Chapter 3
Chapter Three
The list of people to reinterview comprised Deakins’s parents, friends from college, his classmates, his professors, and his roommate. The obvious starting point was the family, and there was no time like the present.
Mr. and Mrs. Deakins lived in Waban, about half an hour’s drive from the precinct. They’d reacted with surprise that the police should want to talk about their son’s death but had agreed to the visit later that morning.
“Looks like a nice place to grow up,” Dan murmured as they crossed over the Charles River. “Lots of trees.”
“You may think that, I may think that, but we don’t know what Leo Deakins thought about his hometown.
Maybe that’s why he took to selling drugs.
He wanted to salt away enough money so he wouldn’t end up living in Waban.
” Gary had to admit the colors of the turning leaves gave the town an attractive appearance.
“If I’d grown up here, I’d have been down by the river every chance I got.”
“Where did you grow up? Was it in New Hampshire?” The topic had never come up, but after the way Dan had reacted to Lewis’s remarks about eating off silver platters, Gary figured he didn’t want to discuss his upbringing. It was obvious he came from a wealthy family—how wealthy was anybody’s guess.
“Yes.”
After a moment’s silence, Gary chuckled.
“That’s all I get? I’m not asking you for a room-by-room description, okay?
I’m not looking to buy the place. But it would be nice to know something about your childhood home.
I mean, I’m going to see it at some point, aren’t I?
You told your dad you’d be bringing me to meet him and your mom. ”
Dan sighed. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I get a little defensive sometimes.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and scrolled. “That’s the house.”
Gary glanced at the photo, then did a double take.
“Oh my.” The two-story house with its frontage of multicolored stonework, dormer windows, and landscaped front yard wouldn’t have looked out of place on the cover of House Beautiful.
The roof dripped with blue icicle lights, and the lawn was covered with reindeer, a sleigh, snowmen, and a huge inflatable Santa.
Dan gave a sheepish grin. “Yeah, Dad always goes overboard when he decorates for the holidays. He was the same when I was little. And you will see it. You’ll be spoiled for choice when it comes to which guest room you’d like.”
“Why? How many bedrooms are there?”
“Six.” Dan smiled. “Four kids, remember?” He paused.
“Tell you what. Why don’t I organize a trip to Hampton Falls sometime soon?
We’ve been living together since the end of June.
It’s about time you met my family.” He reached across and squeezed Gary’s knee.
“Seeing as you’re going to be a part of my life for a long time to come. ”
Dan’s quiet confidence sent a wave of contentment washing over him.
“I’d like that.” Then he spied the street sign and took a left onto Chestnut Steet.
“This is it,” he said as he turned right onto Anita Circle.
The house was on the right, nestled among trees, their foliage starting to cover the lawns on either side.
He pointed to the left. “That’s the house.
” He pulled up to the curb and switched off the engine.
White-painted steps led up to the front door of the townhouse, and to the left the driveway sloped down toward the garage door.
They got out, and as Gary locked the car, the door opened. A man stood there, possibly in his late forties, his dark brown hair streaked liberally with gray. They walked briskly toward the house and mounted the steps.
“Mr. Deakins?” Gary asked.
“You the police? The ones who called?”
Gary nodded. “Detective Gary Mitchell, and this is Dan Porter, a consultant for the police.” He held his badge up, and Mr. Deakins peered at it.
“You’d better come in.” He stood aside, and they entered the hallway.
Dan sniffed. “Oh wow. Something smells amazing.”
Mr. Deakins smiled. “My wife’s been baking cookies. She’s popped out to go to the store.” He frowned. “Have we met, Mr. Porter?”
Dan’s flinch was momentary. “No, sir.”
It was all too easy for Gary to curse Lewis, the former detective who had deliberately turned the media spotlight on Dan when all Dan had asked for was anonymity, but that didn’t fly anymore, not after their last two successful investigations hit the headlines.
Mr. Deakins gestured to a door on the right. “Let’s go into the living room.” He pushed it open, and they followed him into a room filled with natural light. Framed photos occupied much of the wall space, and Gary recognized Leo from their file.
Except that had been the photo taken in the morgue. The young man who stared back at him from the wall had a light in his eyes that made him attractive.
They sat on the couch, and Mr. Deakins took an armchair next to the fireplace. “Gotta tell ya, your call was really intriguing. Why would you be investigating Leo’s death three years later? The police know how he died.”
“But we don’t know who killed him,” Gary explained in a low voice. “And that’s what we’re trying to discover.”
Mr. Deakins pursed his lips. “Sounds like a wild-goose chase to me, but hey, if you wanna waste your time, go for it.”
“Don’t you want the person responsible brought to justice?” Dan’s quiet voice rang clear.
“Of course I do,” Mr. Deakins fired back. “For all his faults, I never believed Leo was a drug dealer. A liar? Sure. Unscrupulous? Definitely. Hopeless with money? You bet. But a pusher? That doesn’t wash. It didn’t at the time.”
Gary got out his notebook. “Forgive me for saying this, but your description of Leo isn’t exactly flattering.”
Mr. Deakins snorted. “I know, right? When he was a little kid, he was freaking adorable, let me tell you. But once he got into his teens, he changed. I blame school. He obviously hung out with the wrong crowd.” He swallowed.
