by Dana Mentink
The board was relatively empty now, as she and Mick had been in the process of redoing it when life intervened. Now there was a rectangle of paper, torn from a notepad. Cooper unpinned it and smoothed the crumpled scrap.
“There’s a phone number and a message. It says, ‘Call’ and then...” His face went white, eyes wide.
“What?”
He cleared his throat. “‘I know the truth about A.W.’”
SIXTEEN
Cooper did the dialing while Ruby looked on with her bottom lip between her teeth.
The message came up immediately. “The phone mailbox isn’t set up. We’ll have to text.” He raised a questioning eyebrow.
“Ask her who she is and how we can meet,” Ruby whispered.
Though he did not think it wise to arrange a meeting with the woman, it would not hurt to have something concrete to offer the police, if the number really did in fact belong to the woman with the braid from the tour. He sent the text.
The minutes ticked by as they waited for a return text. Nothing.
“Do you think it was a prank?”
He huffed. “Some prank. I’m calling Pickford and filling him in.” The sheriff’s department informed him that Pickford was unavailable and offered to send him to voice mail. He left a message and just as he was about to click the phone off, a text came in.
“It’s from Peter,” Cooper said, stomach tightening. “So that’s why Pickford couldn’t take our call.”
Ruby pressed his hand. “What is it, Cooper?”
Cooper found it hard to push out the words. “He drove himself to the police station. He says he has something important to say to the sheriff and we need to hear it, too.”
Ruby pressed her lips together, face gone pale. “We can’t jump to conclusions.”
Cold settled deep in his bones. Ruby gripped his hand.
In a fog, he drove directly to the sheriff’s office. Ruby did not try to make conversation, and he was grateful. He could not imagine what his brother was telling Pickford, but whatever it was couldn’t be good. Through clenched teeth he whispered prayers for Peter’s protection.
“Cooper,” Ruby said as he pulled into the first parking place he saw.
He stopped, fingers on the door handle. Her eyes were wide and warm, filled with a measure of compassion he had not seen often in his lifetime.
“I just wanted to say, no matter what we’re going to hear, you’re a good brother and a good man. I was thinking about what you said, that bad things happen and we don’t get to know why, but God is there through it all.” She paused. “I don’t know if I can fully believe that right now, but you’ve stood by your brother all these years while he disappointed you over and over. I was thinking that maybe God put you in Peter’s life...” She paused for a moment. “And it dawned on me back there with the kestrels, that maybe He put you in mine, too. All these years, I’ve been so focused on Him taking people away, I never thought about it the other way.”
It felt like the first rays of dawn, a splinter of light in the darkness. He took her hand and laid his cheek on her palm. The warm, soft comfort of her skin against his. “Thank you.”
She pressed a kiss to his head. “You said we’d face the truth together.”
He looked at her and bent to capture her lips with his. His thoughts whirled away, leaving only the soft satin comfort of her mouth on his. Together. He would not walk into that police station alone for what might be the worst moment of his life. For that small but precious comfort, he thanked God.
Pulling away, breathless and cheeks pink, she stroked his face. “Are you ready?”
He straightened. “No, but I’m going anyway.”
They made their way to the outer office where Heather and Hank rose in unison from their chairs.
“Peter asked me to drive him,” Heather said. Her face was tight with strain. Hank put a protective hand on her shoulder. “I tried to talk him out of coming because he’d been drinking.”
No. Not that. “With you? Did you toss back a couple to get him to talk for your story?” Cooper snapped.
“No.” Hank’s eyes were flat with anger. “Heather loves that poor sap, for some reason, as much as I hate the idea.”
Cooper blew out a breath. “Sorry. That was uncalled for.”
Heather sighed. “It’s okay. I know you’re worried, too. Do you have any idea what he’s insisting on talking about with the police?”
“I wish I did.” Again a sweep of dread rippled through him as he and Ruby were shown to a room that Cooper imagined served for both conferences and interrogations alike. Drab olive carpet, plain metal table, four chairs. A plastic pitcher of water and a stack of paper cups, the lingering odor of cigarettes and air freshener.
Pickford came in first and slapped a clipboard down on the table.
“Let me just say I don’t want you here, but your brother called a half hour ago and he said he needed to see me immediately. He refuses to talk unless you two are present.”
Cooper tried to keep his voice calm and level. “Where is he?”
“They’re bringing him in now.” Pickford cleared his throat.
Cooper groaned. Ruby gripped his forearm, but he hardly felt it. Then the door opened and his brother came in under the supporting arm of a police officer. He was not falling-down drunk, but Cooper could smell the beer on him.
Peter shot a bleary glance at his brother and looked away. “I’m here.” He collapsed into a chair. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Fine.” Pickford clasped his hands together. “You called this meeting and I’ve got plenty of other things to do, so I’m all in favor of brevity. Do you mind if I tape record this statement?”
“I don’t think...” Cooper started, but Peter shot out a hand.
“It’s too late now, Coop. You can’t help me anymore. I’ve got to clear the air. I heard from Heather that you found Lester’s body. I can’t keep secrets anymore about what happened.”
