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“For a while,” says Felicia, “I thought Tony might be the one, but something happened.”
Interesting. “Did Suzanne say anything at the time?”
I can see Felicia searching her memory. “I disagreed with her decision to break it off with Tony. He’s Italian, just like our family. That’s important.”
“Then Cole Wright came along,” says Teresa bitterly.
“That’s right,” says Felicia. “It almost seemed like he was waiting for Suzanne to be free. And a few weeks after they met, Suzanne started looking for apartments in Boston. Amber had an apartment in Mission Hill, and she needed a new roommate. It was supposed to be the start of a new chapter.”
There’s nothing more to say.
Teresa picks up her car keys and walks out. I need to get back to Garrett, find out what he learned from the inmate in Cranston. It could bring peace to this broken family. “I’m sorry, Felicia. I should go too.” I give her a strong hug. “Thank you for showing me the video of Suzanne. That’s the way I’d like to remember her.”
“Me too,” says Felicia.
When I head down the front steps, I see Teresa starting to pull out.
I walk right in front of her car.
She brakes hard. “Hey!”
“Teresa, I need to ask you something. How did you know where I’d find Amber?”
She’s irritated, impatient. “I was FaceTiming with a friend from Virginia Beach. Her brother knew Amber down there in electrician school, right before she changed her name to Lillian. My friend heard that she’d been a cheerleader. And she knew that my sister had been one too. That’s why she brought her up. Said she was working in an Irish bar in Southie. Eventually, I found a bartender with the right name.”
“And did you tell anybody else up here about Amber? About what her new name was? About where she was working?”
“Nope. Just you.”
“Well, somebody found out.”
Teresa taps the steering wheel. “So. You and your boyfriend getting any closer to nailing Cole Wright?”
What can I say? “You’ll know when we do.”
“Well, get busy,” says Teresa. “Now move!” I step aside. She puts the car in gear and pulls away.
I don’t trust Teresa enough to tell her that somebody else just confessed to murdering her sister. If O’Halloran’s lead pans out, Cole Wright might be in the clear—at least for that crime.
CHAPTER
38
Connecticut State Route 118
Icy rain pelts Garrett’s rental car. For long stretches of the drive from Rhode Island to Connecticut, he’s the only one on the road, which is good because the wipers are barely up to the task of keeping the windshield clear. It’s the middle of the afternoon, but as he passes through the farmland and woods on Route 118, visibility is so poor, it might as well be night.
Garrett is in a hurry to get home and talk to Brea. In this wintry mix, driving an unfamiliar car, he won’t call her and risk distracting himself with a conversation about his visit with DeMarco.
At Rhode Island Maximum Security Prison, he’d been hoping for something solid. Something provable. But all he got was an unpleasant blast from the past; it was like finding a rotten clam in a bowl of chowder.
Seymour Washington.
Garrett has known Washington a long time. The former Boston city council member, activist lawyer, and industrious privateinvestigator whose bread and butter is insurance cases, work injuries, and slip-and-falls has never been averse to working on the dark side of the law. A lot of his clients are attorneys who advertise on late-night cable shows. But the PI is also wired in to the underbelly of Boston and beyond. He knows secrets and he has access. Through pathways unknown.
When Garrett was reporting for theGlobe,Seymour Washington was often “a source close to the investigation.” Washington had even done some research for Garrett, but Brea’s distrust of the man had prompted Garrett to employ overseas hackers instead.
An oncoming pickup truck splashes slush against Garrett’s side door, then disappears in his rearview. He’s alone on the road again.