by Rebecca York
She directed Max back along the farm road, then told him where to stop. They both got out and walked to the field.
A tall thin man wearing worn jeans, a plaid shirt, and a straw had glanced up inquiringly when he saw them on his property.
“Everything okay?” he asked, looking from Olivia to Max and back again.
“No problem about you,” Olivia said.
“But?”
“We were wondering if you’d seen anyone suspicious around the Winters’ property?” Max said.
“Well, you, for starters. You’re the guy who was nosing around with two other fellows,” Yeager said.
Max glanced at Olivia, thinking she probably hadn’t expected the farmer to comment on what he and his partners had been doing there. When she said nothing, he explained. “I’m Olivia’s new fiancé.”
Yeager’s gaze bored into Max. Instead of offering congratulations, he said, “What—are you thinking about selling the property?”
“No,” Olivia answered quickly.
The farmer looked relieved, then finally said, “Congratulations.”
“Yes, thanks,” she managed to reply, wishing she could sink into the ground beside the cornfield. Or wishing that Max had just come here alone, although she knew that wouldn’t have been practical, for a whole lot of reasons. Starting with she was the one who knew Yeager and ending with Max had said it was dangerous for her to be alone at the farm.
Yeager looked her up and down. “So you’re giving up your career?”
“No,” she answered quickly. Or was that really what she was considering?
To her relief, Max jumped back into the conversation. “I guess you saw me and my buddies setting some security devices. I was concerned about her safety after her friend was killed.”
“What friend are you talking about?” Yeager asked.
“Angela Dawson was in her class at Donley High. She had a shop in Ellicott City. You didn’t hear anything about that?”
Yeager’s gaze turned inward. “Yeah, I do remember reading something about it in the Times. It’s a damn shame what this world is coming to.”
“Yes,” Olivia agreed.
Max continued. “So a couple of my buddies and I were just making sure nobody could sneak up on the house.” He paused a beat, then added, “In fact, somebody tried to do that last night.”
“Oh yeah?” Yeager asked, looking genuinely surprised, and Olivia was sure he hadn’t had anything to do with it.
“Uh-huh,” Max answered but didn’t elaborate.
The farmer took off his wide-brimmed hat and swiped his arm across his forehead.
“We were wondering if you’d seen anybody hanging around the property,” Max said.
Yeager thought for a moment. “As a matter of fact, I did see a car parked up the road.” He gestured toward Olivia’s house.
“The farm road or the highway?”
“Highway.”
“When?” Max asked, and Olivia caught the sharp edge in his voice.
“A couple of days ago.”
“After we got here,” Olivia murmured.
“And nobody before that?” Max clarified.
Yeager creased the brim of his hat. “Not that I saw. Course, I wasn’t looking out for anyone. And I don’t spend all my time scanning the road. I got work to do.”
“Understood,” Max answered. “Can you tell us anything about who you saw?”
“It was just a car parked. A cheap model. Probably Jap.”
“Okay. Did you see who was in it?” Max asked.
“A fellow did get out and stare toward your house.”
“Young? Old?”
“Hard to tell. He was pretty far away, and he was wearing a baseball cap pulled down kind of low. But maybe he did move like a younger man.”
“Anything else you remember?”
Yeager gave Max a sharp look. “You’re askin’ a lot of questions. You sure you’re not a cop or something?”
“No,” Max said evenly. “I’m just concerned about my sweetie.”
Olivia shot him a look but said nothing.
“Well, I can’t give you any more details. I was too far away.”
“If you remember anything, could you call?” Max asked.
“Sure. But I don’t think there’s much else to say.”
“You have my cell number,” Olivia said.
Yeager nodded.
“Thanks for your time,” Max said.
He and Olivia both turned and walked back to his SUV. They waited until they were inside the vehicle with the doors closed before speaking.
“So someone was hanging around,” Olivia said.
Max nodded. “It doesn’t prove anything. It could be someone just getting out to stretch his legs.”
“Is that what you think?” she asked.
“Actually, no. Too bad we don’t know much about him besides that it was a guy driving a cheap car. Which doesn’t mean that’s what he usually drives. He could have used it for the occasion.”
“So we have no idea who it is. And we don’t even know for sure if it was the guy who strung the barbed wire.”
“Unfortunately.” He turned toward her. “How do you evaluate Yeager’s reaction to our asking questions?”
She thought for a moment, then said, “He was a little on edge. But like his wife, he could be worried that I’m going to try and get him off the property.”
“Can you?”
“Well, he’s got a lease. But I suppose I could break it if I was looking to sell. Or buy him off.”
“Would that put him out of business?”
“No. He’s got his own fields. He’s just taking advantage of my acreage to grow more corn.”
“And your dad got along with Yeager?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, it could have been Yeager sneaking around last night.”
“Why would he?”
