Jonathan Kellerman - Evidence

“No, U of W,” she said. “Geographically not far, but I was into my own life.”

“The arson file names Van as one of Desi’s hiking companions.”

“Then I guess he was.”

“Did your family discuss the fire?”

“We probably talked about it, it was a big local story. But as I said, I wasn’t living at home.”

Ricki Flatt folded her lips inward, fighting tears. Milo placed a hand atop hers. She lost the battle and burst out sobbing.

Rather than hand a tissue to her, he dabbed.

Ricki Flatt said, “Now I’m a traitor.”

“To who, Ricki?”

“My family. I just lied, we didn’t talk about the fire. It wasn’t supposed to be talked about. Ever.”

“You parents said that?”

“Unspoken rule, Lieutenant. Something I just knew not to talk about. That wasn’t my parents’ usual way. That’s why I’ve always suspected Desi was involved.”

“Those kinds of secrets,” said Milo, “every family has them. But being honest doesn’t make you a traitor. Not now, that’s for sure.”

Silence.

“You want justice for Desi, Ricki. Would your parents have had a problem with that?”

No answer.

“Would they, Ricki?”

Slow head shake.

“Tell me what you know.”

“I don’t know anything,” she said, “I just feel it. Always have.”

“Apart from your parents clamming up, what gave you the feeling?”

“For a start, Desi’s books. He had these counterculture books in his room. How to build homemade weapons, how to disappear and hide your identity, techniques of revenge, The Anarchist Cookbook . A whole shelf of that, above his computer.”

“Your parents were okay with that.”

“What I told you was true. Mom and Dad were all about developing our own sense of morality. Though one time I did hear Dad make a comment, being a firefighter he still had that law-and-order thing going on. I overheard him telling Desi those books would’ve been branded as treasonous in other societies and Desi answering that those societies deserved to disappear because without free speech nothing mattered. And Dad coming back that free speech was important but it ended where someone’s chin met someone’s fist. And Desi ending the argument the way he usually did. By being charming. ‘You’re absolutely right, Pops.’ Dad laughed and it never came up again. That was my brother, all honey, no vinegar. Unlike me, he never wasted energy arguing with Mom and Dad. He was the easy kid.”

“No overt rebel,” said Milo. “So he got to hold on to his treasonous books.”

“And his foldouts from Hustler , no matter how gynecologic and how much Mom considered herself a feminist. And his Che poster and whatever else he wanted. I’m sure Mom and Dad never imagined him doing anything more with those books than reading.”

“Until the fire.”

“The weekend after the fire, I was home for the weekend. Getting my laundry done, Ms. Independence. Mom and Dad were at work but Desi was home so I knocked on his door. He took a really long time to unlock, didn’t seem thrilled to see me, wasn’t the least bit warm. Which was odd, generally we’d share a big hug. But this time he looked flustered, like I’d interrupted something. My first thought was something adolescent-you know what I mean.”

“Those Hustler foldouts.”

“He was seventeen.” Blushing. “Then I saw that his room had been completely rearranged, even the bed was in a new place. Desi was always neat but now it looked downright compulsive. A lot less stuff in the room. Including the books. All gone, and in place of the Che poster he’d hung a photo of moose in the forest. I made some wisecrack about redecorating, had he turned gay or something. Instead of laughing like he normally would’ve, he just stood there. Then he edged me away from the door. Not by touching me, by inching forward, so I was forced to leave or bump into him. Then he closed the door behind him and we both went to the kitchen and he was the same old Desi, smiling and funny.”

I said, “Focusing on you instead of his room.”

“Desi was great at that. He could make you feel you were the center of the universe. Then he’d ask for something and you just said yes, no hesitation.”

“Did you ever bring up the fire?”

“Not with Desi, just with Mom. She got a strange look in her eye, changed the subject. That whole weekend was strange.”

“All three of them nervous.”

“I felt like a stranger. But in the beginning, I didn’t connect it to the fire. It was only after I found out that Desi and some of his friends were questioned by the police that things started to click.”

Milo said, “Were you ever questioned?”

“No, and I wouldn’t have said anything. I had nothing to offer, anyway.” She wadded a tissue, released her fingers and watched it open like a time-lapse flower.

I said, “Did Desi keep anything suspicious in his room besides books?”

“If he did, I wouldn’t know. He had a lock on his door and used it.”

“Liked his privacy.”

“Sure, but what teenager doesn’t? I figured it was because of all those girls he took in there. Was Doreen one of them? Probably, but only one, he might as well have had a revolving door. And, no, my parents never objected. Desi would play music to block out the sound but sometimes you could hear the bed knocking against the wall. Mom and Dad just continued to read or watch TV, pretended not to hear.”

“So your parents were used to looking the other way.”

“You’re saying that made it easier for them to cover for Desi when he did something really bad?” Long exhalation. “Maybe.”

Milo said, “After the FBI questioned Desi, you started to wonder.”

“The FBI? All I heard about was the police. The FBI actually came to the house?”

“They did, Ricki. Talked to your parents, as well as Desi.”

“Unbelievable… only reason I found out the police were involved was by reading the Daily -the U of W paper. Something to the effect that no progress had been made but local kids were being questioned and Desi’s name was mentioned. Did I say anything? No.”

Milo said, “What do you know about Desi’s ten years on the road?”

“Just what I told you yesterday.”

“Doing the hippie thing.”

“Retro-hippie,” said Ricki Flatt. “Original hippie was my parents’ generation. Then all of a sudden, he shaves his beard, cuts his hair, buys nice clothes, enrolls in architecture school. I remember thinking, so now he wants to build, not destroy.”

“The fire stayed on your mind.”

“I’m not moral enough to be haunted by it, but every so often, it would creep into my mind. Because that boy had died and the police had suspected my brother enough to question him and my parents had acted so weird.”

“Do you have any idea how Desi reconnected to Doreen?”

“None whatsoever.”

“He never mentioned her.”

“He never brought up any woman, Lieutenant. I just assumed he was being himself.”

“Meaning?”

“Playing the field and keeping it casual.”

“Did he mention any women from his years on the road?”

“Not a one. The fifty thousand, you’re pretty convinced he was into something seriously illegal?”

“That’s a lot of cash, Ricki.” She grew silent.

Milo said, “A couple of other kids in Desi’s hiking group were also questioned after the fire: Dwayne Parris and Kathy Vanderveldt. Anything you remember about them?”

“I wouldn’t know them if you showed me a picture. I was three years older. To me they were all a bunch of stupid kids.”

“You mentioned before that Desi was into health. Did he ever mention vegan Jell-O?”