Rusty called him a loser who had nothing going for him. The more Rusty talked, Brian gradually came to realize that Rusty was also characterizing Ledge Burnet, who’d already served a stint in juvenile detention. He was bound for jail for the second time, and he hadn’t even graduated high school yet. With even more clarity, Brian realized that he could fill in his own name each time Rusty made a disparaging comment about the down-and-out Mr. Maxwell.

That’s when it dawned on him that they all three would make ideal patsies for Rusty Dyle, whose immunity was practically guaranteed because his father was not only a high-ranking public official, he was also the most corrupt.

Rusty ended his speech by saying, “So let’s meet there, okay?”

Brian was dumbstruck by a disturbing realization: He was the last person anybody with half a brain would choose as an accomplice to shoplift a pack of chewing gum, much less to pull a grand heist like this.

Beyond gaining entrance into the store and opening the safe, what purpose did he serve? His mother would say, “That of chump, stupid.”

Rusty shouted in his ear. “Brian!”

He’d been dumbstruck by the revelation and had to swallow several times before acknowledging Rusty.

“What the hell? I thought we’d gotten disconnected.”

“No, I’m here,” Brian said huskily.

“What do you think?”

He swallowed again. “I think it’s really unfair to Mr. Maxwell. He—”

“Okay, okay, never mind about that now. We’ll cross that bridge only if and when we need to. Top priority now is to hide this money. Remember where we knocked back that first six-pack of Coors? I’ll meet you there in half an hour. Lots of places along that channel to stash it. See you there.” Then he was gone.

Brian used three of his allotted thirty minutes just sitting there, staring at his phone.

Finally he moved, but only his thumb, to scroll through his call log. It didn’t amount to more than a dozen calls, mostly to the pizza place that delivered. But among the calls was the one Joe Maxwell had placed to him a few weeks earlier.

He took a deep breath and tapped on it.

Mr. Maxwell must have seen that it was Brian calling, because he answered in a hushed, but surprised, voice. “Foster?”

“Yes, it’s me. We need to talk, Mr. Maxwell. Like right now.”

Chapter 18

Ledge carried Arden’s empty plate to the sink and returned the sandwich makings to the fridge. “Want anything else?”

“No thank you. Were you convicted of the drug charge?”

He went back to the table and sat down. “The subject was your dad.”

“It was. I told you all I know. I want to hear what happened after your arrest.”

“The case never went to trial. My lawyer negotiated a plea deal for me. Misdemeanor possession instead of a felony charge. He argued that the deputies had stopped me without probable cause. Which was true.

“It galled me to admit to doing something I hadn’t done, but they had the evidence, so I took the deal. I was resigned to spending at least a few months in county. But when it came time for sentencing, the judge called me, my attorney, and my uncle into his chambers. He offered me an alternative.”

“The army?”

“Good guess. The judge was a Vietnam veteran, very pro military, a hawk. He told my uncle that boot camp and a tough drill sergeant would have me whipped into shape in no time. It was quite a recruitment spiel, and Uncle Henry recognized the advantages. But he bargained for the charges to be dismissed.”

She sat back in her chair and shook her head with dismay. “You must have been so relieved.”

“Relieved, yeah, but I wasn’t let off the hook. Both my uncle and the judge put the fear of God in me. They warned me that if I didn’t apply myself, there would be hell to pay.”

Laughing quietly, she said, “I can’t believe it.”

“At the time, it was hard for me to take in, too. Everything happened fast. I was a couple of months shy of graduating high school, but passed all the exams and got my diploma. Next day, I was sent to basic training.”

“Applied yourself and returned twelve years later a hero.”

He shook his head and, speaking low, said, “Don’t mistake me for a hero.”

“People say you are.”

“Those who say that don’t know.”

Frowning with concentration, she said, “Well, I know one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re unlike anyone else I’ve ever met.”

He wanted to ask her in what way he was unique, but was afraid of how she would answer. He broke her thoughtful stare to glance down at his watch. “It’s late.” He stood up. “I’ll lead you home.”

