The comment stung Maureen, but she offered no retort on her husband’s behalf. “Alright. If that’s what you want, I’ll bring him inside. Would you like him to sit with us?”
Evelyn glanced at the sofa. “Not here. We can talk in the kitchen.”
Maureen opened the sliding door at the back of the living room, and Evelyn made her way to the kitchen. She settled into a creaky wooden chair and dug her right thumbnail into her left palm, using the pain to anchor herself to the present.
In the living room, the door slid shut. Maureen appeared at the entrance to the kitchen, pulling the towering man behind her.
Harold’s head and shoulders hung low. He stared at the floor, and his eyes glistened with fresh tears. Maureen tried to tow him to the table, but he held back. She tugged at his hand one more time then let go.
A terrible stillness settled upon the room, as solemn as the inside of a funeral parlor. Evelyn’s heart pounded in her chest and echoed in her ears. Her limbs itched and tingled with electricity, begging her to run. She dug her thumbnail deeper into her palm and reminded herself why she came. But everything she’d wanted to know about Donny suddenly vanished, and her lips parted to utter the one question that mattered. “Why?”
Harold inhaled, and his entire body shuddered. He tried to speak, but he couldn’t form the words and instead let out a shuddering sigh. The mountain of a man covered his face with his hands and began to weep.
Maureen rubbed her husband’s back. Speaking in a low voice, as if to hide her words from Evelyn, she said, “She’s afraid, Harry. She needs to know the truth.”
Harold let out a sob. “He was my little boy. I had to protect him.”
Raising her voice, Maureen said, “No one is questioning your reasons, but Donny isn’t a boy anymore, and your daughter is afraid of him. You need to protect her now.”
Finally, Harold glanced at Evelyn. His hollow, bloodshot eyes held none of the fury she remembered. He was a broken man.
“What do you mean? Why did you have to protect Donny?” Evelyn asked.
He flinched and looked away like a beaten dog. “He—he was young. If he went to court, they would have questioned him. And if they found out how he knew, he could’ve gone to jail, too.” His brow furrowed as if he didn’t understand his own words. “I mean, I think it was illegal, what Donny did. He was so bright, so talented…and he was just trying to look out for you.”
Evelyn frowned. He was giving her more questions than answers. “But…what did he do?”
Still reluctant to meet his daughter’s gaze, Harold looked at the ceiling. “He found things out about Jeb. Terrible things. And I…I lost control. I never told you what Jeb had done because I didn’t want you to know what kind of person he was.”
Terrible things? Evelyn thought. She covered her mouth with one hand, sickened by the truth materializing before her. “What did Donny find out? You have to tell me.”
Several moments passed. Harold’s jaw moved up and down, but he couldn’t bring himself to describe what he had seen.
Placing her hand against his chest, Maureen said, “Harry, is it alright if I tell her?”
He nodded.
Maureen took a deep breath and fixed her daughter in a steely gaze. “Donny was the reason we left you alone that night. He wanted to talk to us in private, away from the house. He seemed…sickened by something, so we agreed. We took him to dinner, trying to get him to open up, but he barely spoke. He wouldn’t tell us anything until Harold parked the station wagon outside of town where no one could see or hear us.”
She scratched her neck as if the memory still made her squeamish. “Donny had conducted an investigation of sorts. He didn’t trust Jeb, so he started collecting information. He snuck into the Principal’s office and stole Jeb’s school record, which had a list of complaints about Jeb’s behavior toward younger students. There were several reports of Jeb breaking into the girls’ bathrooms, and an unsubstantiated claim that he had touched a sixth-grader inappropriately.” Maureen watched Evelyn’s expression, looking for signs of shock. Seeing none, she continued. “Even back then, Donny was a whiz with computers. He managed to hack into the Sheriff’s department database and found more records. There were eight separate reports by Jeb’s family members—they were concerned that Jeb was…molesting his classmates at school. And one of his friends claimed that Jeb had raped a girl at a party. The police never arrested him, because none of the victims ever came forward.”
Evelyn’s face still didn’t betray any emotion. She nodded for her mother to continue.
“Harold and I were mortified. We were going to forbid you from seeing Jeb and talk to his family.” Maureen swallowed. “Then Donny showed us the laptop.”
Evelyn leaned forward and rested her forearms on the table. “Jeb’s laptop?”
Maureen nodded emphatically, as if surprised she had guessed. “Yes, exactly. Donny was concerned for your safety, so he broke into Jeb’s locker and stole his laptop. What he found inside was despicable.” Her face soured. “Nude pictures. Of children.”
Evelyn’s face was hard, cold. “And that’s what set Dad off. That’s why he came home and tore my life apart.”
Harold winced, bit his lower lip, and nodded.
After a long moment of silence, Evelyn spoke. “Thank you for telling me.” She pushed her chair back and stood, then crossed the room, paused, and patted his arm—touching her father for the first time in ten years.
She said, “Welcome home, Harrold,” then hurried past him, opened the front door, and stepped into the darkening night.
17
He stared at the phone, and his palms began to sweat. There, in capital letters, were the words he feared most of all. I KNOW WHAT YOU DID.
In a flash, he opened the message and checked the description. The number was unlisted.
His mind raced, replaying his actions over the past several years. Where had he made a mistake? He narrowed in on the last six months, then the last four weeks. Nothing.
He shook his head. He had followed the plan perfectly. Evelyn was ready to take the next step with him, he was sure of it. He just needed a little more time.
Setting the phone aside, he massaged his temples and took a cleansing breath. He could still salvage this, still claim his prey, but he would have to act quickly. There was no way to put out the wildfire once it started; the only option was to cut a firebreak. Perform damage control.
Normally, he claimed the women he hunted with zero collateral damage. But Evelyn was different—there were too many people watching out for her. Flipping open a notebook, he began scrawling out names. He made a list of everyone he knew then placed the words Means, Motive, and Opportunity at the top of the page.
With the focus of a detective on the verge of a breakthrough, he filled out the page. One by one, he crossed out suspects until he was left with three names. He tore out the page and started another.
He beamed with pride as he jotted down information about his top three suspects. Her life was an open book—one he had memorized to serve his purposes. When he finished the second page, he held it out and let his eyes wander from one line to the next.
“Which one of you knows my dirty little secret?” he asked out loud, as if expecting the answer to leap out at him. He read the first name again. Harold.