"Just someone I used to work with," he said, thinking of Gibbons. He didn't want to make up any more lies, but he couldn't tell her the truth right now. They were about to arrive at her mother's house, and the way Madison kept fidgeting with her purse strap told him she was nervous about what they might encounter. He'd wait until later, when he had her complete attention and plenty of time to convince her that last night was never part of his plan.
"When?" she asked.
"A couple of years ago."
"When you lived on Fidalgo?"
He cleared his throat. "No, I was just divorced and living in Seattle." He launched into another subject before she could press him for more details. "What do you think your mother will do if she finds out about Johnny staying in the garage?"
"She'll be furious with me for not kicking him out."
"But you didn't give Johnny permission to move in, did you?"
"No, his being there came as a complete surprise to me. But I should've made him leave right away instead of giving him time."
"He might not have taken too kindly to that," Caleb said.
"I know. I was a little uncomfortable confronting him. But I can't show the house if he's living there, and my mother's getting really anxious to move."
Caleb wondered if Annette had taken those panties and shoes. And that locket. Lately he went back and forth about whether or not Ellis Purcell was really the Sandpoint Strangler. Susan's murder was too similar to the others to be a new killer, but what about the sightings of Purcell's truck at the scene of two of the previous murders? Either way, Caleb longed to know for sure--at last. He wanted to find out how the strangler had done what he'd done and managed to get away with it.
But whether or not Caleb ever learned the truth, Purcell's story was one he'd never write. He knew now that he would never capitalize on his relationship with Madison that way.
Reaching across the seat, he let his fingers close around hers. "Whatever's waiting for us at your mother's, we'll work it out," he said, and hoped his words would prove prophetic about the future in general.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THE GARAGE WAS EMPTY. Madison couldn't tell if Johnny was still living there or not. If he'd moved on, he certainly hadn't cleaned up after himself.
Caleb was in front of her. He'd insisted on going in first, and stood with his hands on his hips, surveying the mess. They'd entered from the alley so her mother wouldn't know they'd arrived. The autumn sun, streaming in behind them, warmed Madison's back, but she still didn't like the building's shadowy corners.
"What are you going to tell your mother about the broken window?" Caleb asked, using one foot to shove the glass into some semblance of a pile.
Madison frowned at the glittering shards on the cement. "Nothing. She won't come out here, so I don't have to worry about her seeing it before I have it replaced. I'm only trying to make sure a prospective buyer doesn't run into Johnny and mention him to her."
"How do you know she won't walk out here with someone who's taking a look at the yard?"
"Easy." She motioned toward the workshop and had to take a deep breath to be able to finish what she was about to say. "That's where my father shot himself."
The gravity in Caleb's gaze when it shifted to her face let her know that pumping her voice full of bravado hadn't concealed the fact that her father's suicide still hurt. If you'd loved someone who took his or her own life, did you ever really get over it? Did you ever get over the feeling of waste and betrayal?
"I'm sorry," he said. "You told me he'd shot himself in the backyard, or I'd read it somewhere, but I didn't realize it had happened in here."
She stared through the open door to the workshop, remembering the roar of the ball games her father had always listened to when he was there. "I never dreamed he'd be the type. My father made his share of mistakes, of course, especially when he was young. But he seemed so...stable. When I knew him, anyway."
"The investigation put him under a lot of pressure," Caleb pointed out.
She hiked her purse higher on her shoulder. "It upset him, sure. But not like it upset my mother and me."
"Maybe he just didn't let it show."
"That's what some people say. They assume he believed the police were about to arrest him and make him pay for his crimes. I..." She bit her lip and shook her head.
"You what?"
"I disagree. He didn't think the police were that close to an arrest. The D.A. was still refusing to prosecute because he didn't believe the state had a strong enough case."
"So why would your father do what he did?"
She shook her head again. "I guess he was just tired of the fight, or..." The ideas that had been percolating in her mind ever since Tye's visit bubbled to the forefront. "Or maybe he learned something he couldn't face."
"Like..."
"Maybe he stumbled on that box of underwear and shoes, found that locket and figured it had to be Tye who was killing those women."
Caleb walked back to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "I realize it can't be easy to think your father could have committed such horrendous acts, Maddy. But I'm pretty sure Tye wasn't to blame."
"Why not?"
He seemed to search for the right words. "There's never been any evidence that it was him. At least that I've heard."
"What about the stuff in that box? He had access to my father's truck and...and the house, and he knows the area because he's lived here. He's also much angrier than my father ever was. As much as I'd rather not admit this, I could actually imagine him hurting someone. But the police have never even considered him."
"That you know of," he said.
"I don't think they ever really investigated anyone but my father."
"There must be a reason they kept coming back to him."
Madison sensed that Caleb was trying to be understanding, but she didn't feel he was listening to her with an open mind. "Finding that box is about the only scenario I can imagine that would make my father do something so...permanent," she said. "For one thing, he wouldn't willingly leave my mother. They were close, and she depended on him. He lived to take care of her. The last thing he did was sell the old car he'd been restoring so she'd have plenty of cash on hand. And...he loved me and Brianna. He wouldn't have wanted to do something that would hurt us, too."
"Madison, you're searching for reasons to explain a reality that's very painful for you. It's a natural reaction, and I understand how you feel, but--"