Gone for Good (2002)

by Harlan Coben

  "Yeah, sure," I said. I waited for him to say more. He smiled.

  "What?"

  "Just remembering camp," he said.

  I smiled too.

  "I loved it here," he said.

  "Me too," I agreed. "Ken?"

  "What?"

  "How did you manage to hide for so long?"

  He chuckled softly. Then he said, "Carly."

  "Carly helped you hide?"

  "My not telling anyone about her. I think it saved my life."

  "How's that?"

  "Everyone was looking for a fugitive on the run. That meant a single man. Or maybe a man who hooked up with a girl. What no one was looking for and what could travel from spot to spot and remain invisible to law enforcement was a family of three."

  Again it made sense.

  "The feds were lucky to catch me. I got careless. Or, I don't know, sometimes I think that maybe I wanted to be caught. Living like we were, always in fear, never putting down solid roots ... it wears on you, Will. I missed you all so much. You most of all. Maybe I did let my guard down. Or maybe I needed it to end."

  " So they extradited you ?"

  "Yeah."

  "And you cut another deal."

  "I thought they were going to pin Julie's murder on me for sure. But when I met up with Pistillo, well, he still wanted McGuane so badly.

  Julie was almost an afterthought. And they knew I hadn't done it. So ..." He shrugged.

  Ken talked then about New Mexico, about how he had never told the feds about Carly and Sheila, still protecting them. "I didn't want them to come back that early," he said, his voice softer now. "But Sheila wouldn't listen."

  Ken told me about how he and Carly had been out of the house when the two men came by, how he came home and found them torturing his beloved, how he killed both men, and once again, how he ran. He told me how he stopped at the same pay phone and called Nora at my apartment that would be the second call the FBI knew about. "I knew that they would come after her. Sheila's fingerprints were all over the house. If the feds didn't find her, McGuane might. So I told her she had to hide.

  Just until it was over."

  It took a couple of days for Ken to find a discreet doctor in Las Vegas. The doctor had done what he could, but it was too late. Sheila Rogers, his eleven-year companion, died the next day. Carly had been asleep in the back of the car when her mother drew her last breath. Not sure what else to do and hoping it would take pressure off Nora he put the body of his lover on the side of a road and drove away.

  Melissa and Dad hovered closer now. We all let in a little silence.

  "What then?" I asked softly.

  "I dropped Carly off with a friend of Sheila's. A cousin actually. I knew she'd be safe there. Then I started making my way east."

  And when he said that, when those words about making his way east left his mouth .. . that was when it all started to go wrong.

  Have you ever had one of those moments? You are listening, you are nodding, you are paying attention. Everything seems to be making sense and following a logical course, and then you see something, something small, something seemingly irrelevant, something almost worth overlooking and you realize with mounting dread that everything is terribly wrong.

  "We buried Mom on a Tuesday," I said.

  "What?"

  "We buried Mom on Tuesday," I repeated.

  "Right," Ken said.

  "You were in Las Vegas that day, right?"

  He thought about it. "That's right."

  I played it over in my head.

  "What is it? "Ken asked.

  "I don't get something."

  "What?"

  "On the afternoon of the funeral" I stopped, waited for him to face me, found his eyes "you were at the other graveyard with Katy Miller."

  Something flickered across his face. "What are you talking about?"

  "Katy saw you at the cemetery. You were standing under a tree near Julie's tombstone. You told Katy you were innocent. You told her you were back to find the real killer. How did you do that if you were on the other side of the country?"

  My brother did not respond then. We both stood there. I felt something inside me start shrinking even before I heard the voice that made my world teeter yet again.

  "I lied about that."

  We all turned as Katy Miller stepped out from behind the tree. I looked at her and said nothing. She moved closer.

  Katy had a gun in her hand.

  It was pointed at Ken's chest. My mouth dropped open. I heard Melissa gasp. I heard my father shout "No!" But that all seemed a light-year away. Katy looked directly at me, probing at me, trying to tell me something I could never understand.

