Читать книгу Dead to Begin With - Vivian Conroy - Страница 12

Marge held open the diner’s door for her. “After you.” Following Vicky, she inhaled deeply. “Cinnamon rolls, fresh from the oven. You’ve got to try some. They’re the best. You find a seat, I’ll order. Coffee?”

“Make it a large one.”

“Great idea. I’ll join you. Rolls are on me.”

As Marge made her way to the counter, Vicky looked around for two empty seats. The place was buzzing with local people who grabbed a quick coffee here and tourists who wanted a bite before they took a boat out. Those seated by the window were looking out into the street. It struck Vicky for the first time how much you could see from here. Had the outsider who had abducted Celine at the time spent hours here keeping an eye on everything? Determining how town life worked so he knew how to strike without being spotted?

“Here.” Marge appeared beside her carrying two steaming mugs in one hand, a plate filled with cinnamon rolls in the other. “How about that booth over there?”

“Yes, fine.” Vicky flushed realizing how she had been thinking about Celine’s disappearance again. A crime, or at least something that had looked a lot like a crime. And one that had never been solved. Some said that old Sheriff Perkins hadn’t tried hard enough because he had known who was involved. Someone influential in town, whom he did not dare touch.

Vicky shivered. She didn’t want to believe that was true. Glen Cove was such a friendly little place where people only wanted the best for each other. It was impossible someone would have lived among them for over twenty years, hiding such a dark secret. If Celine had met a sad fate, it had been the work of an outsider. A lunatic. The mystery would probably remain unsolved forever.

Vicky forced her thoughts away from it and followed Marge. Just as Marge wanted to deposit her mugs and plate on the table of the empty booth, two men came up from the other side claiming the same spot. One of them was in uniform. As he pulled off his hat and grinned, Vicky recognized him at once. Her mouth fell open. “Cash?” she said, “Cash Rowland?”

The man looked at her and seemed to be equally surprised. “Vicky! I had heard you were back in town. I planned on stopping by your project one of these days, to see for myself what you’re up to.”

He looked her over with an appreciative grunt. “You look good.”

So did he. A little more weight round the waist maybe, but as he was tall and athletic, it did no harm. A head of full blond hair, wild curls like he had always had. She bet he still drove a conspicuous car when he was off duty. One that would get him noticed wherever he went. Cash had always liked to get noticed.

Cash Rowland had been one of her best friends while she had grown up, the center of their group of friends, always good for a laugh, always in for a crazy idea. He was the one who had taken them all to Boston in his dad’s old station wagon to see some baseball game. She couldn’t recall what it had been, but it had been important to the guys. The girls had just tagged along because with Cash around you could always have fun.

His father had made it big inventing some small part that made machinery on ships work better. One invention, a lifetime of proceeds. The family had lived in a big old house on the outskirts of the town. They didn’t have the clout of background or town history, but they did have money. For a lot of people that was enough. Cash Rowland had gotten away with anything, including speeding, camping on public grounds…

It was odd to see him in a uniform all of a sudden and realize he was now the law around here. The Rowlands had always been a law unto themselves.

Was that why Claire had called the new sheriff incompetent? She had never liked Cash Rowland any better than she had liked Michael Danning. All bad boys. All trouble.

“Why don’t we sit down here together?” Marge suggested. “There’s plenty of room.” She cast curious looks from Cash to Vicky and back. Vicky wondered if there was something about the way Cash stared at her that had made Marge perk up.

Cash’s companion excused himself saying he’d call Cash later and walked off. He wore cowboy boots with gleaming silver toe pieces and spurs that clinked as he walked.

“Dear me,” Marge said. “I hope we didn’t scare him off.”

“No, he just wanted to talk about something that uh…” Cash fidgeted with his hat “…can wait.”

“OK.” Vicky sat down opposite Cash and cradled her coffee mug in her hands. She breathed the invigorating scent, then asked, “You’re sheriff now? I had no idea you aimed for a career in law enforcement.”

When they had discussed what they all wanted to be, Cash had always said pilot, or race-car driver.

Or stuntman.

Something risky that would take him places.

But they had all known he would probably just take over his father’s business. There was a big difference between your dreams and the way life worked out.

Cash shrugged. “It all happened so fast, you know. Perkins was getting re-elected time after time. People said he should get some competition. I put myself up to see how the town would respond to my candidacy. Kind of a joke really.”

It was so like Cash Rowland to run for sheriff, by way of a joke. He had never taken anything too seriously. She supposed most of Glen Cove had known that too, so it was surprising the townspeople had voted for Cash anyway. Maybe they had all just been longing for a change? Any change?

