The phone felt warm against my ear. “You’re awfully confident.”
“Don’t we both have things the other wants? Don’t we have a . . . what you might call a symbiotic relationship?”
“Symbiotic?”
“It means that we mutually benefit.”
“I know what it means.”
“Hell, we’re practically family. So what’s your answer?”
“I spoke to Caitlin today.” I swallowed hard. “She’s game, and I am too. So . . .”
“You’re agreeing to bring her to me?”
I hesitated. I wanted to know. I simply wanted to know. “Yes,” I said.
“Okay,” he said. “Okay.” What he meant was: Now we’re in business. I heard a door close on his end of the line, and he must have moved into another room or outside the house for privacy’s sake. When the movement stopped, he said, “Okay, how are we going to do this?”
“Start talking.”
“I got a call from my lawyer this morning. Apparently, they have a new witness and new information about the case. He told me to expect an arrest and a new indictment any day now. For all I know, they’ll be showing up today to put me in chains. What I’m saying is, if we’re going to do this, we don’t have much time to make it happen.”
“Maybe I should just let it all go then. You can go on to jail, and Caitlin would never have to face you in court.”
“I told you—I’m leaving no matter what. And if you don’t ante up, you’ll never know what you want to know.”
“I know some things. Caitlin told me a few of them just today. Hell, maybe I know enough already.”
I walked through the house to the living room and stopped, staring out at the front yard. The trees were almost bare, the leaves carpeting the ground or else piled at the curb by my industrious neighbors. The clouds hung low, seemingly just above the treetops. They were as gray as cold ashes.
Colter hesitated. “What could she have told you?” he asked.
“She told me plenty. How you got her in the car, looking for the dog. She told me how you got her back to the house. Your dumpy little house.” As I talked and looked into the yard, I pictured that day. The car circling the park, then leaving with Caitlin inside. I pictured it driving right past our house, Caitlin in the front seat perhaps, staring out the window as she went by here for the last time. “I can go to the police with that, tell them what Caitlin told me. I can add to what they already have.”
“Hearsay.”
“How did you get her to stay in your house?” I asked. “How did you keep her there?”
He ignored my questions. “No one will believe you. After you told the cops about seeing ghosts and all that bullshit, you have no credibility.”
“The parent of a crime victim always has credibility. Now tell me—how did you keep her there in your house?”
“I want to see her before I tell you anything. That was the deal I offered.”
I turned away from the window. “If you want to see her, you have to give me something. You have to tell me some facts.”
“Why should I deal with you?” He lowered his voice, added a hint of menace to it. “You want this more than I do. You’re obsessed with knowing. I can hear it. You know, Caitlin told me some things about you. She told me about your stepdaddy. How he didn’t love you. How he used to come in your room and scare you, like you were a little baby.”
“Caitlin didn’t know that.”
“Somebody told her about it. Somebody in your family.”
“Do you know my brother?” I asked. “You saw him at your house. Do you know him?”
“That’s the angle the cops are working, right? That your brother put me onto Caitlin’s trail?”
“Do you know him?”
“Let’s just say I’ve crossed paths with a lot of people in my time. It’s possible your brother was one of them.”
“Caitlin says she heard his voice there, in your house.”
“He might have been there. Like I said, I can’t keep track of everything that happened in four years. And someone in Caitlin’s situation—living in a strange house, away from everything that used to be familiar—she might imagine some things. It might even be that a guy like me might help her along in that direction.”
“What do you mean?”
“Did she say she thought she heard your voice?” he said, his voice almost jovial.
“She did.”
“It’s not hard to convince a confused kid that certain things might be true. Like her parents don’t want her back. That they came to the house and said it was okay if she stayed with me. Forever.”
My throat burned. “No. No, you didn’t.”
“How are we going to make this trade?”
“Is that how you kept her there? You filled her head with lies? Tell me if you want to see her. Did you lock her up? Did you force her?”
He let out a low chuckle. “You wish I did lock her up, don’t you? That’s what you want me to say, isn’t it?”
“I want you to tell me what happened. What really happened.”
“And then?”