Charlie Branson had large, dark circles under his eyes when he walked into James’ hospital room.
James took one look at him and frowned. “That bad, huh?”
Charlie leaned against the wall, shook his head, and sighed. “Well, Tommy is sticking by his recorded confession. And now the police suspect him of killing Caroline as well.”
“He didn’t kill her, though,” James said.
“I know that, and you know that,” I said, “but think about it from a cop’s perspective. Tommy conveniently showed up around the time of Caroline’s murder and had been sneaking over to her house for weeks after being told he wasn’t allowed to see Grace. To a cop, that’s motive.”
I had to hand it to the kid for being honest, if what he said was true.
James looked at Charlie. “What did he say about what happened that night?”
“He said when he got there, Grace told him Hugh had murdered Caroline, and he was trying to protect her. They chased Hugh to the top of the stairs. Tommy pushed Hugh, and he fell to his death. I believe him, but I’m not sure I have the entire story.”
“At least we can assume Tommy was kidnapped,” I said. “He didn’t tie himself to that tree.”
“There’s something else,” Charlie said, “and you’re not going to like it, but there’s little I can do to stop it from happening now that Tommy’s talked to the police.”
James shook his head. “No. They’re not talking to Grace, especially without me there. She doesn’t even know any of this has happened yet.”
“I understand how you feel,” Charlie said, “but at the very least Grace was an eyewitness. You can’t protect her from this, James. Not this time.”
“If Tommy is telling the truth, and he killed Hugh, and Grace told you and Adelaide that she lied to protect Tommy, she’ll be heartbroken about it ... but maybe it’s for the best,” I said. “This will finally get everything out in the open, and Grace can move on.”
“Wait ... what?” Charlie said. “What are you talking about?”
James clenched his jaw and glared at me, but with Tommy’s confession, the time to protect Grace had passed. The jig was most definitely up.
“Don’t be upset with me, James,” I said. “Charlie represents your family, which means he represents Grace. He needs to know what’s going on, and we need to figure out the best way to break the news to her about Tommy’s arrest before the police do.”
James looked at Charlie. “How long do we have?”
“They want to talk to Grace in the morning.” He glanced at his watch. “We agreed on ten, and they’re allowing me to drive her to the station.”
“And me,” James said. “I’ll be going too.”
“But you haven’t been released from the hospital yet,” Charlie said.
“I don’t care. As of this moment, I’m releasing myself.”
Charlie shrugged. “Okay. We’ll take her in.”
I thought about suggesting we make it a threesome, but I didn’t.
“Tell me everything Tommy told the police about the guy who took him,” James said. “I want to make sure we go into the meeting tomorrow with all of the necessary details.”
Charlie nodded. “Tommy was at the grocery store, getting a few items for his mum. He came out and saw a guy parked a bit off the road, next to that pond on Cloud Street. Tommy walked by, and the guy was digging around in his trunk. He looked at Tommy and said there was something wrong with one of his tires. Since the tire in question was on the other side of the car, Tommy didn’t go around to check and see if something was wrong with it or not. He just took the guy at his word. The guy told Tommy the spare tire was stuck and asked if he would give him a hand getting it out. As soon as Tommy poked his head into the trunk, the guy stuck a knife to Tommy’s chest and told him not to make a sound. He said if he didn’t comply, he’d push the knife into his chest, it would stop his heart, and he’d die instantly.”
“What happened next?”
“The guy told Tommy to climb into the trunk. He said if Tommy behaved and didn’t make a scene, he might not hurt him, or Tommy’s mum, who the guy mentioned by name.”
“He actually said the word might?” James asked. “I might not hurt you?”
Charlie nodded.
“What an arsehole,” James said. “Preying on Tommy’s emotions. Probably got his jollies off over it, too.”
“It worked. Scared the shit out of him. He did what he was asked.”
“Did Tommy say anything about the car?” I asked. “Inside? Outside? Color? Make? Model?”
“We know the car is black, vintage, and in perfect condition. Tommy said the car was shiny enough for him to see his reflection when he was standing outside of it, and that the trunk smelled like vanilla and honey.”
“How long did they drive for?” I asked.
“He doesn’t know. He was too freaked out. He tried counting while he was in the trunk to figure out how much time had passed, but he was so shaken up, he had to keep restarting.”
“So the guy could have taken him anywhere,” I said.
“I’m just telling you both what we know so far.”
