“Randy told me there’s a warrant out for my arrest for murdering my dad. He said the autopsy showed someone held a pillow over his face and suffocated him.”
George gave a bark of a laugh. “Rest in peace and all that, but I grew up in Niobe and I knew Randy when he was a little kid. He was always a bully, and that sounds like something he would do. I’ve got your dad’s autopsy report right here. Cause of death: myocardial infarction.”
“Heart attack,” I said. “Randy had me halfway convinced that I’d killed my own dad.” Relief mixed with sadness washed over me.
“Yup. Tox screen came back negative, of course. Randy was trying to scare you.”
“It worked,” I said.
“In any case,” he said, “you should have a check from the insurance company within the month. Curt and Rita are on their way, and they said you can come back to Kansas with them.”
I had the same feeling I imagined regular -people would have knowing their parents were coming to get them.
“Mr. Engle?”
“It’s George.”
“Mitch Bellandini is going to say he was defending Dekker when he shot Randy, but he wasn’t. He hit Dekker with his car. He was going to kill Dekker. And he attempted to sexually assault me. I’m afraid he’s going to get away with it, just like he got away with killing my mom.” I swallowed. “Is he?”
“Since he tried to dissolve Randy’s body, he’ll probably be charged with depraved indifference, which is a second--degree murder charge. You and Dekker will have to testify against him, unless he pleads guilty and there’s no trial.”
“Because if he doesn’t go to prison,” I said, “I’m going to be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life.”
“He’ll probably get eight to twenty--four years for the second--degree murder charge, four to twelve each for the assault and attempted murder, and six to eighteen months for the attempted rape, so he’s looking at a minimum of sixteen years in prison, potentially out in eight. But there are so many variables—-depends on the judge, whether they’ll consider his past criminal behavior, etcetera.”
My heart sank. Only eight years?
“But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. He’s in custody, so you can rest easy for now. When you get back to Kansas, we’ll get together and sign paperwork and so forth. I hear you kicked this guy’s ass. Good work. What exactly happened?”
It took me fifteen minutes to tell him the whole story.
THE NEXT TIME I opened my eyes a different nurse was standing at the end of my bed and the sky outside was light.
“How you feeling?” she asked while taking my blood pressure.
“Okay,” I said. “What time is it?”
“It’s about one--thirty.” The nurse took my temperature. “I was told to let your uncle and aunt know when you woke up. Do you want me to bring them in?”
“Sure,” I said, not bothering to correct her. I figured that Curt and Rita had said they were family so they could visit. I wished I had time to take a shower, because I was pretty sure I didn’t smell too good, but they’d probably understand.
“They’re out in the waiting room,” the nurse said. “I’ll go get them.” She vanished from the doorway, and I fidgeted while I waited.
I heard a knock on my door as it swung inward.
And there stood my father.
Chapter 32
IT WAS SURREAL.
“Dad?”
Even as I said it, I knew it wasn’t him. But it could have been.
The man who looked uncannily like Michael Rhones—-only better--fed and not haunted—-came meekly into the room as if he were entering the cage of a Bengal tiger.
“Anne Marie?” he said.
I nodded.
“I’m your dad’s oldest brother, Scott.”
A woman followed him in.
“And this is your Aunt Gwen.”
They stood side by side, staring at me, their mouths open. Scott’s eyes were shiny with tears.
“My God,” he said. “You look just like your mother.”
“I know,” I said. “And you look just like my dad.”
Scott’s tears ran down his face. Gwen wrapped her arms around him, crying herself.
She and Scott pulled chairs close to my bed and sat. Scott asked me where I’d been all these years, and I told him about my life in Kansas, and then about the past week.
“How did you know I was here?” I said.
“One of the police officers recognized your name,” Gwen said. “He called the Jefferson County Police to tell them you’d been found, and they contacted us.”
“I have so many questions,” I said.
“I’ll try to answer them,” Scott said, wiping his eyes. His facial expressions, his mannerisms, were so like Dad’s, if I squinted my eyes, I could pretend it was him, but in another, better life.
“What exactly happened with my mom and Mitch Bellandini?” I steeled myself for the answer.