Chapter Forty-three
“Jake!” It was Detective Zwerling, standing alone. He was in his dark suit with no overcoat. “What’s your hurry? Trying to beat the traffic?”
Jake slowed his pace, busted. “No, I have to make a phone call.”
“Good, I’ll walk you out.” Detective Zwerling hustled toward him, sliding his leather shoes on the tiled floor, then he fell into step, and they walked to the doors together. “So what brings you here?”
“You know, the memorial service.” Jake told himself to remain calm. The service must have ended, because the crowd filed out of the auditorium doors and surged into the entrance hall, wiping tears, checking phones, and zipping coats.
“Did Ryan know Kathleen Lindstrom?”
“Pardon?” Jake asked, blindsided. He didn’t remember mentioning Ryan’s name to Detective Zwerling. “Uh, no, he didn’t. He came with the basketball team.”
“You came alone, with your son?”
“No, my wife came, too,” Jake answered, hating to bring up Pam. He didn’t know if Detective Zwerling was making conversation or interrogating him, but it felt like the latter. They reached the doors, left the school, and stepped into the cold night air. Jake glanced toward the parking lot, but the BMW was too far away to see in the dark. The crowd flowed noisily around them, and he looked for Slater, but didn’t see him. It would take longer for Slater to get out, since he’d been on the stage. At the fringe of the crowd, the TV klieglights flicked on and cast a pool of light onto the pretty reporter, who raised her microphone and started saying something that Jake couldn’t hear.
“I’d like to meet your wife.” Detective Zwerling half-smiled, his slack jowls draping the corners of his mouth like fleshy curtains. Close-up, his skin looked slightly greasy and he had a five o’clock shadow. “I understand she’s a judge. Where is she?”
“She’s still inside, undoubtedly talking. I wouldn’t wait if I were you.” Jake hadn’t mentioned that Pam was a judge, so they had been investigating him. He prayed it would take her a while to get out of the auditorium, so Detective Zwerling couldn’t see she was a brunette, much less the brunette. Then he wondered if Detective Zwerling knew that already.
“It’s nice you both came.”
“We wanted to show our respect for the family.”
“How do you know them?”
“We don’t. We came because of the school, the community. To show respect, generally.” Jake tried not to sound nervous, but he kept saying the wrong things. The crowd filled the sidewalk, crossed the road to the parking lots, and scattered to their cars. He sneaked a glance at the lot for the BMW and at the crowd for Slater, but no luck. The TV reporter collared a passing mom for an interview, positioning her in the klieglights that filled the area under the canopy with artificial light.
“Sad case, isn’t it?” Detective Zwerling reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a pack of Merits, with a blue Bic lighter stuck in the cellophane. “I hate to see those girls crying. They’re just kids.”
“Yes, it’s very sad.” Jake slid his phone from his pocket. “Excuse me, I’d better make that call—”
“You can’t take a minute to talk? I’m starting to think you don’t like me.” Detective Zwerling made a mock-wounded face as he shook out a cigarette and palmed the lighter. “You like my partner better, don’t you?”
“No, not at all.” Jake forced a smile.
“Come on. Now I know you’re a liar. Everybody likes Woohoo better.” Detective Zwerling laughed abruptly, then plugged his mouth with the cigarette, which flopped around while he spoke. “Hell, so do I.”
Jake forced another smile, tense. He scanned the crowd for Slater, who would be easy to spot, tall and blond. The BMW seemed to be in the same parking space, a dark line in the far section of the lot.
“I can’t figure it, can you? What kind of person hits a young girl and doesn’t even stop?”
“I have no idea.” Jake felt guilt-stricken, but told himself not to let emotions get the better of him. The night echoed with the hoarse noise of engines starting, and white and red taillights flashed as cars left spaces in all sections of the lot.
“At first I thought the driver was a drunk.” Detective Zwerling lit his cigarette and blew out a cone of acrid smoke. “Usually is.”
“I bet.” Jake had to shake Detective Zwerling but didn’t know how.
“They turn themselves in after they sober up. First thing Monday morning, we get a call. They’re lawyered up by then.”
“Really.” Jake glanced again at the section of the parking lot with the BMW, but still couldn’t see it. Cars were leaving the lot where the BMW was parked, but he thought it was still there, in its dark line. Slater wasn’t among the crowd, which kept spilling out of the school, so Jake still had a chance.
“We can’t prove anything that late and they know it. Standard operating procedure for degenerates.”
“That’s terrible.”
“But we didn’t get any call yesterday morning. Still haven’t. I checked. Lindstrom’s not my case, but we’re a small department.” Detective Zwerling’s hooded eyes watched Jake through the cigarette smoke. “Concord Chase is a small community. I didn’t realize how small until today. After we saw you, we went to Mr. Voloshin’s place of employment. He worked at a company called GreenTech. Did he mention that to you?”
