Secrets That Kill - A Short Story by Fran Joyce
Friday April 27th at 8:17AM Billy Collins left for work. He left a message on his wife’s phone at 1:43PM. “Just called to say I love you.” Billy often did that, but this time he sounded different. Polly called him back several times, but he never answered.
When he wasn’t home by 6:30, she started to worry. At 8:30 she started calling every number she had for his family, friends, and co-workers. By 9:30 she started calling area hospitals. At midnight she called the police, but the officer she spoke with told her Billy wasn’t considered a missing person until he’d been gone for forty-eight hours.
He took her information and promised to have the officers on patrol watch for Billy’s truck.
Smithville was a sleepy little town and bad things rarely happened. He told her she should try to get some sleep. Her husband would probably come home before morning. Officer Carstairs was nice enough, but Polly got the feeling he thought Billy was on a bender somewhere or maybe stepping out for a little extra-marital something-something.
She and Billly had been married for seventeen years. He’d never given her a reason to suspect he’d been unfaithful. She heard the disbelief in the officer’s voice when she told him Billy didn’t drink. She knew her husband, but how could she explain to a stranger why she knew he’d never take a drink. You had to know Billy, and you had to know about the incident. The incident Billy refused to talk about, even with her. All she knew was something happened twenty years ago, right before they met, and it made Billy swear off drinking for life.
Billy worked at the lumber yard. He’d worked there since he graduated from high school. He’d taken classes at night at the community college and worked his way up to shipping supervisor.
After a sleepless night, Polly went to his work at 8:30AM. Harry Wilcox, the weekend security guard, let her in Billy’s office. His desk was pristine. His laptop was closed and fully charged. His jacket was hanging on the back of his chair. His cell phone was set on mute in one of the pockets. Why would Billy leave without his jacket, laptop, and phone?
She knew the pin number for his phone, 1659. She entered it and saw the messages she’d left for him. Polly checked his calls, but didn’t recognize a few of the numbers. They weren’t in Billy’s contacts. She checked his calendar. No appointments had been entered for Friday. She made a mental note to check with Imogene, the administrative assistant. Nothing happened at the lumberyard without her knowing about it. She tried the same pin on his laptop without success. She looked through his desk drawers, but he hadn’t written it down anywhere. Billy had a head for numbers. Remembering pins, passwords, phone numbers, and addresses were second nature to him.
If Billy didn’t come home she’d have to show it to their son, Greg. He was good with all that techy stuff, so maybe he could figure out who called his father. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Greg was spending the weekend at his friend Brody’s house, because the Taylors were taking the boys to Kennywood. She didn’t want to ruin their weekend. There were still a lot of hours left before she was officially allowed to worry. How do you tell a fifteen-year-old something might have happened to his dad?
She called his boss, Mr. Kingsley. He seemed surprised to hear from her and surprised that Polly had looked through Billy’s office at the lumberyard, but he was pleasant. Hopefully, Harry wouldn’t get into any trouble for letting her in. Mr. Kingsley promised to have the foreman check with everyone who worked Friday to find out who remembered seeing Billy. Maybe someone saw him leave or knew where he went.
When did the 48 hours start? Was it the last time she saw him? When he sent her the message or the last time anyone saw him? She wasn’t sure. At 8:17 AM on Sunday she planned to be at the police station if her husband hadn’t contacted her or come home.
****
“Mrs. Collins, has your husband done this before?”
“Could he have forgotten to tell you he was going away for the weekend?”
“Does he have any serious medical conditions?”
“Have you checked with his friends or his relatives?”
“How is your relationship? Do you ever argue about money?”
“Has he been depressed? Do you have any reason to believe your husband would harm himself?’
“What do you mean when you say he sounded ‘different’ when he left you the message?”
“How can you be sure your husband didn’t stop off after work for a few drinks and he’s not still sleeping it off somewhere?”
“I know this is difficult, but could he be having an affair?”
“Your son Greg is your only child. Is that correct? Did your husband ever talk about wanting more children?”
