Cemetery Girl

Ryan went on as though I hadn’t spoken. “The preliminary investigation shows that the cause of the fire was arson. A pretty amateur job. Whoever set the fire didn’t make much of an attempt to cover their tracks. They simply poured gasoline over everything, and investigators even found the melted plastic gas cans in the debris. Initially, we thought it looked like insurance fraud of some kind.”

“Jesus,” I said.

“They also found something else in the basement of the home.”

“Do we want to know?” Abby asked, more to herself than to us.

“They found a room. At first, it looked to be a bedroom, something created after the home was built. It didn’t appear to be part of the original structure. The door to this room was heavily fortified. Several different locks as well as some sort of reinforced steel sheeting.”

I stared at the sky. It was perfectly blue like a robin’s egg. I was numb.

“It looked like it was meant to keep someone locked up.”

“You think. .” Abby left her thought unfinished.

“Like I said, it’s going to take some time before they can complete a more thorough examination of the house, especially the basement. Given the nature of the fire damage, it seems unlikely we’ll be able to find any definitive proof that any individual, Caitlin or otherwise, was ever in that basement room. It seems possible the fire was set for that very reason. To obscure evidence.”

“Maybe he didn’t want the police to know he held Tracy Fairlawn there as well,” I said.

“Excuse me?” Ryan said.

“Tracy.” I looked at Abby. “You know, the girl from the strip club?”

“Why are you bringing her up?” Abby asked.

“Maybe Detective Ryan should tell us,” I said.

“I don’t think this is relevant, Tom,” he said.

I turned back to Abby. “Tracy was held captive by a man for six months about five years ago. He took her off the street and brought her to a house. She didn’t know where. He held here there. He raped her repeatedly. She managed to get away, and then she had a baby.”

Abby looked stricken. “Are you going to tell me there’s a connection?”

“We don’t know-” Ryan said.

“She says it’s the same man.” I kept my eyes on Abby, boring in. “The man she saw in the strip club with Caitlin was the man who took her and held her and raped her. The same man. Detective Ryan here just declined to share that information with us.”

Ryan stiffened. “Where are you hearing these things, Tom?”

“I have my sources, too.”

“Well, I came here because I’d like to talk to Caitlin,” Ryan said. “And I’d like to be able to talk to her alone.”

“Shouldn’t we be there?” Abby asked. “Someone to look out for her.”

“Our attorney?” I said.

“Why would she need an attorney?” Abby asked.

“Caitlin isn’t guaranteed access to a lawyer during questioning,” Ryan said. “We may allow her to have one present, as a courtesy. Some kind of advocate. I can decide on that-”

“She has fewer rights than this guy in the jail?” I asked.

“Hold it, Tom.” Abby held her hands out for silence. “Hold it.”

“Abby, he doesn’t care about Caitlin. .”

She kept the hand up in the air between us, and I stopped talking. Abby looked calm and determined, so I yielded. “Who is this man?” she asked Ryan. “And are the things Tom is saying true? Did he hold Tracy there?”

Ryan shifted his eyes between the both of us. “Late last night, police in Union County pulled Mr. Colter over for speeding. Do you know where Union County is?”

Abby nodded. “About seventy miles away.”

“When they ran him through the system, the warrant for the arson came up, so they took him in and called us. We collected him in the morning and brought him back here to have a little talk about the house fire. Let’s just say we caught a lucky break. Caitlin’s story has been in the news, so our officers have seen that composite sketch on an almost daily basis. One of our officers raised the question, and we put it together with the house with the room in the basement.”

He held his hands out. There you go.

After four years, a speeding ticket wrapped it up.

“What did he say?” Abby asked.

“Nothing yet. When we brought up Caitlin’s name, he said he’d read about her in the paper. But that’s it.”

“And witnesses?” Abby asked. “The girl from the club? Tracy? Is it true he took her too?”

“She’s gone,” I said.

Abby whipped her head toward me.

“She’s disappeared,” I said. And my voice was quieter, distant even to my own ears. “No one can find her. Not her mother, not Liann. Two weeks and no sign of her.”

“She’ll turn up,” Ryan said. “They usually do. Like I told you, that girl has problems, drug problems. She’s not reliable.”

“Who is this guy?” I asked. “What does he do?”

“He’s on disability. Some kind of knee injury. He used to work at the Hearn plant, but it’s been about ten years since he did that. He hasn’t been in much trouble with us. One assault arrest about fifteen years ago. Otherwise, nothing.”

“How old is he?” I asked.

“Fifty-three.”

The number stabbed me like a knife. Fifty-three. Older than me.