it."
I still said nothing. "And now you expect me to tell you everything. Would you? If you were in my position, would you tell everything you knew?" I took a second, gathered my thoughts. She had a point. "So you saw those articles?"
"Yes."
"Then you know that I was at that camp that summer."
"I do."
"And you know that my sister disappeared that night too."
She nodded.
I turned to her. "That's why I'm here."
"You're here to avenge your sister?"
"No," I said. "I'm here to find her."
"But I thought she was dead. Wayne Steubens murdered her."
"That was what I used to think."
Raya turned away for a moment. Then she looked right through me. "So what did you lie about?" "Nothing." The eyes again. "You can trust me," she said.
I do.
She waited. I waited too.
"Who is Lucy?"
"She's a girl who was at the camp."
"What else? What's her connection to this?"
"Her father owned the camp," I said. Then I added, "She was also my girlfriend at the time."
"And how did you both lie?"
"We didn't lie."
"So what was Manolo talking about?" "Damned if I know. That's what I'm trying to find out." "I don't understand. What makes you so sure your sister is alive?" "I'm not sure," I said. "But I think there's a decent enough chance." "Why?" "Because of Manolo." "What about him?" I studied her face and wondered if I was getting played here. "You clammed up before when I mentioned the name Gil Perez," I said. "His name was in those articles. He was killed that night too." "No," I said. "I don't understand." "Do you know why Manolo was looking into what happened that night?" "He never said." "Weren't you curious?" She shrugged. "He said it was business." "Raya," I said. "Manolo Santiago wasn't his real name." I hesitated, seeing if she would jump in, volunteer something. She didn't. "His real name," I went on, "was Gil Perez." She took a second to process this. "The boy from the woods?" "Yes." "Are you sure?" Good question. But I said, "Yes," without any hesitation. She thought about it. "And what you're telling me now-if it's true-was that he was alive this whole time." I nodded. "And if he was alive..." Raya Singh stopped. So I finished it for her. "Maybe my sister is too." "Or maybe," she said, "Manolo-Gil, what ever you call him - killed them all."
Strange. I hadn't thought of that. It actually made some sense. Gil kills them all, leaves evidence he was a victim too. But was Gil clever enough to pull something like that off? And how do you explain Wayne Steubens?
Unless Wayne was telling the truth...
"If that's the case," I said, "then I'll find that out."
Raya frowned. "Manolo said you and Lucy were lying. If he killed them, why would he say something like that? Why would he have all this paperwork and be looking into what happened? If he did it, he would know the answers, wouldn't he?"
She crossed the room and stood directly in front of me. So damn young and beautiful. I actually wanted to kiss her.
"What aren't you telling me?" she asked.
My cell phone rang. I glanced at the caller ID. It was Loren Muse. I hit the On button and said, "What's up?" "We got a problem," Muse said. I closed my eyes and waited. "It's Chamique. She wants to recant."
My office is in the center of Newark. I keep hearing that there is a revitalization going on in this city. I don't see it. The city has been decaying for as long as I can remember. But I have gotten to know this city well. The history is still there, beneath the surface. The people are wonderful. We as a society are big on stereotyping cities the way we do ethnic groups or minorities. It is easy to hate them from a distance. I remember Jane's conservative parents and their disdain for all things gay. Her college roommate, Helen, unbeknownst to them, was gay. When they met her, both her mother and father simply loved Helen. When they learned Helen was a lesbian, they still loved her. Then they loved her partner.
That was how it often was. It was easy to hate gays or blacks or Jews or Arabs. It was more difficult to hate individuals. Newark was like that. You could hate it as a mass, but so many neighborhoods and shopkeepers and citizens had a charm and strength that you couldn't help but be drawn in and care