The detective taking Polly’s statement peppered her with questions, odd questions. Some were borderline offensive, but she tried to answer them all. His name was Evans, Detective Karl Evans. He was in his mid to late fifties. His clothing smelled slightly of stale cigarette smoke. He popped a breath mint in his mouth and offered her one. She politely declined. It was obvious from his physique that he spent more time doing paperwork than chasing bad guys. He seemed bored with his job and convinced that Billy was just another wayward husband.
“Sometimes a man your husband’s age. He’s a few months shy of forty, isn’t he?”
She nodded.
“Sometimes they get freaked out about turning 40 and they need a little adventure,“ Evans said.
The look that flashed in her eyes warned him to back off. He ran a hand through his thinning hair.
“Look, I’m not trying to offend you, Mrs. Collins. You seem like a nice lady, but I’ve been doing this job a long time. In my experience, men who don’t come home have somewhere else to go.”
His words were like ice water splashing her in the face. Her fingers nervously encircled the heart-shaped locket Billy had given her on their wedding night. When he held her close it seemed to become one with their bodies. She couldn’t imagine Billy holding another woman.
Detective Evans was sure Billy would be home soon with an apology and a nice bouquet of roses. He patted her arm and gave her his card before escorting her back to the lobby.
Feeling thoroughly dismissed, Polly walked to her car. She checked her phone for messages and instinctively started to call Billy before remembering wherever he was he didn’t have his phone. There were dozens of unanswered calls and texts on his phone when she surrendered it to Detective Evans. Luckily, she’d written everything down.
Polly looked at her reflection in the rear-view mirror. She wasn’t the girl Billy fell in love with anymore, but the years hadn’t been too harsh. There were a few fine lines and a couple gray hairs, but she still had her figure and the smile Billy claimed to have fallen in love with the night they met. She didn’t feel like smiling now. Would she ever smile again?
When Billy comes home.
The Taylors would be dropping Greg off soon. She needed to stop by the grocery store before he got home. Polly scoured every parking spot along the main thoroughfare for Billy’s black truck though she knew it wouldn’t be there. Where was her husband? Surely if he’d been in an accident, they’d have heard by now.
***
Minutes stretched into hours and hours turned into days, weeks, and months. Detective Evans had been thorough, he’d checked the traffic cameras in Smithville and examined the video cameras positioned throughout the business district. Billy and his truck had simply vanished. The last person to see him at work was Imogene who saw him enter the men’s room when she went to the breakroom a little before 2PM. No one saw him after that.
Evans put a three state BOLO out for Billy and his truck. He hadn’t used his credit cards or made any withdrawals from their accounts. There were no hidden accounts in his name.
People whispered, hands covering their lips, whenever they saw Polly or Greg. There was a rumor circulating that Billy ran off with Jessica Baxter, the bartender at Swensky’s Tavern. Billy had never been there, and no one had ever seen him with Jessica. Police tracked Jessica to Benson where she was working at her family’s bar. Jessica claimed to have never met Billy or seen him at Swensky’s.
Detective Evans read through the information they had. It was more a report of what they still didn’t know. Polly noted the name of Jessica’s family’s bar, The Blue Dragon. Something about the name was familiar. Something about the incident. Billy’s cousin Steve lived in Benson, maybe he would talk to her. Billy and Steve had been close once, but over the last twenty years they’d only seen each other at family weddings or funerals.
In the twenty years she’d known Billy, she’d never asked about the incident. Billy had made her swear. He never told her what happened, but he talked in his sleep if he was having a nightmare. Over the years she heard words like “no” or “stop.” There were cries and what sounded like pleading. Billy would wake sitting straight up in bed drenched in sweat with his heart racing. He would never discuss it. He’d just say it was a bad dream and swear he couldn’t remember what had frightened him so much.
****
Polly took off work at the bakery and arranged to meet Steve at a coffee shop in Timmons, the next town over from Benson. She left as soon as she was sure Greg had walked the half mile to the high school. She didn’t want him to see her heading out of town.
