Hard Truth

19

Mitch was sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch, feet crossed at the ankle and resting on the railing, when T.J. and Lorna returned to the farm.

“Hope you don’t mind,” he called to Lorna after she’d gotten out of the car, “but I needed a little downtime to think a few things over.”

“I don’t mind at all.” She smiled. “Mi rocker es su rocker.”

“Muchas gracias,” Mitch said. “Now, Dawson, tell me why, with all the super-duper spy equipment that I know you’ve purchased over the years, you need the FBI to get telephone information for you.”

“I sold it all when I sold the business.”

“You sold all your toys?” Mitch’s eyebrows rose.

“Every last one of them.”

“That’s too bad.” Mitch shook his head. “And damned poor planning on your part.”

“Hey, I was retiring and the buyer made an offer, lock, stock, and barrel. My partner said to sell it all, so we did.” T.J. stood on the grass with his arms folded over his chest. “Are you going to tell me what you came up with?”

“A name, dates. A phone number. The usual.”

“Are you going to make me beg?”

“Nah.” Mitch opened the briefcase that sat at his feet and handed T.J. a folder. “Name, Claude Raymond Fleming.”

He looked at Lorna. “That name ring a bell?”

“No.” She shook her head.

“Claude Raymond lives on Michigan ’s Upper Peninsula. I have someone checking him out as we speak.”

“Maybe it’s just a coincidence?” Lorna frowned. “Maybe the call had nothing to do with Melinda after all. I guess that would have been too good to be true.”

“We’ll see what turns up. According to the records, it’s a number Danielle hadn’t called in the past four years, so that right there makes me curious. That she’d be dialing even as you’re leaving. Seems as if she was telling someone something they needed to know right away, doesn’t it?” Mitch turned to T.J. “So how’d it go with you today, Dawson?”

“It went.” T.J. sat on the top step and leaned against the support pillar.

Lorna unlocked the front door. “I’ll be back out in a few. I want to see if I have a message from any of my clients.”

“Take your time,” T.J. told her. “I expect we’ll still be here when you’re finished.”

“You learn anything from… which one did you see today?” Mitch asked.

“Dustin Lafferty. The one who drove Jason home the night he disappeared. About the only thing I learned was that he admitted he lied about having seen Jason go into the house that night.”

“Why would he have lied about that?”

“Seems he thought it would make him look important. He wanted people to think he knew something no one else knew.”

Mitch nodded. “I hate it when that happens.”

“And he also told us that Fritz Keeler is gay.”

“Well, there’s something.” Mitch stopped rocking. “Gay victims, a gay perp could make sense. Local guy, just like we thought. Maybe I should have a chat with him. Tell me, what do your instincts say?”

T.J. shrugged. “I don’t have any.”

“That’s bullshit, Dawson.”

“Let’s just look at the facts as we know them, okay, and leave it at that.”

“In that case, I’d say it’s time for me to bring in Fritz.”

“Then do it.”

“You don’t think it’s him,” Mitch said flatly. “I can tell by the look on your face. Will you please tell me what you’re thinking?”

“I’m thinking that it’s one of three guys-Fritz, Mike, or Dustin. I’m thinking maybe you should run a trace on all three of them, see if there are any priors of any sort. But you should see if there are any registered sex offenders in the area. See if there are any other viable suspects.”

“I’ve done all that. I’ve run traces on everyone remotely connected to Jason Eagan, including the chief of police, who, you might be interested in knowing, at one time had a clandestine relationship with Dustin Lafferty’s mother. It ended a few years ago, but I thought I’d pass that on. None of the others have arrests for any sex crimes-not even a peeper among them-but Mike Keeler has had a few assault charges against him. Never convicted, charges were always dropped. Mostly bar fights. Walker also told me Mike had been stopped a few times for driving without a license before he turned sixteen, but it was no big deal. Apparently all the boys around here did that.”

“Dustin said Mike had an aggressive streak.”

Mitch lowered his feet and leaned forward in the chair to face T.J. “Knowing what you know about the players you’ve been talking to, I want your gut reaction, T.J. I need it. You may not trust yourself anymore, but I still do.”

“That’s real nice of you, Mitch,” T.J said drily. “Nice try.”

