Innocent (17 page)

I AWOKE WITH
a start, for an instant not knowing where I was, and then it all came back. Anxiously I looked around. I saw nothing except flower beds and the house. My back was still against the wall. I was damp, almost wet, as the dew had settled onto me as I slept. I couldn’t believe I’d been able to sleep, but I had—fitfully, fighting against sleep repeatedly until it had finally captured me.

I flexed my arms and drew my legs up, not to fight the chill but to get blood flowing again, so I could move. I had to move. I turned around, pushed myself up slightly and peeked over the top of the wall. It was still dark, but there was a hint of sun to the east. It wasn’t morning yet, but it wasn’t night anymore either. The sun was getting ready to push above the horizon and announce the day.

The street was deserted. No people and no moving cars, not even any parked at the side of the street. I was alone in the middle of a sleeping city. The darkness was being quickly swallowed up, and I still wanted someplace to hide. Part of me wanted to stay right there, hidden behind the wall forever. That wasn’t an option.

Tentatively I got to my feet. My right leg felt sore—the place where the car had brushed against me. If it had been a foot farther over, it wouldn’t have been a bruising but a break, maybe worse. What would have happened if I’d still been on that road when he came back, either unconscious or unable to get out of the way?

With each step I felt a little sting go up my leg. I was positive it couldn’t be broken, but it wasn’t right either. Looking down, I could see where my pants had been torn, and there was a dark stain around the tear—blood. If only David was here with his first-aid kit. Wait. David only lived a few blocks from here. I’d never been to his house, but I knew the block and I could look for his car parked in the drive. That would work. Assuming he was home.

Coming up to the first intersection, I hesitated and looked long and hard in both directions. Nothing. Still, I moved across as quickly as possible, practically dragging my hurt leg behind me as I jumped up onto the sidewalk.

Off to the side, one of the houses had its lights on, a soft glow coming out of the windows. Somebody was up. That made me feel better. I wasn’t completely alone. If I had to, I could run to that house, pound on the door, scream for help.

As quickly as I could, I made my way, crossing two more streets before I turned and headed down David’s street. I walked along the first block, checking out cars and driveways, but didn’t see anything. Some of the places had a long lane running down the side, with a garage at the back. What if his house had a garage and he’d put his car in there for the night?

I moved into the next block, and up ahead I saw a car that could be his. It was the same model and about the same color as David’s car, but I couldn’t be certain. Should I just wait to see if he’d come out or risk knocking on the door of a stranger? I had to chance it. I summoned my strength, straightened my coat and ran my fingers through my hair to try to flatten it. How silly, wanting to look my best after all that I’d gone through!

I reached out to knock and the door popped open. I jumped backward in shock.

“Lizzy, what are you doing here?” David exclaimed.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

“What happened? Are you all right?”

My whole body shuddered and then seemed to shake the words out. In one long sentence I blurted out the whole story—from the offer of school to the visit from Edward and finally to the car almost running me over. The whole thing sounded so wild and fantastic that I hardly believed what I was saying. If he hadn’t thought I was crackers before, what would he think now?

He slipped an arm around my waist and ushered me into the house, practically placing me onto a chair.

“I can see your leg is cut—again—but I want to make sure nothing else more serious is wrong,” David said. “Being hit by a car is a serious thing.”

He took my left arm and ran his hands up and down, touching, poking, moving my arm in and out and twisting it slightly. “Does any of this hurt?”

“Nothing. No.”

“Part of being a cop is you get a little first-aid training,” he said.

He did the same with my right arm, and again it all seemed fine except for a little tenderness at the elbow. Next he went to my left leg, starting at the foot and moving up until he was working my knee in and out. I had a little soreness in the knee but only a little. Finally he started to work on the right leg, and I jumped in pain.

“Wait here, and don’t move.”

He disappeared into what looked like the kitchen. I heard him rummaging around, cutlery clattering loudly. He came back holding a large pair of scissors in his hand.

“What are those for?” I asked.

“I’m going to cut off your pant leg to get a better look at what happened.”

“You can’t do that—it will ruin them!”

“I’m afraid that ship has already sailed. I don’t think you can pull them up far enough for me to see where you’re hurt, and I assume you wouldn’t want to take them off in front of me, so this is our only option.”

