Сандра Браун - Thick as Thieves

Arden rounded the chair and sat down. “Did you make up the part about Foster’s phone call, catching Dad with the money bag?”

“No,” she exclaimed. “My encounter with him here in the kitchen happened exactly as I described it. Everything Dad did after that phone call from Foster was just as I’ve told you, except that he was doing damage control for me, not for himself.

“Having recovered the money, he urged me to turn myself in. Giving back the money and turning state’s witness against my accomplices might prevent me from being charged. Besides, that would be the right and moral thing to do, he said. Also, as a witness to Foster’s death, he had an obligation to report it to the authorities.

“Of course, he was right on all scores. But in all honesty, his appeal to my conscience didn’t affect my decision as much as learning that Rusty had had a hand in Foster’s dying, whether or not he’d killed him outright. That shook me because it gave backbone to his threats toward you. He wasn’t just a smarmy, spoiled brat. He was sick. Psycho. Evil. My worst transgression, even above the theft, was my naïveté regarding his depravity.

“So I agreed with Dad. However, he and I knew better than to call the sheriff’s department. Dad told me that he would call the Texas Rangers, maybe even the FBI. But he suggested that we wait until daylight. He wanted to clean himself up, get cold sober and clear-headed. He said we had to place ourselves in the best possible bargaining position for my clemency.

“He told me to go upstairs and try to sleep. He held my face between his hands and apologized for all his shortcomings. He blamed himself for driving me to commit a crime, and told me he would make certain the authorities understood that desperation had led me to do it. He kissed my forehead.

“Obediently I went to my room. I was nervous and frightened. Even if I surrendered and threw myself on the mercy of the law, there was still a chance I would go to prison.”

She reflected for a moment, then shook off her pensiveness and shifted her position in the chair. “I never saw Dad again. He’d seemed so contrite over his failings. There were even tears standing in his eyes. It never occurred to me that his mea culpa was a ploy.”

No one said anything; then Ledge prefaced speaking by clearing his throat. “When did you discover that he was gone?”

Lisa looked at him, then at Arden. “When Rusty nearly beat down the door looking for him.”

“You’re lying.”

“Rusty was here that night?” Arden asked.

She and Ledge had spoken in unison, but it was his accusation of lying that Lisa addressed. “I’m not lying! I was in my room, but it was a ridiculous notion that I could sleep. When the pounding on the door started, I was afraid it was lawmen, here to arrest me.” She looked at Ledge. “I thought perhaps you’d done as Rusty had feared, that you had turned on the rest of us to save your own skin.”

He gave her a baleful look but didn’t comment.

She went back to Arden. “I was afraid that you would wake up and be terrified. Not even taking time to dress, I ran downstairs in my pajamas and answered the door. It wasn’t men in uniform. It was Rusty, and he was a wreck. His clothes were filthy. He was all banged up and in obvious pain. He couldn’t even stand upright, but he barged in, ranting, demanding to know where Dad was, threatening to kill him.

“I had to pretend to be shocked by his appearance, pretend not to know about his fierce fight with Foster and how it ended. I kept asking him what had happened to him, who had beaten him up, what had Dad to do with anything.

“He said, ‘Foster told your old man about the burglary. He knew where I was going to meet Foster. He hoodwinked both of us and took the money. Where is he?’ He told me that when he found Dad, he was going to kill him, and I believed him.

“He pushed me aside and hobbled into the kitchen here. There were Dad’s fresh muddy footprints, and a wet patch on the floor where the bag had been. I gaped at them as though I didn’t understand what they signified.

“Actually, at that point in time, I didn’t,” she said with a wry grimace. “I thought maybe Dad had seen Rusty’s car coming toward the house and had sneaked out. Something like that. I was glad that he and the money were safe from this crazy person ranting at me. He went out the back door and into the garage. I followed, fearing Dad would be cowering in there. But he was nowhere to be found. Rusty was relentless, saying he was going to find him if he had to tear the place apart.

“When we came back inside, he went from room to room. I kept trying to distract him by asking how he’d been injured. He was grunting and groaning in pain, but he dragged himself upstairs. He looked into your room,” she said to Arden, “with me begging him not to wake you. If you had woken up and seen him in his condition, you would have been traumatized.”

“No doubt,” Arden said caustically.

Lisa plowed on. “Rusty searched in my room. That left only Dad’s bedroom. It was empty. But what struck me then was that Rusty’s muddy footprints on the stairs and along the hall were the only ones in any part of the house, other than those there by the back door.

“Dad had come no farther into the house than just inside the kitchen door where I had last seen him, remorseful, wringing his hands, tears in his eyes. The bag of money at his feet. It was then that I began to get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.”

Lisa seemed to lapse into the memory. Ledge and Arden glanced at each other. He asked, “What was Rusty’s reaction to finding him gone?”

Lisa roused herself. “He was like a man possessed. He pointed out to me that Dad’s car was still in the garage, that my car was in the drive. He kept asking how he could have gotten away. I didn’t dare mention the boat. But I did ask about Foster.”

“And their secret meeting,” Ledge said.

She nodded. “In that reeking ditch, Rusty had emphasized that we should act like virtual strangers if we saw each other. Why had he gone against his own advice and arranged to see Foster that same night?”

“How did he answer?”

“He didn’t. But it was like I’d given him an electric shock treatment.”

“He realized he needed to establish an alibi,” Ledge said. “He went to Crystal.”

“I didn’t know about that,” Lisa said. “Nor did I care. I just wanted him out of this house. He left with threats ringing in my ears. He warned me never to tell about any of it. He also said that if he ever discovered I was in cahoots with ‘my old man,’ he would kill me. Then he limped out of here.”

“What did you do after he left?” Arden asked.

“Collapsed where I stood. I tried to absorb the shock of it all and figure out what I should do. My first priority was to protect you from what had already happened, and from whatever might be coming. After pulling myself together, I cleaned up the floors and straightened things Rusty had disturbed. By the time you woke up, everything looked normal.”

“Except that Dad didn’t come down for breakfast. You sent me up to his room, knowing that he wasn’t there.”

“I kept waiting for him to walk through the back door and explain his disappearance.” She looked at the back door and gave a humorless laugh. “To this day, I’m still waiting.”

She took a moment, then continued. “You and I baked our cake and had our Easter dinner, but you were dejected because Dad wasn’t here. You asked to go to the cemetery, and I took you. Dad actually had gone the night before. There was a fresh arrangement of flowers on Mom’s grave. I resented that pathetic gesture.

“If he had loved her as much as he professed, if he loved us so much, why had he left me to deal with Rusty alone? When he did slink back, I looked forward to calling him a gutless coward to his face. You see, I was still under the delusion that his abandonment was temporary.”