“No.” Jake felt a bolt of panic, but tried not to betray himself. More engines started, and headlights sliced through the darkness as cars swung onto the road leading to the exit.
“It turns out that Kathleen Lindstrom worked at GreenTech, too. Part-time. Her mother got her the job. She’s the web designer there. Are you sure Voloshin didn’t mention it to you?”
“No, not at all.” Jake swallowed hard. The crowd kept flowing to the parking lots, and the TV reporter moved closer and collared another parent to interview. The klieglights followed her, casting a bright halo that Jake couldn’t see around. If Slater left the building and walked behind the lights, Jake could miss him.
“What’s up, Jake? You looking for someone?”
“My wife and son, when they come out.”
“Oh. As I was saying, the employees at GreenTech were all upset. It’s like a one-two punch, if you think about it. Last week they lost Kathleen in the hit-and-run. Last night they lost Voloshin in the murder.” Detective Zwerling spoke casually, as if he were thinking aloud. Cigarette smoke leaked from between his thin lips. “Quite a coincidence, don’t you think? It’s a small company, and they lost two employees in a matter of days. What’re the odds, eh?”
“God knows.” Jake masked his panic. If Detective Zwerling was making a connection between Kathleen’s death and Voloshin’s murder, he could have been here scanning the crowd for Voloshin’s killer. And the trail could lead to Slater, or to Pam. Maybe even to Ryan.
“Kathleen’s mother is very upset about Voloshin’s murder.” Detective Zwerling took another drag of his Merit. “She considered him a friend of the family. He took a real interest in Kathleen. Taught her coding, Flash, animated gifs. Whatever that is. I’m no techie expert.”
“Me, neither.” Jake couldn’t see the crowd beyond the TV klieglights. Cars were leaving the lot where the BMW was parked, and he couldn’t tell if the BMW was still there. He felt his chances slipping away and he couldn’t let that happen.
“I’m a detective twenty-two years. That’s my expertise and—”
“Excuse me.” Jake brandished his phone like a weapon. “I really have to make that call.”
“Right.” Detective Zwerling cocked his head, blowing smoke out to the side. “Why don’t we reconvene tomorrow morning? You free at nine? I’ll come by the office with Woohoo.”
“No, I’m busy.”
“When are you free? I’ll work around.”
“I’m not sure.” Jake knew he needed a lawyer. He’d call Hubbard ASAP. “Tomorrow’s not good for me, but I can give you a call, maybe Thursday.”
“Too late.” Detective Zwerling pursed his lips, his cigarette forgotten. “Jake, I gotta say, I believe you know more than you’re letting on.”
“No, not at all.” Jake felt his mask start to slip. He remembered the photo of the BMW’s license plate he had in his phone. It would be so easy to show it to Detective Zwerling and tell him everything. It was Jake’s last chance to do the right thing. They could catch Voloshin’s killer together, whether it was Slater or not.
“Really?” Detective Zwerling eyed him through the flimsy curtain of smoke. “You sure? You’re jumpy.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jake answered, getting a grip. He couldn’t come clean without exposing Ryan, himself, and Pam. He used to care about justice, but now he cared only about his family. He used to know the difference between right and wrong, but all he knew now was that he loved Pam and Ryan, above all else. And he had to get to the BMW before its driver did.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Fine,” Jake told him, turning away. He walked toward the BMW parking lot and got close enough to see that the BMW was still there, though cars on either side of it were gone. He pressed a button on his phone for show and held it to his ear, as if he were talking. Detective Zwerling would still be watching him, though for all the detective knew, Jake could have been walking toward his own car. Suddenly red taillights went on in the back of the BMW, and the sedan began to pull away.
“No!” Jake heard himself say, holding the phone to his ear. He couldn’t run after the car. He couldn’t do anything that looked suspicious. He must have missed Slater or whoever it was when they passed on the far side of the TV klieglights. Then he realized he could still get a glimpse of the driver, when the BMW turned around and joined the line of traffic to the main exit.
But it didn’t.
Jake gritted his teeth as the BMW drove away, straight across the emptying parking lot toward the exit at the middle school, one of a slew of other drivers who wanted to get out faster.
“Damn it! Damn, damn, damn!” Jake turned around to see Detective Zwerling, standing alone under the canopy among the crowd of families. The TV klieglights reflected off the cigarette smoke that wreathed him, reducing him to a blurry silhouette.
Jake didn’t see Slater in the crowd, but he couldn’t wait any longer. His plan was blown, and he needed damage control. Detective Zwerling would be wondering what he was doing. Pam’s car was parked nearby, and he walked to it casually, while he scrolled to the text function on his phone and texted Pam:
I’m at ur car. Take Ryan out back door. Cops out front. Talk to no one! BE CAREFUL!