Levi thought for a moment. “There are some old albums in Dad’s office. Our high school stuff. Hang on.” He jogged up the porch stairs.
“Pearl was at the same prom as Jennifer and Gwen, correct?” Truman asked.
“Right. It was a big deal in our house. Dad was firmly against Pearl going, but Mom convinced him since Pearl was going with a group of girls, not with a date.”
“What are you hoping to see in the pictures?”
“A very tall young man named Craig.”
“It won’t prove anything.”
“I agree,” said Mercy. “But it’s one common thread that might tighten things up.”
Levi came outside, flipping through a fat album. “Here.” He tapped an open page and showed the two of them a few candid shots of Pearl in her prom dress, standing in front of her parents’ wood stove. Another shot showed her and Jennifer in the same spot.
Mercy blinked, stunned that the dresses and hairstyles were so dated. That night she’d believed her sister was movie-star fashionable. She turned a page and found a formal group picture shot by the prom photographer.
A Night in Italy. The group stood in front of an image of an Italian palace.
Craig Rafferty stood in the back row. Five girls. Three guys.
They all looked incredibly happy.
“Think this is the picture that’s missing from both scenes?” Truman asked.
“I do,” said Mercy. “I wonder why he took them.”
“Souvenirs,” mumbled Levi.
What drove the nice young man in this picture to kill women he knew?
I’m jumping to conclusions.
“So Craig said he and Kenny were coming for a social call the night they attacked us?” Mercy spit the words as she shut the album.
“He said they were stopping by to see me and he didn’t know what Kenny was going to do until he suddenly attacked.”
“Bullshit. Rose said two men attacked her.”
“I didn’t know what to think!” Levi pleaded. “My main concern was hiding the body and keeping you and Rose safe.”
“Rose isn’t safe now,” said Truman. “Are you done with your story, Levi? Because we need to tell the FBI to go find Craig Rafferty.” He turned away and strode back to the house.
“When did you know?” Mercy whispered. “When did you know Craig had Rose?” A fine, frail thread connected her and her brother. A thread she’d repaired this week. Now it was close to breaking again.
“I don’t know that he has her,” Levi admitted. “I didn’t tell you right away because I wasn’t sure. I’m still not sure. I’m just guessing.”
“You’re lying. Where did you go at midnight?” The look on Levi’s face told her he’d suspected all along that Craig had been involved. Why didn’t he say something immediately?
Because it made him look bad.
Another hole ripped through her heart.
I can never trust him again.
His shoulders slumped. “I went to Craig’s to look. There’s no one there.”
“Damn you, Levi,” Mercy swore again, tears flooding her eyes, that thread stretching dangerously tight. “If Rose is dead, this is on you.”
Her brother started to cry.
THIRTY-SEVEN
Two hours later every available law enforcement officer had been mobilized, and Craig Rafferty was nowhere to be found.
After Levi’s confession, Truman had approached Jeff Garrison, Eddie, and Sheriff Ward Rhodes in the Kilpatrick kitchen. Speaking carefully to protect Mercy’s story, he told them that Rose had recently told Levi that she suspected Craig Rafferty had tried to break in to their house fifteen years ago. Karl Kilpatrick had been sitting with the officers and chimed in that Rose had heard a voice that night but had never known who’d been outside their home. Sheriff Ward asked if Karl had reported the disturbance back then and Karl had said, “Why would I? Nothing happened.”
It was the strongest lead they had, and the officers had thrown everything they had into finding Craig Rafferty’s whereabouts.
Craig’s house was empty. His vehicle missing. Mike Bevins hadn’t seen him since they stopped by the Kilpatrick home last night to offer help. No one at the Bevins ranch had seen him after that. Jeff filed a request for his cell phone records, and officers continued patrols searching for his vehicle.
His disappearance encouraged them that they were on the right track.
Eddie had given Truman an odd look, asking why Levi hadn’t mentioned Craig earlier. Truman had shrugged and lied, saying Rose hadn’t been positive about the identification and Levi hadn’t wanted to send the investigation in the wrong direction. Eddie had nodded, holding Truman’s gaze, and Truman suspected he knew he was bending the truth.
The other officers had jumped on the lead, not caring about its source.
And it was looking solid.
But no one could find Craig Rafferty.
Jeff Garrison scribbled on a pad of paper. “Who are his friends? Where’s he hang out? Does he own any other properties? Does he go fishing or hunting and use someone’s cabin? If he’s got a hostage, he needs a place to hold her without any prying eyes.”
“That describes nearly every place around here,” Truman muttered.