'The fifteen?' Sam said, puzzled. 'You sure he didn't say the fifteenth?'
'No. He said when the fifteen was complete.'
'Did Jimmy say anything?'
'He never opened his mouth.'
'I've talked with rape victims before, Janey—those who have been threatened with rape, and those who were actually physically assaulted. But you seem—I don't know—especially bitter, but not afraid.'
'Yes. Well, there's a reason, Sam. I don't remember my mother. I was about two or three when she died. She'd gone horseback riding by herself. She liked to do that, so daddy told me. She was a superb rider. But that day she didn't come back. I was—oh, I guess fourteen or fifteen years old before daddy told me what really happened to her. He was drunk when he told me. Mother had been raped—horribly. Very badly used. Then she was mutilated almost beyond recognition, with knives. The police never caught those who did it.'
'Where did this happen, Janey?'
'About halfway between Tyson's Lake and the Dig site.'
'Tyson's Lake is the area that's all fenced off?'
'Yes. It's been fenced off for as long as I can remember. Caves and bottomless pits out there. It's to keep the kids out—for their own good.'
'I see,' Sam muttered. 'Yes. Mutilated with knives, you said?'
'Yes. They—whoever did it—cut patterns on her skin. Old Mr. Kramer—he used to be chief of police here— told me that it looked to him like some kind of ceremony. A rite of some sort.'
'Kramer? I don't know the name.'
'Oh, he's dead, Sam. He's been dead ten years, Yes, that's right. He died right after he told me that. I was seventeen, so that was ten years ago.'
'How did he die?'
'Well, that's a good question, Sam. He just disappeared one day. He was an old man. Some said he was getting senile, but I don't believe that.' She shrugged. 'His body was never found.'
'Just disappeared, huh? Where was he when he 'just disappeared?''
'Why, out by Tyson's Lake, I think. I know Mr. Kramer used to prowl around out there.'
'I see.' A small ray of light shining on a still tiny idea beginning to form in Sam's mind.
'Well, let's call the chief, Janey. Let's tell John what happened here last night. We'll let him handle it.'
'Incredible!' John Benton said, shaking his head in disgust. 'I've got to ask you this, Jane Ann, are you sure it was Best and Perkins?'
'Oh, yes. I had the back porch light on. I know them both very well.'
The Chief nodded. 'I just don't understand why Jimmy was with Best last night. It was his night off.'
John had her repeat the story several times; she did not waver in the telling. The Chief took careful notes in his neat handwriting. A retired highway patrol officer, John Benton was rated an excellent police officer, very thorough in his investigations.
'I had high hopes for Jimmy,' John said, putting his notepad in his hip pocket. 'He was shaping up to be a good officer—so I thought. I was going to recommend him for the Highwa Patrol.' He looked at Jane Ann. 'I'm sorry this had to happen to you, Jane Ann. I've known you since you were a baby. I was on duty the nigh your mother died. Helped investigate that tragedy. I also helped in the investigation of your father's disappearance.'
'Disappearance?' Sam cut in, looking at Jane Ann. 'I thought your father died?'
'He disappeared, Sam,' she said. 'Nine year ago. He's listed as dead, now.'
'Earl Burke was an alcoholic, Sam,' John said. 'In his later life, that is. He never touched the stuff until his wife was killed, then he went over the line in a big way. He used to get drunk and roam the area where the tragedy occurred.'
'The Tyson's Lake area?'
'That's correct. One night he went out there and never came back.'
'How'd he get out there?'
'In his pickup. We found the truck, but we never found Earl.'
'And the assumption is—'
'He climbed the fence surrounding the area and fell into one of the deep pits or caves out there. It's a very unsafe area, Sam. Caves, holes, a few lava pits that are very unstable. A hundred and fifty acres, all told. 'Bout sixty acres in timber. But—'
'You've seen these holes and caves and pits?' Sam interrupted.
'Well, no, Sam. But the area has been posted since my father was just a boy, back in the 1890s. No one goes in there except Karl Sorenson—he owns the land.'
'He is a disgusting man!' Jane Ann blurted.
Sam agreed with her, but asked, 'In what way, Janey?'
John smiled, waiting for Jane Ann to elaborate.
'He ridicules God and anyone who worships Him. Sorenson says if he ever decides to worship anything, it'll be Satan, because the devil is more 'practical.''
'Yes,' Sam said. 'I've heard that Sorenson says that.'
'There are probably a lot of other things people won't discuss around you, Sam,' John seemed ill at ease. 'He's a womanizer, Sam. He's some pretty raunchy parties out at his ranch. Not the kind of stuff you'd want to discuss in front of a lady. He's been known, from time to time, to import some—talent, if you want to use that word, out to his ranch. These people would perform, if you know what I mean.' Benton flushed. 'I don't feel right discussing this before you, Sam.'
Sam grinned. 'John, before I became a minister, I saw lots of things knocking around the country, including a lady with a donkey. Do I have to say more?'
Benton shook his head, a half-smile on his lips. 'I heard you were quite a rounder before you became a minister. Guess the talk was true.'
'What about a lady and a donkey?' Jane Ann asked.
'Never mind, Jane Ann,' Benton said sternly, fatherly. 'Point I was making, Sam, is this, rumor has it that some of those people never left this area. There's been some real horror stories come out of Sorenson's ranch.'
'Can't the authorities do anything?'
'No evidence, Sam. Nothing to prove anything out-of-the-way took place. Besides, Karl is a very wealthy man, with connections at the State House, if you know what I mean.'
'Money talks?'
'And swears, sometimes.'
'Interesting,' Sam said softly. He did not elaborate, and John did not pick up on his softly spoken innuendo. Jane Ann looked at her minister, as if attempting to read his thoughts.
'I'll put Best and Perkins on suspension until this is all proven or cleared up. You will press charges, Jane Ann?'
'Oh, boy, will I!'
The chief walked to the door. 'I've got some plaster in my car. I want to make some impressions of some prints out back. I'll get back to you both.'
Benton had taken his impressions in the earth, thanked Sam and Jane Ann, and left, saying he was going to get to the bottom of this. He was going after Best and Perkins right now.
Sam glanced at his watch, shocked to discover it was only eight-thirty.
'You look tired, Sam.'
'Somewhere between tired and confused. I don't believe I've had a restful night's sleep in several weeks.'
'Michelle?'
'She's part of it, I suppose.' He looked at Jane Ann, sitting across the small living room from him, one leg tucked under the other. It looked like an awfully uncomfortable way to sit. Sam started to tell her of his dreams,
