Placing the soda can on the floor, he looked at Milo, then me. “Pictures from movies his mother had made. Piles of them. He wasn’t embarrassed, just the opposite. Put them right in my face and made gross comments. ‘Look how she takes it all in.’ ‘That’s what she’s doing to your dad, right now.’ I still didn’t want to let on that it bothered me.”
I said, “He was an older kid spending time with you.”
“I have no sibs, in school I wasn’t exactly Mr. Popular. I guess the pictures were also…arousing. Though what that means at nine, who knows?”
“It had to be confusing.”
“I used to go home feeling as if I’d been in a trance. Dad never noticed, after being with Mary he was always in a great mood. The next time we’d go she’d offer me milk and cookies, and I’d flash to her pictures, start feeling dizzy, sure I was giving something away. But no one noticed and the minute Pete and I were alone, out came the box and he’d start in again. Talking about his mother as if she were a piece of meat. What made it especially weird is she made it a point to be friendly to me. Big hug, milk and cookies, the works.”
“Maternal.”
“Like a TV mom—she looked like a TV mom. I’d see that and then minutes later I’d be watching her do three guys, then Pete licking his lips and rubbing himself. Looking back, it’s obvious he enjoyed shocking me. But I kept following him out to the garage.” Blinking. “One day he touched me while he showed me a picture. I jerked away and he laughed, said he was just kidding, he was no fag. Then he opened his own fly and started masturbating.”
He scratched his head hard. “I’ve never told anyone. Maybe if I’d spoken up, Pete could’ve gotten some help.”
I said, “From what I’ve heard about his mother, she couldn’t have been counted on.”
“I know, I know…Dad’s choice in women…but still…”
“It wasn’t your job to fix things, Kyle.”
“No?” He laughed. “So why are we talking about it now? Don’t bother answering, I get it…I guess my point is that whatever Pete’s done, he never had a chance.”
Milo said, “There are always choices.”
“Are there? I can’t even figure out my own calculations, let alone human nature.”
I said, “Welcome to real life. What finally made you ask not to return?”
“Something else happened…oh, Jesus—fine, fine…It was a Sunday, a long weekend—Presidents’ Day, something like that. As usual, Mom was off skiing and Dad and I were home. Off to Mary’s we went, but this time Dad and Mary went to have brunch by themselves. I was nervous about being left alone with Pete but Dad wasn’t paying attention. Pete picked up on my anxiety right away, said, ‘Hey, man, sorry if I grossed you out but I’ve got something totally cool to show you. Something different.’”
His shoulders dropped. “I was relieved. He seemed so jaunty.”
“You were never scared he’d hurt you?”
“I was scared the way you are when you’re playing hide-and-seek and you know someone could be just around the corner. But no, apart from that one time, he never touched me and he was always friendly. I was upset about not spending time alone with Dad. Doing normal father-son things—don’t tell him any of this, he’s tried to the best of his capabilities. His dad mistreated him but he never did that to me.” Deep breath.
I said, “So Pete was jaunty.”
“Stay on topic, Kyle.” Knuckling his brow. “Back to the garage. The ‘different thing’ was another box, full of audiotapes. He said they were bootlegs that he’d learned to splice together to make his own music…He showed me the razors he used to do it, pretty sloppy job. Then he played his homemade cassettes on a boom box. Dreadful, mostly static and white noise and bits of lyric that made no sense. But it was a lot better than looking at his pictures and I told him ‘Cool.’ That made him happy and we shot some hoops, went into the house, had a snack. Cap’N Crunch. Pete drank some wine and tried to get me to try it but I refused. He didn’t push it, he never pushed anything. I trailed him to the garage again like a good little puppy, and he went straight to a refrigerator they kept back there. I’d always seen it bolted with a chain but now the chain was off. It looked as if it hadn’t been cleaned for a while. The only thing inside was a large see-through plastic bag. Inside were what looked like chunks of raw meat. It smelled horrible, despite being sealed. I held my nose, started to gag. He laughed, spread a tarp on the floor—one of those bright blue things gardeners use—and dumped out the contents of the bag.”
His face had gone white. His hand shot to his belly. “Even now, it’s unbelievable…sometimes I still wonder if I dreamed it.” Moments passed. He sucked in breath.
He said, “What he dumped out was animal matter, all right. But not beef or pork.”
Another inhalation.
“Body parts. Guts, limbs, fur, bones, teeth. Heads, too. Squirrels and rats and I think I saw a cat. I just lost it, out came the Cap’N Crunch. Pete thought that was hilarious. Got up and grabbed a fork from a barbecue set they kept out there and used it to push gobs of the stuff around on the tarp. As if he were stir-frying. All the while, he’s laughing. ‘Time for dinner—no, it’s breakfast—no it’s brunch, hey dude, we can have our own brunch.’ Then all of a sudden, he speared a forkful and jammed it right up against my face. I jumped up, still barfing. I tried to get out of the garage but couldn’t. The door was shut, one of those metal rolling dealies, I had no idea how to open it. Pete kept waving the goop, offering it to me, making gross jokes. It reeked beyond belief.”
“Disgusting,” said Milo. Meaning it.
