Hard Truth (14 page)

“Did you hear anything? Voices, conversation, anything at all?”

She shook her head.

“When Jason didn’t come back in, I went out onto the back steps and called him, but there was no answer. And I didn’t hear nothing out there, nothing but the wind blowing through that field.” She bit her bottom lip. “I figured he’d started to remember how bad I’d been and it pissed him off all over again, and maybe he’d run away.”

“Had you seen anyone around that night? Heard any cars?”

“Just the one that dropped off Jason.”

“Billie, did anyone have it in for Jason?”

Billie’s eyebrows raised. “Mister, just about everyone who knew Jason had it in for him. He had a way, brought out the worst in everyone he met. That boy had a chip on his shoulder, big as the moon.”

“Did he mention anyone in particular?” T.J. continued. “Ever talk to you about anyone he was having problems with?”

“No. He wasn’t the type to tell you much of anything. Kept it all to hisself, mostly.” Her voice dropped slightly. “Guess when you know no one’s listening, you just stop talking.”

“The police report also indicates that the police spoke with your ex-husband, who stated he’d had no contact with you or the children in many years. Is that correct?”

Billie nodded. “Buddy didn’t have nothing to do with us at that point. He had hisself a new wife and a new family.”

“Did you ever seek child support from him?” Lorna asked.

“Not much point in that,” Billie told her. “He didn’t have nothing for me to get. I didn’t see much reason to bother with him. Once a man washes his hands of you, that’s pretty much it.”

“But they were still his kids,” Lorna protested. “He should have helped support them.”

“He wasn’t working for a long time. Never seen anyone get blood from a stone.”

“Any idea where he is now? How we can get in touch with him?”

“What d’you want with him?” Billie’s eyes narrowed.

“Well, the police interviewed him then, I’d like to speak with him now.”

“He didn’t have nothing to say on the subject back then. Chances are, he’d have less to say all these years later.”

“They were his kids,” T.J. reminded her. “A lot of times, when a child disappears, it turns out that the noncustodial parent has taken them.”

“I can guarantee you, right now, that Buddy Eagan did not take Melinda.” Billie’s jaw set. “And we all know where Jason has been, all these years.”

“Still, I’d like to speak with your ex.”

“Well, good luck finding him, then. I don’t know where he is.”

T.J. opened the file he’d brought with him and had tucked on the floor next to his feet.

“Billie, this is a copy of the police report from the night your son disappeared. It says that you told the officer who interviewed you that you and Jason were arguing and that he stormed out of the house.”

“We weren’t arguing no more by the time he left.”

“But the report indicates that you were.”

“That’s not the way I would have told it. That’s not the way it happened.” Billie shook her head for emphasis. “We weren’t yellin’ no more then. I wouldn’t have said that we were.”

“But you initialed the pages that you’d read it and it was right,” T.J. pointed out to her.

“I didn’t read real good back then. I wouldn’t have known what he had written on that page.” Her cheeks colored slightly at the admission. “He told me he’d written down just what I said, and he just needed me to write my initials, which he told me meant that I had said those words.”

Billie frowned. “Never occurred to me that he woulda wrote down something else.”

“It’s an important detail, Billie. The way it’s written, it sounds as if Jason left the house because you two were arguing. From there, it’s not much of a stretch to think maybe you followed him.”

“All these years, I did think he’d left the house that night because of me.”

“But it sounds to me as if you and he had, well, come to an understanding,” Lorna said.

“I thought we had, but then he left sudden like that.”

“Maybe he saw something or someone outside,” T.J. pointed out. “You said his head was facing the window.”

“You mean, maybe he’d seen someone out there, through the window?”

T.J. nodded. “If he wasn’t cursing at you, he was cursing at someone else.”

“Huh. Wouldn’t that beat all, if it had been someone else he’d been cursing at. Wouldn’t that be something.” She shook her head slowly. “All these years, I thought he’d been cursing at me . . .”