Steve was sitting in a booth facing the door. He was a couple of years older than Billy. They resembled each other. Both had sandy hair and brown eyes. The same slightly hooked nose and the strong Collins chin. Steve was a few inches taller and much thinner, almost skeletal. She could see Steve’s left knee jiggling under the table as his eyes darted around the room.. He rubbed his hands against the legs of his jeans and rose to hug her.
Steve looked up at the counter and a woman walked over with two cups of coffee.
“It’s been a long time, Polly. Do you want something to eat?” he asked.
“If you’re eating.” Polly answered. Polly wasn’t sure she could choke down anything, but Steve looked like he needed some food.
Orders and pleasantries out of the way, Polly considered diving right into her reason for contacting him. She decided to wait until he’d eaten.
Over breakfast, she gave him the rundown on everything the police were doing to find Billy, and everything they knew. She waited until they were almost finished before she mentioned Jessica and The Blue Dragon.
“Some things should stay in the past, Polly. Why do you think Billy never talked about it?”
“I promised Billy I would never ask anything about the incident, but he’s been missing for seven months. The police have no leads. You have to tell me what happened, please.”
“I can’t talk about it here,” he hissed.
“Then where? I’ll get the check, and we can go somewhere and talk.”
****
“I know a place we can go that’s private. We can go in my truck.”
Something in Steve’s tone alarmed her.
“I’ll follow you in my car. I have to get back home before Greg gets home from school. I don’t want him coming home to an empty house.”
Steve reluctantly agreed.
Polly started her engine and checked her purse for the pepper spray Billy made her carry. Sometimes she worked late at the bakery prepping for the next morning, and Billy worried about her walking to her car in the dark.
As she followed Steve, she noticed they were heading away from town. Quickly, she pulled into a Sheetz pretending to need the bathroom. Once safely inside the ladies room she called Detective Evans and left him a message.
Steve banged on the door demanding to know if she was alright.
“I think the eggs were bad. I’m not feeling so well,” she answered.
“Let me take you to a doctor.”
“No, I’ll be okay. I think maybe we should reschedule our little talk for another day. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Don’t be foolish. Come out and let me help you, Polly.”
Polly’s phone pinged indicating she had a text message.
“Don’t come out of that bathroom until I get there! I’m about 40 minutes out. I asked the sheriff’s department to send a deputy to the gas station. He should be there any minute. If your husband’s cousin is up to anything, that should scare him off.”
“Thanks.” She texted back.
Ten minutes later, a female deputy entered the restroom.
“Mrs. Collins, I’m Deputy Andrews. I’ve been asked to stay with you until Detective Evans from the Smithville Police Department arrives. Are you okay?”
Polly nodded, suddenly feeling foolish.
“I’m probably overreacting,” she said.
“For what it’s worth, Detective Evans didn’t seem to think so.”
Her phone pinged.
“According to my partner, the man who was standing by the ladies room door when we arrived just drove away. You gave Detective Evans a good description of him and his truck, by the way. There are some tables in the back. We can wait for Detective Evans out there.”
Deputy Andrews purchased two waters and led Polly to a corner table.
“How long has your husband been missing?” she asked.
“Seven months and three days.”
“I’m sorry. What makes you think his cousin knows where he might be?”
Polly hesitated, not sure how much she should say.
“My husband Billy and his cousin Steve were close once, but something happened twenty years ago that changed both their lives.”
“What was that, ma’am?”
“I don’t know. I don’t even know if it’s related to Billy’s disappearance, but in seven months the police haven’t been able to find a single lead. I’m desperate. I asked Steve to meet me at a coffee shop in Timmons. He wouldn’t tell me anything unless we went somewhere private. He wouldn’t tell me where we were going, and he didn’t like it when I insisted on taking my own car instead of riding with him. I got scared when we got this far out of town. It’s probably my imagination. I’m sorry for taking you away from your duties.”
“No worries. Better safe than sorry. We don’t want you going missing, too.”
