‘Keeping the “why” quiet – Patricia’s being sexually assaulted by Richard – was what Linden Senior was all about,’ Hyatt said. ‘He admitted to it when we pressed him.’
Thorne was stunned. ‘He admitted it?’
‘He had to,’ Jamie said, ‘what with Eileen Gilson’s testimony that her husband was paid for the key ring and then later killed over it. Plus fourteen years of bank deposits that paid for her silence.’
‘Linden didn’t have to admit it,’ Joseph corrected. ‘He could have fought us in court. But we were able to convince him that if he didn’t admit it, we’d order a DNA test on his grandson. Blake would be revealed in court records to be the son of Richard and Patricia. Which we already got Judge Segal to admit to separately, so it was kind of moot.’
‘Blake knows,’ Thorne said softly. ‘He told me so, right before Brickman and Patton came into that room where we were being held. How is the kid? Gwyn and I have been worried about him.’
Joseph frowned. ‘How did he find out?’
‘Same way we did,’ Thorne said. ‘He saw a photo of Richard. He guessed that Richard had raped his mother. I suppose we need to decide if we want to tell him that he’s got a half-brother. Angie Ospina’s son Liam is a product of Richard’s rape too. If I were him, I’d want to know.’
‘You should probably leave that decision to Angie,’ Gwyn recommended quietly. ‘Liam is living in Iowa now, but Angie told me that he’s been accepted to Johns Hopkins. He’ll be in Baltimore in the fall, attending classes. At this point, I don’t know if Liam even knows that his aunt Angie is really his mother. That’s a much bigger bombshell to drop than him having a half-brother.’
‘I agree,’ Jamie said. ‘You might want to know, Thomas, but like you said, those young men are products of rape. And part of that information, as a victim, is Angie’s to share.’
Hyatt’s mouth fell open. ‘What?’
Joseph’s eyes widened. ‘Explain. Please.’
‘Oh, right.’ Thorne told them how they’d known that Angie had also been raped by Richard. ‘We got a little distracted after we found that out. I would say she has a right to a civil judgment against the Lindens, but they’ve been paying her for years. It’s not quite child support, but she’s been compensated.’
‘Jamie’s right,’ Hyatt said unexpectedly. ‘It should be her call. She’s the victim. I don’t name rape victims without their consent.’ He looked at Joseph. ‘Is that all you have?’
Joseph nodded. ‘We do have some good news for you, Thorne.’
Hyatt hefted the shopping bag he’d brought in with him. ‘We found several of your sports medals in Judge Segal’s safe deposit box.’
Thorne blinked. ‘So he had them? All this time?’
Hyatt nodded. ‘Yes, but that’s not the only thing he had. We found four large boxes in his basement filled with your possessions.’ He drew two thick photo albums from the bag, along with some framed photos. ‘We’re clearing them out of evidence as quickly as we can, but I had these expedited.’
Thorne was . . . speechless. And almost too afraid to hope that the albums contained what he thought they did. Gwyn reached for them with care, bringing them to her lap.
Her smile was sweet. ‘Can I?’
He nodded, saying nothing. Hoping. Hoping.
‘Oh, Thorne,’ she laughed breathlessly. ‘Look at you. You’re so cute.’
Jamie rolled closer. ‘Oh, wow.’ He sounded delighted. ‘You really are. Phil is going to love seeing these.’
Thorne forced himself to look at the album she held, and a lump rose in his throat. ‘Oh my God.’ He traced a finger over a photo of him with his real father, Thomas Thorne. He remembered the day. He’d been four and his dad had taken him to the aquarium. The album was filled with pictures of his father. ‘I . . . I thought these pictures were gone forever.’ He huffed out a breath and chanced a look up at Hyatt. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered.
‘Least we could do,’ Hyatt said gruffly. ‘There were other things in the boxes. Trophies and comic books. Stuff like that. We’ll be getting it to you as quickly as we can.’
