Take Me With You(107)

I wish I could articulate an answer. I can't even promise him I won't change my mind.

“Did you ever really know Sam?” I ask.

He lets out a huff. “At one point I would have said I did. Well, maybe not really knew him, but I understood a part of him. I can honestly say right now, I have no fucking idea who he is.”

I glance at a picture on his desk. His little family. So perfect. So normal.

I spot the young boy standing in front of the sheriff with an innocent smile adorning his cherubic face. “Wow, he looks just like Sam when he was little.”

Ridgefield's face tightens, like I've poked at a sore spot.

“Yeah, identical,” he laments. “Did you?”

“Did I what?” I ask.

“Ever really know him.”

“I think I did. It would be easier if I hadn't. It's hard to betray someone you know.”

He nods. “Or someone you thought you did.”

“So what did you want to tell me? Or did you just need reassurances?” I ask.

“Actually, I wanted to reassure you. This will all be over soon.”

“What do you mean?” I inquire, a knot of uneasiness bubbling in my stomach.

“Someone confessed to your kidnapping.”

“What?” I ask, in complete befuddlement.

He pulls a file and opens it, placing a picture in front of me. A dark-featured, middle-aged man stares back at me.

“The Northern Woods Killer,” he states, stabbing his finger onto the center of the decrepit man’s face.

“But it wasn't him. You know that.” As if the Sheriff needed to be told that.

“This will make it all go away. So that you don't have to worry about anything coming to haunt us.”

“I don't understand.”

“He's a serial rapist and killer. A trucker leaving vics and bodies all over the state. We have him in custody. He’s been linked to twenty-six bodies all over Northern California, and he's confessing to at least fifty.”

“Why would he? I don't understand.”

“He's agreed to give us information about additional crimes for a plea. Guys, they sometimes do that, they confess to a bunch of things. Sometimes for notoriety, sometimes to confuse us. But he has a small house that works for the scenario. He doesn’t have friends or family. It’s conceivable he could have had someone locked up and no one would have known. He told a good tale. He knew things only the kidnapper would know.”

“How?”

“There's ways when you're questioning…to plant seeds.”

“But he's innocent.”

“He's not innocent, Vesper. He killed over two dozen people. Innocent girls who never hurt anyone. The fucker signed a confession saying he took you. We can actually close this case. He'll be in jail until he dies anyway. So everyone can be satisfied this case was closed.”

“I don't understand. What about the other crimes?”

“You let me take care of that. There's gonna be some egg on my face, but nothing I can't salvage. Oh and Sam’s place is on the market now. I checked myself. Once it passes hands and new people move in and bring their stuff in, it’ll be impossible to retrieve untainted evidence.”

That last bit of news stings--the thought of Sam being truly gone. “This doesn't feel right.”

“This, right there,” he points a finger at me, “is what's going to give me a heart attack.”

I roll my eyes.

“Vesper, this man is a brutal murderer. He is a danger to society. And the disconcerting truth is, California is rife with these men. It's the Wild West out here sometimes. If I trump a charge on him, it's doing the world a favor.”

“Have you done that before?”

“Vesper, I promise you, never. But I'm in an impossible place. We can’t just seem satisfied with no answers. We both have to look like we want someone to pay for this. If we don’t close this case, I can’t keep stopping others from snooping around, finding something I couldn’t hide. And I want us all to move past this. You—” he leans in with a hushed tone. “You didn't want to turn him in. I never forced you.”

I'm glad I kept the box a secret. Something tells me if I handed it over, it would find its way into an incinerator. Suddenly Sheriff Ridgefield's constant need for reassurance worries me. I'm an inconvenient loose end and maybe Sam's not the only one capable of doing bad things.

“You're right. This works out perfectly. So we can all move on.”

“Vesper, I need you to understand. You've saved my family. If you need anything. If you want to leave and start over somewhere, or just need a hand, I have ways of helping.”

“I appreciate that,” I say, coming to my feet, feeling like the walls of this office are going to move in and crush me.

Sheriff leans back and crosses his arms holding a sly smirk. “So you’re really planning on never telling me?”

I pull my purse close to my side. “Telling you what?”

“How far along are you? You’re not showing, but Katie didn’t show with James until she was six months.”

“What?” I gasp.

“You’re protective of Sam. You wouldn’t let the doctors examine you, but they took your blood, urine. Did you think I wouldn’t know?”