Full Disclosure (36 page)

“I didn't want the truth to become public. I had a broken nose, broken arm, badly damaged left shoulder, raw skin infections on my ankles and wrist, a moderate fever, a mild concussion, and trouble breathing from all the drugs I'd been hit with. I knew my department was searching for me, and my injuries would support about any story I wanted to put together on my disappearance, including one where I didn't remember much about what had happened.

“We sat on the porch and we planned the cover-up. The VP knew the chief of staff had arranged removal of fingerprints and DNA from the federal databases for both of them when he retired, and we could use that fact to our advantage. We could burn the cabin and body to cover evidence of who had been there. We settled on a called-in confession as a way to put the locations of the victims into the hands of the cops, and as a way to lead the cops to the cabin location. The best cover-up would be one that let most things flow out as they normally would.

“Reece, Ben, and Vicky arrived. The VP laid out what was going to happen and why. The VP introduced me to Vicky, helped me to her car, and told Vicky to go. He called hours later to tell me what had been done, and that it had gone as we mapped out. That day was the first time I had met Vicky. I don't know how she handled it as well as she did. It was my decision that we drive all the way back to this area before we stopped. I wouldn't let her get me medical help, since it had to appear whatever I'd patched together I'd done on my own. I gave myself forty-eight hours while I got a story figured out that could hold, figuring the pain wouldn't kill me if it hadn't already.

“Cops searching for me were working under the assumption my confidential informant had pushed me out of the car somewhere along the drive, and they assumed I was likely dead. Vicky took me to within fifty miles of where they were focusing their search. I called into my department from a rail hub and asked them to arrange for someone to come get me. I said I'd hopped a train to reach a town and find a phone. The local cops showed up and took me to the hospital. My boss and several cops from my department were there within an hour, and I gave my statement confirming their CI assumption. I'm not proud of any of that, but it was the cleanest way to approach the problem. I've gone back over it many times, and I don't know I would do anything different if I had all the time in the world to plan.

“I checked myself out of the hospital three days later with Vicky's assistance, telling my boss I wanted to get away from the press. I stayed with her for a few months before I returned to work. She's a good friend to have. She made it possible to get through that recovery with some sanity intact. I healed, I returned to my life, and I went on with the job.”

“Is this what you are hiding, Ann? Is this what's tearing you apart?”

She shook her head.

“What is it then? If you've trusted me with this, trust me with the rest of it.”

The pain reflected in her eyes made Paul want to flinch. Ann found the courage and forced the words out. “I might have been able to stop murders sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen. The chief of staff was killing people when I knew him. I saw him the week before and after he killed victim fifteen. I was picking up inconsistencies. I knew he was lying to the VP. I knew he was in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, on April eighth, 1999. I didn't act on what I saw, and three more people are dead because of it.”

He closed his eyes. He took a hard breath. “You don't do easy secrets, do you?”

“No. Nothing is ever easy with me.”

“Tell me, please, if you can.”

“I was working on the first volume of the VP's autobiography, helping with some of the research. It was January 2002, and I was about three years in as a cop, intensely busy, but I was honored the VP had asked me to help him on it. I saw the chief of staff frequently along with the VP, for they spent a couple of hours together every day, organizing materials for the autobiography.

“The chief of staff asked me to find a copy of a funeral eulogy he had given in 1999 for a man who had been key to the VP's first election win for state attorney general. I found the document in a box of miscellaneous memos, notes, and letters. I picked up a receipt signed by the chief of staff at the Master Grill Restaurant in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, on April eighth, 1999. It was such a detailed kind of record to have kept, I remember thinking at the time, This is interesting. The date stuck because remembering numbers happens without me trying.

“Two days later, searching the official record on another matter, I put in that date and found the official government log—the chief of staff had been in Chicago on April eighth, 1999. Those places are hundreds of miles apart. One was true and one had to be false. The signature on the receipt was the chief of staff's, so the official record was wrong.

“In the most colorful answer I could come up with, I thought the chief of staff might have been having an affair, or had lied to keep the VP out of some political deal he was making. But to save myself having the conversation, I let it go, and I didn't mention the discrepancy with either the chief of staff or the VP. I would later learn that was the location and date victim seven disappeared.

“A month later I was in the room when the chief of staff told the VP he would be spending the upcoming Valentine's Day weekend in St. Louis, Missouri. The VP joked with him the next week about how good a mood he was in after his weekend away. Two months later, while getting tax-return information that the chief of staff asked me to bring over from his office, I
opened the wrong box and found receipts that put the chief of staff in Brownsville, Indiana, on that Valentine's Day weekend.

“The chief of staff had lied in the past, was lying now, and still I didn't ask questions. He had killed Heather Thomas that weekend. Had I asked a question, asked what the chief of staff was doing in Brownsville, it might have changed history, Paul.

“I'm not saying I could have discovered then that the chief of staff was a murderer. But I might have asked questions that would have led to him changing his actions. He might not have killed victims sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen if I had been asking questions. Instead, I said nothing. He killed again on July sixteenth, 2002, and on October seventh, 2002, and on February eighteenth, 2003.

“And on August fifth, 2003, the man showed up at my home, said the VP needed to see me for a few minutes before he left for Florida, and abducted me to write the diary. There are three deaths on my conscience that never leave. When in my dreams I write those pages of the diary, their blood is dripping on the pages. I could have prevented their deaths.”

