Until Dark (17 page)

“Maybe someone wanted a souvenir,” Miranda added with a shrug.

“Maybe someone had taken it from Ian and held on to it all these years.”

“And then accidentally dropped it under the body of a woman he’d killed a few days ago? Are you suggesting that the same person who killed Ian and Zach might have killed these women?” Kendra made a face, shook her head. “I don’t believe it. The man who killed my brother and my cousin was tried and convicted of the crimes. I sat in the courtroom every day during that trial. I believe Webster was guilty of many, many things. Including the murder of my brother and my cousin.”

“Tell me everything you remember about that summer. Start at the beginning of the summer, earlier if you think it’s relevant. Tell us about Ian’s trip.” Adam rose and opened his briefcase. “If you have no objections, I want to record this, so we have something to rely on other than our own memories. Unless you object?”

“No, of course not. It’s a good idea.”

“And maybe we should move over to the sitting area, where you can be more comfortable. Come on,” Adam held out his hand. “Take a seat there on the sofa and put your feet up. Miranda, I’d be forever grateful for a cup of that coffee, if you wouldn’t mind fixing it for me while I put a new tape in the recorder. . . .”

Kendra sat in the far corner of the sofa and toed off her shoes. It did feel good to relax. She sipped at her coffee and watched Miranda add cream to a cup, which she handed to Adam before pulling a club chair closer to the table, kicking her shoes off, and taking a seat.

“Let’s start with the beginning of the summer, shall we?” Adam said after identifying the parties and the date, time, and place of the interview for the tape. “And for the record, what summer are we talking about?”

“This was the summer of 1990. Ian had just turned eleven,” she began.

“How old were you, that year?” Miranda asked.

“Twenty.”

“So you were nine years older than your brother?”

“Yes. I wasn’t home a lot that summer. I came back from college in May, spent a few weeks at home, then visited my roommate in Maine for a week. We did some hiking with a group from school. I didn’t arrive at home until the middle of July. Zach was already there when I got home.”

“That’s your cousin, Zachary Smith,” Adam stated for the record.

“Yes. He’s the son of my father’s sister, Lorraine.” Kendra smiled wryly. “Excuse me,
Sierra
.”

“You’ve mentioned her before. I take it you and your mother were not close to her?”

“Sierra wasn’t close to anyone. She certainly wasn’t close to my father. But when the boys were about eight or nine—Zach was a year older than Ian—Mom started having Zach come East for a visit every summer, and Sierra reciprocated by having Ian out at her ranch. Mom felt strongly that the boys should know each other. Regardless of what she may have thought of Zach’s mother, my mom felt a responsibility to Zach.”

“In what way?”

“She thought Zach should be aware of his heritage, should know his family. He was my dad’s only nephew.”

“What about Zach’s father? And his family?” Miranda asked.

“We never knew who Zach’s father was,” Kendra said as she shook her head. “No one’s ever talked about him. When Sierra was young, she was a bit . . . free-range, my mother called her once.”

“Promiscuous?” Miranda offered.

“I think that may be an understatement, but we’ll settle for promiscuous.” Kendra’s jaw hardened visibly. “At one time she lived a really free and easy lifestyle.”

“Of which your parents disapproved?” Adam asked.

“I don’t think they cared what she did with her own life, but I think they felt that she should have provided more structure for Zach.” Kendra curled her legs beneath her and settled back into the sofa cushions. “I should explain here that both my father and my aunt came into a great deal of money when they each turned twenty-one, then more when they turned thirty-five. Sierra used a bit of hers to buy the ranch in Arizona. Free spirit that she was, she had a steady stream of visitors, some who stayed for months, years, maybe.”

“And she supported this group?” Miranda asked.

“Yes, food, shelter, and later, we found out, all the drugs they could consume.”

“Sounds like a commune from the 1960s.” Miranda put her feet up on the end of the table.

“Except there was no contribution from anyone except Sierra,” Kendra said. “Several of the women who showed up had children of their own, and my aunt supported them, too. Most of those kids, we learned at the trial, were younger than Zach. All in all, I think he was a really lonely kid.”

