Sweetheart (Archie Sheridan & Gretchen Lowell, #2)

“Right,” Archie said.

“Anyway,” Susan continued, “we’ll get to that.” She pulled her legs up under her in the chair. “But there’s something you should know first. They made an announcement this morning. They’ve appointed a new senator to serve out Castle’s term.” The color in her cheeks rose. “It’s the mayor. It’s Bud Anderson.”

“Buddy?” Archie said.

“I went and talked to him,” Susan continued. “I told him the Herald was finally going to run the Castle story and that I was going to reveal that he lied in his public statements about not knowing about the statutory rape. That’s obstruction of justice. I told him that Henry was reopening the Nixon/Davis case, and that it was all going to come unraveled.”

Archie’s brain was foggy. He tried to follow. “The Herald’s running the Castle story?”

Susan shook her head. “No, I lied.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Archie asked.

“Because Buddy said he’d go on record,” Susan said. “Spill everything. What he knew and when.” She paused dramatically. “After he talked to you.”





CHAPTER





67


Buddy was standing in Archie’s room, his fingers spreading open the blinds so he could see out the window. He’d been standing there for what seemed like five minutes.

“Senator,” Archie said.

Buddy chuckled. “Not yet,” he said.

Archie had known Buddy for almost fifteen years, attended his last two weddings. Buddy had visited Debbie in the hospital after both the children were born, held them as infants in his arms. He’d been to the house for dinner. Had had Archie’s family to his house. He and Archie had worked twelve-hour days on the Beauty Killer case. Buddy was one of the few people who understood what it had been like, those long nights, the obsession, the violence, and grief. After Archie’s kidnapping, it had been Buddy who’d arranged the disability, who’d signed off on the victim identification project. Archie owed him more than he could repay.

And now he was going to accuse him of murder.

“You were Molly Palmer’s contact, when she needed more money from Castle,” Archie said. “You used John Bannon’s name. But it was you.”

Buddy scratched the side of his face and nodded absentmind-edly. “I moonlighted on Castle’s security detail my first few years out of the academy,” he said. “You never knew that, did you?” He looked into the middle distance with a slight smile. “I was always a great admirer of his. He did a lot for law enforcement.”

“Did you kill Nixon and Davis?”

Buddy came and sat down in the chair next to the bed and picked up a paper cup of coffee from the commissary that was sitting on the floor and peeled off the thin white plastic top. He took a sip of the coffee and then tucked it between his knees. “I had it cleaned up,” Buddy said. “It was murder-suicide. The kid left a note.” Buddy lifted his fingers in air quotes. “He’d been betrayed by politics. He mentioned the Molly Palmer thing specifically.” He shook his head. “Didn’t know shit about it. He’d heard rumors. But the kid was sensitive.” He took another small sip of coffee and then returned the cup to his knees. “Shot her in the head, then himself. Right in the grass in Lower Macleay Park.” He looked down at his coffee and then up at Archie. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Did you want some coffee?”

“I’m not sure I’m allowed,” Archie said.

“You’ll tell me if you change your mind? It’s no problem,” Buddy said.

“Okay,” said Archie.

“The kid called the senator first,” Buddy continued. “Told him goodbye and fuck you. I got down there and cleaned up the site. I took Bennett with me. He worked for Castle for two years after college, before I encouraged him to join the force. It was just the two of us, so we couldn’t move the bodies far. I remembered Heather Gerber.” He smiled and shook his head. “Isn’t it funny how that stuff comes back to you? We dragged the bodies up there. There was a house up the hill. They were having some work done. There was ivy everywhere and they had hired a crew to come in and clean it up and they had a wood chipper. Dog barked like a bitch in heat but his owner must be deaf, because no one came out of the house. I fed the boy into the chipper but it jammed. So I just left the girl in a shallow grave. I destroyed the note. Hosed the wood chipper down. Moved the kid’s car a mile away. And left.”

“And Molly Palmer?” Archie asked.

“She got in touch with me. Wanted ten grand to disappear forever. I met her there in the park. Gave her some money and some heroin and let nature take its course.”

“The heroin was bad.”

“I didn’t put the needle in her arm, Archie. She did that all by herself. Once a junkie, always a junkie. She was bad news when she was fourteen. And she died bad news.”

“Where’s the money?” Archie asked.