Misery Bay: An Alex McKnight Novel Read online

“But until she does that,” I said, “we have no idea exactly what happened, right?”

  “What are you getting at?” He opened his eyes. “Are you suggesting she might have really tried to kill herself?”

  “No, Chief.”

  “Because if that’s what you’re saying—”

  “All I’m saying is that we don’t have any idea who to look for. That’s all I meant.”

  “Whoever it is,” he said, “he must be rattled now. After making a mistake like that…”

  “What are you thinking? This has to be somebody who was close to Wiley, right?”

  “Probably. The film was in his basement. Which reminds me…”

  “What?”

  “Two agents were just here a minute ago,” Maven said. “Not Long and Fleury, two other guys from Detroit. They went out to Bad Axe as soon as they found out about this. You know what they found?”

  “What?”

  “Somebody broke into that house on the lake. The feds had it all locked up tight, because they were still processing stuff. But sometime between yesterday evening and this morning, somebody got in, went down to the basement, and turned the whole place inside out.”

  “Looking for the film,” I said. “Gotta be, right?”

  “You would think. But whoever it was, he didn’t find it.”

  “So what about Connie and Sean? Did the agents talk to them?”

  “Naturally. Neither of them was alone last night. They both seem to have airtight alibis.”

  “They seem to?”

  “Yeah, and neither of them has any idea who could have broken into the house. Of course, I’m getting all of this secondhand.”

  “We’ve been down this road before,” I said.

  “Last time around, secondhand wasn’t good enough for you, you mean. So you ran off to see for yourself.”

  “Pretty stupid thing to do. As usual.”

  He nodded slowly. “The kind of thing I’m always yelling at you for.”

  “You stay here with your daughter,” I said. “I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

  * * *

  Bad Axe was about two hours away from Lansing. I took the expressway due east through Flint, but then I had to cut north on a smaller two-lane highway, all the way north into the thumb. So the last hour was hard driving.

  When I finally hit Bad Axe, I knew exactly where to go. I parked in the lot next to the theater and went across the street. I pressed on the buzzer next to the Grindstone Productions plate, but nobody answered. I pressed again and took a peek through the window. It was dark inside. I rapped on the window a few times, then I turned and left. I went across to the theater and tried the door. It was locked. Not a big surprise. It wasn’t even noon yet. I knocked on the door, but nobody answered.

  Okay, think, I said to myself as I walked back to the truck. Where do I try next?

  I played back my last trip down here and realized I knew exactly where Sean lived, at least. I had followed him home to his apartment that first night. It wasn’t far from the theater, just a few blocks away from that motel I stayed in. I pulled out and retraced the route.

  When I got to his building, I didn’t see his green Corvette anywhere. Another swing and a miss, I thought. Not a good start. I got out and went to the front door, gave it a quick knock just for the hell of it. I was surprised when the door opened. A young woman stood there looking out at me. She looked vaguely familiar.

  “Is Sean here?”

  She shook her head. She was clearly upset about something.

  “My name’s Alex,” I said. “Are you okay?”

  She shook her head again.

  “Can I come in and talk to you? It’ll only take a minute, I promise.”

  She backed away from the door. She still hadn’t said a word.

  “Where have I seen you before?” I said. Then it came to me. “Wait a minute, you were the girl in the sandwich shop. Behind the counter, that first day I came in. I didn’t realize you and Sean were…” I wasn’t quite sure which word to pick, but it didn’t seem to matter. She was looking down at the floor now and was obviously not listening to me at all.

  “You weren’t there in the shop the next day,” I said, “when I sat down with Sean.”

  I leaned in closer to get her attention.

  “We had a long talk,” I said, “Sean and I. Did he say anything about it to you?”

  “Yes,” she said, finally finding her voice. “He told me a private investigator talked to him.”

  “Okay. Good. So tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I … can’t.”

  I took a step inside. She didn’t stop me.

  “Please talk to me,” I said. “Maybe I can help.”

  She turned away from me and went to the center of the room. She had her arms folded around herself. As I followed her, I saw all the movie posters decorating their living room. Casablanca, The Maltese Falcon, Chinatown, and right there in the middle of it all, that same Road Hogs poster I had seen in Wiley’s lake house.

  Then I saw something else. On the bookshelf, occupying an obvious place of honor. An old movie camera.

  I went up close to it and looked at it carefully without touching it. The body of the camera had a textured black surface, and the dials and buttons and lens were all gleaming silver. It was like a work of art.

  “That’s his Bolex,” the young woman said.

  “He got it from his grandfather, right? I remember what he told me when we were sitting in the sandwich shop. If you’re a Wiley kid, the old man gives you a camera as soon as you’re old enough to hold one.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Let me ask you something. Does he ever let anybody else use it?”

  “What, that camera? No way. He won’t even let me touch it.”

  I turned to face her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

  “Delaney.”

  “Delaney, that’s a nice name. So tell me … I understand the FBI was here this morning?”

  She looked at the floor again.

