“That is hundreds of calories a bite. I’ll stick with the fruit.”
“Which is all sugar,” Sara said. “Might as well be eating cane sugar with a spoon. You should—”
The doorbell rang.
“Thank you, Lord!” Jack said. “Saved from hearing more about fructose and grams of carbs. If this guy gets too boring, tell him about the glycemic index. He’ll leave before you even get to the horror of foods that grow underground. The evil of carrots!”
“That’s what I have to put up with,” Sara said as she got up to answer the door, but she was smiling as she left the room.
“I guess we better go.” Jack stood up and finished his beer. “Are you going to play Little Miss Hostess again?”
“Only if you do your bad-boy act and try to start a fight.”
“Deal.”
They went inside the house to the living room.
Sheriff Flynn and Sara were with a tall man of Cuban descent who was wearing a suit. He was in his forties, looked to be in good shape, and he was holding a laptop computer and a file folder. From the way he stood in front of Flynn, the man was clearly the boss.
“This is Detective Cotilla,” Sara said, her face serious as he reached out to shake hands with Jack and Kate.
Cotilla turned back to Sara. “I just want to say, ma’am, that my wife loves your books. I think she has all of them. I had to build a bookcase just to hold your novels.”
“Thank you.” Sara managed a small smile.
“I guess we should get to it. Could we sit down?” the detective asked. “I have things to show you.”
“Would anyone like something to drink?” Kate asked. “We have—”
“No, thanks,” Detective Cotilla said. “We won’t take a lot of your time.” He and Daryl sat on one of the blue sofas, while Jack, Sara and Kate sat across from them on the other one.
The detective put the computer on the table and opened the file folder. “District Chief Edison—I believe that, locally, he was referred to as ‘Captain’—kept excellent records and we pulled all of them.” He looked at Jack with an intense stare. “You were quite young, so I doubt if you know all of what went on.”
“Some of it,” Jack said. He was leaning against the cushions, his arms spread across the back, looking as though he hadn’t a care in the world. But Kate was close enough that she felt him tense up.
Detective Cotilla held up the folder. “I have copies of the reports that Captain Edison wrote about your case.”
“My case?” Jack asked.
“The one your father filed about you,” Detective Cotilla clarified.
Jack didn’t reply, just nodded.
Daryl Flynn was watching in silence, a smile on his face that was very near to being a smirk.
“Everything is from the summer of 1997. The first report is of Roy Wyatt accusing Cheryl Morris of molesting his eleven-year-old son.”
Again, Jack nodded, but he said nothing.
Sara took the paper and Kate leaned toward her to read it. It was written in the police procedural way, telling only the facts, but it managed to convey Roy’s anger. Jack had told the same story, but this time, the sympathy went to Roy. He was portrayed as an angry man who was looking out for the well-being of his young son.
Sara handed the paper to Jack, but he didn’t take it. She put it on the table.
The second report told of Captain Edison going to the site with a very agitated boy, Jack Wyatt, to check on his “girlfriend.” The report told of the house having been cleaned out, as though the tenants had left in a hurry. There was mention of the boy’s distress and it was noted that, contrary to what the father had said, the boy didn’t seem to have been abused.
“He wasn’t abused,” Kate said. Jack wasn’t defending himself and Sara was silent, so she spoke up.
But Sara put her hand on her niece’s arm. “What else do you have?”
