Five

When Kate arrived at the real estate office the next morning, there were a dozen reporters waiting for her, all of them firing questions.

"How many bodies were there?"

"Was it a massacre?"

"Murder or suicide?"

"How long have you known Jack Wyatt? Was he involved in the crime?"

Kate did her best to push through the crowd and get inside.

Melissa was waiting for her at the door with excited eyes. "They were here at six a.m. Did you really find a dozen bodies? Were you with Jack? Were you frightened? Did he, uh, comfort you?"

What the woman was saying was so far from reality that Kate couldn't reply. Tayla's office was straight ahead, and Kate wanted to see her friend. She gave a single knock, went in, closed the door and leaned on it.

Tayla had her back to her and was looking at a computer screen of current listings. "Bad, isn't it?"

"Horrible," Kate said.

Tayla turned and smiled. "Nothing like catastrophe to bond people, is there?" She was tall, slim, and had beautiful gray hair. She was a handsome woman, quite regal-looking, and Kate could see why the sheriff bragged that he was "a Kirkwood." They obviously had good genes.

She motioned to the chair in front of her desk. Kate took it, and they looked at each other.

"You look like your father," Tayla said.

"Do I?" Kate's eyes lit up. "I know nothing about him."

"A charmer, a sweet talker. Could get anyone to do anything he wanted. If he hadn't been younger than me, I would have gone after him." She paused. "Now, tell me what caused all this?" She waved her hand to indicate what was happening outside the office.

"There were two skeletons in the roots of a tree that came down on one of Jack's properties."

"That's it?"

"Yes," Kate said. She wasn't about to hint that they thought they knew who the victims were.

"So how was Sheriff Flynn?"

Kate remembered that the man was related to Tayla. She needed to be tactful. "He... He, uh..."

Tayla leaned forward. "He's a terrible bigot, isn't he?"

"He's number four. Not even close to my three uncles," Kate said, completely deadpan.

The women laughed together.

"Relatives, right?" Tayla said. "You can't choose them. Was he awful to Jack?"

"Dreadful. Sara wanted to punch him, but Jack stopped her."

"Oh, yes. Her boxing. Jack should have let her. Daryl would have been too embarrassed to tell anyone who hit him." Tayla grew serious. "What are we going to do about these?" She picked up a dozen yellow message slips off her desk. "These are requests for you—no one else will do—to show them houses. But I'm betting most of them are reporters trying to get some one-on-one time to question you. All the media think you and Sara and Jack know a lot more than you're telling."

Kate made her face blank. She'd learned early on to conceal what she was thinking.

Tayla leaned back in her chair. "That's your private life and it's none of my business. I had a couple of houses for you to show today, but under the circumstances I think you shouldn't leave the office. Why don't you spend today going over the local listings? Familiarize yourself with them."

In the last week Kate had been over them so often that she knew the square footage of every house for sale in Lachlan. But she didn't say that. She knew when she was being dismissed. "Good idea." She left Tayla's office and went to her own.

The reporters stayed outside, and when Kate went to the kitchenette, they spotted her and came alive like bees when their hive was disturbed. It was going to be a difficult day.

"And Cheryl wanted to be part of that," Kate muttered as she made herself a cup of tea.

At ten, she finally checked her phone. She'd been too cowardly to do it before but now scrolled through the list of missed calls: reporter, reporter, her mother, Alastair. Four more reporters, her mother, Alastair, three reporters. She wasn't about to return the calls of the reporters and she didn't want Alastair to hear the agitation in her voice.

That left her mother, and Kate knew she couldn't postpone that. She braced herself for hysterics, but there were none. All Ava wanted to know was how Sara was treating her.

Images of tears and laughter ran through Kate's mind. What a lot they'd been through in the last twenty-four hours! We, she thought and smiled. She reassured her mother that Sara had been quite courteous. "Mom, did you hear about Lachlan on the news?"

"Oh, yes. Skeletons in a tree, right? Small towns are full of creepy crimes like that. Always secretive. Not like in a city, where they just shoot you out in the open and leave your body on the street where people can find it."

"That's one way to look at it," Kate said, eyebrows raised. "I better go. I'm at work."

"Oh, sure. Make a good impression. 'Bye."

