Hope's Peak (Harper and Lane #1)(10)



“I did, actually.”

Stu raises a hand in the air. “With my help.”

The nurse tells them to take a seat and lowers his voice to a near whisper. “You won’t get much out of him till this game is over. Might as well sit down and get comfortable.”

As it is, the game only goes on for another few minutes, thanks to a lucky catch turned into a double play by a rookie first baseman, and Lloyd is finished with it. He wads the betting slip up into a little ball and chucks it on the floor. Now he looks at the two detectives with a face that belies his frustration.

“Who’re you two?”

“I am Detective Jane Harper. This is my partner, Detective Stu Raley.”

“From Hope’s Peak PD?”

“Yes sir,” Stu says.

Lloyd sits back, hands locked together over his paunch. “Still a shit hole of a place to work?”

“It can be, sometimes,” Harper admits. “But that’s not why we’re here.”

“Well whatever it is, don’t bother asking me for betting tips. Ain’t had a lucky streak for quite some time,” Lloyd tells them.

Harper looks at him. Hair almost gone, and what there is of it is pure white. His hands are smothered in age spots. Lloyd’s face is deeply lined, his jowls sagging with the years, but his eyes are bright.

“We’re not here for tips, Mister Claymore,” Stu says. “We’re here for help.”

“Eh?”

Harper sits forward. “Do you remember Ruby Lane, Detective?”

Recognition flashes. “I do. And it’s not ‘Detective’ anymore. Just Lloyd.”

“Okay, Lloyd. Tell us what you remember about her,” Harper says.

What he has to say is very much in line with what she’s already read from the file, with just a few of the details fudged. Despite that, his memory is remarkably sharp for someone pushing eighty. He recalls names, dates, places. Who said what and where. Harper is impressed.

“You’ve got a good memory,” Stu says.

“Just ’cause I’m in here don’t mean I’m senile, son,” Lloyd says. He taps the left side of his chest. “It’s my ticker’s the problem. Not my head.”

Stu smirks. “Got it.”

“So, her daughter. Ida—”

“Look, if you’re here to talk to me about Ruby Lane, that means one thing. That means you’ve connected some dots. You have a dead girl on your hands. Maybe a few?”

Harper holds up her fingers. “Two.”

“And you’ve noticed a distinct similarity with the murder of Ruby Lane and the two new ones, yes?”

She nods.

“Good. Then it means I can impart something to you both that might be a little . . . sensitive.”

“What do you mean?”

Lloyd sighs. He looks at them both. “I’ve got the cancer. It’s in my bladder; it’s in my spine. I’m pretty sure it’s in my lungs and God knows where else by now. They say I’ve got six months . . . Well, who knows, eh?”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Stu says.

“While I thank you for your sympathy, it’s misplaced, believe me.”

Harper cocks her head to one side. “How so?”

“I’ve kept a secret, Detective Harper. One that has tainted this town long enough. Unfortunately, it’s a secret I cannot carry with me to the grave. Not if he’s killing again.”

“You know who is killing these young women?” Harper asks, sitting forward.

Lloyd shakes his head. “No. But I know there have been others. A great many others, in fact.”

“Tell me,” Harper says, feeling cold, as if from a draft.

Lloyd is hesitant at first, looking away from them. Harper can see the wheels turning in his old head, deciding whether or not to trust them.

“You can tell me whatever it is you have to tell me,” Harper assures him. “I don’t have ulterior motives. I’m trying to catch a killer.”

Stu clears his throat.

Harper looks back at him. “We,” she says with a shake of her head. “We are trying to catch a killer here. Anything you can tell me will help. Anything at all.”

Lloyd’s tired eyes study her face for a long moment, as if trying to determine the integrity of her character. “I’ve lived in this town my whole life. Do you understand that? Spending so long in one goddamn place?”

“I guess so . . .”

“Hope’s Peak relies on tourist dollars, Detective. The economic fallout if our town no longer had a steady stream of summer vacationers would be devastating. We do well because this is seen to be a respectable place. A little slice of small-town America that people find quaint, charming . . . irresistible, you might say.”

Stu says: “I don’t get where you’re going with this.”

“What I’m trying to say is that sometimes good people do bad things because they think it serves a greater purpose. Such as saving a town from ruin,” Lloyd says. “Not long after the murder of Ruby Lane, there was another. We’d already received a fair amount of media attention. Before I could attend the crime scene I was called to a meeting. Vince Brookstein, my captain at the time, was there, along with the mayor of Hope’s Peak and a number of other people.”

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