“And Kathleen?” Pescoli pressed, bringing up the other Johnson daughter who had died.
“She. . she was killed in a skiing accident,” Gerald said, scowling, as if his own words tasted bitter.
“Skiing accident,” Alvarez repeated. “Any of her brothers present the day she died?”
“What?” Noreen blinked and fiddled nervously with her collar. “What are you suggesting, detective?”
Pescoli’s smile held zero warmth. “Let me guess. Was it Cameron?”
“No!” Noreen said, her face shattering as tears came again. “I mean, yes, he was there. But… but so was most of the family!”
“Convenient.” Pescoli was irritated as she glowered at this couple whose entire married life had been shrouded in secrets.
Cameron? One of the twins? He was the one Pescoli was zeroing in on? Alvarez thought of the two men who looked so much alike, whose jobs took them throughout the country. Handsome and smart. But deadly? To his mother she asked, “Do you know exactly what happened the day Kathleen died?”
Noreen glanced at her husband and then worried her lip. “Of course… Cameron was skiing with Kathleen on that last run, but that doesn’t mean. . there were hundreds, probably thousands, of people on the mountain that day.” She sounded as if she were trying desperately to convince herself.
Alvarez was trying to remember everything about Cameron Johnson. He worked for the family business, lived on the outskirts of Grizzly Falls, on the way to Missoula. .
“Poor, poor Kathleen.” Sighing, tears filling her eyes, Noreen added, “She’d finally found a man who loved her despite. .”
“Despite what?” Pescoli asked.
“Nothing.” Noreen shook her head quickly. “Nothing at all.” She beseeched her husband silently but he threw up a hand, his own face a mask of sadness.
“Kathleen battled bipolar disorder,” Gerald admitted sadly, one of his hands actually trembling. “I was a doctor, wouldn’t believe it. At the time we really didn’t know what to call it. We said, ‘She had spells’ or she was ‘manic,’ or ‘depressed.’ I couldn’t really accept that she was suffering so.”
Seriously? Alvarez wondered. The second child who’d died from an accident had mental issues? Was there a connection? Seemed unlikely. Then again, everything about this case was slightly askew.
“Gerald, don’t you see?” Noreen interjected. “They’re. . they’re saying anything they can. Grasping at straws!” Glaring at Pescoli, her nostrils flaring, she added, “They’re insinuating that Cameron killed Kathleen! Can you believe it? Cam!” She was shivering in rage. “And that’s not the end of it, they’re also trying to pin those other accidents, where the women died, on him. As if he were able to. . This is unbelievable!” Noreen started pacing again, growing hysterical. “But it’s not true. It just can’t be!” Spinning on a heel, she pointed at Pescoli. “Get out! Now! Get the hell out of my house. You’re despicable. Both of you!” She was crying in earnest now, her eyes trained on the large window facing the drive.
“This isn’t over. We’re not done,” Pescoli said, rising to her feet.
Alvarez took her cue, checking her cell phone and starting for the door, just as headlights pierced the paned windows, washed against the walls. Over the whistle of the storm, the roar of a powerful engine surged through the night.
Noreen’s shimmering eyes widened. The faintest of sad smiles tugged at the corners of her lips. “Oh, thank God!” she said, dropping a relieved hand over her heart. “Judd’s here!”
Judd?
The oldest son?
Why?
As Gerald got to his feet and tried to stop his wife, Noreen raced into the hallway, her heels clicking on the marble floor as she flung open the door. A tall man, broad in the shoulders, his expression grim, entered. The family resemblance was unmistakable, Judd’s bearing and facial features almost identical to his father’s. He gave his mother a quick, almost obligatory hug as he surveyed the group in the den.
“What’s going on here?” he demanded, his voice low, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as snow melted on the shoulders of his black overcoat. With his mother still clinging to his arm, he strode into the den.
“It’s the police,” she said as if he were the damned cavalry, sent to rescue her. “They’ve come here asking all kinds of questions about those women who died. .” Noreen was talking fast. “The newest accident victim is… is Karalee. . Rierson. From the clinic. Oh. . oh. . no. .” she was shaking her head as she connected the dots. “I, uh, oh God, I tried to set her up on a date with your brother. .” Stricken by her thoughts, she looked as if she might buckle. Licking her lips, one hand at her throat, she whispered, “But it… it can’t be. .”
“Mother,” Judd warned. “Stop talking.” To the police: “I’m an attorney. I don’t want you to speak to my parents without counsel present and it can’t be me. I assume this is something criminal, or you wouldn’t be here. I’ll get in touch with Herman Carlton, a friend of mine and I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”
Herman Carlton hailed from Spokane, but practiced in Montana as well. Of course they’d heard of him. In Alvarez’s opinion, Carlton was a prick of a defense attorney and a miserable human being. But he would be trouble in a court battle, big trouble.
“Hold on,” Gerald said. “No one’s accusing anyone of anything.”
Pescoli interrupted and said to Noreen. “The son that you set up with Karalee Rierson? Which one is he?”
“Mother, don’t!” Judd was adamant and Noreen snapped her mouth shut.
“It was Cameron,” Gerald said gently, his gaze on his wife’s stricken face.
And all the pieces of the puzzle started locking into place.
When Judd tried to say something, Gerald held up his hand, as if to stop the barrage of denials. In a softer voice he said to the detectives, “I overheard my wife talking on the phone with Clarissa about a potential date.” As Noreen bristled, her spine stiffening, he added, “It’s over, honey. We can’t bury our heads in the sand any longer.”
“You’re a bastard, Gerald,” she shot back. “You know that, don’t you? A number-one bastard! And I never called him.” Noreen shook her head. “Cam didn’t know that I’d spoken to Karalee.”
“Of course he did, because Clarissa would have told him. They’re tight,” Gerald said. “And if she told him, I’m willing to bet the whole damned family knew!” He stared at Judd. “You?”
Judd’s jaw slid to one side; he didn’t answer. It was admission enough, at least in Alvarez’s mind.
“Come on, son,” his father implored.
“Judd?” Noreen pleaded.
With a shrug, the attorney reluctantly said, “Okay, I’d heard.” His lips twisted into a deep line of disdain. “Clarissa doesn’t know how to keep a secret. Never has.”
Noreen, broken, let out a little gasp.
Gerald’s sigh was deep with despair. As the fire crackled and the snow continued to fall outside the window, where the gaslights glowed, he said to Judd, “You can’t protect him anymore.”
“Where is he?” Pescoli demanded.
“I don’t know.” Gerald shook his head. “He keeps to himself.”
Pescoli ordered. “Call him!”
“I tried on the way over here,” Judd admitted. “He’s not answering.”
“Try him again!” She wouldn’t budge, but Alvarez knew they would get nowhere further. They’d learned more than they’d expected and now they had to act. Fast. To prevent Cameron Johnson from killing again. She said to Pescoli as she pulled out her phone, “We don’t have time for this.”