by Robin James
“Stop it!”
I set the umbrella down. I put a hand out, meaning to grip Aubrey’s shoulder. She pulled away so violently it nearly knocked me back. It was a visceral reaction. When her eyes met mine, hers looked like a scared animal’s. Her truth flooded through me. Except I still needed her to say it.
“Did he touch you? Aubrey? Did Coach D …”
She put her hands up to her ears and started rocking back and forth on the ground. “Just stop it. It doesn’t matter. They won’t believe me. They never believe.”
I stood up and went back to the car. The DHS yearbook lay in the back seat and I brought it back to Aubrey, shielding the pages with my umbrella as best I could.
Lindsey Claussen, Chelsea Holbrook, Danielle Ford. “Did you do this? Did you tell Kaitlyn to bring this to me?”
Aubrey’s eyes went wide and she stopped rocking. “She shouldn’t. No. Kaitlyn doesn’t. I don’t know where that came from.”
“Did you kill him?!”
“No!” Aubrey screamed. “No!”
I let out a hard breath I’d been holding for weeks. I hooked a hand beneath Aubrey’s arm and guided her back to the car. It seemed like she had no more tears left as she sagged against the dashboard. I kept a roll of paper towels in the back seat too. They were woefully inadequate but I tried to at least wipe Aubrey’s face.
“Why?” I asked. “Why did you tell the police you did this?”
“You don’t understand. Those cards? Those flowers? They won’t believe me. I just wanted it all to be over.”
“He hurt you,” I said. “That night?”
Aubrey shook her head. “No. I just needed somebody to talk to. I was a sophomore. His office was next to the cafeteria and I just had a few minutes between classes.”
My stomach started to roil. Once she started, a dam burst in Aubrey. Her words came out of her in an unbroken stream of rage, sadness, terror.
“He didn’t say things like most grown-ups say. He didn’t say things would be all right. He knew sometimes they weren’t. I trusted him. He let us hold student meetings at his house sometimes. One time my dad was late picking me up. It was just a back rub. He said I was tense and I was. It didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.”
When Aubrey finally paused, I spoke as gently as I could. This had to come from her. I couldn’t force her to say things she wasn’t ready to admit. She turned to me, her eyes going hollow.
“I told him no. He was so big. So much stronger. Then I thought maybe if I just closed my eyes and pretended I was somewhere else it would help. It did. The first time.”
The first time. There were others. God. Of course there were others.
“You were a sophomore,” I said. “Aubrey ... when was …”
“He liked me. He said I was one of the special ones. Everyone thought I was so lucky that Coach D stuck up for me. They’re so stupid. They are all so stupid.”
“Where did it happen, Aubrey?”
She drew her knees up to her chin. Her tennis shoes were caked with mud.
“Every day sometimes. In the beginning. In his office. Sometimes at his house. I tried to stop him. Cass, I promise. I couldn’t tell anybody. They all love him. He knew I was east-end trash to everybody else. Nobody would believe me. And they didn’t.”
The air burned in my lungs like acid. “Aubrey, who did you tell?”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “I tried to tell Mr. Sydney.” Kevin Sydney was the athletic director. From the new tears that fell down Aubrey’s cheeks, I didn’t have to guess how that confession went.
“I’m so sorry, Aubrey. It wasn’t your fault. You know that, right? You were a kid. We’re talking about a grown man in a position of authority over you.”
She sniffled. “I know that. I mean, I’ve read all the stuff. It’s just ... it’s different when it happens to you.”
“Did it ever stop? You graduated a year ago,” I said.
She nodded. “Kind of. But he kept calling me. I even changed my phone. But he’d show up at Dewar’s. He didn’t come near me in the same way, but it was like he wanted to make sure I wasn’t ever going to say anything.”
“Did you tell Kaitlyn?”
“She knows,” Aubrey answered. “I told her a few months ago finally. She’s been on at me ever since to go to the police.”