Kate stared at her phone for a moment. What a truly surprising response her mother had given. But then, her mother had been surprising her a lot lately. And when she thought about it, there hadn't been one of her multiday depressions in months.

Next, she called Alastair, but she got voice mail. "I'm sorry I didn't get back to you, but you may have heard that I've been busy. Today I'm fighting off reporters. I'll try to call you this evening. Oh. This is Kate Medlar."

At three, Tayla said that a security company had called and Kate was needed at home. By then everyone had given up trying to work. Kate slipped out the back way and ran to her car. She made two wrong turns, but she finally found Stewart Lane—and wasn't surprised to see two armed guards at the entrance to the road. When the reporters sitting there saw her, they jumped up, but the guards waved her through.

The front door was unlocked and she saw Sara sitting outside in the shade of her screened-in area. Kate joined her. "How are you holding up?"

Sara put down her pen and notebook. "Not bad, considering. Help yourself." She nodded to a pitcher of what looked to be iced green tea.

Kate poured herself a tall glass and sat down on one end of the couch. "Where's Jack?"

"Getting dressed. He didn't get back until six this morning, took a bath, then went straight to bed. I had to wake him up to tell him that the sheriff's coming at four."

Kate groaned. "Mind if I borrow your boxing gloves?"

Sara smiled. "He won't be alone. Some big shot from the Broward County sheriff's office is coming with him. It seems that they not only have information, they believe they have answers."

"You're kidding."

"Wish I were."

Kate sipped her tea and looked at the pool. It had a big spa at one end.

"Do you swim?" Sara asked.

"Not well," Kate said. "What about you?"

"Not a stroke. When Jack isn't on crutches, he does laps. Sometimes Gil and his son use the pool."

"Gil?"

"Jack's foreman. You'll meet him soon. Everyone will want to meet you. What's that look for?"

"I was thinking how normal all this sounds. Relatives, friends. Steps and halves."

"Not what your life has been like?"

"Far from it," Kate said but then smiled. "Except in college. I loved college."

"Me, too!" Sara said. "I—" She broke off when Jack opened the door and came outside.

His hair was wet, his clothes clean, and he was frowning. "Tell me that isn't your sour old green tea."

"It isn't my sour old green tea," Sara said by rote.

Jack poured himself a glass, took a drink, made a face, then sat down on the opposite end of the couch from Kate. "You look tired."

"Thanks," she said. "Hard to believe I don't look my best when the last two days have been so much fun."

"You talk to anyone?" he asked, his eyes on his glass.

"Not really. I just told people about the necklace and how Cheryl wanted to be a newscaster and that your father stole the camera and maybe he killed her. Not much."

Jack was blinking at her, eyes wide.

Sara laughed. "You deserved that. We want to hear what happened after we left last night."

"Nothing," Jack said. "Guys from the county came and I told them Cheryl's name. I gave them the necklace and said I'd given it to her. I told them about knowing her when I was a kid and that we were friends. I thought those were all the facts they needed to know."

"Nothing about Roy?" Sara asked.

"I didn't see any reason to bring him into it."

"Roy might have—" Sara began but then stopped.

"I know," he said sharply. "No, I didn't tell them that they'll probably find out that my biological father is a murder suspect. And I don't plan on mentioning it unless I have to. Is there any fruit left?"

Kate said she'd get the basket. She took her time in the kitchen while making up a tray. Cheese was in the fridge, crackers in the pantry, and the basket was full of fruit. She sliced and arranged it and took it outside.

"This is great," Jack said. "Look what she did." He was admiring the food as if it was a feast. "Mustard. And olives. Okay, so what size ring do you want?" His mouth was full.

"Too late," Kate said. "Alastair has already sized me for a family heirloom."

Jack halted, crumbs on his chin, and stared.

Sara and Kate laughed in unison.

Jack groaned. "Yet again, I find myself living in a house full of women. All jokes are at my expense. I'm going to get a beer." He hobbled away on his crutches.

When he was gone, Kate said, "He seems to have perked up since last night."

"Thanks to you. But I doubt if his good mood lasts long. This has hit him hard, and he isn't over Evan's death by a long shot."

"Were there any DUI charges brought against Jack?"

"Why should there be? Evan was driving."

"I thought..." Kate trailed off.

