Missing Pieces(48)
Several of those interviewed, people with names that Sarah didn’t recognize, reported that Lydia and Jack fought over Jack’s many teenage shenanigans. How he skipped school, how he was drinking and smoking with older kids like his cousin, Dean, the public arguments with his mother and father. The numerous occasions he had run away from home for days at a time. Still, none of this spelled out murderer.
The Jack described in the tapes was so different than the one she knew. While Jack retreated into himself now and again, he never ran away like he did when he was a teen and like his father ultimately did. He wasn’t a big drinker and certainly didn’t smoke. She had difficulty reconciling that they could be the same person, but there it was, right in the tapes. It was clear from Gilmore’s questions that Jack was the main suspect, at least initially.
It wasn’t until the later interviews dated a few days after the murder that it was clear that John Tierney was missing.
No one interviewed could imagine to where John Tierney would have run away to. His whole universe was Penny Gate. His grandparents were born here, his father was born here, he was born here, his children were born here. There was nowhere and nothing else that he could possibly have run to.
After the final interview, Sarah hit the stop button and slowly pulled off the headphones and laid her forehead against the steering wheel.
A persistent little thought tried to wheedle its way into her brain. What if he did it? the voice asked. What if Jack killed his mother? Then what happened to his father? Sarah countered. Could she really have misjudged Jack for so long? Had she been fooled by his quiet reserve, mistaking it for shyness and sensitivity while really it was cold-blooded indifference? Had she all along been married to a monster?
12
SARAH ARRIVED AT DELIA’S, just two doors down from the Penny Café, twenty minutes before Margaret was due to arrive. It was a typical small-town bar. Dim and dated with walls filled with pictures of locals posing with a dark-haired woman whom Sarah assumed was Delia.
Five men and a woman lined the bar, deep in debate over the baseball game that was on the TV above the bar. As she passed by the crowd, the hum of chatter quieted. Three old men, dressed in coveralls and seed hats, hunched over their plates, watched her covertly out of the corners of their eyes as they chewed. She wondered if they knew who she was, and if they had heard about what happened to Julia.
The woman behind the bar had hair dyed an unnatural black with a purple sheen and large brown doe eyes. She looked eerily similar to the woman in the photos and Sarah wondered if she could be Delia’s daughter. “Dinner?” she asked, and Sarah nodded.
“There will be two of us,” Sarah said as the waitress led her to the dining room. “Could we have a corner booth?”
“Of course. Are you new to the area?” the waitress asked. “You don’t look familiar to me.”
“No, I’m visiting family.”
“Who’s that?” the waitress asked.
“The Quinlans. I’m married to Jack.”
“Oh, I remember Jack. I’m Clarice Jantzen,” the woman said with a kind smile. “Sheriff Gilmore is my dad. I heard about Julia. I’m so sorry. She was the sweetest lady.”
“Thank you,” Sarah murmured as she sat, accepting the menu that Clarice offered.
“How’s the family doing?” Clarice asked. “I bet Amy’s just devastated.” Sarah couldn’t tell if the woman was prying for gossip or simply making conversation. Sarah nodded tentatively, not comfortable sharing information with this stranger. “What can I bring you to drink?” she asked, taking the hint.
“An iced tea, please,” Sarah said as her cell phone vibrated, displaying a number she wasn’t familiar with. “Excuse me,” she said to Clarice. “But I need to take this.” Once Clarice moved out of earshot Sarah answered.
“Mrs. Quinlan?” a young male voice asked.
“Yes?” Sarah responded.
“This is Arthur Newberry. You left me a message regarding representation of your sister-in-law?”
“Yes,” Sarah said, taken off guard. The voice on the other end of the line sounded much too young for someone who had attended law school. “Do you think you would be able to help?”
“Yes, of course. I can start right away,” he said, barely able to contain his excitement. Sarah wanted to ask him how old he was, but figured that she was fortunate that he had called her back.
Arthur said he would head right over to the sheriff’s department. “I’ll call you after I talk with Amy. You and I can meet to discuss her case.”
From across the room Sarah caught sight of Margaret entering the pub. She thanked Arthur and disconnected.
Sarah stood when Margaret arrived at the table and Clarice approached, her forehead furrowing in confusion. “Hi, Clarice,” Margaret said. “I’ll have a Bloody Mary. Oh, don’t look at me like that, Clarice. I’m not working tonight.”
Once Clarice was out of earshot, Sarah leaned forward and whispered, “Did you know that’s Gilmore’s daughter? Do you really think it’s a good idea to be meeting here?”
Margaret waved her red-tipped fingers dismissively. “Of course I know that. I went to high school with Clarice’s older sister. I work with her father. We’re fine.” She picked up her menu.