Myron shook his head.
"Then let's move on to Entity two: Adam Culver's involvement. Sometime after Kathy disappears, her father finds the lewd photographs of his little princess in the attic. We know that they were hidden there by Carol Culver. But Adam, I am sure, did not realize that. He would have naturally assumed that Kathy had hidden them there. He would also have naturally assumed that the pictures were connected to his daughter's disappearance."
"Logical," Myron agreed.
"Yes, quite." Win twirled his cognac, studying the color. "Adam Culver then enlists the aid of Paul Duncan in his investigation. They track down the photographs' place of origin with the help of Fred Nickler. They also find out about Gary Grady. They continue their investigation, but nothing new develops. Paul wants to give up. Adam is desperate--so desperate that he tries to draw out the assailant in a most unorthodox manner."
Win paused, considering. "Here," he said, "is where it gets very interesting. We know Adam Culver had the photographs. We know he arranged to have them put in a pornographic magazine. I find it significant that the picture was placed only in Nips magazine."
Myron leaned forward. They were on the same wavelength. "The magazine with the smallest--almost nonexistent--circulation."
"That fact disturbed you from the beginning," Win said.
Myron nodded. "Someone didn't want that magazine seen by a lot of people."
"Like her father."
"Right."
"And," Win continued, "we know that Adam Culver liked to frequent the casinos of Atlantic City. He might have met your friend Blackjack during one of his visits or at least heard his name. He could have hired someone else to forge his daughter's handwriting. He probably had a tape with her voice from an old answering machine. Ergo, Adam Culver set the whole thing up. He sent out the magazine to everyone who might have been involved in Kathy's disappearance. Her fiance, for one. People in the picture, like Junior Horton."
"Why did he send one to his wife?" Myron asked.
"I don't know."
"And Dean Gordon?"
"Perhaps the dean was in one of those attic photographs. Or perhaps Adam found out about Kathy's visit to the dean's house that night. Most likely Adam was merely considering every possibility. But it's not really that relevant to the case. What is relevant, however, is the question of why Adam did not once again enlist the help of Paul Duncan."
"Because," Myron said, "Adam found out that Paul was sleeping with his wife."
Win nodded. "Paul was no longer a friend or trustworthy. Adam was now on his own. He sent the package to Sir Blackjack, making sure it would never be traced back to him. Then Adam set up his second little sting operation, the one on his wife and Paul. He walked in on them, ran out, and was killed."
"So who murdered him?" Myron said.
Win put down the snifter on a harpsichord from the seventeenth century. He steepled his fingers, bouncing them gently off one another. "There are two strong possibilities," he said. "First, Paul Duncan. We cannot just dismiss him. He had motive and opportunity. Second, Adam wanted to stir up the killer, that much is clear. But perhaps the magazine stirred up more trouble than he'd anticipated."
"Except for one thing," Myron interjected. "The magazines hadn't been sent out yet. Adam was dead two days before Blackjack mailed them."
"So perhaps someone discovered what Adam was up to before they were mailed."
"Otto Burke?"
Win shrugged.
"But Otto has no connection to Kathy Culver," Myron said.
"None that we are aware of. Which leads us to Entity three: the unknowns. A major unknown, as I see it, is Nancy Serat. We can assume that she gave Adam Culver valuable information. But we do not know who killed her. Or what she meant when she told Christian it was time for sisters to reunite. And we especially do not know why Kathy Culver's hair was found on her dead body."
Win rechecked his hair. Perfect. He smiled, winked, did everything but kiss his own reflection. "We also have no explanation for Adam Culver's cabin in the woods. He could have become desperate enough to grab suspects and do his own interrogations. Or he could have been seeking retribution for all in the wicked photographs. On someone like Gary Grady. Or Junior Horton. But for some reason my mind cannot fully accept either of these rationales."
Myron nodded. It didn't feel right to him either.
"And so now we've reached the final unknown. The most significant unknown of all: Miss Kathy Culver herself. Is she alive? Is she behind all this? Is she involved in any way at all?"
