Julie came in close behind Kennedy and turned as the door closed. She watched the policemen as they noted details. One of those details was the brownish stain that had soaked into the concrete of the sidewalk.
“Okay, I’ll pass along the message. Now inform the news division that I’ll be filing a live report from Bright Waters on the murder, using the affiliate that’s already here. Tell whoever you need to pull some strings and threaten whoever needs to be bullied, and get me that affiliate crew’s cooperation.”
Kennedy removed his coat and shook out the rain as he sat at the counter. He eyed the three policemen sitting further down the counter and the four others in a booth eating breakfast. An old man in cook’s whites placed a cup of steaming coffee in front of Gabriel and then started to move away.
“Quite a bit of excitement,” Kennedy said. The man stopped and turned.
“Don’t know how folks can eat after seein’ things like that,” he said. He placed a cup and saucer in front of Julie when she sat, and poured her coffee without asking if she wanted any.
“Did you see what happened,” Gabriel asked as he poured sugar into his cup. Julie placed her bag on the stool next to her and watched the exchange.
“You bet I did. I never want to see anything like it again.” The old man turned and disappeared behind the swinging doors.
Julie sipped the hot coffee and then turned to look at the policemen, who were in turn eyeing her. She turned back and removed her own coat, laying it over her large bag.
“Jason said that John Lonetree had quite the experience; Sanborn’s about to have kittens. He wants you to call him as soon as you can.”
Kennedy held out his hand, indicating that he needed the phone. Julie started to place the cell phone into his hand, but when the door opened she pulled it back and raised her cup to her lips instead.
“Mr. Wonderful is here. That didn’t take long,” she said, hiding her moving lips behind the cup.
“It seems your cast of characters is fast coming together. Well, minus one of the players. Paul Lowell won’t be making the cast party,” Damian Jackson said as he removed his soaking raincoat. “Why don’t we grab a booth so we can talk.”
Kennedy sat motionless and Julie sipped her coffee. Then they slowly rose and walked over to the nearest booth. They sat, both on one side to face the grand inquisitor. Jackson watched them sit. He eyed the state policemen sitting at the counter, and then the four in the booth at the back of the diner.
“I think we have a prisoner almost ready for transport,” he said to them. “Or do you want the local constable to handle it?”
As Kennedy and Julie watched, the three policemen at the counter and the four in the booth all rose.
“And leave the man a sizable tip. I have to eat here today and tonight.”
The policemen started tossing dollar bills on the counter and booth table. They didn’t meet the large detective’s eyes as they placed their Smokey the Bear hats on and left the diner. As they did, the old man stepped out of the kitchen with his coffee pot, but Jackson waved him off. He sat down across from Julie and Gabriel. This was the first time that either of them had seen Jackson without a tie and not looking as if he had just stepped out of a GQ magazine ad.
He smiled at the two people across from him as he laced his fingers together.
Silence hung between the three like an invisible wall. Gabriel knew he was the focus here, even though he had nothing to do with Kyle Pritchard or Paul Lowell.
“I would liked to have seen Kelly Delaphoy sitting there. I have a few pointed questions to ask her about tonight’s events.”
“She’s conferring with the network legal department at the moment,” Julie said. Kennedy remained silent and kept his eyes on Jackson.
“I imagine she is.”
“Detective Jackson, why would two missing men show up after eight days, and then one kill the other with a state police detective as a witness?” Julie asked. She pulled out her small digital recorder, which Jackson immediately covered with a bear paw-sized hand.
“This is not your interview, Ms. Reilly. It’s mine.”
Julie pulled her hand and recorder out from under Jackson’s palm and clicked on the device. “Then I’ll forward you a copy. It will save us all a lot of time. Otherwise, you know what you can do with your questions.”
Damian smiled, the expression falling short of his brown eyes. He pulled a sugar dispenser toward him and started rolling it. Kennedy recognized the sleight of hand gesture as a way policemen had of distracting the person they were questioning — a trick that only worked on people who were scared to begin with.
“Now, what condition is Kyle Pritchard in?” Julie asked, pen poised over her notepad.
“Okay Ms. Reilly, quid pro quo. I’ll play along and then I would like something answered.”
“Fair enough,” Julie said.
“I wasn’t asking you,” Jackson said. He was eyeing Kennedy.
“What questions could I answer that would cast light onto something only you witnessed?”
“In answer to your question, Pritchard is in shock. He looks emaciated and he’s dehydrated.”
Julie wrote down Jackson’s answer.
“His last words to me, after he slit the throat of your network personality,” he said looking from Kennedy to Julie, and then back, “were, they’re mine. Does that sound familiar, Professor?”
“In the spoken word, no. Not familiar at all; however, I’ve seen those words written on paper.”
“Don’t play games with me, Kennedy. You did that once before and you paid dearly for it.”
“Yes I did. Both of you saw to that. Let me add that a closed mind, coming from either you or Ms. Reilly here, is a very dangerous thing to have when you’re facing something like Summer Place. I suspect however neither of you will realize it until that house jumps up and bites you both on the ass. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a phone call to make.”
Jackson started to reach out and take Kennedy’s arm, but stopped short. Gabriel looked at him with an intensity the detective didn’t remember Gabriel having before. The professor leaned over and looked the detective in the eyes once more.
“And I would expect my antagonist to allow me an even playing field. Let me speak to Pritchard before you cart him off to Philadelphia for your own inquisition.”
“Of course. That’s why I’m happy to see you here, Professor. I want your take on his state of health and well being.”
Kennedy held Julie’s cell phone up and waved it. “Excuse me.”
Julie watched Kennedy leave. She jotted her observation down in her notebook and then looked up, smiling at the detective. “He seems to have grown a set of balls since the last time you confronted him.”
“No comment,” Jackson said. “I take it you are seeing things quite differently nowadays too, Ms. Reilly?”
“Let’s just say, I have a little bit more of an open mind than I used to have.” Julie turned off the recorder and gathered her things. “I’m going to give you some time to think about my question, Detective. Just where the hell were Pritchard and Lowell all this time? I mean, you searched high and low for them, and then all of a sudden they come strolling into Bright Waters to demonstrate to you personally their culpability in a hoax, and then one kills the other. And please don’t stick with a pat policeman’s answer. This is damn strange and you know it. So think hard, Detective, because in just two days Kennedy may have a point to ram home to you.”
“And that is?” Jackson asked as Julie rose.
“The point is, that house is beginning to look like it just may be capable of reaching out and biting us both in the ass, just like it may have done to Pritchard and Lowell. And you know what else I’m beginning to believe?”