Three Little Words

Until Connor’s involvement.

Connor Reed was a very successful true-crime writer. The Alouette library had a couple of his books, including his blockbuster bestseller, Blood Kin. Even though she hadn’t read any of them—being partial to cozy mysteries over the stark and often bloody reality of nonfiction—she was surprised she hadn’t immediately recognized his name. Maybe making up her own stories about him had distracted her. Little had she known that by comparison with the truth, her imaginings were harmless.

About a year and a half ago, at the peak of the original trial, Connor had signed a ballyhooed, big-bucks contract with Scepter Publishing to write a book about Roderick Strange. According to the news reports, during the months after the man’s guilty verdict Connor had uncovered vital evidence and given it over to the courts, which ultimately led to Strange’s conviction being overturned. People had been in an uproar. There were protests, public debates, hate mail and death threats. Connor was roasted over the coals by many, defended by only a spare few.

Though he’d been invited to all the talk shows, he’d spurned the attention and made little public comment. Even that had been turned against him by those who said he was only looking to cash in by saving the inside story for his impending book.

So far, there was no book. Tess had perused the Scepter Publishing Web site, but found no firm publishing date for a work by Connor Reed. Which didn’t mean he hadn’t already written the manuscript….

She wrinkled her nose, slowing at the intersection where the country road crossed with the highway. The idea of such a book was distasteful. In good conscience, she couldn’t argue too strenuously against Connor’s turning over the evidence he’d found, as terrible as the result had been. She had more trouble with the idea of him profiting from the tragedy.

Perhaps he did, too?

The light turned green. She tapped on the gas and drove through the intersection. Then what about his other books? Those cases had also involved ugly crime, real people and grieving families.

On the other hand, who was she to be judgmental?

Tess skirted the town, finding Three Pines easily enough, as she’d visited before, delivering books to a longtime library patron who’d been in residence the previous winter. The nursing home was a horizontal structure, formed from a central hub with four wings that spoked out in a crooked H formation. She spotted Connor in the parking lot outside of Wing D, leaning against the bumper of a dusty Jeep.

Her heart gave a little jump as she pulled in beside him.

It was early evening yet, but the sun had lowered far enough to send slanting rays through the tall Norway pines that surrounded the facility. Sharp-edged shadows stretched across the paved lot, casting his brooding face in an appropriately murky light.

Tess got out of her car. “Hi!”

Connor nodded. “Thanks for coming.”

“Beautiful evening,” she said, compelled to combat her doubt with chirpiness. “You’re looking well.”

“I slept for a couple of hours.”

“And shaved.”

He touched his chin. “Just for you.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” She maintained a cheery smile while attempting an unobtrusive evaluation. He’d changed, too, into a fresh white T-shirt and belted khakis. But he still looked sad and withdrawn.

Her heart went out to him, even though her head kept asking questions. Was Connor Reed heartless? Greedy? Or merely an average guy stuck in a bad situation?

“So you found the place okay,” he said.

“Yesiree. I’ve been here before.”

He gave her a skeptical look. “You’re Mary Sunshine.”

“Is that wrong?”

“Just weird.”

She cocked her head. “How so?”

He shrugged. “I guess it’s the Midwestern in you.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“No, not bad. Not bad at all. Just makes me think I’ve been hanging out with the wrong people.” He reached to take her arm. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

Without thinking, she withdrew, crossing her arms over her front.

Connor stopped. Looked at her for a long minute, his face darkening. Finally he shook his head.

“Suit yourself,” he said shortly, and walked toward the paths that bordered the different wings in wide gray outlines. He took the one that led to Wing D, not even looking back to see if she’d followed as he made a sharp turn and was swallowed by the shadows beneath the wide eaves of the entrance.

Tess hesitated for another moment before hurrying after him. “Look,” she said, trotting to catch up to his long strides. “I’m not—I didn’t—”

He’d stopped at the door next to an outdoor aluminum ashtray overflowing with butts. “You know who I am,” he said without looking at her.

She let out a soft sigh. “Yes.”

“You can leave right now if you don’t want to be associated with me. I understand.”

“I wouldn’t do that!”

He threw a glance over his shoulder. “How come? I’m generally acknowledged to be a pretty despicable guy.”

She moved a little closer. “Maybe general knowledge isn’t what it’s cracked up to be?”

“Are you asking me a question?”

“I might be.”

“Well, now’s not the time.” He opened the door and stood aside to allow her through. “Your choice.”

She marched inside. She’d made a promise, after all.

They entered into a small reception area. An attempt had been made to improve on the sterile concrete-block look of the facility, with hunter-green paint, a couch, buffalo-plaid curtains and accessories that included duck decoys and wildlife prints. A predictable decor, but better than austerity.

A long hallway ran down the middle of the wing, with residents’ rooms on either side. There was an unstaffed reception desk near the lounge, and an empty wheelchair and a gurney parked outside one of the rooms. The place seemed deserted, except for a uniformed attendant turning a corner at the other end of the hall.

“This way,” Connor said. “Sonny’s three doors down on the left.”

An old woman with a walker poked her head into the hallway as they passed, looking both curious and eager for visitors. Tess would have stopped to chit-chat, but Connor was already disappearing into his grandfather’s room. She smiled at the woman and said hello before hurrying to catch up again.

She arrived in time to see Connor giving his grandfather a careful hug. “So you came back, eh?” the old man said.

“Told you I would. And I brought a visitor.”

A gnarled hand waved dismissal. “Bah. Visitors.”