“Yes, that’s right.”
Maggie could hear puzzlement in her voice. “Do you remember what year that was?”
King hesitated. “Well, hang on, let me think. That was the summer after my junior year at San Jose State.”
She rattled off the year, and Maggie wrote down the numbers on the notepad in front of her. It was the year she’d expected the woman to say. That was the same year Denise Forseth had left home to join the Air Force. The same year that the party crawl happened. The same year Andrea Forseth had been raped on the second floor of a house in West Duluth. There were no coincidences.
“Tell me what you remember about Ned back then.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you said he didn’t date much, had an inferiority complex, no personal life. Was that true when you first met him?”
“I guess so, yes.”
“Was he a jealous type? Did he resent men who had better luck with women?”
“I don’t understand what this has to do with anything, Sergeant.”
“I know, Ms. King, but please just answer my question.”
“Okay. Yes, Ned could be very bitter about things like that. That was one of the less attractive sides of his personality.”
“One more question. Before Ned came out to do the investigation into Devin Card, did he mention whether he’d ever been to Duluth?”
“In fact, he told me a couple of times that he’d never visited Duluth before. Now what is this about, Sergeant?”
“When I can tell you more, I’ll be in touch,” Maggie replied.
She hung up the phone.
The next thing she did was run a Google search to track down a Wikipedia listing of concert dates for the ZZ Top tour thirty years earlier. Everything in the world was online. She ran through the tour dates for that summer, and there it was.
August 21.
Duluth, Minnesota. The DECC Arena.
Ned Baer had lied to his editor. He’d been in Duluth when he was a roadie for the band. He’d been in Duluth the exact same night that Andrea had been raped.
No coincidences.
“Hello, Maggie. Working late?”
She looked up and saw the trim figure of Dan Erickson in her doorway, with the lights of police headquarters glowing behind him. He came into her dark office, sat down across from her, and put his glistening leather shoes on her desk. She was soaking wet from being outside in the storm, but Dan was dry and perfect. He gave her his usual cocky grin.
“Was that Debbi King you were talking to? What’s going on? Did you learn something new?”
“There was no witness,” Maggie told him.
“What?”
Maggie got up from her chair and leaned on the corner of her desk next to Dan, not caring that her wet hair dripped on his shoes. “Ned told Stride that he had an anonymous witness who saw Devin and Andrea go upstairs together. He didn’t. He was the witness.”
“What the hell are you saying?”
She explained everything she’d discovered. Her conversation with Adam Halka. The stranger from the ZZ Top concert tour tagging along on the party crawl. That same stranger—jumpy and weird—hauling Adam out of the party and crashing his father’s car on his way home because he was so upset.
“It was Ned Baer,” Maggie insisted. “He was there. He was at that same party. Think about it. Here’s this guy who’s a stranger in town, drunk, sexually frustrated, bitter, angry. He sees Devin and Andrea making out, and he’s wild with jealousy. They go upstairs, but then Devin comes back alone. So he figures he has a golden opportunity. He goes upstairs and finds the girl passed out on the bed. The room is dark. He assaults her. Ned Baer is the one who raped Andrea.”
“You’ll never prove that.”
“Maybe not, but it makes sense. It fits. Years later, Ned reads the story about the rape accusation against Devin Card, and he realizes that he knows all about it. All the details match with what happened that night. He knows that he was the one up in that bedroom, not Devin. For years, he’s been worried about the rape being exposed, but instead, he finds out that Andrea thought it was someone else the whole time! She was so drunk that she never realized that Devin left and a stranger came up to the room and took his place.”
Dan frowned, but Maggie knew that frown. He knew she was right.
“As a journalist, Ned figures this is a gift wrapped story,” she went on. “He knows details about the assault that nobody else does. He knows when the party happened. He knows what the girl looked like. He’s got a head start in trying to find her. That’s why he was able to locate Andrea when none of the other reporters could.”
Dan pursed his lips. “You really think you’re right about this?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Devin’s innocent? Ned’s the one who actually raped her?”
“Right. Ned was all set to destroy Devin’s career for a crime he committed himself.”
“Twisted son of a bitch.” Dan stood up and grabbed a tissue from her desk and wiped off each of his shoes individually. Then he stood uncomfortably close to her, the way he always did.
“We still have a problem,” he said.
Maggie nodded. “I know. We still have no idea who killed him.”
* * * * *
Colleen held Cat’s hand as she dragged her through the crowd. Cat looked back over her shoulder, knowing that Stride had spotted her. Over the heads of the people around them, she saw Stride talking to Brayden from the stage, and she could read his face. He was furious. She tried to slow Colleen down, but the other girl had surprising strength.
“Where are we going?” Cat asked impatiently.
“Bathroom. Come on. If we lose each other in here, we’ll never find each other again.”
Colleen yanked Cat through the open doors on the west side of the ballroom. In the corridor, there was a little bit more breathing space among the people and more fresh air. Behind them, Cat could hear an eruption of cheers and jeers and the boom of a microphone over the speakers. The town hall was finally getting underway. Devin Card was being introduced.
“It’s starting,” Cat said. “We should go back in.”
“Two minutes.”
