She shook her head. 'I'd rather just show you.' She started giving directions. When they reached a road appropriately called Red Dirt Path, she said, 'My father rented a cabin out here.'
'In these woods?'
'Yes.'
'When?'
'Two weeks ago. He had it for the month. According to the realtor, he wanted some peace and quiet. A place to get away from it all.'
Doesn't sound much like your father,' Myron said.
'Not like him at all,' she agreed.
A few minutes later, they arrived at the cabin. Myron had a hard time believing that Adam Culver, a man he had gotten to know fairly well during his time with Jessica, would want to vacation out here. The man lik ed to gamble. He liked the ponies, the roulette wheel, the blackjack table.
He liked action. His idea of a quiet time was a Tony Bennett concert at the Sands.
Jessica got out of the car. Myron followed. Her posture was arrow-straight - So was the walk, something Myron had always loved to watch in the
past. But there was an unmistakable teeter in her step, as though her legs were not sure they could sustain the lovely torso over the long haul.
Their footsteps creaked on the steps of the wooden porch. Myron spotted plenty of dry rot. Jessica unlocked the front door and pushed it open.
'Take a look,' she said.
He did. He said nothing. He could feel her eyes on him.
'I checked his charge card,' she said. 'He spent over three thousand dollars at a place in the city called Eye-Spy.'
Myron knew the store. This was definitely their handiwork. Three videocameras were sprawled across the couch. Panasonic. All with mounting material, so they could be hung up somewhere. There were also three small television monitors. Also Panasonic. The kind you might see at a high-rise's security station. Two VCRs. Toshiba. Lots of cables and wires and stuff like that.
But that stuff wasn't the most bothersome thing he saw. Alone, those electronic goods could have meant one of several things. But two other items - items that drew Myron's eye and held it like a baby near a shiny coin - changed everything. They were the added catalyst. They completed a mixture that was far too noxious to be ignored.
Propped against the wall was a rifle. And on the floor next to it, a set of handcuffs.
Jessica said, 'What the hell was he doing?'
He knew what she was thinking. The dead girls found near here, television images of their battered, decayed bodies hovered above them - the most haunting of ghosts.
'When did he buy this stuff?' Myron asked.
'Two weeks ago.' Her eyes were clear, controlled. 'Listen, I've had time to think about this. Even if our worst fears are true, it doesn't explain anything. What about the picture in the magazine? Or Kathy's handwriting on that envelope? Or the phone calls? Or for that matter his murder?'
Myron looked at her. He knew she was seeking an explanation other than the one that stared them straight in the face. 'Areyou okay?' he asked.
She crossed her arms under her breasts, a hand on each elbow, as if she were hugging herself. 'I feel,' she said, 'unanchored.'
'Can you take more?'
Her hands dropped to her sides. 'Why? What is it?'
He hesitated.
She exploded. 'Goddamn it, don't coddle me!'
'Jess-'
'You know I hate that protect-the-little-lady bullshit of yours! Tell what the hell is going on!'
'Kathy was gang-raped by some of Christian's teammates on the night she disappeared.'
Jessica looked as if she'd just been slapped with an open hand. Myron reached out. 'I'm sorry,' he said.
'Just tell me what happened. Everything.'
He did. Her clear, controlled eyes went blank, lifeless. She remained uncharacteristically silent.
'Bastards,' she managed. 'The goddamn bastards.'
He nodded.
'One of them killed her,' she said. 'Or all of them. To shut her up.'
'It's possible.'
She paused, thinking. Then the eyes came back to life. 'Suppose,' she began slowly, 'that my father learned about the rape.'
Myron nodded.
'What would he do?' she continued. 'How would you react - if it was your daughter?'
I'd be enraged,' Myron replied.
'Would you be able to control yourself?'
'Kathy is not my daughter,' he said. 'And I'm still not sure I can control myself.'
Jessica nodded. 'So maybe, just maybe, that explains this whole setup.
The electronics, the cuffs, the rifle. Maybe he was using this hideaway, deep in the woods, so he could grab a rapist and exact a little private justice.'
'Kathy was gang-raped. There were six of them. This place looks built for one.'
'But,' she continued with the hint of an eerie smile, 'suppose my father was in the exact same position we are in now.'
I don't follow.'
'Suppose he knew the name of only one rapist. Maybe this Horton guy.
What might he do then? What might you do then?'
I might,' Myron said, 'kidnap him and make him tell.'
'Exactly.'
'But it's a hell of a reach. Why would I videotape it? Why would I need cameras and monitors?'
Tape the confession, make sure no one comes down the road, I don't know. You have a better scenario?'
He did not. 'Have you gone through the rest of the house yet?'