Detective Evans rushed toward the table. For a large man he moved quickly.
Deputy Andrews stood and identified herself. They shook hands and moved away to confer in private. The deputy nodded to Polly and left.
Evans bought a water and sat down across from Polly.
“Start at the beginning and don’t leave anything out.” His tone was a mixture of annoyance and concern.
She told him everything she knew about what Billy referred to as “the incident.”
“In twenty years you never asked him to tell you about it?”
“I promised I wouldn’t. I knew it had something to do with drinking. That’s all he told me. It’s why I was so sure he wasn’t off drinking. He never went to bars with his buddies, We didn’t even serve alcohol at our wedding.”
“Could he be an alcoholic?”
“I’m sure he’s not. We met when we were both twenty, and I’ve never seen him take a drink or act like he wanted one. He’s always talked to Greg about not giving in to peer pressure and thinking he had to drink to be accepted.
“Were any members of his family killed in a drunk driving accident?”
“Not that I know about. His parents retired to Bradenton, Florida last year, and his two sisters live about thirty minutes away with their families.”
“I’m going to check the police files for any hit and run accidents or drunk driving deaths from twenty years ago. If you feel okay to drive I’ll follow you back to Smithville. Whatever you do, do not agree to meet with any member of your husband’s family. Don’t let your son have any contact with them either until I’ve had a chance to check things out. Polly, it’s time to stop playing detective, okay? Some of us get paid to do this, and when we have all the facts we’re actually pretty good at our jobs.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t think you were taking me seriously.”
“I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions about your husband. I’m listening now, and I think this could be our first solid lead. I’m having Steve Collins put under surveillance while I check a few things out. I’ll have patrol cars go through your neighborhood until we know if he’s involved in your husband’s disappearance.”
*****
Polly felt hopeful for the first time in months, but she couldn’t get The Blue Dragon out of her head. She was sure Billy had mentioned it during one of his nightmares, but why?
She went to the computer and looked it up. Purvis and Ruth Tate owned The Blue Dragon Tavern. They bought the place about thirty years ago. Polly pulled out her credit card and purchased information about the Tates from an online database. The Tates had two daughters Marissa and Jessica. Marissa never married, but Jessica had married a man named Baxter. They were currently divorced. Jessica was the bartender who allegedly ran off with Billy. Polly felt sick.
She picked up the phone and called Billy’s sister, Evelyn.
“Did Billy ever date a woman named Jessica Tate?” she asked after they had exchanged pleasantries.
“Not that I remember. Now that I think of it Cousin Steve dated someone with the last name Tate. Jessica doesn’t sound right. I think it started with an M or N, Monica?’
Polly held her breath for a moment.
“Could it have been Marissa?”
“Yeah, maybe. What’s this all about Polly? You don’t think Billy could be with this Marissa person, do you? That’s crazy. He loves you, and he’d never do that.”
“Did Steve ever mention The Blue Dragon Tavern?”
“He was obsessed with it for a while. He had a t-shirt from there, match books, and a couple of drink glasses. All of a sudden he stopped wearing the t-shirt and found a new bar,”
“Did Billy ever go there with him?”
“Maybe. Billy used to look up to Steve. If Steve went there, Billy probably did, too. That was before they had a falling out.”
“What happened between them?”
“Billy would never say. He just said Steve needed to grow up. That’s when Billy swore off drinking. He became a real drag about it. Didn’t want me or Teresa to go near a bar or have a drop of liquor.”
“Did Steve drink a lot?”
“Among other things. It got worse after he and Billy stopped hanging out.”
“Thanks, Evelyn! Can we keep this between the two of us? I promise I’ll let you know if this goes anywhere.”
“Sure Polly, but I’m telling you Billy’s true blue. He’d never do that.”
Polly called Detective Evans and filled him in about the Tate family, The Blue Dragon, and Steve.”
*****
Detective Evans went back to The Blue Dragon to speak with Jessica Baxter.
