Page 93 of Nobody's Fool

“Opening this all up again. Kicking the beehive. We all want to know the truth, but…”

He stops. Madeline takes his hand. I see the concern on her face.

“Never mind,” Thomas says, forcing back up the still-faltering smile. “Ask me anything. What do you want to know?”

“Can you tell me about that New Year’s Eve?”

The faltering smile drops off his face like I just told him his dog died. Madeline looks concerned.

“Thomas?” she says.

“It’s my fault, Mr. Kierce,” he says to me. “You probably know that.”

“I’m not here looking to place blame.”

“Victoria called me that night. I didn’t answer.”

He’s so agitated, I worry Madeline will ask me to leave.

“Let’s start at the beginning,” I say. “Victoria and her friends planned to celebrate the new millennium at McCabe’s Pub in New York City. They needed someone twenty-five years old to sign a release. Is that correct?”

Thomas nods. “That was irresponsible of me.”

“But understandable,” I say, trying to seem a sympathetic ally. “My older brother used to buy me beers when I was in high school. I appreciated that.”

This isn’t true, but you see what I’m doing.

“I was a mess back then,” Thomas says. “I imagine you’ve done some background work.”

“I have.”

“So you know I drank too much. I had four DUIs. There was a minor drug charge when I was in college.”

“Thomas, I’m not here to relitigate any of that. But you said what happened was your fault. Could you tell me what you mean by that?”

He takes a deep breath.

Madeline whispers, “It’s okay, honey.” She gives me a semibaleful look. “It’s hard for him,” she says. “Bringing this all up.”

“I’m sorry for that,” I say, and I mean it. Thomas seems genuinely distraught, and I don’t want to add to that. According to the locals, Thomas is a good guy. He contributes to lots of causes. He has stayed out of trouble. I’m still pissed off about his behavior when I trespassed, but I get what it’s like to be overprotective of a loved one. Here is something I’m just going to say with the huge caveat that yes, it’s a snap judgement and snap judgements are often wrong: I think what I see in front of me is basically a good man. Maybe it was the hug from the daughter. Maybe it’s the way his lovely wife cares about him. His sister’s disappearance was obviously a huge trauma for him. I get that, and I sympathize. It won’t make me back off. A good detective recognizes and worries about sensibilities, but he doesn’t let them deter him.

I turn my attention back to Thomas and wait.

“I drove Vic to that party,” he says. “She and one of her friends—Caroline, I think—wanted to get there early to set up.”

“Set up?”

“Decorate the room, hang up New Year’s posters, stuff like that.” Thomas smiles at his wife while still speaking to me. “Vic was that kind of kid. Always responsible. Always looking out for others.” Now he turns back to me. “Do you want to hear something awful?”

I don’t know how to reply, so I just try to look interested.

“I was already half wasted when I drove her.”

“Do you think she knew?”

“That I was under the influence? Probably. I was just oblivious. Vic was my goofy little sister. I was too wrapped up in my own stuff to see her, you know what I mean?”

I nod that I do.

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