Win picked the snifter off the harpsichord. He took a sip of cognac, let it roll around his tongue, swallowed. "The end."
They both sat in silence. Myron churned the facts though his head yet again. None of them changed. Win studied his face.
"This was all a mental exercise," Win said. "A test drive, as it were."
Myron said nothing.
"You know what happened. You knew before I said a word."
Myron handed Win the telephone. "Cancel your date. We have a lot of work to do."
Chapter 47
The memorial service.
Myron slipped in late and ducked behind a pillar. He was in desperate need of a shower, a shave, a nap. And he looked it.
He spotted Jessica in the front pew. She sat on one side of her mother, Edward on the other. All three were crying.
The priest delivered the standard death spiel like an actor who knew his lines too well. Nothing new or original was said. There was no coffin, no well-dressed corpse in peaceful repose. The priest seemed bothered by this, by the absence of his customary prop. He kept motioning down on cue, only to draw back when he realized that there was nothing in front of him.
Myron stayed out of sight. The church was crowded. Paul Duncan sat in the second row, directly behind Carol. Every once in a while Paul would put his hand on her shoulder, but he'd never leave it there long. Appearances. Christian was next to him, head lowered in prayer. Otto Burke and Larry Hanson were a few rows back. Good PR move. The press would undoubtedly be made aware of Otto Burke's heartfelt concern for his players' personal plights. Again, appearances.
Win was near the back. To his right sat Sally Li. Her face looked drawn, as if she could use a cigarette. Myron had spoken to her late last night. She had done the test. It had come out as he'd suspected.
Dean Gordon and his wife Madelaine were off to the left. Dean Gordon looked grim. Madelaine Gordon looked good in black. Myron recognized a few other faces in the crowd, but he couldn't put a name or place to any of them. It didn't matter.
The priest made a few last comments about the hereafter, God's will, and reuniting with the beloved in Heaven. Jessica's sob racked her whole body. No one put an arm around her. No one comforted her. She looked small and frail. Myron felt a lump rise in this throat.
Here we go.
When the ceremony ended, Myron did not hesitate. He walked purposively down the aisle. Jessica ran toward him without hesitation. They hugged, both closing their eyes. The mourners turned away and began to head for the exit. Win kept close to Otto Burke, Larry Hanson, and Dean Gordon.
Jessica finally released her grip. "Where were you?" she asked.
Myron swallowed. He nodded to Paul Duncan, shook hands with Edward and Christian, lightly kissed Carol on the cheek.
"I don't know how to say this," Myron said.
"What's the matter?"
He looked her straight in the eye. "I found Kathy. She's alive."
The group went silent.
Jessica opened her mouth, closed it.
"I'm meeting her tonight," Myron said.
Jessica finally found her voice. "I don't understand."
"It's a long story. But she's alive. I'll bring her home to you tonight."
Jessica looked at Carol. Carol looked back. Everyone looked at everyone else.
"I'll go with you," Jessica said.
"You can't."
"Like hell I can't."
"
I promised her," Myron said. "Just me. Alone. She's scared."
"Of what?"
"Of the person who tried to kill her."
"Who?"
Myron shook his head. "She wouldn't tell me. Not on the phone." He took hold of Jessica's hand. It was cold and stiff. Like marble. "I'll bring her right to the house. I promise. We'll all talk then. But we can't risk scaring her off."
Jessica shook her head. She looked lost. "Where are you meeting her?"
"It's in the woods."
"What woods?" Jessica pulled back a little. "You're not making any sense."
"I can't tell you, Jess. I promised her. Kathy said it's the spot where she was left for dead. She wants to show me where it happened."
More silence.
Paul Duncan said, "Dear God."
Carol practically fainted into his arms.
"Where has she been?" Jessica asked.
"I only know bits and pieces from my investigation. She spent most of the time recovering from her injuries. She also spent some time in the Caribbean. An island called Curacao. I picked up her trail from an entry that night in St. Mary Hospital's registry. On the night she vanished, a patient was found unconscious in the middle of a road. She gave her name as Katherine Pierce."
