“Did she always work at the toy store?”
“My goodness, no. She was finishing her nursing degree. That’s what she did. She worked in the neonatal ward for a while.” His voice faltered, and Amanda opened one eye. “She stopped doing that and went into the terminal ward. She did that for the rest of her life.”
There was something he wasn’t saying. Amanda could feel it. But she didn’t press. Secrets were okay with her.
“We should see the constable as soon as we get back,” she said.
“When we first came to you, you said you didn’t remember anyone from Brightwood,” Larry said, entering the constable’s office.
“That’s not quite true,” the constable said. “I recall saying I had to leave to patrol.”
“But you know Ike Tressler, I bet.”
Constable Roberts sat back in his chair.
“Yes,” he said reluctantly.
“Why didn’t you tell us about him?”
“It was a can of worms. I didn’t want to bring it up because nothing ever came of it. A few complaints that led nowhere. Nothing substantiated.” He looked at Amanda. “When you showed up, I was surprised toeven learn Dennis had a sister. I didn’t want you to worry. There never was any indication of foul play in his death. I thought about telling you other stuff. Like how sad Dennis seemed, or about Martha and her treatments. But I didn’t want to burden you with details when there was no proof anything criminal happened here.”
“What if it did?” Larry asked.
“Like what, exactly?” the constable asked.
“Maybe Dennis was murdered. Same with the other missing boys.”
“What missing boys?”
“Those other runaways sure never turned up.”
“I told you, there were no runaways—”
Larry reached into the folder he had brought, and handed over the reports. Constable Roberts read, his face going pale. Here was the missing piece he had never found. He rubbed his forehead. He felt sick.
“I had no idea. I knew there was something going on there. I visited several times. I talked to Ralph. He kept coming to me. Brett Jarvis came in too. But when I talked to Martha, she acted like everything was fine.”
“You still could have told us,” Amanda said.
“Look. At a certain point, if a case gets dropped, it gets dropped.” He looked at the reports, shaking his head. “This number at the bottom?”
“Arizona.”
“Figures. That’s where Martha came from, right?”
“Her dad was a sheriff there.”
Amanda held out the picture of the knife on her phone.
“We think the same guy who chased me with a knife like this stabbed a man named Reggie Dupree, who was also at Brightwood. Reggie told us Ike Tressler sexually assaulted him.”
The constable sighed, still rubbing his forehead.
“I missed it. Goddamn it. I missed it.”
“Do you know where Ike lives? We looked in the directory, but we can’t find him.”
“If he hasn’t moved, I sure do. Come on,” Constable Roberts said, grabbing his hat. “I want you there,” he said to Amanda. “Maybe you can identify him.”