“I’ll try to pull up my pant leg.” Slowly I inched it up, carefully working it over the sore spot until it was revealed.

“That doesn’t look so bad,” David said. “Basically you just reopened what you’d scraped before. I’ll clean it up again and put on some disinfectant. You were lucky you weren’t killed.”

“Do you think he was trying to do that?”

“It could have just been an accident.”

“But you think it could have been more, right?” I asked.

“Have you ever poked a hornet’s nest with a stick?”

“Of course not.”

“Me neither. At least, not before this. I was called into the station a couple of hours after I dropped you off. I didn’t know what it was about, but I found out pretty fast. My sergeant, the chief of detectives and the police chief were all there, waiting for me. They asked me what I thought I was doing, investigating a murder case that had been closed more than a decade ago.”

“And what did you tell them?”

“I really didn’t have to tell them anything, because they already seemed to know everything. They repeated almost word for word some of the comments made in that visit with your father.”

“Mrs. Remington knew all about it too,” I said. “She said the guard who was in the room is the son of a family they helped.”

“That’s not surprising. Everybody knows everybody in this town.”

“So do you think Mrs. Remington told them?”

“Or told her son, who told them. I found out that the police chief was appointed directly by the mayor, despite the fact that he wasn’t the most senior or experienced person available. People say he
owes
the mayor.”

That was one more example of the power of the Remington family.

“The chief told me that my actions made it look like I doubted and questioned the integrity of the officers who did the investigation and put the whole department in a negative light,” David said.

“So that’s the end of it,” I said.

“I thought maybe it would be, but that was before somebody tried to run down my girlfriend. What I didn’t tell them, what you don’t even know yet, is that I’ve been investigating. I found two of the three witnesses who testified at the trial.”

“How did you find them so quickly?”

“It wasn’t hard. One was still living at the same address, with his parents, and the other was actually sitting in the same bar as on the night of the murder.”

“And what did they say? What did they tell you?”

“The one from the bar probably hasn’t stopped drinking since then. What he had to say was mostly the ranting of a drunk. I wouldn’t trust him to remember last night accurately, let alone a dozen years ago.”

“And the other?”

“He’s a horse of a different color. About a decade ago he found both God and sobriety, and he’s willing to swear on a stack of Bibles that your father was with him that entire time.”

“And do you believe him?”

“Just because he’s sober now doesn’t mean he wasn’t drunk then, but still…”

“But if he is telling the truth, if he does remember right, then my father didn’t do it, and somebody else did, like the man driving that car or the man who called in to tell the police where to find the hammer.”

“You could be right,” David said. “There’s one other thing that I read in the file. The anonymous phone call was from a woman.”

I was stunned. I had assumed it was a man, just as I had assumed it was a man driving the car that hit me. Could it have been a woman who killed my mother and who tried to kill me last night?

“In some ways that makes more sense,” David said. “A weapon would more likely be used by a woman.”

“But—but—why would a woman do that to my mother?”

“The most likely motive is some sort of love triangle. I asked the witness about other women in your father’s life, and apparently he wasn’t the most solitary figure.”

“What does that mean?”

“There were other women in his life before he met your mother. He gave me a couple of names, and I’m going to try to track them down. It gets a little more complicated when women get married and change their names, but I’ll dig into it.”

“And after that?”

“Either I find them or I don’t. Either way I think it might be time to talk to a lawyer about what could come next.”

“What would a lawyer do?” I asked.

“He might be able to put an application before the courts to show why a hearing should be held to present new evidence,” David explained.

“That could happen?”

“Anything can happen if you have the funds. We’re going to need a good lawyer, and the good ones don’t come cheap.”

“I have over three hundred dollars in my savings account.”

“That’s a good start. I can add another two hundred.”

“I can’t take your money,” I said.

“If I really needed money, would you give it to me?”

“Of course.”

“Then let me do this. I’ve got the name of a lawyer in town; he’s known as a bit of a maverick. He doesn’t like the chief of police and has a reputation for fighting for causes he believes in. I think we can get him to believe in this one. We’ll go and talk to him.”

“Maybe I should go alone. What would happen if the chief found out you were behind this?”