"Jack was in a bar celebrating that he finally got those houses, and he drank too much. He called Evan, his beloved brother, to say how happy he was. Jack was going to get a ride home, but Evan said he'd come get him even though it was after midnight. Evan drove Jack's truck. Jack fell asleep, and...that was it. He woke up when the truck was turning over. Evan was killed instantly." Sara grimaced. "The brake fluid had drained out and Jack thinks it was because he'd driven over some rocks that day. His fault."

"I misunderstood," Kate said. "I'm sorry."

"Gossip. It all goes back to Roy. People are waiting to see if Jack is going to be like him."

"He doesn't seem to be headed in that direction."

Sara grinned as though she'd just heard the greatest compliment ever. Jack appeared with a cold can of beer and four kinds of deli meat.

"You need French bread with that," Kate said.

"That's what I say, but in this house, there's no bread and no sugar."

"Whole Foods is on University," Sara said. "Brand-new and big. They let anybody in, even males."

Jack ignored her comment. "So why aren't you looking at your photos?"

"It didn't seem fair to see them first. As soon as we get rid of the lawmen, I think we should put them on the big TV and look at them together."

"Did you tell the county guys that you'd taken hundreds of photos of the site?" he asked.

"Darn! I forgot to mention that. But I'm sure they have a photographer of their own."

Jack looked at Kate. "They won't be as good as our Sara's. Did you try some of this ham?"

"That is hundreds of calories a bite. I'll stick with the fruit."

"Which is all sugar," Sara said. "Might as well be eating cane sugar with a spoon. You should—"

The doorbell rang.

"Thank you, Lord!" Jack said. "Saved from hearing more about fructose and grams of carbs. If this guy gets too boring, tell him about the glycemic index. He'll leave before you even get to the horror of foods that grow underground. The evil of carrots!"

"That's what I have to put up with," Sara said as she got up to answer the door, but she was smiling as she left the room.

"I guess we better go." Jack stood up and finished his beer. "Are you going to play Little Miss Hostess again?"

"Only if you do your bad-boy act and try to start a fight."

"Deal."

They went inside the house to the living room.

Sheriff Flynn and Sara were with a tall man of Cuban descent who was wearing a suit. He was in his forties, looked to be in good shape, and he was holding a laptop computer and a file folder. From the way he stood in front of Flynn, the man was clearly the boss.

"This is Detective Cotilla," Sara said, her face serious as he reached out to shake hands with Jack and Kate.

Cotilla turned back to Sara. "I just want to say, ma'am, that my wife loves your books. I think she has all of them. I had to build a bookcase just to hold your novels."

"Thank you." Sara managed a small smile.

"I guess we should get to it. Could we sit down?" the detective asked. "I have things to show you."

"Would anyone like something to drink?" Kate asked. "We have—"

"No, thanks," Detective Cotilla said. "We won't take a lot of your time." He and Daryl sat on one of the blue sofas, while Jack, Sara and Kate sat across from them on the other one.

The detective put the computer on the table and opened the file folder. "District Chief Edison—I believe that, locally, he was referred to as ‘Captain'—kept excellent records and we pulled all of them." He looked at Jack with an intense stare. "You were quite young, so I doubt if you know all of what went on."

"Some of it," Jack said. He was leaning against the cushions, his arms spread across the back, looking as though he hadn't a care in the world. But Kate was close enough that she felt him tense up.

Detective Cotilla held up the folder. "I have copies of the reports that Captain Edison wrote about your case."

"My case?" Jack asked.

"The one your father filed about you," Detective Cotilla clarified.

Jack didn't reply, just nodded.

Daryl Flynn was watching in silence, a smile on his face that was very near to being a smirk.

"Everything is from the summer of 1997. The first report is of Roy Wyatt accusing Cheryl Morris of molesting his eleven-year-old son."

Again, Jack nodded, but he said nothing.

Sara took the paper and Kate leaned toward her to read it. It was written in the police procedural way, telling only the facts, but it managed to convey Roy's anger. Jack had told the same story, but this time, the sympathy went to Roy. He was portrayed as an angry man who was looking out for the well-being of his young son.

Sara handed the paper to Jack, but he didn't take it. She put it on the table.

The second report told of Captain Edison going to the site with a very agitated boy, Jack Wyatt, to check on his "girlfriend." The report told of the house having been cleaned out, as though the tenants had left in a hurry. There was mention of the boy's distress and it was noted that, contrary to what the father had said, the boy didn't seem to have been abused.

