I Know a Secret

Twenty-seven

The sound of a barking dog greeted them as they walked up the porch steps to the modest home of Earl Devine. It was a big dog, by the sound of it, and Maura hung back a few paces, imagining fur and teeth flying out at them as Holly opened the front door. The black Lab seemed far less interested in the visitors than in Holly, who knelt down to grasp its head in her hands.

“So you came home on your own, you bad boy,” she scolded. “That’s the last time I go looking for you.”

“Who are these people, Holly?” demanded a gruff voice. Earl Devine glowered from the hallway, where the lights cast a yellowish glow on his face. Judging by his clothes, which hung like drapes on his gaunt frame, he had recently lost a great deal of weight, but he faced Maura and Jane with arms flexed and hands closed in fists, as if ready to deliver blows in defense of his daughter.

“I went out searching for Joe and I ran into these ladies at the old daycare,” said Holly. “I guess Joe decided to come back on his own.”

“Yeah, he came back,” Earl said, but his attention remained on Jane and Maura. “Who are you?”

“I spoke to you on the phone, Mr. Devine,” said Jane. “I’m Detective Jane Rizzoli, Boston PD.”

Earl looked at her outstretched hand and finally decided to shake it. “So you found my girl anyway.”

“You could have saved me a lot of trouble by just telling me where she was.”

Holly said, “I told them you don’t trust people, Daddy.”

“Not even the police?” said Jane.

“The police?” Earl Devine snorted. “Why should I? All I gotta do is watch the news. These days, we’re as likely to be shot by a cop as helped by one.”

“We’re only trying to keep your daughter safe.”

“Yeah, that’s what you said on the phone, but how would I know if you were telling the truth? How would I know you’re really a cop?”

“My dad’s got a reason to be cautious,” said Holly. “There’s a guy who’s been stalking me for a while. I had to change my last name from Devine to Donovan so he couldn’t find me.”

“He kept calling here, asking for her,” said Earl. “He even got some woman to call, said she was a journalist who wanted to talk to Holly. I wasn’t gonna trust you just because you claimed you were a cop.”

“Who was this stalker?” asked Jane.

“Some young man Holly used to know. I never did like the looks of him. He kept coming by here asking about her, but I think I finally scared him off. If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay away from my girl.”

“They’re not here about my stalker, Daddy,” said Holly.

“It’s about the Apple Tree Daycare, sir,” said Jane.

Earl frowned at her. “Why? That happened a long time ago. It’s over and done with, and they sent those people to jail.”

“Martin Stanek has been released. We think he wants revenge against everyone who sent him to prison, and we’re afraid he might come after Holly.”

“Has the man threatened her?”

“No, but three of the children who gave statements against Stanek have recently been murdered. A fourth has gone missing. You can understand why we’re concerned about your daughter’s safety.”

He stared at Jane for a moment, then gave a grim nod. “Let’s hear what you plan to do about him.”

They sat in Earl Devine’s cramped living room, where the frayed sofa and Naugahyde armchairs seemed as if they’d been part of the house for so long they were now melded to the floor. One of the chairs bore the permanent imprint of Earl’s backside, which he now planted onto the cushion. Holly brought out mugs of coffee for the two visitors, but Maura took one look at the stained rim and discreetly set down her cup. She saw stains everywhere — rings on the area carpet from past doggie accidents, cigarette burns on the sofa armrest, a faint veil of mold on the ceiling where rain had once leaked in. There were no books or magazines in sight, only a stack of Pennysavers and newspaper coupons. Throughout the conversation, the television stayed on, an eternally glowing presence in the room.

“Those kids’ names were sealed by the court. That’s what the prosecutor promised us,” said Earl Devine, his gaze hard on Jane’s face. “How did you even know to come looking for Holly?”

“Actually, Mr. Devine, your daughter put herself into the picture.” Jane turned to Holly. “You went to both Cassandra’s and Tim’s funerals. So you must have known they were both murdered.”

Earl frowned at his daughter. “You didn’t tell me you went to their funerals.”

“I needed to find out if their murders were connected,” said Holly. “No one was saying anything.”

“Because at the time no one realized there was a connection between them,” said Jane. “But you knew, Holly. You could have made my job a lot easier by just picking up the phone and calling the police. Why didn’t you call?”