“You think she was telling the truth?” Regan asked after T.J. and Lorna had filled her in on their interview with Billie. “You think she seemed sincere?”

“Either that, or she is one fine actress.” T.J. settled himself on the top porch step.

“I think she was telling the truth. I think Melinda’s disappearance was a real wake-up call for her. I think she did stop drinking, and I think she would have tried to reconcile with Jason at that point. It all makes perfect sense to me.” Lorna looked at Regan, then T.J. “Is anyone that good an actor?”

“You’d be amazed at how resourceful people can be when they’re trying to save their skins,” T.J. told her. “An accomplished liar could easily have pulled off that kind of performance.”

“The question is, is Billie Eagan an accomplished liar,” Regan interjected. “Do you think Jason really saw someone outside the window that night? Or do you think she’s making that up now, to offer another plausible scenario? If she could convince people that there was someone else there, and Jason ran out to confront that person, it’s just a short step to suggesting that this other person killed him.”

Lorna nodded. “I agree, it’s convenient that she hasn’t told this story to anyone else.”

“We don’t know that she didn’t,” T.J. reminded her. “Billie said that this is the story she gave the cop who interviewed her after Jason disappeared. She says he wrote it down wrong, and because her reading skills were so poor, she didn’t realize that he hadn’t gotten it right.”

“That happens more often than you’d believe,” Regan said. “I’ve found that in my own research, for my books, that sometimes the cop taking down the information uses words that intimate something other than what was intended. Or sometimes the cop doesn’t take real good notes, he’ll think he’ll remember something, but forgets it and writes down his impressions rather than what the person really said. And if, like Billie, the witness or suspect doesn’t read well, he or she could sign something as being correct when it’s not a true account of what happened.”

T.J. shuffled through his files, then, finding the one he was looking for, opened it and took out a sheet of paper.

“The cop who signed this report was a Duncan Parks.” He looked at Lorna. “Do you know if he’s still around?”

“I have no idea. Chief Walker would know, but I’d prefer to keep my face out of his for a few days. I’ve pissed him off enough for one week.” She tapped her fingers on the side of her chair. “Fritz might know, though.”

“Fritz, who is on the list of witnesses we wanted to talk to?” T.J. asked.

Lorna nodded.

“This gives us a real good excuse to pay him a visit,” he told her. “Know where we can find him?”

“I know where to start.”

“Let’s do it.”

“I’ll stay here and wait for Mitch,” Regan said. “He told me he’d be here around dinnertime.” She smiled. “Typical Mitch.”

“We should think about dinner,” Lorna said as she stood.

“Pizza would be good,” Regan suggested. “Got beer?”

“Got a state store about three miles down the road,” Lorna told her.

“Excellent. I’ll just sit here with my book while you two fetch food and drink.”

“Any preferences?” T.J. asked.

“Nope. As long as the pizza’s hot and the beer’s cold, I’m a happy woman.” She leaned back in the rocker and opened her book. “I’m starting to feel a little like I’m on vacation here, and I like it. At least, till Mitch arrives and shakes things up, as he usually does. So you two just go on and see what you can pry out of Fritz, and I’ll stay right here and enjoy what’s left of the afternoon.”

T
hirteen

“Fritz, I really appreciate you making time to see us on such short notice,” Lorna said as Fritz led them into his living room.

“Hey, I’m just glad you were able to catch me before I left town,” he told his visitors. “Is it okay if we talk in here, or would you rather go out to the sunporch?”

“I’d love the sunporch,” Lorna replied. “I’ll bet there’s a beautiful view of the garden from there.”

“The best.” He winked and gestured them to follow him through the house to the back. “Some areas are starting to fade out now, sadly. The daylilies, for example, peaked a few weeks ago. July was spectacular, and we did have fabulous roses this year, if I do say so myself.”

“You mentioned leaving town,” T.J. said. “Vacation?”

“Just a mini. I don’t have time to take a full week off right now—the store is always so busy in the summer, you know, with all those people using Callen Road as their shortcut out to I-95. From there it’s just a short hop to the Delaware beaches.”