  I shook my head.

  "I was only six years old," Katy said. "Easy enough to dismiss as a witness. What did I know anyway? Just a little kid, right? I saw your brother that night. But I saw John Asselta too. Maybe I mixed them up, the cops could say. How would a six-year-old know the difference between cries of passion and agony anyway? To a six-year-old, they're one and the same, aren't they? It was easy for Pistillo and his agents to finesse what I told them. They wanted McGuane. To them, my sister was just another suburban junkie."

  "What are you talking about?" I said.

  Her eyes turned to Ken. "I was there that night, Will. Hiding behind my father's old army trunk again. I saw everything." She looked at me again and I am not sure I ever saw such clear eyes.

  "John Asselta didn't murder my sister," she said. "Ken did."

  My support beams started giving way. I started shaking my head again.

  I looked at Melissa. Her face was white. I tried my father, but his head was down.

  Ken said, "You saw us making love."

  "No." Katy's voice was surprisingly steady. "You killed her, Ken. You chose strangulation because you wanted to pin it on the Ghost the same way you strangled Laura Emerson because she threatened to report the drug selling at Haverton."

  I stepped forward. Katy turned to me. I stopped.

  "When McGuane failed to kill Ken in New Mexico, I got a call from Asselta," she began. Katy spoke as if she'd been rehearsing these lines for a long time, which, I suspect, she had. "He told me how they had already captured your brother in Sweden. I didn't believe him at first. I said, if they caught him, how come we didn't know about it?

  He told me how the FBI wanted to let Ken off because he could still deliver McGuane. I was in shock. After all this time, they were going to let Julie's murderer just walk away? I couldn't allow that. Not after what my family had been through. Asselta knew that, I guess.

  That was why he contacted me."

  I was still shaking my head, but she pressed on.

  "My job was to stay close because we figured that if Ken contacted anybody, it would be you. I made up that story about seeing him at the graveyard, so you would trust me."

  I found my voice. "But you were attacked," I said. "In my apartment."

  "Yes," she said.

  "You even called out Asselta's name."

  "Think about that, Will." Her voice was so even, so confident.

  "Think about what?" I asked.

  "Why were you cuffed to the bed like that?"

  "Because he was going to set me up, the same way he set up "

  But now she was the one shaking her head. Katy gestured with the gun at Ken. "He cuffed you because he didn't want you to get hurt," she said.

  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

  "He needed to get me alone. He needed to find out what I'd told you to see what I'd remembered before he killed me. And yes, I called out John's name. Not because I thought it was him behind the mask. I called out to him for help. And you did save my life, Will. He would have killed me."

  My eyes slowly slid toward my brother. "She's lying," Ken said. "Why would I kill Julie? She was helping me."

  "That's almost true," Katy said. "And you're right: Julie did see Ken's arrest as a chance for redemption, just like he told you. And yes, J
ulie had agreed to help bring McGuane down. But your brother took it a step too far."

  "How? "I asked.

  "Ken knew that he had to get rid of the Ghost too. No loose ends. And the way to do that was to frame Asselta for Laura Emerson. Ken figured that Julie would have no problem going along with that. But he was wrong. You remember how close Julie and John were?"

  I managed a nod.

  "There was a bond there. I don't pretend to know why. I don't think either of them could explain it either. But Julie cared about him. I think she was the only one who ever did. She would bring down McGuane.

  She would do that gladly. But she would never hurt John Asselta."

  I couldn't speak.

  "That's bull," Ken said. "Will?"

  I did not look at him.

  Katy continued. "When Julie found out what Ken was going to do, she called the Ghost to warn him. Ken came to our house to get the tapes and files. She tried to stall him. They had sex. Ken asked for the evidence, but Julie refused to give it to him. He grew livid. He demanded to know where she had hidden it. She wouldn't tell him. When he realized what was up, he snapped and strangled her. The Ghost arrived seconds too late. He shot Ken as he ran away. I think he would have gone after him, but when he saw Julie dead on the floor, he just lost it. He fell to the floor. He cradled her head and let out the most anguished, inhuman wail I've ever heard. It was like something inside of him broke that would never be fixed."