Colleen aimed for the door to the women’s restroom, and she and Cat went inside. Two other women left as they entered, and they had the bathroom to themselves, just a line-up of sinks and two rows of empty stalls. In here, the voices from the convention center were a muffled, indistinct chatter. Colleen put a finger over her lips to keep Cat quiet, then went into one of the middle stalls. Instead of letting go, she hauled Cat inside with her and locked the door behind them.
“You can’t do this yourself?” Cat asked, with a crinkle of annoyance on her forehead. Her back was to the door.
Colleen whispered, and her voice had a hollow echo. “No, silly. I need to tell you something. It’s important.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a secret.”
“Are you drunk, Colly? Because you’re acting weird.”
“No, no, no, no, oh Cat, this is so important. I know you don’t remember me, but I remember the very first time I saw you in math class. I couldn’t take my eyes off you! You looked so amazing, you were so smart. But I couldn’t even talk to you. I was too tongue-tied. I get that way sometimes, or at least, I used to. It was that way with Karen, too.”
“Who’s Karen?”
“Karen! I told you about Karen! Before I came to Duluth, I lived in Madison. That was during my first two years in high school. There was this girl, Karen, and same thing like you, she was so pretty, so smart. My sophomore year, we took all the same classes, went out for the same teams, hung out in the same coffee shops. I told you, she was stalking me!”
“She? Your stalker was a girl?”
“Yeah, but Karen told the police it was
me. She told them I kept sending her notes, kept following her. But she had it all wrong. That was my way of letting her know how cool she was. How much I loved her. She didn’t want to admit that she loved me, too. That she was obsessed with me. But I knew.”
A tremble wracked Cat’s body down to her toes. The truth washed over her like cold rain. “I need to go. Let me out of here.”
But Colleen was in front of her, backing Cat up to the door of the stall, her hands pinning Cat’s arms against her body. “No, no, no, I haven’t told you the secret yet! You can’t leave! Oh, I was such a mess back then, so shy. I’ve grown up since then. I’m different now, but you can see that, can’t you? Karen didn’t understand. She didn’t appreciate what was going on between us. But that was my fault, because I couldn’t tell her face to face. That would have made all the difference. If you love someone, you have to tell them. That was why it didn’t work out with Karen.”
“What happened to her?” Cat asked in a stricken voice.
“Karen? She disappeared. She was one of those people in the magazines. You know, like I told you about. ‘Whatever Happened to Karen Lopez?’ Of course, the police thought I had something to do with it. Everybody in school did. But that was silly, they could never prove anything. Even so, I decided it was better for me to leave. I was done with Madison, so that’s when I came to Duluth. I just packed up everything and went away.”
“You left? What about your parents?”
“Oh, my dad died when I was twelve. Somebody shot him. The stupid police never figured out who. And then the same thing happened to my mom right when I was moving to Duluth. Weird, huh? But I didn’t need her anymore. I just buried her in a field and left town.”
“Holy shit,” Cat murmured. She tried to push Colleen away, but the girl grabbed Cat’s wrists and held on tight.
“Where are you going, sweetheart? We’re finally together! I’ve waited so long! Seeing you at the cottage today? I could barely stop myself from making love to you right then and there. But I knew we needed to get away first. Soon, darling. Soon we’ll be together forever. I told you, I’m packed, just like I was in Madison. We can go tonight.”
Colleen kissed Cat roughly and molded her body against her. She let go of one of Cat’s wrists and stroked her body everywhere. Under her shirt. Down the back of her shorts. And then in the front, invading between her legs. Cat squirmed to get away, but Colleen had her imprisoned.
“See? I can tell you the secret now. I can finally show you. I love you, Cat. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. And you don’t have to pretend anymore. You love me, too. I know you do. That first night at Hoops, I could see how you looked at me. Wow, what a relief that was! To see how much you wanted me, just like I wanted you!”
“You’re nuts,” Cat said. “You’re out of your mind. Let me go!”
Colleen’s face twisted in unhappy confusion. “What’s the matter, my love? What’s wrong? Are you still scared of Wyatt? Do you think he’s going to come between us? You don’t have to worry about him. I took care of him for you.”
“You took care of him? Oh, my God, what did you do?”
Colleen squeezed Cat into the corner of the stall. The girl dug into her purse and came out with a black semi-automatic pistol in her hand. She placed the side of the barrel gently against Cat’s temple. The burnt smell of the gun was in Cat’s nose, and she knew it had been fired recently.
“Wyatt won’t bother you anymore, my love.”
“Oh, shit, you killed him!”
“I had to! I didn’t have a choice! He’ll never stalk you again.”
“But that was you!”
“Me? No, no, what I sent you were love letters. I could see how Wyatt looked at you. He was obviously infatuated with you, that little pervert. I had to do something about that. The same with that cop, Brayden. The two of you kissing on the hillside? That was very naughty, Cat. I was pretty upset with you for cheating on me like that. I confess I lost my temper. But then I realized it was his fault, not yours. You’re too pure. You’re too beautiful. He’s the one who tempted you. I was shooting at him, not you.”
Cat felt tears running down her face. “Colleen, put down the gun. Please. Put it away.”
