“Did you observe Mr. Stoner’s behavior during this time?” Dan asked.
“When I saw them together, he was real nice to her. Same as always. Although, I don’t know, it was like he was trying too hard. Like right around the start of the school year, Mr. Stoner bought Rachel a new car.”
Stride frowned. Something about Rachel’s car bothered him. He remembered feeling that way from the beginning. But they had searched it thoroughly and found nothing.
“Did that make Rachel happy?”
Kevin shook his head. “No. I mean, she liked the car okay. She always hated driving that old hand-me-down from her mother. But she was sort of sarcastic about the new car. She said Mr. Stoner had to buy it for her, he didn’t have a choice.”
“Did she say what that meant?”
“No.”
“And was this the car she was driving on the last night you saw her?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, Kevin, let’s talk about that night. Tell us what happened.”
Kevin described the events in Canal Park with Rachel and Sally the way he had originally told them to Stride.
“Please describe Rachel’s emotional state. How did she seem to you?”
“Normal. Happy. Not upset or anything.”
“Was it just an ordinary evening?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, what about the next day, Kevin?” Dan asked.
“Well, Rachel asked if I wanted to go out on Saturday night. But when I showed up at her house, she had disappeared.”
“Did you talk to the defendant?”
“Yes. I told him I had a date with Rachel. He said he didn’t know where she was. He told me he hadn’t seen her that day.”
“And where was Rachel’s car?”
“It was parked right outside. I couldn’t understand where Rachel would be if she didn’t have her car.”
Dan nodded. “Did you tell Mr. Stoner this?”
“Sure. I said that was really strange. It wasn’t like Rachel at all. I asked if we should call someone.”
“What did he say?”
Kevin shot an angry look at Graeme. “He said no, there was no reason for concern. He said Rachel was probably just playing games with me like she did with everyone else.”
“When Rachel made the date with you on Friday, did it feel like a game?”
“No, she was serious. We were planning to go out.”
“When Rachel left you that night, what did she say?”
“She said she was going home. She was tired.”
“Did she mention going anywhere else or meeting anyone else?”
“No.”
“Did she seem upset, anxious, distraught?”
“No.”
“So once again, as far as you were concerned, it was an ordinary night.”
Kevin nodded. “That’s right.”
“Thank you, Kevin.”
Gale stood up.
“Kevin, you called this an ordinary night. Is that right?” Gale asked, allowing a faint rumor of disbelief into his voice.
“Sure.”
“Okay. Now let’s see, you said when you first saw Rachel, she was standing on the railing of the bridge.”
“Yes.”
“It was windy and rainy.”
Kevin nodded. “It was an awful night.”
“So Rachel was standing on a narrow railing, with the icy water below her, and the wind blowing like crazy? Do I have the picture?”
“That’s right.”
“She could easily have been killed, couldn’t she?”
“I guess.”
Gale’s eyebrows rose. “You guess? Kevin, you were terrified, weren’t you? You ran to save her.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Had she ever climbed up on the bridge like that before, that you know of?” Gale asked.
“No.”
“Why, on that night of all nights, would she have been risking death?”
“I don’t know,” Kevin said.
Gale continued. “You said Rachel made sexual advances toward you that night?”
“Yes.”
“In front of your girlfriend?”
Kevin frowned. “Well, Sally was on the ground. We were up on the bridge.”
“But she could see you, couldn’t she?”
“I suppose.”
“Had Rachel ever done something like this to you before?”
Kevin shook his head. “No.”
“So, on this night of all nights, she makes a sexual advance on her oldest friend, someone she’s known her whole life, for the first and only time?”
“Yes.” Kevin’s voice was almost inaudible.
“I see. Now, about the date. Was this the first time Rachel had asked you out?”
Kevin nodded. “Yes.”
“The first time ever?”
“Yes.”
“So again, on this night of all nights, Rachel decides for the first and only time to ask you out on a date.”
