“I’ll probably be gone two hours at the most,” he said. “We can have dinner when I’m back. All of us. If you want?”
“That would be nice.” She was staring at the kids again, at Louisa in particular, running a thumb along the side of her face, maybe trying to memorize what she looked like now or maybe remembering what another little girl had looked like at this exact same age, so many years ago, in another time, in another universe, when things had been different, when life had been different, when no one had been dead or in pain or left frozen in a river, a mystery for everyone’s taking.
Sticks was already at the Agawam when Denny arrived. The old diner, open since 1954, was one of those silver relics with red vinyl seats, the kind that served five different kinds of pie, all homemade, and that only accepted cash and that had rules about what came on a hamburger versus a hamburger plate versus a hamburger club (Denny could never remember the difference). Sticks was staring down at a white, thick-walled cup of coffee, very light and creamy, from what Denny could see, running a thumb around the rim.
“Hello, stranger,” Denny said as he slid into the booth across from the officer. Their relationship had mellowed considerably since their interrogation at the police station. Denny would hardly call Sticks a friend, but they had some kind of townie rapport, at least. He was hopeful that the officer would hear him out.
“Well, I’d hardly call us strangers at this point,” Sticks said. He extended a hand. “Mr. Plummer. Good to see you, as always.”
“Sticks,” Denny said. He shook firmly.
“I swear, someday I’ll grow out of that nickname,” Sticks said.
“Probably not. Or probably not here,” Denny said.
“Definitely not here,” Sticks agreed. Not in Rowley, hishometown, where his small-league career on the ice had both started and ended. Sticks for life it was.
“I stumbled on some information recently,” he said. “I thought it was only right I pass it on. As a citizen.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Sticks seemed genuinely interested. He leaned back in the booth, a little relaxed, affect temporarily dropped.
“You ever been to Life Time? The health club at the Northshore Mall?” Denny looked at him. Was it his imagination, or had the officer blinked?
“Can’t say that I have. That’s a little spendy for my purposes. When I get hot, I jump in the ocean. When I want to work out, I head over to Hard Nock’s.” He meant, of course, the notorious gym in Amesbury, a haven for townies and muscleheads.
“A one-trick pony, you are,” Denny said.
“Let’s just say that I like what I like, and there’s no reason to change things at my age. I’ve been coming to this diner, for instance, three times a week since I graduated from high school, and why change now? But anyway. Back to Life Time.” Sticks took a sip of coffee.
“My wife was a member,” Denny said. “Well, I guess we had a family membership. Have a family membership. I never went there or anything, though.”
Sticks nodded. He didn’t seem to have any feelings one way or the other about that.
“So. What’s the story with it, then?” he asked, tapping his index finger on the table.
“The story isn’t so much with it as with a person who’s a member over there. I found out about a situation that happened with my wife. It sounds like she was threatened. It sounds like my daughter was threatened,” Denny said.
“How do you say?” Sticks said, squinting a bit, and then picked up his coffee and looked squarely at Denny. “You’re killing me with the suspense here, Plummer.”
“I’ll get to the point,” Denny said. “The summer before my wife ended up in the Ipswich River, she was threatened in public, at Life Time, by someone who is prominent in our community. And my daughter, Louisa, was, from the sounds of it, checked right into the pool.”
“Who’s the mysterious offender?” Sticks said. “Or are you just going to keep me guessing?”
“That’d be Mimi Mar.”
“That be the same Mimi Mar who lives over on Nancy’s Corner?” Sticks asked. “I believe I know her, but she has never had any connection with the Hamilton PD, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
It felt like a strange thing to say—an admission without a crime. Denny stopped for a second. He hadn’t asked about the police department, of course. The officer was protesting a little too much.Tread carefully,he told himself.Friends and enemies wear the same clothing.“The very same Mimi Mar from Nancy’s Corner, yes,” Denny said.
“Mimi Mar, president of the PTO, Mimi Mar?”
“Yes, sir.”
“So you’re saying . . . what, exactly? That she got into some little altercation with your wife at a health club and I’m supposed to look into whether or not she had something to do with your wife’s murder?”
Denny went to say something else, but he felt like a wall had come up between them. The mood in the diner had shifted. Denny, the officer was plainly telling him, had crossed a line, but he couldn’t stop himself.
“There’s more, though. I talked to Diane Maguire,” he said. “If you just . . .”