“He must have had friends from school,” Adam noted.

“Zach was home-schooled.”

“I guess he must have looked forward to coming to stay with your family in the summer. If for nothing else, the change of scenery,” Miranda said.

“Yes, as much, I suspect, as Ian looked forward to going to Arizona. He was fascinated by the terrain, by the culture. The lure of the Old West.” Kendra smiled, remembering. “Ian was always fascinated with the whole cowboy thing. Wanted to live a rugged life on a ranch, like his cousin did. In a way, I think he envied Zach as much as Zach envied his lifestyle.”

“If your aunt was doing drugs, as you say, why would your mother permit him to go there and stay for two weeks every year?”

“At the time, Adam, we had no idea. Sierra had sworn that she’d been clean and sober for years, and was just living the simple, natural life in the hills,” Kendra told them. “She was apparently fine whenever my mother spoke with her on the phone. If Mom had known the truth, she never would have permitted Ian to go.”

“Did they communicate? Sierra and your mother?” Miranda asked.

“Only by phone. And then only when they were making arrangements for the boys’ trips. After the trial, my mother washed her hands of my aunt completely. Once she found out what had really been going on out there—the drugs—my mother severed ties completely. It sickened her that she’d let her son go there, year after year. She never forgave Sierra—or herself, for that matter—for what happened.”

“And your brother never said anything about what was going on out there?”

“Not a word. You know, my mother really believed Sierra had cleaned up her act. Afterward, we figured both boys had probably agreed not to tell Mom the truth, because they knew she would put an end to Ian’s visits out there.”

“So they got along really well, Ian and Zach?” Miranda asked.

“As far as I could tell. They were close in age, and there was a strong resemblance between them. People often thought they were brothers. I’m assuming they got along well. I spent as little time as possible with them,” Kendra explained. “After all, I was a college junior that summer. Adolescent boys were beneath my notice. Except for the second week that Zach was at our house, I barely saw them at all.”

“Let’s go back to early in the summer.” Adam glanced at a notebook upon which he’d obviously prepared some notes. “You had mentioned once that Ian had been having trouble in school that year.”

“Yes. He’d been defiant . . . his grades had been poor. He was in real danger of not being permitted to return in September.” Kendra rested her elbow on the arm of the sofa. “My mother was at the end of her rope. She’d told Ian she was sending him to some kind of boot camp instead of Arizona and he changed both his behavior and his attitude practically overnight. I think that was when we first realized just how much those weeks in Arizona with Zach meant to him.”

“What do you suppose the attraction was?” Miranda leaned forward. “What was it, do you think, that mattered so much to him?”

“I always thought it was the freedom. The hiking into the hills, the sleeping out under the stars. So different from life out here. And Ian was really into Native American artifacts. He had several things that he found in the hills, plus some items he bought with birthday money every summer.”

Kendra paused, then added, “As a matter of fact, that last summer, he’d taken quite a bit of cash with him. Zach had told him about an old man who lived in the hills who claimed to be a descendant of Cochise and who was getting ready to sell some of his ancestor’s things. Ian thought he’d be able to buy something really terrific—like a bow and the quiver that Cochise kept his arrows in. I gave him money to buy something since I’d been away on his birthday.”

“How much money did he have with him?”

“I don’t know. Whatever Mom gave him, plus his allowance, plus what I gave him.”

“A hundred dollars?”

“More than that, probably. I gave him fifty dollars toward the bow and quiver. Mom usually gave him spending money. And I have no idea how much of his own money he took.” Kendra looked at Adam. “Ian could well have had several hundred dollars with him.”

“None of it was ever found?”

“No,” she told him. “At least not that I know of. Of course, it could have all been in his backpack when they left for their camping trip.”

“So your cousin was here for a two-week visit after which time your mother put the two boys on a plane to Tucson,” Miranda reiterated. “How long were they there before they disappeared?”