  “You’ve got to talk to me,” I said. “Where’s Sean right now, anyway?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Come on, sit down.”

  As gently as I could, I guided her into one of the chairs. I got down on one knee, right in front of her. I didn’t want to push her too hard, but at the same time I needed her to tell me what the hell was going on.

  “You know I was trying to help Sean…”

  She nodded.

  “So let me help out again. Where’s Sean?”

  “He left.” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand.

  “Where did he go?”

  “I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me.”

  “When did he leave?”

  “Right after he talked to the agents.”

  “Did you hear their conversation?”

  “Only part of it. One of them took me aside and talked to me in the other room. They just wanted me to tell them where Sean was all last night and this morning.”

  “I understand. And he was with you the whole time?”

  “Yes, he was. I swear.”

  “Okay, I got it,” I said. “So what happened next?”

  “I just heard the end of what they were saying, but it sounds like they were asking him if he knew anybody who might have broken into his grandfather’s lake house. Sean was saying, ‘No, sorry, I can’t help you, I really don’t know.’ So they left.”

  “Then when did Sean leave? Right after that?”

  “No, first he pulled out his cell phone, because I guess somebody had been calling him the whole time he was talking to the agents. He thought it was his father, but then when he looked at his phone, he was like, ‘Who the hell is this?’ He called the number back and that’s when he ended up going outside.”

  “You didn’t hear any of it?”

  “Not really, but he was like, ‘Hey, what’s going on? What? What are you talking about?’ And he got a real weird look on
his face. He looked over at me and then that’s when he went outside. I could see him pacing all over the place, walking up and down until he finally went and sat inside his car. He was really upset about something, I could see that from the window.”

  “You didn’t get a name? Like did he say, ‘Hey, so-and-so,’ or anything like that?”

  “No, I can’t remember anything like that. But when he came back inside, he was still talking. It was like he was trying to end the call, but whoever was on the line wouldn’t let him go, and Sean was just like, ‘Okay, okay. Just go there and I’ll meet you there. Yeah, you told me how to get there, I got it. Yeah, yeah, I’ll bring it, I’ll bring it. Don’t worry. Just go there and don’t do anything else.’”

  “What was ‘it’? What was he going to bring to this person?”

  “He didn’t tell me that. He just said he had to go see somebody right away. And that I should stay here and not talk to anybody about it. He promised me he’d call me as soon as he could.”

  “That’s it? That’s all he said?”

  “That’s all, I swear. He said he’d call me by the end of the day. He promised.”

  “Delaney, think hard. Do you have any idea where he might have gone? Who he needed to meet with?”

  “No, I really don’t.”

  I leaned back and let out a long breath.

  “Did something happen to a woman in Lansing?” she said. “That’s what the agents said. Did somebody try to kill her?”

  “Yes, it looks that way.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “It’s too early to tell. But she’s got a fighting chance.”

  “Oh, God,” she said, looking away again. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  I got up off the floor, feeling a sharp pain in my knees.

  “Do you think you can find him?” she said. “I’m really worried. Before he left, he was just so … I don’t know. I’ve never seen him like this before.”

  I reached out and took her hand. “I’ll do everything I can,” I said. “Thank you for talking to me.”

  She wiped her nose with her free hand again and nodded.

  “His father,” I said. “Do you know where he is right now?”

  “No. I have no idea.”

  “He wasn’t at the studio. Do you have his home address?”

  “He lives with CC, I think. I mean, he was when CC was still alive. In that big house on Irwin Street.”

  “I know where it is. I’m going to go there right now.”

  “When you find Sean,” she said, “have him call me right away, okay?”

  “I will. I promise.”

  “That’s two promises I have now,” she said. “One from him and one from you. So how come I get the feeling something horrible’s going to happen today?”

  “You can’t think that way,” I said. Yet even as I said it I knew I was sharing that exact same feeling. I thanked her again and I left her there. Then I headed out to find Conrad Wiley.

  * * *

  I drove up to the northern edge of town, to that big half-restored Victorian on Irwin Street. I parked in the driveway, got out, and knocked on the door. No answer. I was right back to my string of bad luck.

  I got back in the truck and drove down to the center of town. I tried the Grindstone building again, but there was still nobody inside. I slammed my open hand on the door and said a few choice words. Then I went across the street for one more try at the theater. This time, finally, the door was unlocked. I pushed it open and saw a woman at the concession stand, going through a cash drawer.

  “Movies don’t start until four o’clock,” she said.

  “I’m looking for Connie Wiley.”

  “He’s not here.”

  “Do you have any idea where he is?”

  “He was across the street this morning, talking to some men in suits. It looked pretty heavy. If he’s not there now, I think he was gonna go out scouting today.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know what that means.”

  “Scouting locations for the new ending to his movie. I bet that’s where he is now.”

  “You mean the movie he was making about his father? He’s still working on it?”

  “With the new ending, yeah. Kind of a different deal now, huh? I still can’t believe it.”