In her day, she’d been beautiful, but time hadn’t been kind. She had a hardness about her features from too many cigarettes, too much alcohol, and too much time spent in a tanning bed. She still had her figure, and enjoyed showing it off. She leaned forward to display her impressive cleavage.
“Look, I already told you I don’t know this Billy Collins guy.”
“He used to come in here with his cousin, a guy named Steve. Steve maybe dated your sister Marissa. Would have been about twenty years ago. Does that ring any bells?”
He watched her reactions closely.
Jessica Baxter was visibly shaken.
“My sister dated a lot of guys, so did i. How am I supposed to remember every lovesick puppy who might have come in this bar in the past twenty years?”
“Okay, where can I reach your sister?”
“You can’t. She’s in the Ripley Mental Institution. Crazy as a loon.”
“How long has she been there?”
“Eighteen years or so.”
“What happened to her?”
“That’s a good question. I’ve been asking her shrinks that for years. You find out. You come back and tell me. Okay? Now, I have to finish my shift. You know where the door is, right? The exit is clearly marked.”
Detective Evans drove to Steve Collins’ workplace. Steve worked for a local construction company. According to the information Detective Evans had discovered, he’d worked in construction since high school. He’d been fired a few times for drinking on the job.
According to his latest boss, Steve was a model employee.
Detective Evans donned a hardhat and was escorted to where Steve was having lunch with his co-workers,
Evans identified himself. He explained that he was investigating Billy Collins’ disappearance, and needed to ask Steve a few questions. They walked away from the others to the far end of the site.
“You and Billy were pretty close growing up. Is that right?”
“Sure.”
“What happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean why did you stop hanging out and why did Billy suddenly stop drinking.”
Steve rubbed his palms against his jeans and looked uncomfortable. He tapped his foot.
“We stopped hanging out because he stopped partying and became a real drag. You’ll have to ask him why he stopped drinking.”
“Tell me where I can find him, and I will.”
“Steve looked nervously at the freshly poured foundation.
“No clue,” he answered.
“How long have you been working on these apartment buildings?”
“Why?”
“Oh, I don’t know. It just seems like one of these foundations would be a good place to hide a body, that’s all.”
“Dude you’re crazy. I should call your boss or something.”
“Be my guest. How long did you date Marissa Tate?”
“Who?”
Steve tried to pretend he’d never heard the name.
“Marissa Tate from The Blue Dragon.”
“My lunch break is over. I need to get back to work.”
“Thanks for your time, Mr. Collins. I might have more questions for you later.’
“Sure. I hope you find him.”
Steve hurried away looking trying not to look back.
Detective Evans left convinced of three things: Billy Collins was dead. His death had something to do with why Marissa Tate was in a mental institutions. Steve Collins was in this up to his eyeballs.
He stopped at the construction trailer and asked when the foundations had been poured for each of the units.
****
Purvis and Ruth Tate agreed to talk to Detective Evans about their daughter, Marissa.
“I’m investigating the disappearance of Billy Collins. Do you remember him or his cousin Steve? They used to come here about twenty years ago. Then they stopped coming suddenly. It was a couple of years before your daughter was institutionalized.”
“I remember Steve. He used to come in with a younger kid. Nice boy, He seemed to look up to Steve. At first everything was fine, but then Steve started drinking too much. Sometimes he’d get into a fight and the kid would cart him out of here. We didn’t want Marissa involved. Trust me, I know drunks, and this guy had a problem. Ruth was afraid he’d get into an accident, and we’d lose our liquor license for serving him. Marissa begged and pleaded with us not to ban him. She was never the same after they broke up. She attempted suicide a couple of times before we put her in Ripley.” Purvis Tate answered.
“We try to watch all our customers, and we’ve taken quite a few sets of keys away and called cabs. When we bought this place, we thought it would be a quiet neighborhood bar. Boy were we wrong.” Ruth said.
“Why didn’t you sell?” Evans asked.
“We put all our savings in, and we would have taken a huge loss.” Purvis answered.
“Did Steve hang out with anyone else?”