Paul could hear the pain in her words tearing her apart. He struggled to find something he could say to get her to see it the way he did. “The VP knew the chief of staff while he murdered eighteen people. You knew him while he murdered four people. It's a nasty and horrific problem, Ann. I don't minimize it. You're a cop and you had threads that might have gone somewhere. I can list the qualifiers you already know. You didn't know there was a crime. They were slivers of knowledge in days filled with a river of information. But I know those qualifiers don't help the emotions, or the regret. I don't know how you live with what happened beyond the fact you do live with it.

“While those two dates are important looking back at them from the knowledge of today, at the time they were merely lies, Ann. The inevitable lies people tell for all kinds of reasons. You were being polite, and letting the lie go, because there was a social cost to challenging the lie. Whatever the chief of staff's
reasons, there didn't appear to be a compelling case for challenging the lies.

“In the first case, it was old data, a historical artifact. In the second case, it was a personal matter, and if the chief of staff wanted to be somewhere other than where he said for Valentine's Day weekend, there was probably a lady involved and he didn't want the VP to know. Probably a lie to cover a romance. You learned it was a lie two months after the fact, and it would embarrass the chief of staff if you mentioned it. So you let it go. The decision to not say something was in both cases the courteous thing to do, and given what you knew at the time, probably the right thing. It's not your job to reveal every lie you come across. You speak up when a lie is hurting someone. But none of us can call out every lie we come across. And if you had decided to pursue it, you would have likely soon been another victim, long before you could have discovered enough to stop him.”

“I've thought through all of that, Paul. But I can't walk away from three more people being dead because I didn't follow a lie to the reason behind it. He was killing people. It was a small thread, but it was there.”

“You have to stop tearing yourself apart about it, Ann. You would do differently if you could go back and change it, but you can't. You have to let it go.”

She nodded, but the sadness was stark on her face. “It's not so easy to wish away.” She nodded at the diary. “Please ask your questions now while I have the courage to answer. I don't know if I can ever talk about this again.”

“I really have only one core question. Is this your nightmare?”

“Yes.”

“I know the nightmare is coming more often now. I can see its damage just by looking at you. Has the dream changed compared to what it was a month ago?”

“It's the same dream.”

“Okay.” He rubbed her cold hands. “Okay. Thank you for trusting me.”

“I don't know what, if anything, this will change.”

“What changes is the fact you were willing to trust me.” He brushed her hair back from her face. “I'm falling in love with you, Ann. I'm falling in love with the lady I am meeting in conversations like this one.”

She turned even paler. He smiled. “You don't have to say anything. I'm just laying out the landscape for you on the off chance you're slow at realizing the obvious.”

“I'm beginning to realize,” she whispered.

“When you get home, I'm planning to visit and take you to a movie. That's all you have to consider for now as to what comes next. Get some rest, Ann, however you can. Let go of this and what's happened. We'll turn a page and start over from here.”

She gave a shaky nod and let out a breath. “Okay.”

“Thank you for protecting Vicky. For having that part of your decision to stay unnamed.”

“She's a friend, one I would do anything for that I could.”

“All right, one last question. What do you want me to do with the handwritten diary?”

“Burn it. If you can't do that, then put it in a personal safe and tell your estate to leave it untouched as well. You can protect that diary better than I can. Once the VP's book is out, I don't put it past a reporter to break into my place for a little search while I'm away.”

“It will never see the light of day.”

She pushed over her plate of pie and offered her fork. “Vicky made an exceptional pie.”

He tried it. “I would stay a couple more days just for the pie. You being here is nice too.” He got up to get another fork. “I'll share these last bites.

“It's over, Ann, but for the press and the reporters. And those you can deal with. I'm going to help you deal with them.”

“I'll take your help.” She rested her head on her hands. “I'm so tired, Paul. Tired of what this has been. A decade with it
sitting there, and I turn the page and now it's going public. It never goes away. He's dead, and I keep paying the price.”

“It will end. A year from now, the worst of this will be over. No matter what people think or speculate, the worst of it will be over. Just close your eyes and plan to make it to that day. Your friends will be here. I will. One day at a time. You know how to do that.”

“It's not exactly what you thought you were getting into when you decided to get to know me.”

He carefully took her hands again and waited until she met his gaze. “I see it differently. I wanted to get to know you. You're letting me, and I admire that. You know the VP, Ann. You gave away half a million dollars. You write incredible books. You are all of this, including August five to twelve, and a nightmare most people could never comprehend. I asked to get to know you. Had you not been able to share this, I would have understood the pain that left it unsaid, but I would have been blind to part of who you are. I asked you to trust me, and you have. I'm grateful for that. This is what I want, to know you.”

“There are other secrets I haven't told you. Some I don't know if I will ever be able to tell you.”

He weighed the way she had said it and nodded. “Okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Your secrets are safe with me, Ann. A year from now, when you know how I've handled this one, maybe you can trust me with another. I'm under no illusions this is easy for you. I'm not asking you not to be cautious or careful with what you entrust to me. How many people knew this secret? Three people? The VP, Reece, and Vicky? And they only knew because they were there?” She nodded.

“I know the risk you took to tell me this. If there are secrets so intense and private you can't share them, then I'll adapt to that. It's part of who you are. But I really believe most of the answer is simply time. It will get easier when you
know
you
can trust me. You've already extended a lot of trust. You'll do more with time.”

“I don't suppose you've got a secret like this out there, so we could kind of even things up.”

He couldn't help his chuckle. “Nothing even close, I'm afraid. Mine's a reasonably boring kind of life.”

“That's what I'm afraid of. I haven't. And most of them are things like this, events that just happened.”

“You've already given me part of those secrets. You've told me they are out there.”

She blinked as she realized he was right.