She shook her head. “If he did, he didn’t tell me. We’ve been fighting so much this past week, I don’t know that he even would.”
Tears had filled her eyes, and I felt uncomfortable watching her. I looked down at the floor and kicked at the dust.
“What did he do with all the documents he copied?” Father asked.
Mrs. Carter shrugged. “I don’t know. He didn’t tell me. And now he’s gone.”
Father turned to Mother. “People like this, they’d sooner kill us all than risk their dirty laundry getting out. Maybe we should leave.”
“Maybe we should kill them first,” Mother replied quietly.“I know that man. This is just the beginning,” Mrs. Carter said. “He’ll be back, probably soon, probably with others. Running is the only option.”
61
Clair
Day 2 ? 1:23 p.m.
“What the hell is going on here?” Steven Mathers’s face was flushed as he stormed into Principal Kolby’s office.
Kolby raised both hands. “Calm down, Steven. I called you as soon as they arrived.”
Steven Mathers’s eyes fell on his son sitting in the far corner of the room, his head down and clasped between his hands. He turned to the detectives. “What do you want with my son?”
Clair motioned to an empty seat in front of the large oak desk. “Why don’t you sit down, Mr. Mathers.”
This only seemed to anger him more. “What I’m going to do is take my son out of here, lock him in our apartment, and send three of my attorneys down to your boss’s office for a chat. That’s what I’m going to do.”
Clair took a deep breath and let it out. “Your son may be involved in the kidnapping and possible murder of Emory Connors-Talbot.”
Mathers frowned. “Talbot? The real estate guy?”
Nash nodded. “Your son is dating his daughter.”
“Dating is far from kidnapping, Detective.”
“Please take a seat, Mr. Mathers,” Clair asked again.
This time Mathers complied, dropping his briefcase at his side.
“What can you tell us about Jacob Kittner?” she asked.
“My wife’s brother?”
Clair nodded.
“I haven’t talked to him since my wife, Amelia, died a little over five years ago.”
“What about your son? When was the last time he spoke to Mr. Kittner?”
“He hasn’t had any contact with him, either. We don’t talk to her side of the family,” said Mathers.
The three of them looked over at Tyler in the corner; his face was still buried in his hands.
“Isn’t that right, Tyler?” Mathers said.
When Tyler glanced up, it was from behind red, swollen eyes. “This is my fault, all of it. I didn’t think anyone would get hurt.”
Mathers stood up and walked over to his son. “What are you talking about?”
“Uncle Jake said she wouldn’t get hurt.”
Clair and Nash looked at each other, then back to Tyler.
“Uncle Jake? Since when do you have any kind of relationship with that guy?”
Tyler sighed. “Mom and I used to see him all the time. We didn’t tell you because the two of you never seemed to get along and she didn’t want to fight. When he told me he was dying, I started helping him out around the house—little things after school, that’s all.”
“He was dying?”
Clair glanced up at the principal, who was watching from behind his desk. “Mr. Kolby, do you think you could excuse us for a little while?”
Kolby frowned, prepared to protest, then thought better of it. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything.”
Once the man left, Clair returned her attention to Mathers. “Your brother-in-law had advanced stomach cancer. He probably would have died within weeks.”
Mathers was shaking his head. “Wait a minute, what do you mean by ‘would have’? What happened?”
Nash ran his hand through his hair. “Yesterday morning, at a few minutes past six, Jacob Kittner was struck and killed by a CTA bus while walking to a mailbox at Fifty-Fifth and Woodlawn. We think he was attempting to mail a small white box. That box contained a human ear . . . Emory’s ear. Your brother-in-law was the Four Monkey Killer.”
Mathers’s face went pale and he shuffled in his chair. “Jake? He couldn’t be.”
Nash nodded. “He kidnapped Emory, and she’s still out there somewhere. Without food or water or someone to take care of her—she doesn’t have much time. Your son may be the only person left alive who knows where to find her.”
Mathers appeared worse than his son now, his face pale, breath shallow. “Tyler, is this true?”
Tyler drew in a breath. “He’s not the Four Monkey Killer. It’s not what you think.”
Clair crossed the room and knelt at his chair. “I understand you cared for him, but he did some terrible things. Right now, though, we need to focus on Emory, and if you know where he took her, you need to tell us.”
“He’s not the Four Monkey Killer,” Tyler repeated.
Mathers rose and went to his son. “What are you trying to say?”
“Uncle Jake was just trying to help us.”
“Help you how?” Clair asked.
Tyler looked up to his father, then returned his gaze to the floor. “My father has been having money trouble. He got downsized at work last year, and since then he’s had a tough time covering expenses, and he dipped into my college fund.”
“How do you know about—”
Clair raised her hand. Tyler continued.
“Based on my grades, I’ve got a good shot of getting into an Ivy League school, but I’m not doing well enough for a scholarship. Dad still makes too much to qualify for grants, so we’ll need to pay out of pocket. The student loans won’t cover everything. Uncle Jake said the only way to make that happen is if I let him help me. When he found out he had cancer, he tried to get a life insurance policy, but they denied him as soon as they learned about his diagnosis. Then he told me he had another way.
“About a month ago, a man approached him and told him he could make a lot of money if he helped him out with something. He told Uncle Jake it wasn’t illegal—well, not very illegal. He said he knew Uncle Jake was sick and he didn’t have much time left. This was a way for him to help not only me but a whole bunch of people. He said Uncle Jake couldn’t do it alone, though, that I would need to help.”
Mathers was turning red again. “What did that bastard make you do?”
“Mr. Mathers, please,” Clair said.
Tyler sighed. “He didn’t make me do anything, Dad. Nothing I didn’t want to do, anyway. He said I had to get close to Emory Connors, maybe even take her out a few times. She’s hot, so I figured, why not? We went on a couple of dates, then I took her to homecoming . . .” His eyes drifted back to Clair’s. “At first I only wanted to see if I could get her to go out with me, but once I got to know her, I really liked her. We had a lot of fun. I could talk to her, you know? And she’s so smart. She even helped me with some of my classes. Things were going good. That’s when Uncle Jake told me to get the shoes.”