It's One of Us(106)

“Not at all. It’s about Annie Cottrell and Melanie Rich.”

She can swear he flinches at the names.

“I just need to hear you say it.”

“I didn’t kill them,” he replies automatically.

“That’s what I told Perry. But he’s pretty upset by some new information he’s found out.”

Park pours another cup, cool as can be.

“Like what?”

“Like you went to St. Louis a few weeks back?”

To her utter shock, he doesn’t deny it. “Yeah.”

“What else have you lied about, Park?”

“Are we doing this now? Here?” He gestures to the kitchen, as if this isn’t the perfect place for them to talk. Their lives were torn in the kitchen of their home. It seems only fitting the final rips should come in another.

“There’s a spot off the living room I’m making into an outdoor eat-in. We can sit there.”

The morning is already warming up, but the roof hasn’t been removed here yet. She’s complementing the outdoor living room with a full dining area feeding off the kitchen to the deck, a massive loggia. Open the glass doors, let the outside in. The new chairs are still covered in industrial-grade plastic, but Park lounges on one, feet up, as if he hasn’t a care in the world. Perry joins them, taking the other. Olivia perches on the thick wooden railing.

“You have to fill me in on what you think you know,” Park says to Perry. “I’m a little lost.”

Perry is grinding his teeth; she can see the muscle jumping in his jaw.

“All right. Erica Pearl came to me a few weeks ago.” He lays out the story for Park, not accusingly, trying to be open. “I’d like to hear the truth from you. Tell me what really happened.”

Park nods once, almost to himself.

“I didn’t kill Annie. But I found her.”

The words linger in the air, an admission so heinous that Olivia realizes she isn’t breathing.

“You found her?” Perry asks incredulously. “Was she dead?”

“Yes, she was dead.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone? My God, Park.”

“I couldn’t. If I was the one who found her, everything they’d been saying was true. I didn’t kill her, you know I didn’t. When I found her...it had been a while since she disappeared. She was decomposed, bones already showing. I didn’t know what to do. If I went to Mom and Dad, they’d go to the police. No one would have believed me. Everyone was accusing me of hurting her, of lying. To be the one who found her? Even as a boy, I understood how the mob worked. I couldn’t take the chance.”

“So you did what, exactly?” Perry asks.

“I buried her.”

“You were ten. We were ten. How?”

“I was walking back from practice—I think you had a cold, and you hadn’t played that day. I cut through the field and practically tripped on her. She was mostly buried, but parts of her were sticking up out of the ground.”

“You knew it was her?” Olivia asks.

“She was wearing a red T-shirt the day she went missing. I could see the fabric, wrapped around her neck.”

“And then what?” Perry is pale but composed.

Park shrugs. “It had rained a lot that week. The ground was soft. There was a hole by the opening to the ditch. It was really deep. I think it was an old well. I put her down the hole and covered it with dirt. It started to rain, so I stood in the field and let the water wash me clean before I went home.”

“Jesus.” Perry’s face is white as bone, but Park’s is flushed.

“I felt terrible. Sick. I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell Mom and Dad. But I couldn’t. Every time I tried... And the neighbors were being so awful. Mom and Dad sent me to therapy, and the therapist told me it wasn’t healthy to hold on to the secrets. But I never admitted that I’d buried her. I’ve let that eat me up inside for decades.”

“Why now?” Perry asks.

“The draft manuscripts that were stolen. One of the plots is about a kid missing for years who’s found in a well by a baseball field. I was stupid to write it, stupid. I wouldn’t have let it be published, obviously. I would have edited out those details. But now... I was afraid someone would put it together, and I went... I don’t know, I wanted to see if things were still obscured, I guess. And then all this craziness happened, and the reporter dragged me into it when she asked about St. Louis during the interview. After all we’ve been through, after all Olivia and I have lost, I realized it was time to give Annie’s parents some peace.”

Perry is looking at his brother with horror etched on his face.

“You just now figured that out?”

“You have to understand, they would have sent me to jail.”

“Maybe they should have,” Perry says darkly, his voice raw with emotion and loathing, and Olivia holds up a hand.

“So you called the tip line?” she asks. She is determined to get to the end of the story before Perry blows up entirely.

“Yeah. Crime Stoppers. Untraceable. I used a burner I bought in St. Louis and got rid of it immediately.”

“Good to know your job has given you the ability to avoid detection in a criminal investigation,” Perry says.