Fritz led Lorna and T.J. through a white louvered door onto a screened-in porch that overlooked the backyard. “Sit,” he instructed. “Make yourselves comfortable.”

Lorna and T.J. took the chairs on either side of the door, leaving Fritz to sit on the sofa.

“You really outdid yourself this year,” Lorna noted, looking out the back screen to the lush gardens beyond. “The colors are just wonderful.”

“Everything came up as planned. That doesn’t always happen. And of course, my mother always took great pride in her roses. I try to keep them going in her memory.” He looked from Lorna to T.J., then said, “But you didn’t come to talk about gardening.”

“You’re right. We came to talk to you about Jason Eagan,” T.J. told him.

“Right. You’d be Lorna’s private eye, then.” He nodded knowingly. “What is it you want to know?”

“Just your recollections of the night Melinda disappeared. Your name is on the list of people interviewed, though the notes on that interview and several others appear to be missing.”

“Probably because I didn’t tell them much of anything. I had nothing important to say.” Fritz shrugged. “We were over at Matt Conrad’s, just hanging out in the backyard.”

“Matt’s house was that big white clapboard one on Callen Road, the first house past our fence,” Lorna explained to T.J. “It’s the only house between our farm and the house the Eagans lived in at the time.”

“Right. We used to all hang out there a lot because Matt’s parents both worked and we usually had the house to ourselves till seven o’clock or so, when they got home from work, then we’d all leave.”

“Tell us about the night Melinda Eagan disappeared,” T.J. prompted.

“Matt and I were in his backyard, then Jason stopped by. He said he was on his way to get his sister but he’d stop by after. He was back in maybe five, seven minutes. It hadn’t taken him very long.”

“Did you see his sister?” T.J. asked.

“No, I didn’t. Matt and I were sitting on the stump of a tree that had been cut down, smoking cigarettes Matt had swiped from his mother’s purse before she left for work that morning. Our backs were to the field. As I said, Jason joined us a few minutes later. He had a bag with some of his sister’s birthday cake, and we polished that off. Then, maybe after he’d been there for ten or fifteen minutes, we heard Jason’s mother calling him from their house. He handed me the cigarette he’d just lit and took off like a bat out of hell.” Fritz glanced at Lorna and added, “Mrs. Eagan had quite a temper. When she told Jason to jump, he jumped.”

“So he went home, and you stayed there for how much longer?”

“Maybe another fifteen, twenty minutes after that. Then my brother, Mike, came by to get me home for dinner, and Dustin stopped over. But before we could leave, Jason came back and asked if any of us had seen Melinda. We hadn’t, but we all started looking for her.”

“How did you go about doing that?”

“We just all went through the field, calling her. I went down to the pond, thinking maybe she was there, then back through the orchard. Everyone pretty much fanned out.”

“Were you able to keep track of where everyone else was?” T.J. asked.

“Nah,” Fritz replied. “Most of the corn had been cut by then, but in spots it was still maybe knee high or a little better. And of course the field is hilly, so you didn’t have a good straight-on view of where anyone else was. And by then it was getting dark. You couldn’t see much of anything.”

“So if someone had been hiding there, you could have missed him,” Lorna said.

“It’s possible, but we covered that field pretty well. And then after awhile, the police came, and they covered it, too. If anyone had been hiding back there, I think they would have been seen by someone.” He stopped for a minute, then added, “I seem to recall your mother and father were there, helping us search.”

“That’s right,” she said, nodding.

“There wasn’t a sign of that kid. Later, after we’d been through the field for what seemed like about the tenth time, the police went in to talk to Mrs. Eagan. We gave our statements—pretty much what I just told you—then we went home. It was all anyone talked about for the next couple of months, though. Melinda Eagan disappearing like that, then Jason . . .” Fritz glanced at Lorna. “You might have been too young to remember, but I’ll never forget the sense of panic that went through the school back then. That anything like that could happen around here was inconceivable.”