“It depends on how secure he feels with his rental arrangement. He saw me and Jack and Shane poking around the property. Then he saw lights on in the house. He could have been investigating.”
“But he wouldn’t string barbed wire.”
“When Jack and Shane came out here with me, we didn’t go into the woods where the barbed wire was strung. We only had time for a quick and dirty security setup. That means the barbed wire could have been there when we were on the property, but we didn’t see it.”
“Okay.” She dragged in a breath. “So what’s next?”
He reached to start the car, then dropped his hand. “I was going to suggest we talk to Brian Cannon, but now I’m wondering if there might be something more productive to try.”
“Like what?”
“You dreamed about the party at Brian’s. Is there somewhere else you and your friends used to hang out after school or on weekends? Somewhere away from adult supervision?”
Chapter 12
Max had thought of the question after his early morning session in Olivia’s bed, and he’d been waiting for the right time to spring it on her. Now he watched her face go pale. She looked like she wished he hadn’t brought up the subject, then made an effort to relax.
“Like where?” she asked in a voice that had gone thin. Interesting reaction.
“Somewhere more private than somebody’s house. Maybe you all thought of it after the party, when you realized you could have gotten into trouble.”
She swallowed hard. “You said ‘you.’ Do you mean, me—specifically?
“No. Any one of your gang.”
He was pretty sure she knew about some other place but didn’t want to talk about it. In fact, he had heard kids talking about a hangout they thought was very private. He hadn’t been there himself because he hadn’t wanted to horn in on a party where he wasn’t invited.
Now he kept his voice even, though he wanted to push her. “I’m not talking about The Mall in Columbia. I’m talking about a teenage hangout where you wouldn’t be tripping over adults.”
She was silent for several moments.
“This could be important,” he pressed, hoping she would be honest with him. He’d felt like they were getting closer. Now he knew she was pulling back.
“Why?” she asked.
“I’m trying to understand the dynamics of what happened.”
She swallowed hard, then said, “There was a place we went sometimes.”
He kept his gaze on her, waiting for further clarification.
“Some kind of county maintenance facility that they weren’t using anymore, I guess. Or maybe it belonged to the water company.”
“Want to show it to me?”
“Not particularly.”
“But you will,” Max said.
“If I have to.”
“What’s wrong with the place?”
“A girl was raped there,” she said in a low voice, like she didn’t want to say it at all. “After that we stayed away.”
“She reported the rape?” Max asked.
“Actually, no.”
“Because?”
“It was like what happened with Gary at the party. She knew she would get into trouble if her parents found out she was hanging out there, so she just kept it to herself.”
“That would be enough to keep a rape to herself?” Max asked.
“I guess so.”
“So adults were the enemy?”
“Weren’t they for you?” she asked.
He raised one shoulder. “I guess that’s right. But we’re not talking about me. I was skating on the wrong side of the law. You were supposed to be good kids.”
“Yeah, well good kids rebel against parental authority, too.”
In his case, it hadn’t been “parental authority.” It had been any authority, but he didn’t feel the need to correct her.
“And you did it at a place that only you and your friends knew about?”
“Right.” She knitted her fingers together in her lap. “That party isn’t the only thing I haven’t thought about in years. This whole deal is bringing back a bunch of memories I must have just edited out of my mind.”
“Who was raped?” he asked.
Olivia dragged in a breath and let it out.
For a moment he thought she wasn’t going to answer. Then she said in a low voice, “Angela.”
Max’s head snapped toward her. “And you didn’t think this was relevant information?”
“It may be relevant.”
“Who raped her?”
“She didn’t know.”
“Why not?”
“People drank out there, and someone must have put something in her drink. You know, like that date-rape drug.”
“But a bunch of people must have been around. Didn’t anyone notice who she was with?”
Olivia sighed. “She never said. Maybe she knew and didn’t want to go through what it would take to press charges.”
He thought about the explanation. And he could see it from the point of view of a teenage girl.
“And she told you about it later?”
“Yes. And later there was a rumor circulating that a girl was raped, but most people didn’t know who it was.”
“So she could have been lying about it.”
Olivia’s jaw tightened. “Why would she lie about something like that?”
“To get herself out of some other kind of other trouble?”
“How does rape get you out of trouble?” she snapped, unable to keep herself from reacting.
“Well, if she’d gotten pregnant and didn’t want to admit she’d been fooling around.”
“She wasn’t pregnant.”
“You’re sure.”
She took her lower lip between her teeth. “Well, I don’t know for sure, but if she was, she hid it pretty well.”
“Claiming you were raped would be a way to call attention to yourself.”
Olivia’s expression turned angry. “Listen, Max, give it a rest. The stuff you’re suggesting doesn’t make any sense to me. Angela was upset. She needed to talk to someone. I thought it was true. Can we stop talking about it now?”
