“We’re not on to him. There's gotta be some other explanation."
“You’re not onto him," she countered. "But I am. And I think your father was, too.”
“My...” He couldn’t talk for a second. It was as if her words stole his breath. He managed to catch it and tried again. “You think my father believed this? God, Megan, he was a cop. If he thought his own partner was a violent criminal he’d have turned him in, no matter how close they were.”
“Yeah. Exactly. But your dad never got the chance. Skinner was the only one who walked away from that liquor store robbery."
“No. No, no way was Ed involved in my father’s death. They were like brothers.”
“Lily said your father had been acting oddly for a week prior to his death. Don’t you want to know why?”
He stared at her, and something icy cold seemed to solidify over his chest as he finally considered how easy it would have been.
He tried to shake off the chilling feeling. “There could have been a hundred reasons for him to have been acting off-kilter that week.”
“You’re right. There could have been.” She covered his hand with hers. “Lily told me your mother hasn’t changed a thing in your father’s den since he died. That it’s like a shrine to him in there.”
Sam nodded as he drove. “It was always off-limits to the rest of the family, that den. Mom still doesn’t let anyone in there. Guards it like a lioness. She’s the only one who can go inside. Says she feels closer to Dad when she spends time in the den.”
“Has she ever let Skinner inside?”
He shook his head. “Never.”
“Has he ever asked?”
Sam blinked, recalling how determined Ed had been to get into his father’s private den right around the time of the funeral. Hell, it had been a source of added worry to his mother and had infuriated Lily. He slanted a look at Megan. “Actually, he did. Right after Dad’s death. Something about some missing files that pertained to a case they’d been working on.”
“And did your mother let him go in?”
“No. As I remember it, she told him she had gone through the room from top to bottom and had boxed up everything that had to do with work. She gave that box of files to Ed.” He tried to swallow but the memories seemed to be drying out his throat. “It was odd. He asked her if she’d read through them. He seemed almost scared. When she said she had been a policeman’s wife long enough to know better than to snoop through private files, he seemed satisfied, took the box, and as far as I know, he never asked again.”
Megan nodded slowly. “I wonder if Skinner found the evidence your father must've had on him in those files.”
“This is all speculation on your part.”
She held his eyes, and he thought she could see that he was trying to convince himself as much as her. She didn’t even waver. “We need to convince your mother to let us go through that room, Sam. I don’t know how I know it, but I do. If there’s anything to find, your father left it in there for us.”
“She’ll never agree to that,” he said.
Megan lowered her eyes.
Sam drew a breath. Everything in him was telling him to trust her. To believe her. And he was damned if he had it in him to do otherwise. “All right, Meg. If you feel this strongly, we’ll do it.”
She looked up at him, an emotion he couldn’t name shining from her eyes. “You believe me?”
“I trust you like I’ve never trusted anyone. If you say we need to check it out, we need to check it out.” He saw the tears gathering, and then it hit him why she was reacting so strongly to him believing the unbelievable at nothing more than her word. “I’m not your father, Megan.”
She smiled. It was shaky, unsteady, and wet. “No, you’re not even close.”
There was so much more to say, so much to explain. But she didn’t give him the chance. “How are we going to get in if your mother won’t agree to let us?”
He glanced at the clock on the radio dial. “She’ll be out all morning. Volunteers at the Ladies’ Auxiliary till noon. If we’re lucky, Lily is with her. She often goes along.”
He drove her to his mother’s house, the house where he had grown up. And while he was at it, he phoned the hospital and spoke to the guard on Linda Keller’s room, told him not to let anyone, including police officers, even the chief himself, be alone with her and to delay her release from the hospital until further notice.
Then he pulled his car into the familiar driveway. The house was a big old Victorian, and his parents had lived in it for as long as he could remember. It had changed very little over the years.
Meg seemed to have recovered physically during the course of the drive. Still, he held her arm as he led her up the walk to the front door. She might be feeling better, but he wasn’t sure he was after seeing her take a phantom beating and pass out like that, much less hearing the things she had to say afterward.
“Lily’s not home, either,” he said, deducing as much from the fact that the door was locked. “She refuses to live behind locked doors. If she were here, it would have been open.”
Megan nodded, and he led the way into the house. He looked around first, making utterly sure they were alone, before leading the way down a hall to a closed door. Then he paused, hesitated.
“It’s not easy, is it?”
He turned to face Megan, saw her looking into his eyes. “Mom would consider it a betrayal, my bringing you here. Invading Dad’s space.”
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t feel it was vital, Sam.”
He nodded. “I know that. And I wouldn’t bring any other woman in here. Dad ... Dad would be rolling over in his grave if I did. But somehow, I just don’t think he’d mind so much with you.”
“There’s something in there he wants us to find. Maybe even needs us to find.”
Sighing, Sam nodded and turned to face the door again. His hands felt clammy and his heart heavy as he inserted the key into the lock.
Chapter 11
Sam opened the door to his father’s den and was immediately transported backward in time. He was seven years old again, tapping on the door of his father’s inner sanctum, waiting without drawing a breath until that deep, powerful voice, laced with just a hint of laughter, called, “Hmm, if it’s important enough to interrupt my quiet time, it must be pretty important. Come on in, then.” He looked at Megan, saw her watching him, feeling what he felt. “Dad usually stole a half hour a day in his den,” he told her. “It was off-limits to us kids, to everyone except Mom. He didn’t even bring his friends in here.”
She nodded as if she understood. “It’s okay, Sam. Take your time.”
Stepping farther into the room surrounded Sam in the very essence of his father. He could smell old cigar smoke, and expensive leather, and aging books. So much his dad, those smells. “God, no wonder Mom likes to come in here sometimes, just to sit alone.
“It’s bringing back a lot of memories for you, isn’t it?” Megan put a hand on his arm as she asked the question.