The Boy from the Woods(68)

“And Crash is one of the most popular boys,” Hester said.

“Yes.”

“So maybe the popular boy suddenly has a thing for the ostracized girl.”

“Sounds like a bad teen rom-com,” Delia said with a shrug. “Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Maybe even his bullying her—”

“My son didn’t bully her.”

“—or whatever you want to call it. Maybe it was like that little boy in the playground who pulls the girl’s pigtails because he likes her.”

Delia didn’t like that. “That little boy usually grows up to be a sociopath.”

“What’s on those tapes, Delia?”

The change of subject caught Delia Maynard off guard. That was the purpose, of course. Hester was studying her face, looking for the tell. She thought she saw one. Not one hundred percent sure. Hester had been questioning people for a very long time. More than most, she could see a lie, but those who claimed to be “foolproof” were, to quote half of the word, usually the fools.

“There’s nothing important,” Delia said.

“Then contact the FBI.”

“We can’t.”

“Which suggests that you have something to hide. Sorry, I’m not great with subtle, so let me get right to it: I think you’re lying. Worse, you’re lying to me. So let me make this clear. I don’t care what you’re hiding or what’s on those tapes. If I know about it and I’m your attorney? It stays secret.”

Delia smiled but there was no humor in it. “Always?”

“Always.”

“No matter what?”

“No matter what.”

Delia crossed the room and looked out the window. The view was spectacular, but it didn’t seem to be bringing Delia Maynard much peace or comfort or joy. “I told you I watched your show the other night. When Saul Strauss was on.”

“What about it?”

“Strauss started to raise the ‘if you could have stopped Hitler’ speculation. You cut him off.”

“Of course I did,” Hester said. “It’s utter nonsense on a thousand levels.”

“So let’s say hypothetically I knew something that could have stopped Hitler—”

“Oh please—”

“—and I confide it to you under attorney-client privilege.”

“Would I tell?” Hester said. “No.”

“Even if it means letting Hitler rise to power?”

“Yes, but it’s a dumb hypothetical,” Hester said. “I don’t want to get too deep into this, but have you read much on the Hitler paradox? In short, if you went back in time and killed baby Hitler, the changes may be so massive that everything would change, almost every birth thereafter, and so you and I wouldn’t be here. But that’s not why this is dumb. It’s dumb because I can’t read the future or go back in time. The future is all conjecture—none of us have a clue what it will be like. So I can tell you that whatever your grave secret is, I won’t tell. No matter what. Because I don’t know if it will really stop the next Hitler. I also don’t know if stopping the next Hitler is even desirable. Maybe if I stopped Hitler, a more competent psycho would have risen instead—after those German scientists developed a nuclear bomb. Maybe it would have gone even worse. Do you see what I’m saying?”

“I do,” Delia said. “There are too many variables. You may think you’re stopping a slaughter—and end up creating a bigger one.”

“Exactly. I’ve heard some horrible confessions in this job. Gruesome, terrible…” Hester closed her eyes for a moment. “And maybe the world would have been better if I broke my oath. But only on a micro level. Justice for that family maybe. Preventing another tragedy and even worse. But in the end, I have to believe in the system, flawed though it may be.”

Delia nodded slowly. “There’s nothing on those tapes.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am. There are some things Rusty’s enemies may try to use against him. But there is no smoking gun.”

“Okay then,” Hester said. Her phone buzzed. She saw a text from Wilde:

My security people will be there within the half hour.



Delia was about to make another call. Hester watched her for a moment. Delia felt the eyes on her and looked up. “What?” Delia said.

“Let me add one caveat to the above,” Hester said, “mother to mother.”

“Okay.”

“If it meant saving my son, I’d talk.”

Delia didn’t move.

“I’d scream, I’d shout, I’d reveal everything. That’s where all our paradox theories would go out the window. If I could go back in time, if I could reveal a truth and it would bring my son back to me, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Do you understand?”

“I think so.”

Hester’s eyes stayed dry as she nodded and turned away.





CHAPTER

TWENTY-SEVEN



The team from Wilde’s old security firm pulled up in two vehicles.

The first car was a forest-green Honda Odyssey minivan. The driver was Rola Naser, the firm’s founder. When Rola opened the car door, Wilde could hear her kids screeching from the backseat. The radio was blasting out a Wiggles tune about fruit salad being yummy.