Carol gasped. "Pierce? That's my maiden name."
Myron nodded. "I don't know all the details yet. She was hit over the head. The blow cracked her skull. The assailant thought she was dead. But she wasn't. He buried her in the woods. She woke up and managed to dig herself out. It's a miracle she survived."
Jessica's eyes filled with tears. "She's alive?"
"Yes."
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
Jessica hugged her mother then. Edward joined in. Christian and Paul watched dumbfounded. Myron turned toward the door. Win was standing there. His nod was almost imperceptible.
Chapter 48
Myron parked his car on the dirt road. He was alone. The car's clock read 8:30 P.M. He grabbed his flashlight and headed toward the meeting spot.
The brush was thick. Several branches whipped across his face. He listened for other sounds. Crickets hummed away. Nothing else. The flashlight sliced through the heavy darkness, carving a path for him to follow. Myron heard his feet crunch on twigs and leaves. His mouth felt bone-dry. It always felt that way at moments like this.
He was getting close now, no more than twenty or thirty yards away.
"Kathy?" he called out.
No answer.
"It's Myron, Kathy. I'm alone."
No reply. But then Myron heard a shuffling from in front of him. Something came into view. A head. A head of long blond hair.
"It's okay," Myron said gently. "I'm here alone."
She stepped toward him tentatively. Her right hand shaded her eyes from the flashlight's harsh glare. Myron pointed the beam away. "It's all right," he said.
She continued to move toward him, a dim silhouette. Her steps were slow, plodding, like a B-movie monster come to life.
"It's okay," Myron said again. "No one is going to hurt you."
"I wish that were true."
The voice had not come from her. It had come from behind him. Myron closed his eyes. His shoulders slumped. "Hello, Christian."
"Don't move, Mr. Bolitar. Put your hands up."
"Why bother?"
"What?"
"You're going to kill us. Just like you tried to kill Kathy. Just like you killed her father and Nancy."
"I never meant to hurt anybody," he said.
"But you did."
Christian cocked the gun. "Hands up. Now."
Myron raised his hands slowly. "Kathy opened up to you that night. She told you everything--every sordid detail of her past. She wanted to clean the slate."
"She lied to me!" Christian shouted. "All the time we were together--it was all a lie."
"So you tried to kill her."
"Kathy wanted me to still love her, Mr. Bolitar. But don't you see? I never loved her. I loved a lie. She wanted me to stand beside that lie while she told her story to the world. She wanted me to sell out my teammates, toss away a chance at a national championship and Heisman trophy--all for the sake of a lying whore."
"A lying whore," Myron said, "like your mother."
He nodded. "Mr. Bolitar, tell her. Tell her what that game meant. In terms of money, fame, pride. You understand, Mr. Bolitar. It helped get me that contract."
"So you hit her over the head."
"I didn't mean to. It just happened. I thought she was dead. I couldn't find a pulse."
"So you drove her out here and buried the body. You hoped she'd never be found, but if she were, it'd be blamed on a serial killer."
Christian stepped closer. He raised the gun. "Enough talk," he said. "I'm not going to let you stall around until someone shows up."
"No need. Someone's been here all the time."
Win came out from behind a tree, no more than a yard away from Christian. He pressed the .44 against Christian's ear and said, "Drop it, or your brain becomes squirrel lunch."
Christian dropped the gun.
"It's over," Myron shouted.
From a farther distance two uniformed police arrived. They handcuffed Christian.
Jake Courter stumbled behind them, high-stepping through the long grass. "Too old for this shit," he mumbled. When he reached the clearing he said, "Nice setup, Bolitar."
"Lots of details. The secret to a good scam."
"Gonna tell me what's going on now?"
"Sure. Jess?"
Jessica took off the blond wig and stepped forward.
Christian's mouth dropped open. "What the--"
"You killed Kathy," Myron said, "but not from the blow to the head. She suffocated trying to claw her way out of the dirt."
Jake looked confused. "Where's the body?"