Kyle placed his palms on the rug, braced himself, as if ready to levitate. “I’m screaming and barfing, begging him to let me out. He keeps advancing on me, then he stops, leans against the fridge. Opens his fly and whips it out and takes a gob and puts it there. And touches himself. It didn’t take him long. He was turned on.”
He excused himself to go to the bathroom, came back with damp hair and raw eyes.
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
I said, “How’d you get out of the garage?”
“He finished, let me out, ignored me for the rest of the day.”
“How much contact did you have with him after that?”
“None. I never saw him again.”
“Family obligations never got in the way?”
“What are you talking about.”
“You don’t know?” I said. Wondering if he really didn’t.
“Know what?”
“Lester Jordan—”
“Is his father, yeah, yeah, technically he’s my cousin, but not functionally. There was absolutely no contact. And I didn’t find out about the relationship until years later. Hell, with all of Dad’s running around, I could have cousins all over the world.”
“When and how did you find out Lester was Pete’s father?”
“I was already living in Atherton, it was a couple of years later. I came down to spend time with Dad and he wanted to go see one of his girlfriends. This time I asserted myself and said if he didn’t care about spending one-on-one time with me, I’d go to a museum. He got really apologetic, started beating himself up about being a shitty dad. So of course, I consoled him, told him he was a great dad. Somewhere in the midst of that, the subject of Lester and Pete came up. I believe he’d gone off on a speech about bloodlines, how any good genes I’d gotten were from his side because Mom’s side was a bunch of losers. After the divorce, both of them were doing that to me—bad-mouthing each other.”
I said, “He used Lester as an arguing point.”
“Exactly. Then he dropped in the nugget about Lester being Pete’s father. Made an apple-not-falling-far kind of comment.”
“Sounds like he knew Pete had problems.”
“I guess so.”
“But he didn’t ask if Pete had ever mistreated you.”
“No,” he said. “Dad’s curiosity only extends so far.”
I sa
id, “How’d you find out about Pete’s learning disabilities?”
His eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
I said, “You told Tanya you had a cousin who’d been put on medication to little avail. Or were you referring to someone else?”
“I…no, that was him. I guess I did call him that. But not because I really consider us kin. Tanya and I were having a theoretical discussion. I didn’t think I was going to be parsed.”
“How’d you find out Pete was on meds?”
“He showed me his pills. Mary let him keep the bottle on his nightstand and take them unsupervised. He told me he popped when he felt like having energy.”
“Ritalin?”
“I never read the label, he just called them energy pills, said they’d been prescribed because his school was trying to control him. He said they made him feel good but he still wasn’t going to do any work because school sucked.”
Milo said, “Ever see him take any other drugs?”
“He had a Baggie of weed right out in the open, next to the pills. I saw him roll and smoke a few times. He was also into wine, whatever he’d steal from Mary’s stash.”
“All that and animal guts.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“Why’d you contact Tanya?”
“When Dr. Delaware dropped in here and talked to me about Ms. Bigelow, it got me remembering.”
“Remembering what?”
“That whole period of my life, Lieutenant.”
I said, “Seeing Tanya in the garden.”
“I wasn’t spying, it was nothing weird, she was just there. Mom and Dad were still married but living apart and I was being shuttled back and forth from Atherton. Grandpa was pretty much vegetative. No one had time for me except Patty Bigelow. She’d ask me how I was doing, fix me a sandwich. Tanya and I never spoke a word. She says she noticed me but I couldn’t tell. After you came here, I looked her up on Facebook, saw how pretty she’d become. I copied down her class schedule and pretended to bump into her on campus. I know it sounds like crazed stalking, but I was curious, that’s all. I wasn’t even planning to talk to her. I’m not exactly a player. As if you haven’t guessed.”
I said, “You managed to talk to her.”
“She was eating a sandwich. By the inverted fountain—right where you found us. Right near the physics building, that seemed…providential. I brought my lunch out, we started talking, she was easy to talk to. I came right out and told her I’d looked her up. She remembered me, it didn’t freak her out, she didn’t make me feel like an utter dork. It’s as if we’ve known each other for a long, long time. As friends—I have not touched her. I don’t think she sees me that way.”
Staring at us, craving contradiction.
I said, “Now you’re worried about her.”
“How could I not be? You go talk to Lester and the next day he’s dead?”
Milo said, “Who do you think did it?”
“How would I know?”
“Make an educated guess.”
“Pete.”
“Why?”
“He hated his father.”
“He told you that?”
“He never mentioned Lester by name but he always said his old man was a useless junkie and he couldn’t stand him.”
“It just came up in conversation?”
“This was years ago, Lieutenant.”
“Try to remember.”
“If I had to guess I’d say it came up as a comparison. ‘Your dad’s cool, mine’s crap.’”
“What’d he like about your father?”
“That he was rich. That he was a ‘stud.’”
“What else did he tell you about Jordan?”
“Nothing, it wasn’t as if he was preoccupied. If he was obsessed with anyone it was his mother.”
“How much contact did he have with Jordan?”
“What’s that, a trick question? I already told you Lester wasn’t a part of my life and once I stopped going to Mary’s, I never saw Pete.”
