He waited, certain she meant to tell him.
“We were having some marital difficulties, you see,” she said with apparent difficulty. “I had begun to suspect there was another woman because—” Her blush deepened. “Well, we weren’t having relations. At all. I even wondered if he was gay and couldn’t tell me.
“Eventually he did admit to having cheated on me, although I never found out with whom. Of course, I had no idea then of his perverted tastes... If he preyed on other young girls, I’m not sure I want to know. I hate him enough already.”
“I understand,” Zach said gently.
“What I’m leading up to is that he agreed to attend a church retreat with me. The focus was on strengthening marriages. It was that weekend, at a small resort on Guemes Island. My sister kept the girls so we could go. You probably know how limited the ferry service is to Guemes. But even if that wasn’t true...there is simply no way he could have left without my knowing.”
Zach was dumbfounded enough to recognize that, in his eagerness, he’d reasoned ahead of the facts; something he knew better than to do.
It shouldn’t be a surprise that Duane Womack wasn’t the only pedophile who had had something to do with the Murphy family. Yet, despite knowing Duane’s taste for girls entering puberty, Zach had still let himself believe he had found his man.
He made a last-ditch effort. “It’s been a lot of years. You’re certain it was the same weekend?”
“Yes. We were on the ferry when Duane turned on the car radio to the news and we heard about the murder. We were both so shocked. He told me your parents were among his clients and what a nice family you seemed to be.”
“I see.” He smiled crookedly. “Then I can only apologize for asking questions that must remind you of times you’d rather forget.”
She rose when he did. “But you had to ask.” At the door she squeezed his hand. “I hope you do find the man who did that. The very idea that he got away with it!” Her ferocity reminded him that she knew quite well who had hurt her daughters, and that she, too, lived with the knowledge she’d failed to protect them.
He thanked her and, feeling curiously numb, went to the truck, aware of Tess watching. She unlocked the door and he got in, sitting there for a minute and staring straight ahead.
Finally he made himself tell her. “It wasn’t him.”
“What did she say?”
Zach repeated the gist.
Tess listened, little lines creasing her forehead.
“Well,” she said sturdily, “that’s one more name you can cross off your list.”
He nodded. “This is how investigations go. You find a promising lead and then it doesn’t pan out. You back up and try another route.”
When he still didn’t move, Tess asked, “Are you okay?”
Honestly? He didn’t know. Numb wasn’t quite right for what he felt. A sense of failure? Maybe. He’d told Tess the truth—this was standard in an investigation. But this wasn’t a standard investigation, not when the victim was his sister.
He made himself fire up the engine, even as his frustration built, filling him until there was no room left. Man, he hated dealing with so many emotions he hardly understood. It was like getting punched over and over, never knowing where the next blow was coming from. He was reeling from this latest one.
But sometime in the silent drive back downtown, Zach formed a resolve that hardened until it felt like a rough-sided chunk of cement in his chest.
It was past time Bran admitted what he knew instead of playing along for his own reasons. Time they found out what being brothers actually meant.
Wasn’t it convenient, Zach thought, that he’d be seeing Bran tomorrow?
* * *
THE NEXT EVENING Tess insisted on cleaning up after dinner to give the two men time to talk. Conversation over the meal had been labored, probably in part thanks to her presence. Truthfully, she didn’t yet feel comfortable with Bran and had been disappointed that Paige wouldn’t be accompanying him. Without help from another woman, her every effort at being chatty had dwindled into an awkward silence.
Zach was being unnaturally quiet and, as far as she could tell, his brother was not a real outgoing guy. Or maybe some underlying tension between the brothers spilled over into everything that was said and unsaid. She didn’t know, but once they’d finished their pie, she’d had enough.