“I hoped it was a coincidence. I wasn’t sure.”

“Why didn’t you call, Holly?” Jane repeated.

Holly stared back at her, momentarily silenced by the sharp tone of the question. Meekly, she dropped her gaze. “I should have. I’m sorry.”

“If you had, Bill Sullivan might still be alive.”

“What happened to Billy?” said Earl.

“He disappeared,” said Jane. “Based on the circumstances of his disappearance and the blood in his car, we believe he’s dead.”

Maura stayed focused on Holly, and she saw the young woman’s head snap up at this latest revelation. Saw genuine shock in her eyes.

“Billy’s dead?”

“You didn’t know about that?” said Jane.

“No. No, I never thought he would be...”

“You said four children were dead,” said Earl. “You’ve only told us about three.”

“Sarah Byrne died in a fire in November. It was classified an accidental death, but it’s now back under investigation. So you can see why we’ve been trying to contact your daughter.” Jane looked at Holly. “Is there some reason you’ve been avoiding the police—”

“Now, wait a minute,” Earl cut in.

Jane lifted a hand to silence him. “I want to hear from your daughter.”

With everyone watching her, Holly seemed to reach deep inside herself for the courage to answer. She straightened and met Jane’s gaze. “It was dead and buried and I wanted it to stay that way. I didn’t want everyone to know.”

“Know what?”

“About the Apple Tree. About what those people did to me. You don’t seem to understand how something like that changes you. Or what it’s like when everyone knows you were molested. When they look at you, the whole time they’re imagining...” She hugged herself and stared down at the stained carpet. “To think it was my mom who made me go to that place. She said it wasn’t safe for me to be home alone after school. She thought there were men lurking behind every bush, waiting to rape me.”

“Holly,” said Earl.

“It’s true, Daddy. That’s the way Mom was, imagining rapists everywhere. So every day I had to climb into his bus, and he drove us there. We were like lambs going to the slaughter.” She raised her eyes to Jane. “You’ve read the files, Detective. You know what happened to us.”

“Yes, I know,” said Jane.

“All because my mother wanted me to be safe.”

“Let go of the bitterness, Holly. Doesn’t do you any good now.” Earl looked at Jane. “My wife had a difficult childhood. Things happened to her when she was a little girl, things she was ashamed of. She had this uncle who...” He paused. “Anyway, it made her terrified that something like that could happen to Holly. She died a few months after the trial ended, probably from all the stress. Holly and I had to fend for ourselves, just the two of us, but I think we’ve managed okay. Look at my girl now! She went to college, got herself a good job. The last thing she needs is for people to dredge up that Apple Tree business again.”

“This is for Holly’s sake, Mr. Devine. We want her to be safe.”

“So arrest the bastard.”

“We can’t, not yet. We need more evidence.” To Holly, Jane said, “I know this is difficult for you. I know these are bad memories. But you can help us send Martin Stanek back to prison for good.”

Holly turned to her father, as if for reassurance. These two seemed uncommonly close, a father — daughter bond forged by years of being alone together, the widower and his only child.

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” said Earl. “Give them what they need. Let’s put that son of a bitch away for good.”

“It’s just that — it’s hard to talk about what Martin — what he did to me — with my dad sitting here. It’s embarrassing.”

“Mr. Devine, would you mind giving us some privacy?” said Jane.

Earl pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll leave you alone to talk. You need anything, sweetheart, you just shout.” He walked away into the kitchen, and they heard water running. The clank of a pot on the stove.

“He likes to cook me dinner when I visit,” said Holly, and added, with a wry smile, “He’s actually a terrible cook, but it’s his way of showing me he cares.”

“We can see how much he cares,” said Maura.

For the first time, Holly seemed to register Maura’s presence. Up till now Maura had been silent, letting Jane conduct the interview, but there were strange emotional currents flowing in this house, and Maura wondered if Jane sensed them. If she had noticed how often father and daughter looked to each other for reassurance.

“For a few months I stopped coming here, because we were afraid my stalker was watching the house. That was really hard for Daddy, not having me visit. He’s my best friend.”

“Yet you can’t talk about Martin Stanek in front of him,” said Jane.

Holly glared at her. “Could you talk to your dad about how a man molested you? How he forced his penis down your throat?”

Jane paused. “No. I couldn’t.”

