The screen showed a woman, mid-twenties, her hair a dull shade of purple.
“Charlotte wasn’t just my cousin, she was my best friend,” the woman said.
“You were a close family?” Judy Adler asked from off camera.
The woman made a noise that said fat chance. “My mom and Charlotte’s dad had major issues. They haven’t talked in years.”
“Why’s that?”
“Uncle John abused my mom when they was kids. Sexually, I mean.”
A chill crawled up Keller’s back. The woman said it so matter-of-fact. And from what Keller knew about sexual abusers, they didn’t tend to stop as they got older. The victims just changed. She continued to watch the video.
“But you and Charlotte were close?”
“Oh yeah. My mom was worried, you know. She told Charlotte she could come to Kansas, stay with us, anytime.”
“Did you think Charlotte was being abused by your uncle?”
The woman nodded.
“Did she tell you that?”
“Not in so many words.”
“But you thought so?”
She nodded again. “Long as I can remember, she was always talking about getting out of Adair, moving to a big city, changing her name, starting over.”
“Did you ever talk to her about it—what was happening at home, I mean?”
“We didn’t need to. It was just understood.”
“Did you know her boyfriend?”
“Who, Danny? I talked to him a few times when me and Charlotte were Skyping.”
“Were you surprised when you heard he’d been arrested?”
“Oh yeah. I mean, we was in shock. It was funny, ’cause that show made a big thing about Danny and Charlotte, like they were high school sweethearts on their way to the altar or somethin’。 But he saw other people, and so did she.”
“You’re saying they weren’t serious?”
“Not from what Charlotte told me. She always said Danny Pine was a sweet dumb jock. They had a good time, but it wasn’t like they was getting married.”
“She saw other boys?”
“I think. Though she thought all the kids at school were immature.”
“Did she mention anyone in particular?”
“She said there was someone, an older boy, but wouldn’t tell me who.”
“Why not?”
The woman shrugged.
“Did you know she was pregnant?”
“I don’t think she was.”
“But they ran tests and—”
“If that was her.” She said this with a roll of her neck, almost like a challenge.
“I don’t understand.”
“About a week before it happened, she said she couldn’t take it anymore. She was gonna take off.”
“Couldn’t take what anymore?”
The woman looked off camera like it was a stupid question. “She didn’t say. But it was obvious. Her dad…”
“So you’re saying— Then who was at the creek? And why didn’t the police—”
“I don’t know. But Charlotte said she had friends, important people who could help her get away.”
“Who were these friends?”
Judy Adler reached over and stopped the video. “We talked to some of Charlotte’s friends. Charlotte had a bit of a secret life. Older boys, drugs. She’d told one friend she’d been assaulted, and she was afraid.”
Keller gave Judy a skeptical glance. “There was a trial, blood work. Her body was positively identified.”
Ira Adler snapped his fingers and pointed at Keller. “Exactly. And guess who contacted us saying he had something that would blow up what everybody thought about the case. Involving the blood work.”
Keller shook her head.
“Ron Sampson.”
“The cop who interrogated Danny Pine?”
“We were scheduled to meet, and then…”
“He killed himself,” Keller said.
Ira tilted his head to the side, held Keller’s stare like maybe Sampson hadn’t killed himself.
It was all too much. Too many conspiracies. Too many leaps. And Keller was starting to think the Adlers had been drinking the Kool-Aid.
“Charlotte’s father moved to North Dakota,” Ira added. “We’ve asked him for access to her things, to let us exhume the body for a DNA test, but he’s refused to speak with us.”
What a surprise. The guy they were accusing of being a child molester didn’t want to cooperate. Keller glanced at the computer screen again. In one of the windows she saw a familiar face: Noah Brawn.