“That definitely sounds like Ruck,” Logan says. He glances over to check my reaction. I nod in agreement—because the description is dead-on.
“I agree,” Halligan says. “And since we know now that Ruck assaulted another woman that weekend, it would be an extraordinary coincidence if Melanie had been attacked two nights earlier—and a mile and a half away—by someone with the same MO but who wasn’t Ruck.”
“So?” Logan says. “You’ve decided that Ruck killed Mel, just as we’ve always believed?”
“Yes,” Halligan says soberly. “I managed to speak to the analyst late yesterday, and she’s of the same mind.”
It’s what I’ve been praying for since I boarded the plane from Uruguay, but before I can stop them, David Schmidt’s words about Ruck echo in my mind: “He wanted credit where it was due and not where it wasn’t.”
I lean in toward the table. “And he lied to his lawyer about Melbecause...?”
“As the analyst pointed out, even when these bastardsdoconfess, they sometimes try to manipulate investigators.”
“But what about the inconsistencies you brought up on Monday?” I say. “How do we now explain those away?”
“As the three of us discussed, Ruck might have been interrupted by a noise when he was attacking your daughter, but the woman I spoke to offered an additional theory. Serial killers like Ruck generally keep a homicidal fantasy going in their heads, and they need everything they do to match it. But something might not have gone as planned forRuck in Pebble Creek Park and so he abandoned parts of his MO. That would explain why there was no sexual assault and no postmortem bite to any of Melanie’s fingers. It might even explain why he felt compelled to attack another woman two nights later—so he could make things right this time.”
My pulse is racing now. I long to surrender the doubts Halligan raised on Monday, but for some reason, I’m still resisting, still hearing Schmidt’s words.
“And there’s no chance at all that Ruck attacked Riley but someoneelsekilled Mel?”
“Like I said, it would be such a huge coincidence.”
“But what if—what if it wasn’t a total coincidence? What if someone Melknewhad gotten wind of what happened to Sailor Abbott and tried to make Mel’s murder seem like the work of a serial killer? And that person got lucky when Ruck was arrested.”
I’m thinking about Jack, the rejected boyfriend. And even Handler, who might have been Mel’s lover.
I see Logan straighten in his chair. Does he think I’m sounding like a lunatic, or at the very least beating a dead horse?
“A copycat is always worth considering, but I double-checked with Plattsburgh, and the crime scene details from Sailor Abbott’s case—like the use of a dog leash—were kept tightly under wraps until well after Ruck’s arrest.”
I sigh, sinking into my chair. So Iambeating a dead horse—into a bloody pulp. And I’ve got nothing else to add. Logan drums his fingers on the table.
“That’s it, then?” he asks.
“I’d say yes. It might not bring a lot of comfort, but I believe your daughter’s killer was apprehended and died in prison.”
“Okay, thank you, Brian,” Logan says. “We appreciate everything you’ve done.”
“Do you think Riley will be okay?” I ask. I don’t want to lose sight of her in the middle of this.
“I hope so,” Halligan says. “I think she’s felt good getting the truth off her chest.”
He signs off then, wishing us the best. For a few seconds I sit motionless in my chair, absorbing what I’ve learned. I came here for the truth, and Halligan says we now have it.
Which means it’s time to go home.
Chapter 22
“So?” Logan asks, jerking me from my thoughts. “Are you okay with this?”
I shrug. “I have to be. Halligan’s confirmed what he could, answered all our questions ... and in the end, it’s hard to make a case against what he says.”
“I wish you didn’t look so distressed.”
I offer a rueful smile, grateful for his perception. “I think I’m just exhausted from the roller coaster this week, believing one thing one minute and something else the next, and on and on and on.”
“Ithasbeen a roller coaster. But it’s bound to be better once we get the hell out of this town.”
