Island of Bones(109)

Louis watched him for a few minutes. When Landeta got to the door of O’Sullivan’s, he hesitated only a second then walked on.





CHAPTER 50




Louis pulled up in front of Frank’s house. His Civic wasn’t in the drive and there were a bunch of plastic-rolled newspapers lying in the tall grass. Picking up the del Bosque Bible, Louis got out of the car. At the front door, he rang the bell. He could hear it echoing in the house.

He jumped off the porch and peered in the front window. The drapes were open enough to let him see that the living room looked untouched, like no one had been home in a long time.

Louis went back to the door and reached into the planter for the key. It was still there. He unlocked the door and went in. The house had a closed-up smell, with the stink of old cigarette smoke still lingering in the air. But someone had taken the trouble to straighten things up some.

Louis went into the bedroom. The bed had been made, the ashtray emptied. Louis opened the closet. Frank’s library uniforms —- his slacks, shirts, and ties —- were still there. He went to the dresser and opened the top drawer. It was empty except for a two pairs of brown dress socks.

Louis turned to look at the room. The bookcase. Its shelves were empty. Every book in the room was gone.

Back in the living room, he realized all the shelves there were bare, too. He turned toward the mantel. The picture of Diane was gone.

Louis let himself out, locked the door, and got back in his car. He sat there for a moment, hands on the wheel, staring at Frank’s house.

Where the hell could he have gone?

He started the Mustang and pulled out. On Cleveland Avenue, he turned left and headed over the Caloosahatchee Bridge. When he pulled into the lot of Diane’s apartment building, he spotted her Honda but not Frank’s Civic. He went up and rang the bell, the Bible under his arm.

He heard a sound behind the door and knew she was looking at him through the peephole. He also knew she wasn’t going to let him in.

“Diane, is your father there?” he called out.

She didn’t answer.

“I have something to give him,” Louis said. “Have you seen him?”

The door jerked open. Diane squinted out into the sunlight. Her hair was combed, her makeup perfect, too perfect. He could tell she had been drinking. Not today, but last night, and the bags had still not gone down under her eyes.

“Leave me alone,” she said. Her eyes darted past him out to the parking lot. He knew she was looking for TV vans.

“I just need to give this to your father.”

Diane’s eyes went to his hands. “What is it?”

“His family Bible.”

“Family? Those animals out there on that island?”

Louis was tempted to open the Bible and show her the names of all her cousins and nephews. “It’s your family, too,” he said.

She threw up her hands. “Oh, no,” she said hoarsely. “I have no connection to them. They’re freaks, monsters. I have no family.”

“What about your father?” Louis asked.

“My father,” she whispered. Her hand shook as she ran it over her hair.

“Diane, have you talked to him?” Louis asked. “Have you heard his side of this or just what’s on TV?”

“I haven’t talked to him since...” Diane’s voice trailed off. She was leaning against the door jamb, like it was hard for her to even stand up.

“Do you know what happened thirty-five years ago?” Louis asked. “Do you know what he did? Why he left that island?”

She shook her head slowly, closing her eyes. Louis knew she had seen the television reports, read the stories in the papers. But Horton hadn’t released all the details yet, so whatever was getting out was vague enough to allow for conjecture and titillation. The public’s imagination filled in the rest.

Diane had no way of knowing that if her father had not left his home thirty-five years ago, she would be buried in that island cemetery with the other babies.

Louis started to tell her, but then he stopped. It wasn’t his place. He had no right. It would have to be Frank’s decision to tell Diane the truth.

“He turned his back on his family for you,” Louis said.

“I can’t deal with this right now.”

“Diane, he’s your father. He’s all you have, for God’s sake. Talk to him.”

“I thought I buried my father,” she said. “Do you know what that feels like? I buried a stranger who only looks like him? I buried a man I don’t even know.”

She was struggling not to cry. But for the life of him Louis couldn’t figure out for whom.

“Leave me alone,” Diane said. “I just want to be alone.”