As he pulled up near the house everyone called "Cross Creek" - in his own car, not a police car - Frank was amused to see another vehicle arriving as well. He got out, waited for its driver, and said cheerfully, "You were asked to come in an 'unmarked car,' too?"
Vanessa Chamberlain Lewis grinned. "Yes. Reva's neighbors aren't too close, and they aren't the nosy type, anyway - but why invite people to poke around and ask questions? Even if someone's looking, you and I are close enough friends that we could just be dropping by. Not here in our...official capacities."
Frank as Chief of Police, Vanessa as owner and general manager of WSPR-TV.
"I see you have your trusty camcorder," he observed.
She nodded. "But after I air the basic scoop - Jeffrey's being alive - I'll be back with a camera crew, to film a long, exclusive interview. We just have to work out when we'll go public with all this. For example, whether Jeffrey and Reva need more time alone together, to adjust, before hordes of other media descend on them. And he'll have to decide how much he should tell the world in that interview."
"You knew he was alive yesterday," Frank said, mock-accusingly.
"Yes," she admitted. "I'm sorry we couldn't let you in the loop. But believe me, the only people who knew were Reva and Josh - of course - Reva's sons, Marina, Billy, and me. And, well - Olivia, Natalia, and Ava! Jeffrey's daughter had to be told right away.
"But when someone as well-known as he was turns up alive after being thought dead for more than a year...this is going to be huge, Frank! We couldn't risk letting anyone overhear things that would get rumors circulating at the wedding reception. Partly to protect Jeffrey and Reva - if, like I said, they might need more time. But also, they didn't want to take the focus off the bride and groom. Yesterday was their day."
Frank nodded agreeably. She probably knows a lot more than I do...
Jeffrey had only taken time to tell him the essentials over the phone. He'd been right in believing that body found in the river wasn't Edmund's! Dinah hadn't lied about Bosnia. And he hadn't faked his own death; but once he was wrongly believed dead, there'd been a compelling reason why he couldn't surface till now. Jonathan had known he was alive, but had been sworn to secrecy, and they'd lost contact months ago. Reva had initially agreed to go away with Josh, and their meeting on the road had been sheer coincidence (or fate, or a blessing from God). Jeffrey and Reva were together now, and Josh had been wonderful about it, understanding and considerate.
And oh, by the way...Edmund was "no longer a threat."
But he might learn more, he realized, even before he got inside the house. As he and Vanessa went up the walk, a jeans-clad Reva emerged and positioned herself outside the door, arms folded.
Why does she make me think of a mama bear protecting her cub?
"Hi," she said quickly. "Glad I spotted you, while Jeffrey's busy changing the baby."
Frank couldn't resist saying, "You sure he remembers how?"
But she wasn't in a kidding mood. She scowled at him, and said, "Listen, Frank, I want to get something straight.
"My husband hasn't done anything illegal. At least in your jurisdiction.
"But he puts more trust in the legal system than I do. He's had a rough time, and he's not a hundred per cent physically. So I won't have you hassling him! If you get any damn-fool notion about arresting him, or busting up my family in any way, you'll have to do it over my dead body. And then, my kids'll hit you with lawsuits that'll make you wish you'd never known us."
Inwardly, Frank was laughing hysterically over that "at least in your jurisdiction" qualifier.
But what he said aloud was, "Okay, Reva, here's what I think. I think Jeffrey's gonna tell me he killed Edmund Winslow. Somewhere.
"And if that's what he's done, I'll be sorry I don't have the authority to...award him a medal."
A smile spread slowly across her face. And then, all three of them were laughing and hugging. They were still doing that when Jeffrey opened the door, and the toddler in his arms proudly introduced him to the visitors: "My Da-da. My Da-da!"
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x
Soon they were all in the living room - Reva and Jeffrey side by side on the couch, with Colin climbing all over them.
That's gonna be one spoiled kid for a while, Frank guessed. But they deserve some happiness - all three of them.
He'd already seen enough to know they would be happy. This was definitely the man Reva wanted to be with. They were holding hands, tightly, every moment they could. And whenever they tried to talk about Colin's quick acceptance of Jeffrey, one or the other would start tearing up. (Whereupon a concerned Colin would ask if they had a boo-boo.)
