“Phil Kearns, your classmate, is at the hospital?” asked Howie.
“Yeah. I want one of us to be there when Bette first wakes up. I could call Verbena.”
“Let’s give her a night off,” said Howie, which was Cooper’s way of thinking, too. “Okay, I’ll be there in about twenty.”
Cooper walked back to where Phil was seated, staring at the floor. Before Cooper could alert him that Howie was on his way to the hospital, Phil said, “I should tell my kids. They should be here in case . . . in case . . .” He buried his head in his hands.
While he was waiting for Howie, Cooper called Jamie back. “Just wanted to let you know I got your message, and yes, I’m on the Kearns case.”
“Is Bette all right?” Jamie asked anxiously.
“She’s in surgery. That’s all I know.”
“She was attacked . . . ?” She asked the question as if she really didn’t want to know the answer.
“That’s what I understand.”
“I know you can’t talk about it. I’m just worried. Bette’s an acquaintance, but one of the few people I know. I’m just . . . stunned . . . and worried.”
“In your message you said you had some information for me?”
Jamie exhaled a long breath. “Oh. Well. It’s on something else. My daughter wanted me to swear not to tell, but I’m going to. Probably a bad idea for our relationship, but I think you need to know. . . .” She then related that a friend of Marissa’s appeared to be burglarizing the houses of people whom she’d babysat for and possibly sleeping with Tyler Stapleton behind his girlfriend’s back and also making Tyler an accomplice to her crimes. When Jamie mentioned stealing liquor, Cooper went right to the Tito’s vodka bottle. If there were fingerprints on the smooth glass surface, maybe there would be a match.
He said, “I know of a theft of liquor, but the people who live in the house don’t have any children.”
“Harley said this girl, Katie, also babysat a dog.”
Cooper had an immediate vision of Marissa’s friend, Katie Timbolt, whose mother, Cathy, was running for school board and whose senior daughter was on the short list for valedictorian. The political blowback on this would be big, if it were true. “How’d Harley get this information?” he asked.
“A friend . . .”
“Not Marissa.”
“No. Harley says Marissa doesn’t know.” She paused for a moment, then added, “She also said Dara Volker told her she was with Tyler last Saturday, which, according to Harley, wasn’t the truth.”
“Dara’s protecting him? Maybe doesn’t know about Katie?”
“Maybe . . . But also, um, Vicky made a point of saying her son was home with the family that night.”
Cooper had also heard Vicky spell that out multiple times, leaving Greer Douglas and Troy Stillwell to face the music. “Does . . . Harley’s source . . . have any feeling that Tyler was the intruder who came after Marissa?”
“I don’t think so. What I’m hearing . . . what she’s saying by not saying it . . . is that the boys have been covering for Tyler for this other thing. Not the attack on Marissa. That’s separate, and they’re adamant they were never involved with that.”
That was how Howie had described Greer and Troy in the interviews he’d had with them: adamant that they weren’t involved in the Ryerson home invasion targeting Marissa. He would bet Harley’s mystery caller was one of the boys involved, either Greer or Troy, which also meant other kids were likely to know about Tyler’s extracurricular activities. Maybe Dara Volker herself. He doubted Vicky and her tribe would cover for Tyler if they knew what he may have been up to.
May, might, maybe . . .
He needed to learn the truth about Tyler Stapleton. And he also needed to know if it had any bearing on the attack on Marissa.
“I’m on my way to the Volkers’ now,” said Cooper, which caused Jamie to sweep in a sharp breath.
“You’re going to ask Dara straight up?”
“Nothing like that. I’m going there for a separate reason. The Bette Kearns case.”
“Oh,” she said. “Of course. I don’t understand what happened there. It’s all terrible, but she’s going to be okay.”
She didn’t seem to be looking for a response and he couldn’t give her one anyway. “I still want to take you to dinner . . . in fact . . .” He trailed off, realizing he was getting way ahead of himself.
“What?”
“Never mind, I’ll—”
“No, what?” she insisted. “You were going to say something.”
“I was going to say I’m planning on going to Bend to interview William Ryerson. I was going to call him, but a face-to-face is better, and after all this time, I want everything he’ll give me. That’s easier in person; he won’t be able to just get off the phone. I’m thinking about heading out tomorrow for the day.”
“And . . . ?”
“And . . .” He trailed off again.
“And you want me to go with you?” Jamie finished for him.
She was way too perceptive. He thought of a lot of things he could say. Some kind of long-winded explanation. In the end, he said simply, “Yes.”
“I’d love to. What time?”
“I’ve got to make sure I can do it,” he said, thinking of Bette Kearns, and also that he’d not contacted Ryerson to find out whether he was available. A lot of ifs.
“When will you know?”
“Tonight. Later. I’ll call you as soon as I do.”
“Okay,” she said
“Okay,” he said back.
Bette Kearns was quicker than I’d thought she’d be. Smarter. I am ashamed of myself because I couldn’t finish what I started. I had to hurry out of there. But I thought she’d die by now anyway. These women . . . these women who lie and cheat and feel no compunction!
Bette is the worst of them . . . No. Not the worst.
