“You think I give a shit what they are?” Horton asked.
Louis was silent.
“And you know what’s even worse?” Horton continued. “The old lady’s confession will probably stand up. Not one of those other loonies is telling us a damn thing we can use. And no ME is going to be able to tell how those babies died. Not after all these years.”
“You got Frank Woods,” Louis said. “Maybe he’ll tell you the truth.”
Horton shook his head. “Oh, yeah, the original suspect. He’s been away from that island for thirty-five years, Kincaid. How much do you think he really knows? Or can prove?”
“He knows more than you think,” Louis said.
“We questioned the man for three hours, Kincaid. He ain’t talking and I have nothing I can hold him on.”
Louis thought about Frank and Emilio, wondering not for the first time if Emilio’s death really had been an accident. A month ago, he would have said Frank didn’t have it in him to murder someone. That had been his instinct from the start, the reason he had pursued this case. He had always felt that Frank didn’t kill those women. But had he killed Emilio? Had he been so desperate, so driven to survive, that he had murdered his brother to take his place? Louis wasn’t so sure of what was inside any man anymore.
He looked over at Landeta. He was cleaning his glasses with a tissue.
“But we do have one thing,” Horton said, his voice tinged with sarcasm. He waved a piece of paper. “The bullet that killed Shelly Umber came from that Tomas guy’s rifle. Nice piece of work, gentlemen...killing the only real suspect we had.”
The office fell silent. Horton raked his brush cut with his thick fingers, and sunk into his chair.
“Al,” Louis said, “where’s the boy?”
“With DCF. He’ll go into foster care for a while.”
Louis looked at the television. Heather Fox was interviewing some guy with glasses. The name underneath him said he was a child psychologist and cult deprogrammer. Louis knew they were probably talking about Roberto.
“You know what this whole mess amounts to?” Horton asked. He looked up at Louis, then over at Landeta, waiting for an answer. “I think your whole fucking Rambo act is going to end up being for nothing.”
Landeta stood up suddenly. “Tell that to Louisa in a couple of years.” He walked out.
Horton watched him leave. “Who the hell is Louisa?” he asked Louis.
Louis didn’t answer. He just stared at the television. They had switched to a shot of the island now. Louis could see the yellow crime scene tape stretched between the trees, and the cops standing on the dock, watching for gawkers.
Horton sank down in his chair. He glanced at the television then looked at Louis.
“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Louis said. “You asked me to work this because I could play it different than a cop could. I could get it done in a way your guys couldn’t. And that’s exactly what we did, Al.”
Louis left, closing the door behind him before Horton could say anything. He hurried out of the station and through the crowd of reporters. He saw Landeta standing at the corner, waiting to cross the street.
Landeta heard him coming and turned. “Horton’s right. They probably will never face charges, you know.”
“Fuck it,” Louis said.
The WALK sign started blinking and Louis took a step. Landeta followed. They walked on in silence for a moment.
“Louisa?” Louis said.
“I couldn’t name her Melford,” Landeta said. “And if you laugh, I will shoot you, right here on the street.”
They turned down Hendry Street. “You going to walk me all the way home?” Landeta asked.
“Shit no,” Louis said.
They stopped, facing each other. Louis knew what Landeta was thinking, what he was feeling. Whenever a case was over, no matter how it turned out, there was always that letdown that came after the adrenaline had stopped pumping. That feeling of being spent yet still itchy to get back to the high. He knew how much Landeta was going to miss it.
“Hey,” Landeta said. “How about coming back to my place for a sandwich or something? We can stop and pick up some Heinekens.”
Louis met Landeta’s gaze and could see it in the man’s eyes that he wanted to talk. Hell, needed to talk.
Louis pulled out his sunglasses and slipped them on. “Nah, I can’t. I got some things I need to do.”
“Okay. No problem,” Landeta said.
Louis heard the disappointment in his voice. “I’ll take a rain check, okay?”
“Yeah. Fine.” Landeta turned and walked away.