“What’s going on?” he asked as I powered down the window.
I gave Celeste a wave. “Thanks!”
“Nice kid!” she shouted, getting up and going back into the house.
Jeremy craned his neck around to respond, a slightly stunned look on his face. “Thank you,” he said.
I was willing to bet it was the nicest thing anyone had said to him in months.
He got in the car next to me. “Well?”
“Taking you home,” I said.
“What happened?”
I was going to tell him on the way, but thought better of it. This was something I had to tell him eye to eye. I shifted in my seat to look at him.
“You didn’t do it. You didn’t drive the car. You didn’t run down Sian.”
His chin began to tremble. “What...”
“Galen Broadhurst was driving the car.”
“How do you know?”
“He told me.”
Now his hands were shaking. “Oh my God. Oh my God.”
“There’s more,” I said gently. “Bob Butler helped him.”
I gave him the details, briefly and slowly, including the news that it had been Bob’s idea to have us killed. I couldn’t imagine how much it was to take in. Elation matched by betrayal.
He burst into tears. He started sobbing. I reached out with both arms and pulled him close to me, patted his back.
“The nightmare’s over,” I said, although I knew it was going to take a while for all of this to sink in. And there was going to be fallout. A lot of it.
The boy could not stop shaking. “Bob — he paid my legal bills.”
“Yeah, well, I guess he was feeling pretty guilty. It was the least he could do. Getting you off, so long as the blame didn’t shift elsewhere, was a pretty safe game for him to play.”
“My mom,” he said. “I have to tell my mom. I have to tell her what a bastard he is.”
“We’re gonna do that,” I assured him. “We’re gonna go over there now.”
Jeremy struggled to pull himself together. I found tissues in the glove box and dug out a handful for him.
“Thank you so much,” he said.
“They’re just tissues.”
“I mean, for everything. For figuring out that this whole thing was fucked up. For giving me my life back.”
I gave him a moment to get settled back into his seat, facing forward, before I keyed the ignition. “Let’s go,” I said.
I’d told Duckworth thirty minutes, but only twenty-five had passed when we pulled into the driveway of Madeline Plimpton’s house. Tires crunching on gravel was not enough to bring anyone running outside to greet us, but I could hear movement in the house when I rang the bell.
“Can’t we just walk in?” Jeremy asked.
“Not our house,” I said. “Manners.”
The door opened. Ms. Plimpton’s dour expression turned into one of joy when she saw us there.
“I tried all night to reach you!” she said, throwing her arms around the boy. “You had us worried sick.”
A second later, Gloria emerged from the kitchen area and shrieked. She had to pry Ms. Plimpton off Jeremy so she could hug him herself.
“I’m so glad you’re home!” she said. “It was a huge mistake, sending you away!” He tried to move her away as she planted kisses on his cheeks, then gave up and let her continue.
I said to Ms. Plimpton, “Where’s Bob?”
“He’s in the kitchen,” she said, and as she turned herself in that direction, Bob appeared.
Briefly.
It took him half a second to see who’d arrived, and another half a second to realize he was in deep shit.
He turned and ran.
I bolted after him.
Ms. Plimpton said, “What on earth?”
“He did it!” I heard Jeremy say. “He sent that guy to kill us!”
“What?” Gloria said.
Bob was on the far side of the kitchen, attempting to open the sliding glass door. But a wooden stick down in the track, designed to keep out burglars, had thwarted him. I caught up, grabbed him by the back of his jacket, and flung him across the room. He stumbled over two kitchen chairs, scattering them, and landed on his side. There was the look of a trapped animal in his eyes.
“Don’t get up,” I told him. “If you try, I’ll fucking kill you.”
He seemed convinced.
“You look as surprised to see me as Galen did. They just arrested him. They’re coming for you next.”
Jeremy, Gloria and Ms. Plimpton had joined us in the kitchen. The two women were open-mouthed at the scene.
“Is it true?” Gloria asked Bob. “You sent someone to kill them?”
“It’s bullshit!” Bob said. “Whatever they’re saying, it’s bullshit.”
“You haven’t heard half of what he did!” Jeremy shouted. He was trembling again. I was feeling immensely worried for him. He was totally on the edge.
Pointing at Bob, he said, “He helped that shitbag Broadhurst! The two of them put me in the car!”
Ms. Plimpton looked like she’d just seen a pig fly through the kitchen. “What?”
Jeremy said, “They framed me! They made me think I’d done it! They made the world think I’d done it!”
Ms. Plimpton glared at Bob. “My God, is this true?”
What struck me, at that moment, was that Gloria didn’t ask that question, or anything close to it. My eyes were darting back and forth between her aunt and Bob. Maybe she was just in shock.
“I told you, don’t listen to them,” Bob said. “This is crazy.”
“No, it’s not crazy,” I said. “I got it all from Galen. We know what happened.”
Jeremy turned to his mother. “You hear what I’m saying? You hear what this son of a bitch did?”
Gloria, her voice softer than I was used to, said, “I’m sure there’s some explanation.”
“What’s that mean?” Jeremy asked. “Don’t you believe us?”
I said, “I think she does, Jeremy.”
Gloria turned my way.
“You don’t look like this part is new to you,” I said to her.
“Gloria?” Ms. Plimpton said. “What’s he talking about?”
“The part about Bob sending a hit man after us, you looked surprised at that,” I said. “But not the other part.”
The room suddenly fell very silent, all eyes, even Bob’s, on Gloria.
“Mom?” Jeremy said. He was full-out shaking now.
“I didn’t know,” she whispered. “I didn’t know... at first.”
“When did you know?” I asked.
She looked at her son, reached a hand up and touched his cheek. Jeremy was too stunned to pull back.
“I heard them talking,” she said. “Bob and Galen. Soon after the accident. I... I confronted them. I... I was going to do something, but... everything was too far along.”
Jeremy whispered, “How... how could...”
“I think I know how,” I said. “What did they tell you, Gloria? That if you came forward at that point, they’d go to jail. Galen and Bob. That deal worth millions would die. You’d be worthless. They told you they had a strategy to get Jeremy off, or at least make it so he served very little time in prison. Was it something like that?”
Tears were running down her cheeks. There was a nod. “If it hadn’t worked,” she said weakly, “I told them, that if they sent Jeremy to jail, then I’d have to say... I’d have to say something...”
“You let them do this to me,” Jeremy said.
“But I let them humiliate me,” she told him. “I let them make a laughing stock of me, because I love you. I was willing to do anything to save you. I didn’t care. I did it for you. ”
“You were willing to do anything but tell the truth,” he said, his voice weak, crumbling.
“Jeremy,” I said. “We should get you out of here.”