He knew the conversation was upsetting her, which might mean that pressing her would draw out information she was deliberately holding back. On the other hand, he had to work with her until they solved the murders. And he needed her to trust him. More than that, he needed her to feel that it was safe to confide in him. He pulled back a little, taking the focus off Angela. “But somehow word got around?”
“Someone left a note at the hangout saying a girl had been raped.”
“Interesting. Who would that have been besides her? Or you? If nobody else knew about it.”
“The guy who did it.”
“What would be his motivation?”
“Maybe he wanted to have private parties out there, and he wanted to keep other people away.”
“That’s what you really think?”
“You asked me a bunch of questions, I was trying to come up with answers.”
Max felt the tension crackling in the car. He was sure there was more to the story—facts he’d have to drag out of Olivia.
He started with, “Let’s go see the place.”
“I haven’t been there in years.”
“But you know how to find it.”
“Yes.”
He started the engine. “Give me directions.”
“I’ll bet you know where it is,” she whispered.
“What’s that?”
“You might not have gone there, but you probably knew about it.”
He sighed. “Okay, yeah. But I never tried to find it.”
“Why not?”
“What would I have done there—hung out with the rich kids?”
“I guess not.” She swallowed hard, then said, “You know where Wilkins Dam Road is?”
“Yes.”
“Head that way.”
He pulled onto the blacktop and drove back to the Winters’ farm, where he turned around and headed toward the area where the Suburban Sanitary Commission had built a reservoir and a dam and then planted the woods along the reservoir with thousands of azalea bushes. In the springtime, people flocked there. It was a showplace bursting with the color of the blossoms that rivaled the National Arboretum in D.C. During the rest of the year it was a pleasant place for nature walks.
From the corner of his eye, Max saw Olivia sitting rigidly next to him. He pretended that he wasn’t watching her as he turned onto the two-lane highway that led to the dam, which had been built in the early ’40s. The road ran through a hilly area that had once been completely rural. But as more people had moved to Howard County, builders had taken advantage of the forested lots.
All the development made him wonder if the hideout had been abandoned in the wake of approaching civilization. Then they entered a wooded area with no houses that was probably part of the reservoir property.
He saw Olivia tense and wondered if she was going to let him drive on past. Instead she murmured, “Slow down.”
He slowed and she pointed toward a gravel track that led off into the trees.
He turned right and stopped when he encountered a chain stretched across the one-lane road. Hanging from the middle of it was a rusty sign that said “No Trespassing.”
“I guess we can’t go up there,” she whispered, sounding like the sign was going to stop them cold.
“You kids ignored the sign.”
“Yes,” she murmured.
“We’ll be quick,” he answered. “How far is it?”
She raised one shoulder. “I never measured it. I guess it’s less than a quarter of a mile.”
“Walking won’t be a big deal.”
For a long moment, he thought she was debating whether to refuse or send him up there himself. Finally, an expression of resignation bloomed on her face as he turned the SUV around and pulled down the road about twenty-five yards to a small clearing beside the shoulder.
They both climbed out, then walked back
to the chain. Max scanned the highway, waiting until a car had passed before stepping around the barrier, looking back at Olivia.
She followed, and they silently started up the rutted gravel track, as the loose stones crunched under their running shoes. The road was narrow, with weeds and small saplings encroaching on either side. Max could see that the surface hadn’t been maintained recently, and he had the feeling that the site had long ago been abandoned—at least as far as its intended use was concerned.
“Did you all walk up here or drive?” he asked.
“We walked. But usually we parked farther down the road and came through the woods,” Olivia volunteered.
Max thought she could have told him about that strategy earlier but didn’t bother to voice the complaint. Her body language and lack of conversation told him she obviously didn’t want to be here.
But he couldn’t stop himself from making a comment about the location. “So you all drank up here?”
“And did pot,” she admitted.
“Did they do pot at that party, too?”
“Yes,” she snapped.
“Why didn’t you mention it before?”
“I wasn’t thinking about it. Do you think it’s a big deal?”
“Not really.”
“Good.”
Did that mean she’d been into it? He had when he was in high school, but he didn’t volunteer that information as they walked uphill, farther into the shade of the trees, the highway noises receding behind them.
As they walked farther into the woods, he was thinking, So this was where the rich kids hung out when they wanted to be alone. And now one of the rich kids was leading him up here. Only she wasn’t really rich the way he’d assumed—from her being with the in crowd and from her clothes. Now it turned out that her mom had made her clothes. He’d assumed she was out of his league back then. And it had been true—if for no other reason than that hanging out with him would have been out of the question for anyone in the in crowd. Now she was truly a lot farther above him than when they’d been teenagers. He had a respectable job. But he couldn’t really see a model with a big-time career hanging out with a PI.
He snorted.
“What?”
“I was thinking about assumptions I’d made.”
“You mean when we were kids?”