Fullepub 
Chapter 34
34
It’s Friday morning, and Reyes and Barr are reviewing the case. The crime scene has yielded disappointingly little in the way of evidence or clues. They have found no physical evidence left behind by the killer. Reyes is beginning to believe they are dealing with someone rather clever, someone able to plan a double murder and perhaps get away with it. But not if he has anything to do with it.
They know there was possibly another vehicle in the vicinity that night—the one the neighbor, Mrs. Sachs, claims to have seen. A pickup truck that could not have been mistaken for Catherine’s, Dan’s, or Jenna’s cars. Or Irena’s either. Whoever was driving it may have seen something. It’s possible the person in that truck may have killed the Mertons. But his instincts tell him otherwise. Unless one—or more—of the Merton offspring hired someone to kill the parents—possibly the person in the truck. But their police bulletins, the description to the media, the inquiries at shops that do that kind of custom paintwork—nothing has come of any of it.
The sergeant from the front desk knocks lightly on Reyes’s open door. “Sir,” she says.
“Yes, what is it?”
“There’s someone here to see you about the Merton case. Audrey Stancik?”
Reyes glances at Barr. “Fred Merton’s sister.” They haven’t had her in to talk to yet, but she’s on their list. He rises from his desk. “Let’s see why she’s here.”
They walk into the waiting area, and Reyes sees a plump woman with shoulder-length blond hair rise from one of the chairs. She’s well groomed, wearing bright coral lipstick and dressed in a beige pantsuit, a brightly printed blouse, and sensible heels. He estimates that she’s probably around sixty years of age. Fred, he remembers, was sixty-two.
They get Audrey settled in an interview room. Barr offers her coffee, which she gladly accepts. “Milk and two sugars,” she says.
“What brings you here?” Reyes asks at last.
“I know you’ve interviewed everyone in the family,” she says, her eyes shrewd, “except me.” She takes a sip of her coffee and puts it back down.
Reyes wonders if she’s merely a busybody who feels left out, but what she says next makes his ears prick up.
“I know a lot about that family,” she says. “And unlike the others, I’m willing to tell you about it.”
• • •jenna takes the train into New York City on Friday morning and meets Jake for coffee at a place they both like, the Rocket Fuel café. It’s a place where artists like to hang out—it’s cheap and grungy, with scarred tables and mismatched chairs, and the coffee is strong. She gets there first, watching for him out the window, waiting for him to come through the door. She hasn’t known him that long. She doesn’t know him that well. She hopes she hasn’t made a mistake.
She sees him enter the café, long and lean, and remembers how attracted she is to him. She’d almost forgotten about that. She smiles as he saunters over to her. She stands up and gives him a long kiss, sparking looks from the other patrons.
“Hey,” Jake says, his voice low and sexy. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” she says, and realizes that it’s true. She loves the smell of paint and turpentine coming off him, mixing with the smell of sweat.
Once he gets his coffee, they sit huddled close together at her small table. “It’s so good to see you,” he says, stroking her hair. “How are you doing? Are you okay?”
She nods. “I think so. But Jake—” She looks deep into his eyes and lowers her voice. “Catherine and I, we think maybe Dan did it.” He looks back at her gravely. She realizes that he’s not that surprised. It hits her then that everyone is going to see Dan as the obvious suspect.
She leans in closer, whispering. “The police obviously think he did it. He told them he was in that night, all night, and Lisa backed him up, but the cops have witnesses—he went out in his car, and he was gone for hours.” She adds, “He’s got an attorney now.”
“Are they going to arrest him?”
“I don’t know. I hope not. Catherine says they don’t have any evidence. They didn’t find anything at his house.” She pauses. “Except—”
“Except what?” Jake asks.
She tells him about the disposable coveralls in the garage and swears him to secrecy.
Jake says tentatively, “I saw him ask your father for money that night, and he shot him down.” He adds, “I didn’t tell the detectives about that.”
She looks down at the scratched table in front of her. “I don’t know what to do.”
“There’s nothing you can do,” Jake assures her. “Just sit it out. What’s going to happen is going to happen.” He reaches out and takes her hand. “And I’m here for you. You know that, right?”
She leans in and kisses him softly on the mouth, grateful. She breaks off the kiss.
“Do you want me there tomorrow? At the funeral?” he asks.
“If you don’t mind,” she says. She grimaces. “It’s going to be fucking awful. The police will be there, watching everything.”
If Dan tries to talk to Jake at the funeral, she thinks, she’ll be there, right beside him, and put a stop to it. Their coffees finished, she says, “Maybe we should go back to your place and figure out what you’re going to wear tomorrow.”
“That’s just an excuse to get me into bed, isn’t it?” he says.
She smiles.
