He’d expected to hear from Lynnette about the debacle of his mother’s visit. But his ex hadn’t called. His mother must’ve kept the incident at his apartment to herself. Which meant he had until three-thirty—another hour—before Jeremy got home and blurted out the details of the whole encounter to Lynnette. I met the lady named after the sky, and she was wearing Daddy’s underwear!
“Hey, what’s wrong with you today?”
David glanced away from his computer to respond to Tiny, who leaned into his cubicle.
“Nothing. Why?”
“You haven’t been to lunch with us for a week.”
“I’m just busy, trying to catch a break on those murders along the river. We need one. Fast.”
“Maybe not as fast as you think.”
Confused, David studied his friend. “What does that mean? You know Burke gets out today.”
“He’s already been released. But he’s not on his way home. He’s in the hospital.”
David felt his eyebrows shoot up. “What happened?”
“His cellmate stabbed him.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No.”
“Is he going to pull through?”
“He’ll pull through, but he’ll have to heal before he’s capable of attacking anyone.” Tiny handed him a slip of paper. “This is the address of the hospital where they sent him.”
David studied Tiny’s hen-scratch printing. The hospital was in the Bay Area, not far from the prison itself. “When will he be allowed to go home?”
“Warden said the doctors plan to keep him for two nights. After that, if all is well, he can finish recuperating wherever he wants.”
David pictured Burke as he’d seen him last week—confident to the point of cocky. “Why’d his cellmate stab him?”
“No one knows for sure.”
“When you nark on someone in prison, I guess you gotta expect retribution.”
“Exactly.” Tiny jingled his keys. “I know I haven’t been much help this week,” he said. “I’ve had too many other cases. But I’ve got some time today.” He jerked his head toward the door. “Wanna drive down to the prison with me? Talk to a few of the inmates who knew Burke and see what they have to say about him? Maybe peek in on Oliver himself?”
“I can’t,” David said. “It’s my turn to take Jeremy for the weekend, and I promised Lynnette I’d pick him up from her place before dinner.”
“No problem. I’ll check in with you later then, let you know how it goes.”
Relieved that Tiny was taking over and giving him the short break he needed in order to spend some time with his son, David turned off his computer and gathered the files he planned to take home. He was just putting Oliver Burke’s notebook on top of the stack when a fragment of what Miranda Dodge had said came back to him.
By then, the kid he’d fought had died in a drowning accident, so he wasn’t around to harass him anymore….
The story of Burke’s fight in eighth grade had been part of a general history, not something that immediately stood out. But it was another example of someone who’d wronged Oliver meeting up with an unpleasant fate, wasn’t it? What if that kid’s initials happened to be on Oliver’s list? Some of the early entries didn’t have exact dates, just years, but a few went all the way back to what would’ve been Oliver’s high school days. It was possible.
Picking up the phone, David called the number Miranda had given him.
A female voice answered. “Hello?”
“Miranda?”
“No.” There was a soft giggle and a low whisper as whoever had answered the phone spoke to someone else. “This guy thinks I’m my mom.”
David couldn’t help smiling. The “hello” had sounded adult enough, but he could now tell that this girl was far too young. “Is your mom home?”
“Yes. Just a minute.” There was a clunk as she dropped the phone. A minute later, Miranda came on the line.
“Hello?”
“Miranda, this is Detective Willis.”
“I hope you’re calling to tell me they’ve decided to keep Burke in prison.”
“I’m afraid not. But it’ll be a while before he’s fully functional.”
“What do you mean?”
“Someone stabbed him this morning. He’s got some healing to do.”
Her voice lowered. “I wish I could say that makes me feel sorry for him.”
David could understand why it wouldn’t. He doubted Burke would get much sympathy from Skye, either. “I have a quick question for you.”
“What’s that?”
“I was hoping you could give me the name of the boy who got into that fight with Oliver in the eighth grade.”
“Eugene Zufelt. Why?”
David didn’t answer right away. He was too busy checking the initials at the top of Oliver’s list. About ten lines down, he paused. Sure enough, there was an E.Z. with bully written next to it. Both the initials and the infraction had been crossed out.
A tingle told David he was on to something. “You said he drowned. Do you remember the circumstances surrounding his death?”
“I know his parents were vacationing in Hawaii at the time. And his older brother, who was staying with him, was out with friends. When the brother came home, he found Eugene floating in the pool.”
“What was he wearing?”
“Nothing. He was nude.”
David tapped his fingers on the desk. “Did they ever discover what happened?”
“He’d been drinking.”
“With friends?”
“Alone.”
“That seems a little odd for such a young teen. What was he, fourteen? Fifteen?”
“Fifteen, I think. But he was a perennial troublemaker. And there were signs of his having gotten into his parents’ liquor cabinet. They figured he got drunk, wasn’t thinking straight, dived into the pool and hit his head. It was one of those freak accidents.”
Maybe. Maybe not. “Did you go to the funeral?” he asked.
“Of course. They dismissed school early. Everyone went.”
“Even Burke?”
“No. At least, I didn’t see him.”
Despite her negative response, David was willing to bet Burke had been somewhere close by. That would be his moment to celebrate having paid Eugene back—with interest. “Do you have any idea how to reach Eugene’s parents?”