Laurant knew that nothing she could say would change his opinion of his performance.
“Normally, Wesson would have been just as happy and relieved as everyone else,” he said.
“He wasn’t?” she asked, surprised.
“He isn’t a monster, or at least he wasn’t back then,” he qualified. “But jealousy was eating him up. Sure he was happy the little girl was all right . . .”
“But?”
“Nick deliberately left him out. He should have told Wesson what he suspected and let him run with the ball.” Noah paused for a moment. “Yeah, that’s what he should have done, but I’m glad he didn’t. Tit for tat, as childish as that was. And in his defense, and mine because I backed him, we were young and stupid back then, and neither one of us gave a damn about career politics. We still don’t. Nick had to be sure the kid was there, and so did I. Anyway, Wesson found out about the girl after the fact, from Morganstern. Nick and I were already on our way to the airport. Nick had wanted to prove a point, but he had humiliated Wesson, and ever since then, the mere mention of his name or mine gets the same kind of reaction as pouring salt on an open wound. Neither one of us have had to work with him since, until this case.”
Laurant propped her elbow on the table, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. She stared at Noah, but didn’t really see him. She was thinking about the story he had just told her.
Until this moment, there had been a tiny little hope in the back of her mind that Nick would quit his job. And, oh God, how selfish and wrong she had been to want such a thing.
“Life doesn’t have any guarantees, does it?” she said.
“No, you’ve got to grab what you can while you can. Nick’s good at what he does, but he’s burning out. I can see it in his eyes. The stress is going to kill him if he doesn’t get some balance in his life. He needs someone like you to come home to at night.”
“He doesn’t want that.”
“He may not want it, but he needs it.”
“What about you?”
“We aren’t talking about me,” he said. “You and Nick are something else, you know that? Being on the outside, observing, it’s really easy to see what’s going on. Want me to enlighten you? I’ll warn you in advance. You won’t like what I have to say.”
“Go ahead,” she said. “Enlighten me. I can take it.”
“Okay,” he agreed. “Here’s the way I see it. You and Nick are both trying to alter reality. You’re both running away from life. Don’t argue with me until I’m finished,” he told her when he saw she was about to interrupt. “Nick’s trying to close himself up, to distance himself from everyone, even his family, and that’s a big mistake in his line of work. He needs to feel, because that’s the only way he’s going to stay sharp and focused. I can see he’s getting to the point where he doesn’t want to take a chance on feeling anything at all because that would make him too damned vulnerable. If he keeps going this way, he’s going to become hard and cynical. And he sure as hell won’t be any good at his job. Now as for you . . .”
“Yes?” She straightened in the chair, tense now as she waited to hear his verdict about her.
“You’re doing the same thing, just in a different way. You’re hiding out here in this little town. I know you don’t see it that way, but that’s what you’re doing. You’re more afraid of taking a chance than Nick is. If you don’t put yourself out there, you can’t get hurt. That’s how you view life, isn’t it? And if you keep going this way, you’re going to turn into a bitter, old, dried-up prune, and a coward to boot.”
She knew Noah wasn’t deliberately trying to be cruel, but what he had just said devastated her. Was that how he saw her? Laurant shrank back and gripped her hands together. A coward? How could he think she would ever become a coward?
“I don’t believe you understand—”
“I’m not finished. There’s more. Want to hear it?”
She braced herself. “Yes, go ahead.”
“I saw one of your paintings.”
Her gaze flew to his. “Where?” she asked, astonished. Why did she feel the sudden pang of fear?
“It’s hanging in Tom’s bedroom,” he told her. “And it’s one of the most powerful paintings I’ve ever seen. You should be damned proud of it. I’m not the only person who thought it was incredible. The abbot wanted to hang it in the church. Tom told me he stole the painting from you. He also told me that you keep all your paintings wrapped up tight and hidden away in your storage closet so no one can see them. That’s one sure way to beat rejection, isn’t it? It’s safe. Like the kind of life you’re building here. Well, guess what, babe. There’s no such thing as a safe life. Bad things happen, like your brother getting cancer, and there isn’t a damned thing you can do about it. You’re sure trying though, aren’t you? Maybe thirty years from now you’ll have convinced yourself that you’re content with your perfect, safe life, but I assure you, it’s going to be lonely. And by then, the amazing talent you have will probably have dried up.”
