The Whole Truth (27 page)

One of the fishermen buddies had a helpful suggestion for what might have happened to any cash: "Musta dissolved," he said.

10

Raymond

"I have to tell you some news," I say almost the minute Katherine and her daughter step off the airplane and we quickly embrace. I feel such a desire to protect these women, and yet I blunder right off the bat. When I draw them over to a secluded corner of the terminal, I see to my dismay that Katherine thinks I'm going to tell her something else.

"They found Johnnie?" she asks, with a hand to her mouth.

"No, no, I'm sorry, they found Donor." I feel terrible about getting her hopes —or her dread—up. Now I pause, to look at her and try to evaluate her state of mind. "Katherine, he's dead. They found his body in the Everglades, and they say he's been dead for several weeks already. They don't know yet how he died, but it may have been something like a boating accident."

"He's dead?" Katherine's blue eyes have widened, and I see that it's difficult for her to take in this news. She shakes her head, as if to clear it. "He can't be dead, Marie. He has to be arrested and tried for what he did to us, he has to be punished and put in prison. I thought he could be executed. I thought—"

Kim and I exchange looks, and an unspoken agreement to get her mother out of here.

"I'll get my car," I tell them.

"And I'll stay with Mom and get the luggage."

I tell Kim what kind of car to look for, and within twenty minutes we're driving away from the airport together.

"I'm so angry about this!" Katherine tells us.

That's not hard for me to imagine.

"At least he's gone, Mom," Kim says, trying to give solace. "He can't hurt us anymore. He can't hurt Johnnie, or Cal. He can't hurt any other children. This is a good thing, Mom."

But she will not be distracted from a rage that is visibly building inside her, a rage that only yesterday found its focus in Donor Miller, and now can't even be spent in the normal way.

"I wanted to sit at his trial in a courtroom," she says, fiercely. "I wanted to testify against him. I wanted to hear a jury pronounce him guilty, and I wanted to hear a judge sentence him, and I wanted all of us to get a chance to get up and tell the world what a horrible person he is! I feel so cheated! It isn't fair."

She makes me think of Natty's parents.

I called Susan and Tony McCullen this morning, to warn them what was coming: Ray's mom and sister on television, pleading for his surrender and his life. They seemed stunned by the story, not quite able to take in all at once what I was telling them. From their responses, I couldn't really judge how they felt about it.

I could tell Katherine what I've learned from the families of other victims: That the "satisfactions" of a trial and punishment don't last long, and that they don't dispel the fury and sorrow. I don't say that, however, because it would be presumptuous.

I just drive, and listen, and try to answer her questions.

"I don't understand, Marie," she says, "how the police down here can find the dead body of my son's abductor, but they can't find my son. It's almost two weeks since Johnnie got away! Why can't they find him?"

"Escapees often remain at large for a long time, Katherine, especially in states where there are vast, wild areas, like here in Florida. He could be in the Everglades. He could have gone down into the caverns of central Florida. He could be hiding in someplace like Ocala National Park." I don't tell her that Ocala is a huge forest where black bears and panthers still roam to this day. "There was an escapee in your area who stayed loose for three months in the Ozarks, and there's a man who's been hiding in mine shafts in North Carolina for years."

This is true. Until he was shot and killed, the Missouri fugitive survived by breaking into empty cabins and stealing supplies. The North Carolina fugitive, ¦wanted for bombing abortion clinics, eluded two hundred state and federal agents for three years, and he's still on the loose.

"Ray could stay out for a long time," I warn the women.

"Well, maybe he's safer that way," Katherine says, and then an anguished expression crosses her face, as if she has only that moment recalled the reason he is fleeing. "Oh, but I think of that little girl, and of her parents, and I feel so guilty. I know what they're going through. If only we could have gotten Johnnie back, then their daughter wouldn't have died. This is a terrible thing."

I have nothing but agreement for that.