“Less than a week,” Kendra told her. “Ian apparently was anxious to meet the old man and see what he had for sale. I think it was the fourth or fifth day that the boys set out on their hike.”

“The plan was to hike up into the hills, buy some things from this man, then hike back down? How long had they planned on being away?”

“Adam, from what I remember, my aunt said they left on a Tuesday morning. Early, like six or so. Before the heat of the day. They would have walked several miles to the foothills, then camped someplace overnight. I think we were told that the old man’s cabin was up in the hills someplace.”

“And no one saw them after they left the ranch?”

“No one. Except Edward Paul Webster,” Kendra said bitterly.

She paused, then added, “And Christopher Moss.”

“Who is Christopher Moss?” Adam asked.

“Christopher was one of the kids who lived on the ranch, the son of one of Sierra’s friends who’d come for a weekend and never left. He was younger than Ian and Zach, maybe seven at the time.” She looked up at Adam and added, “I think at trial it came out that he suffered from fetal alcohol syndrome, he had a lot of problems. Anyway, he had seen the boys leave, and followed them. Several of the other kids said that they’d seen Chris sort of sneaking along behind the boys. Apparently it was something this boy did often. Just follow behind the other kids.”

“How had he escaped the murderer?” Miranda frowned.

“Actually, he didn’t. The police pulled Webster over because the car he was driving had been reported stolen; Christopher was in the front seat. That’s how the police first realized something was wrong. The boy was sobbing hysterically and babbling incoherently. The police ran a check on Webster and learned that he’d only been released from prison three weeks earlier. He’d served eight years for assaulting a child.” Kendra got up and poured herself a glass of water. “Once the police realized that Chris had followed the boys, they started searching for them.”

“And they were never found,” Adam noted.

“Not a trace. And Christopher couldn’t help a bit. He had a breakdown and was placed in a home for children with severe emotional problems. Webster said he’d found Christopher wandering by the side of the road, crying and talking garble, and that he’d picked him up and was taking him to the next town. Which was, incidentally, eighteen miles in the opposite direction.”

“So Webster’s credibility was in question from the start. What evidence had been presented against him, I wonder,” Adam murmured.

“I don’t recall, frankly. I attended the trial, but so much of it was a blur. The only thing I remember is that Ian’s jacket was on the front seat when the police pulled Webster over. He said that Christopher had had it in his hands when he picked the boy up, but no one believed that.”

“And Webster is still in prison?”

“Yes.” Kendra nodded.

“Well, it’s obvious that there’s some connection between the deaths of those two boys and the killer who’s trying so hard to get Kendra’s attention. Ian’s watch showing up after all these years can’t be an accident. The little hair clips in the victims’ hair that are identical to those Kendra wore, the gold crosses . . .” Adam leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees. “Someone’s getting real personal with you. The question is who? And why? Kendra, how do you feel about a trip to Arizona? Starting with a trip with your aunt?”

“I’m not sure I could even find her ranch,” Kendra admitted. “I’ve had no contact with her in over ten years.”

“It’s well documented in the FBI file, and we should have a copy of that by seven tomorrow morning. The Bureau has booked two seats on a flight to Tucson that leaves at ten from Philadelphia. Miranda, maybe you’ll do the honors and drive Kendra and me to the airport?”

“You’ve got it.” Miranda stood up. “Come on, Kendra, it’s almost three
A.M.
You don’t want to have dark circles under your eyes when you see your aunt for the first time in, what’s it been? Ten years?” Miranda tucked her shoes under her arm and started for the door. “Thanks for dinner, Adam. We’ll be back at seven for breakfast and a look at that file before you take off with it.”

Chapter
Fifteen

“I thought I remembered there being more desert.” Kendra looked out the window as Adam sped onto the interstate. “I don’t remember there being so many hills.”

“There’s plenty of desert. But Arizona has its share of hills, too,” he said, checking his rearview mirror before hitting the gas and jolting the rented sedan up to seventy-five miles per hour, twenty miles over the speed limit on this section of Route 10.

