with two big dogs from Alice and her sinking cantaloupes.”
He laughed and told her he’d see her soon.
Maybe by the end of the night, he wouldn’t be thinking so much about small boys who kept treasures under houses.
Ralph Kendall was undoubtedly pacing in the room next them, Frank thought. He had willingly brought Jordan with him to the LPPD Headquarters, and Frank was glad that he had not yet had to place Jordan under arrest-the rules changed with custody. But the Kendalls had come here voluntarily. He separated them, telling Kendall that for legal reasons, they needed to talk to witnesses separately. That much was true. He was under no legal obligation to be truthful when questioning witnesses. At eighteen, Jordan Toller could be questioned out of the presence of his father.
“Jordan, we know you were inside the Toller house,” Frank began.
Jordan stared at his folded hands and said nothing.
“And Lex was found not far from your family’s cabin. He’s told us you brought him there.” A lie, but it didn’t seem to concern Jordan.
“We record all 9-1-1 calls,” Frank said, and for the first time, saw that he had Jordan’s attention. “Your girlfriend-” Frank consulted his notes. “Monica? Her voice is on the tape, giving directions to find Lex that were a little mixed up. That could have led to his death, of course, but we were lucky. We found him anyway.”
He watched the young man shift in his seat.
“We have witnesses that saw her make the call, so she’s good for an accessory to kidnapping charge, and we can probably make her an accessory to Toller’s murder while we’re at it.”
He turned pale.
“Didn’t think about that when you involved her, did you?”
“She had no idea what I was asking her to call about,” he said.
“She can tell that to the jury, of course. Maybe they’ll believe her when she says that if someone asks her to call the police and tell them where to find a little boy in the woods, she thinks nothing of it.”
He put his head in his hands. “Don’t do anything to Monica. I’m the one you want. For everything. I killed Toller. I took Lex to the mountains. All of it.” He looked up at Frank in defiance, and said, “And I’m proud of it! I’d do it again.”
Frank waited, then said, “Tell me what happened.”
“You see those cuts on Lex’s face and hand? You know how he got them? His old man smashed a photograph of Lex and his Aunt Sarah into his face. That big man, smashing glass into that little kid’s face! Lex put a hand up to defend himself, but that just meant his hand got cut, too.”
“Had Toller ever hit his son before?”
Jordan looked away. “I don’t know. I think he did, but Lexie would never tell me. One time I told him I’d beat the crap out of his dad if his dad ever hurt him, and he said I’d better not, because his dad would shoot me. Even if he didn’t beat him, he hurt him in other ways. His dad picked on him, he always said mean things to him. Didn’t even feed him. Toller was a drunken son of a bitch who could go on a binge and forget he had a kid. Lex ate more food from our kitchen than he did from that one over there. You see his room? His dad wouldn’t let him have toys.”
“I saw his hiding place. There were toys there.”
Jordan shook his head. “I gave those to him. I felt sorry for him. So did my mom. We gave him Gabe’s hand- me-downs so he’d have something to wear. He’s so small, Gabe’s clothes from kindergarten fit him when he’s in third grade.”
“So your parents thought he was abused, too?”
“They called a social worker on him once. She made Toller clean up the house, and after about three months, that was that. Everything went back to the way it was. My parents said Lex would have been taken away if anything really bad had been going on. Shows what they know. That was before Sarah found Lex.” He looked pleadingly at Frank. “They’ll let her take him won’t they? They won’t put him in a home, or anything like that, will they?”
“She’ll probably be able to keep him.”
He sighed. “Then it’s worth it.” But Frank thought he looked scared.
“Did Lex call you to come over after he was hurt?”
Jordan nodded. “Not call, really. Just after Lex went in from the baseball game, his aunt came over. We knew his dad was pissed off at Sarah. We all heard them arguing. Heard him yelling that Lex would never live with her as long as he had anything to say about it. When he was in a mood like that, Mr. Toller was a real asshole. Lex almost always hides under the house when his dad is drunk and awake. So, I was kind of watching out for a signal. Sure enough, he sent one. You saw the mirror?”
“And the Morse code.”
“Yeah, well, he knew I’d be watching for word from him. So, when I got over there, and Lex crawled out, he was scared-and he’d been hurt. He was cut and bleeding. It pissed me off. So I went in the house, and told Toller he was a big old asshole and to quit picking on Lex. We fought.”
“Where?”
“In the living room. Near the door. He went for this gun of his that he keeps by the door, and I grabbed the poker and whacked him with it as hard as I could. I-I kept hitting him.” He swallowed hard. “I guess I went a little crazy. But once I knew he was dead, I cleaned up Lex and got him out of there.”
“He was willing to go with you after seeing you kill his father?”
“He was still outside. I made sure he didn’t even see his dad. I took him over to my truck and told him to wait in it. I went into my house and took some winter clothes Gabe hardly ever wore, and a teddy bear he never played with, and gave them to Lex. I brought him up to the cabin. I stayed with him overnight, and early this morning, I set him up where I thought he’d be easy to find. Then I came home. If you hadn’t found him soon, I was going to go back up there to make sure he was okay.”
Frank thought this through, then had Jordan go over it again several times.
Pete knocked, stuck his head in the door. “Frank, can I borrow you for a minute?”
When Frank stepped out and closed the door, Pete said, “Look, I’ve been listening in the other room, and so has the lieutenant. Congratulations on the confession, but hasn’t your day been long enough? You’ve got more than enough to hold him.”
“Something’s not right. He’s in an argument with Toller, Toller is within reach of a gun, and this kid manages to cross a trash-filled room and reach a fireplace poker, grab it, cross the room again and bash Toller’s head in before Toller notices any of this, or turns around?”
“Kid was young and fast.”
“Pete-”
“Ah, all right. So Toller wasn’t going for the gun.”
“You saw where the body was.”
Pete sighed. “Well, somebody hit him with that poker before he got to the door, that’s for damned sure.”
“I wonder. Call the coroner’s office and see if we can get somebody to take a look at Toller tonight. I want to make sure the poker is the weapon.”
“Want to make sure-you saw the hair and blood!”
“If you call right away, we might be able to get a preliminary tonight.”
“Miracles. He wants miracles,” Pete said, but went to make the call.
While he waited for the coroner’s report, he asked Jordan more questions, ones that seemed to make him more uneasy than recounting the details of the actual murder.
“Where are the clothes you were wearing when you killed him?”
He hesitated, then said, “I threw them away.”
“Where?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Your house? The cabin?”
“I don’t remember.”
