Robert gave a forced laugh, giving up on the strip of tape and wadding it into a ball.
Sara continued to press, still certain of what had happened. "You were on the floor, kneeling in front of the bed."
"Maybe one will be enough," he said, picking up the roll of tape.
"Was Luke behind you when he was shot?"
He tore off a four-inch strip. "I'm going to have to cover your mouth."
She fought back her fear, needing to know the truth. "Just tell me what happened, Robert. You didn't kill him. I know you didn't kill him. Was it Jessie? Did she find you? Robert, you have to tell someone. You can't just leave it like this."
He started to put the tape over her mouth, but stopped at the last minute. Sara stared at him as he tried again, but something would not let Robert cover her mouth.
He walked back a few steps, sitting on the bed with obvious discomfort. He held the tape in his hands, cradling it like he was afraid it would explode.
Sara forced herself to speak gently, not knowing how far she could push him. She asked, "You were with Luke that night, weren't you?"
Robert stared at his hands, his silence enough of an answer to keep her going.
"Did Jessie know before that night?" She paused, then asked, "Robert?"
He slowly shook his head. "I tried so hard with her," he finally said. "She was the only woman in the world I thought I could be a husband to." He looked out the window into the backyard. Sara wondered if he was thinking of family barbecues and picnics, playing catch with the son he could never have. "She was supposed to be gone for a while," Robert continued. "Said she was going to her mama's, then to the grocery store, like she did every Sunday night."
"What happened?"
"She got into a fight with her mama." He let out a weary sigh. "She came home early, had time enough to put up all the groceries. Some kind of cop I am, huh? Didn't even hear her in the kitchen."
"Did she walk in on you?"
"She thought I was still over at Possum's watching the game."
"Did she walk in on you?" Sara repeated.
"I kept it hidden," he said, still not answering her question. "I kept it hidden for all these years." He rubbed his eyes with his fingers. "I made a deal with God. I promised Him I wouldn't do it anymore if He would give Jessie a baby." He dropped his hand. "That's all we needed, see, was to be a family. I would've been a good father."
Obviously, he expected some sort of confirmation, because he looked away when Sara would not give it. "God just knew better than to let it happen. Maybe He knew I couldn't hold up my end of the bargain."
"God doesn't make those kinds of deals."
"No," he said. "Not for men like me."
"Being gay doesn't make you a bad person."
He winced at the word.
Sara strained her leg against the tape, trying to see if there was any chance of escape.
"Everything I did with her turned to poison," he said. Inexplicably, a genuine smile came to his lips. "You know what it's like to be in love for the first time in your life?"
Sara did not answer.
"Dan Phillips," he said. "Damn, but he was beautiful. I know you wouldn't think a boy could be that way, but he had these baby-blue eyes that…" He put his hand to his mouth, then dropped it. "Does that make you sick to hear?"
"No."
"It made me sick," he said. "Julia caught us behind the gym. Hell, I never took any of her favors. Dan, neither. We didn't know that was where she met boys." He gave a harsh laugh. "It was our first time. First and last."
"What did she do?"
"Screamed to high fucking hell," he said. "I've never felt so ashamed in my life. Threw up for the next week, just thinking about how she looked at us. Like we were filth. Hell, we were filth. Dan ran off. Just left town. Couldn't take seeing my face anymore."
"Is that why you killed her?"
He looked wounded, as if she had insulted him. "If that's what you want to think, go ahead."
"I want to know the truth."
He stared at her for a beat. "No." he said. "I didn't kill her. For a while, I thought Jeffrey might have, but…" He shook his head. "Jeffrey didn't do it. There's probably a long list of men in this town who hated her for one reason or another, but he's not like that."
"You didn't rape her, either."
"No. That was just her way of torturing me, spreading that damn rumor. She thought I'd say what I was, try to defend myself by letting everybody know." His face turned into a scowl. "Like I'd do that. I'd rather die than let anybody know."
Sara had to ask. "And Jeffrey?"
"She thought I'd take up for him. Some friend I was, huh? Let people think Jeffrey raped her just to hide my secret." He paused, making sure she was listening. "I told you, Sara. I would rather die than have it get out."
He looked her in the eye when he said this, and Sara understood the threat.
She had to keep him talking. "Is that why you took the blame for shooting Luke?"
Robert stared at her, silent. "It was the same thing all over again."
"What was?"
"He knew," he said. "Takes one to know one, I guess."
"Luke?"
"I had him in the back of my car one night. Picked him up on a loitering charge down by the bowling alley." Robert looked out the window again. "He was cold, so I gave him my jacket. One thing led to another. I don't even really remember how it happened…just that it felt so good, and then the next day, it felt so horrible."
Sara could see the anguish on his face, and despite the situation, she found herself feeling sorry for him.
"I don't know how, but he kept my letterman jacket. Maybe he stole it out of the car when I wasn't looking. Doesn't matter how he got it, but my name's on it big as day. He called me at the station the next morning. Said he was going to wear it around town, tell everybody he was my girlfriend." He snorted in disgust at the word. "He kept following me around, flirting with me like a damn girl." His jaw worked, and he stared down at his hands.
"You could have just told him to go away," Sara pointed out. "No one would have believed him over you."
"That's not how it works here," he said, and part of her knew that Robert was right. Gossip was currency in a small town. Even a rumor that seemed improbable had more value than the boring truth of an everyday, normal life.
She asked, "What happened, Robert?"
He took his time answering, the truth more horrible to him than the lie he had been telling for the last few days. "I was weak. I just wanted somebody to comfort me, to feel right with." He looked back up at Sara, as if he expected her to any moment voice some kind of revulsion. "I called him up, told him to come over. Told him I wanted him to fuck me. You like hearing that? You know what we were doing, don't you? Fucking up the ass like two fairies."
Sara was unfazed. "Were you in love with him?"
"I hated him," he said, and she could tell by Robert's tone of voice that he really did. "He was like holding up a mirror, looking at myself. All the ugly things about me." Under his breath, he added, "Fucking fairy. Faggot."
"Is that why you killed him?"
A car pulled up outside and they both waited as a door was closed. Seconds later, they heard Nell's next-door neighbor go into his house and slam the door. If he noticed the dogs were missing, he did not seem to care.
Sara prompted, "Robert?"
Again Robert paused before answering. "Jessie came in on us," he finally said. "She heard us. The noises we were making." He looked back at Sara as if to gauge her reaction. "She got my gun because she thought somebody had broken into the house. Didn't even bother to call the police." He jumped to a tangent. "That was what the fight with Faith was about. That's why she was home early."