Lucy was stunned into silence. Frozen, unable to move, unable to cry. Her chest tightened and she wasn’t breathing. How could her father bring up her rape? As if she would hide forever for fear someone would find out? It wasn’t a secret considering her kidnapper posted her rape—not just one, but multiple rapes—on the Internet. It had been her cross to bear, but she had overcome it. She had to or she would have imploded.
She found her voice and, as calmly as she could, said, “I want justice, D-Dad.” She wanted to be strong, but her resolve was beginning to crumble.
“Justice.” He shook his head. “I don’t know you anymore, Lucy. I don’t understand you. At first I was desperate for answers, but now we have peace. Real peace. Don’t destroy it.”
“I made my decision, Dad. I’m sorry you don’t agree, but I have to do this.”
“You don’t have to do anything. This is family, Lucy. Your family. Maybe you’ve forgotten … you rarely visit, you live your own life. I understand, you needed to get away after … after everything. But you’re not the little girl I raised. How you can talk to me about murder so … coldly. You’re acting like this is a job, not our lives. Justin was family. Your family. My grandson was not a victim, not a number, but our flesh and blood.” Tears clouded her father’s blue eyes. Tears she had put there.
Do not cry. Do not cry.
“For me—for your mother—I’m asking you. Do not do this. Let Justin rest in peace.”
He wasn’t asking. He was telling her.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” She could barely speak. She had never seen her father like this … broken, tortured, angry, and so deeply sad.
She stood up, she didn’t have anything else to say.
“If you go through with this, Lucy, you can’t come back here. I have to protect my family as best I can.”
Protect my family. Am I not your family, too?
“You’re disowning me like you disowned Jack?”
“That’s not fair. These are completely different situations. I’m not disowning you. That’s ridiculous—I love you, you’re my daughter. But I don’t want to hear anything about Justin or his murder, I don’t want you talking to your mother about it. Carina or Connor are not going to help you. I don’t understand how you can hurt your family like this. We’ve stood by you no matter what, and that counts for nothing?”
“I understand.” Her voice was unnatural and stiff. “Good-bye.”
She walked out.
Her father didn’t try to stop her.
Sean was still in the kitchen with Connor, Julia, and Carina, though no one was talking. Her mother was nowhere she could see, but Lucy couldn’t look for her now. As soon as Sean saw her, he was at her side.
“Let’s go,” she said.
Sean took her arm and they left.
Carina and Connor didn’t say a word.
“Lucy,” Sean said as he pulled away in the rental car, “what happened?”
“I’m not welcome home as long as I’m investigating Justin’s murder.”
They drove in silence for several minutes. Then Lucy said, “Why am I doing this, Sean? Three hours ago when I left Maxine’s hotel room, I couldn’t imagine not finding this killer. I feel like I already know her, at least on the surface.”
“You’re better than me—I don’t know that anyone really knows Max.”
“No, I meant the killer. I’m getting there, I’m getting into her head.”
“You said her—you think the killer is a woman?”
“I need to talk to Dillon, I don’t know how he’s going to feel about what I’m doing here, he might have the same reaction as everyone else. But Dillon, more than anyone, will see the big picture—I’ll make him see it.” She needed someone on her side. Someone who didn’t look at her with such pain and heartache. “Dillon will see that another little boy will die if we don’t find this killer. And they will continue to die, every few years, until we stop her or she’s dead. But … I might lose my family.”
“You won’t, Lucy.”
“Jack didn’t talk to our dad for more than a decade after their … disagreement.” Such a light word for what had happened. “Jack told me about it, though I don’t think he’s discussed it in detail with anyone else. It’s complicated, but in a nutshell … Jack disobeyed orders for what he believed was a moral reason. My dad covered it up, thinking he was helping Jack avoid a court-martial, and reversed Jack’s actions. People died, Jack blamed my father, and my father blamed Jack. They couldn’t forgive each other for a long time. Their relationship has never been the same.”
“Jack’s a grown man. They’re both stubborn. You’re not.”
“If I’m not stubborn, why can’t I just walk away?”
“Because some psychobitch is killing children and destroying people’s lives. If she kills again, it’s not on you. I know that, you know that, the world knows that, but I also know you—and you won’t be able to sleep if you don’t do everything in your power to stop her. To prevent another family from suffering like your family.”
Sean understood. That gave her the strength she needed to finish what Max Revere started.
“Your family may never agree with this decision, but when you find the killer, they’ll understand.”
“I hope you’re right.” She paused. “You said when I find the killer.”
“Lucy, if there’s one thing I know about you is that you don’t give up. You don’t back down when things become difficult or dangerous. If anyone can figure out who killed Justin and those other boys, it’s you.”
She took Sean’s hand. “I love you so much.”
