31

 

Jack directed them to a small grocery store on the south end of Winfield. Jane remembered seeing a bigger store in the center of town, perhaps one that would have more choices. Then again, if she followed Jack’s menu, she didn’t need much.

“I’ll get the ice cream,” said Jack, racing off as soon as they entered the store.

“You learn anything new?” asked Cordelia, pushing a shopping cart toward the meat department.

Jane had mainly learned that Andrew had been right—Jack was unusually stubborn. Most people, when caught in a lie, admitted it. “Not much,” said Jane. She wondered which aisle held the Manwich, Jack’s favorite. “Get at least four pounds of ground beef,” she called.

“Will do. Meet you at the front, okay?”

Jane was about to head into the bowels of the store when she caught sight of Jack rushing toward the entrance. Skirting several shopping carts, she raced after him, all the while wondering where the hell he was headed.

Once outside, she saw him running toward an alley. He was young and quick, though her strides were longer. She trailed him at a distance, ducking behind a garage when he looked around to see if he was being followed. She silently counted to five, then moved into the open again and saw him turn into a backyard. She quickened her step, continuing to follow him through two more yards until he approached a run-down house with a red-and-white FORECLOSURE sign prominently displayed in the front yard. The storm winds had come through this block with a vengeance. Jane counted four downed trees and one house where a large section of shingles had blown off. Some of the debris had been cleaned away, but not all. She stood behind a lilac bush and watched Jack open a window on the first floor and hoist himself through.

Sprinting across the street, she noted the name and the number of the house. All the windows had been covered with newspaper. Standing under the open window, she noticed now that the newspaper had been taped to the glass with colored tape. Red. Green. Blue. Yellow. Was this the tape Truman had seen in the bag Gabriel was carrying in town last week? As far as Jane was concerned, this was the smoking gun. The abduction story was a lie. It had all been all a lie. As she crawled in through the open window, questions swept over her. Did the boys send the ransom note?

As she dropped down into the room, her eyes lingered on the scraps of newspaper and tape scattered on a threadbare rug. She paused under the living room arch, listening to the sound of footsteps, the creek of a door opening, then more footsteps. She followed the sounds until she came to a stairway that led to the basement. Behind her, it looked as if someone had kicked in the back door. It stood open, allowing her a clear view of the garage.

She listened a moment more before starting down. When she reached the bottom, she found Jack sitting cross-legged on a blanket spread over a deeply pockmarked concrete floor. Next to him was an empty fifth of Popov vodka.

Moving closer, she glimpsed something terrible in the dead stillness of his eyes. “Jack?” Though she’d said his name softly, her voice was like a roar inside her head.

He didn’t move.

“Where’s Gabriel?”

No response.

“Jack? Answer me.”

“Gone.”

“Gone where?”

He shook his head, staring at a spot on the floor a few feet to the right of where he was sitting. “I don’t know.”

“You expected him to be here?”

He nodded.

She stood over him. “It’s time to stop this. There was no abduction. You and Gabriel came here on your own. Tell me the truth,” she all but shouted. “Tell me!”

“I can’t!” he shouted back, breaking into sobs, rocking back and forth.

Her immediate instinct was to crouch down and put her arms around him, try to comfort him, and yet she couldn’t. “Where would he go?” she demanded.

He shook his head, raked a hand through his hair.

“You must have some idea.”

“Maybe he hitchhiked.”

“Where?”

“Away from Winfield. Anywhere but here.”

“Or maybe he went home,” she said.

“No. He wouldn’t do that. Ever.”

Jane made a quick call to Cordelia, explaining what had happened and giving her the address. “Call the family,” she said. “I’ll stay here with Jack until you get here.”

Still holding the cell phone in her hand, she crouched down. No matter what he’d done, seeing him there, so upset, so vulnerable, her heart nearly broke. “It’s going to be okay.”

“No. It’s not,” he said, wiping a hand over his eyes.

“Did you and Gabriel drink that vodka?”

“Yeah. It was awful.”

“You got sick?”

“What do you think?”

Empty bags of Fritos and smashed cans of Mountain Dew and root beer littered the floor. “Was that your only food?”

“The people who used to live here left some stuff. Soup. Canned fruit and vegetables. We thought we could live here for weeks. Maybe months. I guess we didn’t realize how much we eat.”

“And the vodka?”

“Gabriel found it in back of the furnace. We thought we’d hit the jackpot. That we’d have a great time.”

“Why did you leave?” asked Jane. Since the shock of finding Gabriel gone had opened him up, now was the time to strike. She needed the truth.

“Because.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I had to. I couldn’t stay here any longer.”

“Why?”

He looked down. Shook his head. And then he stopped talking.

*   *   *

Suzanne and Branch were the first to arrive. Jack was still refusing to talk. Suzanne cradled him in her arms while Jane filled them in what she’d learned, and Branch looked around the basement.

“What’s this?” asked Branch, bending down, touching the floor by the stairs.

Jane stepped over. “Looks like blood.”

“Blood?” repeated Suzanne, her head snapping up.

“Feel it,” said Branch. “It’s sticky.”

Suzanne scrambled to her feet. She bent over to look, then nailed Jack with her eyes. “Talk to me,” she all but screamed. “Why is there blood on the floor?”

“I … I don’t know,” he said, his eyes growing big and desperate. “If I knew, I’d tell you.”

“We need to call the police,” said Jane.

Branch took out his cell phone and made the call.

Continuing to scan the room, Jane found a pocketknife with more blood on it. Holding it in front of Jack’s face, she asked, “Who does this belong to?”

“Gabriel.”

“Why would there be blood on it?”

“How should I know?”

“They’ll be here soon,” said Branch, returning his cell to his pocket.