“You had no contact with Lester because your dad couldn’t stand him.”
“No one could. Mom’s his sister and she would have nothing to do with him.”
“Your dad gave him free rent and hired Patty Bigelow to look after him.”
“So?”
“Nice treatment for someone you hate.”
“Mom probably did that to keep Lester out of her hair. Back when they were married, Dad gave her anything she wanted and she looked the other way when he fooled around. Model family, huh?”
I said, “Why was Lester killed?”
“How would I know?”
“Think it was related to Patty Bigelow?”
Silence.
Milo said, “Tell us what you know, son. Now.”
“Tanya told me what her mom said before she died. Please don’t come down on her. She needed someone to talk to and I just happened to be there.”
“What exactly did she tell you?”
“That her mom felt she’d done harm to a neighbor.”
“Felt?”
“Neither Tanya nor I believe Patty was capable of actually hurting another human being. I’m sure her being terminal had something to do with it. At the worst, she was witness to something that she didn’t report and felt guilty about.”
“Something related to Pete Whitbread?” I said.
“That’s the logical conclusion, right? He’s a sociopath, Tanya and Patty lived a few houses away. Patty probably saw something.”
“What have you told Tanya about Pete’s proclivities?”
“Nothing. I’ve never told anyone.” Sudden, harsh laughter. “Can we draw this to a close? I’ve got a ton of work.”
“Why did you flinch when I mentioned Tanya’s study groups?”
“I did?”
“Noticeably.”
He hunched, scratched his head. “Please don’t tell Tanya but I know for a fact that there are no study groups. When she claims to be hanging with other students, she’s really sitting by herself in the library. When she’s not in class, she’s in the library doing work-study. She sticks around long after shift’s over, goes into the stacks. Sometimes she’s the last one to leave. She walks to her car alone, in the dark. It scares the hell out of me but I can’t say anything because I don’t want her to know that I follow her.”
Milo said, “Ever think of detective work?”
“Don’t tell her. Please.”
I said, “All these secrets, Kyle. Sometimes it’s easier just to go straight from point A to point B.”
“Great theory, but I haven’t found it helpful in real life. I’ve been open with you, don’t betray me. I can’t risk having Tanya think I’m a weirdo.”
“Fine, for the time being,” said Milo, “as long as you continue to cooperate.”
“What else is there to cooperate on? I’ve told you everything I know.”
“What made you suspect there was no study group?”
“She never mentioned the names of any other students. I’ve never seen her with anyone on campus.”
“Just like the old days,” I said. “Playing under the trees.”
He said, “Old days, but not necessarily good old days. I was lonely as hell and she was, too, but we never got together. Now we’re friends. I’d like that to continue.”
Milo showed him pictures of Robert Fisk and Moses Grant.
Head shake. “Who are they?”
“Friends of Pete Whitbread.”
“This one looks nasty.” Pointing to Fisk.
The Internet shot of Whitbread/De Paine evoked a nod. “He’s punked himself up, but that’s him.” Pointing to the pretty faces surrounding De Paine’s narrow, bland countenance. “Looks like he does okay with women.”
“No accounting,” said Milo, rising.
“Are you confident you can keep Tanya safe?”
“We’ll do our best, son. Here’s my card, call if you think of anything else.”
“I won’t.
My brain feels leached.”
He walked us to the front doors. “What are the parameters, Lieutenant?”
“Of what?”
“The rules of engagement with Tanya. I don’t want to get in the way but I do care about her. And you can’t be everywhere all the time.”
“You’re planning to guard her?”
“At least I can be there.”
“Be there, but don’t do anything stupid and don’t impede the investigation.”
“Deal.”
We stepped out in the warm, dark silence of Hudson Avenue.
Kyle called out, “So I can still see her.”
“I just said that, son.”
“I mean socially.”
“Go do some calculations, Kyle.”
CHAPTER
33
We got back in the car, sat shadowed by the mansion’s haughty face. I watched as a second-story light went off. Miserly moon; the rest of the block had receded into mist. An easterly breeze ruffled stately trees. Hudson Avenue smelled of oranges and wet cat and ozone.
Milo said, “Young love. So much for Tanya being discreet. Did I screw up by allowing Kyle to be Mr. Protective?”
“Could you have stopped him?”
He rubbed his face. “You trust him?”
“My gut says he’s okay.”
“And if he’s telling it right, she could use a friend. Lying about having a social group. You wondered about that.”
“Would’ve been nice to be wrong,” I said.
“I can’t even imagine going it alone at that age.”
From the little he’d told me of his childhood, he’d felt alienated by age six, a big, fat Irish kid who looked and acted like his brothers but knew he was different. The few times he’d talked about his family, he could’ve been an anthropologist describing an exotic tribe.
I said, “Yeah, it’s tough.”
“But you think she’s doing okay?”
“As well as can be expected.”
He laughed. “Dr. Discreet. Anyway, be nice if we could clear all this up and watch the two of them waltz into the sunset…not that kids waltz, nowadays.” Flash of teeth. “Not that I ever waltzed…so where do we stand on Cuzzin Petey?”
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