And maybe to steal a van, Ralph thought.
It was possible, Merlin Cassidy and the Maitland family certainly could have been in Dayton at the same time, but it seemed farfetched. Even if that had happened, there was the question of how Terry had gotten the van back to Flint City. Or why he would have bothered. There were plenty of vehicles to be stolen in the FC metro area; Barbara Nearing’s Subaru was a case in point.
“Probably ate out a few times, didn’t you?” Ralph asked.
Howie sat forward at that, but said nothing for the moment.
“We had a fair amount of room service, Sarah and Grace loved it, but sure, we ate out. Assuming the hotel restaurant counts as out.”
“Did you happen to eat at a place called Tommy and Tuppence?”
“No. I’d remember a restaurant with a name like that. We ate at IHOP one night, and I think twice at Cracker Barrel. Why?”
“No reason,” Ralph said.
Howie gave him a smile that said he knew better, but settled back. Alec sat with his arms crossed over his chest, his face expressionless.
“Is that everything?” Marcy asked. “Because I’m tired of this. And I’m tired of you.”
“Did anything out of the ordinary happen while you were in Dayton? Anything at all? One of your daughters getting lost for a little while, Terry saying he’d met an old friend, you meeting an old friend, maybe a package delivery—”
“A flying saucer?” Howie asked. “How about a man in a trenchcoat with a message in code? Or the Rockettes dancing in the parking lot?”
“Not helpful, counselor. Believe it or not, I’m trying to be part of the solution here.”
“There was nothing.” Marcy got up and began collecting coffee cups. “Terry visited his father, we had a nice vacation, we flew home. We didn’t eat at Tommy and whatever it was, and we didn’t steal a van. Now I’d like you to—”
“Daddy got a cut.”
They all turned to the door. Sarah Maitland was standing there, looking pale and wan and much too thin in her jeans and Rangers tee-shirt.
“Sarah, what are you doing down here?” Marcy put the cups on the counter and went to the girl. “I told you and your sister to stay upstairs until we were done talking.”
“Grace is already asleep,” Sarah said. “She was awake last night with more stupid nightmares about the man with straws for eyes. I hope she doesn’t have any tonight. If she wakes up, you should give her a shot of Benadryl.”
“I’m sure she’ll sleep through. Go on, now.”
But Sarah stood her ground. She was looking at Ralph, not with her mother’s dislike and distrust, but with a kind of concentrated curiosity that made Ralph uncomfortable. He held her gaze, but it was difficult.
“My mother says you got my dad killed,” Sarah said. “Is that true?”
“No.” Then the apology came at last, and to his surprise, it was almost effortless. “But I played a part, and for that I’m deeply sorry. I made a mistake I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life.”
“Probably that’s good,” Sarah said. “Probably you deserve to.” And to her mother: “I’ll go upstairs now, but if Grace starts yelling in the middle of the night, I’m going to sleep in her room.”
“Before you go, Sarah, can you tell me about the cut?” Ralph asked.
“It happened when he visited his father,” Sarah said. “A nurse fixed it up right after it happened. She put on that Betadine stuff and a Band-Aid. It was okay. He said it didn’t hurt.”
“Upstairs, you,” Marcy said.
“Okay.” They watched her pad to the stairs in her bare feet. When she got there, she turned back. “That Tommy and Tuppence restaurant was right up the street from our hotel. When we went to the art museum in the rent-a-dent, I saw the sign.”
19
“Tell me about the cut,” Ralph said.
Marcy put her hands on her hips. “Why? So you can make it into some kind of big deal? Because it wasn’t.”
“He’s asking because it’s the only thing he’s got,” Alec said. “But I’m interested, too.”
“If you’re too tired—” Howie began.
“No, that’s all right. It wasn’t a big deal, just a scrape, really. Was that the second time he visited his father?” She lowered her head, frowning. “No, it was the last time, because we flew home the next morning. When Terry left his father’s room, he smacked into an orderly. He said neither of them was looking where he was going. It would have been no more than bump and excuse me, but a janitor had just finished mopping the floor, and it was still wet. The orderly slipped and grabbed Terry’s arm, but went down anyway. Terry helped him up, asked if he was all right, and the guy said he was. Ter was halfway down the hall before he saw his wrist was bleeding. One of the orderly’s nails must have gotten him when he grabbed Terry, trying to stay on his feet. A nurse disinfected it and put on a Band-Aid, like Sarah said. And that’s the whole story. Does it solve the case for you?”
“No,” Ralph said. But it wasn’t like the yellow bra strap. This was a connection—a confluence, to use Jeannie’s word—he thought he could nail down, but he would need Yune Sablo’s help. He stood up. “Thanks for your time, Marcy.”
She favored him with a cold smile. “That’s Mrs. Maitland to you.”
“Understood. And Howard, thanks for setting this up.” He extended his hand to the lawyer. For a moment it just hung there, but in the end, Howie shook it.
“I’ll walk you out,” Alec said.
“I think I can find my way.”
“I’m sure you can, but since I walked you in, it makes a nice balance.”
They crossed the living room and went down the short hall. Alec opened the door. Ralph stepped out, and was surprised when Alec stepped out after him.
“What was it about the cut?”
Ralph eyed him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you do. Your face changed.”
“A little acid indigestion. I’m prone to it, and that was a tough meeting. Although not as tough as the way the girl looked at me. I felt like a bug on a slide.”
Alec closed the door behind them. Ralph was two steps down, but because of his height, the two men were still almost eye to eye. “Going to tell you something,” Alec said.
“All right.” Ralph braced himself.
“That arrest was fucked. Fucked to the sky. I’m sure you know that now.”
“I don’t think I need another scolding tonight.” Ralph started to turn away.
“I’m not done.”
Ralph turned back, head lowered, feet slightly spread. It was a fighter’s stance.
“I don’t have any kids. Marie couldn’t. But if I’d had a son your boy’s age, and if I had solid proof that a homicidal sexual deviant had been important to him, someone he looked up to, I might have done the same thing, or worse. What I’m saying is that I understand why you lost perspective.”
“All right,” Ralph said. “It doesn’t make things better, but thanks.”