"He wasn't abused," Kate said. Jack wasn't defending himself and Sara was silent, so she spoke up.

But Sara put her hand on her niece's arm. "What else do you have?"

Detective Cotilla held out another report. "As I said, Captain Edison was a very thorough man. After the boy—" he glanced at Jack "—came to him, the captain revisited Roy Wyatt. He wanted a clearer picture of what had gone on that summer." He handed the women the pages.

Captain Edison wrote that when he told what he'd found, Roy got very angry. He said that yes, he'd gone back to the Morris house and demanded that Cheryl stay away from his son. He said Cheryl had given him a cock-and-bull story about her and Jack taking pictures of each other. She even showed him a camera that had Henry Lowell's name etched on the side.

Roy said he demanded the return of the camera and all the film that had been shot with it. The young woman gave all of it to him and he left.

The captain said Roy stated that when he returned home he watched the films and was sickened. He wanted to take it all to the sheriff, but he didn't want to humiliate his son by letting others see what had been done to him. But to prove what he was saying, Roy had cut pieces of the videos out and put them on DVD, which he turned over to Captain Edison.

Jack was still leaning back, still refusing to participate in what was going on. But when Sara handed him the third paper, he read it.

They all saw the blood creep up Jack's neck and into his face.

When Kate and Sara leaned back onto the cushions beside Jack, the three of them presented a unified front.

Jack handed the paper to Kate and she put it on the table. Sara nodded toward the computer. "I guess you have the DVD that Roy made."

"Yes, we do." Detective Cotilla flipped open the laptop and turned it on. "Sorry, but there's no sound."

The first video was of an eleven-year-old Jack sitting at a table staring at the camera. He was a very pretty boy. Dark hair with curls, thick eyelashes and eyebrows, full lips.

Kate turned to look at him but he was staring at the screen.

They saw the back of a blonde female head go to him and kiss his cheek. When she walked away, her face couldn't be seen, but Jack looked like he was about to melt. Young love was in his eyes. It would have been sweet except for what they knew had happened.

The next clip was a profile of Cheryl. Just her cheek could be seen, but her body was in clear view. She was built! A tight red skirt hugged her curvy backside and showed off her little waist. She had on dark hose and four-inch heels.

She was bending over Jack, who was curled up on the floor. The lack of sound didn't hide the fact that he was saying, "No! No!" From Jack's story, they knew he was laughing, but in the video, it looked like he was begging her to stop—but she wouldn't.

The third clip was the worst. It showed Cheryl sitting behind an old table, talking to the camera. She was pretty, yes, but what made Kate involuntarily suck in her breath was that the girl looked to be in her late twenties, maybe older. She had on a lot of makeup. Her shoulder-length hair had been twisted back into a soft chignon, and she wore pearl earrings. Her white shirt didn't hide her impressive bust.

No one seeing the film would believe she was just fifteen years old.

When she stopped talking, her pretty face turned to anger. Or, actually, rage. She stood up and again they saw the curves of her. No wonder the boys were after her! Kate thought.

The camera recorded her stalking forward in her very tall heels. Her arm shot out.

In the next second, she pulled young Jack into view. She had him in a scissor hold, his head smashed against her breast. She rubbed the top of his head hard with her knuckles. The boy struggled to get away, but she held him and kept rubbing.

The video ended abruptly and Detective Cotilla put down the lid. He waited a moment, then handed Kate the fourth report.

This time, Jack read it with them. Captain Edison wrote that he was disgusted by what he'd seen and he wished Cheryl Morris hadn't run away. He would very much like to arrest her for corrupting a minor. But all he could do was send her photo to a few surrounding states and hope to find her.

After that were five yearly notes saying that there was no news of either of the women.

They put down the papers and looked at Detective Cotilla.

"That's it," he said. "That's all of what happened." He looked at Jack. "I've read your father's rap sheet, and based on what I've seen of his temper, I think he saw the films and he went back. There was probably a fight and it got out of hand."

He waited for Jack to reply but he said nothing. "We know that the mother of this, uh...Cheryl—" he seemed to be sickened by saying her name "—supplemented her income with prostitution. Her daughter didn't have a good role model, but even so, what she did to a young boy..."

As he looked at Jack with pity, he withdrew a business card from his jacket pocket and held it out to him.

