Chapter 16 #2
A cough had them all turn their heads toward the door.
Mrs. Cain smiled. “I’ll see to tea if you want to stay with your guests.”
Senator Cain frowned. “I’ll help.” He left them and followed her out of the room.
Dan turned to Gary. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“Do you think he’s clean?”
Gary scowled. “Yes, dammit.”
Dan chuckled. “Mrs. Cain is something of a ninja, isn’t she? I didn’t even hear her come in.” He gazed at the room. “This place is amazing.”
Gary agreed. “There must be a pool somewhere on the grounds too.”
“I glimpsed that when we were in the summer dining room. The pool house too.”
The door opened and Senator Cain entered, carrying a tray. He set it down on the coffee table. “Help yourselves. I was trying to locate some of Mrs. Kent’s cookies, but I think my wife took them with her when we left here last month.” He sat in the winged armchair by the window.
“Thank you again for coming back to meet us,” Gary said as he poured tea into the cups.
“It was no bother, not if it helps you with your case.”
Dan couldn’t help thinking that was not Mrs. Cain’s view. He heard what sounded like a creaking floorboard. “Is this place haunted?”
Senator Cain laughed. “No, but it does have its share of noises, like any old house.”
“I can’t get over the size of this place,” Gary commented.
“And yet you haven’t seen all of it,” the senator remarked.
“At the end of the driveway is the guest residence. I used to play there. For a child, it was a wonderful place, comprising quirky ceilings, curved windows, and so many nooks and crannies to hide in.” He chuckled.
“I once offered it to Cheryl as a place to paint, but she took one look and told me it was too dark.”
Dan could understand that reaction. “We saw the studio in Jamaica Plain where she worked on the copies. So much light.”
“Then you found it.” Senator Cain’s face glowed. “I’m so glad. Did you learn anything useful?”
“We haven’t gone through all her stuff yet, but we did find information about the paintings.”
“Which is what led you back to me. I understand.” Senator Cain’s brow furrowed. “However… there is another lead you might want to investigate.” He waved his hand. “Except you’ve probably already gone down that route if you’ve studied the case notes.”
“And what route would that be?” Gary asked.
Dan leaned forward, intrigued.
“Before she transitioned, Cheryl was involved in a car accident. 1983, I think.”
Gary nodded. “We know about that. Connor Brightmore. And we also know about the death threats that stopped when she transitioned.”
Senator Cain relaxed into the chair. “Of course. You’ve seen her father. He would have told you.”
“We went to talk to Connor’s father,” Gary continued. “I don’t think he knew about Cheryl, but he did know Benjamin Raskin was dead. He said no one in his family had had anything to do with that, and that the death was the work of an ‘avenging angel.’”
The senator sipped his tea. “And in the course of this conversation, did he happen to mention the angel’s name?”
“No, he did not.” Dan blinked. “You know who it was?”
Senator Cain nodded. “I can think of one person who might want Cheryl dead—and who is not one of the family.”
“Who?” Gary reached into his pocket for his notepad.
The senator set his cup down on the table. “Connor Brightmore may have been young—twenty, I believe, when he died—but he was in a relationship. It might be reasonable to assume the surviving partner would want revenge. If the family blamed Cheryl, then why not Connor’s partner too?”
Gary stared at him. “How do you know all this?”
Senator Cain shrugged. “I did some digging when Cheryl disappeared. I wasn’t going to leave any stone unturned.”
“Did you share your findings with Cheryl’s father?” Dan inquired.
“No. But I did inform Boston PD. Not that my theory was given a lot of credence by the detective I spoke with. He thought the length of time between Connor’s death and Cheryl’s disappearance was too long for the theory to be credible.”
“What was her name? Connor’s partner, I mean.”
The senator smiled. “His name was Ian Gordon. They met in college. And I believe it was serious.”
Dan let out a breath. “Now I understand that cryptic remark Connor’s father made.”
Gary gave him a puzzled glance. “What remark?”
“Don’t you remember? He said that with Connor’s death, the family line had come to an end, but then he added that had Connor lived, the result would have been the same.
If Connor was gay…. Someone from his father’s generation might believe that meant no children. Not that it does nowadays, of course.”
“Senator, why didn’t you mention this Ian Gordon the last time we saw you?” Gary asked.
“Because I assumed you’d already looked into him, just as I assumed there was a record of my findings in the notes. This is apparently not the case.”
Gary glanced at Dan. “We’ll take a look tomorrow.” Dan nodded. Gary returned his attention to the senator. “Thank you, sir. And regardless of what one of my former colleagues might or might not have done with the information you uncovered, rest assured, we will look into it.”
Senator Cain smiled. “Then I’m glad I brought it up.”
They finished their tea, and Dan asked questions about some of the paintings he’d seen upstairs.
Mrs. Cain reappeared. “I’ll just take all this away.” She loaded all the cups onto the tray, then carried it from the room.
The senator watched her leave with a shake of his head. “Della clearly likes you, gentlemen. She isn’t usually so attentive to my guests.” He smiled. “Of course, she’s eager to get back to Nantucket.”
“Thank you again, Senator. We must be going too,” Gary informed him.
He showed them to the door, and they headed for the car.
As Gary drove away from the house, Dan twisted in his seat to glance back at the senator standing at the front door, waving.
“So… what were your impressions?” Gary inquired.
“He cared a great deal for Cheryl, and he’s a man of integrity. He’s also capable of strong emotions, but I sensed he was keeping a lid on them.”
“You might have learned more if you’d shaken his hand,” Gary suggested.
“True, but asking to take his hand would have seemed strange, especially now we know what those hands look like under the gloves. Eczema can be really painful.”
“I’ve been thinking about what he told us. Either I missed it completely, or there was no record of him giving Ian Gordon’s name to the department.”
“Is it possible the detective he spoke with back then didn’t make a note because he or she didn’t think it was worth following up?”
“It’s possible, sure.”
Dan gave an emphatic nod. “Then we add Gordon’s name to the list of suspects.” He reached into his pocket, withdrew his phone, and pulled up Google Maps. “We pass close by Springfield, don’t we?”
“Fairly close, yes.”
Dan’s heartbeat raced. “Then I have a request.”
There was silence for a moment. “Please don’t ask me to take you back to the park where Brad died. I don’t think I could face that.”
Dan’s gut clenched. “No. I wouldn’t ask that of you. But I did think you might… take me to meet your parents.”
Panic rolled off Gary and crashed over Dan, and he instantly regretted the request.
“I’m not talking about you coming out to them, okay? But… I’m a psychic, remember? I’m just another avenue to try. After all, they’ve consulted psychics before, you said.”
Gary glanced at him. “You just want to get a feel for Brad?”
“Yes,” Dan assured him. “Tell them you’ve brought me to meet them to see if I can help.” He cocked his head. “Will there be enough of his belongings there for me to use?”
Gary’s shudder was all the answer Dan needed.
“Then call your mom. We can’t turn up unexpectedly.”
It was about time he did something to fulfill the promise he’d made to Gary.
Please, let me find something.