“I need the gun to protect us, Cat! This way, no one will stop us or get in our way. I told you, we can go right now. My car’s outside. It will be hours before anyone realizes we’re missing. By that time, we can be anywhere. It’s going to be amazing, Cat. You and me on the road. Like ghosts. You’ll be on the cover of People again, and this time, I’ll be with you. Everyone will be looking for us, but no one will ever find us. We’ll be legends. Come away with me, Cat!”
Cat breathed hard. She needed an escape. Just one moment to buy her freedom. “Okay.”
“Really?”
“Yes. You’re right. Let’s go quickly. Before anyone sees us.”
“Oh, Cat, yes! I knew you’d understand. But first, tell me you love me. Please, sweetheart. I need to hear you say it. I need to see those perfect lips of yours form the words.”
“With a gun to my head, Colly? Really?”
Colleen giggled. “Oh, sorry! I forgot!”
She pointed the barrel of the gun at the bathroom floor. She took a step back, and Cat came forward, her fingers around the girl’s neck, caressing her skin. She leaned in, her lips breathing warmly on Colleen’s mouth.
“I love you,” Cat said.
“I knew you did. I knew it. Say my name.”
“I love you, Colly.”
“Yes, oh yes, kiss me. Kiss me.”
Colleen closed her eyes, waiting breathlessly, hungrily. Cat brushed her lips against the other girl’s mouth, and Colleen sank backward on weak knees. This was the moment.
With a hand on the girl’s cheek, Cat slammed Colleen’s head into the metal wall of the stall as hard as she could.
Blood flew. Bone cracked. Colleen unleashed a guttural scream of pain and rage.
Cat spun around, unlocked the door of the stall, and ran.
35
Devin Card stared at the unruly crowd, the way he had hundreds of times in his career. The supporters tried to drown out the protesters, and the protesters raised their voices in response. Card tightened the knot in his tie, smiled, waved, and walked from one end of the stage to the other, bending down to shake hands. Town halls fed his ego, regardless of whether people were cheering him or screaming at him, but tonight he was nervous. He wondered if it showed on his face as he sweated under the bright lights.
For the first time in his career, he didn’t know what to say. His entire future hung in the balance in the next few minutes, and the pressure weighed on him. Every word, every expression, every twitch of his mouth or blink of his eyes, would be analyzed and reanalyzed by the press in the months ahead.
Come November, he would either be Senator Devin Card, or Devin Card, private citizen.
Devin Card, rapist.
He stepped up to the microphone in the very center of the stage and held up both hands for quiet, but that didn’t work. The roar became rhythmic chanting. Loyalists shouted his name: “De-vin, De-vin, De-vin, De-vin.” He grinned, soaking it all in. When he glanced to his right, he saw Peter Stanhope and several of his senior aides waiting on the far side of the stage. They smiled back at him and gave him the thumbs up. But they were nervous, too.
“Hello, Duluth!” Card bellowed into the microphone, his voice booming through the convention center.
The crowd wouldn’t let him talk. The noise got louder.
“It’s great to be back home in the Zenith City!” he said, trying again, smiling as the shouts drowned him out. He raised his hands to settle them down, and he repeated his greeting multiple times. It took several minutes before the deafening tumult in the ballroom began to fade, like the keynote at a political convention.
Final
ly, he had the floor.
“Hello, Duluth!” Card said again, trying to sound casual and relaxed. “And thank you to everyone for showing up here tonight, with your questions, with your encouragement, with your support. And yes, with your opposition, too.”
A small spat broke out in the crowd but was silenced. Card used the pause to focus on the faces nearest to the front of the stage. In his mind, he isolated the women who were the right age and tried to read their eyes. He tried to see what they were thinking as they looked at him. Was she there? Was the woman looking back at him right now? He needed to decide how to react when she stood up and announced herself, and he still didn’t know.
What to do. What to say.
His staff had told him: Wait.
Don’t bring it up. Wait until the woman comes forward. Maybe she won’t show. Maybe this was all a ruse, another chance to change the subject from politics to his past. Until there was a real human being to put a face to the accusation, he should pretend it didn’t exist.
He took a deep breath. He launched into his remarks, using the script his staff had worked up for him. The teleprompter scrolled the words, and he followed the plan.
“An election isn’t about me,” Card told the crowd. “It may be my name on the ballot, but elections are about all of you. They’re about making choices. Making sacrifices. Deciding the kind of life we want for ourselves, for our families, for our friends and neighbors, and figuring out how to lay the groundwork for the next generation. We don’t always agree about the best ways to do that, but that’s okay. As long as we listen to each other, disagreement makes us stronger. Addressing the concerns of our opponents makes our plans better. That’s why I’m here. To talk about those things. To listen to you. To hear what you think, what you have to say, what you like and don’t like, what you’re afraid of, and what you’re excited about.”
Card stopped.
He had a lot more to say, but he let the silence draw out. The teleprompter froze where it was, waiting for him to continue. His staff exchanged uncomfortable glances. So did the people in the crowd. The longer he stood there without speaking, the more people began to shuffle on their feet and wonder what was going.
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