Jack crawled over to a dark corner of the room, covered his face with his hands.

A few minutes later, Andrew flew down the stairs, followed by Eric.

In the distance, the wail of a siren drew everyone’s attention. It didn’t take long for it to reach the house. Boots hit the stairs as two men shuffled down.

With his fathers on either side of him, Jack stood, wetting his lips, a kid preparing himself for the gallows.

Cordelia, out of breath and panting, appeared at the top of the steps and trotted halfway down before stopping. “What did I miss?” she asked conversationally. Searching the faces of those standing around the basement, she squeezed out a guilty smile and said, “Oh. Sorry. My bad.” She gave a little wave. “Don’t mind me. Just continue on as if I weren’t here.”

*   *   *

Lucas Xavier, the narrow-faced chief of police, led Andrew and Eric into a conference room at the rear of the police station. Suzanne and Branch asked to be allowed in, but the chief said no. At the last minute, Andrew said he wanted Jane with them. If the chief didn’t allow it, they could all wait until a lawyer was located.

Looking disgruntled, Xavier nodded his assent. He took the chair at the head of the table. Andrew and Eric sat on either side of Jack, with Jane across from them.

“Just tell the truth, Jack,” said Eric, giving his son’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

As Xavier fiddled with a voice recorder, Andrew asked if the basement of the foreclosed house was considered a crime scene.

“Yes, sir, it is,” said Xavier.

“I didn’t hurt Gabriel,” Jack began even before a question was asked. “I never would. He’s my best friend.”

Xavier pushed a button on the recorder, then opened his notebook, stated the date, the time, and who was in the room. “No one said you did, son.” Adopting a fatherly tone, he said, “I just need you to answer a few questions. I think the best place to start is the beginning. Tell me why you and your cousin ran away.”

Jack shifted in his chair. “We … were pissed at our parents.”

“Because?”

“My dads have been fighting a lot. Makes me feel crazy when they do that. And then Papa left a few weeks ago. It’s like they don’t care what I think.”

“That’s not true,” said Andrew.

“So you were mad at your dads and you wanted to hurt them,” interjected Xavier before Jack could respond to his father’s denial. “You wanted them to worry about you, where you’d gone.”

“I guess.”

“How long were you planning to be gone?”

“We didn’t talk about that.”

“Okay,” said Xavier. “What about Gabriel? Why did he want to run away?”

“He … wasn’t happy.”

“About what?”

Jack shrugged. “His mom was gone all the time. He really hated that. When we found the house, we both had the same idea. We could live there. Nobody would know. We’d put newspaper on the windows so people couldn’t see in. There was this closet under the basement stairs. It locked from the inside. If anyone came, we figured we’d go in there and hide. But we never needed to.”

“Why did you leave and Gabriel stayed?” asked Eric.

“Please, Mr. Lindstrom,” said Xavier firmly. “Let me ask the questions. Go ahead and answer that.” He motioned for Jack to continue.

Making direct eye contact for the first time, Jack said, “I don’t know about Gabriel, but I got sick of hiding. The basement smelled bad. We didn’t have enough to eat. We found a bottle of vodka and drank it. We both threw up in one of the upstairs bathrooms. That stunk even worse. We were always afraid someone would come in the house and find us. I missed being home. I kinda thought that Gabriel might go home after I left, but when he didn’t, I figured I should check up on him, which is why I left the grocery store. I didn’t know she was following me.” He eyed Jane sullenly.

“I’m glad she did,” said Andrew.

“So you have no idea when Gabriel left that house or why,” said Xavier.

“No. And I don’t know anything about the blood. It wasn’t there before. I swear.”

Reading through the notes he’d taken while talking to the family outside the foreclosed home, Xavier asked, “Why did you lie and tell everyone you’d been abducted?”

“I—” Jack crossed his arms over his chest. “See … when Dad found me under the front porch—after the storm—the first thing he asked me was how I got home. If they’d let me go. I didn’t know what he was talking about. I was scared to death that he and Papa were going to be furious at me for taking off again after promising I wouldn’t. Then he started asking me all these questions, like if I’d seen the kidnapper’s face. Did I know him? Would I recognize him if I saw him again? He wanted to know if they’d let Gabriel go, too. I mean, I couldn’t tell him the truth. I didn’t want to rat out Gabriel, especially if he was planning to stay there a while longer. That’s when he said that the family had paid a ransom to get us back.” Jack’s eyes grew large and round. “I didn’t know anything about a ransom. There was no kidnapper, so who would have asked for the money? I still don’t get that. All I know is, Gabriel and me left the tent about three in the morning. We walked into town. We climbed through an unlocked window and we stayed there. That’s it. So help me God. That’s all I know.”

The room was silent as everyone digested his words.

“Can I ask something?” said Andrew.

Xavier gave a grudging nod.

“Gabriel never said anything to you about where he might go if he didn’t come back?”

“Nothing,” said Jack, picking at a scratch in the table. “I guess I just assumed we’d both go home. Eventually. And live with the consequences.”

Jane found his manner troubling, and at the same time, telling. When he’d been answering Xavier’s last questions, he’d looked everyone in the eye. Now, answering Andrew’s, he was back to staring at the table. He’d been telling the truth, then stopped. Why?

“Okay,” said Xavier, tossing down his pen. “That’s all for now. Thank you, Jack, for being so forthcoming.”

“What about Gabriel?” asked Eric.

“You have my promise. I’ll put every person I have on it. We’ll do our damnedest to find him.”

Without Jack’s help, Jane wasn’t sure their efforts would be enough. Gabriel had to be found, and fast. As hard as Jack had insisted he’d given up everything he knew, the fact was, he hadn’t. He remained the only key that would unlock the door.

And he wasn’t talking.