‘Was there a ball?’ Thorne asked, again fearing to hope. ‘A rugby ball?’
Hyatt nodded. ‘Yes. Signed by a lot of players.’
‘It was my dad’s.’ His voice broke and he cleared his throat. ‘I thought it was all gone.’
Gwyn brought his hand to her lips and kissed it. ‘I’m so glad it’s not.’
Joseph’s smile was gentle. ‘Segal admitted that he’d gone by your house the day after you were arrested. He’d come down from the adrenaline high of killing Richard and told Patricia what he’d done. Linden Senior had already gone ballistic because of the key that Segal had shoved in Richard’s body. One of the cops on the scene – not Prew, but one of his colleagues – had given him the heads-up, and Linden Senior had already bought the key ring back from Kirby Gilson, the ME tech. Segal was feeling antsy by then, and paranoid. He wasn’t sure what you’d told your mother and stepfather, Thorne. So he went by your house, and that was when he saw your belongings at the curb. He loaded them all into that truck of his.’
The mention of Segal’s truck had Thorne’s mind snapping to Sherri. ‘Did he admit to killing Sherri too?’
‘Not yet,’ Hyatt said. ‘But the prosecutors are working on him. They’ll be offering him all kinds of deals for information,’ he added with disgust.
Joseph chuckled. ‘I won’t tell Daphne that you said that. She’s lead on Segal’s case. It’s the only perk she’s had out of all this. She’s wanted to be in the thick of it with you, but she knew that once we caught someone, she’d need to be conflict-less.’
‘I’m glad she’s on the case,’ Thorne said sincerely. ‘And I’m glad that Grayson’s home so that he can help.’ He knew that Grayson and the rest had returned from Chicago the day after Tavilla was killed. Lucy had been to see him every day, and the others had spaced their visits, timing them for when Jamie had been with Phil, because Thorne had only been allowed two visitors at a time in ICU.
‘We’re all going to be busy for a while. The paperwork on Tavilla’s victims alone is . . .’ Joseph shuddered. ‘And those are the victims we know of.’
‘How many?’ Thorne asked, afraid to hear the answer.
Joseph sighed. ‘Altogether we have nineteen present-day victims. Some of those were Tavilla’s kills. Some were Patton’s. We’re sorting through that now. We have Patricia, of course. The two members of the Circus Freaks that he stuffed full of Sheidalin matchbooks. Ramirez and his wife. Darian Hinman and Chandler Nystrom. The professor and her husband who were killed by mistake in their trailer. Brent Kiley, the EMT. According to Segal, Tavilla also killed the two men who drugged you and Patricia, Thorne. Margo killed her sister, Kathryn.’
‘And Tavilla,’ Gwyn added.
Joseph shrugged. ‘That depends on who you talk to. The ME lists COD as exsanguination. But he wasn’t sure which of the wounds killed him – Margo’s two bullets or Thorne’s knife. So, Thorne, you can have that honor if you want.’
Thorne shook his head. ‘No. No, thank you.’ He still remembered the horror at having killed Patton. He would have killed again, because it was self-defense, but . . . ‘No.’
Again Joseph’s smile was gentle, as if he understood. ‘Then we’ll list Tavilla in Margo’s column.’
Thorne swallowed back bile. ‘Thank you.’
‘You get credit for Patton, though,’ Hyatt said, oblivious to Thorne’s emotional distress. ‘And Gwyn gets credit for Margo and one of the thugs who attacked your SUV. Frederick and Clay each got one too. Your friends did well.’
Gwyn squeezed Thorne’s hand, comforting him wordlessly. They’d each killed their first and, hopefully, only people. They’d done what they’d had to do to survive, as had Frederick and Clay. None of them were happy about what they’d done, but they’d live with it.
Jamie cleared his throat. ‘Of course, we also have the people who made it – Phil, Sam, Chad Ingram.’