Livia Lone (Livia Lone #1)(98)

“You won’t hurt me? You won’t kill me?”

“You and your brother. Fred. You wanted children to rape again, didn’t you? But not just any children. You already had that, on your ‘fact-finding’ trips to Thailand. No, you wanted sisters. Sisters who loved each other, who would do anything to protect each other. Like Ophelia and Becky. Like the good old days.”

He looked at her in horror.

“Yes,” she said. “I’m not a reporter, like Becky told you. I’m a cop. That’s what I became, after surviving your sick brother. Becky told me everything. And I know a lot on top of that. So what you tell me now better fit with what I already know. If it doesn’t—”

“It will. Just promise. You have to promise you won’t hurt me. Or kill me.”

“If you tell me the truth.”

“Swear. Swear on your sister.”

“All right. I swear on Nason. If you tell me the truth.”

A moment went by with nothing but the sound of his frantic breathing. Then he said, “I told you. Chanchai brought her to Washington. Well, to Maryland. Matthias hired discreet people to care for her. And, sometimes, he would bring her to me.”

He looked at her fearfully.

“It’s all right,” she said. “I swore. But only in exchange for the truth. Whatever it is.”

He nodded. “It wasn’t good. The state she was in . . . she wouldn’t come out of it.”

“It wasn’t good . . . you mean, she wouldn’t scream when you hurt her.”

Beads of sweat broke out along his brow. “Please,” he said. “Look at me. I’m an old man. And I’m sorry.”

“All I want is the truth. All of it. I swore on Nason, remember?”

He swallowed. “She wasn’t . . . she just wasn’t there. And there was nothing anyone could do. So Matthias . . . he . . .”

There was a pause. Then he said, “Matthias killed her. I’m sorry.”

She heard the words. But she couldn’t feel them yet.

“What did he do with her after he killed her?”

“He left her in Little Bennett Regional Park.”

“Was she found?”

“Yes. He wasn’t trying to hide her. It didn’t matter. There was no one who could identify her.”

Well, not no one, Livia thought, feeling strangely detached. There were the “discreet” people who had been “caring” for her. But why would they have ever known? Or given a damn, even if they did?

“When? When was she found?”

“This would have been . . . the fall after you arrived in Llewellyn. October.”

She’d always suspected Fred Lone was lying about having to protect Nason. Though apparently he had known where she was. Or rather, where she had wound up.

It didn’t matter. The state of Washington had protocols for the disposal of unclaimed bodies. She expected Maryland would be no different. It wasn’t what she had hoped for. But now that she was hearing it out loud, she realized she had always known, on some level, that it must be true.

Her little bird was gone. And she had been gone for a long time.

“Please,” he said. “I told you the truth. You swore.”

Livia nodded. “Yes. I did.”

She walked back to Redcroft’s room.

“Where are you going?” Lone called out. “What’s going on?”

She saw the Boker where Redcroft had thrown it. She picked it up and returned to the bed.

“All right,” she said. “Now there are a few things I guess I should tell you.”

He looked at her wordlessly, his eyes wide with fear.

“First, your brother didn’t have a heart attack. I killed him. Strangled him with my own hands, and looked into his desperate eyes while the life ebbed out of him. It’s funny, the things he used to do to me are some of my worst memories. But killing him? Making him die? That’s one of the best.”

The fear on his face was now tinged with horror.

“Second, I know how well the hotel is soundproofed. So well that no one would have heard those gunshots. Besides, your man Redcroft told me about your arrangements. The empty rooms adjacent and below. He said it was about security, but come on. We’re being honest with each other. We both know it was so no one could hear a child screaming in agony. And if no one could hear a child scream, why would anyone be able to hear you scream?”

He began to pant again. “Why are you saying that? You promised. You swore on Nason!”

“Third, do you really think a promise about my sister, who you tortured and raped and murdered, could control me the way threats about her controlled me when I thought she was alive?”

“Please!” he said, almost sobbing now. A dark patch began to spread on the sheets as his bladder let go. “Please, please, please, please, please!”

“Shhh,” she said. “Shhh. There’s a final thing. I want you to hear it.”

He looked at her, panting again, his eyes terrified.

“Becky wanted me to do something for her. As a favor.” She opened the Boker. “And you know what? I think I will. And not just for her. For Ophelia, too. And for Nason.”

Ezra Lone began to scream. It was a long time before he stopped.