Thicker Than Water

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“I figured you’d be calling sooner or later,” Ahnert said.

“We need to talk,” Louis said.

There was a silence on the other end of the line. “All right,” Ahnert said. “I’m on duty. You’ll have to come out to the substation.” He gave directions and hung up without another word.

Louis was an hour’s drive into the wasteland of the Corkscrew Preserve before he saw the radio tower that Ahnert had told him to watch for. It led him to a sun-bleached cinderblock building set in the flat gray-green scrub land, land that looked untouched by the recent hard rains. There were no trees, nothing to give shelter from the sun. The only break in the monotonous landscape was the line of electrical towers marching like skeletons to the horizon.

Louis parked next to the Lee County Sheriff’s Department cruiser in front. As he got out of the Mustang, he saw Bob Ahnert emerge from the building.

Why was Ahnert wearing the standard green uniform? He was a detective, wasn’t he? Louis’s eyes dipped to the name tag on Ahnert’s shirt. SGT. AHNERT. Had the guy been busted in rank? Is that why he was sitting out in a substation in the middle of nowhere?

Ahnert removed his glasses, drew out a handkerchief and started to wipe them.

“You must want something pretty bad to drive all the way out here,” he said, putting his sunglasses back on and resting his hip against his cruiser.

“I know now what was missing from Kitty’s homicide file,” Louis said. “The second lab report. That’s what you were talking about, wasn’t it?”

Ahnert drew a cigar out of his breast pocket and lit it. He didn’t have to cup a hand; there wasn’t one whiff of a breeze out here.

“Did you find it?” Ahnert asked.

“No.”

“So that’s why you’re here. You want me to tell you what it said,” Ahnert said.

“Yes.”

Ahnert drew on the cigar. Louis could see his reflection in Ahnert’s sunglasses.

“Is she talking to you yet?” Ahnert asked.

Louis stiffened slightly. “Yes,” he said.

For a moment, Ahnert didn’t move. Louis could hear the faint hum of the electrical lines above. He could feel the sun on his neck.

Ahnert took the cigar out of his mouth. “The semen inside her was blood type AB-negative,” he said.

“That proves Cade didn’t rape her,” Louis said.

“You’re not going to prove anything on my memory,” Ahnert said. “You’re going to have to find that report. Why haven’t you gone back to Duvall’s old defense records?”

Louis shook his head. “I can’t get access.”

Louis waited for Ahnert to say something, but he just chewed on the cigar, watching Louis through the sunglasses.

“I have reason to believe that Duvall buried the semen report and let an innocent man go to prison,” Louis said.

“Duvall was a winner. Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know.”

“What about two killers? You consider that?”

Was Ahnert talking about Cade and Ronnie acting together? It was sickening, the image of Ronnie raping Kitty and then Cade killing her to shut her up. Was that what Cade meant by blood being thicker than water?

“Cade and Ronnie. . together?” Louis asked.

Ahnert said nothing, just moved the cigar to the other side of his mouth.

“Sergeant,” Louis said, “was that where you were going with this twenty years ago?”

A lone white egret took sudden flight and Ahnert watched it rise and disappear against the bleached sky. “April 9th. That’s the day she was killed. I remember it was hot, like summer was coming early.” He paused. “ ‘April is the cruellest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain.’ ”

He looked back at Louis. “It doesn’t matter where I was going twenty years ago.”

“It mattered. It still does,” Louis said. “I think you still want to solve this case. I think you’re the only one who does.”

“Besides you, you mean.”

“Yes.”

Ahnert was silent for a long time, looking out over the desolate landscape.

“It’s over for me,” he said. “She’s yours now.”

Louis was surprised to hear a hint of relief in Ahnert’s voice. What the hell had happened to this man twenty years ago? Had he been so obsessed with finding Kitty’s killer that it had destroyed his career and the rest of his life?

He suddenly heard Mobley talking to him as he leaned over the bar at O’Sullivan’s.

He stole an item that belonged to the victim. A gold necklace. Some kind of heart-shaped locket. Guess Ahnert needed the money.

Ahnert hadn’t needed the money a cheap gold necklace would have brought, and he wasn’t obsessed with finding Kitty’s killer. It was her he was obsessed with.

“Why did you stop investigating?” Louis asked.

“I was told to.”

Louis shook his head. “I don’t believe that.”

Ahnert finally looked back at Louis. “I was hung up on a dead girl.” He looked away. “It’s sick, isn’t it?”

Louis ran a hand over the back of his neck. It wasn’t the sun that was making him sweat.

“I’m just trying to give her justice,” Louis said quietly.

Ahnert didn’t answer. He tossed the cigar into the sand and squashed it out with his boot. Then he picked a bit of wet tobacco off his lips and flicked it away.

“Forget justice,” he said. “Give her some peace.”