Serial

63

Edmundsville, 2010

Since Eddie had gone away to school in Iowa, Link went to coin shows and conferences more often. He’d changed jobs and worked for Krupke Currency Exchange, a large coins and precious metals dealer. Much of the work was done on the Internet, but there was also a lot of travel involved. Link and Eddie were still in close touch via e-mail, and still discussed coins. Eddie would request certain coins for his collection, and Link would often find and purchase them. When he returned home, he’d put them in the drawer along with Eddie’s collection portfolio.

Beth watched Link through the window as he stepped down off the porch and walked to where the Kia was parked in front. He would take the car, or sometimes the pickup truck, and leave it at the airport in Kansas City while he was away-this time at a coin show and auction in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. He hoisted his big carry-on into the passenger side of the car and walked around and climbed in behind the steering wheel. He’d packed his sport coat and was wearing a white shirt and paisley tie. Beth noticed that he’d put on a little weight the past few years, and he wasn’t so nimble working himself in behind the steering wheel.

The sun-baked red car gave a rumbling roar, telling anyone within earshot it needed exhaust work. Link backed around so he was headed down the long dirt and gravel drive, then shifted to drive and was on his way. Beth stood at the window and watched until all the dust behind the car had settled.

Though they weren’t wet, she wiped her hands on the dish towel she was holding. After a slight detour to toss the wadded towel onto the sink counter, she went to the phone and called Sheriff Wayne Westerley.

Within two hours Westerley was parking his SUV, with its red and blue lights on the roof and the big sheriff’s badge painted on the doors, exactly where the Kia had been parked. He stepped down from the vehicle and hitched up his belt with the holster and law-enforcement paraphernalia hanging from it. Beth thought he’d put on weight just as Link had, only Westerley still had a flat stomach. His face and shoulders appeared somewhat broader in his tan sheriff’s uniform. He moved easily and with his familiar muscular grace as he came up the wooden steps to the porch.

Beth opened the front door and they looked at each other. Beth felt something tugging at her. She hadn’t expected that. Or had she?

Westerley was sweating, as if the SUV’s air conditioner didn’t work. He smiled. “Been too long,”

“It has,” Beth said. She wished she’d thought to make some lemonade, something. She returned his smile. “Get you something to drink? Glass of ice water to cool you down?”

“Be fine.” He removed his Smokey hat. His dark curly hair looked the same. Not even a fleck of gray.

As she was going into the kitchen she saw him placing the hat on the coffee table as he sat down on the sofa. She could feel herself slipping back in time. It was a pleasant but unsettling sensation.

She came back with a glass of water poured over cubes from the refrigerator ice maker. Nothing for herself. She handed Westerley his tall, clear tumbler and then sat down in the wing chair that was angled toward the sofa.

He sipped his water and grinned. “Just what I needed.” He glanced around. “Where’s Link?”

“Off to Cedar Rapids to a coin show.”

“He’s still heavily into that, huh?”

“Heavily. Working for a coin and precious metal company now. Mostly on the computer here at home, but he does some traveling, too.”

“And Eddie?”

“Away at school.” Nobody here but the two of us.

Westerley took another swallow of water. She watched his Adam’s apple work in the strong column of his throat.

He observed her with a half smile, as if this was an ordinary visit between old friends. He knew it wasn’t, but he couldn’t figure out where it was going. He put his glass down on a Coin Universe magazine. “You said you had a problem, Beth.”

“Did I say that?”

“Gave that impression.” He had a hard time keeping his gaze away from her cleavage showing above the scoop-neck white blouse she was wearing with her jeans. The jeans were faded and tight, molded to her body. Dressed for seduction? He realized his breathing was ragged. Took another sip of water. He felt like pressing the cold glass to his forehead but didn’t.

Beth squirmed in her chair. Whatever they were going to discuss made her uncomfortable. “I do have a problem, Sheriff.”

“Wayne. Name’s Wayne, Beth. Remember?”

She began absently wringing her hands in her lap. Her hands looked older, he noticed, though it hadn’t been that long since he and Beth had last seen each other. Edmundsville and Hogart weren’t all that far from each other, and in the same county.

“I do have a problem, Wayne.”

Sure. You have a son in college. That was his first guess. “With Eddie?”

“No.”

“Not with that bastard Salas?”

“No. Or maybe yes. More with Link.”

Westerley leaned back in the sofa and crossed a polished black boot over his knee. “Just relax and tell me what it is, Beth.”

She leaned forward slightly, as if to compensate for his settling back into the sofa. “You ever notice how much Eddie looks like Link?”

Westerley drew a deep breath and stared at her. He had noticed the resemblance, though he’d never made mention of it. “There’s some physical resemblance,” he said, “and people pick up the mannerisms of who they’re always around. Who raises them.”

“It’s more than that, Wayne. Like you said, it’s physical.”

“You do know what you’re implying, Beth.”

“I do. And I wouldn’t imply it to anybody but you.”

“But why-?”

“I don’t know why, Wayne. Link would be the one to tell you that, if what I suspect is true.”

“Jesus, Beth! What do you want me to do?”

She shook her head as if in sudden pain. “I’m not sure. I thought maybe you could tell me.”

“You did the right thing. I’m glad you called.”

“So am I.”

“I think you’ve given this some thought, Beth. We both know a possible way to make sure. DNA. A paternity check.”

“I can’t just up and ask Link if we can do that.”

“You wouldn’t have to ask him. I know people at the state lab where the tests are performed. It might take a while, though. They’re always running behind.” He ran a finger around the rim of his glass, as if expecting it to sing like fine crystal. “You sure you want to do this, Beth?”

