Lost Innocents (25 page)

Frank Cameron watched her get ready suspiciously. “I’m using your phone,” he announced as she checked her purse carefully for her wallet and her keys.

“Help yourself,” she said unnecessarily, for he was already punching in the number. He looked down at her, standing by the door, jingling her keys. Waiting for them to leave.

“I feel sorry for you, lady,” he said. “Take my advice and cut him loose. That way the crud won’t get all over you and the kid.”

Maddy called back to Terry in what she hoped was a normal voice, “Terry, I have to go out for a while. To get Amy. I’ll be back.”

She ignored his muttered reply. She stepped out onto the front steps, where the three officers were conferring. Just then another officer came tearing up the street in a black-and-white, his siren wailing.

Great, Maddy thought. Let the whole neighborhood know. Then she shuddered. It sounded as if they would know soon enough anyway. She got into her car, reminding herself of her plan, her route. First the convenience store, to call Ruth. She had her address book in her purse. Then, the fort. She looked at her watch. She would be there in fifteen minutes. No longer. In fifteen minutes he was going to have to tell her. She was going to make him tell her everything.

F
ort Wynadot, or what remained of it, sat on a hilltop in the middle of a nature preserve on the outskirts of Taylorsville. From its ramparts you could see the Hudson River, and many a fantasy game of Davy Crockett and the Deerslayer had been played out atop its timbered walls. There were old cannons, small, dense, and unwieldy, that small children loved to sit astride or pretend to fire, although they were inoperable now.

For those with a more strictly historical perspective, there were tours in the summer, with student guides dressed in buckskin outfits to lend an air of authenticity. The grounds and woods were popular with picnickers whenever the weather was good. Today, late on a gloomy fall afternoon, the fort and the park were deserted. Maddy drove slowly through the wooded roads of the preserve and pulled into the parking lot nearest the foot of the hill, parking her car beside Doug’s. She got out and looked around. No sign of him. He had said he would be at the fort, but he did not hail her, so she trudged up the hill. When she she reached the top, she looked around. From this distance the Hudson looked like a tiny stream, threading its silver way through a dusty green-and-brown valley. She walked around the perimeter of the fort, wondering where in the world Doug was and feeling more and more angry at the hide-and-seek game he seemed to be playing.

“Doug,” she called out sharply.

The third time she called, he answered. “Up here.” She looked up and saw him in one of the corners of the fort, leaning against one of those long-distance viewers that cost a quarter and inevitably snapped off as soon as you located what you wanted to look at.

“Come down here,” Maddy demanded.

“Why don’t you come up,” he said. “The view’s great from up here. The stairs are right inside.”

“I’m in no mood for a view,” she said icily.

He took a last, longing look at the landscape, and then, with an expression of resignation on his face, temporarily disappeared from sight. He emerged a minute later from the gate of the fort. She stood waiting for him, her arms folded over her chest.

He came over to her and gave her a dutiful peck on the cheek. Then he pointed to a bench on the nearby path. “Shall we sit?” he said.

“No,” said Maddy.

“So that’s how it’s going to be,” he said wearily. “Okay.”

“Okay?” she demanded. “Okay? I had to ditch the chief of police to come up here.”

“What do the police want?”

“They want to talk to you,” she said.

“Really? Why?” he asked ingenuously.

“You know why. Don’t pretend you don’t.”

“No. I don’t,” he said. “All right? I don’t.”

“It’s about Rebecca Starnes. They have a witness who saw you talking to her just before she was killed.”

Doug snorted. “That’s what they said before. Remember? I better get on the phone to Henson. More hoops to jump through. This is ridiculous.”

“If it’s so ridiculous, why are you hiding out here?” said Maddy.

“Hey, you were the one who pretended I was Ruth Crandall when I called. I don’t know what you’re up to. Don’t get me wrong. I think it was nice of you to try to protect me. Very wifely of you.” He tried to pat her on the shoulder, but she jerked away from him.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not trying to protect you. I’m here because I don’t want to be the last to know what really happened.”

“You know what happened,” Doug protested. “That insane police chief is on a vendetta against me because his daughter was exposed for the liar that she is.”

