Part 15 (1/2)

Ben shook his head. ”I don't see it.”

Tess leaned forward in the chair. ”Ben, they know that Phoebe's body was transported to the ditch in Lazarus's truck. A witness recognized the truck leaving the scene. There was no time to clean up the truck. Phoebe's blood was in that truckbed. Shreds of her clothing. But that truck actually belonged to Nelson. He just let Lazarus drive it.”

”Tess, the police searched the Abbott house after they found the body. And the garage and the bas.e.m.e.nt. They couldn't find any proof that he kept her there.”

”But he may have,” said Tess. ”He might have cleaned it up.”

”Well, it's true that if we'd had the forensic techniques we have nowadays, they might have found evidence,” said Ben. ”By now, of course, it's too late.”

”Ben,” said Tess carefully, ”if Lazarus kept her in that house, or on that property, who else would have had...access to Phoebe there?”

Ben tilted back in his own chair, gripping the armrests. Then he shook his head. ”No. If that were the case, why wouldn't Lazarus have implicated his stepfather? His life was at stake.”

”Well, that's a good question. But he didn't implicate anyone. He just said he was innocent.” Tess shrugged. ”He was afraid of his stepfather. Terrified of him.”

”He was facing execution...” Ben protested.

”I know,” said Tess. ”A normal person would have named his accomplice. But of course a normal person wouldn't have committed the crime in the first place. And it's hard to imagine what went on inside the snake pit that was Lazarus Abbott's mind-I'm just speculating-but I know that abuse victims rarely accuse their abusers.”

”That's certainly true,” said Ben. ”It's a crime that's so difficult to prosecute.”

Tess leaned forward in her chair. ”In fact, nowhere in the sentencing phase of the trial did Lazarus ever even acknowledge that his stepfather beat him and humiliated him. That all came from people outside the family.”

Ben frowned.

”And who really cared? Nelson was a solid citizen. His stepson had a record as a pervert,” Tess continued.

They sat in silence for a moment.

”I'm not accusing anyone,” Tess protested. ”I just wonder if it would be possible to make a discreet comparison of Nelson's DNA to the test results.”

Ben shook his head. ”There's no way Nelson would voluntarily give a sample.”

”Could the police...demand a sample? Legally?” Tess asked.

Ben frowned, tapping the pencil absently on his desk. ”They could. But Rusty Bosworth is Nelson's nephew so I think you can forget about that happening,” said Ben. ”And Nelson can't be forced to give a DNA sample. That would violate his fourth amendment rights...”

Tess reached a hand out and put it lightly on his, to still the tapping. She felt his warmth radiate up through her fingertips. She pulled her fingers back. ”Isn't it possible to obtain a person's DNA without their knowledge?” she asked. ”People leave DNA on drinking cups or clothing or hairbrushes, don't they?”

”Sure, it's possible. But the police aren't going to try and obtain a sample at all, never mind illegally.” Ben looked at her meditative profile with a kind of possessive admiration. His blue eyes were at once bemused, and chiding. She was pressing her steepled fingers against her lips. ”And neither should anyone else. Tess?”

Tess looked up at him, her gaze opaque. ”No,” she said absently. ”No. Of course not.”

CHAPTER 16.

A redheaded woman with freckles wearing a baggy, oxford cloth s.h.i.+rt opened the front door of the neat, barn-red Cape Cod house and frowned. ”I know who you are,” she said bluntly as Tess attempted to introduce herself.

”I wondered if I could see the chief for a minute,” Tess asked.

”He's in very bad shape,” said the woman. ”It would be too exhausting for him.”

”Mary Anne,” came a feeble cry from inside the house. ”Who is it?”

Nothing wrong with his hearing, Tess thought.

”Tess DeGraff,” said Mary Anne.

”I promise I won't stay long,” said Tess.

”Tell her to come in,” said the weak voice.

Mary Anne hesitated and then stood aside, a long-suffering look on her face. She inclined her head toward the room behind her. ”He's in the family room. Go on through there.”

”Thanks,” said Tess.

Tess walked through the pristine, rarely used living room to the arched doorway of the family room. The paneled room had obviously been added on to the house. A beige chenille-covered sofa faced a large gas hearth and an enormous television set. Beside the sofa was a gray, black, and beige plaid recliner with the footrest extended. Huddled on the recliner, under an afghan, was Aldous Fuller.

”Chief,” she said.

He turned to look at her. The huge gray circles under his eyes made his bald head look like a skull. His skin was waxy. He managed a smile.

”Tess,” he said.

Tess went over to the chair and squeezed his hand, which lay limp on the armrest. His bony fingers were icy. ”I'm sorry to bother you,” she said. ”But I need your help.”

”Sit down,” said the chief. ”Not there. Sit where I can see you.”

Tess, who had been about to sit on the edge of the sofa, got up and pulled a wooden chair from beside the fireplace over to a spot in front of the recliner. ”Is this better?” she asked.

Chief Fuller, whose breathing was labored, nodded.

”I need a favor,” Tess said.

”I'm not good for much right now,” said the chief. ”But I'll help you if I can.”

”That's all I ask,” said Tess. She took a deep breath and explained her proposal.

Because of the rain, Tess pa.s.sed the Abbott place several times before she finally located the entrance to the driveway. She turned in and slowly drove up to the house. She parked in the drive and sat in her car, staring at Lazarus Abbott's boyhood home, her heart thumping.

In answer to her questions, Chief Fuller had explained what he knew about DNA collection. One could, he had said, find saliva on a discarded paper cup, a bottle, or a piece of gum, or perspiration from a T-s.h.i.+rt, or hairs trapped on a hat or a comb. And yes, once that object was obtained and placed in a plastic bag, Chief Fuller did have contacts at the state crime lab who could compare it with the DNA of Phoebe's killer. But Aldous Fuller had been very clear-it was dangerous and a bad idea for Tess to get involved in this.

Tess pretended to take his warning to heart. But, as she got up to leave, she was already putting her plan into motion. Tess went out through the kitchen where Mary Anne was stirring a pot on the stove. She had thanked Mary Anne for letting her speak to the chief and then said that the chief was asking for a gla.s.s of water. With a sigh, Mary Anne ran some water into a gla.s.s and started back toward the family room.

Alone in the kitchen, Tess quietly opened three cupboard drawers before she found what she was seeking-Ziploc plastic bags. What kitchen would be without them? Tess mused. She had tucked a handful of them into her coat pocket and let herself out the back door. Then she drove directly to the Abbotts' place.

Tess had hoped that Nelson's black truck might be in the driveway. People often drank take-out coffee in their cars, she reasoned. She thought she could open the door of the cab, s.n.a.t.c.h his paper cup, toss it into a plastic bag, and be gone before he even came out of the house to see why someone was idling in his driveway.