“Did Jason ever talk about his sister?” T.J. asked.

“Not really. Oh, he liked to give her and her friends a hard time. Creep them out, harass them a little, nothing that would really hurt them. I had the feeling he really did like his sister, but he never would have shown it. It wouldn’t have been cool, you know?”

“Creep them out, how?”

“Just do things to scare them a little. One time, I remember, he caught a couple of little garter snakes and put them in her room to scare her and that other girl she was friends with, the one from Arnold?” Fritz looked at Lorna.

“Danielle Porter,” she supplied.

“Right. Danielle.” He nodded.

“How about the night Jason disappeared?” T.J. looked at his notes. “Which most likely was the night he was murdered.”

“Again, we were all together. We met up at Matt’s, then we went to Dustin’s, and he drove us to White Marsh Park. He was sixteen that year, had his license.”

“How old were you?” T.J. asked.

“I was sixteen,” Fritz told him. “Jason was fourteen, but he looked older.”

“So did Mike,” Lorna recalled.

“True. He’d turned fourteen at the end of the summer, but he was always a big kid. He shot past me when he was twelve. He got the genes from our dad’s side of the family, I guess,” Fritz said. “Anyway, Matt, Jason, and I walked out to Dustin’s. His parents were out for the night, and he’d managed to score a couple of six-packs, I guess one of the older guys picked it up for us. I honestly don’t remember who we got it from. We took it out to White Marsh Park and drank it. Talked about stuff. Girls, of course. Matt had just been kicked off the soccer team for arguing with his homeroom teacher, so we had to talk about the injustice of that for a while. Later, Dustin drove me home, then Matt, and he was going to drop Jason off last, on his way back to his house. And that’s what he said he did.”

“Your brother wasn’t with you that night?”

“No, I don’t remember what he was doing that night.” Fritz glanced at Lorna, then asked, “What’s that little grin all about?”

“I was just wondering how you managed to sneak in half-drunk in the wee hours of the morning.”

“Oh.” He laughed. “My mother visited her sister in Rehoboth once a month. That was her weekend at Aunt Kitty’s.”

“How did you find out about Jason disappearing?” T.J. asked.

“When he didn’t show up in school for a couple of days, we stopped out there at his house, and his mother told us she didn’t know where he was, that the police were looking for him, and if any of us heard from him, we should let her know.” Fritz raised his eyebrows, as if revisiting the surprise of that moment. “We were just stunned, you know? He was just gone.”

“And you had no thoughts about that? What did you think might have happened?” T.J. probed.

“Truthfully, we figured he’d run away. That after his sister disappeared, maybe he figured, what the hell, there was no point in hanging around.” Fritz looked at T.J. “And right about then, the story was going around that the police wanted to question him about Melinda’s disappearance. Some people thought maybe he’d done something to her.”

“Did you?”

“No, Mr. Dawson. I knew he hadn’t done anything to her. For all he liked to tease and torment her, I always thought she was the only person he really cared about. I figured it was more likely that he thought that, with her gone, he didn’t have much reason to hang around.”

“He ever talk about running away?”

“Back then we all talked about running away. Kids do that. No one took him seriously. But then when he was gone like that, we—Matt and me—thought maybe he’d done it after all. Dustin believed Jason’s mother might have had something to do with it, but I never did. She just didn’t have the strength to take down someone who was bigger and stronger.”

“Do you know if he ever saw his father?”

“No. He never saw him, far as I know. Mr. Eagan had nothing to do with either Jason or Melinda. And frankly, Jason wanted nothing to do with his dad. There was no love lost there, on either side, I think.”

“I know you’ve been asked this before, and it has to be something you’ve thought about yourself, so I have to ask.” T.J. leaned forward a bit. “Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to harm either Melinda or Jason?”

“Jason could be a bully sometimes, so I know there were a lot of people who didn’t like him, maybe some who wished he’d disappear. But not liking someone, and killing them, that’s two different things. And as far as his sister was concerned, I’m sorry. I didn’t really know her well enough to have a feel for what could have happened to her. All we knew back then was that she disappeared one night, then a few weeks later, Jason disappeared the same way.”