He felt cold despair begin to rise. What was he about to hear? Could he have been so wrong, all these years, about his own brother? No, he told himself fiercely, he wasn’t.
“What do you need to tell me, son?” Pickford said, pencil in hand.
Peter sucked in a deep breath. “I have a drinking problem.”
“That’s not news,” Pickford said.
Peter went on as if Pickford hadn’t spoken. “I’ve been drinking since I was thirteen. I’ve done some bonehead things and ruined my reputation. What happened with Alice only made everyone distrust me all the more.”
Pickford leaned forward. “Cut to the chase. You didn’t come here today to tell me about your drinking.” His eyes were hungry and Cooper realized at that moment that Pickford carried the guilt not just for failing Alice Walker, but the town who looked to him to set things right. “What did happen with Alice, Peter? Tell me.”
Peter ran a finger along a scratch on the tabletop. “I was in the woods that day. Ruby did see me, she was telling the truth. I only watched them play for a little while and then I left. Had some beers hidden and I played hooky from work. That’s all I’m guilty of. Underage drinking and lying to my boss at the lumber mill about being sick when I should have been at work.”
“What about Alice?”
“I didn’t touch her, and I didn’t see who did.”
Cooper’s emotions zinged between relief that Peter was innocent, as he’d always believed, and frustration at another dead end, another slammed door that would keep Alice in darkness forever.
“Why lie about it and say you weren’t in the woods that day?” Pickford pressed.
“Teen boy, drinking and playing hooky from work.” Peter flashed a wan smile. “Easy. I didn’t want to get into trouble. I’d told boss man I was sick. Didn’t want to g
et fired if I was caught in a fib.”
“So that’s it? That’s why you wanted to talk to me? You’re wasting my time.” Pickford got up. “Go back to your dishwashing duties.”
Peter almost shouted. “No. I have to tell you the rest. I can’t stand it anymore.”
“All right.” Pickford sank back down on the chair. “I’m listening. What’s the rest?”
“My reputation, it’s why I didn’t tell you everything. I knew no one would believe me. They’d think I did it or I was trying to frame someone else. Who would believe Peter Stokes was telling the truth? I panicked.”
Cooper caught his brother’s eye. “Peter, just say it. What did you do?”
Meager light picked up the sagging planes and hard lines in Peter’s face. He had once been a handsome, fun-loving youth, but now he was a man trashed by years and alcohol, a dull hopelessness in his eyes. “You’ve always been the guy who believed I had good in me.”
The look on Peter’s face cut at Cooper’s insides. “You did and you still do. I know you did not hurt Alice.”
“No one else will believe that. Never, no matter what I say or do.” His mouth trembled. “I don’t deserve your trust.”
“You’ve got it anyway. I love you, and I’ll stand by you, like I always have.”
Peter gave an anguished cry. “You’re going to change your mind when you hear it.”
“Hear what?” Pickford smacked the table with his fist. “Quit beating around the bush and say it.”
“I can’t...”
“Say it, boy,” Pickford thundered. “For once in your life, stand up and be a man.”
“All right,” Peter shouted. The room crackled with tension as Peter got to his feet, took something from his pocket and flung it on the scarred tabletop. It was an old tan leather wallet, stained with something dark.
Cooper stared. “What is that?”
“It’s a wallet I took twenty years ago,” Peter said, eyes burning, “off Lester Walker’s body.”
* * *
Ruby felt her fingers grow ice-cold. Off Lester Walker’s body. That explained why Peter had been sure it wasn’t Lester who’d attacked them at the cabin. He’d known all along that Lester was lying dead in a cave. And he could only have known that if... Her mind would not accept the horror as she watched confusion and fear unroll across Cooper’s face. Peter, his brother, the person he’d defended at all costs. She wanted to erase the past thirty seconds, to sponge away the hurt. Don’t let this be happening, her heart screamed. Don’t let Peter be a killer.
Cooper started to say something to Peter, but Pickford stopped him.
“Why did you kill Lester, son?” he said, quietly. “Why would you do something like that?”
“I didn’t,” Peter whispered. “I didn’t kill him.”
“You knew about his body. Who would know that but his killer?”
“I don’t know, but it’s exactly why I didn’t say anything all those years ago. I knew no one would believe me, not one single soul in this whole town.”
Pickford held up his palms. “Easy. Simmer down. Tell me what happened, one thing at a time.”
Peter sat and took a shaky breath. “I was out hiking the cliffs.”
“When?”
“On Wednesday, a week after Alice disappeared. I thought maybe... I had this dumb fantasy that I would be the one to find her and I’d be the hero. Everyone would be falling all over themselves apologizing for suspecting me.” He shook his head. “Stupid kid that I was.”
“And?”
“I was hiking like I said, and I came across that cave. In it, I found Lester’s body and the wallet.”
Pickford leaned forward. “Are you telling me Lester was dead when you found him? You expect me to believe that?”
“It’s the truth and I know you don’t buy it, which is why I didn’t come to you, why I’ve never said anything.”
“Well you didn’t help your credibility by delaying twenty years. So why exactly should I believe you now?”