Jack didn't take it.

Detective Cotilla put it on the coffee table and Kate picked it up. It was the name and address of a clinic that dealt with adults who had been the victims of child sexual abuse.

"Things like this affect your whole life," Detective Cotilla said with sympathy. "You're what? Past thirty and not married? If you get help, maybe you could—"

Abruptly, Sara stood up. "Thank you both for coming," she said loudly. "We'll keep these documents and go over them." She held her arm out to point them toward the way out.

The detective went to the door, but Flynn held back. He was looking at Jack.

His smirk was gone and he seemed to be sympathetic. "Could have been worse than with that girl. I know a lot of men in this town were waiting for her to follow her mother. Roy told me that—"

Jack came up off the couch, his eyes blazing anger.

Kate stepped between the two men. As before, she put her arm through the sheriff's. "How was your dinner? I bet your speech was enlightening."

The sheriff seemed to be glad for a face-saving way to get away from Jack. He quickened his pace to get to the door. "It wasn't really a speech but the applause was good. It's nice to be appreciated for all I do." He glanced over his shoulder at Jack, who was still standing at the end of the couch.

When they were gone, they went back outside into the lovely Florida weather. Jack started eating, but Kate and Sara just stared into space in silence.

It was all so twisted, Kate thought. It looked like there was going to be no further investigation, which meant that Roy Wyatt's lies were going to win. Based on what she'd seen of the gossip in Lachlan, it wouldn't be long before everyone knew all the facts. Roy's death would end anyone's curiosity about whether he did or didn't do it. It was going to be Jack who would suffer. He'd be labeled as the son of a murderer. Even worse was that it would be said that Roy was right in killing Cheryl Morris. She was the girl everyone thought was so good, but who was actually a child molester. Kate could imagine the videos going viral. There'd be Cheryl dressed up like someone double her age and wrestling a very pretty little boy who kept saying no.

Jack's protests wouldn't drown out a viral video. Besides, didn't victims often side with their abusers?

She looked at Jack and Sara. His jaw muscle was working and Sara's face showed her growing sadness. Kate worried that she might be like her mother and never get out of it.

She took a breath. They couldn't let this beat them. "You sure were the prettiest little boy I ever saw."

Jack looked startled. "When did you see me?"

Sara smiled in a way that let him know she wasn't answering that. "For years, he looked like an angel. But then he reached puberty and he went through a gangly stage. He was too tall, too thin, and he had skin problems. But he turned out rather nice."

Kate looked at Jack like she was a judge in a cattle show. "He's okay now, but the kid... Wow."

Jack's face was beginning to relax. "Cheryl was the beauty."

"Even when I did TV, I didn't wear that much makeup," Sara said. "I can't walk in heels that high."

"She was five foot two and she would have worn stilts if she could get away with it," Jack said.

"The head rub?" Kate asked. "Was that when you gave her the tongue twisters? Rubber baby buggy bumpers? That sort of thing?"

"Yeah. And Peter Piper."

"Roy must have..." Kate didn't want to complete that thought.

Sara picked up a piece of cheese. "He probably went to her house and made a pass at her. Wonder what she did to get him to go away?"

"You can be sure that just the word no didn't do it," Jack said.

"I guess the ‘cock-and-bull story' she told him was about being a newscaster. And she showed videos as proof." For all that Kate had tried to lighten the mood, she was thinking about what that poor girl must have gone through.

"He took the camera and all the films away from her," Jack said.

"When Roy saw that you'd given her something with Henry's name on it, he probably went berserk," Sara said. "He was always insanely jealous of Henry. Cal told me of Roy's threats and complaints about Henry. Sheer jealousy."

"Who's Cal?" Kate asked.

Jack smiled. "My grandfather. The love of our Sara's life. He's why she puts up with me."

Kate looked at Sara questioningly.

"All true." Sara waved her hand. "That doesn't matter. The problem now is that Jack is going to be the one who is persecuted."

Kate nodded. "He'll have to bear the brunt of the rumors that will fly. A father who is a murderer." She sighed. "And he may be thought to be so damaged that he's impotent."

Jack spit out a mouthful of Sara's green tea. "Like hell I am!"

"I think you might have to prove that," Kate said.

"Anytime you want to, baby," he said with hot eyes.