“I don’t think it’s a question of
if
, but
when
. No secrets in this town.”

“So what will happen?”

“They didn’t exactly order me not to investigate, so probably they’ll just rip a bigger strip off my back, give me punishment duty, or, if worse comes to worst, they might fire me.”

“Fire you! I can’t let you risk that. You love your job!”

“I do love my job, but not as much as I care for you,” he said.

I felt a surge of electricity flow through my entire body. He took my hands in his.

“I’m going to keep that promise I made to your father. I’m going to take care of you. I’m not going to let anybody harm you, not ever.”

I searched my mind for a reply, but none came. I threw my arms around him and squeezed him as hard as I could.

DAVID STOPPED THE
car near the back gate to
the estate. It was still early, and I hoped I could sneak in the back door without
anybody noticing.

“You need to be safe,” David said. “I don’t want you to go anywhere. Stay on the
grounds of the estate until I’ve sorted more of this out.”

I nodded in agreement. We’d also agreed I wouldn’t tell anybody about the car. We had
information that only three people knew: him, me and the driver of the car that hit
me.

David turned off the engine. “I’m going to walk you to the gate and watch you get
into the house.”

“That’s not necessary. I’ll be all right from here.”

“I’m not doing it for you, I’m doing it for me. I have to know that you’re safe.”

We both climbed out. He circled around and took my hand as we walked.

“You know, it might be better if you leave for Toronto sooner rather than later,” he
said.

On the ride back, I’d told him all about Mrs. Remington’s offer, and he was happy for
me, even if it meant I had to leave Kingston.

“I’m not even completely sure I should go.”

“You’re going to go. It’s not that far. I can drive down every week to see you.”

We stopped at the gate, embraced and kissed. I wanted that moment to go on forever.

“Be safe,” he said as he released me. “I’ll be back later tonight, hopefully with
some news.”

He opened the gate for me, and I started toward the mansion. He remained where he
was, watching. Maybe it wasn’t necessary, but it certainly felt good.

I looked up at the house. The windows were dark, the curtains drawn. There was no
question that Mrs. Remington was still asleep, and the whole household generally
didn’t start work until just before she rose.

I hesitated at the back door, turned, waved to David, and he waved back. Opening the
door, I stepped into the kitchen. All was quiet and the lights were still off. I’d
go to my room, get freshened up and change, and nobody would know that I hadn’t been
here last night.

I caught a glimpse of movement and turned. There was a figure in the darkness in the
corner. He stepped forward. Edward!

“Edward, what are—”

He put a finger to his lips to silence me as he walked toward me. “We need to talk,”
he whispered. “About last night.”

“It’s all right, I understand—”

“Not here. Come.”

He started to walk away. I hesitated. I didn’t want to go with him. I didn’t want to
talk to him about what he had done last night. It wasn’t important. I had far bigger
concerns. He turned around, looking concerned that I wasn’t right behind him, and
gestured for me to follow. I had no choice now.

He opened the doorway that led to the servants’ stairs. That surprised me. I’d never
seen any of the Remingtons on those stairs. I followed him up a flight and then we
continued on up to the next floor. Rather than going out into the hall, he reached
for a panel that opened to reveal another set of stairs.

“You probably didn’t know about this set, did you?” he asked.

“No, I didn’t.”

“My brother and I explored all the secret passages as children. This house is full of
surprises.”

I felt surprised and, more than that, concerned. Where was he leading me?

We continued up; it looked as if the stairs dead-ended at the top. Then there was a
sound as a panel slid open to reveal a set of curtains. He pushed them aside, and we
entered a room where I’d never been.

Everything was still and dark. Little bits of light were starting to force their way
in through the drawn shades. The furnishings were covered with sheets, and there was
a thick, stale feel to the air. I could almost taste the dust.

“Thanks for coming up here to talk,” Edward said. He gave me a big smile that made me
feel a bit more comfortable. “I wanted to talk without waking anybody else up. I
felt it was necessary for us to have a private conversation.”

He gestured for me to sit down. I took a seat on a couch covered by a sheet, and he
pulled up a chair and sat down right in front of me. I was sure I knew what he
wanted to talk about. I wanted to get the conversation started so I could get it
over with.