He could also see what Reva had meant, about Jeffrey's not being completely well. He might be imagining the unhealthy pallor - he wasn't used to seeing the guy without a mustache and beard. But he hadn't imagined the limp and the occasional winces, or the weight loss. Now he noticed Jeffrey's free hand, the left. He couldn't take his eyes off it - and of course, he got caught looking.
Both men gave abashed grins.
Jeffrey held it up, and looked at it himself. The fingers so thin that he - or probably, Frank thought, Reva - had put his wedding ring on his index finger.
"Just temporary," he said cheerfully. "No rare, fatal disease here. I'm too ornery to die! It's just that I hadn't had a square meal for months, till a few days ago.
"I'd had some injuries, too. And that ties into what I want to tell you. You and Vanessa...the only police, and media representative, I trust.
"You see that?"
Frank looked where Jeffrey was pointing. In a corner...a large, very worn and grimy, duffel bag.
Reva made a face. "I'll be glad to get it out of here. It stinks."
"Does not," Jeffrey retorted. "You just imagine that 'cause you know what's in it. But I have the stuff wrapped well enough that it doesn't stink."
"Does too. I can smell it, if you can't!"
Colin, looking intensely interested, tried to get down off the couch - clearly intending to make a beeline for that duffel bag. But his mother captured him and dragged him back. She stuck her tongue out at Jeffrey - they both began laughing - and then they were fighting back tears again.
"I'm sorry," Reva choked out. "It's just so strange to -"
"To feel normal," Jeffrey finished the thought.
She nodded. "Yes." They looked soulfully at each other, and Frank felt very much an intruder.
Until Colin escaped again, and it was Frank's turn to catch him.
x
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x
When they were more or less settled down, Jeffrey said, "Okay. As I understand it, just about everyone believes Dinah killed Edmund Winslow. Or if she didn't kill him, she killed someone. Right?"
"Right," Vanessa said unhappily.
"Vanessa...do you think she'd be willing to come home and face possible indictment, if it can be proven that she didn't kill Edmund, and shown that she probably didn't kill anyone?
"Before you answer - there'd be some risk, because she'd still be guilty of attempted murder. But let's say it can be shown that Edmund was guilty of worse, more vicious crimes than most people have realized. I think the legal system would be lenient with her.
"Of course, we have no way of contacting her. But wherever she is, I can't believe she doesn't look at the WSPR website. Maybe you could reach her through that, include something that would give her a hint she should call you?"
Both Frank and Vanessa smiled; Jeffrey was barely holding in his own smile. Vanessa undoubtedly knew where her daughter was, probably spoke to her almost every day.
Vanessa said, "Dinah might be at a good place in her life now..."
"I hope she is," Jeffrey replied. "But don't you think she'd still like to clear her name, so she'd be free to come and go as she pleases?"
Vanessa nodded. "Yes. That would be wonderful. If you think there's a real chance, she'll probably jump at it."
Reva, Frank noticed, hadn't smiled at any point. If Dinah had confessed whatever it was she'd done at the outset, Jeffrey's life never would have been in danger.
Yes, by the time he left Springfield with Dinah, he'd known her confession would clear Reva. But by then he'd become convinced Edmund was alive, had tried to frame his wife, and had to be brought to justice.
If Dinah had confessed as soon as the body was found, the police never would have searched Reva's car and found the tire iron Edmund had planted there. In all probability, when Reva herself found it, she wouldn't have noticed the small amount of blood on it. She would have puzzled over the tire iron for a minute or so, then chucked it in the garage and forgotten about it - not even thinking to mention it to Jeffrey. And with there seemingly being no mystery associated with Edmund's "death," no evidence pointing to the guilt of someone he believed was innocent, Jeffrey wouldn't have guessed Edmund had faked it.
Reva was very human, and she'd probably never forgive the younger woman for putting her husband at risk.
"This is where that duffel bag comes in," Jeffrey went on. "It contains evidence I've been saving, lugging it around with me for months. I wouldn't have trusted it to any police agency but Springfield's - and not even this one, Frank, if you weren't still Chief.