The rental car had been awaiting their arrival at Tucson International Airport, and while the sedate model would not have been his first choice, Adam was determined to make it to Bisbee in as close to an hour as possible. The sedan would just have to rise to the occasion. He had an agenda.

“It’s getting late.” Kendra glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “Are you sure this sheriff . . . what was his name?”

“Cole Gamble.”

“If that doesn’t sound like a western sheriff, I don’t know what does.” She leaned back against the headrest and grinned. “Can’t you just see him, in a wide-brimmed hat and dusty boots?”

Her voice dropped an octave or two.

“Howdy, ma’am. Sheriff Cole Gamble at your service.”

Adam laughed, wondering when she would begin to react to the fact that the last time she’d made this drive from Tucson to Bisbee had been for the trial of her brother’s murderer.

“Are you sure Sheriff Gamble will wait for us?”

“He said he’d be there. He was really intrigued by my questions, and seemed to be willing—eager, might be a better word—to meet with us.”

“I wonder why.”

“He said he grew up in the area, and remembers the boys’ disappearance, Webster’s arrest and trial. He knows the area well, and will take us wherever we want to go.”

“I wonder if he knows where my aunt’s ranch is.”

“I’d bet on it.” Adam took advantage of a long stretch of road to increase his speed. “You’re going to stop there, aren’t you?”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to, though I’m not looking forward to seeing her. On the one hand, I feel obligated. On the other hand, I haven’t heard from her since the trial, not even when my mother died. It’s hard to believe she didn’t know about Mom’s death. The story made the news everywhere. I received cards from all over the country.” She added with a touch of sarcasm, “The suicide of a senator is big news, you know.”

“That is odd, especially when you consider what they went through together, as mothers of children who went missing together.”

“One would think. But Sierra was always a very self-centered, self-indulgent woman, at least my mother thought so. As long as something didn’t directly affect her, it didn’t have any relevance in her life. I doubt she gave my mother’s death more than passing notice.”

“Well, I’d like to speak with her, as well as with some of the people living at her little commune. Assuming she’s still there.”

“You can bet on it. Sierra’s lived on that ranch with her merry little band for years now. She’s like the queen bee, you know? Queen of all she surveys? Everyone defers to her. That little world just revolves around her.” Kendra’s voice held a touch of bitterness. “The only way she’d leave would be in a pine box.”

“And I think it’s important that we speak with the boy who followed Ian and Zach the day they left, and with his parents.”

“There was only his mother, as I recall. I don’t think his father was ever around. Another fatherless boy, just like Zach. Frankly, my mother always felt Sierra treated Zach like an afterthought.” Kendra looked out the window, at the lights that sparkled here and there out among the hills. “I didn’t remember how open it is out here either.”

“It’s open all right. It’s pretty empty, actually, outside of the cities. There are a lot of ranches in this part of the state, cattle ranches and some cotton farms.”

“We haven’t passed many towns.”

“A lot of the towns down here are no more than dots on a map, places where the ranchers pick up their mail. And of course, a ghost town or two.”

“Cochise County,” she murmured, reading the sign they’d just passed. “Cochise was the Indian whose bow Ian wanted to buy.”

“Think that was a scam? What are the chances it was an authentic Cochise artifact?”

“I don’t know. Zach was pretty certain, said he’d seen something that made him think it was the real deal. I don’t recall exactly what, though. Of course, Zach was twelve, so what had seemed credible to him could have been anything. And truthfully, at the time, I wasn’t terribly interested in what the ‘kids’ were doing.”

“I’m assuming the old man was questioned after the boys disappeared.”

“There’d be a statement in the sheriff’s file, wouldn’t you think?”

“You’ll be able to ask Sheriff Gamble in about ten more minutes.” Adam followed the signs for Bisbee.

“We’re here already? That didn’t take long.”

“Seventy-nine minutes.” He grinned. “But who’s counting?”

