Funny, Wilde thought. Hester Crimstein, who knows nothing about technology, had arrived at a similar conclusion when she talked about people’s self-interest. Everything changes, nothing changes.
“When I searched through this entire situation, one weird name kept popping up. Yours, Wilde. When you called Vicky Chiba half an hour ago, I listened in. I know why you’re involved. You’re a skilled outsider. You get what I’m trying to do. I can’t go to law enforcement. I can’t put the other members of Boomerang at risk. I can’t betray them or those who filled out applications and entrusted us to help them. Any kind of exposure could be catastrophic.”
“So what are you suggesting?”
“We pool our resources. I tell you what I know. You tell me what you know. We keep each other in the loop. We catch this killer before they kill again. And maybe, as a bonus, you and I figure out what really happened to you when you were a little boy in those woods.”
Wilde said nothing.
“Neither one of us trusts people, Wilde. That’s part of how we ended up where we are. But that doesn’t matter right now. I can’t betray you. I mean, what would I say?”
“But I can betray you.”
“True,” Chris said. “But one, that wouldn’t work well for you. I’m too dangerous. I have safeguards in place. You wouldn’t want to see what I could unleash.”
“And two?”
“You know every word I’m saying is true. So why would you?”
Wilde nodded. “Okay,” he said, “let’s see what we can do.”
Chapter
Thirty-Six
On the drive to Vicky Chiba’s house, Wilde called Hester and filled her in on his conversation with Boomerang Chris. When he finished, Hester asked what Wilde wanted her to do with the information. Wilde told her to tell Oren about the Boomerang connections and decide what to tell the feds.
“You could have just told Oren yourself,” Hester said.
“I could have.”
“I get it,” she said. “You’re still mad at him.”
“I’m not mad.”
“Just not in the mood to trust.”
Wilde said nothing.
“Is it okay if I still trust him?” she asked.
“You need my permission?”
“And your blessing, yes. I’m old-fashioned that way.”
“You have both,” Wilde said.
“Thank you. I used to be so unforgiving.”
“And now?”
“Now I’m older and wiser,” Hester said. “I also love him.”
“I’m glad,” Wilde said.
“Really?”
He assured her that he meant it, and they hung up.
When Wilde pulled into Vicky’s driveway, she was pacing by her front door. “Silas should be here any minute,” Vicky said to him. “Thank you for being here.”
Wilde nodded. As Wilde joined her on the front stoop, a cargoless truck pulled up the street. A bearded man Wilde assumed was Silas Bennett stuck his head out the window, smiled, and hit a loud horn.
“I’m so nervous,” Vicky said through a smile and a wave. “We’ve kept this secret from him since he was a baby.”
Silas parked the truck in front of the house and jumped down from the driver’s seat. He was a burly man with what one might describe as rugged good looks. The sleeves on his flannel shirt were rolled up over the Popeye forearms. He had a bit of a beer belly, but Wilde sensed strength with Silas. His muscles were not from a gym or for show. Silas’s face split open in a grin as he rushed toward his sister and lifted her in the air with a big bear hug.
“Vicky!” he cried in the same deep voice Wilde remembered from their phone call.
Vicky closed her eyes and soaked up her brother’s hug for a moment. When Silas put her down, he turned his full attention to Wilde. “I kinda want to hug you too, Cuz.”
Wilde thought about it and then figured what the hell. The two men embraced briefly but with gusto. Wilde wondered when he’d last hugged another man. Matthew was too young to count. Thinking back on it, the last “manly” hug he shared must have been more than a decade ago with Matthew’s father, Laila’s husband, Hester’s son.
David.
“It’s great to meet you, Cuz,” Silas said.
Wilde glanced at Vicky, who had her eyes on the ground. “Same,” Wilde said.
Silas turned to his sister. “So what’s wrong?”
Vicky’s smile faltered. “Who said anything was wrong?”