Aubrey needed a different kind of help than I could provide. I wanted to get her into a professional who worked with abuse survivors as soon as possible. But there was still one last truth she needed to tell.
“Why did you have her bring this yearbook to me?”
Aubrey shook her head. “I didn’t. I swear. I made Kaitlyn swear never to say anything. I didn’t want him coming after her too.”
“But you told someone, didn’t you?”
She leaned back against the seat. “I told my parents.”
I didn’t need to ask her how they reacted. A final truth slammed into place. “Aubrey, do you know who killed Coach D?”
Silence.
“Why did you want to meet with him that night?”
“I wanted to get him to admit everything on tape. I started to hear some rumors that maybe there was another girl at school he was messing around with. I couldn’t live with that and not say something.”
“Did your father know where you were going that night?” Dan Ames’s rage took on new meaning.
“Don’t,” she said. “I can’t lose him. I can’t lose my dad over this. My mom and Sean can’t lose my dad over this.” One more piece slammed into place.
“Aubrey, tell me the truth. Was this your father? Is it him you are trying to protect? Honey, you can’t. Do you think it’s okay if they lose you?”
That did it. Aubrey broke. She broke, sobbing, her voice rising to a high-pitched, hysterical level. She smashed her fist against the window again and again.
“Shh. Aubrey!” I wanted to hug her but knew better than to touch her without her coming to me first. I wanted to tell her it would be okay, but I knew in my heart it might never be.
Then she did come to me. Aubrey collapsed in my arms and started to shake. I smoothed the hair from her face and let her cry herself out.
“Will you help me?” she asked, her voice raw and cracked.
I smiled down at her. “Yes,” was my simple answer. But, God help me, I wasn’t sure how.
Chapter 16
At four in the morning in the middle of Dan Ames’s living room, I watched a grown man break. I brought Aubrey back there when she finally felt strong enough to face her parents again. Her words were slow and quiet as she told her father why she confessed to a crime she hadn’t committed.
“Baby,” he whispered as his tears flowed. Diane Ames stood behind him, leaning against the wall at the entrance to the hallway. It was as if she thought that little bit of distance and an out could protect her from the words her daughter spoke.
“It’s all my fault,” Aubrey said. “If I hadn’t told you. If I had just kept the secret everything could have gone back to normal.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No. No. It’s my fault. Mine and your mother’s. We should have suspected. I let that monster into our lives. This wasn’t for you to make right. It was my job.”
He lifted his head, focusing his red-rimmed eyes on me. “I’ll do it. I’ll go to the police. I’ll tell them I did it.”
“No!” Diane cried. She didn’t move from her position in the hallway, but her face turned white.
“Dan,” I said. “I need the truth. All of it. Before you do anything, I want you to talk to your own lawyer. I can help you find …”
“Enough!” Diane’s eye twitched as she moved into the room and sank into the seat beside her husband. “Not one more word. Dan didn’t do this. Tell her. She wants the truth. He didn’t do this. He has an alibi.”
Diane Ames was coming apart at the seams. She was torn between protecting her husband and her child and right then, it didn’t look like she could do
both.
“No more lies,” I said. “Tell me what you know.”
Dan punched the side of the couch. When he looked up, he fixed his stare on Aubrey. “I’m so sorry, baby. I wish I’d done it. I should have. I wanted to. Cass, I told her I would. She heard me swear it. Only, I didn’t get the chance.”
“Where were you on the night of June 22nd?” I asked. “The whole truth.”
Dan’s shoulders dropped. “I was getting drunk at Mickey’s.”
“Did anyone see you there?” I asked.
“Everyone saw me there. We were watching the playoffs. Half the damn town was there. I was so damn angry. It started off with beer, then I moved to the hard stuff. Scotty was working the bar. I stayed all the way until closing. They took my keys and put them on the wall. Scotty put me in a cab and sent me home. I think it was after two in the morning.”
I let out a sigh. “I can check that easily enough. Mickey’s has security cameras all around the bar. The cab company will have records. If you’re telling me the truth …”
“I am,” Dan said, defeated. “But I wish like hell I wasn’t.”
