Her voice trailed off, fading like the wind through the trees.
Ryan stood up. He slipped the photo back into his pocket. “We’re still tying some things up from the morning,” he said. “But if you could bring her to the station in an hour or so, that would be great.”
“Are you going to get this guy, Ryan?” I asked.
“That’s the plan.”
“And will we know what was said, what she tells you?”
Ryan nodded. “I will keep you in the loop.”
“Tom?” Abby asked. “Are you sure you want her to do this alone? I’m really not. Caitlin is so fragile right now. She’s been so hurt by this.”
What happened to me.
“That’s exactly why she needs to do this,” I said. “Don’t you think?”
Abby didn’t respond, so I pressed on.
“Because she’s been hurt, she needs to tell the story,” I said. I felt the need to convince her. “This man has hurt other girls. He needs to be put away. Caitlin can do that.”
“You just want to hand her over to be questioned?” Abby asked.
“A crime’s been committed, Abby,” Ryan said. “I have to find the answers, and Caitlin has them. I’m not trying to harm her, but we need her to try to help us as much as she can. Even if it’s just a little.”
“There are a lot of people involved in this, Abby,” I said. “Not just us.”
“Is that who you’re thinking of, Tom? All the other people?”
“It’s necessary, Abby,” I said.
“Right.” She stood up and folded her arms across her chest. “I guess I better be the one to go tell her she’s being handed over to you men.” She nearly spat the last word at us, like it was a stone she’d found in a loaf of bread. “You two have such a good rapport with her these days.”
She whisked away, leaving the two of us on the porch. We didn’t have anything else to say to each other, so Ryan turned and went, reminding me as he left that we should bring Caitlin to the station in an hour.
Chapter Thirty-seven
Abby stared out the cloudy front window of the police station at the traffic passing on the street. She didn’t appear focused or fixed on anything. I sat down beside her, and she pretended not to notice me. I waited a few moments, not sure if I should even bother to say anything. Finally, I decided to try. “I’m not trying to hurt Caitlin,” I said. “Or you.”
She didn’t say anything, but I saw a muscle in her jaw twitch.
“I think this is our last, best chance, letting her talk to Ryan today.”
Abby turned to me. “You talk about last chances, Tom. Caitlin is the one who matters. Our focus needs to be on her. She’s what matters—to both of us.”
I stared at the floor. Then my phone rang. I stood up and took the call.
“Hey,” a voice said through the line. It sounded flat, almost unrecognizable.
“Buster?”
“Where are you?” he asked.
“What’s wrong?” I said.
“Where are you? I came by the house.”
“We’re at the police station,” I said. “They made an arrest.”
“Look,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For everything you’ve been through. You and Caitlin.”
There was something about his tone, something off.
“Where are you?” I asked.“What are you doing?”
“We’ll talk soon, I think. Okay?”
“Buster . . .”
But he was gone. I called right back, but it went to voice mail immediately. Three times in a row.
Ryan appeared again and summoned the two of us with a quick wave of his hand. He led us to the conference room. No Caitlin.
“Where is she?” I asked.
Ryan pointed to the chairs. “She’s fine, Tom. I wanted to talk to you alone.”
“Did she have to see him?”
“No,” Ryan said. “Please. Just sit. You can take Caitlin home in a minute.”
Abby nodded at me. It’s okay. So we sat.
“We really didn’t make much progress today,” he said. “At least not with Caitlin.”
“Talking to her alone didn’t help?” Abby asked.
“She told us a few things,” he said.
I scooted to the edge of my seat. “Like what?”
“She didn’t so much say anything,” Ryan said. “But she did ask something. Over and over again. She asked to be allowed to see John Colter. She asked to see him multiple times. Repeatedly and passionately. Finally, I told her to stop asking because it wasn’t going to happen.” He sighed, shifted his weight a little. “And then Caitlin said that she’d tell me whatever I wanted to know if I would just let her see Colter again and spend a few minutes with him. I told her that we couldn’t allow that to happen, that the victim of a crime couldn’t speak to the alleged perpetrator.”
“How did she respond?” Abby asked.
“Like a pouty teenager.” Ryan rubbed his hand across his chin. “You asked me to let you know everything that was said in there. If you still want to know all of that, I can share some more details.”
“Yes,” I said.