“I can’t tell you, Jess. I promised her. Kathy said it’s the spot where she was left for dead. She wants to show me where it happened.”
More silence.
Paul Duncan said, “Dear God.”
Carol practically fainted into his arms.
“Where has she been?” Jessica asked.
“I only know bits and pieces from my investigation. She spent most of the time recovering from her injuries. She also spent some time in the Caribbean. An island called Curacao. I picked up her trail from an entry that night in St. Mary Hospital’s registry. On the night she vanished, a patient was found unconscious in the middle of a road. She gave her name as Katherine Pierce.”
Carol gasped. “Pierce? That’s my maiden name.”
Myron nodded. “I don’t know all the details yet. She was hit over the head. The blow cracked her skull. The assailant thought she was dead. But she wasn’t. He buried her in the woods. She woke up and managed to dig herself out. It’s a miracle she survived.”
Jessica’s eyes filled with tears. “She’s alive?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Jessica hugged her mother then. Edward joined in. Christian and Paul watched dumbfounded. Myron turned toward the door. Win was standing there. His nod was almost imperceptible.
Chapter 48
Myron parked his car on the dirt road. He was alone. The car’s clock read 8:30 P.M. He grabbed his flashlight and headed toward the meeting spot.
The brush was thick. Several branches whipped across his face. He listened for other sounds. Crickets hummed away. Nothing else. The flashlight sliced through the heavy darkness, carving a path for him to follow. Myron heard his feet crunch on twigs and leaves. His mouth felt bone-dry. It always felt that way at moments like this.
He was getting close now, no more than twenty or thirty yards away.
“Kathy?” he called out.
No answer.
“It’s Myron, Kathy. I’m alone.”
No reply. But then Myron heard a shuffling from in front of him. Something came into view. A head. A head of long blond hair.
“It’s okay,” Myron said gently. “I’m here alone.”
She stepped toward him tentatively. Her right hand shaded her eyes from the flashlight’s harsh glare. Myron pointed the beam away. “It’s all right,” he said.
She continued to move toward him, a dim silhouette. Her steps were slow, plodding, like a B-movie monster come to life.
“It’s okay,” Myron said again. “No one is going to hurt you.”
“I wish that were true.”
The voice had not come from her. It had come from behind him. Myron closed his eyes. His shoulders slumped. “Hello, Christian.”
“Don’t move, Mr. Bolitar. Put your hands up.”
“Why bother?”
“What?”
“You’re going to kill us. Just like you tried to kill Kathy. Just like you killed her father and Nancy.”
“I never meant to hurt anybody,” he said.
“But you did.”
Christian cocked the gun. “Hands up. Now.”
Myron raised his hands slowly. “Kathy opened up to you that night. She told you everything-every sordid detail of her past. She wanted to clean the slate.”
“She lied to me!” Christian shouted. “All the time we were together-it was all a lie.”
“So you tried to kill her.”
“Kathy wanted me to still love her, Mr. Bolitar. But don’t you see? I never loved her. I loved a lie. She wanted me to stand beside that lie while she told her story to the world. She wanted me to sell out my teammates, toss away a chance at a national championship and Heisman trophy-all for the sake of a lying whore.”
“A lying whore,” Myron said, “like your mother.”
He nodded. “Mr. Bolitar, tell her. Tell her what that game meant. In terms of money, fame, pride. You understand, Mr. Bolitar. It helped get me that contract.”
“So you hit her over the head.”
“I didn’t mean to. It just happened. I thought she was dead. I couldn’t find a pulse.”
“So you drove her out here and buried the body. You hoped she’d never be found, but if she were, it’d be blamed on a serial killer.”
Christian stepped closer. He raised the gun. “Enough talk,” he said. “I’m not going to let you stall around until someone shows up.”
“No need. Someone’s been here all the time.”
Win came out from behind a tree, no more than a yard away from Christian. He pressed the.44 against Christian’s ear and said, “Drop it, or your brain becomes squirrel lunch.”
Christian dropped the gun.
“It’s over,” Myron shouted.
From a farther distance two uniformed police arrived. They handcuffed Christian.
Jake Courter stumbled behind them, high-stepping through the long grass. “Too old for this shit,” he mumbled. When he reached the clearing he said, “Nice setup, Bolitar.”
“Lots of details. The secret to a good scam.”
“Gonna tell me what’s going on now?”
“Sure. Jess?”
Jessica took off the blond wig and stepped forward.
Christian’s mouth dropped open. “What the-”
“You killed Kathy,” Myron said, “but not from the blow to the head. She suffocated trying to claw her way out of the dirt.”
Jake looked confused. “Where’s the body?”
“In the morgue. Where it’s been since the police found it two months ago. Sally Li confirmed the identity last night.”
“So why hadn’t it been identified before?”
“Because the county medical examiner was Kathy’s father. He knew who it was right away, but he pretended otherwise.”
“Why?”
“Think about it a second, Jake. From Adam Culver’s perspective. Your case had gone nowhere in eighteen months. Adam knew that. He also knew the body provided no new clues. So he figured that the only way to catch Kathy’s killer was to draw him out. How? By making the killer think Kathy might still be alive. After all, she’d been alive when he dumped her in the woods. So Adam kept the corpse’s identity a secret from everyone-the police, his friends, even his own family. He also figured that the nude photographs were tied into all this. So he used them.”
“You mean he put that ad in the magazine?”
Myron nodded. “Adam Culver arranged everything. Even the mysterious phone calls saying ‘Come and get me. I survived.’ He did everything he could to make it look like Kathy was alive.”
