Concord, Ohio, is a quintessential middle-American town—more churches than restaurants, more pickups than cars. Steve drives through the dinky town of Concord into endless fields of sprawling wheat and corn spotted with large barns and small houses set back from the road. Ten minutes later, he turns the agent car he borrowed from the field office in Daytona onto a rutted dirt driveway that leads to a house sagging with neglect and age.
“Are you Rudy or Tommy Olsen?” Steve asks the boy-man standing in the doorway—160 pounds of farm stock with sinewy muscles tan from the biceps down that hang from well-worn overalls. Overgrown sandy hair surrounds a simple face.
“I’m Tommy.”
“Is your brother here?”
“Out back.”
He follows Tommy around the house, the side yard filled with rusted cans, overgrown weeds, and the smell of a broken sewer. Behind the house, standing beside a tractor is Tommy’s twin, except Rudy is a couple inches taller, thirty pounds heavier, and his face is not as simple or kind.
Rudy extends his hand, his grip a vise and the skin thickly callused.
“I’m here to talk to you boys about the Riley fire,” Steve says, and the quick glance between them—shame in Tommy’s and warning in Rudy’s—tells Steve all he needs to know about their guilt. Yesterday, the state fire marshal visited the site and confirmed the fire was arson. The house had been doused in kerosene and lit. The Rileys have a claim, and these boys are likely responsible.
Before Steve can continue, the back screen door opens, and a young woman shuffles forward carrying a tray of tea. Her straw hair hangs in her face, and her eyes never leave the ground. Without a word, she thrusts the offering toward Steve.
He takes a glass and so do each of the boys.
“Thank you,” he says, and she recoils like a frightened bird before shuffling away.
“That’s Elaine,” says Rudy.
“She’s our sister,” adds Tommy.
And suddenly, life makes sense. Rape victims each deal with the crime differently, but in general, the methods of coping fall into three general categories. Victims get angry and rise up hellbent on being a survivor and proving it. Or they figure out a way to work through it internally, making some sort of peace with what happened and moving on. Or the most traumatized curl into themselves and become terrified of the world.
Elaine Olsen is the latter.
Steve sets his glass on the tractor’s hood and returns his focus to the boys. “You need to confess,” he says.
“To what?” Rudy says, pulling his shoulders back.
“To burning down a man’s home with him in it and killing his cat.”
Rudy’s jaw tightens, and his eyes tick side to side, figuring out his response.
“Fortunately, nobody was hurt,” Steve goes on.
“Maybe we should get a lawyer?” Tommy looks from his brother to Steve then back again.
“Tommy, shut up,” Rudy says.
Tommy shoves his hands in the pockets of his overalls and toes the ground with his boot.
“Are your parents around?” Steve asks, taking in the dilapidated barn and rusted tractor. The brothers are in their twenties, but they’re still boys and they are in way over their heads.
Tommy shakes his head as Rudy spits, “What’s that got to do with it?”
“I’m just trying to figure out if you boys are on your own?”
Rudy swallows, his bluster faltering before returning full force. “Get the hell off our property!”
“Not without you and your brother,” Steve says calmly.
“You’re arresting us?” Tommy gulps.
“Actually, you’re turning yourselves in,” Steve says.
“To hell we are!” Rudy says.
“I’m trying to help you. Turn yourselves in, and I’ll talk to the DA about a deal. Make me arrest you and drag a team out here to investigate, and you’re on your own.”
Tommy’s shoulders have crept up his neck. Meanwhile, Rudy’s shoulders have dropped with the weight of his clenched fists, and his jaw is thrust forward aggressively.
“The easy way or the hard way,” Steve says. “Either way, you’re coming with me.”
Rudy is still beside the tractor, and Steve is certain he is considering the wrench lying inches from his hand. The screen door slams open again, and Steve turns to see Elaine looking at them from the porch.
Rudy seizes the opportunity and snatches up the wrench. He swings it wildly at Steve as he charges, and Steve sidesteps, whirls, then shoulder tackles him from behind, sending both of them crashing to the ground. Getting his arms in position, he thrusts his legs beneath him and lifts Rudy with him as he stands. Rudy cries out as the full nelson wrenches his arms and neck.
Tommy bobs and weaves, trying to join the fight, but the boy’s no fighter and is entirely uncertain how to hit Steve without hitting his brother.
“Stop squirming,” Steve says, struggling to hold Rudy as the boy inflicts immense pain on himself.
On the porch, Elaine hasn’t moved, her eyes following as Steve sidesteps with Rudy toward the side of the house. He swears at himself for not bringing zip cuffs and for not ramming Rudy with his left shoulder instead of his right, the damaged joint screaming in pain.