"If the contents weren't well wrapped, I admit they'd reek by now..."
He hesitated, and looked at Reva. "I hate talking about this with Colin listening."
"It'll be all right," she assured him. "There's no way he'd stay quietly in his playpen, when he's this hyper. But he won't understand most of the words you'll be using. Just keep your voice level, and you won't upset him."
"Okay," he said dubiously. "Getting back to the contents of the duffel bag - there's clothes, shirts and pants. The ones I was wearing, and the ones Edmund was wearing" - he paused, looking steadily at Frank - "when I killed him."
Frank took a deep breath. So that was out in the open.
"There's DNA on those clothes," Jeffrey continued. "They'll be saturated with it - from sweat, blood, snot, piss, shit, puke. Everything except, probably, semen. I like to think all the piss and shit are Edmund's, let loose when he was dying. The puke, unfortunately, is all mine.
"A forensics team will be able to determine which clothes were whose, from the sweat on the insides. But there'll be enough mixes of DNA to prove the two of us were in close contact.
"This is important. The massing of blood on my clothes will match up with the locations of two bullet wounds - my left side and left leg. I haven't seen a doctor yet, but I will, very soon. Any good doctor will be able to look at the scars and confirm that they're from bullet wounds I patched up myself - from the degree of healing, about three months ago."
Reva let out a soft whimper, clutched Jeffrey's hand more tightly, and nestled closer to him.
But Frank said quietly, "Proving Edmund couldn't have died before then."
Jeffrey nodded. "Right. Now, there are a few other things in the duffel bag. The bullets I plucked out of myself - they'll surely have traces of my blood on them. And just maybe, some DNA of Edmund's, from his handling them when he loaded them into his gun. But that's a long shot - no pun intended! I wasn't able to save the gun. So there's no real proof he's the one shot me, but I'd say the circumstantial evidence is pretty strong.
"More important, though, is my dagger."
Vanessa, who'd been looking somewhat green around the gills, shuddered visibly. "Dagger? My God - he shot you, and you had to defend yourself with a dagger?"
Jeffrey gave a faint smile, and Frank realized that was the reaction he'd hoped for. The immediate thought that he'd been forced to defend himself, with an inferior weapon.
"Yep, a dagger. The hilt will have my prints on it. The blade will have Edmund's blood. And snot, because I drove it up his nose. The crucial thing - it'll have his brain tissue. Enough to show that the dagger thrust must have killed him, almost instantaneously.
"Since there's no blood of his, from other wounds, on his clothes or mine, that will prove he'd shot me before I did anything to him."
"Pretty neat," Frank acknowledged.
"There's more." Jeffrey's eyes glinted; at the moment, he was enjoying himself. "The clothes are bound to have traces of plant matter on them. Plant matter native to Central America. So this...incident...rather obviously didn't take place in your jurisdiction.
"Hard to say whose 'jurisdiction' it was - the plant matter could have come from any of two or three countries. And we were in a jungle, y'know? No nicely marked national boundaries."
Even Reva was smiling now.
Not know what country he was in? Frank thought. He probably remembers the exact latitude and longitude!
Aloud, he said good-humoredly, "For some reason, I don't think any Central American country's likely to launch a manhunt for one of two foreigners who'd wandered across a border, and were never known to have been there. But if they do, of course, I reserve the right to extradite you!"
This time, Reva stuck her tongue out at him.
And Colin promptly copied her.
x
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x
After they'd relaxed a bit, and Reva had brought drinks for everyone, Jeffrey said, "Uh, Frank - since you won't be charging me with anything, do you think you could get that DNA and other testing done fairly quickly, and give me the results? I pretty much have to go on TV and explain what happened, if only for Dinah's sake. I'd like to be able to tell the whole story - knowing that if I don't have the test results, they'll be available in a week or two." He, of course, understood that in real life, DNA test results never come back as quickly as they - conveniently - do in TV crime dramas.
