The Second Lie (32 page)

"No, of course not. Neither do I want to lose my license to practice."

"You're under obligation to report sexual behavior with a minor to authorities. Not to parents." Technically.

"What if Maggie lived with her dad and you suspected that he was Mac?"

What Sam was describing was despicable. But it happened more often than I'd ever have imagined. Even in Chandler.

"Would you tell him what Maggie told you?"

"Of course not."

"This isn't really any different, then, is it? We suspect that Lori Winston could somehow be involved in drug trafficking. And that her daughter might be, as well. Lori might know Mac, Kelly. She might have been afraid the man was the type to take advantage of her daughter and hired you, hoping you'd be able to keep Maggie safe while she delivers drugs for her."

"Which means even more that we should go to her. If she can tell us who this Mac guy is..."

"That's too big an
if
for me right now. Because if she's working for Mac, and Mac is somehow behind Glenna Reynolds's death, he'll kill Lori Winston for sure before he'll let her snitch on him. You want to take a chance that the woman is willing to die to protect her child from having sex?"

I wanted to argue. To find a way out. I wanted to feed my four-pound squealing housemate, curl up with her on the couch and watch
Mary Poppins.

"Do you?" Sam asked again. Was I willing to risk Maggie's life on the belief that her mother loved her enough to die for her?

"Of course not."

"Then do something to get Maggie out of there for a few days. Tell her mother that you suspect some kind of mental disease and need to hospitalize Maggie for a few days of observation or something."

"I can't do that."

But the idea was tempting. Really tempting.

"Do something," Sam said, and rang off without saying goodbye.

29

S
am was going out to Kyle's place for one reason. She needed him. Life was flying out of control and Kyle was her grounding point. Always had been. Didn't seem to matter whether she could trust him or not.

Or maybe, what she was discovering was that, deep down, she did trust him.

Truth be known, at the moment, it didn't matter if Kyle lied to her or not. She needed his calmness. Needed him to quiet her own frenetic pace so that she could think. Find the missing link.

She also needed to use his unlisted landline without him around to hear her. The number MaryLee Hatch had rattled off was replaying itself like a billboard announcement running across Sam's brain.

But first, she put in a call to Jim Lockhart, the Chandler high school counselor who'd helped her a time or two over the years. He was at his home just outside of town.

"I need a favor," she said.

"Anything. I assume you're working on the Glenna Reynolds case."

"I'd rather not say what I'm working on. I just need a favor."

"You got it." Jim had been a counselor at the high school when Sam was there. He had to be close to retirement, but she'd hate to see him go.

"I need a locker at the high school."

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks."

Before she'd reached Kyle's place, Jim had called her back with a locker number and combination.

And she had her chance to use Kyle's phone when he went out to the barn to feed the horses.

She had a good five minutes. Probably ten, because he'd take time to ask Lillie and Rad about their day and to apologize for neglecting them. Not that she knew Kyle well or anything.

She didn't need five minutes. The call took less than one.

"I'm Sally Ingalls," she said, raising her voice several octaves. "I'm staying with my aunt and uncle for a while and didn't do the same math at my school that they do here. I need some help catching up, please. My locker number is two-twelve at the high school." She delivered the information following instructions from a voice recording.

Now all she had to do was get into the high school tomorrow and check that locker without anyone being the wiser. She'd find out what time and where she was supposed to meet her perpetrator.

Sam's breath caught as she thought of Glenna. And wondered who Mac had recruited to take the young girl's place in his system.

And that was where it was going to stop. She'd play along until she had what she needed. She was going to have to be very, very careful not to jeopardize another teenager's safety. Obviously Glenna's position had been important. Shane had been in jail, too, and was still alive. Glenna was not. Which told Sam that Glenna had information that the dealer didn't want known. Like his identity.

Smart guy, this "Mac." He'd kept an extra layer between him and his seller to safeguard his identity.

