Bet called the medical examiner at home for the first time. She waited twenty agonizing minutes while Carolyn drove over to her office.
She confirmed what Bet had guessed. Emma’s blood type was B positive.
It could take weeks for DNA testing to be done on Emma Hunter and the blood on Eric’s flashlight, but Bet already knew what the results would say.
Bet waited out front for Clayton to appear. He pulled up in his Trooper dressed in black and wearing his bulletproof vest under a windbreaker with SHERIFF’S DEPARTMENT stenciled across the back.
“What’s going on, Sheriff?”
“I think Eric played me.” Bet went on to explain the flashlight, with Eric’s fingerprint and someone else’s blood. “I’m not sure that was Michael down in the cave at all. I think that was Eric. Something he said wasn’t right; it came to me later on.”
“What was that?”
“He spoke about how the war changed him, how it made him abandon his son. Singular, not my sons.”
“Eric pretended to be his father so it would take the suspicion off him, then pretended to die in the cave so you’d close the investigation. Except he blew it with that slip.”
“Exactly,” Bet said. “In Eric’s mind, he was the one Michael abandoned; Dylan didn’t matter.”
“So what’s the plan?”
“I want to talk to Eric, but I’d like you nearby. Just in case.”
Bet and Clayton arrived on Eric’s street to find the house dark except for a single light on in the back. Eric’s writing room. She pulled up behind Eric’s car in the driveway and doused the lights of her SUV.
She waited while Clayton moved over into the shadows on the side of the house before she crossed up to the front porch and knocked on the door.
Lights came on throughout the house, and Bet felt the sensation of someone looking through the peephole.
“It’s me, Eric,” Bet said. “Can you open the door?”
“Just a minute.”
She heard him fumble with the lock. He opened the door, dressed in sweats and a T-shirt. Barefoot, he looked like the teenage boy Bet remembered.
“Come on in, Bet.”
“No. Let’s chat out here.”
Eric gave her a quizzical look, but he stepped out onto the porch and gestured at the two rocking chairs.
Bet chose to stand, leaning against the porch rail instead of sitting in a chair she might not get out of fast enough.
“When were you really down in that cave?” Bet asked after Eric settled in.
“I told you, Monday.”
“You’ve told me a lot of things in my life, Eric. How many of them were lies?”
Eric’s body stilled, and Bet tensed. She could see his eyes glowing silver in the scant light thrown by the moon. Bet could also see the wheels turning in his head.
He’s looking for a place to run.
“I’m not lying to you, Bet. Why would you think that?”
“History.”
“I can see you’re riled up about something. Why don’t you wait here while I go get us a couple beers and we can talk this through?”
“I’d rather you didn’t go anywhere, Eric.”
He stood up. “I’m just going to get a beer,” he said, untangling himself from the rocking chair. He moved to the front door.
“I think you should stay right where you are, Eric.”
Reaching the front door, Eric bolted, Bet hot on his trail. The two ran through the house, Eric pulling books and a chair into Bet’s path. She managed to jump over the books, but the chair slowed her down enough that Eric hit the back door ahead of her.
“Eric, stop!”
He yanked open the door and launched himself across the back porch. She heard a cry and rushed out to find Clayton holding Eric against the side of the house, arm pinned behind his back.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t have backup, Eric? And where the hell did you think you were going to run?”
Bet pulled her handcuffs out and placed Eric under arrest for the murder of Emma Hunter and the attempted murder of Seeley Lander, Dale, and her. After reading him his rights, Bet and Clayton maneuvered him to the SUV and locked him into the back seat for their ride back to the station.
Eric kept his mouth shut on the quick trip back, and he didn’t try to struggle as Bet and Clayton escorted him into the vintage cell. Pulling the giant skeleton key off the wall, Bet unlocked the barred door, and Eric meekly went inside and sat down on the cot.
With Eric secured, Bet walked out the front door with Clayton.
“Now you can finally get some time at home with Kathy. You have tomorrow off.”
“Thanks, Sheriff. But I’ll see you the day after.” Clayton would be full-time for now. Bet hoped he would stay on even after he became a father.
Bet went back into the station to find Eric looking miserable. He didn’t even glance up.
“Need anything?” Bet asked him.
“What happens now?”
“Tomorrow I drive you down to Ellensburg and you’ll be transferred to the jail there.”
Eric nodded, his eyes bleak.
“What happened down in that cave, Eric?”
“Anything I say will be used against me, right?”
“Probably,” Bet said. “But I think you want to tell me. Start with your dad. You knew he’d been here over the years, didn’t you? That wasn’t true, was it, about not seeing him?” Bet hoped she could trip Eric up in a web of lies.
She could see his desperation as he looked for a story that would help him out.
