Molly expected him to give her the song and dance of not being able to reveal details of the case, but he surprised her, “Well, let’s see.” He looked at the ceiling, thinking. “That was about twenty years ago, if I remember correctly.” He pursed his lips, as if he were trying to figure out the details in his mind. “Odd boy, he was. A man, really, but with a boy’s mind.”
“That’s what I’ve heard, sort of,” she offered.
“He wasn’t retarded, not that we could tell anyway. It seemed he was just slow. He would talk slow, move slow, he even thought slow, taking sometimes ten minutes before he would answer questions, but when he answered, he was, or he seemed, one hundred percent certain of his answers.”
“Did anyone in the community have trouble with him before Kate Plummer went missing?” Molly asked.
“No, no, not really.” As he shook his head, his chin jiggled. “Never heard much about the boy.” Detective Brown looked thoughtful. “It wasn’t till the Plummer case that we had any trouble with him.” He looked away, then back at Molly, “But then again, they never do appear dangerous, now, do they?” Molly shrugged noncommittally. Officer Brown continued, “But he knew the details about little Kate Plummer, that’s for sure.” “Do you think he heard someone else talking about it, or that there could have been some other explanation?” she asked.
He gave her a stunned look. “He did it. He took that little girl and killed her.” He stared at Molly until she became uncomfortable and looked down.
Molly bristled at the coldness of his words, and began to feel sick to her stomach. The body of six-year-old Amanda—
“Pastor Lett,” he let out a little laugh, “she was really something. She kept insisting that Rodney had some sort of sixth sense.”
The hair on the back of Molly’s neck stood on end. She gathered her courage and reminded herself that Amanda was not Tracey. “Sixth sense?” she asked.
“I don’t know. It sounded like a load of horse manure to me. You know, the older sister trying to save the younger brother type of thing.” He looked around the room, fidgeted as if he were getting tired of the conversation. He leaned back in his chair, which Molly was sure would send him flying backwards, but it didn’t, and said, “The guy didn’t really have an alibi, either, if I remember correctly. I think he said he was at home when Kate was taken. I don’t remember anyone being able to corroborate that story for him.” He sighed heavily, “People came to fear him very quickly.”
Molly readjusted her position, feeling as though she wanted to run out of the room, cover her ears, and forget the whole thing, but Officer Brown’s voice reeled her back in.
“Pastor Lett found him that night and took his body to Delaware before we could even file a formal report. Said she was too upset to wait for the medical examiner to come by. Said she couldn’t take all of the red tape anymore.” He leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the edge of the table. “She was gone within minutes of the phone call to the police, far as we could tell. She called later that evening, saying they were burying her brother the next morning and apologizing for taking off so quickly.”
“She must have been upset, but isn’t there some protocol for such an event? I mean if he was killed, then wasn’t there a murder investigation?” Molly asked.
“Yes, indeedy, there was. We searched the house, dusted for prints and all, and came up with nothing more than a broken window in the rear, which is how we think the murderers got in. We found boot prints in the house, several, in fact. Farm boots, the type that all the men in these parts wear. There were no solid leads. It sort of died out. In fact, people were happy to have closure at that point, and the Wilmington Police Chief followed up with the Lett family on their end.”
“But, Kate, what happened to her?” she spoke quickly, wanting answers faster than he could give them.
“Well, we continued the search for her. Took his clues, in fact, of a dark cold place. We searched the woods, crevices at Sugarloaf Mountain, trails, and boroughs. We found nothing at all. After a few weeks, we all assumed she was gone—dead, I mean—and that he had disposed of her. The case on Kate Plummer is closed, although the file will remain open until her body is found—if it’s ever found.”
“But—”
Officer Brown stood abruptly, “Mrs. Tanner, you just tell the residents that there’s no connection between the two cases. Rodney Lett is dead and buried.”
Molly knew when she’d been dismissed.
The bell above the door chimed as Molly entered the Country Store, and she shouted out her usual, “Hey, Jin!” and limped toward the coolers. Jin didn’t answer. Molly looked around the small store, four aisles of household necessities and snacks, but no Jin. She walked toward the rear of the store and called out again, “Jin?” He and his wife, Edie, had owned the store for twenty-five years, and Molly had yet to find the store attended by someone other than Jin or Edie. Molly admired his level of responsibility but in no way wanted to mimic it. She was happy that Cole was home with her at night, and even happier that he had been home with Erik when he was little.
The silence of the store pressed in on her. She grabbed a bottle of water and a Power Bar and was about to call out for Jin again when she heard hushed voices coming from the storeroom. Molly’s heart quickened. The store was an easy target for robbery, with the glass of the store covered with banners advertising beer and wine, and the old push-button style cash register. Everyone in town knew that Jin had no security or alarm system—he didn’t believe in them.
Molly stood near the storeroom door, “Jin, are you okay?”
“Be right out,” Jin said, hurriedly. His Korean accent was as strong as ever. Molly heard Edie say something in Korean, and relief washed through her. Jin’s voice became loud and harsh. Molly turned to walk toward the cash register as Jin opened the door, carrying a towel in his right hand. His pants hung off of his slim waist, and his thick black hair was cropped short and combed neatly to the side. “I ring you up,” he said impatiently. “Is Edie…alright?” Molly asked. “Oh yes. She upset, that’s all,” he walked behind the counter. “The little girl that is missing, she worried about her,” he said. Molly was relieved by the simple, appropriate concern. “Do you know the family?” she asked. “No, no. I see the girl before,” he was calm and thoughtful, “but I did not know her family.” Molly paid for her purchase, began to leave, then hesitated, “Jin, did you know Pastor Lett’s brother, Rodney?”
Jin looked up and away, saddened. “Ah, yes,” he said. “I know Rodney.” He busied himself straightening up shelves that lined the wall behind the counter. “Poor Rodney. He no kill that girl.” He looked at Molly and held her gaze.
The comment took Molly by surprise. “I’m sorry…about him. How well did you know him?” she asked.
“He come here. All the time he come here. While his sister was at work, he walked here,” Jin pointed in the direction of the train tracks, and looked toward the back of the store, as if a memory were weaving its way into his mind. “He used to come, talk. He was very, very smart.” The “r” in “smart” came across as an additional short “a”.
“Really?” Molly said, happy to have been told something positive about Rodney, for whom, for some odd reason, she felt horribly sorry. “Tell me about him,” she put her bag on the counter.
“He smart. He knew things,” Jin pointed to his temple and tapped it a few times with his index finger. “He had feelings about things—good and bad—present, future.” Jin looked down at the floor, “That’s what got him in trouble.”