“Tommy, you coming?” Steve wheezes. “Or do I have to come back and tussle with you as well?”
Tommy has given up trying to attack and stares stupefied as Steve drag-carries his brother along. Steve applies pressure to the back of Rudy’s neck, and Rudy yelps. “Tell Tommy to come along,” Steve hisses. “This will go better for both of you if you voluntarily turn yourselves in.”
“This is voluntary?” Rudy grunts.
“If you both get in the car and don’t give me any more trouble, that’s what we’ll call it.”
“Screw you.”
Steve bears down again, causing another yelp. “Listen, Rudy, if you want to spend the next ten years rotting in prison, that’s fine, but just remember, you’re bringing Tommy with you. I’m throwing you a lifeline. Turn it down, and both of you are going to pay the price.”
Rudy’s struggle lessens, and he looks up from his hung head toward Tommy. “Tommy had nothing to do with it.”
“If that’s how you want to spin it, that’s fine, but you both still need to get in the car.”
“Tommy walks,” Rudy negotiates.
“It’s not up to me.”
Rudy’s eyes slide to Elaine. “He has to walk. One of us has to.”
“Get in the car, tell Tommy to do the same, and I’ll turn the radio up loud.”
“How the hell’s that going to help?”
“It’s a long drive, and my hearing isn’t what it used to be. You can get your stories straight.”
Rudy’s head bends forward, relieving some of the tension, and Steve knows this is the moment of truth, the instant he will either acquiesce or explode. Steve braces for it, then breathes when his sandy head nods.
Tommy sighs in relief and almost trots toward them.
True to his word, Steve turns the radio up and tries not to listen to the brothers’ conversation as he drives. But when they pass the Riley ruins, Tommy leans forward and says, “We didn’t know he was home,” remorse clear in his voice.
“Tommy, shut up!” Rudy snaps.
“But it’s true, Rudy. We thought he was gone.”
“Geez, Tommy, I told you, you wasn’t there. Okay? You don’t know anything about what happened.”
“He’s not the judge,” Tommy says.
“No, but he’s a cop.”
“I’m just saying, we wouldn’t have done it if we’d have known he was there.”
Steve can’t help but like the younger boy.
Rudy mutters, “The bastard wouldn’t leave.”
“He has to live somewhere,” Steve says.
“Not in our town.”
“He did his time.”
“There ain’t enough time to be done for a man who did what he did, going and destroying something just so he can get off.”
Steve nods along with the first part. He agrees rape’s about the lowest crime there is, but Rudy’s wrong about the motive. “It’s not about sex.”
“Bull. Guy can’t get a decent woman, so he takes what he can’t have.”
“It’s about anger and control,” Steve says.
He’s been at this a long time, and he knows this isn’t just a theory in psychological textbooks. Rape is raw and cruel, and there’s nothing loving or mate-driven about it.
“That don’t make sense,” Tommy says. “Why would you want to have sex with a girl you’re angry with?”
Steve almost smiles, then thinks of Mr. Riley and the awful thing he did when he was twenty-two and the joy turns sour. The girl he raped had humiliated him earlier that day by mocking him when he asked her out. He took a nasty trip on LSD, tracked her down, and did the unthinkable. His testimony made it clear he was out of his mind at the time, so much so he couldn’t recall most of what happened.
Steve pulls up to the Lake County Sheriff’s Office. He opens the back door, and Tommy pops out. Before Rudy can do the same, Steve slides into the back seat beside him.
“Tell the truth,” he says. “It will go better for you.”
“Tommy had nothing to do with it,” Rudy says, shaking his head obstinately.
“Rudy, Tommy’s not going to weather this well. They’ll break him, or he’ll break himself. I’ll put in a good word but don’t try and lie your way out of this. You already have one damaged sibling; you don’t need another.”
The boy’s eyes well, belying his bluster. “But Elaine—”
“Elaine needs help, more help than you or Tommy can give her. I’ll talk to social services—”
His face hardens. “We take care of our own.”
“Rudy—”
“You said you wouldn’t tell what you heard. Is your word good?”
“Rudy—”
“Is your word good?”
Steve nods.
“Then let me out.”
With a sigh, Steve steps from the car then leads the boys into the station. Tommy isn’t much older than Danny was when he was locked up, and he won’t fare any better. Elaine was raped. The Rileys’ house was burned. Tommy and Rudy Olsen will go to prison. All of it a waste.
On his way to the airport, Steve calls social services and requests they make a house call to Elaine Olsen. He also calls Internal Affairs. The Concord police captain and fire captain have some explaining to do.