Frank said, "Sure. It really is a police matter, till we confirm that the tests show what you've said they will. But you're perfectly free to talk about it. I'll put a rush on the tests, and give you everything - even the evidence itself back, if you want it - as soon as possible."
"Good. Thanks. And there are other things I want to tell you, to back up what I said about Edmund's having been more vicious than people have imagined. There's evidence, too! Which should be taken into account in judging Dinah."
He began by describing the plane crash in which he'd almost died, and another man had. "I'm an experienced pilot, and I'm sure the plane was sabotaged. I think my testimony would convince a judge or jury of that, even if the wreck can't be brought up."
Then he recounted the threats Edmund had made to keep him from telling Reva he was still alive. "That was out-and-out sadism. I have a witness, Jonathan. Obviously, he's not unbiased. But we kept messages from Edmund, in which he made the threats. Jonathan has a recording of his voice, and I held onto a note in his handwriting.
"When I was badly wounded and he was about to kill me, he taunted me by telling me he'd already had Reva, Shayne, Jonathan, and all three children in our families, killed! I can't prove that, but I'm willing to testify to it under oath. And it's of a piece with his other behavior."
"Horrible," Frank murmured. Trying to imagine how he'd feel if he was looking death in the face, and someone told him they'd already killed his baby. He was surprised to find that the thought continued, or Blake...
Vanessa looked almost physically ill.
"And I haven't explained yet," Jeffrey went on, "why I believe it was Edmund, not Dinah, who killed his double.
"To begin with, we know Edmund was in Springfield. Reva and Dinah both spoke with him, and someone put fresh blood of his on the fake 'murder weapon' planted in Reva's car. But if he was planning to be in town himself, it's hard to imagine why he'd need his double - a henchman who'd had plastic surgery - to help with kidnapping a baby. He convinced the guy he did need him, probably paid him well to come. But it seems fishy.
"The idea that makes the most sense is that he'd planned all along to kill the double, after he'd kidnapped Henry. He'd frame someone for supposedly murdering him. And when Henry was never found, everyone would assume Edmund had snatched him, killed him, and disposed of the body, before he himself was killed. That way he'd be able to raise his grandson, with no one looking for them.
"Evidence to support it? Right from the start, Edmund had access to plenty of money, was able to jet all over the world. That strongly suggests that he'd planned to fake his death, made all the necessary preparations."
Frank was nodding. "Yep, that's convincing. And it shows he was pretty damn cold-hearted, even with his own hires."
Jeffrey took a deep breath. "More than you know. Uh, Reva, there's something I haven't even told you yet. But I'd better spit it out.
"Fiction gives people the idea that plastic surgery can make almost anyone a double for anyone else, if they're the same sex, race, and height, and about the same age. But that's not true. In real life, it requires a noticeable resemblance to start with. The kind that would make you think, 'Hmm. This guy Jim looks a lot like my old friend Tom. I wonder if they're related?' "
Turning to Reva, he said urgently, "I want to make this clear. About me, what happened with me years ago? It was a little different, of course, because I'd been badly injured, and facial reconstruction surgery would have been necessary in any case. But even so, the doctors couldn't have made me look totally different from what I'd looked like to begin with. Couldn't have made me a double for Frank, let's say - or Josh, Rick, or Phillip.
"However...I know for a fact I'm not related to the Winslows! I've checked out my family history and theirs, going way back. No connection. My looking sort of like Richard was coincidence, nothing more."
"It's okay, sweetheart," she told him, squeezing his hand. "I believe you. And it wouldn't matter anyway. It wouldn't give me the creeps if you were his third cousin or something. I love you.
"Remember, you've shown me pictures of what you looked like...before. In your case, I really don't think it was that striking a resemblance."
"Okay. I'm glad it's not going to be a problem for you." He still sounded uneasy. "But before I go on, I want to stress that I'm not related to Richard or Edmund, and I've been sure of that for a long time."
He swallowed hard, then pulled himself together and said, "Here's what I've been driving at. Last winter, I found out the truth about Edmund's double.
"With him, there was a strong original resemblance. A family resemblance. The guy Edmund killed so callously - a guy he wasn't mad at, who had in fact fished him out of the river and probably saved his life - was his bastard half-brother! And they both knew it."
