“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.”

“Gee, you’re almost halfway through already.”

“After this semester.”

“I’ll bet you’re making straight A’s.”

“I’m holding my own.”

“Must be tough, keeping up your grades and making that commute every day.”

How he’d known that she commuted was a mystery, but she hadn’t wanted to prolong the conversation by asking him for an explanation. “Nice seeing you, but I’ve got to dash.” She’d lengthened her stride in an attempt to outdistance him, but he’d kept pace.

“Heard your old man got canned again.”

That brought her to a halt. “What do you know about it, and what’s it to you?”

“Ouch! The claws come out.” He’d curled his fingers and pawed the air like a scratching cat.

“You always were and always will be an asshole, Rusty.”

She’d tried to continue on her way, but he’d caught her by the elbow. “Don’t turn your back on me, smarty pants.”

She’d yanked her arm free. “I don’t care if your daddy is the damn governor, I’ll scream this town down if you ever touch me again.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He’d made an elaborate show of taking several steps back. “I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot with you. Not since we’re going to be business partners and all.”

“Business partners?”

“That’s right. We’ve got a lot to talk about, you and me.”

“Guess again.”

“Your first meeting with me is tonight.”

“Are you out of your mind? I’m not meeting you tonight or at any other time.”

“Oh, you will. You will tonight. You can’t afford to miss this meeting.” He’d leaned to one side to look beyond her toward the library. “You must’ve kept her waiting too long. I made note of the time when you dropped her off.”

Lisa had turned to see Arden standing just outside the entrance to the building, the librarian watching from behind the glass. Arden had been holding a stack of books against her chest. She’d waved. Lisa had waved back, but it had been a conditioned reflex. She was thinking about Rusty’s last statement. When she’d turned back to face him, he’d given her an insolent smile.