Dublin Road was a two-lane stretch of blacktop that wound through the forest. Towering trees to both sides of the road escorted Mackenzie to Amy Lucas's residence. She felt like she was being transported through time, especially when she came to the house and saw that old Cadillac, sitting up on blocks at the far end of the gravel driveway.
She parked behind the only other car in the driveway, a much more current Honda, and got out. As she stepped up onto the porch, she thought of Mr. Atkins telling her about her mother and Amy playing cards in this very space. The knowledge of her mother having at one time occupied the porch sent a small shiver through her.
Mackenzie knocked on the door and it was answered right away. The woman who stood on the other side was a ghost of the memory Mackenzie had. Amy Lucas appeared to be in her early fifties and had the sort of eyes that always seemed to be suspicious of someone. Most of her brown hair had already gone gray. It was pulled back tight to reveal a forehead pocked with old acne scars. She had a cigarette between the fingers of her right hand, the smoke drifting back into the house.
"Mrs. Lucas?" Mackenzie asked. "Amy Lucas?"
"That's me," she said. "Who are you?"
Mackenzie flashed her badge and went through the same old routine. "Mackenzie White, with the FBI. I was hoping to ask-"
"Mac! Holy shit! What are you doing in town?"
The fact that this woman apparently remembered her well threw Mackenzie off a bit but she managed to keep her composure. "I'm actually working on a case and I was hoping you could be of some help."
"Me?" She then laughed the kind of laugh that had long ago become the sound of countless cigarettes working against her lungs.
"Well, it's about my dad's case. And quite frankly, Mom and I aren't on the best terms anymore. I was hoping you could maybe help shed some light on a few things."
Those suspicious eyes narrowed for a moment before Amy nodded her head and stepped aside. "Come on in," she said.
Mackenzie stepped inside and was smacked in the face by the stench of cigarette smoke. It was almost like a visible cloud hanging in the house. Amy led her through a small foyer and into the living room, where she took a seat in an old tattered armchair.
As Mackenzie sat down on the edge of a couch on the far wall, she did her best to cover up the fact that she was trying not to cough from all the cigarette smoke.
"I heard about your husband," Mackenzie said. "My condolences."
"Yeah, it was a sad day, but we knew it was coming. Cancer can be a bitch. But…he was ready to go. The pain was so bad there near the end."
There was no easy transition and, since Mackenzie had never considered the art of conversation her strong point, she did her best to get to the point without seeming rude.
"So, I've come back into town to try to find more details on my father's murder. The case was cold for the longest time but another series of murders elsewhere in the state have us looking back into it. I wanted to come to you because you seem to have been close with my mother. I was wondering if there's anything you can tell me about the state she might have been in during the days just before and just after my father's death."
Amy took a drag from her cigarette and sat back in her chair. She no longer looked suspicious, but now quite sad.
"Damn, I miss your mother. How is she?"
"I don't know," Mackenzie said. "We haven't spoken in over a year. There are some unresolved issues there, as you might imagine."
Amy nodded. "Did she ever make it out of that…home?"
She means the psych ward, Mackenzie thought. "Yes. And then she got an apartment somewhere and lived her own life. She sort of left Stephanie and I behind."
"When your father died, it was so hard on her," Amy said. "The fact that she was right there, on the couch, when it happened-it messed her up."
Yeah, it fucked me up pretty bad, too, Mackenzie thought. "Yeah, we were all there. Did Mom ever say anything to you about that night? Maybe things she saw or heard?"
"Not that I can remember. I do know that she was haunted by the idea that the door must have been unlocked-that the person that came in and killed your father just walked right into the house. It freaked her out that it could have been you or your sister."
"And that's just it," Mackenzie said. "Everyone else was left safe and sound. The killer only wanted my father. Did Mom ever share things with you about my father that you thought were strange? Maybe reasons someone might want him dead?"
"Honestly, your mom only ever talked about how hot he was in that police uniform. He was a detective near the end, though, right?"
"Right. So…did Mom like the fact that he was a cop or did that make her uneasy?"
"A bit of both, I think. She was very proud of him but she was always worried. It's why she drank so much. She was always worried he was going to get hurt and the drinking was her way of handling the stress."
"I see…"
"Look, I know some of the gossip around town may not be so nice, but your mother did love your father. She loved him very much. He went out of his way to support her. When he first became a cop and they could barely meet the bills, he even got a loan and bought this tiny little apartment building outside of town. He tried to be a landlord for about two years and it just wasn't for him. The income was enough to keep them afloat, though."
"When was this?" she asked.
"Before you came along, for sure," Amy said. "We were all so young back then. God, I can't believe I forget about some of it so easily…"
Mackenzie couldn't help but smile. Just like that, she'd learned something new about her father. Sure, maybe he and his mother had mentioned his little landlord endeavor in passing but if they had, she had never picked up on it.
"Amy, when was the last time you spoke with my mother?"
"The day before she left to go off to that home. Not to rub it in, but even then I think she was upset with you. But she never gave any good reason why."
"And did she say anything about my father?"
"She said it happened like a nightmare. She said it was her fault and she should have been able to stop it. I figured it was just guilt from having been asleep and not waking up when someone apparently came into the house with a gun."
"Anything else you can think of?" Mackenzie asked.
Even as Amy gave this some thought, Mackenzie had latched on to one thing Amy had said. She should have been able to stop it.
Seems like a strange thing to say in light of what happened.
She knows something. She always has and I've been too damned scared to ask…
Shit. I have to call her.
Amy finally answered with: "No, nothing that I can remember. But you've jogged my memory on the past now. If I think of anything else, I'll certainly let you know."
"I'd appreciate that," Mackenzie said, handing Amy one of her business cards.
She left the house, blessedly glad to be able to breathe in the fresh air. She headed back to her car, aware the she reeked of cigarette smoke, but still pondering the new bit of information she'd learned about her father.
A landlord, she thought. I can't see that at all! I wonder if Stephanie knew…
But on the heels of that was another thought.
I'm going to have to visit my mother. I can't get around it any longer.
This knowledge made her instantly nervous. As she pulled back out onto Dublin Road, the mere thought of seeing her mother set her on edge. It felt like a weight was settling in her stomach as she headed back into town, trying to think of anything she could do to put off the inevitable visit with her mother.
