Severed Relations Read online

  The curtains upstairs were drawn, as they had been that morning, but no light shined. The downstairs addition where he knew Mr. Barnett's study to be was dark. Still, Finn wasn't satisfied. Something was different. Something…

  Finn looked up at the second floor again and saw what it was. One edge of the curtain in the little girls' room was turned up. Someone had been there and might still be. He hoped it was only one person; he hoped it was only Elizabeth Barnett.

  Finn climbed the six steps to the raised porch outside the kitchen door. Small and plain, it was a humble thing on such a grand house and yet great care had been taken to paint it the color of cornflowers. On the crossbar was gold script that read Beware all ye who enter. This is a happy home.

  It appeared the door had not fully latched, so Finn put a hand out and pushed it open slowly. He hesitated, hanging back the way a man does when he's not sure a woman welcomes his advances but is determined to approach her nonetheless. When all remained quiet, he opened the door further, stepped inside, closed the door behind him and threw the lock as quietly as he could. If there was someone inside who tried to run, that little lock might slow them down long enough for him to control the situation.

  Finn stepped lightly, making barely a sound as he made his way through a kitchen larger than his apartment. A granite covered island stood in the center, white lacquer cabinets lined the yellow walls. There were plants in the window and gadgets for cooking on the countertops. On the small desk counter he saw a calendar neatly printed with reminders of things that would now never happen. He noted that each day gone was marked with a red X, drawn with a ruler and painfully precise.

  Finn had no trouble imagining Elizabeth Barnett in this heart-of-the-house, making cookies with her daughters, laying the table for dinner when her husband would come home tired from work. It was the husband Finn didn't quite see in this place but that was only because he was not liking a man who could let his wife come here alone on this night.

  Sensing there was no situation here, Finn was cautious nonetheless. He moved slowly, trying to imagine the frightening fellow who had come here only hours before. There were so many places to hide and things to take, and yet nothing was taken and no one hid. He had been direct, moving up the stairs, to the nanny's room, killing her cleanly and then…

  Then…

  The children. Why the children when it would have been shamefully easy to pluck them off the street the way Alexander had been plucked? Why the nanny? Why had that person come to here, on that night, at that hour, to do this thing?

  Having no answers, Finn turned out of the kitchen and walked through the dining room. He went through the double doors that Cori had opened to reveal Captain Fowler. Those doors were open as they had been left that morning and the room was empty. In the entry, Finn kept his eye on the staircase and backed toward the front door. He touched the handle. It was locked as it had been locked that afternoon. He looked down the narrow hallway that led to Sam Barnett's study and that room was dark. His eyes rested on the gallery of family pictures that were lined up like good soldiers, each of the same size. When Finn realized he was looking far too long at the one of a smiling Elizabeth Barnett, he turned his eyes away and went upstairs.

  CHAPTER 12

  Elizabeth Barnett had tucked the edge of the curtain behind the window crank. Enough moonlight seeped through that little triangle of exposed glass to bathe both the room and the woman in a wash of soft yellow. It was not enough to see her clearly, but he could make out the shine of her hair, the curve of her shoulder and the length of her fingers resting on the carpet.

  Finn found her sitting on the floor with her back against the bed where her older daughter had died. The mattress was gone, taken to the lab, and only the box spring remained. Finn thought she looked like a saint on the holy cards the good nuns gave out on feast days. He had not been the most pious of fellows in his youth with his hands itching to fist up and his legs wanting to run rather than kneel to take his communion, but he did kneel and raise his eyes to the priest and cross himself. Sister Mary Gertrude rewarded him for his boy-piety by slipping a holy card between his fingers. He always smiled his thanks and she always smiled back thinking that she had managed to touch Finn O'Brien's messy little soul.