"In the morgue. Where it's been since the police found it two months ago. Sally Li confirmed the identity last night."
"So why hadn't it been identified before?"
"Because the county medical examiner was Kathy's father. He knew who it was right away, but he pretended otherwise."
"Why?"
"Think about it a second, Jake. From Adam Culver's perspective. Your case had gone nowhere in eighteen months. Adam knew that. He also knew the body provided no new clues. So he figured that the only way to catch Kathy's killer was to draw him out. How? By making the killer think Kathy might still be alive. After all, she'd been alive when he dumped her in the woods. So Adam kept the corpse's identity a secret from everyone--the police, his friends, even his own family. He also figured that the nude photographs were tied into all this. So he used them."
"You mean he put that ad in the magazine?"
Myron nodded. "Adam Culver arranged everything. Even the mysterious phone calls saying 'Come and get me. I survived.' He did everything he could to make it look like Kathy was alive."
Jake nodded. "So what you guys were just doing--"
"Was finishing up Adam Culver's plan. Our performance at the church this morning sowed the final seeds of doubt."
"You were forcing Christian to make a play for you."
"Exactly."
"Incredible. So everyone was in on on this?"
"Jessica was," Myron said. "So were her mother and brother. It would have been too cruel to lie to them. But Paul Duncan didn't know. Neither did anybody else, and Win made sure that all the suspects--Otto, the dean, even Gary Grady--knew about Kathy's 'survival.'"
"Then you weren't sure it was Christian?"
"No, I was sure."
"You were trying to play it fair."
Myron nodded. "That's why I didn't tell you anything. I wanted you to see what happened without any preconceived notions."
"Fair enough," Jake said. "Go on."
"Adam Culver understood that only the killer would know this spot. If he made the killer think Kathy could still be alive, he or she would have to come back here--just to make sure Kathy was de
ad. That was why Adam rented that cabin nearby. That was why he had all that electronic equipment. To tape him. To have proof."
"Catching the killer returning to the scene of the crime," Jake said.
"Right."
"But I don't get something. Adam was killed before the magazine was mailed out. How did Christian find out about it?"
"He didn't. Remember, Adam was a pathologist. He wasn't an investigator. He overlooked a very important clue. At first anyway."
"What clue?"
"Kathy's clothes."
"What about them?"
"When Kathy's body was found, she was wearing a yellow sweater and a pair of gray sweat pants. Yet the sorority sisters said she was wearing blue when she left the house. The rapists said she was wearing blue. Dean Gordon said she was wearing blue. Ricky Lane said she was wearing blue. The sorority sisters were also positive that Kathy never returned to the house. So the question was: Where did the yellow sweater and gray sweat pants come from?"
Jake shrugged.
"It took Adam a while to realize the significance of the clothes. But when he did, he went to the most obvious source. Kathy's roommate."
"Nancy Serat."
"Right. But he didn't want to let on that Kathy's body had been found. So he asked Nancy where he could find her favorite yellow sweater, pretending to be a typical dad on some kind of nostalgic tour. But think about it. If Kathy didn't go back to her sorority house, where did she change clothes?"
Jake saw it now. "At Christian's," he said with a snap of the fingers. "Kathy slept there all the time. She must have kept clothes there."
"Right."
"And Nancy and Christian were friends," Jake said, picking up the thread. "She'd see nothing wrong with telling Christian all about Adam's visit. Probably thought the whole thing was kinda cute."
Myron turned toward Christian. "You got scared when you heard Adam had been asking about the yellow sweater. You knew he was getting close. So you followed him that night. You heard him fight with his wife. You saw him storm out of the house, and you figured this was the ideal opportunity to kill him. Another perfect misdirection."
Christian said nothing.
Jake said, "What do you mean, 'another perfect misdirection'?"
"When your investigation of Kathy's disappearance began," Myron said, "who did you focus in on?"
"Christian," Jake said. "Like I said, we always check out the boyfriend."
"So what did Christian do? With campus security combing the campus for clues, he planted the panties on the top of a garbage bin."