Liz was a teenager then, but she knew the underlying reason.
Her father didn’t want a direct route to the Millers. His own shortcomings as a father had made him sickened by the sight of the man across the river. A mistake like the one made by Dan Miller was a virus. Liz remembered how the backyard chickens her grandfather kept would relentlessly peck at an injured bird—peck and peck until a small wound turned into an open gash. Until the weakened bird was pushed into the corner of the coop, unable to fend off its attackers, which pecked, pecked, pecked until all that was left was a bloody carcass.
Her parents had been Dan Miller’s first stealth assailants. Others followed. Whatever the doctor did was suddenly seen through the smeared lens of something he’d done—or something he hadn’t done. His medical practice suffered. His membership in the Rotary lapsed. Kiwanis too.
The lawn fronting the river became the only aspect of the man’s life that looked as though the unthinkable had never occurred. It was a velvet strip of green separating his house from the water’s edge. The river had become a moat that isolated the Millers.
It was true that Miranda Miller fared far better than her husband. Many pitied Dan’s wife. Some wondered if she’d forgiven her husband for what happened or if she reminded him at every turn that Seth was gone. She was seen as a tragic figure, as much for the fact that she was married to Dan as for being the mother of the little boy who had drowned in the flash flood that last weekend of summer. The visits between Liz’s mother and Mrs. Miller continued over the years, but only sporadically, and never foursomes with their husbands. No more joint barbecues or outings around town.
Dr. Miller took a break from his incessant yard work one time when she and Owen moved into the old house on the river and gave a slight wave in Liz’s direction. She saw him and stood there, doelike, on a roadside with traffic whizzing by. Unresponsive. Not even a blink in acknowledgment. Dan Miller had saved her brother’s life and her own, but Liz found herself acting like one of those pecking chickens in the coop.
She came to hate how she’d never reached out to Dan. Wrong, she knew, was wrong.
The call from Linda Kaiser, the Beaverton woman who had managed the registration table for the Oregon bar exam and who insisted that Liz Jarrett had lied about her whereabouts the day Charlie went missing, was one of more than a hundred tips that Esther and Jake sifted through in the first days of the case. Linda said that Liz had just settled in before getting up and leaving.
“She seemed off to me, too,” she said. “Like she was upset. Came just before we locked the door. Most are Johnny-on-the-spot and come early. Not this one.”
Esther wondered where Liz had gone after the test.
And if she’d just made it to Beaverton before the exam started, had she been in the neighborhood when Charlie disappeared?
“Maybe she saw something,” Jake said as Esther pulled into the driveway that the Franklins and Jarretts shared.
“Maybe she was upset by the news. Carole probably reached out to her. They’re friends and neighbors.”
“Makes sense,” Jake said.
“Looks like they’re home,” Esther said, indicating the Jarretts’ RAV4 and the Forester as they stepped out of the cruiser. A breeze blew smoke from a barbecue grill across the river, one of the last smells of summer permeating the air.
A moment later the detective and the officer stood in front of the pink front door. Liz answered the bell with Owen right behind her.
“I saw it was you,” Liz said, looking past Esther and Jake. “Not the press. I don’t want to do interviews, but I do want to help.”
“I know this is a hard time,” Esther said.
Owen spoke up. “It is. Hard for David and Carole, that’s for sure. Hard for us because we care about them.” He reached for his wife’s hand and squeezed it.
“And Charlie,” Liz said as her cat, Bertie, slid past her to the great outdoors.
“That’s why we’re here,” Esther said. “Can we come in?”
“We were just going out,” Owen said, still gripping his wife’s hand. “Now we’ll have to catch the cat.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Esther said.
“It would just take us a minute,” Jake said.
“We really have to go,” Owen said. “What is it?”
“Right,” Esther said. “You’re in a hurry. Understood. We took a call from Linda Kaiser in Beaverton. Do you know Linda?”
Liz’s face went blank. “No. Sorry.”
“We’ve never heard of her,” Owen said.
“Well,” Esther went on, “she saw you on the news, Liz, and she took exception to something that you said.”
“What was that?” Owen cut in.
Liz looked down. “What did I say? I was upset. I said I hope Charlie is found soon.”
“Of course,” Esther said. “Not that. She said that you didn’t stay for the exam. That you left almost immediately after getting there.”
Owen shook his head. “That’s wrong. She took the exam.”
Awkward silence filled the space. Liz didn’t answer right away. She stood perfectly still. Thinking.
“What’s going on here?” he asked.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes now brimming with tears. “I should have told you. I choked. I just knew I couldn’t pass it. I lied to you, Owen. I went there to take it, but . . .”
He put his arms around her. “Oh, honey . . .”
“I’m sorry,” Liz said. “I should have told you.”
Esther and Jake took a step back from the couple. The scene was intense. Liz wasn’t crying, but it was obvious that she was devastated by her disclosure. She kept her eyes cast downward. There could be no doubt that she was humiliated by her admission.
“What did you do after the test?” Jake asked.
Liz was flustered. Her face was red. “What does that matter?”
“Just trying to pin down the time line,” Esther said. “Maybe you got home earlier than you told us before?”
“No,” Liz answered. “I took my time getting home. I was in no hurry to tell Owen what had happened. Everything I told you was true. I just didn’t stay for the full exam, that’s all.”
“This is pretty embarrassing for my wife,” Owen said, speaking about his wife as though she weren’t within earshot. “We’ve got somewhere to go now. Let us know if there’s anything else we can do.”
“All right, then,” Esther said. “Linda said you got there late.”
“I overslept a little,” Liz said. “I didn’t get out of Bend until nine thirty. I probably broke the speed limit the whole way there.”
“Before you left, did you see anything?” Esther asked.
“Anyone?” Jake added quickly.
Liz stood there for a beat. “No. Nothing. I really wasn’t paying attention to anything. I was late and in a hurry to get to Beaverton.”
“The test was important to Liz,” Owen said, reaching for her hand.
Tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m really sorry, Owen. I just . . .”
“It’s all right,” he said, leading her back inside. “There’ll be other tests.”
Jake turned to Esther as they went back to the cruiser.
“Family drama there for sure,” he said.