He paused, then added, “Only now, we know what happened to him. Maybe she’ll turn up soon, too.”

“Is Matt Conrad still around?” T.J. asked.

“No, but Dustin lives out near Elk Run. Last I heard, they’d been in touch. I can get his phone number for you.” Fritz rose and started out of the room.

“And your brother?”

Fritz seemed to pause momentarily in the doorway. “He’s still around. You can probably catch him down at the store till seven.”

“How about this cop who made out the reports, Duncan Parks?” T.J. asked. “He still around?”

“Last I heard, he retired to Florida about ten years ago, had a heart attack, and died a month later.”

T.J. stood and went to the back of the sunporch and stared out at the rose garden. When Fritz returned a minute later, he handed the paper with the phone number on it to Lorna.

“Matt is married now and lives out near Reading, I think. Dustin’s still pretty friendly with him, so he should know how to get in touch with him.”

“You didn’t stay in contact?” T.J. asked.

“Not really.” Fritz shrugged. “We don’t have a whole lot in common anymore.”

“That happens, doesn’t it? Anyway, we appreciate the number, Fritz. Thanks.” Lorna tucked the slip of paper into her jeans pocket. “And thanks for taking some time from your travel schedule for us.”

“No big deal. Besides, I want to help if I can. That was such a sad thing, those two just disappearing like that.” He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “Sure would be a shame if Melinda had met the same fate her brother did, wouldn’t it?”

“How well do you know Fritz?” T.J. asked when they were back in the car.

“I used to know him pretty well. He was a bit older than me, but we were neighbors. The Keelers live right up around the bend on Callen Road. He taught me how to drive a stick shift after my dad died. I had just turned sixteen a couple of months before and Dad was teaching me how to drive his old pickup when he had his heart attack. Fritz later showed me how to work the clutch so I could drive the truck around the farm, like I’d wanted to do. He’s always been a nice guy. Quiet, for the most part, and devoted to his mother, who died a few years ago. She’d been ill, and he stayed home to care for her.”

“And his brother?” T.J. started the car and backed out of Fritz’s driveway.

“Mike had a different agenda.”

“What does that mean?”

“He was much more popular, especially with the girls. Everyone wanted to go out with him—me included—but he was really selective. Didn’t date a whole lot. His wife was a quiet girl all through school. I think a lot of people were surprised when he married her.”

“Why?”

“Well, like I said, he could have had his pick.” Lorna thought for a minute, then added, “She’s not as flashy as he is, if you know what I mean.”

“Maybe he figured one peacock in the family was enough.”

“I think you might be right.” She stared out the window, then said, “Slow down. The pizza place is up here on the left. I know we just had pizza last night, but I have the feeling we’ll have a lot of ‘splaining to do if we go back to the house without it for Regan, and this pizza place is better. The state liquor store is right across the road there, so we can grab a few sixpacks of beer while we’re here.”

T.J. parked in front of the restaurant and turned off the engine. They went inside and read the menu, debated topping options, then agreed on one large pepperoni, one large with everything. T.J. went for the beer, and when he returned he joined Lorna at a small table while they waited for the pizzas.

“I got two six-packs of Sam Adams and two of Bud Light, that okay?” he asked.

“Sure. Thanks.” She pushed a can of Diet Pepsi across the table. “Soda will have to do for now.”

“No problem.” He leaned back in his seat, then thought better of it when the plastic back groaned slightly. He sat forward and asked, “Who’s this other girl Fritz mentioned?”

“Danielle? She went to our school, and was about two grades ahead of us, if I recall correctly. I think Melinda had just started to get to know her the spring before she disappeared. I don’t know how well they knew each other, or how Mellie got to know her. She didn’t say much about her, but that last summer and fall, she spent a lot of time at Danielle’s house. Weekends, mostly.”