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“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.
“Why have you kept this from me, Lisa? As recently as this week, when I came to your office and asked if you thought Dad was capable of committing the crimes, you talked around it, you dodged. You surmised. Conjectured.”
“Arden despises liars,” Ledge said.
“If I’ve lied,” Lisa shouted at him, “it was to protect my sister from the ugly truth.”
“It’s a lot uglier than you’re telling it,” he said.
“You’re a son of a bitch.”
“And you’re a liar.”
Arden divided a frustrated look between them. To Ledge, she said, “What is she lying about?”
He looked hard at Lisa.
She sucked in a harsh breath, wheezing as she exhaled and said to Arden, “Dad wasn’t the burglar. I was.”
Chapter 38
That night in 2000—Lisa
Hey, Ledge, why do you think it is that Joe doesn’t do his drinking here? Why doesn’t he give your uncle Henry his business? Do you reckon he thinks nobody knows he’s an alky?”
Rusty’s taunt was the last straw.
Refusing to give him the satisfaction of her coming back with an angry retort, Lisa opened the door behind the passenger seat where he sat. After getting out, she slammed the door hard, hoping that the impact would shake loose his teeth.
She resented like hell having that prick lording it over her. She figured he knew how much she hated it, which was why he never passed on an opportunity to rile her.
But really, what had she expected when she agreed to participate in this misadventure? Courtesy and respect? She’d sunk to the level of Rusty Dyle, that witless accountant, and a juvenile delinquent. If she hadn’t been desperate…
But she had. Her father had become increasingly inept and unreliable. He hadn’t held a job since being fired from Welch’s store. Judging by the number of calls and mailed notices from bill collectors, she knew their financial situation was rocky, but she hadn’t known the extent of their indebtedness until Rusty had enlightened her. With insufferable smugness, he had disclosed exactly how dire her family’s situation was.
He’d approached her on a windy weekday afternoon. After picking Arden up from school, she had dropped her at the public library to browse under the librarian’s watchful eye while she ran some errands. She’d been returning for her when Rusty had materialized out of nowhere directly in front of her, blocking her path on the sidewalk.
“Hey, hotshot.”
She hadn’t seen much of him since she had graduated high school, but of course she recognized him. One couldn’t miss that ridiculous haircut, and it was impossible to ignore someone as obnoxious as he. He wouldn’t allow anyone to ignore him.
“Hello, Rusty.”
She’d gone around him, but he’d fallen into step beside her. “How’s college?”
“Fine.”
