She was halfway through the mint when it came to her.
She stripped off her gloves and tucked them through the pickets on the fence, then took her phone from her pocket and dialed Rob’s number. When he didn’t answer, she left a message on his voice mail.
“Robbie, it’s Lorna. I need you to call me as soon as you get this. It’s about what happened to you, years ago, when you were… honey, I don’t even know how old you were when it happened, but I’m pretty sure something did. I’m talking about Fritz Keeler, Rob. Please give me a call. We need to talk about it.”
She hung up and slipped her cell phone into the pocket of her jeans and resumed weeding. She wondered if maybe she shouldn’t have left the message; it might upset her brother too much to listen to it. Perhaps she shouldn’t have said anything at all. And there was a chance she was wrong. Maybe Robbie hadn’t been molested as a boy, maybe there were other reasons why he’d stayed away from home for so long, why he’d sounded relieved when she told him the police were narrowing the suspects to the individuals who’d been around both nights the Eagan kids had disappeared. Could be there was some other explanation, and she’d stuck her foot in it, big-time.
She continued to fret, and even thought of calling back and asking him to ignore the message. Right. As if he could, once he’d listened to it.
The sound of tires on the gravel out front drew her attention to the drive. She walked around the front of the house and watched an unfamiliar car park near the walk. The driver’s door opened, and Mike Keeler got out.
“Hey, Mike,” she called to him, and felt suddenly tongue-tied. What do you say to a man whose brother has been picked up on suspicion of being a serial killer?
“Hi, Lorna.” He walked toward her. “I just heard about what happened here today, and I wanted to stop over and tell you how sorry I am that you got pulled into the middle of it. And how embarrassed I am about… well, you know. Everything.”
“I wish I could think of something to say to you, Mike. But I can’t. And I can’t believe that Fritz is guilty.”
“I can’t believe it, either, but, well, you’re his friend, and I’m his brother. Maybe we’re prejudiced, you and I. And the police or the FBI must have some pretty strong evidence, to have taken him to the station in the back of a cop car like that. I heard all about it. I was at the store when they took him in, and of course, they had to drive right past the Quik Stop.” He paused. “I heard they took some stuff out of the attic, but I don’t know what. Did Walker mention, when he was here, what they found?”
“No, but I did hear from the FBI agent who interviewed Fritz at the house this morning. Mitch Peyton is a friend, and he knows that Fritz and I are friends. He said there were a number of items in a trunk. Things that belonged to the victims.”
“Is that legal, do you think? To go into someone’s house like that, and just take stuff?”
“It is, I suppose, depending if the owner gave permission for the search. There may be some specifics, some technicalities I don’t know about, but I think if you give permission, they can search.”
“Well, I guess that’s that, then, isn’t it?” Mike shook his head slowly. “My poor mother must be tossing in her grave right now.” He jammed his hands in his pockets. “I can’t believe this has been going on all these years and I didn’t even have a clue.”
“People who have something like that to hide get pretty good at keeping it hidden after awhile. Or so I’m told.”
“But all these years… all those boys he hurt. All those families… God knows how many. It makes me sick just to think about it.”
“It makes me sick, too.” She swallowed hard. “Mike, he might have molested my brother, Rob, at some point.”
“What?”
“I think the reason Rob left home as soon as he graduated from high school, and never came back, is because something happened to him here. I can’t think of anything else that would have traumatized him so.”
“Did he tell you that Fritz…?” Mike asked slowly.
“No. I called him earlier to discuss it with him, but I had to leave a message.”
“You left him voice mail asking him if my brother molested him?”
“Yeah. That might not have been a good thing, huh?” She grimaced. “I’ve been questioning whether I should have done it since the second I hung up. Think it was a mistake?”
“The biggest mistake you ever made.”
She looked at him quizzically.
“You should have kept it to yourself, Lorna. Whatever it was you thought might have happened to your brother, you just should have left it alone.”
In her pocket, her phone began to ring.
“Don’t answer it,” Mike told her.
She took the phone from her pocket and glanced at the number. “It’s Rob.”
“Don’t. Answer. It.” He reached for the phone and took it from her hand, tossed it into the grass.
She stared at him for a long time, as it all began to sink in.
“You,” she said softly. “It was you. Not Fritz.”
“Hell of a time to figure it out, when none of your law buddies are here. Sorry, Lorna, but you are now officially a liability.” He took her by the arm, not forcefully, but firmly, and turned her in the direction of the barn.
Behind her, in the grass, her cell phone began to ring again.
Was it Rob calling back? T.J.? Regan?
It occurred to her that she would probably never know. There was no way Mike was going to let her live, knowing what she now knew.
“You’re forgetting, Rob knows it’s you, not Fritz.” She struggled to break free, and he tightened his hold on her arm. “If something happens to me, he’ll know, and he’ll tell.”
Mike’s laughter was harsh and loud.
“First, they’re going to have to find you. And that might take some time. Second, Rob’s not telling anyone anything. Ever. I made sure of that years ago.” He was still laughing as he dragged her into the barn. “Yeah, I tried out your brother. And he should have ended up like the rest of them, in the back woods. But he got away from me. Imagine that? That skinny little runt. Well, I told him what I’d do if he ever-I mean ever-told anyone what I’d done. Obviously, he never did, if you’re just figuring it out now.”
“What did you threaten him with?”
“I told him I’d kill everyone in his family.”
“I can’t imagine he’d have believed you had that kind of power.”
“Oh, he believed it.” He laughed again. “Your father made certain of that.”
“What does my father have to do with this?”
“He made me look like the most powerful man in the world.” He leaned down and whispered, “He died two days later.”
Lorna felt as if the wind had been knocked from her lungs.
“He died of a heart attack.”
“Yeah. Pretty good timing, wouldn’t you say?” Mike pushed her through the barn door and took the gun from his pocket. “Unfortunately, I can’t rely on lightning striking again, so I’m going to have to make my own luck.”