“Then you understand why he and I never talk about it.”

“But we have to talk about it, Holly. You have to help us, so we can keep you safe.”

“That’s what the prosecutor said: Tell us everything that happened, and we’ll keep you safe. But I was scared. I didn’t want to disappear, like Lizzie.”

“You knew Lizzie DiPalma?”

Holly nodded. “Every day, we rode Martin’s bus together to Apple Tree. Lizzie was so much smarter than me, and so fierce. She would have fought back. Maybe killing her was the only way he could stop her from screaming for help. Or stop her from telling anyone what he’d done to her. She was kidnapped on a Saturday, so none of the kids were there to see it. We had no idea what happened to Lizzie.” Holly drew in a deep breath and looked at Jane. “Until I found her hat.”

“On Martin’s bus,” said Jane.

Holly nodded. “That’s when I knew he did it. I knew I finally had to speak up. I’m just glad my mother believed me. After what happened to her when she was a little girl, she never doubted me. But some of the other parents didn’t believe what their own children were saying.”

“Because some of the other children’s stories were pretty hard to believe,” said Jane. “Timothy talked about a tiger flying in the woods. Sarah said the daycare had a secret basement where the Staneks threw dead babies. But police searched that building, and there was no basement. Certainly there were no flying tigers.”

“Timmy and Sarah were just little kids. It was easy to confuse them.”

“But you can see why some of those statements didn’t pass muster.”

“You weren’t there, Detective. You didn’t have to face the wall of martyrs every day and recite how each one died. Saint Peter of Verona, his head cracked with a cleaver. Saint Lawrence, burned on a gridiron. Saint Clement, drowned with an anchor around his neck. If your birthday fell on a martyr’s day, you got the privilege of wearing the martyr’s crown and holding the plastic palm leaf while everyone danced around you. Our parents thought it was perfectly wholesome! And that’s what made it so insidious. Evil disguised as piety.” Holly gave a shudder. “But after Lizzie vanished, I finally got up the courage to say something, because I knew that what happened to her could happen to me next. I told the truth. That’s why Martin wants his revenge.”

“We’re going to keep you safe, Holly,” said Jane. “But you have to help us.”

“What should I do?”

“Until we have enough evidence to arrest Martin Stanek, it would be a good idea for you to leave town. Is there a friend you can stay with?”

“No. No, there’s just my father.”

“This isn’t a good place. This is where Stanek will expect to find you.”

“I can’t leave my job. I have bills to pay.” She glanced back and forth at Jane and Maura. “He hasn’t found me yet. Shouldn’t I be safe in my own apartment? What if I got a gun?”

“Do you have a permit to carry one?” said Jane.

“Does that matter?”

“You know I can’t advise you to break the law.”

“But sometimes laws don’t make sense. What good are your stupid laws if I’m dead?”

Maura said, “What about police protection, Jane? Assign an officer to watch her.”

“I’ll see what I can arrange, but there’s a limit to our resources.” Jane looked at Holly. “In the meantime, the best way for you to stay safe is to be prepared. Know what to watch for. We believe Stanek is working with someone else, and his partner could be a man or a woman. You can’t let down your guard under any circumstances. We know that two of the victims were drugged with alcohol and ketamine, and this may have happened in a bar. Don’t accept drinks from people you don’t know. In fact, just stay away from anyplace where people are drinking.”

Holly’s eyes widened. “That’s how he does it? He puts something in their drinks?”

“But that won’t happen to you. Now that you know.”

Jane’s cell phone rang, and she answered it with a brisk “Rizzoli.” Maura was startled when, seconds later, Jane shot to her feet and strode outside to continue the call in private. Through the closed front door, she heard Jane demand, “How did this happen? Who the hell was watching him?”

“What’s going on?” said Holly.

“I don’t know. I’m going to find out.” Maura followed Jane outside and closed the front door behind her. There she stood, shivering, waiting for Jane to finish the call.

“Jesus H. Christ.” Jane hung up her phone and turned to Maura. “Martin Stanek’s taken off.”

“What? When?”

“We had a team watching his residence from the street. He slipped out the back door and no one’s seen him since. We have no idea where he went.”

Maura glanced at the window and saw Holly’s face pressed up against the glass, watching them. Softly, she said, “You need to find him.”

Jane nodded. “Before he finds her.”