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Mercedes was starting to ask another question but Rachel blurted out, “Bruce Hollander is out of prison now.”
“Yeah. I know that.”
“Have you interviewed him?”
Silence.
“Have you?” Rachel demanded, her thoughts whirling. Fear sliding through her soul.
“Yeah,” she said. As if it was no big deal. This was the man who had beaten up his wife, put Melinda in the hospital. “He wasn’t too hard to track down,” Mercy said.
But he’s dangerous! A known felon! “Does he live around here?” Rachel’s heart was thudding wildly and it was all she could do to keep her tone normal. “Do you have his address?”
“No . . . Just a phone number. He, unlike you and the rest of your family, was willing to discuss his feelings about the son he’d barely known.”
“I’d like that number.”
“Oh . . . no, I can’t do that.”
“You’ve already admitted that you talked to him. It’s not like you’re protecting a source. You’re printing his damned picture in the paper.”
“Whoa, slow down. So what? Look, I don’t give out addresses or phone numbers. If he asked for yours I wouldn’t give it to him.”
“Did he? Did he ask for mine?”
“No! God, Rach. Slow down, will you? What’s wrong?”
Everything. Every damned thing. My marriage is over, my kids are growing up and away from me. Someone’s definitely targeting me. People I know are being killed, damn it, and you’re bringing up the worst part of my life, putting it out for public display, so that my children will see it, so that the whole town will
read about it, so that I’ll relive it.
“I’m fine,” she lied.
“I hope so.” Obviously Mercedes didn’t believe her, but her voice softened as she added, “Look, Rachel, we’ve been friends a long time. I was there that night; I saw what Luke’s death did to you, to your family. I remember seeing you so upset and your dad comforting you and trying to comfort Lila, who was out of her mind, and I know you think I’m exploiting you and your family, but I’m just telling the story, or retelling it because it’s a part of the history of this town.
“That cannery, where it all happened, used to be the very heart and soul of Edgewater. One in three families had someone directly or indirectly involved with tuna and salmon packing back in its heyday. From fishermen to cannery workers to truckers to janitors and inspectors, that cannery along with the sawmill and logging camps, kept this town alive. And then it was over and the cannery was closed, never sold, and a group of kids went down there one night for some fun, and a boy, a local athlete, was tragically killed. It’s part of Edgewater’s history. Now the cannery is scheduled to be renovated and rebuilt into a bustling new complex of restaurants and shops, condos and businesses, lauded as rejuvenating this town. It’s important.” She let out a sigh. “Of course, now there’s a new angle.”
Rachel saw where this was going and she thought she might be sick. “Violet’s and Annessa’s murders.”
“That’s right. It’s horrible, yes, but news. And your daughter found Annessa. So it’s important that I talk to Harper.”
“Important for whom? No.”
“I think it should be her decision.”
“What? No! God, Mercy, back off. She’s just a kid.”
“About the same age as you were when Luke was killed.”
“I’m aware of that,” Rachel said through tight lips.
“This is my job, Rach.”
“And this is my life. My kid’s life.”
“Just let me talk to her. I won’t use her name.”
“I think it’s too late for that.” Rachel heard footsteps behind her and glanced over her shoulder. Harper was at the top of the stairs, peering into her office. “Look, Mercy, I’ve got to go—”