Laurant shuddered under the weight of the future Noah had just described. He was forcing her to open her eyes and take a hard look at herself.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, I do. You just don’t want to hear it.”
She bowed her head as she mentally argued against his bleak prophecy. Perhaps when she’d first moved to Holy Oaks, she had been running away from life. But it wasn’t like that now. She’d fallen in love with the town and the people, and she had become involved with the community. She hadn’t just sat back and let the world revolve around her.
Noah was right about her painting. She had always considered it too personal to share with anyone else. It was a part of her, and if others saw her work and rejected it, she felt that they would be rejecting her.
She had been a coward. And she would lose what little talent she had if she kept on this path. If she didn’t experience life, how could she possibly translate it onto canvas?
“I don’t throw them away,” she admitted hesitantly. “I keep the paintings.”
Noah grinned. “So maybe you might want to think about unwrapping them one of these days and letting other people see them.”
“Maybe,” she said. After a moment’s reflection she looked at him and smiled. “Yes, maybe I should do that.”
Noah took his plate to the sink and rolled up his sleeves as he prepared to do the dishes. He was complaining about the fact that the abbot wouldn’t spend the money for a dishwasher while he worked.
Laurant wasn’t paying any attention. She was still lost in thought. Noah had just given her a wake-up call. He’d opened a door for her, and she had the choice of going outside or pulling the door closed again.
When Tommy came back into the kitchen, Noah said, “I told Laurant you took one of her paintings.”
Tommy immediately took a defensive stance. “I stole it, and I’m not sorry. You want it back now, don’t you?”
“Which one was it?” she asked. Suddenly, she was very hungry. She took a bite of the chicken and reached for a cold biscuit.
“The only one I could get my hands on,” he said. “It was in front of the others in the closet. I didn’t even know what I was taking until I got it home and unwrapped it. And do you know what’s a crying shame, Laurant. It’s the only painting you’ve done that I’ve ever seen. You keep them hidden away, like you’re ashamed of them.”
“But which one was it?”
“The kids in the wheat field with all that light shining down on them. I love it, Laurant, and I want to keep it. You know why? Because there’s such joy and hope in it. When I look at it, I see heaven smiling on the children. It’s as though the streams of light are actually God’s fingers reaching down to touch them.”
Emotion welled up inside her. She knew that he meant every word he’d said. Joy and hope. What a glorious compliment. “Okay, Tommy. You can keep it.”
Her brother looked shocked. “Really?”
“Yes,” she answered. “I’m so happy you like it.”
Nick wasn’t about to be left out. “Damn it, I want to see it,” he said.
“All right,” she agreed.
Noah winked at her, and she suddenly felt like laughing. “Yes, I mean it, but I’ll warn you, it’s not one of my best efforts. I can do much better.”
Nick’s phone rang, interrupting the conversation. Smiles vanished in a heartbeat, and the atmosphere in the kitchen became tense with anticipation. Nick answered as he walked into the pantry for privacy.
Pete was on the line, and he had stunning news. Tiffany Tara Tyler’s phone had been found in Steve Brenner’s white van, neatly tucked under the front seat. This new evidence put a lock on the case. They had their man.
“Did they find any prints?”
“He wiped it down, but he was a little sloppy,” Pete said. “He missed a spot on the bottom of the phone. The tech found what looks like a partial thumbprint next to the metal charger. He thinks it’s going to be enough for a solid match. It looks like they’re about to wrap this one up, Nick.”
Nick was shaking his head. “It doesn’t feel right,” he said. He paused and then added, “So that’s it. Case closed. Right?”
“Just about,” Pete agreed. “There’s other evidence, of course,” he said. “But as I understand the situation, Agent Wesson didn’t share what he had collected against Brenner with you.”
