“I’ll just remind her you haven’t had a date in years,” Luke said smugly, getting up from the sofa. “She’ll be so busy finding you a nice Greek girl that she won’t have time to worry over me.” He opened the door, then turned back, his expression serious. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Daniel. Even if you’d reported those pictures ten years ago, no one could have done anything without the evidence.”
“Thanks, man. That helps.” It really did.
“So what are you going to do next?”
“Now, I’m gonna walk Riley. Tomorrow, I’ll follow the evidence on the Arcadia homicide like normal. And I’m going to check out Alicia Tremaine, see if any of her family or friends remember anything. Who knows, it might turn up something. Tell Mama Papa thanks for the food.”
Dutton, Sunday, January 28, 11:30 p.m.
“I’m sorry I haven’t come before,” Mack murmured as he sat on the cold ground. The marble at his back was even colder. He wished he could have come here during the daytime when it was warm and sunny, but he couldn’t be seen next to her headstone. He didn’t want anyone to know he was back, because once they knew, they’d know all-and he wasn’t ready for that yet.
But he’d needed to come to her, just once. He’d owed her so much more than he’d given her. It was his greatest regret. He’d failed her in nearly every way. And she’d died, without him by her side. It was his greatest fury.
The last time he’d stood here had been under a blazing summer sun, three and a half years ago. He’d worn shackles and a suit that didn’t fit. They hadn’t let him out to sit at her deathbed, but they had allowed him one afternoon for her funeral.
“One fucking afternoon,” he said quietly. “Too damn late.”
He’d had everything stolen from him-his home, his family’s business, his freedom, and finally his mother-and all he’d been allowed was one fucking afternoon, too damn late to do anything but simmer in his rage and vow his retribution.
Across his mother’s grave his sister-in-law had stood crying, holding one of her little boys by the hand and the other on her hip. His jaw clenched just at the thought of Annette. She’d cared for his mother in her final days while he’d been locked up like an animal, and for that he’d always be beholden. But for years his brother Jared’s wife had harbored a secret that should have been the ruin of those who’d ruined their family. For years Annette had known the truth, but she’d never said a word.
He vividly remembered the explosion of rage when just nine days ago he’d found and read the journals she’d kept so carefully hidden. At first he’d hated her, adding her to his retribution list. But she’d cared for his mother, and one of the lessons he’d learned in his four years behind bars was the value of loyalty and the karma of a good deed done. So he’d spared Annette, allowing her to go on living her miserable little life in that miserable little house.
Besides, she had to take care of his nephews. Their family name, such as it was, would live on through his brother’s sons.
His own name would soon become inextricably linked to murder and revenge.
He would exact his revenge and then disappear. How to disappear was one of the other things he’d learned in prison. Disappearing wasn’t as easy as it once was, but it still could be done, if one had the right loyal contacts, and if one was patient.
Patience was the most important thing he’d learned while inside. If a man bided his time, a solution would become clear. Mack had bided his time for four long years. In that time he’d followed the Dutton news while he’d plotted, schemed, and studied. He’d strengthened his body and his mind. And his rage had continued to simmer and stew.
When he’d walked through the prison’s front gates a free man one month ago, he’d known more about Dutton than any of its residents knew, but he still didn’t know how to best punish those who’d ruined his life. A bullet to their heads was too fast, too merciful. He’d wanted something painful and lasting, so he’d bided his time a little longer, lurking about town like a shadow, watching them, charting their movements, their habits, their secrets.
And then, nine days ago, his patience had paid off. After four years of simmering, his plan had come together in minutes. Now, the curtain had risen. He was on his way.
“There are so many things you never knew, Mama,” he said softly. “So many people you trusted who’d already betrayed you. The pillars of the town are more evil than you ever contemplated. The things they’ve done are far worse than anything I’d ever dreamed of doing.” Until now. “I wish you could see what I’m about to do. I’m about to stir up the dirt in this town, and everyone will know what they did to you and to me and even to Jared. They’ll be ruined and humiliated. And the people they love will die.”
Today they’d found the first one, at the bike race, just as he’d planned. And the lead investigator was none other than Daniel Vartanian himself. Which added a whole new layer of meaning to the game.
He lifted his eyes and peered through the shadows to the Vartanian family plot. The police tape was gone now and they’d filled in the grave that until nine days ago everyone had thought held the remains of Simon Vartanian. Now the Vartanian family plot had two new graves.
“The judge and his wife are dead. The whole town came out for the double funeral on Friday afternoon, just two days ago.” The whole town, as opposed to the sad little group that had gathered at his mother’s graveside. Annette, her boys, the reverend, and me. And the prison guards, of course. Couldn’t forget about them. “But don’t fret. Not many came out of respect for the judge and Mrs. Vartanian. Most of them really came to gawk at Daniel and Susannah.”
Mack, on the other hand, had watched the double service from far enough away so he could watch the whole town. They had no clue what was coming. “Daniel was back to work today.” Which had been his fondest hope. “I thought he’d take more time off.”
He ran his hand over the blanket of grass that covered her. “I guess family means more to some people than others. I couldn’t have gone back to work so fast after your funeral. Of course, I wasn’t given the choice,” he said bitterly.
He lifted his eyes again to the Vartanian plot. “The judge and his wife were killed by Simon. We thought he was dead, all these years. Remember, you made me and Jared come and stand by his grave. I was only ten, but you said we had to show respect for the dead. But Simon wasn’t dead. Nine days ago they dug him up and Simon wasn’t buried in Simon’s tomb. That was the day we heard Simon had killed his parents.”
It had also been the day he’d finally figured out how to exact his revenge. The day he’d found the journals Annette had kept hidden for so long. Nine days ago had been a very good day, all in all.
“Simon really is dead now.” It was too bad that Daniel Vartanian had beaten him to it. “But no worries, the empty grave won’t go to waste. Soon a Vartanian son will be buried in the family plot.” He smiled. “Soon, a lot of people’ll be gettin’ buried in Dutton.”
How fast the cemetery got filled would depend on how smart Daniel Vartanian really was. If Daniel hadn’t yet linked today’s victim to Alicia Tremaine, he soon would. Add an anonymous tip to the Dutton Review and by tomorrow morning everyone in town would know what he’d done. Importantly, the ones he wanted to know, would. They’d wonder. Sweat. Fear.
“Soon they’ll all pay.” He stood and took a last look at the headstone that bore his mother’s name. If all went well, he’d never be able to come back. “I’ll get justice for us both if it’s the last thing I do.”