“That’s unnecessary.”

“The road is tricky in full daylight. In the dark, if you don’t know it well, you could wind up in a bayou.”

“I’ll manage.”

“Argument over.” He went to the door and pulled it open.

A few minutes later, her headlights were in his rearview mirror. If she fell too far behind, he slowed down until she caught up. When they reached her house, he got out of his truck and, despite her protests, walked her to the back door.

“These new locks are impossible,” she said as she worked the key into the slot.

“They’re meant to be.”

“For a bad guy, not for me.” The lock snapped, she swung the door open and poked her head inside. “See? No intruder lying in wait.”

He gave the small of her back a nudge, then followed her in, went around her, and checked out the rooms on the first floor, switching lights on, then off, as he made his way.

They met at the bottom of the staircase. “You didn’t look up there.” She pointed to the dark landing above.

“An intruder would have had to come in on the ground floor. Nothing’s been disturbed.”

“As noted earlier, you’ve been my only intruder.” She gave him a brief smile, then lowered her gaze to the placket of his shirt. “Will you be coming to work in the morning?”

“Not to restore, but to destroy?”

Still addressing his shirt, she said, “I suppose I do owe you an explanation for the switch.”

“Your sister told you last night you didn’t owe me a damn thing.”

“Well, she’s wrong.”

“Okay. I’m listening.”

“I’ll do my best to explain, but even I’m conflicted.”

“Over what?”

“It’s hard to put into words.”

“I don’t know that many anyway. Make it simple.”

She tugged her lower lip through her teeth. “It sounds so banal, but I came back to Penton to get closure. This house represents sorrow and heartache to me. If it comes down—”

“It won’t fix a damn thing. I don’t mean to interrupt, but, look, the house is a house. It’s made of destructible materials. All the shit that took place in it when you were a kid will be with you for the rest of your life. It’s not inside the house, it’s inside you. Curse it, accept it, and then turn your back on it.”

“I can do that with the shit I know,” she said. “It’s what I don’t know that plagues me.”

All of a sudden he was wary of where this might be going. He backed away from her and leaned against the newel post. “What you ‘don’t know’?”

“I moved back here needing answers. But not only have they eluded me, the longer I’m here, the more questions I have, the more gaps I see that need filling.”

She folded in on herself as she sat down on the second step of the staircase. She didn’t say anything for a time, but rubbed her thumb across her other palm, studying the faint network of lines as though trying to gain insight from their intersections.

“I still feel like that ten-year-old girl caught up in a crisis. The grown-ups are speaking in euphemisms to shield me from harsh realities. I’ve been given the outline, but not the whole story. I feel that the parts I’m missing are the ones I should know.” She looked up at him and shook her head. “Never mind. I don’t expect you to understand.”

On the contrary, he understood perfectly, and his conscience was killing him over it. He was missing elements of that night himself, but those he had intimate knowledge of, he had intentionally kept from her. How much longer could he sustain that secrecy? Every day she was here upped the odds that she would discover the active role young Ledge Burnet had played in the course her life had taken.

Better to drive her away now, when she disliked and distrusted him only a little, and before Rusty got wind of her interest in the events of that night.

Salving his conscience by telling himself that his lying was for her own good, he lied again. “You’re right. I don’t understand. You came here to get closure. Didn’t work. You’re miserable. Why not call it quits and leave?”

“You sound like Lisa.”

“God help me, but she has a point. Have you asked her about those gaps that bother you?”

“Of course, but Dad’s disappearance affected us differently. It changed her life profoundly, yes. But she was grown, mentally and emotionally, already independent of him. Anytime I bring up my ambiguity, she tells me I should do as she did. Put it all behind me and move on.”

“I agree with that advice. It can’t be healthy, hanging around a place that pains you. Just go.”

“With nothing resolved?” She shook her head. “Relocating wouldn’t achieve anything. You said so yourself. The uncertainties that devil me aren’t within the house, they’re—”