“Don’t get me wrong. I loved the little fucker, but you couldn’t believe a word he said. ”
“This might sound like a strange request,” Dan began, “but do you still have any of his possessions?”
Silence.
Mr. Deakins stared at him, and then his eyes widened. “Now I know where I’ve seen you. You’re that psychic who helped put that serial killer behind bars this summer.”
“Guilty as charged.” Gary knew beneath Dan’s relaxed smile, his partner was a mess. This was always the part of the scenario they couldn’t predict.
Mr. Deakins leaned back, his gaze locked on Dan, and Gary’s pulse quickened.
Help us.
At last he nodded. “I know how you work. I watch TV. You wanna touch his stuff, don’t you? To see if you can learn more about how he died.”
“Touch is one of the ways I work, yes.” Dan straightened. “We’re here because Leo’s killer is still out there, and we want to change that.”
Mr. Deakins shuddered out a breath. “Then I’ll help you any way I can. I’ll take you to the garage. All Leo’s stuff is in boxes in there. I… I didn’t have the heart to throw it all out.”
“Because you didn’t believe what you were told about his death,” Dan reiterated. “You didn’t believe he was selling drugs.”
It was Mr. Deakins’s turn to straighten.
“No sir, I did not. Leo might have been into a lot of foolish things, but not that.” He rose.
“You come with me. I’ll point out the boxes that you’d be interested in, and then I’ll leave you alone.
I figure you don’t need me hovering in the background—not if you’re trying to concentrate. ”
A wave of relief swelled through Gary. Thank God.
Mr. Deakins led them out of the house and down the sloping driveway.
He rolled up the white garage door and went inside.
At the back of the neat space was a metal rack of shelves, filled with large cardboard boxes all labeled Leo.
Mr. Deakins hefted the boxes into his arms and carried them to the front of the garage.
When seven boxes sat there, he pushed his fingers through his hair.
“I’ll make you some coffee. Looks to me like this could take a while.” He glanced at Dan, his eyes twinkling. “Might even throw in a couple of Fran’s cookies.”
Dan thanked him, then waited until they heard the front door close. “I remember what you said about flashing a badge to get me into places. This is one of those places where we need to be.” He studied the boxes laid out in front of them. “Now let’s see what we can both learn about Leo.”
Gary opened each box, and Dan reached into them, removing various objects—clothing, books, action figures—and holding them, an expression of intense concentration etched into his face. Gary held back, letting him work. He knew better than to interrupt or ask questions.
Four months since he’d first seen Dan’s gift in action, and it still filled him with awe. Years of watching his parents deal with fakes had left Gary—and them—jaded and cynical, but Dan had changed all that.
He’s given us hope. And I will never take him for granted.
Mr. Deakins returned with two cups of coffee, but that didn’t deflect Dan from his task. Gary put the cup within reach and left Dan to it.
Dan sat on the concrete driveway, leafing through a box of magazines.
“He liked motorcycles, that’s pretty obvious.”
Gary took the comment as an invitation—Dan hadn’t spoken for the last forty minutes—and crouched beside him, peering at the glossy covers. “And he had good taste in them too.” There were magazines for Ducati motorcycles, Triumph….
Dan handed one to him, open. “Yeah, and look at this. He’s underlined advertisements from dealerships specializing in European motorcycles.
Those things cost a fortune.” Gary gave him an inquiring glance, and Dan coughed.
“My parents bought one for my older brother for his twenty-first.” He frowned.
“Why was he looking at stuff he couldn’t possibly afford? ”
“He could dream, right? Who hasn’t looked at a Ferrari and drooled?” Then Gary reconsidered. “Maybe this dovetails into the drug dealing. Maybe that’s why he wanted the money.”
Dan huffed. “Only if he was making meth someplace and selling it nonstop. These are really expensive bikes.” He tugged the last box toward him and peered into it. “There are police evidence bags in here.”
“What’s in them?”
“Two cell phones.”
“The police would’ve returned them after they closed the case.
” Gary stilled. “Wait a sec.” He pulled his notebook out and hunted through it.
“It said in the police report they found drug deals on one phone, plus the numbers for some well-known dealers.” He pointed to the phone in a plain black case.
“They figured he got this one for deals. There were no other contacts on it, or apps or anything personal.” He gazed up at the house.
“It doesn’t matter what his dad says about him not being a dealer—that’s hard evidence. ”
“Then let’s see if I can find anything else.” Dan picked up the magazine he’d handed to Gary and laid his hand flat on the page with the bike dealership, his eyes closed.
Gary fell silent, his breathing in sync with Dan’s measured breaths.
Come on, Leo. Speak to him. Show him something.
After a few minutes, Dan opened his eyes. “I’m getting a sense of excitement. He was seriously intending buying one of these.”
“How? By winning the lottery?”
Dan placed the magazine on top of the others and reached into the box. He took out the evidence bags. “I guess I can open these now.” He broke the seal, removed the phone with a lurid plastic case, and held it between his palms. Then he repeated the action with the black phone.
His brow furrowed. “Now wait a minute….”
“What’s wrong?” Gary’s scalp prickled.
“Were the police sure these were both Leo’s?”
“Yes. Why?”
Dan held up the lurid phone. “This one? I can feel him so much when I touch this. All the emotions I sensed when I held the rest of his things.” He put it down and picked up the black one. “Now for the weird part.” He looked Gary in the eye. “Leo Deakins never held this phone.”