  Sister Mary Gertrude didn't know that Finn was only happy because the holy cards were treasure. The minute he and his pals were out the church door, they took to trading. Two Saint Christophers for one Michael the Archangel, armor clad, sword raised, coming down from heaven to do battle against the devil himself. Finn, though, traded Saint Michael for Saint Bridget, the pride of Ireland. It was said that Saint Bridget wished for lakes of ale in heaven. Finn vowed that when he went to his reward he would ask Saint Bridget to go to the lake with him and raise a toast. First, though, had to grow up and do the things men did.

  He had grown up, done the things of men, but Finn was a bit miffed at how hard God was making his way. Sometimes he joked that his parents should have named him Job, which really was not a joke at all. Still there were good times, too. His marriage, his family, his love of songs that made him weep, a pint at Mick's, an Irish Pub that was owned by a black man from Trinidad named Geoffrey Baptiste. But right then, all Finn could think about was Sister Mary Gertrude and a particular holy card slipped between the fingers of his folded hands.

  On the card was the picture of a dark haired martyr pierced through the breast with a dozen arrows. He didn't know the name of the saint in that picture but he remembered that she looked accepting of God's judgment. At the same time, she seemed amazed that He had allowed her to be shot through to the death. Elizabeth Barnett wasn't dead, nor did it seem that she was in God's hands, but Finn thought she looked like that saint.

  "I didn't touch anything," she said, her voice weary.

  "Fine if you did, missus."

  She could have torn the place apart for all he cared now that the house had been vacuumed, fingerprints lifted, bedding bagged and marked. She rolled her head against the box spring, looked up at the ceiling, and then she dropped her chin to her chest.

  "I thought I saw someone here, but there's no one. I looked everywhere. There's no one."

  Finn walked into the room and crouched down beside the woman.

  "Come with me, Mrs. Barnett." He tried to take her hand, but she snatched it away.

  "Don't touch me. I don't want anyone to touch me ever again."

  "As you say." Finn held his hands up. "But I'll be staying until you're ready to go."

  Her lashes fluttered. She cut him a look and raised her chin. "You think I'm crazy, don't you? But I'm not. I did think I saw something here. I had to look."

  Finn's knees ached and the scars that cupped his jaw and ran up his neck felt tight. He should have been down at Mick's by now, shooting darts, being joyous before he had to return to his work in the morning. But he wasn't at Mick's. Nor was he lying in his bed thinking to call his mother and inquire after the church social she was proud to be in charge of. He was here, towing this heavy line of sorrow with Mrs. Barnett. It wasn't going to be done quickly, so he set himself down on the carpet that was stiff with dried blood. Keeping a knee up, he draped one arm over it and rested the palm of his other hand on the floor by his hip.

  "No, I do not think you're crazy," he assured her even though he now knew that Barnett was right. She could not have seen anything in this house from the Coulter's yard. Still, he knew something the husband did not. "I know how a mother's heart breaks when her child is gone. I do know."

  "Did you lose a child? Is that why you said that you had no children?" she asked.

  "A brother. He was very young. Murdered like your children."

  Finn offered nothing more. She did not need to know about Alexander, or the guilt Finn carried, or how his life had gone on slightly tattered just as his mother's and his father's, his brother's and sister's had. Life, though, had gone on and that's what he wanted Elizabeth Barnett to know.

  "Because I understand," he
said, "I want to ease your burden sooner than later. Do you believe that?"

  Her head moved and he took that as agreement.

  "That's fine, then," Finn said. "To do that, I must know everything you know. I must know why you and your husband argued. Perhaps there is something you forgot to tell us. If you've done something to make someone want to harm you, we'll protect you."

  "We don't need protection. We disagree about what's next, that's all. I want to see the person who could do this and he doesn't." Elizabeth Barnett sighed, and pounded her head lightly on the box spring. "I want to know why my children had to die."

  "This was not about your children, missus," Finn assured her. "It might be about nothing. If that's the case we'll find it out, but something like this usually has a reason. I'm thinking this was about Rachel. We need to know something about her or the man she went with. Did she confide in you about her relationships?"