“You’re right, Bet. I did know my father was around. He’s been sneaking in and out of town for years. He knew the house was empty, knew Dylan would only be up on a weekend or a holiday. Any other time he could come and go as he pleased. He used Dylan’s old dirt bike. It’s easy to get through the woods to the back of our place without being seen, and Mrs. Villiard wouldn’t hear it if a cannon went off in the middle of the night. None of the other neighbors are close.”
Bet stood silent, waiting to hear the rest.
“I was so surprised to see him,” Eric continued. “I asked where he’d been all these years and he told me he came around, he just didn’t know how to be with people anymore. I promised I wouldn’t say anything. I wanted to know him again. I didn’t know he’d done anything wrong.”
Eric began to pace the floor of his cell. He started up again, back turned to Bet.
“That night, I heard him slip out. I grabbed a flashlight and followed him. He went into the cave. I could hear him cursing. After it fell quiet, I went up to the entrance and saw the gate sawn through. It must have been those kids. They must have done that to get inside. I followed after him, into the tunnel.”
He turned back around to face her.
“What did you see, Eric?”
“We went all the way down into that giant cavern. There were two young people there. Dad yelling at them, asking what they were doing in his cave. Then everything happened so fast. It was dark. I thought I could help, so I came into the light.”
“What did your father do?” Bet asked, when Eric stopped telling his story.
“I saw Dad point a gun at the boy. I reached out and grabbed at his arm; the bullet just grazed the kid, I thought. Then Dad raised his gun again. The girl looked so scared.” Eric’s voice trailed off again.
Bet decided to take a chance at rattling Eric’s cage.
“That’s not what Seeley told us.”
Eric’s face went white. “I thought he didn’t remember anything that happened.”
“Memory is a funny thing,” Bet said, thinking over what the doctor had said about Seeley. “Seeley’s memory is coming back. One thing he remembers is there was only one man in the cave with them. One man who shot at him, and his description matches you, not your father. If you tell me the truth, I can help you.”
“I am telling you the truth. It was my father.”
“We recovered evidence from the cave to prove it was you,” Bet said.
“The cave was blown up by dynamite. There’s no way you have anything on me.”
“I never told you it was dynamite. I just said there was a cave-in.”
Eric stopped. “I just assumed it was dynamite … isn’t that what people use? To blow up a cave?”
“You’re backtracking, Eric, but we both know you aren’t telling the truth. You set off that dynamite, after trying to make me believe it was your father shooting at me. You’re covering your tracks. You tried to kill me.”
“No! Never.” He sounded adamant. “I thought I’d scare you enough to get you out of the cave before I blew it up. I thought you might let Michael go to save your own life. I never thought you’d go into the water.”
Bet watched Eric’s face as he realized what he’d admitted to. He couldn’t very well deny his involvement in the shootings now.
“Why kill Emma, Eric?”
At first she thought he would spin a new story, trying to maintain his father was to blame. But he shifted to a new tack.
“I never meant to. It was an accident. I was down there. It was dark. It happened so fast. I was in danger. Seeley was armed. With an old gun. It was self-defense.”
“That’s how you hurt your arm?”
Eric said nothing, proof enough for Bet she’d guessed right.
“How did you know about the cave to begin with?” Bet asked to keep him talking.
“My father knew about that cave. That part’s true. He showed it to me, years ago, when I was a kid. Dylan was still too young. I promised never to tell anyone it was there. He stole little things for years, from the community, and hid them in the cave.”
“Why?”
“I think it started as a joke. He always loved the rumor the items were stolen by the ghosts, but then it became a habit. Dad … combat did things to my father they never did to yours. He couldn’t be a part of anything. I think this was his way to try to keep his community close. He always knew he could visit his things.”
Like the rainbow trout in the pool.
“Why keep doing it, Eric? Did you think someday he’d come back and see you were waiting for him?”
Eric looked away from her then, as if she’d hit him with her words.
“You thought one day he’d come back and see you’d been the good son.”
Eric looked like he might cry. “I really did want to investigate the lake. That’s how it all started. Then it seemed like a way out, to blame my father. I knew I could throw suspicion on him.”
“Do you know where your father is?”
Eric shook his head. “I have no idea.”
“I thought he was with Lillian Collier,” Bet said. “Isn’t that why he finally left town for good?”
“Right,” Eric said. “I …” Eric’s eyes darted around the cell as if the plain walls and metal bars could give him answers. Bet replayed the night Lillian was dumped into the lake. It had been a terrible time in her life. Bet and her father had gotten through their first Christmas without her mother. They had spent it with the Chandlers. Michael was still coming and going to visit his sons, though his visits were more and more sporadic. Further and further apart.
“Why did your father stop coming home?”
“He would never break off his relationship with Lillian,” Eric said, but he still wasn’t meeting her eyes. “Mother finally had enough, I guess. Told him not to come back.”
“That’s not true, Eric. Lillian died seventeen years ago.”
“How could you possibly know about that?” Eric’s face showed first shock, then dismay as he realized what he’d said.