"My God." Frank shook his head, in amazed disgust. "You have proof?"
"Yes. Documentary evidence."
After they'd had a minute for that to sink in, Vanessa looked hopefully at Frank. "What do you think?"
"In light of all that?" He was still shaking his head. "No guarantees, of course - but I can't imagine any judge, or jury, giving Dinah more than a slap on the wrist for what she did. It's more likely that when Jeffrey produces his evidence, she won't even be indicted."
x
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Jeffrey said thoughtfully, "I'd like to get things moving. Get your scoop on the air today, Vanessa, and go on from there. Would you be okay with that, Reva?"
She gave a decisive nod. "Yes. We'll have to deal with a lot of publicity, for weeks, and you know I've had my doubts about whether we could handle it. But now, I'm ready if you are.
"We're fine - my only worries are about your health. And I know it wouldn't do you any good to hole up in the house and hide, not even getting any fresh air. I've come to see that's the only alternative."
"I'm glad you understand what it'll be like," Vanessa said. "Your 'death' was big news, Jeffrey! I'm not sure you realized, back then, how major a public figure you were."
He grimaced. "Reva's told me that when they thought I was dead, people went on and on about what a good DA I'd been. But everyone here knows the truth.
"The last time I was DA, I served for less than a year. I wasn't able to accomplish any of the things I'd wanted, because there were so many damned distractions. A run of bad luck, one mess after another involving people who were embarrassingly close to me. And at least one bad mistake of mine, that was sort of understandable, given the circumstances."
Frank gave a rueful nod. He remembered that, all too well.
After Jeffrey had seemingly defused a dangerous situation involving Natalia's son Rafe, Rafe had shot him accidentally. The badly wounded Jeffrey had believed it was an accident, and tried to protect the teenager. But he couldn't remember the shooting, and when he was pressed for details, he'd made up a story that didn't fit the facts (claimed he himself had grabbed the gun, when his prints weren't on it). So the DA was caught lying to police - most unfortunate, despite the worthiness of his motive! Jeffrey would have been of more help to Rafe if he'd admitted not remembering, and simply vouched for the youth's character. As it was, Rafe had received an undeserved prison sentence.
Jeffrey had resigned as DA to accept a vaguely described position with the U.S. Dept. of Justice. There was no doubt the Feds had wanted him badly - they'd applied a full-court press in recruiting him, appealing to his sense of duty and patriotism. Apparently, what they'd wanted most was to be able to pick his brain, draw on his experience and savvy in matters of covert ops.
His shadowy Government bosses had wanted him to do more traveling than he'd been willing to do, at that point in his life. But they hadn't authorized, let alone ordered, his yearlong pursuit of Edmund. They, like almost everyone else, had believed both men were dead.
Shaking his head over that irony, Frank made himself resume listening to what the others were saying. The gist of it was that Vanessa's televised interview with Jeffrey - and Reva - could well run over an hour. Two hours, maybe three? All on one night, or two or three successive nights? With follow-ups when they had those test results...
Vanessa, Frank noticed, had a cat-that-ate-the-canary look on her face.
Well, sure. She's happy for Dinah, and airing this story will send WSPR's ratings through the roof.
He was struck by a sudden thought. "Hey, wait a minute.
"Jeffrey, maybe you haven't been back long enough to hear about this. Last spring, the county voted to make the position of DA elective. 'Cause three appointees - starting with, um, you - had resigned within the space of two years, and it was thought someone who'd wanted the job badly enough to run in an election would be more likely to stick with it.
"But now the election's only a few weeks away, and both parties' candidates are, like, the dregs. One's unqualified, the other crooked as a ram's horn.
"This story of yours - forensics included - is sensational! If it's splashed all over the news in the weeks leading up to the election, there'll be a massive write-in -"
He broke off.
And stared at the little family on the couch.
Colin looked smugly happy, bouncing on the lap of his very own Da-da.
Colin's parents looked smugly happy, too.
Jeffrey, with his chin buried in his son's golden curls, said casually, "That's the plan."
x
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The End