“What do you need?” Beth asked.

“DNA samples of Link. And of Eddie.”

“We can find something, I’m sure. Some of their hair, with the follicle still attached.”

Westerley sipped his ice water. She’s been reading and learning about this.

Beth continued: “Link’s cigarette butts are still in the ashtray by the porch glider, and maybe someplace else in the house. Eddie keeps his own toothbrush here for when he visits. And we might even get nail clippings from both of them.”

Westerley nodded, thinking it all over. She might have already collected those samples. “Has Link been a good father to Eddie?”

“The best,” Beth said. “God help me, that’s what makes me suspicious-the way he treats Eddie, just like he’s his natural son. As if Link knew he existed and couldn’t keep away from him, so he married me to raise his own child.”

“Your rapist would want to be a true father to your son?”

“His son, too.”

Westerley pursed his lips and gave an almost silent whistle. “I can’t think of that ever happening, Beth.”

“But it could happen, Wayne!” Beth bowed her head. He saw tears glisten an instant before her dangling hair concealed her eyes. “Or maybe I’m sick and guilt ridden so I’m suspicious when I shouldn’t be.”

“You aren’t sick, Beth. Guilty, either. And you’re right about it being possible.” He lifted his glass again and took a long sip of the cold water. Condensation dripped from the glass onto his thigh, spotting his uniform pants. “I’m going to see if there’s enough left of the blood sample from the rape scene to make another DNA match. That’d be hard evidence.”

“Whatever you say, Wayne.”

“No, Beth, it’s whatever you want.”

She took several breaths and extended a hand with tentatively groping fingers, as if trying to find her balance. “I want to know everything, Wayne.”

She lifted her gaze. No sign of tears now. “Even if it means Link is Eddie’s biological father, and the man I’ve been loving and living with is the one who raped me.”

“There’d be serious fallout,” Westerley said. “You ready for that?”

“Of course not. But I need to know. I need the truth.”

“It doesn’t always set you free,” Westerley said.

“But it doesn’t slowly kill you, like a lie.”

When Westerley got back to his office, he found Billy Noth watching a guy from the state who looked about fourteen installing a new computer system. Westerley had been satisfied with the last one, but he’d been told it was five years old and hopelessly out of date.

“This is Jimmy,” Billy said.

The young guy grinned at Westerley. “You’re gonna love this, Sheriff. Put you right inside the heads of the bad guys.”

“Just where I want to be,” Westerley said.

“This baby’s gonna have some RAM,” Jimmy said. “New software’s gonna be ideal for data mining.”

Westerley wondered if Jimmy shaved yet.

“Soon as I’m done here,” Jimmy said, “I’ll give you a short orientation course. Then, you need any questions answered, all you gotta do is click on Help.”

And get further confused, Westerley thought.

That was pretty much the way it turned out. The new software was a lot like the old, only with additional speed and muscle. Trouble was, Westerley forgot how to use those new muscles almost as soon as Jimmy finished explaining.

“If you’re past fourteen years old,” Billy Noth said, smiling, “it’s hard to remember this crap.”

“That’s too bad,” Westerley said, “because you’re gonna be the department’s IT guy.”

“What’s that?” Billy asked.

Jimmy glanced from one to the other and shook his head hopelessly. “I’d stay and explain some more, but I’ve got another one of these to install before lunch.” He motioned with a lean, youthful finger for them to step closer. “C’mere. Before I leave, I just wanna make sure you two know where the Help button is.”

“Button?” Billy said.

After Jimmy had left, Westerley played with the computer awhile, trying to run through some of the routines he’d been shown. It soon became obvious how much more useful the new system would be once Westerley, or Billy, mastered it. Trouble was, that day seemed a long way off.

Westerley left Billy to play with the computer and walked down to the Hogart Diner for some lunch before he went mad. He made sure Billy understood the Help feature. That was the key, Westerley thought. Or button.

Norbert Vanderbilt (not a relation to the Vanderbilts), owner and cook at the diner, leaned on the counter and listened to Westerley’s computer woes.

After setting up a customer with a cup of coffee in a window booth, he returned to face Westerley across the counter. “You really need help with anything to do with computers, you oughta talk to my wife’s nephew, Mathew Wellman. Kid’s a genius.”

“Comes to tech, being a kid’s the first qualification,” Westerley said.

Norbert nodded. “Mathew’s only twenty-two and already graduated from Northwestern, got a doctorate from Cal Tech.”

“Expensive education,” Westerley said. “He go on scholarships?”

“Well, when you figure it out mathematically, these places paid Mathew to attend. He somehow worked it out so he made money getting his education.”

Westerley was interested. “So he really knows his stuff.”

Norbert made a backhand flipping motion with his right hand. “Mathew discusses computers and the Internet, nobody knows what the hell he’s talking about.”

“Sounds perfect,” Westerley said.

“He’s on sabbatical for a couple of months, staying at our place, so if you want, I’ll tell him to drop by and see you.”

“Sabbatical? I didn’t think students went on sabbatical.”

“Oh, Mathew’s teaching now. Back at Cal Tech. Making a fortune for such a young person.”

“Jesus!” Westerley said, thinking how nice it would be if he had a sabbatical coming, never mind the fortune. He did have some protracted time off once, after a fleeing felon had slammed an axe handle down on the back of his neck. It took a while for the bones to heal. “Ask Mathew to drop by the office when he has the time,” he said. “I’ll make out a list of things Billy and I can’t cope with.”

“Oh, he’ll be glad to help. He loves problems almost as much as he loves answers.”