“Aubrey,” I said. “Who else knew about you and Coach D? Who did you tell?”
“I told Kaitlyn earlier this year. I don’t know if she told anyone else. I don’t think so. I made her swear not to. I told you, I tried to complain to Mr. Sydney, but he wouldn’t meet with me. I kept trying to schedule it and his secretary kept calling to tell me he had to cancel. Then Coach D found out I was trying. He went nuts. He made it pretty clear no one would believe me. He told me he’d ruin my family if I tried. I believed him. He had the means.”
“The yearbook,” I said. “You have no idea who might have dropped that off in my office? And the girls. Lindsey Claussen, Danielle Ford, Chelsea Holbrook. Did you try talking to any of them?”
Aubrey shook her head. “I heard rumors. I tried talking to Lindsey. She’s the only one I knew a little bit. I barely got more than Coach D’s name out. She shut down pretty quick after that. She said she couldn’t talk to me and hung up on me. I knew a couple of those other girls quit the track team so I tried to connect the dots. But it was so hard to know who to trust. Coach D was right. He said it would be my word against his. But I never said anything to Kaitlyn about Lindsey or the other girls.”
“Dan,” I turned to him. “How long have you known about what Coach D did to Aubrey?”
He and Diane exchanged a glance. “She told us at the end of April.”
“And you didn’t tell anyone? Not the police? No one?” I knew it sounded like judgment. Maybe it was, a little. But I had to know who else might have a motive to kill Larry Drazdowski. If the police were no longer going to investigate, I had no choice but to try.
Dan hesitated. Something flickered in his eyes and I got the distinct feeling he was about to lie to me again.
“Listen,” I said. “There can’t be any more secrets. The weight of them has come pretty close to burying this family already. You’re in a hole and I need you to stop digging.”
“Nobody,” Dan said. “We kept it in the family. And I know I’ve failed my daughter in every way a father can. If I could take the rap for this now, I would. But they’ll know I’m lying.”
“You’re right,” I said. “No more lies. For better or worse, we all need to live with the truth now.”
“What do we do now?” Diane asked. Sean Ames appeared in the hallway. He too had been crying. He must have been listening in all along.
I paused for a moment. I’d just asked this family for the truth. I owed it to them to give mine. “I don’t know,” I said. “I need some time to try and track down some leads. I have to be honest with you. We’ll face an uphill battle even getting a jury to hear all of the claims you have against Coach D.”
“What?” Dan erupted. “They have to know what he was. What he did.”
I put a hand up. “I know that. But the prosecution will have a pretty strong argument to keep it out. Coach D isn’t on trial. No matter how much of a monster he was, the fact remains, he was murdered.”
“Then he did it,” Aubrey said. “He won. Just like he said he would.”
I leaned forward and took one of her hands in mine. “I said it would be an uphill battle. I didn’t say we’d lose it.”
“But you’ll help?” she asked, her voice wavering. “You’ll stick with me?”
“You bet your ass I will,” I said, giving her a wink. “I don’t know how, but I’m going to find a way.”
Aubrey crumpled with relief. She sank against her father’s shoulder. He caught my eye. This family was broken and bleeding. I was the only thing standing in the way of them and hell. But I could feel Aubrey’s strength as she looked at me. God help us all, we might go right off a cliff together. To save her, it looked like I’d have to catch a killer all by myself.
Chapter 17
Friday morning, things got even worse. Judge Castor, the circuit court judge who would preside over Aubrey’s trial, shot down both of my motions. He refused to remove the case to another county, and he wouldn’t throw out her confession.
I didn’t know how to read Felix Castor yet. Since starting back up in Delphi, this was only the fourth time I’d appeared in front of him. The words I’d heard used to describe him were things like sharp-shooter, no-nonsense, erudite. Also, that he hated lawyers and rarely took the bench without already knowing precisely how he would rule. In this instance, I was toast before I said one word.
