Silent Victim - By C. E. Lawrence Page 0,29

know, man—maybe I could have done something to prevent this. I just don’t believe it. How could this happen to her? What did she ever do to anybody?”

“You said before she thought she was being followed,” Butts reminded him. “Did she say anything more about that, like who it might be?”

Santiago ran a hand through his curly black hair, which glistened in the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the row of windows. Outside, Lee could see the water of the Delaware sparkling silver in waves of reflected light.

“She was real secretive about that. She said she’d uncovered some kind of childhood abuse or trauma or something. I got the sense that the doc had spooked her so much that she believed whoever it was had come back to get her.”

“So you didn’t really believe her?” Lee asked.

“Naw, man, I just thought it was that crazy doctor, filling her head with all kinds of nonsense. That’s the thing about Ana: she’s—she was gullible, you know? She was always looking for answers, and when someone came along who looked like they had them, man, she was right there, first in line to get wisdom. The thing was, she wasn’t always good at judging people, so she could get hurt.” He shook his head sadly. “I tried to protect her—I always told her to question people’s motives more, that kind of thing.”

“Like with Dr. Perkins?” Lee asked.

“Yeah. That’s why, when we had that fight on Friday, she was so angry at me—because I didn’t believe her. Jesus,” he said softly. “Do you think that’s who killed her—whoever was following her? I mean, do you think there really was someone following her?”

“It’s possible,” Lee said, “but even if there was, it’s also possible that her death was totally unrelated.”

“Oh, man, I’d never forgive myself if it turned out her crazy fantasy was true. I just thought it was another one of Dr. Perkins’s latest weirdo theories—and he had plenty of them, let me tell you.”

“Like what?” Butts asked.

“Oh, man, you name it. He had this whole thing about past lives, and all kinds of mystical crap.” He snorted in disgust. “I left that shit when I left California, man. I can’t believe

I ran back into it on the East Coast. There’s irony for you, huh?”

“Yeah, real ironic,” Butts replied. “Do you happen to have this guy’s contact number?”

“Yeah, it’s in my office. Just give me a second, okay?”

They followed him to the front of the building and waited in the foyer while he went into his office, emerging shortly with the number written on the back of an old menu.

“Here you go—he’s in Stockton, just the other side of the river in Jersey.”

“I know it,” Lee said, taking the number, which was scribbled in between the tenderloin of pork with sage dressing and the salmon mousse with dill sauce. “Thanks a lot.” He glanced at Butts. It was time to end this interview—they had what they came for.

“I—I guess I should talk to someone about a funeral,” Santiago said, gazing off toward the river. A hazy mist had settled over the sluggishly flowing water. “She had no family, you know. A lot of friends, but … I guess we were her family.”

“I think that would be a good idea, when you’re up to it,” Lee said.

They thanked Santiago and expressed their condolences again, leaving him a business card in case he remembered anything else. He followed them outside like a puppy, as if they were the last link to Ana and he was sorry to see them go. The last image Lee had in the rearview mirror was Santiago standing in front of the Black Bass, shielding his eyes from the sun with an upraised arm, looking after their car as it drove away.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Butts’s stomach couldn’t take any more fasting, so Lee drove to Dilly’s Corner, a hamburger and ice cream stand along the River Road where it met Coldspring Road. It had been a favorite of his and Laura’s when they were children, and was open all year round. It was very popular with tourists in the summer season, but also served as an after-school hangout for the local kids. As a boy Lee always thought it was cool being able to buy ice cream on a little country road in the middle of nowhere—the stand was several miles away from the nearest town.

As they sat at the wooden picnic table eating cheeseburgers and fries, Butts said, “You know, this place ain’t

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