Thick as Thieves(96)

She said, “I thought that by now Rusty would have given up the idea of regaining his booty.”

“He hasn’t,” Ledge said before Arden could speak. “She’s been in Rusty’s crosshairs from the day she moved back. If you know anything about how Joe wound up with the cash and made his escape, now would be the time to tell us.”

“Us? Whatever I tell my sister will be in private.”

“Nuh-uh,” he said. “I want to hear.”

“Anything relating to our father is between Arden and me.”

Arden said, “Lisa, Rusty has threatened to blame Hawkins’s murder on Ledge. He deserves to know what you know about that night. He stays.”

She relented. “All right. Where to start?” She took a sip of her soda, then began. “Directly after dinner, Dad left, saying he was going to the cemetery.”

“I remember.”

“You and I watched a movie. At bedtime, I tucked you in, secured the house, and went to my room. I worked on an assignment for one of my classes and didn’t go to bed until after Dad came back. That’s not when I saw him, though. He went straight to his room, I assumed to bed.”

“What time was that?” Ledge asked.

“I don’t remember,” she snapped. “At the time, I didn’t know it would be important to note.”

He stared back at her but made no further comment.

She continued. “Hours later, I woke up to a noise downstairs. I got up and checked your room. You were sound asleep. I came downstairs, and when I got here to the kitchen, I was stunned to see Dad. I thought he was still upstairs.

“But he hadn’t only left his room, he’d left the house without my being aware of it. His shoes were muddy, his pants legs were wet. Stickers and twigs were stuck in the fabric. He was also flushed and sweaty. He wouldn’t have returned from the cemetery that way.

“Then I noticed a canvas bag, sitting on the floor, just inside the door. ‘Where have you been?’ I asked. ‘What’s that?’ And he said, ‘That’s the cash stolen from Welch’s store tonight.’ Just like that.

“I thought for certain that I was having a nightmare. But, no, the basket of Easter eggs we had dyed was on the table. The faucet was dripping as it always was. I could smell the whiskey on Dad’s breath. All my senses were sharpened, exaggerated. As much as I wanted to deny that it was actually happening, it was all too real to be a dream.”

Ledge observed Arden. She sat rapt, barely breathing, taking in every word.

She said, “Ledge said that when the group split up, Rusty had the money. How did Dad get it from him?”

Lisa divided a look between them. “I can only tell you what Dad told me, which was that Brian Foster called him with a warning. Rusty was going to use Dad as a scapegoat. Foster told him that you,” she said, looking over a Ledge, “had been arrested for possession of marijuana, and Rusty feared that you would barter what you knew about the burglary in exchange for getting a walk on the drug charge.”

Arden held up a hand to signal a timeout. “So, all this time, not only did you know that Rusty was in on the burglary, you knew that Ledge was.”

He said, “She told you I was bad news.”

Lisa jerked her head around to look at him. “You always have been and continue to be. If you had stayed away from Arden, she wouldn’t have drawn Rusty’s attention.”

“If I’d stayed away from her, God knows what would have happened to her.”

“Stop it, you two,” Arden said. “Go back to that night, Lisa. To the phone call. What else did Foster tell Dad?”

“According to Dad, Foster was falling apart. Foster had agreed to meet Rusty and hide the money, but then he got cold feet. Dad persuaded him to keep that meeting so Rusty wouldn’t be tipped off to his betrayal.

“Hoping to prevent a bad situation from getting worse, Dad sneaked out of the house, walked to the cypress grove, and used that old boat of his to get to their meeting spot. But he didn’t make it in time. They were there ahead of him. Rusty was in a canoe. Foster was standing at the waterline.

“Dad overheard Foster—stupidly—inform Rusty that he’d told Dad everything, that basically the cat was out of the bag. With that, and just like that,” she said, snapping her fingers, “Rusty hit Foster with a paddle. Dad told me he thought that Rusty had killed him right then. Apparently Rusty thought so, too.”

She told them about Foster’s rising up out of the water and pulling Rusty out of his canoe. “Dad said their fight was brutal. Foster held out for as long as he could, but he never really stood a chance.” Softly she added, “Certainly not against the alligators.”

None of them said anything for a moment; then Lisa continued. “During the fight, Rusty’s canoe had drifted close to where Dad was hiding in his boat. He spotted the bag lying in the bottom of the canoe. He snatched it and rowed away.”

“Rusty didn’t see him?” Ledge asked.

“There was no indication that he did. Dad said he didn’t go across open water, but stayed close to the shoreline, in the shadows, under trees. He knew every square foot of this lake, all the bayous. Even pickled, he could find his way.”

For a ponderous time, no one said anything. Arden didn’t stir, then she got up suddenly and rounded her chair, placing her hands on the back of it as though to keep a grip on her temper. She was seething.