“Will you knock it off?” Mitch’s jaw tightened. “You gonna carry that cross for the rest of your life? Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Everyone’s mistakes don’t cost innocent people their lives,” T.J. snapped.

“Sometimes they do. Look, I admit, what happened in Georgia, that was horrendous. No getting around it. And I can understand why you would want to walk away, why you’d never want to put yourself in that position again. I might look at things that way myself, for a while. But it wasn’t your fault, what happened. It was Teddy Kershaw’s fault those people died. I think you’ve repented for his sins long enough, don’t you?”

“Ask those kids in Georgia whose mothers Kershaw killed, the husbands who lost their wives. The parents who will never see their daughters again.” T.J.’s eyes clouded. “Ask them if they think I should be let off the hook.”

“You have to let it go, buddy.” Mitch shook his head. “You just have to let it go.”

When T.J. didn’t respond, Mitch said, “So what are you going to do with the rest of your life?”

“I’ll think of something.”

“Sorry I took so long.” Lorna opened the screen door and stepped out onto the porch. “I got tied up with emails. I’ve gotten behind in my work this week. I’m afraid I have a lot to catch up on.”

“Well, I’ll be out of your hair for a few days,” T.J. told her. “There are a few things I need to take care of, too.”

“If everyone is bailing on me, you can at least give me your impressions before I leave,” Mitch said.

“I don’t know,” Lorna said. “I’m not the professional here. Ask T.J. He did almost all of the talking, anyway. Which he should have,” she hastened to add, “since I’m not a detective.”

“I don’t have a favorite.” T.J. shook his head, determined to remain uncommitted.

“Well, in that case, I think I’ll start with Fritz and Mike, move on to Dustin. Not that I think they’ll tell me anything they didn’t tell you, but I want it all on the record.”

“Were you able to find a listing for Matt Conrad?”

“No. But I did learn he’s been on the West Coast for the past nine years or so,” Mitch told them.

“I thought he was out near Reading?” Lorna recalled.

“That was apparently very old information. I talked to Chief Walker earlier today, just wanted him to be aware of our thoughts about the local ‘boys,’ and he tracked Matt through a cousin who still lives nearby,” Mitch said. “If we go with our theory, that the killer has remained local to stay near his kills, I think we can cross him off the list, but I’ll have someone in the San Diego office pay him a visit. I don’t expect it to pan out, though. No, I’m sticking with one of the Keelers or Lafferty for now.” He rocked for a moment, then said, “Maybe we want a warrant for that big old house Fritz is living in. Might be some souvenirs there.”

“I don’t see Fritz as your killer.” The words were out of T.J.’s mouth almost before he realized he’d spoken.

“Really. Who do you see?”

“I don’t see anyone in particular. He just doesn’t fit…” T.J. stopped in mid-sentence.

“He doesn’t fit the profile? Why not? He’s gay, like three victims were. He was there both nights. He grew up around here, might very well have frequented the Purple Pheasant. I will definitely ask him about that. And he’s stayed close to home, close to the remains, just like we figured the killer might do.” Mitch finished the thought. “If he doesn’t fit the profile, who does?”

“I’ll see you in a few days, Lorna.” T.J. stood, choosing to ignore Mitch’s question. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll have my cell with me.”

“Thanks.” She watched him walk to his car and get in. He turned the car around and waved as he drove past the porch.

“Was it something I said?” Lorna asked as his taillights disappeared at the end of the drive.

“No, it was something I said.” Mitch sounded regretful. “I should learn to keep my mouth shut. Learn to take no for an answer.”

“What was the question?”

“The Bureau would love to have T.J. back. He doesn’t want to come. I should just shut up and let the man live his life.”

“Why do you make such an issue of it? Why don’t you drop it?”

“That’s exactly what I should do. And I will, I guess. I just remember how good he was, how clever at picking apart people’s stories and their personalities. I hate to see such talent go to waste. Especially when he loved it so much.”

“He’s a big boy. He’ll do what’s best for himself. If he loves it that much, he’ll have to decide on his own to go back. If he doesn’t, it means he really doesn’t want the job.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Mitch got out of the chair. “I should be going, too. I’ll have a lot to do tomorrow.”

“Can you let me know if anything happens?”

“Sure. Thanks for the loan of the porch.”

“Anytime.”