“That’s right.”
Gale smiled. “So really, there wasn’t anything ordinary about that night, was there?”
Kevin hesitated. “I guess not.”
“Why was Rachel behaving so strangely?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay, Kevin. Let’s talk about something else. You knew Kerry McGrath, didn’t you? The other girl who disappeared two years ago?”
“Objection!” Dan practically screamed. “Counsel’s question is irrelevant and outside the scope of direct examination.”
Judge Kassel slammed her gavel down, and Stride thought she enjoyed the opportunity to do so. She eyed Dan impatiently. “Settle down, Mr. Erickson.”
Then the judge stared down at Gale. Her attractive jaw settled in a hard line, but her eyes were intrigued. “Now, Mr. Gale, please tell me you have a point to this question. Because, despite counsel’s outburst, I’m inclined to sustain his objection.”
Gale knew he had piqued her interest—and the jury’s, too.
“I hope the court will indulge me a little while on this line, Your Honor. I want to explore some facts that will play a vital role in my defense. The prosecution’s witnesses have testified that there is no link between Kerry’s and Rachel’s disappearances. I wish to impeach those conclusions, and that is certainly relevant. What’s more, Mr. Erickson opened the door by exploring the witness’s personal relationship with Rachel. I’m entitled to explore whether he had a personal relationship with another girl who disappeared under similar circumstances.”
Kassel’s lips curled into an almost imperceptible smile. Stride couldn’t tell whether she was enjoying the drama or savoring the possibility that Gale might have an ace up his sleeve with which to embarrass Dan.
“We’ll indulge you briefly, Mr. Gale. Very briefly.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Gale said.
In the silence that followed, the whole courtroom focused its cold attention on Kevin, squirming in the witness stand. Gale repeated the question.
“Sure, I knew her. We were in the same class.”
“Did the two of you ever go out on a date?”
“No,” Kevin said.
“Did you ask her out, and she said no?”
“No.” His voice was a whisper.
“Your Honor,” Dan pleaded.
“Mr. Gale?” Judge Kassel demanded. “Our indulgence is running out.”
Gale shot his next question in quickly. “Did she ever ask you out?”
Dan rose to object again, but before he could open his mouth, Kevin let out a giant sigh and said, “Yes.”
Dan slowly sank back into his seat. The jury and the rest of the courtroom were transfixed. Judge Kassel put her gavel down and eased back into her chair.
“When did Kerry ask you out?” Gale asked.
“It was the week before she disappeared.”
A murmur swept through the courtroom.
Stride glanced at Maggie. She looked back at him in confusion. They
had worked the McGrath case inside and out, and Kevin’s name had never come up. There was no evidence the two of them had ever been together. Then, a second later, they understood.
“Did you say yes?” Gale asked.
Kevin shook his head. “No. I told her I was already seeing Sally.”
“So you never actually went out together?”
“No.”
“How did Kerry take the rejection?” Gale asked.
“She was okay about it. She said maybe another time.”
Gale nodded. “How about Sally? How did she like the idea of another girl asking you out? Just like Rachel did that night.”
“She was kind of pissed off. I told her it was nothing. We didn’t talk about it again.”
“And a week later, Kerry disappeared, just like Rachel did.”
Kevin swallowed. “Yes.”
“You don’t have very good luck with girls asking you out, do you, Kevin?”
Dan shouted another objection, and this time Kassel directed her anger at Gale, sustaining the objection and instructing the jury to ignore the question. Gale raised his arms in surrender.
“I don’t have any more questions for you, Kevin,” Gale said quietly.
Before Kevin could get up, Dan quickly got to his feet. “Redirect, Your Honor.”
Judge Kassel nodded. “Go ahead.”
“Kevin, please tell the court where you were on the night Kerry McGrath disappeared.”
“I was in Florida. I was at Disney World with my parents.”
“And on the night Rachel disappeared, what did you do after she left you in Canal Park?”