“I’m not going to talk to anybody about what happened,” I said. “You don’t need to
apologize to me again.”

“Me apologize to you?” he questioned. “I think you owe me an apology.”

“Me? Why?”

“For keeping me waiting all night. Is it your habit to be out all night?”

“No, of course not!”

“Were you with him?” he asked.

“Him…my father?”

“Of course not!” he snapped. “That
man
you’re seeing.”

“David drove me home this morning.”

“Did he take advantage of you?” he demanded.

“No, of course not!”

“You look disheveled—your clothing, your hair.”

“Something happened,” I explained.

“I’m sure
many
things happened, but that’s not why I need to talk to you. I
need you to be honest with me. Can you be honest?”

I nodded.

“Honesty is important. Your father—do you, in your heart, believe that he is
innocent?”

I didn’t answer.

“Well? Do you or don’t you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think my brother did it?” he demanded.

“No, I don’t.”

“Good, because I
know
he didn’t do it. But still you think somebody else
murdered your mother, and that your father is innocent. Why would you believe that?”
he asked.

“There were witnesses who said he wasn’t there.”

“Discredited witnesses who lied for him!”

“David doesn’t think they lied.”

“And do you believe that?” he asked.

“I’m not sure, and I need to be sure. We need to find out.”

“Do you have a plan?” Edward asked.

“We’re thinking that maybe we should get a lawyer for him.”

“To bring it back before the courts? To appeal the conviction?”

I nodded.

He got to his feet and walked over to the window, parting the curtains slightly,
allowing more light to stream in. He turned back around.

“In this light I could almost believe your mother is sitting there instead of you.
She often came up here with me. You wouldn’t know that, of course.
Nobody
knew that. You and your mother are so similar in so many ways, right down to
your poor judgment when it comes to men.”

“What do you mean?”

He let out a big sigh. “I loved your mother.”

“Everybody did.”

“Not that way,” he snapped. “I loved her. I genuinely loved her. If only she’d
listened, none of this would have happened. I was willing to be with her, support
her, raise you as my own daughter. Possibly even someday take her as my wife.”

I gasped.

He shook his head. “It all would have been so different. You would have been raised
as the stepdaughter of Edward Remington. Your mother would have been cared for, her
every need provided for, your every need provided for.”

My mind raced, thinking about all that could have been, and all that was instead.

“But she wouldn’t listen. It is so sad that it all has come down to this.”

What did he mean?

He pulled a pistol out of his coat.

“What are you doing?”

“You couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?” he asked. “You had to stir up
trouble. Get up!” he yelled.

Before I could answer, he had grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet.

“Now I’m going to have to take care of you,” he hissed. “The way I took care of your
mother.”

“You’re the one who…?”

He nodded his head. “Really, she did it to herself. If she’d listened to me, it all
could have been different.”

“But why? Why did you do it?”

“She rejected me, told me to leave…and then…” He shook his head. “It was all a blur,
so fast, as if it wasn’t happening, and she started to scream. I had to stop her. I
had the hammer with me, just in case
he
was there.”

“You won’t get away with this,” I stammered.

“I have once and I will again. It would have been so much better if you’d left the
whole thing alone, so much easier if you hadn’t jumped out of the way last night.”

“That was you in the car?”

“Of course! And now I have to finish off what I started.”

“If you fire the gun, everybody will hear,” I said.

“Do you think I need a gun to kill you?” he questioned. “I could do it with—”

The door to the room opened, and Mrs. Remington peeked inside.

“Mrs. Remington!” I yelled. “Help me, help me!”

“Keep her quiet!” Mrs. Remington ordered.

What did she say?

“Somebody will hear,” she said as she stepped into the room and closed the door
behind her. “Keep the girl quiet!”

Suddenly Edward put a hand around my throat, squeezing tightly. He pulled me so close
I could feel his breath against me. “If you yell again, I will kill you here and
now. Do you understand?”

I nodded, and he released his grip. I practically fell over, barely managing not to
tumble backward as I gulped in a breath of air.

“You know, Mother, none of this would have been necessary if you hadn’t arranged to
bring her back here,” he said.