Peter looked at the table.
“And you just happened to have this attack of conscience today? It has nothing to do with the fact that your brother found the body and now perhaps there’s going to be some DNA proof there that you killed him?”
“I didn’t. I was in the cave, but I didn’t kill him. He was already dead when I got there.”
“But you’re a proven liar and why should I believe a liar?”
Peter began to rock slowly forward and backward. “I took the wallet because I needed the money. There wasn’t much in it, only thirty bucks or so. After I took it, I knew my fingerprints would be on it and I panicked. I hid it away.”
“Instead of tossing it? Why? Did you want to keep a memento of your crime? What a tough guy, to steal the wallet of a dead man.” Pickford’s eyes flashed. “You disgust me. I knew you were scum. All these years, I knew it.”
Cooper shot to his feet. “That’s enough. My brother needs a lawyer. Now.”
“Listen,” Peter cried. “You’ve got to listen. I kept the wallet in case I needed it, in case I was ever accused of killing Lester, just like seems to be happening now.”
“No one is accusing you,” Cooper started.
“Wrong.” Pickford stood again. “I’m doing more than accusing. I’m arresting you for the murder of Lester Walker.”
Ruby gasped, unable to believe what was unfolding in front of her.
“No,” Cooper shouted.
Peter groaned. “I knew this would happen. That’s why I kept the wallet. That’s why I hung on to it all these years.”
Pickford reached for his handcuffs. “You have the right to remain silent.”
“No, wait,” Peter cried.
“He needs a lawyer.” Cooper took his brother’s arm. “Stop talking.”
“Step aside, Cooper, or I’ll arrest you for obstruction.” He snapped a cuff on Peter’s wrist. “Anything you say can and will be used against you...”
“But I didn’t kill him.” Peter was screaming now.
Ruby looked on in horror. All she could think of was how Cooper’s heart must be tearing in half that very moment.
“Funny how they all say that.” Pickford snapped on the other cuff and hauled Peter toward the door.
“He doesn’t know what he’s saying,” Cooper said. “He’s drunk.”
“We used a Breathalyzer, and he’s not legally drunk so that’s not going to save him.” He turned back to Peter. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law,” Pickford finished. “I’m sorry, Cooper, but I’ve got probable cause and your brother is under arrest for the murder of Lester Walker. I’m certain I’m going to find enough proof in that cave to pin him for Alice, too. It’s all going to come out now. You can’t stop it.”
Cooper started as if he’d gotten an electric shock. Ruby held out a hand to him, but stopped short. How could she comfort him now?
Peter wailed, “If you’d just listen, I’m telling you I didn’t kill him. Look at the wallet. Just look at it.”
Cooper reached for it, but Pickford stopped him. “Don’t touch that. It’s evidence.”
Ruby peered closer at the wallet, which was stained, she suspected, with blood. It looked familiar. The pulse pounded in her temples.
Pickford called for another officer who held on to the wriggling Peter. He pulled on a pair of rubber gloves and gingerly opened the wallet. His eyes widened, shock loosening the angry lines on his face as he peered at the contents. He looked from Cooper to Peter, before his gaze settled back on Ruby.
“You see?” Peter said. “It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. The wallet I found there with the body wasn’t Lester’s.”
“What?” Cooper said. “Then whose is it?”
“It’s Mick Hudson’s.”
SEVENTEEN
A hush fell upon the room as Ruby forced the words into her reeling brain. It could not be Mick’s wallet there, soaked in blood, yet it was, she knew it because Mick had made the thing himself, when his high school teacher introduced them to leatherworking. Mick had toiled over that wallet for so long he said he’d never part with it.
But he had. She hadn’t noticed when her brother began carrying another wallet. She swallowed hard. “He must have dropped it somewhere, and Lester picked it up.”
Cooper rubbed his eyes. “Probably the night he got into a fight with Lester about the eagle feathers. Lester picked it up. Doesn’t prove Mick killed him.”
Pickford scanned back and forth in deep thought. “Lots of unknowns here. If Peter is telling the truth about where he found the wallet...”
Peter started to answer, but Pickford cut him off. “And if the blood on this wallet is Lester’s, how did the wallet get there?”
“Mick didn’t...”
“Thing is,” Pickford said, staring at Ruby, “all these years we’ve not been able to find Alice, and now we’re closer than we’ve ever been.”
Ruby realized she was holding her breath as the sheriff slid the wallet into a plastic bag.
“Once again, it’s coming down to the same two suspects we had twenty years ago. Peter Stokes—” he fixed a hard steel look at Ruby “—and Mick Hudson. Only now, we’ve got a crime scene to help us dig out the truth.” He spoke over Ruby’s shoulder to his officer.
“Put him in a holding cell and bring Mick and Perry Hudson in for questioning.”
“You can’t believe...” Ruby started.
“That your brother is guilty?” Pickford nodded. “That’s the thing about this job. I’ve learned that even the best families can hide the nastiest secrets.”
The gleam of satisfaction in his eyes sickened her. “Is this about my brother, or getting back at my father for finding the truth about Molly and not telling you?”