“I went home.”
“Did you see your parents there?”
Kevin nodded. “We watched a movie on television in the living room until after midnight.”
“Thank you, Kevin.”
“What the fuck was all that about?” Dan demanded, taking a bite from a portobello sandwich. “‘A vital part of his defense?’”
Stride played with a paper clip, folding and unfolding it. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? He’s going to try to paint Sally as a jealous serial killer. ‘Anyone comes after my boyfriend, they disappear.’”
“But you told me that’s a nonstarter,” Dan said. “You said she’s got an alibi.”
Stride nodded. “She does. I don’t know where he thinks he’s going with this, but he obviously thinks he can make it play with the jury.”
“Well, if I yank Sally off our list, we can’t put Graeme at the barn. Besides, Gale will just call her himself, which will make us look like we’re trying to hide something. That means in half an hour she goes on the stand. So you tell me, could this girl have done it? Should I be concerned?”
Maggie shook her head. “No way. I’ve talked to the girl. She may be a jealous bitch when it comes to Kevin, but I don’t see her taking girls off the street and killing them. And she wasn’t making it up about Graeme and the barn. I talked to her. The girl was telling the truth.”
“Then why the hell does Gale seem to think this is his Get Out of Jail Free card?” Dan asked. “Do we know where Sally was when Kerry disappeared?”
“No,” Stride said. “Her name never came up.”
“We know she wasn’t with Kevin,” Maggie pointed out slyly. “You made sure of that on redirect. He was in Florida.”
Stride intervened before Dan could explode. “She didn’t do it, Dan. But you can bet Gale has already checked, and Sally doesn’t have an alibi for that night. Or she doesn’t remember where she was. Hell, it was almost two years ago. It’s still smoke and mirrors. A coincidence. Give the girl a chance. She convinced Maggie. She’ll convince the jury, too.”
Dan slammed his briefcase shut and gave Maggie a malevolent stare. “All right. We don’t change our strategy. We ignore the Kerry McGrath issue. By my estimate, we’re still ahead on points. If the jury went out now, they might think about it for a while, but they’d convict. But if Gale can muddle their brains with another false suspect, he might talk them into reasonable doubt. And let me make one thing very clear. If we lose this case, the two of you are going to be scraping bird shit off statues in public parks for the next ten years. So you better damn well hope you’ve given me enough to put this pervert behind bars.”
Stride and Maggie exchanged glances. They were both thinking the same thing.
What was Gale up to?
Or worse, what had they missed?
27
Jerry Gull couldn’t take it anymore. He had to go. Badly. And there was still a long stretch of empty road between him and Duluth.
He had guzzled coffee throughout the four-hour seminar in Hibbing, then rushed out of the hotel without using the bathroom. Jerry had a phobia about public bathrooms and generally didn’t go anywhere except at home or at the office. Normally, he would have made it home from Hibbing in plenty of time, but he was delayed by another hour on his return trip because he had to pick up Brunswick.
Brunswick was his girlfriend Arlene’s dog, a Newfoundland who weighed more than Jerry. Stretched out, he was probably taller than Jerry, too.
Arlene had been married for a short time. In the divorce, her ex-husband, who had a small hobby farm outside Hibbing, was awarded custody of the dog. Jerry had never met Brunswick, but he made the ultimate miscalculation of talking to Arlene about his seminar, and she, in turn, had cajoled him into a promise to stop at her ex-husband’s farm and bring Brunswick to her for a long weekend at her sister’s place just south of the city.
That was why, squeezed into the backseat of his Toyota Corolla, was a black moose the size of Canada.
Almost immediately the coffee began to work its magic. Jerry tried not to think about it and instead just drove faster. It wouldn’t have been hard to stop at a fast food restaurant along the way, but he wasn’t ready to confront his phobia, and he wasn’t sure he could get out of the car without Brunswick escaping.
