“By the looks of it, he assaulted her,” Tom said to him. “We’re leaving. Now.”
“You can’t just break into my home and attack my family,” Roland managed to say.
“I’m leaving with my daughter now, and you can’t stop me,” Tom shot back.
Mitchell was still writhing on the floor in pain. He was holding his neck and whimpering.
“You can go back to jail for this,” Roland said.
“Cool. Mitchell and I can become prison pals.”
Tom eased his grip around Roland’s neck. Roland slumped to the floor and began rubbing at the spot where Tom’s hand had been.
“Let’s be rational here,” Roland said, still breathing hard. Mitchell had managed to get himself onto his knees. He wasn’t going to be standing anytime soon.
“Okay, let’s,” Tom said. “I need five hundred dollars for my cab ride home.”
“Are you buying what I think you are?” said Roland.
Tom got low to the floor. He leaned in close to Roland so that Jill couldn’t overhear him. “I’m not buying my daughter’s silence, if that’s what you’re asking. If she wants to press charges against Mitchell, that’ll be her decision.”
Roland took out his wallet. He stayed slumped on the floor. He fished out five crisply pressed hundred-dollar bills.
“I hope it doesn’t come to that,” Roland said.
Tom plucked another hundred from the billfold. “For the tip,” he said.
Tom stood and took hold of Jill’s hand. They walked the length of the hallway together. He helped his daughter navigate the majestic staircase, because her footing was uncertain. They emerged into a star-drenched night, bathed by a warm southerly breeze, and followed the walkway to the driveway’s edge.
Tom signaled for the waiting cab. The driver kept his headlights turned off. He pulled over to pick them up. Tom eased Jill into the backseat of the cab. He came around the other side and slipped in beside her.
“Where to?” the driver asked.
“Home,” Tom said.
Jill rested her head on his shoulder as she wept.
Chapter 55
Tom eased Jill onto the sofa. Her skin was pale and clammy to the touch. Her breathing was shallow. He covered her with a thick fleece blanket and left the living room, to return holding a blood pressure cuff and gauge. Over the years coaching soccer, Tom had amassed enough medical equipment to open his own ambulatory service. To his relief, the blood pressure reading was normal, so while Jill exhibited some of the symptoms of shock, he didn’t need to rush her to a hospital.
Tom sat on the faded yellow armchair across from Jill. His head continued to pound. Adding to his discomfort, Tom’s knee had ballooned to the size of a youth soccer ball, and the IV puncture hole had begun to bleed.
Jill pointed to the red river of blood that snaked across the back of Tom’s hand and ended up as drips on the armchair.
“You’re bleeding, Dad,” she said. Those were the first words she’d spoken since the cab ride home. “I’ll get you a bandage.”
Jill came back with a Hello Kitty Band-Aid. The two shared a quick laugh after she secured it in place.
“Are you ready to talk?” Tom asked.
Jill retreated to the sofa and rested her head on a makeshift platform of her interlocking fingers. She kept her eyes fixed to a spot on the floor, and her expression remained grave.
“I’m not going to judge you, honey,” Tom added, “but I’d like to know the truth. What did Mitchell Boyd do to you?”
Jill stared up at her father through a glaze of tears. Her bottom lip trembled, and Tom knew it meant a flood was imminent. “I can’t tell you,” she sobbed into her hands.
Just thinking about Mitchell Boyd made him want to return to that house and inflict further misery on the boy.
“Jill, this is really important,” Tom said. “I need you to trust me. Did he hurt you? Did he touch you in a threatening way?”
Jill’s gaze again retreated to that spot on the floor, and she shook her head. It was a tentative no at best.
“Tell me exactly what he did that got you so scared,” he said.
“I guess I thought he was going to hurt me,” Jill responded. The timbre of her voice came at him weak and rueful. “I didn’t know who else to call,” she continued. “I’m sorry I caused so much trouble. Maybe… I just overreacted.”
Tom stood up and plopped down on the sofa beside her. He pulled Jill close to him. Something inside of her must have let go when he did. Tom felt her whole body begin to relax. He brushed away a tear that lingered near her eye. Jill crinkled her nose and smiled at him after he smoothed it away.
“Jill,” Tom said in a more somber tone, “I need you to open up to me about Mitchell. I need to know everything.”
Jill shook her head. Her posture changed. She seemed more closed off again. “I don’t want to talk about what happened.”
Tom glanced over at the whiteboard, and that big, obtrusive square with the word trust in the center. Jill leaned over and gently kissed her father on the cheek.
“Will you come back home?” Tom said.
“I am home,” Jill said. She inhaled a sob, then let her own tears fall freely. She fell into her father’s open arms, and he wrapped her warmer than any fleece blanket ever could.
“Please trust me,” Tom said. “Please give me a chance. I told you my greatest secret. Please don’t burden yourself by keeping secrets from me.”
Jill nodded.
Tom stood up and walked over to the whiteboard. With the palm of his hand he erased the square blocking the goal. Tom turned around to look at Jill.
“What really happened at Mitchell’s?” asked Tom.
Jill took in a heavy breath and breathed it out slowly. “We were hanging out in his room. But we weren’t doing anything—”
“I know,” Tom said, nodding so that she could skip over the uncomfortable details. “Go on.”
“Well, he wanted to do things that I wasn’t comfortable doing. He started to push me into it, and I got scared. I didn’t know who else to call. So I called you.”
“Did he rape you, Jill?”
Jill shook her head. “No. I think maybe he might have if you hadn’t come. I don’t know.”
Tom bit his lip. The furious impulse to inflict permanent damage to Mitchell Boyd had returned. “Okay. Is that everything? Are you sure you’re telling me everything, Jill? No more secrets.”
Jill nodded emphatically. “That’s everything. I swear.”
Chapter 56
Rainy was back at work in Boston. She was getting ready to leave for the day. Her report on the James Mann investigation for the USAO was nearly complete. It was detailed and heinous, a report on the darkest of hearts. She would be glad to be done with it. But she had more reports like this to write, and more investigations to conclude.
This was the job in the cyber crimes squad. It never got easier.
Rainy’s work in Shilo was basically over. She’d interviewed all ten girls from Shilo High School whose pictures were found on computers belonging to James Mann and Tom Hawkins. The four new girls she’d interviewed lied to her as well. They’d sent their pictures to somebody, but Rainy couldn’t prove it. From the subpoenaed phone records all Rainy could ascertain was that they didn’t text or call Tom Hawkins. Several had texted and called Tanner Farnsworth, as they had lots of different boys from Shilo High School.
Rainy even got three of the girls to agree to consent to searches of their phones. But she found nothing useful. The sent messages were mostly texts. The pictures attached were of friends and parties. Nothing lewd. Nothing lascivious.