  "Rachel." Elizabeth closed her eyes and went still. "I don't want to talk about Rachel, not when my babies are gone."

  Elizabeth pushed herself off the floor and she seemed another shadow in this shadowy room until she stood near the window. When she did, Finn saw that her face was a mess of dark streaks where her make-up had run, her hair was tangled, and yet her expensive clothes were perfect. Those clothes bothered Finn. He wanted her to take them off because he knew that sackcloth would suit her better.

  "Don't tell me things will look better in a few days," she said. "Don't tell me that God is watching over me or that you won't rest until you find the man who did this. Just find him. After that, I don't care what happens to me. Remember I said that, detective. Put it down in your book."

  "What about your husband, don't you care what happens to him?"

  "My husband? None of this would have happened if it hadn't been for him."

  Finn didn't move. He waited for a revelation, but all he heard was a woman looking to lay blame.

  "Sam thought things would be perfect in this perfect place, with the perfect wife." She laughed sadly. "And who could forget the nanny? The perfect nanny to take care of the perfect children; the perfect housekeeper to take care of everything else. And the perfect husband. Everyone said how lucky I was. Well, let me tell you, my life wasn't perfect then and it sure isn't perfect now, is it?"

  With that, Elizabeth Barnett was done. She now knew what her husband had known all along; there was no one here for her. Finn got to his feet, trying to imagine what Sister Mary Gertrude would say at a time like this, what blessing she would have, but nothing came to mind. He followed her down the stairs and through the silent house without a word to God. He stayed two paces behind as they retraced their steps across the yard, triggering the motion sensors that switched on the bright lights.

  That was when he saw Sam Barnett waiting by the big tree and Cori behind him. Cori caught Finn's eye. He shook his head slightly to tell her that he was coming back empty handed; her shrug indicated that she hadn't fared much better.

  Sam Barnett took a step and reached for Elizabeth's hand. She shrank from him but he took it anyway and pulled himself into her, whispering urgently, holding her tight. Elizabeth shook her head once and then again.

  "Stop it, Sam."

  Elizabeth Barnett wrenched herself away from her husband and walked off, into the dark between the fence and the garage. When Sam Barnett made a move to follow his wife, Cori stepped in front of him and Finn closed ranks.

  "What are you doing? I need to go with my wife." Sam's head swung between the two of them until Finn moved around and stood shoulder to shoulder with his partner.

  "What did you say to your wife, Mr. Barnett?" Finn demanded.

  "Just let me talk to her again. Let me–"

  "Are you asking her to cover for you? Is that it?" Cori asked. "Are you the one we should be putting eyes on?"

  "How dare you speak to me like that?"

  "You've been arguing about something bad enough that you scared the Coulters into calling us." Finn moved a step closer. "You're still arguing about it. Now, what did you say to your wife?"

  Sam Barnett's expression changed and Finn saw the lawyer weighing his words, considering his options. When he spoke there were no more tears and his voice was sure.

  "It's someone my wife knows. When I found out she didn't tell you about him, I lost it."

  "Her lover?" Finn asked.

  "Her patient."

  CHAPTER 13

  DAY 1 – NIGHT

  Finn and Cori left the Coulter house slightly better than they had found it. The Barnetts were settled, Mercedes Coulter had retired, and Charlie Coulter saw them out. Cori spoke first as they walked to the car.

  "Do you believe him?"

  "I don't know."

  Finn opened his door and took the wheel; Cori did the same and rode shotgun. The doors slammed simultaneously. When they were settled, Finn called to assure Fowler all was well. He didn't tell the captain that his assessment of the situation was based purely on the fact that everyone was alive.

  "So what part of his story is twitchin' your antennae?" Cori offered him a piece of gum. Finn shook his head as he draped his arms over the steering wheel and stared straight on. He said:

  "I believe right enough that he's scared."

  "Now there's a revelation." Cori's drawl came on a cloud of spearmint. She unspooled the seat belt. He heard it click and he heard her swear. "Damn these things. Must be some flat-chested chick that designed them. They always feel like they're cutting my boobs in half."

