Missing Pieces(37)
Another thought crept into her head and she tried to push it away, but still it nagged at her. What about Jack’s dad? Jack had mentioned that he thought he saw his father at the hospital. Was it a trick of light or an overwrought imagination? Or did he really see him? Was it so far-fetched to believe that a man who could kill his wife could come back and kill his sister? Yes, Sarah scolded herself, it is far-fetched.
Sarah looked up and found the sheriff observing her curiously. “Was there something else?” he asked.
Sarah bit her lip, not sure if she should bring up the subject, but decided she might not get another chance. “I know that Jack’s mother was murdered. I also know that Jack’s father was the prime suspect. What I don’t know is whatever happened to him.”
The sheriff tightened his grip on the pen he held in his hand, his gaze on her intensified. “You’ve talked to your husband about this?”
“He’s told me the basics. The rest Hal and Celia filled in for me. I also found some articles online.”
“Ahh.” He tapped his fingertips together. “Then I don’t quite understand what you need from me.”
“I just want to know if he’s dead,” Sarah said more loudly than she intended. She glanced toward the door and lowered her voice. “From the article I read...”
“On the internet...” Gilmore interrupted.
“It said that John Tierney was missing. I just want to know if he was ever caught or arrested or if he’s dead.”
“And the internet didn’t give you the answer?”
Sarah shook her head. “I didn’t get that far.”
Gilmore sighed heavily and rubbed his neck. “Well, since it’s a matter of public record, I guess there’s no reason that I can’t tell you. I have no idea whether John Tierney is alive or dead. Every few years or so, someone calls in a sighting, but it never amounts to anything. You want my best guess? I think he’s probably dead and buried somewhere by now.”
“What about the rest of the case file? For all intents and purposes, it’s a closed case. Am I able to take a look at it?”
“Mrs. Quinlan, I must say, I’m a little confused here. I ask you to come in to answer some questions about the death of your husband’s aunt and all of a sudden we’re having a conversation about the murder of his mother. Why in the world would you want to look at the case file?” Gilmore asked, tilting his head as if seeing her in a new light.
Sarah knew she sounded a bit crazy. The sheriff was right—what kind of person would want to leaf through the details of a crime of the mother-in-law they’d never even met? “I just want some answers,” Sarah said, knowing that this wasn’t a convincing argument in her favor.
“I’m afraid I can’t help you there,” Gilmore said, moving toward the door. “Murder cases are never truly closed. And since John Tierney has never been charged and convicted, technically it’s still open. Come on, I’ll walk you back to the lobby.”
“What about the Freedom of Information Act? Don’t I have the right to review the case files?”
Gilmore’s earlier patience was quickly being replaced by irritation. “True, but that requires a lot of forms to fill out. Then the paperwork has to be processed. By the time that happens you’ll be long gone. Plus, the case isn’t officially closed, just suspended. You wouldn’t have access to all the evidence.”
“I’m persistent,” Sarah pressed.
“Let me give you a little advice, Mrs. Quinlan.” Gilmore set her with a solid gaze, and it was all Sarah could do to look right back at him. “Maybe there’s a reason Jack doesn’t want you to know what happened to Lydia Tierney. Some things are better left dead and buried. Maybe this is one of them.”
“You know,” Sarah said firmly, “I’m not some ghoul who’s interested in the gory details of a thirty-year-old murder. I just want to help my husband.” This wasn’t exactly true. At this point, Sarah was more interested in uncovering the truth as to why Jack had been lying to her, but she couldn’t exactly tell the sheriff this.
Gilmore regarded her intensely, and Sarah could tell he was debating whether or not to speak further on the matter. Silence filled the room, but Sarah refused to relent. She kept her gaze fixed on him, a trick she’d learned from interviewing subjects during her days as a journalist. Finally, Gilmore spoke.
“John Tierney was the main suspect in the death of his wife, but he disappeared before we could interview him. The sheriff at the time believed that there was enough evidence to close the case. To answer your question, is John Tierney alive or dead? I really can’t say, but has he shown his face around here since?” Gilmore folded his arms across his chest. “No way. And the answer is still no. You can’t look at the case file. Could you send Dean on back?”
Sarah stood to follow Gilmore and her purse caught the edge of his desk, causing the contents of her purse to scatter and the file folder on the sheriff’s desk to flutter to the floor. “Dammit,” she muttered, and bent down to gather up the items.
Her eyes landed on the piece of paper that slid from the file folder labeled Julia Quinlan—Toxicology. Three words jumped out at her: sodium fluoroacetate: positive.
Gilmore bent over and quickly picked up the file folder and piece of paper, returned them to his desk and leaned over to help Sarah.