Thick as Thieves(100)

He gave her a baleful look but didn’t comment.

She went back to Arden. “I was afraid that you would wake up and be terrified. Not even taking time to dress, I ran downstairs in my pajamas and answered the door. It wasn’t men in uniform. It was Rusty, and he was a wreck. His clothes were filthy. He was all banged up and in obvious pain. He couldn’t even stand upright, but he barged in, ranting, demanding to know where Dad was, threatening to kill him.

“I had to pretend to be shocked by his appearance, pretend not to know about his fierce fight with Foster and how it ended. I kept asking him what had happened to him, who had beaten him up, what had Dad to do with anything.

“He said, ‘Foster told your old man about the burglary. He knew where I was going to meet Foster. He hoodwinked both of us and took the money. Where is he?’ He told me that when he found Dad, he was going to kill him, and I believed him.

“He pushed me aside and hobbled into the kitchen here. There were Dad’s fresh muddy footprints, and a wet patch on the floor where the bag had been. I gaped at them as though I didn’t understand what they signified.

“Actually, at that point in time, I didn’t,” she said with a wry grimace. “I thought maybe Dad had seen Rusty’s car coming toward the house and had sneaked out. Something like that. I was glad that he and the money were safe from this crazy person ranting at me. He went out the back door and into the garage. I followed, fearing Dad would be cowering in there. But he was nowhere to be found. Rusty was relentless, saying he was going to find him if he had to tear the place apart.

“When we came back inside, he went from room to room. I kept trying to distract him by asking how he’d been injured. He was grunting and groaning in pain, but he dragged himself upstairs. He looked into your room,” she said to Arden, “with me begging him not to wake you. If you had woken up and seen him in his condition, you would have been traumatized.”

“No doubt,” Arden said caustically.

Lisa plowed on. “Rusty searched in my room. That left only Dad’s bedroom. It was empty. But what struck me then was that Rusty’s muddy footprints on the stairs and along the hall were the only ones in any part of the house, other than those there by the back door.

“Dad had come no farther into the house than just inside the kitchen door where I had last seen him, remorseful, wringing his hands, tears in his eyes. The bag of money at his feet. It was then that I began to get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.”

Lisa seemed to lapse into the memory. Ledge and Arden glanced at each other. He asked, “What was Rusty’s reaction to finding him gone?”

Lisa roused herself. “He was like a man possessed. He pointed out to me that Dad’s car was still in the garage, that my car was in the drive. He kept asking how he could have gotten away. I didn’t dare mention the boat. But I did ask about Foster.”

“And their secret meeting,” Ledge said.

She nodded. “In that reeking ditch, Rusty had emphasized that we should act like virtual strangers if we saw each other. Why had he gone against his own advice and arranged to see Foster that same night?”

“How did he answer?”

“He didn’t. But it was like I’d given him an electric shock treatment.”

“He realized he needed to establish an alibi,” Ledge said. “He went to Crystal.”

“I didn’t know about that,” Lisa said. “Nor did I care. I just wanted him out of this house. He left with threats ringing in my ears. He warned me never to tell about any of it. He also said that if he ever discovered I was in cahoots with ‘my old man,’ he would kill me. Then he limped out of here.”

“What did you do after he left?” Arden asked.

“Collapsed where I stood. I tried to absorb the shock of it all and figure out what I should do. My first priority was to protect you from what had already happened, and from whatever might be coming. After pulling myself together, I cleaned up the floors and straightened things Rusty had disturbed. By the time you woke up, everything looked normal.”

“Except that Dad didn’t come down for breakfast. You sent me up to his room, knowing that he wasn’t there.”

“I kept waiting for him to walk through the back door and explain his disappearance.” She looked at the back door and gave a humorless laugh. “To this day, I’m still waiting.”

She took a moment, then continued. “You and I baked our cake and had our Easter dinner, but you were dejected because Dad wasn’t here. You asked to go to the cemetery, and I took you. Dad actually had gone the night before. There was a fresh arrangement of flowers on Mom’s grave. I resented that pathetic gesture.

“If he had loved her as much as he professed, if he loved us so much, why had he left me to deal with Rusty alone? When he did slink back, I looked forward to calling him a gutless coward to his face. You see, I was still under the delusion that his abandonment was temporary.”

She sighed. “On Monday, detectives from the sheriff’s office came. It was clear from the outset that Dad was suspected of both the burglary and complicity in Foster’s death. Can you imagine what it was like to be interrogated by Rusty’s father? I wanted to blurt out what his psychotic son had done to poor, spineless Brian Foster. But I was afraid that if I breathed a word, Rusty would make good on his promise to harm you. Based on what you’ve told me about recent events, I still have reason to fear that. As you do,” she said, looking over at Ledge.