My Sister's Grave (Tracy Crosswhite, #1)(97)

“No,” Calloway said. “Not this kind of guilt.”



Edmund House sat on the generator box. The light over his head crackled and emitted a low hum. “It’s sort of ironic, isn’t it?”

“What?” Tracy asked.

“All this time has passed and here we are, finally.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you and me, here.” He spread his arms, grinning. “I built this for you.”

She hesitated, looking about the room. “What?”

“Well, the Cedar Grove Mining Company did most of the work, but I put in the little home touches like the carpet and the bed and the bookshelves. I knew you liked to read. I know it doesn’t look like much now, but things go to hell when you don’t keep up with the spring cleaning for twenty years.” He smiled. “Honestly, I’m surprised it’s still here, just as I left it. They never found it.”

“I didn’t even know you, House.”

“But I knew you. I’d been studying everything about you from the moment I arrived in Cedar Grove and saw you at the high school. I used to go and watch the kiddies get out of school, and then one day out you walked surrounded by all these students. At first I thought you were one of them but then I could tell by the way you carried yourself that you were more mature.

“I knew from that moment that you were the one. I’d never had a teacher before, though I’d fantasized about a few. And I’d never had a blonde. After I saw you, I made a point of driving by in the afternoon when school got out. I needed to find out what kind of car you drove. But you can’t park around a school too often without some nosy neighbor cluing in. Once I figured out you drove the Ford truck, I’d just look for it in the faculty parking lot, and if it wasn’t there I’d drive into town. You used to go into that coffee shop and correct tests. I was there once, drinking a cup of coffee. If you weren’t at the coffee shop I’d drive out of town past your house and see if the truck was parked in the driveway.

“I found a spot up the road where I had a better view of your bedroom window. Some nights I’d watch for hours. I liked the way you used to get out of the shower and look out your bedroom window with your hair wrapped in a towel like a turban. I knew what we had was special, even though you started dating that guy. Never did see what you saw in him, or why you’d move from that big old mansion to that shitty house. He complicated things, always being around. I couldn’t just walk up to your front door or wait inside the house for you. I realized I was going to have to create my own opportunity. That’s when I got the idea of messing with your truck so it’d break down.”

The thought that House had been watching her made Tracy’s skin crawl, but House’s mention of the truck raised another, more sickening possibility. Sarah had been driving Tracy’s truck that night. She looked to the black Stetson on the shelf.

“Threw me for a loop first time I saw your sister,” House said. “She came into the coffee shop one time while you were working, snuck up behind you, and covered your eyes. I thought I was seeing double.”

“You thought she was me that night.”

House stood, pacing. “How could I not? Shit, it was like that Doublemint gum commercial with the twins. You guys even dressed alike. ”

Though the cave was bone cold, Tracy had broken out in a sweat.

“When I saw the truck on the side of the road and then saw her walking in the rain, alone, wearing that black hat, I thought for sure it was you. Imagine my surprise when I got out of the truck and realized it wasn’t. I was disappointed at first. I even contemplated just driving her home. But then I thought, hell, I’d gone to all that effort. And who was to say I couldn’t have you both.”

Tracy slumped against the wall, her legs weak.

“And now I have.”

“You didn’t bury her. That’s why we couldn’t find her.”

“Not right away. That would have been a waste. But I couldn’t have her escaping like Annabelle Bovine.” House’s jaw clenched and his face went dark. “That bitch cost me six years of my life.” He pointed to his temple. “A smart man learns from his mistakes, and I had six years to contemplate how to do a better job the next time. We had some good times here, your sister and me.”

Sarah disappeared August 21, 1993. The Cedar Falls Dam had gone online in mid-October. An acidic burn inched up the back of Tracy’s throat. Her stomach lurched and cramped and she bent over, retching.

“But that * Calloway kept pressing me. When he told me about the witness, about Hagen, I knew it was just a matter of time. A man like that has no integrity. It’s disappointing isn’t it? I imagine you must have felt the same disappointment in your father.”

She spit bile from her mouth and looked up at him. “Fuck you, House.”

His smile broadened. “I’ll bet your father never imagined that someday I’d use the jewelry and pieces of hair he used to frame me to get out of that hellhole, or that you’d be the one to help me do it.”

“I didn’t do it to help you.”

“Don’t be that way, Tracy. At least I never lied to you.”

“What are you talking about? This whole thing was a lie.”

“I told you they framed me. I told you they manufactured the evidence. I never once said I was innocent.”