"It's beautiful here," Kim says, from the backseat, and I sense that she's trying to do what she has tried to do for twenty-two years: make her mother feel better. Her voice sounds brittle, as if she's forcing herself to be cheerful as she says, "Are we very far from the ocean? Is there any chance we could drive by the beach?"

Over a seafood lunch, in a booth by a window overlooking a beach and the Atlantic Ocean, I try to calm them down a little. They both look charming, Kim in a cotton suit that suits her large frame perfectly, and Katherine in a belted, shirtwaist dress. Kim's in red, Katherine's in black, which is probably hot on her. But whether they know it or not, they've dressed perfectly for being interviewed on television.

"Here's what we've done so far," I tell them, talking slowly so they can take it all in. We have sweating glasses of ice water in front of us, and a platter of stone crabs they haven't touched. I have a lot of information to dump on them all at once.

"I've talked to Detectives Anschutz and Flank—" I examine their faces to see if they recognize those names, and they do. "They told me they have talked to you, to bring you up-to-date on their investigation and their search. Is that true?"

Both women nod at me, looking pale and wide-eyed.

"That's great, and did they tell you what their public information officer has done? He called the major local newspaper, which is the Bahia Sun, and every television station, including cable, and told them about your story. They're all extremely eager and willing to put you on the air. He went ahead and set up some taping and live news times, and he hopes that's all right with you?"

Looking bewildered, they nod their heads.

The detectives and the public information officer have turned this job over to me, because I'm the first one to see Katherine and Kim today. I don't actually need that excuse for getting involved, however, because this all counts as research for my book. Plus, I can't bear the thought of releasing these innocents into the wilds of south Florida without a native to guide them. Since this was all my idea, the least I can do is to drive them around to their appointments.

"You didn't arrive in time for any of the noon news shows, but he's got you live on one of the six o'clock shows, and you'll be taped for the other ones."

Ordinarily, the public information officer of the Bahia Police Department would never get involved in this, but since the police are hoping these women can lure Ray back into custody, he wanted to help. This is a lot to ask of these rather shy women, but it's one of the reasons they came, and by now I think so highly of them, I'm pretty sure they can pull it off.

"A couple of the stations wanted to interview you someplace else, and I thought you might be more comfortable doing that at my house, so they'll come over in time for the late news tonight. It might seem as if a single press conference would be more efficient, but there's a reason for this madness."

They look eager to grasp any hope I give them.

"This way, every interview will be unique. If you were to be seen on every station saying the same thing over and over people might get bored, and switch channels."

"Bored," Kim says, as if that's unbelievable.

"Marie's right," her mother says. "I should try to say a little something different each time, don't you think? And can Kim do some of these interviews, too?"

Her daughter looks immediately terrified.

I assure Kim, "It's easy, I swear, and it'll be over so fast you won't even know you've been on camera. They'll be very kind to you, I promise, and they'll help you get through it. Yes, you can both do them, I think that's fine, although it will probably have the most impact when you do, Katherine. As for what you ought to say—"

I study the attractive, tense women across the table from me.

"Say what happened to him. Say it will break your heart if you don't ever get to see him alive again. Plead with people to capture him, but not to hurt him. And plead with Ray to turn himself in. Just tell the truth."

"How long before our first interview?" Kim asks, nervously.

"They start at five o'clock," I tell her. "Four hours."

"Oh, gosh," she says.

Her mother grasps her wrist. "We can do it for your brother."

"I can," Kim says, squeezing her eyes shut. "I can, I can, I can."

I decide it is better not to mention this will be good experience for the Today show, Good Morning America, and the CBS Morning News, in case they come calling, too.

"The state's attorney wants to meet you," I tell them next, as our entrees arrive. They have ordered fried shrimp, which I doubt they will eat, either. I can carry it all home in case they get hungry for it later. I give them another choice: "Do you want to meet him?"

"Why?" Kim asks, and I see that she understands I am talking about the man who got her brother convicted. "Why does he want to meet us?"

