Harlan Coben - Caught

"My God, Phil. What did you do?"

"Those guys are right. I'm done. Whatever else was left of me- whatever good was there-it's gone now too. That's what revenge does to you. It eats away at your soul. I should have never opened that door."

Wendy didn't know what door he meant anymore-the one to the dean's house all those years ago or the one to the hatred that made him seek revenge. Wendy remembered what Christa Stockwell had said about hatred, how holding on to it makes you let go of everything else.

But they still weren't done. There was still the matter of Haley McWaid.

"So when Dan got off," Wendy began, "I mean, when the judge let him go…"

The smile on his face chilled her. "Go on, Wendy."

But she couldn't. She tried to follow it, but suddenly none of it made sense.

"You're wondering about Haley McWaid, aren't you? You're wondering how she fits in."

Wendy couldn't speak.

"Go on, Wendy. Say what you were going to say."

But she saw it now. It made no sense.

His expression was calmer now, almost serene. "I hurt them, yes. Did I break the law? I'm not even sure. I hired a girl to lie about Farley and play a part with Dan. Is that a crime? A misdemeanor maybe. I pretended I was someone else in a chat room-but isn't that what you do? You said that the judge let Dan go. That's true, but so what? I wasn't necessarily trying to send them to jail. I just wanted them to suffer. And they did, didn't they?"

He waited for an answer. Wendy managed a nod.

"So why then would I set him up for murder?"

"I don't know," she managed.

Phil leaned forward and whispered, "I didn't."

Wendy couldn't breathe. She tried to slow it down, think it through, take a step back somehow. Haley McWaid had been murdered three months before she was found. Why? Did Wendy think, what, that Phil had killed her just in case Dan got off so Phil could pin it on him?

Did that make sense?

"Wendy, I'm a father. I couldn't kill a teenage girl. I couldn't kill anyone."

It was, she realized, a huge leap between viral trashing and murder, between getting back at some old classmates and killing a teenage girl.

The truth started to sink in, numbing her.

"You couldn't have planted the iPhone in his room," Wendy said slowly. "You didn't know where he was." Her head wouldn't stop spinning. She tried to focus, tried to make sense of this, but the answer was now so obvious. "It couldn't have been you."

"That's right, Wendy." He smiled, and the look of peace returned to his face. "That's why I'm here. Remember? I told you that I came here for you, not me. That's my final gift to you."

"What gift? I don't understand. How did that iPhone get in Dan's room?"

"You know the answer, Wendy. You're worried you ruined an innocent man. But you didn't. There's only one explanation why that phone was in his hotel room: Dan had it the whole time."

She just looked at him. "Dan killed Haley?"

"Of course," he said.

She couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

"And now you know everything, Wendy. You're free. I'm sorry for it all. I don't know whether it makes up for what I did to you, but it will have to do. Like I said in the beginning, that's why I came here-to help you."

Phil Turnball lifted his gun then. He closed his eyes and looked almost peaceful. "Tell Sherry I'm sorry," he said. Wendy raised her hands, shouted at him to stop, started toward him.

But she was too far away.

He placed the muzzle under his chin, aimed up, and pulled the trigger.

FIVE DAYS LATER

THE POLICE CLEANED UP the mess.

Both Walker and Tremont came by to check up on her and hear the story. She tried to be as detailed as possible. The media, too, took a pretty big interest. Farley Parks released a statement condemning those who had "rushed to judgment" but did not reenter the race. Dr. Steve Miciano refused any interviews and announced that he was stepping down from practicing medicine to "pursue other interests."

Phil Turnball had been right about them.

Life returned to quasi-normal in quick order. Wendy was cleared by NTC of any sort of sexual misconduct, but work had become an impossible place. Vic Garrett couldn't look her in the eye. He gave all his assignments to her via his personal assistant, Mavis. So far, the assignments had been crap. If that didn't change, she would take a more aggressive stand.

But not quite yet.

Pops announced that he would be hitting the road by the weekend. He had stayed on to make sure Wendy and Charlie were okay, but as Pops noted, he was "a ramblin' man, a rolling stone." Staying in one place didn't suit him. Wendy understood, but God, she'd miss him.

Amazingly, while her workplace had accepted that the rumors online about her were not true, many of her fellow Kasseltonians did not. She was ignored in the supermarket. The mothers kept away from her during school pickup. On day five, two hours before Wendy was to head out to her PR committee meeting for Project Graduation, Millie Hanover called: "For the sake of the children, I suggest you step down from serving on any committee."

"For the sake of the children," Wendy replied, "I suggest you suck eggs."

She slammed the phone down. From behind her she heard clapping. It was Charlie. "All right, Mom."

"That woman is so narrow-minded."

Charlie laughed. "Remember I told you how I wanted to skip health class because it promotes promiscuity?"

"Yes."

"Cassie Hanover gets excused because her mother's afraid it might corrupt her morals. Funny thing is, her nickname is 'Hand Job' Hanover. I mean, the girl's a total slut."

Wendy turned and watched her lanky son approach the computer. He sat down and started typing, keeping his eyes on the screen.

"Speaking of total sluts," Wendy began.

He looked up at her. "Huh?"

"There are some rumors going around about me. They were put in blogs online."

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think I live in a cave?"

"You've seen them?"

"Of course."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Charlie shrugged, went back to typing.

"I want you to know they aren't true."

"You mean you don't sleep around to get ahead?"

"Don't be a wiseass."

He sighed. "I know it's not true, Mom. Okay? You don't have to tell me that."

She was trying very hard not to cry. "Are your friends giving you a hard time about it?"

"No," he said. Then: "Well, okay, Clark and James want to know if you dig younger men."

She frowned.

"Kidding," he said.

"Good one."

"Lighten up." He started typing.

She started to head out of the room, give him his privacy. If she had done that, it would all have been over now. They had the answers. Phil set up his friends. Dan had snapped and killed Haley. The fact that they couldn't find a motive was irksome but life works that way sometimes.

But she didn't leave the room. She was feeling teary and alone and so she asked her son, "What are you doing?"

"Going through my Facebook."

That reminded her of her fake profile, the Sharon Hait one, the one she'd used to "friend" Kirby Sennett.

"What's a Red Bull party?" she asked.

Charlie stopped typing. "Where did you hear that term?"

Wendy reminded him of how she'd used the fake profile to get in touch with Kirby Sennett. "Kirby invited 'Sharon' to a Red Bull party."

"Show me," he said.

Charlie logged out and stepped away from the computer. Wendy sat down, signed in as "Sharon Hait." It took her a second to remember the password ("Charlie") before she got in. She brought up the invitation and showed it to him.

"Lame," Charlie said.

"What?"

"Okay, you know how the school has these strict zero-tolerance rules, right?"

"Right."