Stupid guy to continue doing business as usual after a child working for him was just killed.

Or was he simply that confident the law wouldn't find him?

"I know exactly what it means," Sam said over sloppy joes at the big, scarred table in Kyle's kitchen later that evening. He'd just told her about the absence of missing funds in Bob's account.

"It means either he had money stashed away that Viola didn't know about--" she popped a chip in her mouth, looking more like the Sam he knew than the nearly broken woman who'd been delivered to him the week before "--or that Bob got the stuff for free."

"For free? I didn't figure anyone gave that stuff away."

"They don't. Unless the guy was a personal friend of Bob's. Maybe Bob found out what the guy was doing. The guy sold him a bill of goods about how it wasn't dangerous. It was just like moonshine. Would get him through a bad spot. He got Bob addicted to keep him quiet."

Kyle hadn't thought of that.

"Or he could have just been a good friend who was buying a bit of insurance. Bob had a lot of clout in the community and, if trouble arose, the cook would have someone with enough power and or money to return him the favor."

Kyle ate--hungry all of a sudden--and listened. Really listened. Not just to Sam's words, but to the way her mind worked.

"He could have been given the stuff with the hope that he'd get addicted so he could be blackmailed into doing something illegal if the need arose."

Her thoughts didn't stop or settle. They never did.

"It's also possible that he didn't pay for it because he had ample supply."

"How would he manage that?"

"If he, or someone on his farm, was making it."

Okay, that was... "Yale Conrad."

"I've wondered."

He put down the sandwich. "Viola is being understandably protective of Bob's possessions and records right now, of the business, but I know she'd let me back into the shack Yale was using. I told her about it and we changed the locks, but I left everything inside just as it was."

"You'll search the place for me? You'd raise less suspicion than I would."

"I don't think Viola would let you on the farm without a warrant, anyway. Tell me what to look for."

She did. He nodded. And they finished their dinner.

Chandler, Ohio
Monday, October 4, 2010

A message from Deb was waiting for me when I got home. Cole's problem, which he'd finally admitted in counseling, was that he wanted a baby. He and Deb had been adamantly opposed to having kids and had agreed before they were married that they'd never ask the other to do so.

Turned out, after having been married to Cole for a while, Deb wanted his baby, too. My receptionist wasn't going to be in the next day.

I was glad for the validation that there was good in the world.

But Sam's words weren't far away.

"Do something." She basically wanted me to kidnap Maggie. And to lie to her mother. I couldn't do either.

I compromised. As soon as I'd fed Camy and sat my butt in front of a frozen dinner that I eventually pushed away uneaten, I called Lori Winston.

"Is Maggie there?" I asked.

"No. She's at home. I'm still at work."

I took that as a sign that I was doing the right thing. Even though I didn't believe in signs. They were excuses, justifications for a decision a person was not sure about.

I didn't have time to get sure.

"Do you have a minute?"

"Yeah. I can take a break."

I waited while the woman told someone she was clocking out and then did so. "I'm back."

"I don't want to alarm you, Ms. Winston, but I know how much you love your daughter and are concerned for her well-being...."

"Is Maggie in some kind of trouble?"

"Nooo." I was not good at subterfuge. But one thought of Maggie losing her virginity on a sleeping bag in a tent in the woods and I was refortified.

"But I think she's going to be. Very soon. If we don't intervene."

"What kind of trouble?"

The only kind the woman seemed to care about where her daughter was concerned.

"Sexual trouble."

"I knew it. Goddammit, I knew it."

"Wait, Ms. Winston," I said quickly. I couldn't go too far or I'd blow everything. And if Sam was right, if lives were at stake, I'd be responsible.

I wished to God the deputy had given me a little more help in the "do something" department. I wasn't a police officer. I didn't think like she did.

"I'm not saying anything has happened. Only that Maggie came to see me after school today and I sense that she's on the verge of making a major decision."

