"I'm not sure." Gader's lean face was stern. "Is everything all right, Mr. Denning?"
I squeezed my fists so tightly that my knuckles ached.
"If you go to prison, how's that going to help your wife and son?" Gader asked.
I trembled, feeling anger burn my face.
"Think about what your family needs," Gader said.
I relaxed my fists.
"It's going to be fine, Joe," Gader told the guard. "You can leave us now."
"I'll watch the monitor," the guard said.
"Good idea." Gader waited until the door rumbled shut.
"How could you possibly think I killed my wife and son?"
"It's a standard part of an investigation. When a family member's missing or killed, a lot of times the person responsible is another family member."
"Jesus, how could I have driven the Volvo to Wyoming, then stolen a car and abandoned it in Montana, and somehow have gotten back here to maroon myself in the mountains?"
"You could have if this guy Dant had been working for you."
The depth of Gader's suspicion shocked me. "Why would I have asked Petey to do that?"
"Dant. If you had money troubles and needed the payout from a life-insurance policy, or if you had a girlfriend who made your wife an inconvenience."
I clenched my fists again.
"But there weren't any unusual withdrawals from your bank accounts or your stock portfolio, and there wasn't a hint of scandal about your relations with your family. Besides, I couldn't figure out how you'd have crossed paths with Dant after he got out of jail in Butte and… Quit staring at me like that. The investigation wasn't going anywhere. I had to try a different approach."
"You son of a bitch, you made my friends think I'm responsible for my family's disappearance."
"It wasn't personal. I told you, I was following standard procedure. The point is, you came through the investigation perfectly. You're in the clear."
"Thanks. Thanks a fucking lot."
8
"You seem determined to avoid using Lester Dant's name," the psychiatrist said.
I didn't answer.
"The FBI did a thorough background check," the psychiatrist continued. "They proved that he's not your brother."
My chest was so tight that I could hardly get the words out. "They think Dant crossed paths with my brother and learned what had happened to him as a child. He decided to switch places with Petey, possibly killed him."
I stared out a window toward a pine tree.
"But you don't believe it," the psychiatrist said.
"I can't."
" 'Can't'?" The psychiatrist evaluated the word.
The tightness spread to my throat. "If I accepted that Dant kidnapped my wife and son, I'd have to admit that, given his profile, he'd have done whatever he wanted to them and…" I couldn't bring myself to say "killed them." I kept staring through the window toward the pine tree. "But if Petey was using Dant as an alias…" My voice broke. "If Petey took them, there's a good chance they're still alive."
The psychiatrist sat forward. "Why do you think that?"
"I've tried to put myself in his place." The tree became a blur. "I've done my best to imagine what Petey must have felt when he came into my house. My loving family, my comfortable surroundings. Petey wouldn't have wanted merely to kill me for destroying his life. He'd have wanted my life, the one I'd made for myself."
I forced myself to continue. "I've analyzed the moment when Petey pushed me into the gorge. I've relived it again and again. I think Petey's plan was to wait until Jason wasn't around and then kill me, making it look like an accident. Then he intended to sympathize with Kate and Jason, to make himself indispensable, and eventually to take my place. The only problem was, Jason saw him push me."
I took a deep breath. "So the plan was ruined. What was Petey going to do? Kill Jason? Make that death look like an accident also? Try to take my place with Kate? No. Jason was an essential part of what Petey wanted. Not just my wife but my family. Obviously, he couldn't live in my house then, not without Jason telling the police what he'd seen. But Petey could steal my family. He could hide them someplace and screw my wife whenever he wanted. He could force my son to treat him like a father." I squeezed the words out. "At least they'd be alive. If Petey and Dant are the same person. If Petey took them. But if Dant's who the FBI claims he is, if he isn't Petey, he probably killed Jason right away and hid his body in the mountains. Then he made the best of a failed plan by looting the house and forcing Kate to go someplace with him, probably the Montana mountains, where he could rape her as much as he wanted before he got bored with her and-" I stopped, unable to admit Kate might be dead.
The psychiatrist narrowed her eyes as if I'd just described hell. But whether it was the hell that Kate and Jason suffered or whether it was the hell of what she considered my delusional mind, I couldn't know.
9
As I swallowed another antidepression pill, I heard the doorbell ring. The FBI with news, I hoped.
But when I opened the door, I frowned at children in costumes on my porch. Trick-or-treaters. It was Halloween, but I hadn't been aware. I didn't have candy. Not that they cared. They stumbled back as if I was the one in a scary costume. When I tried to explain, they ran from the porch.
I closed the door and shut off the light. Peering out a darkened window, I saw other costumed children, and as I hoped, they passed the house. I couldn't help remembering that Halloween was one of Jason's favorite holidays. How he'd loved to dress up as a space monster or a mad scientist. How I had loved to go out with him. But that wasn't going to happen now. It made me angry that I'd frightened the children. Was my face that twisted with loss? Were my eyes that dark with insanity?
The vial of pills remained in my hand. Cursing, I threw it across the living room. Depression gave way to fury. What was it that Petey had said when he'd first approached me and I'd thought that he was a fake, when I'd told him to get away before I beat the shit out of him? "Brad, you'd have a harder time outfighting me than when we were kids." We'll see, I thought. In that moment, as I heard someone on the street shout to warn children away from my porch, I vowed to stop waiting for the police and the FBI to do something. I had to stop hoping that something would happen. I had to make something happen.
10
"A theory of substitution?" Gader asked.
"Yes." I was so distraught that I stood in front of his desk instead of sitting. "We know that Petey lied."
"Dant."
"But what if the reason he was so convincing is that he based his lies on the truth? He was in Butte and Colorado Springs at the times he said, after all. He just wasn't doing what he claimed."
"What's that got to do with this theory of-"
"You told me that West Virginia doesn't have a town called Redemption."
"That's correct."
"But what about the rest of the country? Is there a town called Redemption anywhere? Or what about towns in West Virginia whose names have a religious connotation similar to Redemption?"
Gader thought about it. "Possibly. It would help Dant to keep his stories straight."
"Could you check?"
Gader leaned back in his chair. His thin face looked even thinner from weariness. "I'll try. The Bureau has me working double time on…" He pointed toward a thick stack of documents on his desk. "What difference would it make? All that stuff Dant said about his past was a lie to make you sympathize with him."
"But what if it was only partly a lie?"
"It still won't help us find your wife and son. Every lead's been followed. The task force has been disbanded. All we can do is wait for Dant to surface."