“Are you sure she was lying, Doug?” she said.

Doug glanced at her bitterly. “I wondered when you’d turn on me. God knows, it’s not easy living with you,” he said. “Saint Madeline.”

She had the sudden, stunning certainty that her marriage was on the line. For a moment she wanted to walk away and not pursue this any further. A marriage was such a complicated intertwining of lives. She and Doug were woven together by a thousand separate strands of words, time, and memories. If she interrogated him no further, continued to believe in him, maybe the ties that bound them would hold, would not break. There was a desperate voice inside, clamoring for her to hold on to her marriage. Not to light the fuse that would blast her life apart. They had a child, a home, a life. If she stopped questioning him now, maybe…

But it was a fleeting thought. How long could she live in the dark? Faith in another person wasn’t something you could fake. She had seen things in him lately, ugly depths that frightened her. She had suspicions. More than suspicions. Grave doubts. And all his sarcasm didn’t make her feel like forgetting it. If anything, it had the perverse effect of making her want to pursue it.

“You know what your problem is?” he said. “Your problem is that you’re frustrated because your boyfriend the priest got away. I shouldn’t have interfered. I should have let you two get on with it. You were much nicer when you had him to cuddle up to.”

She looked at him and wondered why she had ever thought he was handsome. He looked washed out, featureless, in the fading light. “Insulting me is not going to get you off the hook,” she said coldly. “I want to know the truth.”

Doug glared at her. “This doesn’t come as any surprise to me. I’ve known for a long time that you didn’t believe in me. You’ve been dying to say it. So, go ahead. Say it.”

Was it true? she wondered. Was he right? She had tried to believe him, because she wanted to believe him so much. How many times the image of him entangled in the arms of that sullen schoolgirl had come into her mind and she had willed it away. It was either believe him or face the fact that her marriage was coming unglued. She shook her head. “You’re wrong,” she said. “I did want to believe you—more than anything.”

“Well, wanting to and doing it are two different things,” he fumed.

He was looking out over the slope of the hill into the trees, glowering, his arms folded over his chest. Her own heart was beating furiously, partly from anger, partly from fear. Fear because once these things were said, they would never be taken back; things would never be as they were. She thought of Amy and wondered what she should do for Amy. This was her father. She had a right to be proud of her father. Not to have him trashed by her mother. But it was no use. Maddy had to live with herself.

“I did believe in you. But I’m afraid that was a mistake on my part.”

He looked at her, vaguely surprised that his tactic of taking the offense hadn’t derailed her anger. She had never seemed particularly tough to him. In fact, he remembered thinking, when he met her, that she was gentle and pliable. He never would have married her if he had known about her steely side. He’d had enough of dominating women with his mother. Enough to last a lifetime. But, sadly, over these years together, he had come to see that Maddy had the same tendencies as all the rest of them.

It was always the same way with women. They started out sweet and eager to please, and in the end they were cold and they never gave way. It was the nature of the beast. They loved nothing better than to punish you.

Standing here now, gazing at his defiant wife, Doug felt a sudden sense of detachment, of release, that he had not expected. It didn’t matter what she thought about him. He didn’t care whether she believed him or not. None of it really mattered anymore. He had fought it all he was going to.

Maddy frowned at him. “What is it, Doug?”

“Does everyone think the way you do?” he asked. “I mean, if your own wife sees you that way, doesn’t it follow that the whole world will?”

Maddy sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re asking, Doug.”

He did not reply, but started down the hill toward his car.

“Wait a minute,” said Maddy. “You can’t just walk away from me.”

She rushed after him, stumbling as she made her way down the hill. As she reached the car, he turned around to face her. “Everyone’s going to be saying the same thing,” he said.

“Douglas Blake,” said a voice behind them.

They both turned around at once. It was Chief Cameron, flanked by three other officers.

Maddy and Doug looked at each other.

“Well, you didn’t think we believed that corny old ploy about picking up your daughter,” said the chief. “I wasn’t born yesterday, you know.”

M
addy stared disbelief as the police chief yanked Doug by the arm toward the police cruiser.

Doug looked back at Maddy ruefully. “What did you do? Leave a trail of crumbs? Thanks a a lot.”