“She was coming to Kingston anyway. I simply wanted to be able to have more control,
and, as always, it’s a good thing I did. I’m here to help clean up your mess once
again.”

Then it dawned on me. “You were the one who made the phone call about where to find
the hammer.”

“Arranged all the details and then made the phone call,” she said. “I told you, dear,
a mother will do whatever is necessary to protect her children. Edward, do you have
a plan?”

“Yes. I know it’s not enough to dispose of her without disposing of her boyfriend.”

“David? What are you talking about?” I demanded.

“You’re right,” Mrs. Remington said. “He asks too many questions. But how you will
get him out of the picture?”

“It’s simple. Instead of him asking questions, I plan to make him the answer. It will
be such a sad story: our dear Lizzy was killed by her boyfriend, and then he was so
distraught that he took his own life.”

“That’s impossible. He would never harm me…never take his own life.”

“Of course he wouldn’t,” Mrs. Remington said. “Which is why we’ll arrange it. It
shouldn’t happen here at the house.”

“It won’t,” Edward said. “I was thinking east of town, by the lake. I’ll call and
arrange a meeting, tell him that Lizzy needs his help.”

“I’ll make the call. He’ll believe me and, perhaps more important, he is afraid of
me,” Mrs. Remington said. “He won’t suspect a thing. Now, first things first. We
need to get her out of the house. I’ll go down to the kitchen and summon all the
staff for a meeting, although they’ll want to know where Lizzy is.”

“Have somebody check her room, and they’ll see she isn’t there,” Edward said. “It
will only help to have them know she’s missing.”

“Wait here. I’ll be back,” Mrs. Remington said. “And keep her quiet!”

She made her way to the door, felt around for the handle and opened it. Richie was
standing there.

“What are you doing?” Richie asked.

“Nothing, nothing,” she stammered. “You have to go downstairs.”

He looked past his mother, first at Edward and then at me. “Lizzy, would you like to
come out to see my pigeons?”

“She can’t come. She and Edward are talking,” Mrs. Remington said. She was composed
again, hardly missing a beat.

“Edward can come too.”

“I haven’t got time for this!” Edward snapped.

“Come on, Richie,” Mrs. Remington said. “It’s time for us to—” Richie stepped into
the room, brushing by his mother and almost knocking her down as he passed. He was,
as always, holding his shovel.

“Get him out of here!” Edward yelled.

Richie stepped between Edward and me, stopping with his face just inches away from
mine. He looked confused, almost pained, as he stared directly into my eyes. His
mother yelled and his brother grabbed him by the shoulder, trying to move him, but
Richie shrugged him off, standing immobile.

“Are you scared?” he asked me.

I nodded my head.

“Did my brother hurt you?” he asked.

Before I could answer he spun around until he was facing Edward. “Did you make Lizzy
cry? Did you hurt her?”

“Get away, you big oaf!” Edward yelled. He went to raise his pistol, and Richie swung
his shovel. There was a dull, sickening thud as it smashed into Edward’s head.
Edward flew backward, and then his body crumpled to the floor.

“What happened?” Mrs. Remington screamed. “What is happening?” She fumbled forward,
unable to see clearly what had transpired. “Edward, Edward, where are you?”

She bumped into Richie and then practically tripped over Edward, lying at her feet in
a ball. Realizing it was her son, she dropped to her knees and felt around until she
found his head, which was bleeding badly. His eyes opened, and he started to groan.
He was conscious and alive. I had to get away before he could get up. I had to get
away.

Then I saw it. Right over by Mrs. Remington’s side was the pistol, lying on the
floor. I could run, but how far could I get? I jumped forward, grabbed the gun and
raced to the door. I held the gun out in front of me, trying to pretend I knew what
I was doing.

“I have the gun. It’s over. I’m going to call the police,” I said, trying to sound as
calm as possible.

“Call the police,” Mrs. Remington said. “The sooner they get here, the sooner you’ll
be arrested.”

“Arrested?”

“For attempted murder. You tried to kill my son! You hit him—you did this!”

“I didn’t do anything. I’ll tell them the truth.”

“The truth is whatever I tell them it is,” she said. “Who do you think they’re going
to believe—me and my son, or you? Do you think our dear friend the chief of police
is going to do what
I
ask or what
you
want?”