"Not to me, you idiot, but to the whole town."

"Could you two stop playing a scene from one of my romance novels and think about this seriously?" Sara said.

"Jack is going to have this dumped on his head. The question is...what are we going to do about this?"

"I don't see anything we can do," he said. "Obviously, I can't stay in this town. But then, I've always thought I'd like Seattle. Or maybe I'll move to New Mexico. High mountain desert."

Kate and Sara were staring at each other. When they seemed to reach an agreement, they looked at Jack.

"Did I miss something? What are you two thinking? Anybody want a beer?"

"Sit," Sara ordered.

Jack didn't move.

She stared at him. "Do you really and truly believe that your father killed two women, buried them, then planted a tree over their bodies? And that he kept a secret like that until the day he died?"

"No," Jack said. "He might get into a bar fight and smash a head, but..." He took a breath. "If he'd killed Cheryl, it would have been by accident and he wouldn't have had the calm calculation that he needed to cover it up. He sure as hell wouldn't have kept his mouth shut."

"Which he had to do," Kate said. "My impression of your father is that he tended toward flamboyance rather than coldly hiding two murders."

"He certainly never planted a tree in his life," Jack said.

"So..." Sara said. "We agree that Roy probably didn't hide two murders and he certainly didn't plant a tree. However, I think that he did do something to that poor girl that he wanted to hide. He was so worried that she'd report him that he tried to discredit her before she told on him. I think that's the real reason he edited the videos to make her look bad."

"You mean he wasn't doing all that to save the honor of his son?" Jack was sneering.

Sara turned to him. "Was Roy good enough with a computer to do that kind of editing?"

"I don't know," Jack said. "Maybe. But you know Donna. She would have helped him bury the bodies. She worked with the parks department and she did a lot with computers."

"Donna?" Kate asked.

"Roy's mother," Sara said quickly.

"Wait," Kate said. "If she was Roy's mother, then she was Cal's wife." She looked at Sara. "If you loved Cal, why didn't you marry him?"

"The question we all ask," Jack said. "Everyone in this town wants to know the answer to that one."

Sara shook her head. "Neither of you two could ever write a novel. You need to stay on point. If Roy didn't kill Cheryl, who did?"

They were silent for a moment.

Jack said, "If I say that we should try to solve this twenty-year-old murder—which, by the way, is impossible to do—can we order in pizza?"

"Four kinds of cheese," Sara said.

"Just sauce and a very thin crust for me," Kate said.

Jack took out his cell. "I want everything but anchovies." He called and ordered, then they looked at one another in silence.

"Where do we begin?" Kate asked.

"With her," Sara said. "With Cheryl. What was going on in her life that backfired so much that someone wanted to kill her?"

Jack leaned forward. "Aren't you two forgetting something?" There was no reply. "Cheryl's mother. If she's the second skeleton, that is. From the sound of it, she slept with several men in town. Maybe she blackmailed one of them, then got greedy. Wanted more than they were willing to give and they got fed up."

"Are you saying her death was her own fault?" Kate said. "Are you really going to blame the victim? It's more likely that one of the slimy bastards who took advantage of her financial problems got scared and did away with her."

"Or that," Jack said.

"You both make good points," Sara said. "So where do you two think we should start?"

"With Cheryl," Kate said.

"The mother, Verna," Jack said. "Cheryl was so young that I believe she was collateral damage."

"Beautiful young girl who was wanted by lots of boys and men but she told them no," Sara said. "That must have generated a great deal of anger. Then there was Verna, who wasn't saying no to any man who had a checkbook."

"Or woman," Jack said.

Kate rolled her eyes.

Sara stood up. "I need a notebook. We have to figure out what we know and what we need to find out." She looked at Jack. "I want you to think back to your time with Cheryl. When you weren't drooling over the girl and/or trying to mess up her work, who did she talk about? Did any of those randy boys in high school interest her?"

"None of them," he said.

"She only liked you?" Kate said. "A gorgeous fifteen-year-old girl was only interested in an eleven-year-old boy who looked like an Italian castrato? And if you don't know, that's a—"

Jack put his hand up. "Don't translate. I get it. Let me think about this. It was a while ago."

"I'm going to change clothes," Kate said.

"I'm going to get the photos," Sara said.

"And I'm going to enjoy the quiet," Jack said.