“Don’t scowl like that.” Cash took a cinnamon roll and bit into it with a grunt of appreciation. “I know it sounds weird, but people put their faith in me by electing me and I don’t intend to let them down. I already solved a cattle theft last week.”

Marge Fisher leaned back and laughed. “You call that solving?”

Turning to Vicky, she explained, “It turned out the cows that had been reported stolen had simply found a break in the fence and had walked off onto somebody else’s land. Once the neighbor reported major damage to his corn, the case was easily solved.”

Cash looked offended. “That’s what you say. I had to determine the amount of damages the owner of the cows had to pay to the guy whose corn got trampled. He threatened to take the thing to court, which would of course have been bad for both of them. I reached a settlement by applying all my tact and finesse.”

Vicky suppressed a burst of laughter. Cash had never been known for anything like tact, although he had always had a way with words to convince people of things they really didn’t want to do. She had figured he’d become a politician and talk himself into the senate or something. But of course he could have been thinking, like her, about aging parents, and the advantages of living close to them. She had understood from Mom that Cash’s parents still lived in that enormous house. Maybe Cash wanted to keep an eye on them?

Vicky asked Cash about some of their old friends who were still in town. It seemed most of the girls had left. Had their parents felt uncomfortable after the disappearance case, thinking it could have been a madman who might strike again?

Vicky played with the long spoon from her coffee mug, looking for the right words to approach the topic. “How about Celine’s family? Her twin sister? What was her name? Diane?” She knew full well where she was of course, but she wanted to get Cash talking.

Cash sat up like he’d been stung. His hands on the table clenched into fists. “Why do you ask about her?”

“Oh, I don’t know. She was all over the front page of the Gazette the other day.” The sudden tension made Vicky wish she had left it alone. Still she was sort of curious why Cash reacted like that. “She seems to think the disappearance case can be reopened?”

“Just talk.” Cash’s expression was tight and dismissive.

Vicky scanned Cash’s expression. “So there are no new facts? Something to throw light on what happened to Celine back then?”

Cash exhaled. “Look, Diane should have known better.” He scooted to the edge of his seat and gestured with his hands as if to underline his point. “She moved away from here after the disappearance, remember? Not everybody understood her decision to leave. Some thought it was terrible for her parents. Others even said she knew more. Had covered for Celine’s secret meetings with that unknown man.”

“So Diane knew there was a man involved?” Vicky leaned forward.

“That’s what they said.” Cash made a gesture with both hands. “But Diane left, graduated, met her future husband and got married. She lived abroad for all this time, raising three kids, who are all in an international school now. Then the marriage started to show cracks, so she went to a shrink. I guess she only wanted to hear that she had empty nest syndrome, and should get a hobby or something. But the guy told her that it all goes back to her sister’s disappearance. To unsolved business that burdens her life.”

It was obvious that it was all psychobabble to Cash.

“Her doctor,” Cash continued grimly, “told her she has to find some way to end the thing, for herself, in her mind.” He tapped his temple. “So instead of taking a nice vacation or something, and thinking it over for herself, Diane decided she has to show up here again. She’s back for the summer, intending to talk to all the people involved back then, in the investigation. Police officers, witnesses, friends. She’s walking around with a tape recorder, actually taping conversations. She says it’s just for closure and she’ll do nothing with the material she collects. Like write a book about it or something? But that big spread in the paper tells me a different story. She does want something.”

Vicky watched the tension flicker over Cash’s features. Knowing he was sheriff now, responsible for peace and quiet in Glen Cove, she could understand his resentment.

“Nobody can forbid her to do it of course,” Cash continued, “and I’ve heard there are actually people who enjoy talking about it, coming up with bizarre details they never shared with the police back then. To them it’s just something interesting, out of the ordinary. But…among other people there’s a feeling that it might do a lot of damage If not to Diane, then to the others who were intimately involved.”

Vicky exhaled slowly. She saw the risks as well. Had Michael and Diane understood the full impact of what they were doing? Also to each other? For Michael, seeing Diane, who was Celine’s mirror image, might bring back a whole lot of unwanted memories. Frustration and anger he might have believed to be long forgotten.

She said slowly, “Diane must believe she has something to go on. Else she would not have risked this.”

Cash nodded. “Well, you’d start thinking that. More than one person asked me recently if there were old police files on Celine’s disappearance they could see. I told them they had to talk to Perkins about it. He took some old stuff with him, when he retired, to keep as his private archive in his barn. Not sure if they did turn to Perkins, and if they did, how Perkins responded to it. Knowing him, he won’t want any interference with his old files.”

“And who wanted to see those old police files?” Vicky asked. Her heart was pounding so fast she could barely breathe.

“Michael Danning of course,” Cash said. “And Mortimer Gill. Gwenda’s ex-husband.”