Stride checked Denise’s list of names and locations. “No. It’s not on the list.”
“Can you find out who owns the place?”
He tapped a few keys on his dashboard computer. “Property records say the owner is a woman named Kathy Ford.”
“Does that name ring a bell?”
He clicked for more information on the county records. “It looks like the place changed hands twelve years ago. The previous owners were Richard and Carol Godfrey. I remember a Kathy Godfrey from back in our school days. She didn’t go to Central, but she and Cindy both waitressed at Grandma’s on their summer breaks. But Kathy’s not one of the names Denise gave me for the party crawl.”
“Denise didn’t say she remembered everyone, though, did she?”
“True. What are you thinking?”
Serena didn’t answer right away. She got out of the Expedition and walked up the sloping driveway to where the Impala was parked. Stride followed. She studied a wide redwood balcony on the second story, which was built immediately above the roof of the garage.
“Andrea told me that after she was assaulted, she didn’t go back to the party. She didn’t want to face anybody. She left from the bedroom to an outside balcony, and from there, she jumped down from the garage. Seems like this house fits what she described.”
“It fits a lot of houses,” Stride said.
“Except she also mentioned a castle.”
“What?”
“She had a memory of running past a castle.” Serena pointed at the middle of the lawn. Among the towering oak trees was a varnished chainsaw sculpture that had been made out of the trunk of a fallen tree. The wood carving had been shaped like a fairy-tale castle, with high turrets, square grooves that resembled stone building blocks, and red conical roofs. Time had weathered it, wearing down the sharp edges and opening up cracks in the wood.
“I’ll be damned,” Stride said.
“Where did Andrea’s parents live back then?” Serena asked.
“Near Cody and 59th.”
“Well, she said she ran home afterward. That’s not far.”
Stride nodded. “You’re right.”
Serena stared at the bedroom windows on the second floor. She imagined a hot summer night decades ago and a hurt, crying teenage girl escaping onto that balcony. She could see the girl practically falling over the railing and dropping onto the dirty garage roof below her. And then, dangling from the roof’s edge by her fingers, landing heavily on the wet grass. She could see the girl stumbling away, running through the dark streets down the hill, thinking of nothing except getting home, hiding in her bedroom, and sitting under the hot water of the shower until it washed her clean.
Which it never would.
Serena knew exactly how that girl felt.
“Can I help you?”
A voice called to them from the house’s front door. Serena and Stride both looked in that direction and saw a middle-aged woman on the porch. She was tall but heavyset, with wavy brown hair. She wore an untucked button-down blue sweater over dark slacks.
“Ms. Ford?” Stride called.
“Yes.”
“I’m Jonathan Stride. This is Serena Stride. We’re with—”
“I know who you are, Jonathan,” the woman interrupted, coming down the steps. “You were married to Cindy.”
“That’s right.”
“I was at her funeral. I saw you then, but I’m sure you don’t remember with all of the people there. That was so tragic to lose her so young. She was a lovely woman.”
“Yes, she was. Actually, I’m married again. Serena is my wife. We’re both with the police.”
“I know that, too.” The woman approached them in the driveway. Serena shook hands with her, and she gave Stride a brief hug. Behind her, in the house, a golden retriever pushed through the screen door and galloped across the yard to join them, its tail wagging wildly. Kathy Ford bent down next to her dog to pet him and then eyed Serena and Stride in turn.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “Why are you here?”
“Ms. Ford, we’d like to ask you a few questions—” Serena began, but the woman stopped her with a smile.
“Oh, please. I’m not formal. Call me Kathy.”
“Okay. Kathy. I know this was a long time ago, but we’re looking into something that may have happened at a summer party almost thirty years ago. A sexual assault.”
The woman frowned. “Is this about Devin? I know the allegations against him are back in the news.”
“You’re right. It is.”
She hugged her dog and then pushed herself back to her feet with a little groan. “Well. I was wondering if someone would show up here eventually. When all those reporters were in town a few years ago, I assumed one of them would track me down, but nobody ever did. I guess I should have come forward myself, but I didn’t want to get involved. That probably sounds selfish, but I really didn’t want to see my life put through the ringer.”
“You know what happened?” Stride asked.
“I have suspicions, but that’s all.”
“Please tell us whatever you can,” Serena said.
Kathy Ford turned around and did what Serena had done. She stared at the upstairs bedroom window near the garage. “Did you talk to Adella Oliver?”
“Yes, we were just there,” Stride replied. “She didn’t remember anything.”
“No, she never knew about this. Adella and I were best friends back in school. So funny, all these years later, we’re still in the houses where we grew up. I guess that’s Duluth. Parents die, and the kids move back in. Anyway, when the accusations first came out about Devin a few years ago, Adella asked me if I remembered anything. I lied and said I didn’t.”
Serena waited. She felt her own anxiety soaring, and then she realized. This was a story about assault. This was personal.
“It was August,” Kathy went on. “I don’t even remember the year. I’d been out of school for a while. A whole group of us decided to have a big blowout summer party crawl. Some big concert was in town at the DECC, and we all went there, and then afterward, we spent half the time going from house to house. Drinking. Doing crazy things. I was probably, what, twenty or twenty-one? But there were younger girls with us, too, some of them still in high school. It was a wild, wild night. I remember the party moved over to Adella’s house, but then her parents came home and threw us all out, so we walked over here to my house. My folks were out of town. Not exactly my most mature decision, I’ll say that.”
“How many people were there?” Serena asked.
“Oh, I have no idea. Dozens.”
“What about Devin Card?”
“Yes, Devin was there. Peter, too. Peter Stanhope.”
“You’re sure about that?” Stride asked her.
“Oh, yes. I remember the incident.”
“What incident?”
“Peter was always throwing money around. I mean, you know his family, Jonathan. He had everything. He and Devin were both drunk. Well, we all were. Peter said he’d pay a girl to have sex with him and let the rest of us watch. And he did. It happened right inside on my parents’ sofa. Believe me, I never forgot that.”
“Do you remember who the girl was?” Stride asked quietly.
“I’m not sure I do. Oh, wait, no. Actually, I’m pretty sure it was Denise. Denise Forseth.”
“Adella didn’t mention anything about this,” he said.
“No, like I said, she wasn’t there. Her parents wouldn’t let her go out after they came home and found the party at her place. So she didn’t come with us.”
“What about Devin Card?” Serena asked. “Was he with anyone?”