"I don't know," I say, honestly.

He wouldn't tell me when he requested it, after I told him they were coming to visit me.

"Do you want to, Mom?" she asks Katherine. "If it will help," her mother says. How can it ? I wonder.

The interview with Franklin in his office goes surprisingly well.

He drops everything when I arrive with them unannounced. He is at his compassionate, considerate best, and they are completely charmed by this man who wants to kill their son and brother. Watching them all together, I am not convinced the women quite understand the direct connection between the prosecutor and the electric chair.

"If you can get him to come in, we'll let you see him."

That's Franklin's pronouncement, on the spot.

"What do you mean?" Kim asks him, speaking for both of them.

The women and I are seated in chairs in front of Franklin's big wooden desk, and he is leaning on it directly in front of us. There's a piece of white lint on the left arm of his black suit coat, and it's all I can do not to reach over and pluck it off.

He says, "I mean that we will make it possible for you to see him, under guard, as soon as possible. I'm sure this is extremely difficult for you, and I don't want to make it any harder than it has to be. I don't want to make you wait to go through normal channels before you can see him again."

It strikes me there is no real reason for this meeting.

He doesn't meet my eyes, and that, combined with the fact that he wouldn't tell me what he was up to, suggests a political motive to me. The state's attorney doesn't want to look like a bad guy in this story as it unfolds; he wants to be seen as tough on Ray, but sympathetic to his family. It's cynical, but if it enables Katherine to see her son any faster than might otherwise happen, I'm all for it.

When we leave, Katherine remarks, "What a lovely man."

"I don't know why he insisted on seeing us," I say.

"You don't?" There's a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, the first hint of real lightness I've seen since I met her. "I think I know why, and it wasn't for me, or Kim."

"It wasn't?"

She twinkles at me until I catch on, and blush.

"Me?" I am completely caught out by her. Busted.

"Of course, you, it was plain as day that he likes you."

"Me?" I say, completely caught out by her.

Kim sighs, good-naturedly. "I wish he liked me."

No you don't, I think as we hurry away. They're going to end up hating Franklin, and I only hope that I don't, too.

I have totally forgotten to pass on Leanne English's phone number to them, as I promised her I would do. To make up for that, I tell them who she is, and ask them if they want to meet her, too.

"I think we should, don't you?" Katherine asks me.

If we weren't on such grim errands, I'd feel a sense of power, because even Leanne English drops everything to meet with us.

The Kepler women seem to bring out the best in everybody, and even crisp little Leanne is gracious to them, especially considering the fact that it was Katherine's son who broke her jaw and dislocated her shoulder. Leanne is so nice, in fact, that I am just about to decide she must be on tranquilizing pain pills, when I find out the real reason for her finesse.

"Will you be taking over Ray's legal bills?" she inquires sweetly.

It isn't easy to understand her, and now and then she has to scribble notes to us. This message comes through loud and clear, however.

"His bills?" Kim asks. "Who's been paying them?"

I hold my breath, thinking, please, please, please tell us.

Leanne narrows her eyes, and I can practically see her debating whether to tell us. Please don't make me leave the room, I beg silently, like a small child in a roomful of adults who are about to discuss something forbidden. But luckily, avarice appears to overcome scruples, for she slides a manila folder in front of her, and opens it.

I see her pick up what appears to be a check.

"This has been the strangest thing," she says as we struggle to understand her through her wired jaw. "Ordinarily, I would never tell you this, but circumstances leave me no alternative." She gets up with the check in her hand, and comes around to our side of her desk, and props herself against it so that she is standing between Katherine and Kim in two chairs to her left, and me in a chair to her right. It's a mirror image of the scene in the prosecutor's office.

"I need to tell you a story ..."

Lord, the woman knows how to build up suspense. I could use some of her talent. Did they teach her this in law school? I'm annoyed that she's stringing it out like this, making these poor women wait for her punchline, whatever it is.