Cole Gamble of the Cochise County Sheriff’s Department was looking out the window when the dark blue sedan pulled into the parking lot. He’d been looking forward to this meeting ever since John Mancini, who was head of some special investigative unit of the FBI, had called him the day before and asked that he cooperate with a field agent who’d be visiting the following day. If Mancini’s polite request hadn’t caught his attention, the case they were looking into surely did. Cole Gamble had vivid memories of the Smith case. Two boys disappearing in the hills, no trace ever found. A third boy found hysterical in the clutches of a convicted child rapist, who was promptly arrested for the murder of the two missing boys. A sensational trial. A conviction that was based, some legal purists argued, on the thinnest of circumstantial evidence and an overabundance of emotion.

Cole Gamble remembered every bit of it. He’d been fifteen years old at the time, three years older than Zach Smith. And until Edward Paul Webster had been tried, convicted, and locked away forever, Cole’s mother had barely let him out of her sight.

The car’s headlights still illumined part of the lot, then dimmed just before a tall man got out from behind the wheel. He was met in front of the car by a small, slender woman. The lot was too dark to see either of their faces, but he knew the woman was the sister of one of the boys, the one from back East, and the man was some hotshot FBI agent who used to play pro football. Mancini had mentioned his name, but right now Sheriff Gamble was focused on the woman. He’d seen her years before. The newspapers had been filled with her picture, and that of her mother, back during the days of the trial. He’d even seen her in front of the old courthouse a couple of times. He remembered how fragile she had looked, yet how steadily she’d supported her mother to the waiting car.

“Sheriff Gamble?” The agent now stood in the doorway.

Stark. Right. Adam Stark. Played for the Steelers. Retired to join the FBI. Who in their right mind did a thing like that?

“Yes. Agent Stark, Ms. Smith.” The young sheriff greeted them both with a smile.

“I hope we didn’t keep you too late.” Kendra took the hand he extended to her.

“Not at all. You’re actually earlier than I’d expected.”

“Agent Stark drives like a . . .”

Adam coughed.

“. . . like the wind.” She smiled.

“I’m sure he does,” Gamble nodded and shook the agent’s hand. “Come on into my office. I already have the old files out. As you would expect, a lot of investigation went into this case. There were boxes of interviews, records, reports . . .”

Adam and Kendra followed Gamble into a room where several open boxes containing manila files sat on the floor, three chairs were arranged around a small round table, and fresh coffee dripped into a waiting pot. The sheriff offered mugs to his visitors, and when everyone was settled, he rested his arms on the table and said, “Agent Mancini gave me a rundown on the case you’re working, and the reasons why you wanted to revisit this one. But I’m not certain I understand exactly what you’re looking for.”

“Something that could connect our killer to the disappearance of my brother and cousin.” Kendra explained that Ian’s watch had recently been found. “Someone, at some time, had to come in contact with him—or with his body—for them to have gotten his watch.”

“Maybe he dropped it on the trail,” Gamble offered, “and someone picked it up.”

“With all the publicity surrounding the case, don’t you think that anyone finding such a thing would have brought it right to the police?” Adam pointed out.

“Not necessarily. Maybe someone wanted a souvenir. You have to understand that this was the biggest happening in Cochise County since the Earp brothers took on the Clanton clan at the OK Corral.” Gamble sipped at his coffee, then added a bit more sugar. “And there’s always the possibility that the watch had been dropped but not found for several years. Maybe someone finding it years after the fact wouldn’t have made the connection.”

“We’d thought of that,” she admitted, “but the watch is perfectly clean of dirt and tarnish. And it’s still running.”

“See, like I said, someone had themselves a souvenir.”

“Be that as it may, Sheriff, how did that souvenir end up under the body of one of our victims on the opposite side of the country?” Adam asked.

Gamble shook his head. “Now, you’ve got me there. How do you think it got there?”

“We thought perhaps if we looked over some of the statements from the old case, spoke with some of the witnesses. Maybe someone who was living at my aunt’s ranch at the time . . .”

“Well, I’m happy to offer you whatever help you need.”
Though I don’t see what good it will do or what you think you’re going to find,
he could have added. “Where do you want to start?”