Lorna watched Mitch drive away, much as she’d watched T.J. leave. She leaned over the porch rail for a few minutes and watched the last of the season’s fireflies dot the growing blackness out near the field. The heavy scent from the orchard reminded her that autumn was closing in. She was about to go inside when headlights turned into the driveway. She watched the police cruiser pull to a stop.

“Lorna,” Chief Walker greeted her curtly as he got out of the car.

“Hello, Chief.” She stood her ground on the porch.

“I just wanted to give you a heads-up.” He stood at the end of the brick walk, hands on his hips, looking more than a little formidable. “The DA’s dropping the charges against Billie Eagan. While I don’t know that I totally agree, the preliminary hearing was set for Wednesday, and he doesn’t feel he has enough evidence to make it through right now. Doesn’t mean he can’t refile, but for now Billie’s off the hook. I thought you should know.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that. And Billie knows this?”

“Just stopped out to tell her myself.” He looked like he wanted to say more on that subject but apparently decided against it.

Instead, he asked, “Any idea where the FBI fellow went when he left here? Guess I just missed him, eh?” he said, as if to let Lorna know that he knew she was harboring the enemy.

“I didn’t ask where he was going.”

“Well, I guess I can call his cell phone,” Walker grumbled, clearly unhappy to have to deal with Mitch in any capacity. “I have to tell you, I for one am not happy to have him around. This is my town, my investigation. Nothing would please me more than to see him leave. You can go ’head and tell him that, as you’re so buddy-buddy.”

“He’s a friend of a friend. But maybe in the long run, it will work to your benefit, having the FBI involved.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Supposing it turns out that someone local is involved. You want to be the one slapping the cuffs on?”

He started to answer, then stopped, as if mulling over what she had said.

He shrugged. “Depends on the local, I guess.”

“Well, I overheard Agent Peyton tell someone on his cell phone that he’s looking strongly at all the boys-men now-who were around both nights the Eagan kids disappeared.” No tales out of school here. She knew Mitch had already had this conversation with Walker. “You know all those families-the Keelers, the Conrads. Oh, and the Laffertys.”

She paused to let that last name sink in, then continued.

“You know, I saw that piece on the news the other day, about how Melinda’s disappearance was your first big case after joining the force, and how ironic it was that the case has resurfaced now that you’re chief, and how nice it would be, with you getting ready to retire this year, to have this case off the books. I was thinking how tough it must be, with a police force the size of ours, to keep the investigation going, while at the same time keeping up with all the normal duties the force is responsible for.”

“It’s been a bitch. What’s your point?”

“Well, my point is, with the FBI working with you, they can take a lot of the heat off your department. Plus, they have resources that the Callen PD probably doesn’t have, right?”

“True enough.” His expression never changed even as he nodded in agreement.

“So if they can help you solve the case, it will only be to your advantage. Especially if someone from Callen turns out to be a suspect, someone whose family you know.” She looked at him meaningfully to let it sink in-Dustin Lafferty-and he got the message. She could almost hear the explanation he’d be offering. Now, Nancy, you know I would never have called your boy in for questioning, but the FBI…

“Seems to me it’s a win-win situation for you,” Lorna said.

“Seems like it’s a colossal pain in the ass, all the way around. I wish to God none of this had ever happened.”

“There are four-maybe more-young men who’d no doubt share that same wish, Chief.”

“I’ll keep you informed, Lorna,” he said as he walked back to his car.

“Thanks, Chief. I’d appreciate it.” She went as far as the end of the walk. “Oh, by the way, Chief? Does the name Claude Raymond Fleming mean anything to you?”

He paused in mid-stride, then turned around.

“Where’d you come up with that name?”

“I just heard it.”

He scratched the back of his head. “It rings a bell, but I don’t know why. Not a name I’ve heard recently, but it has a familiar sound.”

“Was it someone local?”

“I don’t recall.”

“If you remember where you heard it, would you let me know?”

“Sure.” He got into the car and slammed the door. It echoed across the quiet yard between the house and the trees.

She waved as he passed by and wasn’t particularly surprised when he failed to wave back. She stood out in the drive for a few minutes, watching the stars fight their way through the haze of clouds, then went inside the house. In the dining room, she sat at her laptop and prepared the accounts payable and receivable reports for several clients and transmitted them via email. She’d gotten halfway through a profit-and-loss statement when she realized she was close to falling asleep at the table. She saved her work, turned off the computer, and locked up the house.