"Great. On the verge. What am I supposed to do? Just sit around and wait for something to happen? And then have it be too late..."

I understood the sentiments so forgave the overly aggressive tone.

"Can't you stop her? You're supposed to be some kind of expert...."

An expert witness. I gave opinions for a living.

"I've talked to her, but Maggie needs more than that. She needs constant supervision. To be taken to school. Picked up from school. And not left alone."

"I can't do that. I have to work. I'm barely making my rent as it is. And I sure as hell can't afford to hire someone."

"Is there a friend who could help you?"

"Uh-uh. Not anyone I'd trust with Maggie. What about sending her somewhere? I've heard of places that take troubled kids. My brother had to go to one once. I hate to think of Maggie in a place like that, but they watch them closely there. And I'll do anything to get her away from this guy. Whoever he is."

Maggie did not belong in a group home. Not one like her mother was describing. She wasn't an offender. She'd never last there.

Or her innocence wouldn't.

But if it would get her away from Mac...

"I can make some calls tomorrow, see what I can do, but the homes in Dayton are suffering from overcrowding as it is, and without a court order..."

"What about your place?" Lori Winston blurted into the silence that had fallen.

"My place?"

"We could tell Maggie that I have to work third shift for the next few weeks. And that I asked you to keep her for me. I wouldn't ask if I weren't desperate, Dr. Chapman. Or if I had money to send Maggie somewhere, or take her somewhere. If she was with you, you could take her to work. She could help out or do homework in your lobby. You could take her to school and pick her up and work with her one-on-one. You know what to say to her. All I do is piss her off...."

The woman had stepped way beyond her boundaries and right into a plan that would fit Sam's edict.

"I can't do that, Ms. Winston. Maggie's my client. I--"

"Please, Dr. Chapman! I thought you cared about her! I thought--"

"I do care about her."

"She talks about you a lot. She feels safe with you. And with Glenna dying and... If she's with you I can still see her and..."

Sam had told me to do something. And the idea of being able to help Maggie myself, to have the right to keep her safe...

"Okay," I finally said, hoping I wasn't making a grave error. "She'll need to cancel any babysitting she has set up."

"That's not a problem."

"She wouldn't be able to play tennis...."

"It doesn't matter what she's got planned, she'll cancel it," Lori Winston said. "How soon can you take her?"

Everything was happening so fast. But I couldn't risk giving Mac a chance to get to Maggie.

"I'll go get her now, if you want to call and let her know I'm coming."

It was finalized. I'd done something. Just like Sam had ordered.

Whether or not it was the right thing remained to be seen.

Maggie came without much fuss. She seemed kind of excited to be spending some time at my place while her mother worked nights. I wondered just how bad things had been at the Winston household.

The girl was already packed and waiting for me when I got to her place.

I picked up the duffel on the outside step by the one strap that wasn't broken and loaded it in the back of the car. "Is that it?" I asked, nervous someone was watching us, but glad to be getting the girl away from there, as well.

"Yep." She reached for something just inside the trailer--a lined denim jacket--and, wearing her backpack, locked the door behind her.

"Your mother told you you'd be staying with me for a while, right?"

"Yeah."

So the girl packed light.

We got in the Nitro. Fastened our belts. "Did she tell you that you'd be missing your paper route?"

"Yeah. I'm probably going to quit, anyway. I can make more money babysitting."

So Sam's idea that Maggie was delivering drugs with her papers must be wrong. Unless Glenna was Maggie's contact and Sam had been exactly right.

I drove toward my house. It wasn't huge, but it was custom-built and had a hot tub on the back deck. Probably my reaction to my own poverty-stricken childhood.

But, like Maggie, I didn't often invite people inside. No one had ever spent the night with us in the three years since Camy and I had moved in.

"Did your mom tell you why you were staying with me?"

"She thinks I need counseling and can't afford for me to be in a real program. But she didn't seem to know about Mac." The girl looked at me. "Thank you for not telling."