“Right back at you. No matter what, Lucy—if you need me here, I’ll be here. You will tell me, right? No secrets. No trying to hide what’s bothering you. I will jump in my plane and fly back, day or night.”
“Knowing you would do that gives me strength.” She kissed his hand. “And I promise, Sean, no secrets. If I need you, I will call.”
Chapter Fourteen
FRIDAY
Lucy woke up when Sean slid out of bed. She moaned. She hadn’t slept well. Surprise, surprise.
“Go back to sleep,” Sean said.
She looked at the clock. “It’s seven. I need to get up. We’re not on our honeymoon anymore.” She rose at six in the morning when she was working. Seven was almost decadent.
“We’re going to honeymoon for the rest of our lives,” Sean said and kissed her.
She sat up in bed and stretched. “Andrew arranged for Max and I to interview retired detective Don Katella this morning. I still have more reading to do.”
“Think she’ll play by the rules?”
“We’ll see. She was quiet last night when I saw her, which was fine with me—I didn’t want to talk about what happened with my family.”
“What did you tell her?”
“The truth, they don’t want to be involved. I didn’t need to share details.”
Sean sat next to her. “If Carina and Connor give you a hard time, let me know.”
“I can handle them.” Sean was protective, and he was much closer to Jack and Patrick than he was to Carina and Connor. She didn’t want any more conflict in her family—she’d created enough. Something like this could divide the family. She didn’t want anyone to have to choose sides.
She considered what had really been bothering her when she couldn’t get to sleep. “I lied last night.”
“About what?”
“I told my dad we could keep Nelia out of it, but we can’t. The killer must have stalked the families she targeted. I’ve thought about this half the night.” One of the many reasons she couldn’t sleep. “All four boys were taken when they had babysitters. All four boys had been sleeping at the time of the abduction and taken through a window. The killer had to know which bedroom was which.”
Lucy got up and began to pace, but Sean took her hand. “Sit.”
“I’m antsy. I need to be doing something.”
“Talk it out.”
He kissed her hand.
He was right. It was always better when she could talk through her train of thought. “I think Nelia or Andrew knew the killer—at least casually. So did the Porters and the Donovans. And if Peter Caldwell fits the victim profile, then the Caldwells must have met the killer as well. At least one of the parents interacted with the killer. Otherwise, how would she know which bedroom belonged to her victim?”
“Casing the house. If there was no external security, someone could look through windows to get the layout.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“But you don’t agree.”
“My gut tells me these boys were specifically targeted because their fathers were having an extramarital affair. I don’t think the infidelity is a coincidence. That means that the boys themselves were stalked as well as their fathers. The killer knew about the affair.”
“Maybe the killer—if you’re right and it’s a woman—had been a previous lover.”
She hadn’t considered that option. “Possibly … but wouldn’t she then target the new mistress? Or the adulterer? And why kill the boys? It wasn’t in rage—the deaths weren’t violent. They were quiet. But it’s a question we need to ask Andrew.” That wouldn’t be fun, but Andrew had to know that reopening Justin’s case meant he would have to talk about everything, including his personal life. “A crime like this isn’t random. If Justin was the only victim, maybe. Maybe random.” She didn’t believe that, either. “I don’t know why. Once we know why, we’ll know who, or at least have a clear direction. I wish I could put all the parents in a room together and have them talk to one another and find out if they know someone in common.”
“Are you going to call Dillon?”
“Yes. Though if I had to guess, my phone will ring at eight.”
“You think someone already called him.”
“My dad, most likely.”
“Why do you think your dad, Carina, and Connor are so opposed to you reopening this investigation?”
“I don’t know if it’s just because they’re trying to protect Nelia from reliving the pain, or not have my mom worried about all of us, or what. Justin’s murder was hard on everyone, but Carina is a cop. She should understand better than anyone that the killer isn’t going to stop. In hindsight, I should have talked to her alone.”
“Why Carina?”
“Because Carina was babysitting when Justin was kidnapped. She knows the case—both because she was there and because she read the files. Without the family audience, I might have been able to have a heart-to-heart with her. Convince her. I messed up.”
“You did not,” Sean said. “But I know how to get your mind off everything, at least for a few minutes.” He pulled her up off the bed.
“A few minutes?”
“Fifteen minutes … twenty minutes … I have all the time in the world for you. RCK can’t start the meeting without me.” He kissed her. “I’m taking a shower. Join me.”
She smiled. “So you really meant it when you said the honeymoon will never end.”
They were halfway to the bathroom when Lucy’s cell phone rang. She groaned. “I have to—”
Sean pulled the phone off the charger. “It’s Dillon.”
Lucy took the call and waved Sean into the bathroom alone. So much for a romantic morning before Sean left for the weekend. But she had to talk to her brother, sooner rather than later.
“Hello.”