  “So where exactly would he be?” I said.

  “Well, he was going to film in the lake house eventually, but he can’t get in there yet. Personally, I think that’s a little morbid. You know what happened up there…”

  “Yeah, I believe so.”

  “So if he’s not there, I think he was gonna set up some of the outdoor scenes first. You know where Port Crescent State Park is? It’s just about a mile down the road from the house. Take the left instead of the right and you can’t miss it.”

  “Okay,” I said, “I really appreciate it.”

  “Are you with the other film company? The one that’s putting up all the new money?”

  “No, I’m not. What, you’re saying they’re not only still making the movie, they’re making it even bigger?”

  “Biggest thing that ever happened to Bad Axe,” she said. “Can you even imagine?”

  I just shook my head at that one and got out of there.

  * * *

  It was strange to be driving up that same road again. I took the left instead of the right, like the woman had said, and headed west along the Lake Huron coast. It didn’t take long to get to the park. It was mostly empty at this time of year, just a few cars in the parking lot and one unmarked van. Beyond that, just spring mud and dead grass, bare trees, and the cold water of Lake Huron in the distance. I parked and walked toward the water, passing empty picnic tables. I didn’t see anybody at first. Then I finally spotted a small group of people to my left. They were all congregated down by a small clearing on the edge of the water.

  As I made my way closer, I saw that Connie was among them. There were three other people, two men and a woman, all of them young. They were all looking up into the trees while Connie took a camera off its tripod. A modern camera, surely digital instead of film, nothing like the old Bolex camera I had just seen at his son’s apartment. None of them heard me approaching on the wet ground.

  I was ten feet away from them when I saw the rope hanging from the tree branch. That stopped me dead in my tracks. I stood there looking at the rope and the way the trees framed the view of the lake and it all hit me at once. The way this part of the land jutted out into the lake, we were even facing west. With the clearing and trees and everything else, it was as perfect a place as you could find to reenact the hanging, without actually driving all the way to Misery Bay.

  Connie finally turned and saw me. “Oh great,” he said. “I should have known. If the FBI comes around, that means you’ll show up, too.”

  “Are you really doing what I think you’re doing?”

  “I’m finishing the movie, pal. I’m telling the story, no matter where it goes.”

  “No matter where it goes? Are you kidding me? Seven people were murdered.”

  “I know that. Don’t you think I know that? I have to live with it every day.”

  “So why not turn lemons into lemonade, right?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I assume the agents told you what happened last night.”

  “Yes, they did. They talked to the woman I was with all night, too. So they know it couldn’t have been me.”

  “I need a minute alone with you,” I said. “Tell your crew they’ll have to wait to film your sickening little scene here.”

  “We’re not filming, genius. There’ll be thirty people here when we do that. Have you ever seen a movie being made before?”

  I stepped closer to him. “Tell them to leave us alone for a while.”

  He didn’t even blink. “Take five, guys,” he said.

  The three kids all looked at each other, probably wondering where the hell they were supposed to go take their five. We wer
e standing on the edge of a lake, after all.

  “Go to the van,” Connie said. “I’ll let you know when we can get back to work here.”

  I waited for the kids to leave. “This is sickening,” I said, nodding to the rope.

  “I’m sorry if you disapprove. But it’s not your family’s story and it’s not any of your business to begin with.”

  “Whatever, I don’t care. I came to tell you something important about your son.”

  “He had nothing to do with this,” he said. “And neither did I. We’re both in the clear, and you know what? Think about it. Some other police officer’s daughter takes a handful of pills? Are they gonna come back here every time somebody tries to kill themselves?”

  “She didn’t try to kill herself, you idiot.”

  He took one step closer to me. “How do you know? Did you talk to her personally? People do commit suicide, you know. I’m sorry if she did, but that’s life. And that’s all I have to say to you. You’re not even a cop, remember?”

  “You’re right, I’m not. So guess what, I can go ahead and beat the hell out of you right here.”

  “How do you figure on doing that?”

  “You’re making this real easy,” I said, taking my coat off. “I’ve been waiting a while for this, believe me.”

  He turned away from me, shaking his head. He put the camera down on the ground, carefully. Then he grabbed the tripod and collapsed it into a long rod.

  “I’ve been waiting, too,” he said, holding the tripod out in front of him like some kind of samurai sword.

  “Put that down,” I said. “You’re gonna break it.”

  “I’m gonna break something all right.”

  He took a swing at me as I backed away. He took another swing. This one was hard enough to make a loud whoosh as it passed a few inches from my face.

  “This isn’t a fair fight,” I said, taking another step backward. “Give me my own stick and we’ll have something.”

  He was done talking for a while. He took another swing and I had to step back to avoid a tree. As long as he was taking big swings, I thought I’d probably be able to time my move, but now he was lining me up with one jab after another.

  I tried to give him a head fake. He jabbed and just missed. Another fake and he caught me right in my bad shoulder. He smiled as he saw me wince in pain.