“How did you know that?”
“I spoke briefly with Agent Farley.”
“So Wesson has enough to convict?”
“With the woman’s phone in his car? Yes, he has quite enough.”
“That could have been planted.”
“We don’t believe that’s the case,” he said. “Had you been given information as it was being collected, I think you’d be feeling more confident that Brenner’s our man. You were kept out of the investigation,” he added. “And I plan to address that problem with Agent Wesson’s supervisor first thing Monday morning. This will not happen again,” he added emphatically. “As for you, I suggest you take Father Tom fishing. Relax a little. God knows, you’ve earned it.”
Nick rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the knots of tension. He was weary and frustrated. “I don’t know, Pete. My instincts are telling me that this is all wrong. I think maybe I’m losing it.”
“Your objectivity?” Pete asked.
“Yeah, I guess. I really did figure it all wrong. Tell me something. They’re running a voice match from the confessional tape and Brenner’s interrogation, aren’t they?”
“Yes, of course they are.”
“Brenner hasn’t confessed, has he?”
“No, not yet.”
Nick was filled with self-doubt. Maybe he just didn’t want to believe what was staring him in the face. From the very beginning, Wesson had put him in the position of trying to work the case blindfolded. Tiffany’s phone was found in Brenner’s van. That should have clinched it. And yet he still wasn’t convinced.
“Why are you fighting this?” Pete asked. “We’ve had a good result here.”
Nick sighed. “Yes, sir, I know. I guess I do need to take some time off. You were right,” he finally admitted. “I got too personally involved.”
“With Laurant?”
“You saw that coming?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll deal with it. You’ll let me know what the lab results are?”
“Yes,” Pete promised. “Give my best to Father Tom and Laurant.”
Nick disconnected the call and stood in the pantry for a long minute staring into space. He was trying to work it out in his mind, to go with it, to believe that it was over. He told himself he was trying to make the case more complicated than it was. Some cases were easy. Like this one. Yeah, it was finished. Case closed. They had their man.
And still the nagging doubt wouldn’t go away.
CHAPTER 33
The nightmare was finally over. Tommy and Laurant were astounded to learn that Tiffany’s phone had been found in Brenner’s car. Nevertheless, both brother and sister were overjoyed that the killer was now behind bars. When Noah suggested they celebrate, Tommy nixed the idea. He reminded him that two women had been murdered and said that he was going to go into the church to say a prayer for the souls of Tiffany Tyler and a young woman named Millicent.
“He sure was good at masquerading his voice when he was whispering to me in the confessional,” Tommy said. “He fooled me all right,” he added with a shake of his head.
“He fooled all of us,” Laurant said. She felt weak with relief. She decided to join her brother in the church for a prayer.
She stood and looked directly at Nick when she asked, “So you and Noah will be leaving soon, won’t you?”
“Yes,” Nick answered without a second’s hesitation.
“No reason to hang around, is there?” Noah looked at Nick as he asked the question.
“No,” he answered curtly. “No reason.”
Laurant turned away so he wouldn’t see how his words had hurt her. She knew she was overreacting. From the beginning, she had known he would leave when his job was finished. His life was in Boston. He had stopped everything to help his friend, but now he would, of course, need to get back home.
“Places to go, people to see . . . ,” she said.
“Right,” he agreed.
Tommy was holding the door for her. “Come on, Laurant. Quit dragging your feet.”
She put her napkin down on the table and hurried after her brother. Nick and Noah followed. When they reached the back of the church, Nick pulled Noah aside while Laurant and Tommy went on ahead to one of the pews and knelt down together.
There were at least a dozen workmen rushing around trying to get the church ready in time for the wedding. Five of them were dismantling the scaffolding from the center aisle while a couple of others were folding up the tarps and carrying paint cans outside. The people from the local flower shop were standing up front, holding vases of lilies, impatiently waiting for Willie and Mark to finish wet mopping the steps and marble floor in front of the altar.