“It’s good to hear your voice,” Dillon said.
“I was expecting your call. Dad called you.”
“First Dad, then Carina. Why didn’t you talk to me first?”
“I didn’t think. Andrew called me Wednesday night. Sean and I flew out yesterday to hear what the reporter had to say, what she learned, and then I just thought I should be the one to tell the family. Believe me, Dillon, I wish I had called you first.”
“I know you, Lucy—you were going to investigate Justin’s murder as soon as you got the call from Andrew. Hearing the evidence, even if it was weak, would have drawn you in.”
“So Carina told you what I said.”
“Carina was upset when I talked to her, I got more details from Dad. I would have flown out and talked to the family with you.”
“With me or against me?”
“What does that mean?” He sounded confused.
“No one listened to what I said, Dillon. Carina is a cop. I expected her to be more impartial … or be able to distance herself from the past.”
“Not everyone has the same skills we have, Lucy. Carina is emotionally involved. She’s now a mother. That changes people. But more than that, she went through the wringer after Justin disappeared. Interviewed both as a witness and as a suspect.”
“I didn’t know that.” Carina had been a suspect? How could that have happened?
“She was alone with Justin in the house when he disappeared. For a time, the detective thought that there was an accident and she panicked, tried to cover it up. She was cleared, but it had a huge impact on her.”
Lucy had once been suspected of a crime she hadn’t committed. She knew exactly how Carina felt. Why hadn’t Carina talked to her about it? Because she was so much younger? She wasn’t a child anymore.
“I hope I can turn Carina around,” Lucy said, “but Dad isn’t going to budge. It wasn’t a good conversation.” Understatement of the year.
“Dad is trying to protect his family. He looks at the world differently.”
“It’s not that, Dillon. He looks at me and sees my past. I don’t think he can ever look at me and not think about what happened on my graduation.”
“He loves you, Lucy.”
She knew that in her heart, but it had hurt deep down that her father still thought about her kidnapping and rape. “This isn’t about love. It’s about pain. And—” She didn’t want to talk about it. “Anyway—”
Dillon cut her off. “Don’t avoid your feelings. You’re hurt.”
“Yes.” Admitting it was hard.
“Dad didn’t want to hurt you. He doesn’t understand why you do what you do.”
“I get that. Maybe I never did before, but I get it now.”
“I can talk to him—”
“No. Please, it’s not going to fix anything, at least now. He thinks that if I do this, the reporter will exploit Justin’s murder, drag the family into it, and bring up my past.”
“What do you think?”
“I don’t think that’s her intention. She will air a program on the murders, of that I’m sure. And de facto that means she’ll be talking about Justin, Andrew, Nelia. But what if exposing the pattern helps us find and stop the killer before she kills again?”
“She?”
“I have a rough profile. I’d like to discuss it with you.”
Dillon didn’t respond for a long minute. Lucy’s heart tightened. Was everyone going to be against her?
“You already believe the killer is a woman. This reporter must have something no one else has.”
“Not so much what no one has, it’s how she connected the crimes, the pattern, and the way the victims were killed. And yes, I’m certain the killer is a woman. I’m going to write up a summary—I want to send it to you. See if I’m missing anything. I think she considered killing these boys a form of mercy killing, though the why I can’t figure out yet. There doesn’t appear to be a motive. The only thing these families have in common—other than they had one son—was that the fathers were having an affair. They live in different areas of the Southwest—California and Arizona—and neither parent was home during the time their son was abducted. Andrew is going to work on getting me a copy of the forensic reports and determine if the sedatives used in all cases are the same.”
“Send me what you have,” Dillon said. He didn’t sound happy about it.
“I can do this without you.”
“Justin was my nephew too, Lucy.” He paused. “Are you going to talk to Nelia?”
“I don’t wan
t to,” she admitted, “but I don’t see how I can avoid it. If I’m right and the killer stalked the families, Nelia may very well have met her. If I can narrow down the profile enough to where I can describe the killer’s personality that might trigger her memory.”
“You’re right, but I’ll do it. Nelia may not be able to help. Losing a child, especially to violence, is the worst grief that can befall someone. Nelia didn’t handle it well—no one expected her to—but she couldn’t get out of the pit of despair for years. She’s better now, but talking about Justin will destroy that peace.”
“Even if we find out who killed him.”
“Justin will still be dead.”
“This woman is going to kill again. I don’t want to hurt Nelia, but I want to save another woman from suffering her fate.”
“I understand, Lucy, I do. But this is a delicate situation. When you need to talk to Nelia, call me first. Let me facilitate it. She’ll talk to me. I can get the information out of her. I don’t know that she’ll give you the same.”
It might be the best she could get at this point. And if anyone could get Nelia to open up, it was Dillon. “Thank you.”
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