Lorna made her way upstairs, mentally compiling a list of things to do in the morning. Finish the P &L for her client, make a run to the supermarket-and oh, yes, take her mother’s ashes down to the pond.

Lorna was still drying her hair with a towel when the phone rang. The clock on her bedside table read eleven-thirty. She reached across the bed to grab the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Lori? It’s Rob.” He cleared his throat. “Is this too late to call?”

“No, no. I just got out of the shower. It’s fine, Robbie,” she assured him, wondering what was up. Rob never called. “How are you? Is everything all right?”

“Sure. Fine. Listen, I keep seeing all this stuff on the news out here, about this Body Farm thing. It’s our farm, right?” His voice held a hint of the incredulous. “It seems so surreal.”

“Tell me about it. And yes, it’s our farm, and surreal is exactly right. Law enforcement agencies-Callen PD, the county detectives, the FBI-everywhere you look, media vans parked all along the roadway. Mostly I ignore them, but I know they’re there. And I’ve stopped watching the news. I don’t want to see any more.”

“Well, these guys-these dead guys-they have any idea who killed them?”

“The FBI thinks it’s someone local, someone who lived here then who still lives here now. I don’t suppose I’m giving away any secrets by telling you they’re concentrating on the guys who were around the nights Melinda and Jason disappeared.”

“Like who?”

“Like the Keelers, like Dustin Lafferty.”

“Oh, good.” He added somewhat hastily, “Makes sense that they’d suspect the guys who were around those nights. Yeah, that makes sense.”

“It’s a starting point.”

“One thing the media hasn’t said much about is Melinda. Do the police believe she was killed by the same person who killed all those guys?”

“I don’t think anyone really knows right now what happened to Mellie. No body’s been discovered, but then again, there’s a lot more to dig up in the field. And why someone who seems fixated on boys of a certain age would want to kill a nine-year-old girl, that doesn’t really add up.”

“Unless she saw something the killer didn’t want her to see,” Rob said softly.

The hair on the back of Lorna’s neck rose.

“Rob, what do you think she might have seen?”

“Nothing. I mean, I don’t have anything in mind. I don’t know why I said that.” His laugh sounded tinny, false. “It was just a thought. Anyway, the real reason I called was to apologize. I was mean to you when you called Monday. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted. I pretty much forgot about it, to tell you the truth. I figured I woke you out of a sound sleep and chalked it up to that.”

“Thanks, Lorna. You always were the best.”

“Well, if not the best, then a damned close second.”

He laughed, and it sounded more natural this time. “Gran used to say that all the time.”

“She did.”

“How are you moving along with the sale of the house?”

“I’m not.” She hastened to add, “But I will be. As soon as I can. Things have been a little hectic here, and with all the notoriety surrounding the property, I don’t know that this is the best time to put it on the market. We might get a better price if we wait.”

“I guess a real estate person could give you a better idea of that. When you can get to it. I know you have your business to take care of, too. I guess Andrea and I are lucky that you’re there to handle all of this for us. I don’t think I thanked you, but I’m thanking you now.”

“I appreciate that, Rob. In the meantime, if you need cash, you can always borrow from Mom’s savings, then pay the account back after the property is sold.”

“That would be great, Lori. I could use a little help right now. I’m starting a new job in another week, a new restaurant down near Brentwood, but in the meantime, I’ve got some bills backed up.”

“Give me your account number and I’ll have the bank make a wire transfer.”

He put the phone down while he looked for his banking information, then gave her what she’d need.

“I really appreciate this, Lori. I really do.” He paused, then asked, “But you’ll tell me when they make an arrest, right? You’ll let me know when this is over?”

“Of course I will,” she assured him. “Rob, are you sure there isn’t something bothering you?”

“Positive. Look, you just keep me up-to-date with what’s happening out there,” he said, suddenly his old self again. “You’ll send me some money, and I’ll let you get some sleep. Love you, Lori.”

“Love you, too, Rob.” The phone went dead in her hand, and as she hung up, Lorna couldn’t help but wonder what that call had really been about.