“Ray Wallace thought you were guilty. So did your father.”
“They didn’t know about Finn.”
“If you were innocent, why did you let the police hide and destroy evidence for you?”
“Because plenty of innocent men have gone to jail,” Peter snapped. “I’m getting tired of this, Tish. People like you assume that being rich makes you guilty.”
He sounded defensive. Nervous. As if she had struck a chord.
“Pat Burns may be done with you, but I’m not,” Tish said. “I was planning to leave town, Peter, but now I’m not so sure. Maybe Finn only thinks he killed Laura, because he saw who did. Maybe he saw you.”
Maggie was almost asleep when she heard what sounded like the angry chatter of an insect somewhere in her bedroom. Her eyes sprang open. Disoriented, she fumbled for the lamp on her nightstand and blinked at the bright light. The buzzing sounded like a june bug, one of those brown summer beetles that flies blindly into screen doors and then drops like a rock and beats its wings in agitation. She realized, however, that the muffled noise was too melodic. When it continued into a third chorus, she remembered that she had switched her cell phone to vibrate mode during the press conference and then left her phone in the pocket of her black slacks draped over a chair.
The phone was ringing.
She glanced at the clock and saw that it was midnight. She climbed out of bed and retrieved the phone. The bedroom curtains billowed like sails in the lake breeze.
“Maggie Bei.”
“Ms. Bei, I’m sorry to be calling you so late. This is Donna Biggs.”
Maggie wandered to the window with the phone in her hand. Outside, the night clouds were black. She smelled a storm. “What can I do for you, Donna? Is something wrong?”
She heard hesitation in the woman’s voice. “I don’t know. I think so.”
“What is it?”
“Clark and I were together at a bar in Gary this evening. We saw the press conference that Ms. Burns held.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Maggie said. “I tried to reach both of you to tell you what you were going to hear, but I couldn’t connect with you in time.”
“I understand.”
“I hope you realize that I’m still chasing the peeping incidents aggressively. I’m not giving up on this case. I only wish I could be more encouraging about charges related to Mary’s death.”
“It’s not your fault,” Donna replied. “I’m just afraid that Clark is very upset. I could see it in his eyes tonight. He’s devastated.”
“I know this has been terrible for both of you,” Maggie said.
“Clark disappeared from the bar, Ms. Bei. He left, and he didn’t tell me where he was going. He was drinking heavily. I went to his house to find him, and I’ve been here for several hours now. I was hoping he’d come home, but he hasn’t. I’ve tried his cell phone, but he must have it turned off.”
“Did he say anything to you?” Maggie asked.
“Nothing. I went to the restroom, and when I came back, he was gone.”
“Have you called 911?”
“No, I wanted to talk to you first. I’m not sure what I should do.”
“I’ll put out an alert for Clark and his truck,” Maggie told her. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”
“I’m afraid of what he might do,” Donna added.
Maggie thought about Clark’s face when she had come upon him in the woods where Mary died. “Does Clark own a gun?” she asked softly.
“He owns hunting rifles, but they’re all still here at the house. I checked. He doesn’t own a handgun.”
“That’s good news,” Maggie told her. She waited a beat and then added, “I know that Clark has been depressed, but has he talked at all about harming himself? Are you afraid he might commit suicide?”
“No, that’s not it,” Donna said. “I’m not worried about Clark killing himself. I’m worried that he might kill someone else.”
“Someone else? Like who?”
“They talked about that man on the news tonight. The one you’ve been investigating. Clark knows his name now. He knows where he lives.”
“You mean Finn Mathisen?”
“Yes. I think Clark might try to do what you can’t. Get justice for Mary.”
Maggie swore under her breath. “I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“Ms. Bei, you have to find him. You can’t let Clark do this.”
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t. I don’t care about this other man. He deserves whatever happens to him. But I don’t want Clark throwing away his life. He can’t. Not now.”
Maggie heard the pleading in Donna’s voice. “What are you saying?”
“Clark doesn’t know,” Donna told her. “He doesn’t know I’m pregnant.”
40
Midnight in the rural neighborhoods of Superior was quiet. The media trucks that had surrounded Finn’s house for the ten o’clock news were gone. The house was dark and silent. Even so, Clark knew that Finn was hiding there, sitting in some room with the lights off. The silver RAV sat like a ghost truck in the driveway. He hoped that the man who had killed his daughter couldn’t sleep.
He thought about breaking in. Kick down the door or smash a window. He told himself that all he wanted to do was confront Finn and look for the guilt in his face, and tell him that he had robbed two lives when he set his sights on Mary. But that was a lie. Clark had darker things in his heart.
He squirmed in his seat because he needed to piss. He opened the door of his pickup and climbed down to the dirt. Overhead, there were no stars, only angry clouds growing blacker and more threatening as he stared at them. Wind drummed on his back. He stood between the steel rails of the tracks and unzipped and drained a clear stream of urine into the crushed rock. When he was done, he went back to the truck and reached across the seat to grab the baseball bat he had stolen. It was heavy and satisfying in his hand, like an instrument of justice.
Before he could close the truck door, he heard a voice over the howl of the wind, whispering in his ear.
“No, Daddy.”
Clark spun around. “Mary?”
He looked for her spirit in the darkness, but he was alone. His mind was playing games with him. Even so, the memory of his daughter’s voice, which was as clear and familiar as if she had been standing next to him, softened the fury in his heart. Clark stood for a long moment, hesitating. The storm was close and violent. The brittle air felt as if it would snap.