Her face flamed at his accusation. “I didn’t tell them anything. Doug…”

“She tried the little ploy about talking to the baby-sitter,” said Frank Cameron. “You don’t really think we’re that stupid, do you?”

“Good work, Maddy,” Doug said tiredly.

Frank Cameron, who still had Doug by the arm, gave him a teeth-rattling shake. “Shut up, you asshole,” he cried.

“Easy, Frank,” Pete said in a soothing voice, looking around the empty grounds to make sure they weren’t being observed.

“You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve blaming your wife. She was trying to protect you, you slimy bastard.”

“Just take him,” said Pete.

“Maddy, call Charles Henson,” said Doug. “Tell him the cops are harassing me again.”

“Harassing you,” Frank cried. He pulled Doug up close to him so that their noses were practically touching.

“That’s good,” Doug said defiantly. “I want your fingerprints in black and blue all over my arms. It’ll prove my point.”

Frank Cameron only gripped him harder. “Don’t play chicken with me, little boy. You are bound to lose.”

“Keep it up,” said Doug. “Police brutality. People don’t look kindly on that, you know. The man in the street doesn’t want to be bullied by cops.”

“Frank, he’s right,” Pete interjected. “Let’s not give this slimeball a technicality to walk away on.”

“Doesn’t my husband have the right to have an attorney present?” Maddy asked, rallying to Doug’s defense from long habit.

“How much does she know about you?” Frank demanded. “The good little wife who runs around trying to shield you.”

“There’s nothing to know,” said Doug. “Your daughter’s a liar.”

“What about Karla Needham? Does she know about Karla Needham? Does she know that you were trying to screw another schoolgirl just this afternoon?”

Doug’s face turned pale.

“Who is Karla Needham?” Maddy asked. “Doug?”

“Nobody,” Doug said. “He’s blowing hot air.”

A broad, satisfied smile spread across Frank Cameron’s face. “Gotcha, didn’t I? You didn’t realize you weren’t alone this afternoon.”

“What’s he talking about, Doug?” Maddy demanded.

Doug just shook his head. “Go call Charles Henson. He’ll get this pack of wolves off of me.”

Frank turned to Maddy. “Do you really want to know? Because I’ll be happy to tell you.”

Pete took Frank gently by the arm. “Come on, Frank. You know this isn’t procedure.”

Frank angrily shook off the detective’s arm. “This isn’t official. It’s personal.” He looked at Maddy, and his eyes frightened her. They were full of pain and intensity. “He made my daughter look like a liar and a sick, messed-up kid. Now, I haven’t been the best father in the world. I admit it. But it hurt me all the same. I felt for my kid, and there was nothing I could do. And you, you wanted to believe him. I could see you were trying not to believe a word that Heather said.”

“The judge didn’t believe her, either,” Maddy reminded him.

“He preys on them. He’s a vulture. I think he was preying on Rebecca Starnes. But she wasn’t having any of it. I think it made him real mad. Mad enough to kill. I think we’ll be able to prove it.”

Maddy put her hands over her ears. “He’s right,” she said. “You are harassing him. This is just more speculation….”

“Yeah, well, Karla Needham isn’t speculation,” said Frank.

“Who is Karla Needham?”

Frank looked at her almost sympathetically. “Karla Needham and Heather have known each other since kindergarten. Karla and her friend Richie Talbot believed Heather. They knew she wasn’t lying. They just wanted to prove it.”

“Don’t listen to him, Maddy,” Doug pleaded.

Maddy stared at the chief, wondering what was coming. “How could they prove it? It was your daughter’s word against Doug’s.”

Frank shook his head. “Not anymore,” he said. “Now we’ve got it on a videotape. This afternoon, your husband was looking for somebody new, somebody young, to make him forget his troubles. Karla Needham was there.”

“You’re lying,” Doug cried.

Frank turned and stared at him. “They brought us the tape. That Richie Talbot makes a pretty good photographer. You look like a regular movie star, with your paws all over her, up her skirt, under her blouse.”

Doug’s eyes narrowed. “You can’t use it in court. I was entrapped…. Maddy, call Charles and tell him they are holding me without any legally obtained evidence…”