By the time he began to dance in his seat, squirming to push his legs together, he was in the woods, a long way from any town. There was something about the dog, too, that made the urge to go even worse. He could smell him and feel him puffing, hot and foul, against his neck. The dog dispensed at least a gallon of drool, most of it down the shoulder of Jerry’s blue suit. His slobbering face rubbed against Jerry’s cheek affectionately and refused to leave him alone.
There was simply not enough room in the car for him, his bladder, and Brunswick.
Jerry eyed the shoulder of the highway, and like a miracle, a quarter mile ahead, he saw exactly what he wanted, a dirt country road winding back into the forest in the middle of nowhere. It looked like a road that got no traffic at all, except for an occasional farmer or hunter cutting over to a parallel highway.
He turned onto the dirt road, and the Corolla bounced and rocked. Brunswick’s jowls swung in a peculiarly compelling rhythm, spraying the car with drool. Some of it slopped onto Jerry’s glasses, and he rubbed them clean with his hand, groaning in disgust. Jerry drove more than a mile down the dirt road, finding a place where the forest was thick with birches and there wasn’t a sign of humanity anywhere.
His body was bursting with streams, rivers, waterfalls, and every kind of torrential, rushing body of water. He wasn’t sure he was going to make it.
Jerry swung open the driver’s door and literally ran from the car. He hurried around to the right-side shoulder, ran down into the trees, and began clutching for his zipper. His clumsy fingers reached for his penis and missed, and his eyes rolled as he tried to free it from within his briefs. Finally, blissfully, he got it out, where it began flooding immediately onto the spongy ground. He didn’t have to hold it or point it; it just doused the brush on its own like a fire hose.
The relief was so great his eyes teared up.
Then, when he was almost done, something huge and heavy hit him from behind, sending Jerry sprawling. He twisted and landed on his back on the wet ground—ground he had made wet—and meanwhile, his penis was still busily doi
ng its work, spurting like a broken sprinkler over his pants, shirt, tie, and face. Jerry screamed, so caught up in the horror of the moment that he barely realized the culprit who had attacked him was Brunswick, shooting like a cannon deep into the forest.
“Brunswick!” Jerry bellowed, unleashing some of his anger.
He pushed himself off the ground, looking down at his sodden clothes. He couldn’t believe it. It was a nightmare. The worst part was, he had probably lost the dog forever, and Arlene would never forgive him. He really thought about getting into the car, driving away, and never going home.
Woof!
He heard a deep bark somewhere in the distance. Brunswick wasn’t gone for good, but he wasn’t very close by. By the sound of it, he was at least a hundred yards deep in the forest. Jerry called the dog again, then waited, hoping to hear the thunder of paws (which were more like hooves) trampling the ground as the dog rushed back.
No such luck.
Woof!
Jerry sighed and started hiking. He kept calling for Brunswick, and the dog would periodically answer, helping Jerry to home in on him. Jerry was wet and dirty, and he smelled. The earth was soggy, and the tree branches scraped at his clothes and skin. His shoes were covered in mud. To add insult to injury, it was starting to rain.
“Brunswick!” Jerry called. He was losing patience.
Woof!
Jerry turned in the direction of the latest bark, squinting to see between the birch trees. This time, he caught a glimpse of a black beast, nose to the ground, paws digging frantically in the soft earth.
“Finally,” he muttered.
He came up on the dog softly, not wanting to spook him and send him running away again, but Brunswick was intent on his work and didn’t seem to notice Jerry at all. The dog had found something of great interest in a tiny clearing, and he was scooping out the ground with gusto. Every now and then, he would shove his whole huge head into the hole he had created.
Jerry reached down tentatively, taking the dog’s collar in his hand.
“You are a bad dog,” he said, stroking the matted black fur.
Brunswick, finally feeling Jerry beside him, looked up happily, drool spilling from his jowls. The Newfoundland’s broad mouth clutched something long and white.
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