The waitress suddenly looked scared. She didn't answer. She didn't have to. Loren was already up and starting for the door. Matt dropped the dollars and followed her.
"What's up?" Matt said.
"Come on," Loren called back. "I already have Kimmy Dale's address."
Kimmy put the videotape into the player. "I should have known," she said.
Olivia sat on the futon and waited.
"You remember that closet in the kitchen?" Kimmy asked.
"Yes."
"Three, maybe four weeks after your murder, I bought this big vat of vegetable oil. I got on a stepladder to put it on the top shelf and behind the lip on top of the door, I saw this"- she pointed with her chin toward the screen-"stuck up there with duct tape."
"Have you watched it?"
"Yeah," she said softly. "I should have- I don't know- gotten rid of it. Given it to the police, something."
"Why didn't you?"
Kimmy just shrugged.
"What's on it?"
She looked like she was about to explain, but then she gestured toward the screen. "Watch."
Olivia sat up. Kimmy paced, wringing her hands, not looking at the screen. For a few seconds there was nothing but static. Then it snapped to an all-too-familiar scene.
A bedroom.
It was filmed in black and white. The date and time were stamped in the corner. A man sat on the edge of a bed. She did not recognize him.
A male voice whispered, "This is Mr. Alexander."
Mr. Alexander- if that was his real name- started undressing. From stage right, a woman appeared and started to help him.
"Cassandra," Olivia said.
Kimmy nodded.
Olivia frowned. "Clyde was taping customers?"
"Yes," Kimmy said. "But with a twist."
"What sort of twist?"
On the screen, both participants were naked. Cassandra was on top of the man now. Her back was arched. Her mouth was open. They could hear her purported cries of passion- they couldn't have sounded more fake if she'd used a cartoon voice.
"I think I've seen enough," Olivia said.
"No," Kimmy said, "I don't think you have."
Kimmy hit the fast-forward button. The onscreen activities became more hurried. Changing positions, quick shifts. It didn't take all that long. The man was done and dressed in fast-forward seconds. When he left the room, Kimmy let go of the button. The tape slowed back down to normal speed.
Cassandra moved closer to the camera. She smiled into the lens. Olivia felt her breath grow deep. "Look at her, Kimmy. She was so young."
Kimmy stopped pacing. She put a finger to her lips and then pointed it at the screen.
A man's voice came on. "This is a souvenir for Mr. Alexander."
Olivia made a face. Sounded like Clyde Rangor trying to disguise his voice.
"Did you have fun, Cassandra?"
"I had lots of fun," Cassandra said in the flattest monotone. "Mr. Alexander was just great."
There was a brief pause. Cassandra licked her lips and glanced toward someone who was out of the shot, as if waiting for her cue. It came soon enough.
"How old are you, Cassandra?"
"I'm fifteen."
"Are you sure?"
Cassandra nodded. Someone off camera handed her a sheet of paper. "I just turned fifteen last week. Here's my birth certificate." She put the document close to the lens. For a moment the picture was blurry, but then someone worked the focus. Cassandra held it up for nearly thirty seconds. Born at the Mercy Medical Center in Nampa, Idaho. Parents were named Mary and Sylvester. Dates were clearly visible.
"Mr. Alexander said he wanted someone fourteen," Cassandra said, as if reading her lines for the first time, "but then he said I'd be okay."
The camera went back to static.
Olivia sat in silence. So did Kimmy. It took a while for the full weight of what Clyde Rangor had done to hit her.
"My God," she said.
Kimmy nodded.
"Clyde didn't just blackmail them with prostitutes," Olivia said. "He set them up with underage girls. He had their birth certificates for proof. He even pretended that the johns were the ones who requested pubescent girls, but either way, even if you claim that you thought the girl was over eighteen, that's a serious crime. This guy, this Mr. Alexander, he didn't just risk being embarrassed or found out. He could be ruined. He could end up in jail."
Kimmy nodded.
The static ended and another man appeared on the screen.
"This is Mr. Douglas," the whispery voice said.
Olivia felt her blood go cold. "Oh, no."
"Candi?"
She moved closer to the screen. The man. The man on the bed. No question about it. Mr. Douglas was Adam Yates. Olivia watched transfixed. Cassandra entered the room again. She helped him undress. So that was it. That was why Clyde had gotten so desperate. He had taped an important federal officer. He probably didn't know that- not even Clyde Rangor would be that stupid- and when he tried to blackmail him, it had all gone wrong.
"You know him?" Kimmy said.
"Yeah," Olivia said. "We just met."
The front door burst open. Olivia and Kimmy both spun toward the sound.
Kimmy shouted, "What the…?"
Cal Dollinger closed the door behind him, pulled out his gun, and took aim.
Chapter 57
LOREN HAD RENTED A CAR.
Matt said, "So how do you think it worked here? Darrow got the ball rolling?"
"It makes the most sense," she agreed. "Darrow somehow finds out about your wife having a daughter. He remembers the autopsy. Then he starts to figure out what really happened back then. He knows there was money involved. He hires some muscle to help out."
"That would be Charles Talley?"
"Right, Talley."
"And you think he found Olivia when she answered that post online?"
"Yes, but…" Loren stopped.
"What?"
"They found Emma Lemay first."
"As Sister Mary Rose."
"Yes."
"How?"
"I don't know. Maybe she was trying to make amends. I mean, I got the whole story on her from the Mother Superior. Sister Mary Rose has lived a good and pious life since she changed IDs. Maybe, I don't know, maybe she saw the post too."
"And tried to help?"
"Yes. And that might explain that six-minute phone call from St. Margaret's to your sister-in-law's house."
"She was warning Olivia?"
"Maybe, I don't know. But they probably found Emma Lemay first. The medical examiner says they tortured her. Maybe they wanted money. Or maybe they wanted your wife's name. Whatever, Emma Lemay ends up dead. And when I try to find out her true identity, it sets off warning bells."
"And this FBI guy. Yates. He hears them?"
"Yes. Or maybe he already knew about Lemay. Maybe he was using that as a cover to come out and get involved, I'm not sure."
"And you think Yates is trying to cover something up?"
"I have a source who told me about this blackmail taping involving underage girls. He's not sure if they're real. But if they are, yeah, I think that somehow he's tied into all this. I think he took me off the case because I was getting too close. He's in Reno too right now."
Matt faced front. "How much longer?"
"Next block."
The car had barely made the turn when Loren spotted Cal Dollinger near a trailer. He was hunched down, looking through a window. She slammed on the brake. "Damn."
"What?"
"We need a weapon."
"Why? What's wrong?"
"That's Yates's man. By the window."
Dollinger stood up. They could see him reach into his jacket and pull out a gun. With a speed that defied his bulk, Dollinger moved to the door, pushed against it, and disappeared inside.
Matt did not hesitate.
"Wait, where are you going?"
He didn't look back, didn't break stride. He sprinted toward the house. He could see through the window into the trailer.