  Finn slid his eyes her way. Indeed, there seemed to be no graceful way to harness her in. He chuckled.

  "And a shame that would be, Cori."

  "You're a gentleman, you know that, O'Brien. Most guys would offer to help settle the girls." She pulled the belt out a little further. "I hope Bev knows what a good things she's got."

  Finn took that to be a statement. He no more wanted to talk about his wife than he wanted to discuss Cori's assets. Besides it wasn't a woman on his mind, it was Sam Barnett.

  "That man thinks too hard about what he's going to say, Cori. Wasn't that bit of mutton the first thing he should have put on our plate this morning?"

  "He didn't know his own name this morning." Cori wiggled under the seat belt and finally settled on angling the strap high on the left. She said: "On top of that, he's a lawyer and lawyers weigh every damn word they say. We're cops. We'd probably give chapter and verse and write the report ourselves if something like this happened to us. That's what we're trained to do."

  Finn took hold of his belt and strapped in. He put the key in the ignition. Cori kept her eyes on him.

  "What's the matter with you? Why are you ragging on him?" she asked.

  "He might as well be crowning his wife with the north star with that confession. I think he doesn't want us looking at him, and he's willing to throw her under the bus to make sure we don't."

  "She didn't tell us about this guy either," Cori reminded him. "And the way she cold-shouldered her husband? What was that all about? If we're talking intuition, mine says there's something going on with the wife."

  "There's something between them, I can't deny it. But he's the one with the power. He took everything that belonged to her and divided it up between the nanny and the housekeeper. That clinic is the last thing that's hers and she's protecting it. That's why she kept silent." Finn started the car, but Cori wasn't buying it.

  "Boo-hoo, poor her being all pampered," she whimpered.

  "Cori," Finn warned.

  "Don't Cori me," she shot back. "I'm illustrating a point here. The woman has free will. Barnett didn't tie her down and make her take the nanny and the housekeeper. Are you going to argue spousal abuse by virtue of generosity? Give me a friggin' break."

  "Point taken," he said, but it was with reluctance.

  "Thank you," Cori grumbled and then got back on track. "So either there's nothing to it, she's protecting the guy at the clinic, or Barnett is a jealous husband. Let's prove one and get it
over with."

  Finn released the emergency brake but before he could drive away, Cori added two more of her cents.

  "And you know, what? Maybe you're figuring him for the bad guy because all those lawyers screwed you over. Just sayin' that could be the case; you painting with a broad stroke and all. Think about it my friend."

  "Don't be a chancer, Cori," Finn mumbled.

  "That better be Irish for brilliant broad, O'Brien."

  In answer Finn stepped on the gas, pulling away from the curb so fast he gave that seatbelt of hers a stress test. It wasn't unheard of for Finn to wish all lawyers a special place in hell, but he was still a good cop. He would give Sam Barnett the benefit of the doubt for a while. Cori stopped him thinking when she said:

  "There is one thing we know."

  "And that would be?"

  "We know the clinic is a good place to start," Cori said. "And we also know there's not much we can do about it tonight. Drop me at my car, it's been a long day and we both should get home. We'll reconnoiter bright and early."

  "I'll have a game plan before you wake," Finn promised.

  "Don't bust your balls getting out of the gate. You've got a lot riding on this," Cori said as he pulled along side her car at the station. She patted his hand. "It's good to be working with you again. And don't worry, tomorrow will come soon enough."

  Finn gave her a smile as she got out of his car and into her own. He watched until she drove away and then turned the car around and headed out. Cori was right about tomorrow.

  Then again, there was still tonight.

  CHAPTER 14

  "Mom! Mom! Mo–"

  Amber Anderson hollered for her mother the minute Cori opened the front door. Slim hipped, golden haired, not bright enough for college, and wild enough to get herself knocked up at sixteen, Amber broke into a huge grin as soon as she saw her mother.