  Katy closed the gap between us. She grabbed my gaze and would not let it go.

  "Ken didn't run because he was afraid of McGuane or of being framed or any of that," she said. "He ran because he killed Julie."

  I was tumbling down a deep shaft, reaching, trying to grab on to something. "But the Ghost," I said, flailing. "He kidnapped us...."

  "We set that up," she said. "He let us escape. What neither of us realized was that you'd be so willing and ready. That driver was only supposed to make it look good. We had no idea you'd hurt him so badly."

  "But why?"

  "Because the Ghost knew the truth."

  "What truth?"

  She again gestured toward Ken. "That your brother would never show just to save your life. He would never put himself in that danger.

  That something like this" she lifted her free hand "was the only way he'd ever agree to meet you."

  I shook my head again.

  "We had a man wait at the yard that night. Just in case. No one ever came."

  I stumbled back. I looked at Melissa. I looked at my father. And I knew that it was all true. Every word that she said. It was true.

  Ken had killed Julie.

  "I never meant to hurt you," Katy said to me. "But my family needs closure. The FBI had set him free. I had no choice. I couldn't let him get away with what he did to my sister."

  My father spoke for the first time. "So what are you going to do now, Katy? Are you just going to shoot him?"

  Katy said, "Yes."

  And that was when all hell broke loose again.

  My father made the sacrifice. He let out a cry and dove toward Katy.

  She fired the gun. My father staggered and continued toward her. He knocked the weapon from her hands. He also went down, holding his leg.

  But the distraction had been enough.

  When I looked up, Ken had whipped out his own gun. His eyes the ones I had described as pure ice were focused on Katy. He was going to shoot her. There was no hesitation. He just had to aim and pull the trigger.

  I jumped toward him. My hand hit his arm just as he pulled the trigger. The gun went off, but the shot was wild. I tackled my brother. We rolled on the ground again, but it was nothing like before. Not this time. He elbowed me in the stomach. It knocked the wind out of me. He rose. He pointed the gun at Katy.

  "No," I said.

  "I have to," Ken said.

  I grabbed him. We wrestled. I told Katy to run. Ken quickly took the advantage. He flipped me over. Our eyes met.

  "She's the last thread," he said.

  "I won't let you kill her."

  Ken put the barrel of the gun against my forehead. Our faces were no more than an inch apart. I heard Melissa scream. I told her to stay back. In the corner of my eye, I saw her take out a cell phone and start dialing.

  "Go ahead," I said. "Pull the trigger."

  "You think I won't?" he said.

  "You're my brother."

  "So?" And again I thought about evil, about the shapes it takes, how you are never truly safe from it. "Didn't you hear anything Katy said?

  Don't you understand what I'm capable of how many people I've hurt and betrayed?"

  "Not me," I said softly.

  He laughed, his face still inches from mine, the gun still pressed against my forehead. "What did you say?"

  "Not me," I repeated.

  Ken threw his head back. His laugh grew, echoing in the stillness. The sound chilled me like no other. "Not you?" he said. He lowered his lips toward me.

  "You," he whispered in my ear, "I've hurt and betrayed more than anyone."

  His words hit me like cinder blocks. I looked up at him. His face tensed and I was sure he was going to pull the trigger. I closed my eyes and waited. There were shouts and commotion, but all of that seemed very far away. What I heard now the only sound that really reached me was Ken crying. I opened my eyes. The world faded away.

  There was just the two of us.

  I can't say what happened exactly. Maybe it was the position I was in, on my back, helpless, and he, my brother, not my savior this time, not my protector, but looming over me, the cause of it all. Maybe Ken looked down and saw me vulnerable and something instinctive, something that had always needed to keep me safe, took over. Maybe that was what shook him. I don't know. But as our eyes met, his face began to soften, started shifting in degrees.