Castor sat on the bench and twirled the ends of his handlebar mustache. He was deeply tanned from his weekend golf games. It was small comfort, but he did throw me one small bone as he glared at Jack LaForge.
“Jack, this is horseshit and you know it,” he said. “You gonna stand there and tell me you couldn’t figure out how to give Ms. Leary a call before all this went down?”
Jack’s jaw dropped as he shuffled papers on the table. Everyone in this room knew the answer, though I doubted Jack LaForge would ever admit it. But the judge had already ruled. The confession would be admitted at trial. The jury would hear it all. Judge Castor’s outrage was small comfort as he banged his gavel and called his next case.
I got the hell out of that courtroom as quickly as I could. Jeanie was waiting for me at my office. She took the news about Castor’s ruling in stride. Then she dropped a bomb of her own.
“You’re absolutely sure?” I asked her for about the fourth time. She was getting annoyed with me, but I felt like I needed to hear her say it again. Each time, it stabbed through my heart just a little more and I hoped it wasn’t true.
Jeanie coughed into her fist. She sat at the conference room table. Miranda kept popping in trying to make her drink water.
“Cass ... I’m sure. It’s better you don’t know my methods. But yeah. This information is ironclad. And truthfully, it wasn’t that hard to find out. I just …”
“Right,” I said, holding a hand up. “Better I don’t know.” Jeanie worked with an investigator who had less than scrupulous morals. I only knew his name was Pete but that might not even be true. She’d been looking into the names circled in that yearbook.
“Chelsea Holbrook is in the wind somewhere; her family moved to Tennessee right after she graduated. They won’t return my calls. Lindsey Claussen was a track star all through junior high. She crapped out her Freshman year though. Danielle Ford committed suicide two years ago. I’ve still got a call into her mother. She moved to Florida to the Villages. I know somebody close. But Claussen. That’s the low-hanging tree you wanna bark up.”
I smiled. Jeanie certainly knew how to mix a metaphor. “And she’s at Mickey’s,” I said. “Aubrey already told me that.”
“You still sure she isn’t the one who left this book for you?”
“I don’t know anything anymore.”
“Well, it looks like you need to make a trip to Mickey’s,” Jeanie said.
“Looks like. You up for a road trip?”
“Wish li
ke hell I could,” Jeanie said. “I could use a beer. But no, I need to get on home.”
Jeanie had just finished her last course of chemo and was discharged from Maple Valley last week. She was putting on a brave front, but I knew she was terrified about her scans in two weeks. Anyone would be. She didn’t know I knew exactly when her appointment was. Like it or not, I planned to be right by her side.
“Just call me after you know something,” Jeanie said, sighing. “I’m tired as fuck.”
Chapter 18
Later that night, I pulled into the parking lot of Mickey’s Bar. The place was packed like always. There was an MMA on pay per view and Mickey’s catered hard to that crowd. I checked Lindsey Claussen's yearbook picture one more time. She was sixteen in it. She’d be twenty-one now.
I spotted Lindsey right away. She’d barely changed at all from her yearbook picture except for one thing. As she whipped her ponytail around, I saw she’d dyed the end of it a bright blue against her dark brown hair. She served a tray of drinks to a booth near the bar. She was pretty. Stunning even, with wide-set dark eyes and a dimple in her right cheek. It struck me for a moment how much she looked like Aubrey. Tall, but reed thin with a willowy quality to her movements. A pit formed in my stomach. Was I looking at Coach D’s type?
I asked the hostess to seat me in Lindsey’s section. A booth had opened up in the corner. It would be perfect, far away from the big-screen TVs broadcasting the fight. No one would be paying attention to this part of the bar.
I waited a few minutes and Lindsey came by with a menu and a glass of water. She had a bright smile but it faltered as soon as she met my eyes. She knew me. I thought I would have to work my way into a conversation with her. Maybe even use today as a sort of icebreaker. But Lindsey nearly dropped her tray before she got a word out. She tried to recover and plastered her smile back on.
