think?”
Myron found himself almost nodding.
“There is no physical evidence — none at all — that Aimee was abducted. And think about it. Why would someone kidnap her anyway? What would be the motive in a case like this? The normal motives are, what, sexual assault, for one. We know that didn’t happen. Her doctor told us that much. There was no physical or sexual trauma. Why else are people kidnapped? For ransom. Well, we know that didn’t happen either.”
Myron kept very still. It was almost exactly what Erik had said. If you wanted to keep Aimee quiet, you didn’t kidnap her. You killed her. But now she was alive. Ergo…
Loren Muse kept pounding at him. “Do you have a motive for a kidnapping, Myron?”
“No,” he said. “But what about the ATM machine? How do you figure that in?”
“You mean both girls using the same one?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe it was a coincidence after all.”
“Come on, Muse.”
“Okay, fine, then let’s turn it around.” She pointed at him. “How does that ATM transaction fit into a kidnapping scenario? Would Wolf know about it? Davis, Van Dyne?”
Myron saw her point. “But there are other things too,” he countered. “Like that phone call from a pay phone in the subway. Or the fact that she was online.”
“All of which fit into her being a runaway,” Loren said. “If someone did abduct her like she claims, why would they risk a call from a pay phone? Why would you put her on the Internet?”
Myron shook his head. He knew that she was making sense. He just refused to accept it. “So that’s how this ends? It’s not Davis. It’s not Wolf or Van Dyne or anyone. Aimee Biel just ran away?”
Loren Muse and Lance Banner exchanged another glance.
Then Lance Banner said, “Yes, that’s the working theory. And remember: There’s no law against what she did. In the end a lot of people got hurt or even killed. But running away is not against the law.”
Loren Muse kept quiet again. Myron didn’t like it. “What?” he snapped at her.
“Nothing. What Banner said — the evidence all points that way. It might even explain why Aimee’s parents don’t want us talking to her. They don’t want all that coming out — her affair, her pregnancy, heck, like it or not, she was helped in the cheating scandal too. So keeping it all quiet. Making her look like a victim instead of a runaway. It’s the right move.”
“But?”
She looked at Banner. He sighed and shook his head. Loren Muse started fiddling with her fork. “But both Jake and Lorraine Wolf wanted to take the blame for shooting Drew Van Dyne.”
“So?”
“You don’t find that odd?”
“No. We just explained why. Lorraine killed him. Jake wants to take the fall to protect her.”
“And the fact that they were cleaning up the evidence and moving the body?”
Myron shrugged. “That would be the natural reaction.”
“Even if you killed in self-defense?”
“In their case, yes. They were trying to protect it all. If Van Dyne is found dead in their house, even if they shot him in self-defense, all the stuff about Randy would come out. The drugs, the cheating, all of it.”
She nodded. “That’s the theory. That’s what Lance here believes. And that’s probably what happened.”
Myron tried not to sound too impatient. “But?”
“But maybe that’s not how it happened. Maybe Jake and Lorraine came home and found the body there.”
Myron stopped breathing. There is something inside of you. It can bend. It can stretch. But then, every once in a while, you can feel it pulling too far. If you let it go there, you will break inside. You will snap in two. You know that. Myron had known Aimee his whole life. And right now, if he was right about where Loren Muse was going, he was close to breaking. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Maybe the Wolfs came home and saw a body. And maybe they assumed that Randy had done it.” She leaned closer. “Van Dyne was Randy’s drug supplier. He had also stolen Randy’s girlfriend. So maybe Mom and Dad saw the body and figured that Randy shot him. Maybe they panicked and loaded the body in his car.”
“What, you think Randy killed Drew Van Dyne?”
“No. I said that’s what
“So what’s your point?”
“If Aimee Biel hadn’t been kidnapped,” Muse said, “if she ran away and stayed with Drew Van Dyne, maybe she was with him in the house. And maybe, just maybe, Aimee, our scared little girl, really did want to put it all behind her. Maybe she was ready for college, ready to move on and cut off all ties, except this guy, this Drew Van Dyne, wouldn’t let go….”
Myron closed his eyes. That little thing inside of him — it was being pulled hard. He stopped it, shook his head. “You’re wrong.”
She shrugged. “Probably.”
“I’ve known this girl all my life.”
“I know, Myron. She’s a young, sweet girl, right? Young sweet girls can’t be killers, can they?”
He thought about Aimee Biel, the way she laughed at him in his basement, the way she climbed up the jungle gym when she was three. He remembered her blowing out candles at her birthday party. He remembered watching her in a school play when she was in eighth grade. He remembered it all and he felt the anger starting to mount.
“You’re wrong,” Myron said again.
He waited on the sidewalk across the street from their house.
Erik came out first. His face was tight, grim. Aimee and Claire followed. Myron stood there and watched. Aimee spotted him first. She smiled at him and waved. Myron studied that smile. It looked the same to him. The same smile he’d seen on the playground when she was three. The same one he’d seen in the basement a few weeks ago.
There was nothing different.
Except now the smile gave him a chill.
He looked at Erik and then at Claire. Their eyes were hard, protective, but there was something else there, something beyond exhaustion and surrender, something primitive and instinctive. Erik and Claire walked with their daughter. But they did not touch her. That was what Myron noticed. They were not touching their own daughter.
“Hi, Myron!” Aimee shouted.
“Hi.”
Aimee ran across the street. Her parents did not move. Neither did Myron. Aimee threw her arms around him, almost knocking him over. Myron tried to hug her back. But he couldn’t quite do it. Aimee gripped him harder.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He didn’t say anything. Her embrace, it felt the same. It felt warm and strong. No different than before.
And yet he wanted it to end.
Myron felt his heart drop and shatter. God help him, he just wanted her to let go, to get her away from him. He wanted this girl he’d loved for so long to be gone. He took hold of her shoulders and gently pushed her off.
Claire was behind her now. She said to Myron, “We’re in a rush. We’ll get together soon.”
He nodded. The two women walked away. Erik waited by the car. Myron watched them. Claire was next to her daughter, but she still wouldn’t touch her. Aimee got in the car. Erik and Claire glanced at each other. They did not speak. Aimee was in the back. They both sat in the front. Natural enough, Myron supposed, but it still seemed to him as if they were trying to keep their distance from Aimee, as if they wondered — or perhaps knew — about the stranger who now lived with them. Claire looked back at him.
Myron watched the car pull away. As it disappeared down the street, he realized something:
