“We suspect we have at least two more victims because of the faces we can’t put names to,” Foster said. “That first spot of blood found on Ainsley has to belong to one of them. Either we find Tom Morgan and Amelia and they tell us where these women are, or we have to hope we find them ourselves or someone stumbles on another tarp.” She scanned the team, each face. “We stop them.”
CHAPTER 73
Bodie walked out of his building and turned sharply toward the lake. He needed to walk. He needed the quiet. He craved the darkness. He knew there were cops in a car watching from across the street. They’d been there off and on for days. Surveillance. Like he was too stupid to know. He’d heard about Silva, but he hadn’t been able to work up a lot of sympathy. He knew it was his father’s doing. And where was Am? He’d been calling her since the police had let him go, but she hadn’t answered his calls or called him back. Was she with him? Had she always been?
Why couldn’t he turn his father in? What prevented him from simply walking into the police station and telling Foster and Li and the others that his father killed women? He didn’t know. That wasn’t quite right. He did know. He had been taught to lie and cover, to repress and ignore, to normalize that which was abnormal.
He liked the sound of his footsteps on the path and also knowing that his were the only footfalls he could expect, but this night, when he turned toward the sound of lapping waves and walked a block, there was the sound of footsteps behind him. Am. He reeled, but it wasn’t her; it was Detective Foster.
“What do you want?” It was harassment. The cops had no right to hound him this way.
Foster stood there, six feet away at best. “I’m looking for your sister. I thought maybe you’d know where she is.”
That threw him. He thought it was him they were trying to break down; otherwise, what was the surveillance for? He scanned the park, looking for the other one, Li, but Foster appeared to be alone. “My sister? Why?”
Foster glanced around. “You always walk this late at night? Not the safest thing to do.”
“I’ve got half the police department watching me,” Bodie said. “Answer the question.”
Foster let the distance between them stand. “Dr. Silva ID’d your sister as her attacker. And when she’s strong enough to add more, if she ever is, we’ll arrest Amelia. And also, because we think she can lead us to Tom Morgan.”
Bodie pedaled back, just a couple of steps, just enough to put more air between them. The mention of his father’s name elevated his unease. The police knew he was alive and back in the city. They knew that Amelia and Bodie were connected to him. Did they also know the worst of it? He opened his mouth to deny everything, but Foster stopped him with a warning look.
She slipped a hand into her pocket and pulled out an envelope and handed it to him. “We spoke to her earlier today. She came in with a lawyer to get you out, but you’d already gone. You haven’t spoken to her since then, I take it?”
Bodie shook his head, still startled by the intrusion, not sure what to make of it. He stared down at the envelope in his hand. “What’s this?”
Foster backed up. “Read it. Amelia likely ran to him, to confront him about everything. She seemed pretty upset. What’s in there isn’t anything you couldn’t have found on your own, if you’d known to look for it, and it answers a few questions you might have had. We gave your sister the same information. My card’s in there, too, in case you decide to get in touch.”
Foster turned and walked away, and Bodie stood there clutching the envelope, then fast-walked down the path toward the lake. He wanted far away from Foster. He wanted to find a quiet place, someplace with no one around. He raced into the park, found a bench under a tree near a light. A woman passed him, a scraggly terrier trotting beside her. He needed them to pass before he opened the envelope.
He couldn’t read fast enough—his eyes soaking in every word, every implication—sweat dripping down his back, even though it was fifty degrees. By the time he’d finished reading, his hands were trembling. “Oh my God.” He read everything again, then a third time. Then he tried calling Amelia’s number and got voice mail again. He’d left earlier messages, frantic ones, pleading for her to call back. This time, he had just one thing to say. He laid the envelope on his lap as though it were a precious thing, then waited for the beep. He had just two words for his twin, likely the last words he’d ever say to her.
“I’m free.”
He walked fast back to his apartment, clutching the envelope, but the walking quickly morphed into a trot and then a full-out run. He was angry, angrier than he had ever remembered being. She had kept it all from him, knowing what it would mean for him. If he wasn’t tainted, he could be anyone, do anything. He didn’t need Amelia. For the first time in his life, he could be completely his own person. No Am to hide behind, to defer to. No Bodie Morgan bringing up the rear, disappointing everybody, including himself. No Tom Morgan. No sin.
“Boden Jensen.” He whispered the name to himself, trying it on. “I’m Boden Jensen.”
He could feel himself shedding his old skin as a weight lifted off his shoulders. He didn’t have one drop of Tom Morgan in him. When he reached his apartment, he crumpled the envelope in his fist and tucked it inside his jacket, placing a hand over it as if to protect the truths that lay inside. He didn’t need to talk to Amelia. She would only lie. He didn’t need to talk to her ever again if he didn’t want to. She didn’t know it yet, but he was already gone.
“I’m Boden Jensen,” he muttered to himself, finally clean. “And I’m free.”
CHAPTER 74
“Tell me about my mother,” Amelia said as she watched Tom Morgan stare out the window onto the backyard of his new house. She’d given it all night and half the morning to decide and now stared at the familiar stranger as though he were nothing, no one. “You always said you would tell Bodie and me about her when we got older.” He didn’t bother turning around. Was she not even important enough to face?
“I did, but now’s not the time,” he said. “We have a lot to do. There’s the doctor and the detectives.”
“The doctor. Right.”
“I don’t hold her against you.”
“But you keep bringing her up.”
It was true that you never really knew a person. She’d thought she knew exactly who and what she was, who’d made her, only she didn’t. She hadn’t a clue. She wondered if he could feel the change in her. She could feel it. He had always been so intuitive, so tuned in to the shifts in the air, sensing when things were off. Could he do that now? Could he sense that Amelia knew? She hadn’t told him about the police station. It was no longer his business.
“I’d like to know now . . . about her.”
He turned around. He wasn’t smiling; neither was she. There was no longer a reason to lie. “When did she die?” Amelia asked. “How?”
“You’re upset about the doctor,” he said, ignoring her questions. “I’ve already forgiven you for that. I think we should start with Detective Li. She has a child. Her loss will be devastating, and it will hobble them long enough for everything to fall apart. I’ve done the advance work. I anticipated that things would likely come to this.”