“I guess we’d like to read through the file, maybe we’ll get some ideas,” Kendra told him.

“And we’re going to want to visit with Kendra’s aunt. Kendra hasn’t been out here since the trial and doesn’t remember how to get to her ranch.” Adam took off his jacket and hung it over the back of his chair. “Maybe you know where it is.”

Sheriff Gamble put his mug down on the table and stared at Kendra for a long minute.

“I guess this means you don’t know.”

“Know what?”

“Sierra Smith died almost five years ago.”

Kendra’s jaw dropped.

“How?”

“Her body was found out in a gully about eight miles from her ranch. Looked like she’d taken a bad fall from the rocks, cracked her head, broke her neck, on one of the rocks below.”

“Oh, my God. I had no idea,” Kendra whispered.

“I’m sorry, I thought you’d have known. Being her niece and her not having any other living relatives.”

“There was no way we would have known,” Kendra told him. “I mean, there wasn’t anyone who’d have known to get in touch with us.”

“And she was alone when this happened?” Adam asked.

“Yes. Apparently she’d been in the habit of taking long walks into the hills early in the mornings, but she was usually back by eight or nine o’clock. When eleven rolled around and she still hadn’t returned, some of her friends from the ranch went looking for her. She was already dead when they found her.”

“Then the ranch has been sold?”

“No, no, she left the ranch to several of the people she’d been living with. Three or four women friends who’d been out there with her for a long time. She’d set it up somehow with her lawyer. She had some money that she left to them to pay the taxes and the upkeep on the property.”

“Who was her lawyer, do you know?”

“Not offhand, but I can find out for you.” He turned back to Kendra. “I’m really sorry, Ms. Smith, for not being a little more delicate.”

“That’s all right. You wouldn’t have known. Can you give us directions to the ranch? It’s been so many years, I’d never find it.”

“Sure. I can draw you a map, if you like.” Gamble patted his pockets, looking for a pen.

“What happened to the other boy?” Kendra asked as the sheriff began to draw his map. “The third boy, the one they found in the car with Webster?”

“Oh, Chris Moss?” Gamble looked up from his sketch. “The last I heard he was still in that institution up around Benson. Why?”

“He’s one of the people we want to speak with,” Adam told him.
And one other, but that conversation can wait
.

“Well, I don’t know that that’s going to be possible. Last I heard, he still wasn’t talking. He hasn’t, far as I know, since this thing happened. Nothing but babble, anyway. But you can ask his mother. She’s one of the ones your aunt left the ranch to.” Sheriff Gamble handed his map to Adam and, pointing to the files, asked, “Now, which box would you like to start with?”

It was almost two in the morning when Kendra stretched out on the bed in the motel where the sheriff had thoughtfully arranged for rooms for her and Adam for the night. Exhausted from the trip and overcome with more emotions than she could deal with, she was grateful for an opportunity to sort it all out. Adam and the sheriff had both walked her to her door, and while she would have been grateful for Adam’s company, she could not very well have invited him in and closed the door in Sheriff Gamble’s face.

It was just as well, she rationalized as she washed her face in the bathroom sink. She’d been feeling increasingly uneasy, almost claustrophobic, since they got off the plane in Tucson. She’d done her best to mask her unrest from Adam because there were so many emotions at war within her.

The memories of the trial and her mother’s difficulty getting through it.

They’d sat day after day in the courtroom, not only hoping to see justice served, but hoping against hope that, before the trial ended, the accused would break down and tell where he’d left the bodies. By the time the trial had ended, all Elisa Smith had wanted was to bring her son home and bury him next to his father.

But Webster had never admitted his guilt, and Elisa and Kendra had returned to New Jersey with aching hearts that would never heal.

And then there was the matter of her aunt’s death.

Kendra slipped into a nightshirt, as she tried to decide how she really felt about that. Her last living blood relative had died a year before her mother had, and they hadn’t known. What might she have done if she had? What might Elisa have done?