Fall Guy

story. Why not? What else did he have but his stories?
    Francis Connor had come from a family of storytellers. The skill, the art of storytelling was his birthright. I bet they all told good stories, every last one of them. But the best ones, the most compelling ones might have been the ones Francis told, especially the ones he told himself.
    The lobby was empty when I left the ladies' room and headed home. All the pieces fit now. In its own horrible way, it all made sense.
    I thought of walking over to the precinct but went home instead. It would be easier to talk to Brody in the garden. I was ready, I was thinking as I unlocked the gate, to make what I'd told Irwin the truth. I had the answers I'd been looking for, even, I thought, why O'Fallon had chosen me for the job that no one wants. I was ready to put it down, to leave it to the cops. I sat on the top step, looking up at the cloudy, dark sky, and dialed Brody's cell phone. Listening to the phone ring, I wondered how I'd tell him what I knew. I wondered where to begin.

CHAPTER 31
    Where's your better half?“ he asked, standing at the gate and looking down the tunnel toward the garden.
    „He's with Maggie.“
    Brody frowned.
    „It's just until... I thought she might be in danger. That's what I wanted to talk to you about, about Parker's friend Andy and—“
    „Andrew Chase. We know all about him,“ he said. „Parker told us that it was Andy who got him out of the house the morning Tim died, that he'd gotten one of his buddies to pretend his name was Freddy, claim they'd met before.“
    „But—“
    „Parker couldn't possibly remember every guy he got drunk with, every piece of garbage he bullshitted in the past six months.“
    „Then you have him? You have Parker?“
    Brody nodded.
    „I just saw him,“ I said, the things I had to say coming out backward, not the way I'd planned.
    „Who? Parker?“ Scowling.
    „No. Andy. At the Hotel Riverview. That's why I called you.“
    He didn't seem to be listening. He walked past me into the dark tunnel. I locked the gate and began to follow him, but he turned so suddenly, I nearly walked right into him.
    „But that's not his real name.“
    Brody frowned again.
    „Andrew Chase.“ I stopped. A chase, I thought. His life's work. Waiting for his aunt to die, then coming after Tim.
    „Not now, Rachel,“ Brody said, his voice hoarse, a man who hadn't slept in too long a time. „We know all about Andy. We're taking care of everything.“
    I wanted to tell him that Tim hadn't committed suicide, that Parker hadn't killed anyone. „You don't understand,“ I wanted to say. But I didn't. I didn't say another word. I thought he probably did understand, that that was why his eyes looked so old and sad, that that was why he was reaching out, putting his hands on my shoulders, why he was pulling me toward him, because it was all over now, because everything was okay.
    I could feel my shirt clinging to me, the evening so warm, barely a breeze anywhere. It was even hotter in the tunnel, all closed-in the way it was, no air moving at all, Brody standing so close I could feel his breath on my skin.
    So I didn't say that when I'd waited across the street from the Hotel Riverview to see who had registered there as Freddy Baker that I'd seen Francis Connor, that I'd seen his hands, that finally everything made sense. I didn't say that Tim was the point of it all, that Elizabeth was killed to set up Parker and that poor Dennis was in the wrong place at the wrong time, that Francis had seen that flash of recognition in his eyes, and that that's why he was dead now, too.
    Brody slid his hands down my arms, taking my hands in his, stepping even closer.
    They were taking care of it, he'd said. Maybe they'd been at the hotel when I was there, waiting outside or following him out, not wanting to arrest him in the middle of the theater crowd. Is that what Michael was trying to tell me, that they had him already? Surely there was nothing I could tell them they didn't already know. Or, if there was some small detail I knew that they didn't, well then, it could wait. It had waited for twenty-nine years, it could wait another few hours.
    I pushed my face into Brody's neck, breathing in the smell of his skin. When I looked up into his face, he bent to kiss me. We stood together in the tunnel a long time, holding on to each other with everything we had. Then we went inside and up the stairs. He removed the .357 magnum from his holster,