  And then it all changed again.

  I felt Ken's grip on me loosen, but he kept the gun against my forehead. "I want you to make me a promise, Will," he said.

  "What?"

  "It's about Carly."

  "Your daughter."

  Ken closed his eyes now, and I saw genuine anguish. "She loves Nora," he said. "I want you two to take care of her. You raise her. Promise me."

  " But what about ?"

  "Please," Ken said, his voice a desperate plea. "Please promise me."

  "Okay, I promise."

  "And promise me you'll never take her to see me."

  "What?"

  He was crying hard now. Tears ran down his cheeks, wetting both our faces. "Promise me, dammit. You never mention me to her. You raise her as your own. You never let her visit me in prison. Promise me that, Will. Promise me or I'll start firing."

  "Give me the gun first," I said, "and I'll promise."

  Ken looked down at me. He pushed the gun into my hand. And then he kissed me hard. I wrapped my arms around him. I held him, the murderer. I hugged him to me. He cried into my chest like a small child. We were like that for a long time, until we heard the sirens.

  I tried to push him away. "Go," I whispered to him, pleading. "Please.

  Just run."

  But Ken did not move. Not this time. I will never know why exactly.

  Maybe he had run enough. Maybe he was trying to reach through the evil. Maybe he just wanted to be held. I don't know. But Ken stayed in my arms. He held on to me until the police came over and pulled him away.

  Chapter -Eight.

  Four days later Carly's plane was on time.

  Squares dropped us off at the airport. He, Nora, and I headed toward Newark Airport's Terminal C together. Nora walked up ahead. She knew the child and was anxious and excited to see her again. Me, I was anxious and scared.

  Squares said, "Wanda and I talked."

  I looked at him.

  "I told her everything."

  "And?"

  He stopped and shrugged. "Looks like we're both going to be fathers sooner than expected."

  I hugged him, happy as hell for
them both. I was not so sure about my own situation. I was about to raise a twelve-year-old girl I did not know. I would do my best, but despite what Squares had said, I could never be Carly's father. I had come to terms with a lot about Ken, including the possibility that he would probably spend the remainder of his life in prison, but his insistence on never seeing his daughter again gnawed at me. He wanted, I assume, to protect his child. He felt, again I assumed, that the girl was best off without him.

  I say "assumed" because I could not ask him. Once in custody, Ken had refused to see me too. I did not know why, but his whispered words ..

  .

  You I've hurt and betrayed more than anyone. kept echoing inside me, shredding with razor talons, inescapable.

  Squares stayed outside. Nora and I rushed in. She was wearing the engagement ring. We were early, of course. We found the incoming gate and hurried down the corridor. Nora put her purse into the X-ray machine. I set the metal detector off, but it was just my watch. We rushed to the gate, though the plane was not due to touch down for another fifteen minutes.

  We sat and held hands and waited. Melissa had decided to stay in town for a little while. She was nursing my father back to health. Yvonne Sterno had, as promised, gotten the exclusive story. I don't know what it will do for her career. I had not yet contacted Edna Rogers. I would soon, I guessed.

  As for Katy, no charges had been filed following the shooting. I thought about how much she needed closure, and I wondered if that night had helped her or not. I think maybe it did.

  Assistant Director in Charge Joe Pistillo had recently announced that he would retire at the end of the year. I now understood only too well why he was so eager for me to keep Katy Miller out of this not just for her health but because of what she had seen. I don't know if Pistillo truly doubted the testimony of a six-year-old girl or if his sister's grieving face made him twist Katy's words to suit his purposes. I do know that the feds had kept Katy's old testimony under wraps, supposedly because they were trying to protect a little girl. But I have my doubts.

  I had, of course, been crushed to learn the truth about my brother, and yet this is going to sound odd it was somehow okay. The ugliest truth, in the end, was still better than the prettiest of lies. My world was darker, but it was back on its axis.