“What did you do?” Bet asked.
Eric dropped onto his cot and buried his head in his hands. “Oh, God, Bet. I’ve carried this thing around with me for so long.”
Bet held her breath, waiting to see what Eric would say. “It really was an accident.”
“What was an accident, Eric?”
“I saw Lillian and my dad drive into town together. I saw them turn in, up at the Collier place. I followed them. I thought he left us for her.”
For the first time, Bet thought Eric might be telling the truth. “And then what happened?”
“School hadn’t started yet. You and Dylan went with my mom down to Ellensburg for something. I don’t remember what. I had my twenty-two. The one Dad bought me for Christmas. I was just out, I don’t know, shooting at things. Tree trunks, rocks, stop signs. No one else was out. It was cold.”
He paused again, his eyes a thousand miles away. “I saw them. And I was so angry. That woman, I thought she took my father away. I wondered what they were doing in Collier, so I went through the woods, to the house. I snuck in through the back door.”
“Was anyone home?”
“Robert Collier was there.”
“Senior.”
“Yeah, Senior.”
“You heard them talking?”
“Lillian wanted to see her son. She said he was eighteen now and she wanted a chance to talk to him. She wanted to say she was sorry.”
“And Senior was angry?”
“He said he’d pour them all a drink so they could talk about it, and he left the room. I heard the two of them, Lillian and my dad. She asked him if he wanted to go out and visit us, Dylan and me, and he said, ‘No.’ Just like that. He said he was there to make sure she was safe and he’d stay until she was ready to leave.”
Eric’s voice became younger and younger as they talked. His body shrunk in front of Bet as he curled in on himself. He looked more and more like the teenager Bet remembered.
“Did you confront him?”
“I went into the room. I still had the gun in my hand. And I pointed it at them. At my father. I started yelling at them, ‘Why?’ Not really making sense, just ‘Why not come see me?’ ‘Why are you with her?’ Stuff like that. Dad tried to calm me down. Saying I had it wrong. Then Senior came back in and started yelling at me, and my dad was yelling at him, and Lillian was yelling at everyone. I fired the twenty-two and I guess I shot my dad. In his leg.”
Bet could picture the figure in the dark woods. She remembered the hitch in his gait.
“Not bad, but he’s bleeding and Lillian’s screaming, and Senior left the room again. I thought he was going to get a gun of his own. So I hustled Lillian up the stairs. I don’t know why. To get away from my father, I guess. Or to ask her to leave my dad alone. Maybe I was afraid of Robert Collier.” Eric shook his head as if to dispel his memories. “So I’m pushing her up the stairs in front of me, poking her with the gun. We get up to the top and she lurched against the railing, at the top, and before I knew it, she just fell. Onto the stone floor. And the screaming stopped.”
Eric sat quiet, his breath heavy and ragged, as if he’d just run a marathon.
“She broke her neck and your father disposed of her body. To protect you.”
Eric nodded.
“Why didn’t Robert Collier report what you did?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he felt guilty about what his wife had done, sleeping with my dad. Breaking up my family.”
More likely he felt guilty about what he’d done, Bet thought to herself. If Senior hadn’t had an affair with another woman, Lillian wouldn’t have left with Michael. Or maybe he just didn’t want to explain to Rob that his mother had come back to see him and ended up dead. So he decided to hide everything.
“And my father wasn’t involved in any of it, right?”
Eric looked at her in confusion. “What? Your father? Earle had nothing to do with it.”
Bet breathed a sigh of relief. She hoped at least that was true.
“My father said he couldn’t look at me.”
Bet watched Eric in the cell for a moment. Had Michael left for good because of what Eric had done? Or let people think Lillian was with him to protect his son?
“Are you going to turn me in? For that too?” Eric’s voice still sounded like a child.
“You have to take responsibility for everything you’ve done, Eric,” Bet said. “But so does your dad, and Robert Collier. It may take a while to sort out such an old crime. But you have to admit your part. Rob deserves to know what happened to his mother.”
Anger flashed in Eric’s eyes. “Oh, Rob does, does he?”
“For what it’s worth, I’m not sure Lillian actually had an affair with your father. He may have just helped her out as a friend.”
Eric’s anger drained from his face. Bet could see that sink in. That perhaps Lillian’s death had been over nothing at all.
Bet left Eric alone in his cell, then, and walked back to her office, contemplating the intricacies of fathers and sons.
And daughters.
Standing in her office, Bet looked at the portrait of her father, hanging on the wall, the one where he looked like a stranger. She tried to find herself in the man.
“Time to take care of the living,” Bet said to Schweitzer, who lay on the floor, watching her.
She took the photo down. Picking up her own portrait from where she’d relegated it to the closet, she hung it in place on the wall. She was sheriff now. For better or worse.
Bet turned off the lights and called for Schweitzer. It was time to go home.