“Was the guy wearing a disguise?” I asked.
Charlie shook his head. “Hard to believe, but the guy didn’t mask his face or anything. You would think this would be a major break in the case. But the hard thing is Tommy hasn’t been great on a lot of details.”
“What happened when they arrived where they were going?” James asked.
“Once Tommy heard the guy kill the engine on the car, he had a moment of bravery. The guy opened the trunk, and Tommy started kicking him. The guy got verbally aggressive and shut the trunk, leaving Tommy to wait it out. He returned to the car several minutes later, told Tommy to get out of the car, and they walked into the house together. He put Tommy in one of the bedrooms, locked him in, and said he’d be back.”
“Did Tommy say anything about what the house looked like? Did he recognize the area they were in?”
“The house was surrounded by rainforest on all sides. It was a single level and made of wood paneling of some kind. There was a greenhouse off to one side with a bunch of stuff growing in it, and off to the other side was a two-car garage. It was open, and another car was parked there. It was red, small, and round in shape, similar to a Toyota Prius. It looked new.”
“What did Tommy say about the inside of the house?” I asked.
“It was clean. Everything was in its place. Minimal furniture, neutral colors. A record player was playing opera music in the background. While Tommy was in the room, he heard the guy talking to someone in the kitchen, but he was too far away to hear the actual conversation.”
“Could he tell whether it was a man or a woman?”
Charlie shook his head.
“What did the guy who took him look like?” I asked.
“Tommy is sure they are the same height because he said he could look right into the guy’s eyes when he stood in front of him. He described the guy as ‘old,’ but when police asked how old, Tommy said ‘about as old as you.’ The cop he was talking to is forty-nine. We know the guy has salt-and-pepper hair and blue eyes, but Tommy didn’t notice any distinguishing features that set him apart from anyone else. He said he looked like every other guy that age.”
I shook my head. The lack of details was frustrating, but at the same time, it was better than anything we knew so far.
“What was the man wearing?” I asked.
“All black. Tommy said he looked like he was dressed to work in an office, but not as a worker—more like as a manager or someone in charge.”
“So we’re looking for a murderer who’s clean-cut and professional-looking,” I said. “His taste in music, the fish dish he made, and the Shakespeare references tell me he’s clever, and most likely has above-average intelligence, or he perceives himself as someone who is intelligent and enjoys the finer things in life. He’s efficient at using a knife, so I’d guess he either works in the medical field now or in the past or has some kind of medical training, which may even be self-taught, but I’d lean toward actual classes ... a skill set he’s picked up from somewhere.”
Charlie stared at me for a moment. “There is one other thing I need to mention.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“The kidnapper asked about you, Sloane. He wanted to know all about you.”
It didn’t come as a shock to me at all.
“What about me?”
“He was most interested in why you’re here and what you were doing at Tommy’s house.”
“And did Tommy tell him?”
“He did, which means you need to be even more careful. There’s a good chance he’ll come after you again.”
And this time, he wouldn’t be generous enough to let me go. I didn’t fit his moral sense of murder before. Now, I probably did, and he’d have come up with a justified reason to kill me—self-preservation, the most basic of human instincts, the very reason we survive.
“I expected this to happen,” I said. “Was anything else discussed between them?”
“The kidnapper’s main interest in taking Tommy was to find out what really happened the night he killed Caroline and why he had been blamed for a murder he didn’t commit.”
“Why is this guy so fixated on this?” James asked.
“If his murders are predicated on the moral high ground he’s set for himself,” I said, “he may see what he’s doing as ethical, just, and good. What happened to Hugh isn’t something he sanctioned.”
“Hugh wasn’t a great person, though,” Charlie said.
“The killer might not know that.”
“So, in the end, after Tommy gave the guy all the information he had, the killer just let him go?” James asked.
“He flipped a coin and told him one side he lived, the other he died.”
James shook his head. “The guy’s crazy. He’s absolutely crazy.”
“He stuck to his word, though,” I said.
“Tommy won the coin toss,” Charlie said. “Afterward the man gave him a sandwich, put him back in the trunk, and drove him to the city. He took him to the same spot where you two were found, waited until it was quiet, tied him up, staged the scene, and told Tommy to count to fifty. When he got to fifty, he could scream, but if he screamed too early, the man promised he’d come back and end his life for good. Tommy counted to one hundred just to be safe. He was found, and now we’re here.”