“There was this one guy. I think his name was Wes. He was always ogling the girls. Our daughter Jessica thought he was cute. Thank goodness she left for college before anything happened. This Wes had some friends we thought might be trying to sell drugs in the bar. You know they’d go to the can multiple times and always with someone. I banned them from the bar.” Ruth replied.
“Do you think Steve was selling drugs, too?”
“No, we never saw any indication of that in the bar. I always thought maybe he was buying drugs from Wes. Maybe he was more than just drunk. Marissa swore he and Wes were clean, and begged us not to ban them.” Purvis said.
“What happened to Wes? Do you know his full name? Can you give me a physical description of him?”
“I think it was Foster or maybe Faulkner. He was tall. Maybe 6’3’’ with dark hair and brown eyes. Dark brown eyes. Maybe 220-230 pounds. He liked to wear those t-shirts that showed off his muscles, and he had plenty of muscles. He stopped coming at the same time Steve stopped coming. We were ecstatic, but Marissa was devastated. We thought she’d get over it, but she quit her job at the coffee shop and started sleeping all the time. I was afraid she was pregnant or something. She seemed to snap out of it, but when Jessica came home for summer break, it got worse.” Ruth said.
“Wes Frazier, “ Purvis interjected. “I think his surname was Frazier.”
Ruth shrugged. “It could have been Frazier or Fraser, but I don’t know what this has to do with Marissa.”
“I think something happened, and I’d like your permission to talk to Marissa. It might help her if the truth finally comes out.”
“We’ve tried everything. If her psychiatrist agrees you have our permission.”
Ruth nodded her agreement.
Evans ended the interview and went back to the department to try to find Wes Foster, Wes Faulkner, Wes Frazier, or Wes Fraser. He had a physical description and a general age. Hopefully, Wes had a record.
From the information he entered, three men were matches, Wes Fuller, Wes Foster, and Wes Fraser. Evans called the Tates, and they stopped by the station to look at the photos. Wes Fuller had a rap sheet for drugs and assault. Wes Foster and Wes Fraser had both been on probation for petty larceny.
Separately, they both identified the photo of Wes Fuller as the customer who frequented The Blue Dragon. Interestingly, there were no records of Wes Fuller being employed, filing income taxes, renting a home, owning a vehicle, or getting arrested after 2004. He seemed to disappear.
****
After a couple of weeks of negotiations, Detective Evans headed to Ripley accompanied by a police psychologist, Dr. Hartley. They met with Dr. Engler and devised a plan for questioning Marissa Tate.
“Miss Tate, thank you for speaking with us today.”
Detective Evans spoke softly and carefully.
“Do you remember a man named Billy Collins?”
“Yes, he was Steve’s cousin. Is he here? Is Steve here?”
She looked around hopefully.
“No, I’m sorry he isn’t. Billy is missing, and we thought maybe you could help us find him.”
“He’s not with Steve? Billy was always with Steve. I’ll bet Steve would know. The last time I tried calling Steve, he’d changed his number.”
“Why do you think he did that?’
“I ruined everything.”
“What do you mean?”
“I hurt someone, but he tried to hurt me first.”
“When did this happen?”
Marissa began to get agitated.
“”Let’s take some deep cleansing breaths, Marissa.” Dr. Engler said.
“Maybe we should take a short break.
Dr. Hartley nodded. She and Detective Evans went to the commissary for coffee.
“She knows something. I can feel it.” Evans said.
Dr. Hartley nodded.
“I think you’re right, but if we push too hard, she’s going to retreat into her own world again. From what I’ve read in her file, what’s she’s told you today is more than she’s said to Dr. Engler in eighteen years of therapy.”
“Has she really been in this place for eighteen years?”
“Off and on. She’s been with her parents part of the time, but she’s never been able to assimilate back into society. ‘I hurt someone, but he tried to hurt me first.’ What could she mean by that?” Dr. Hartley asked.
“I think I might know.” Evans answered.
***
“Are you feeling better, Miss Tate?”
Marissa nodded.
“Were you friends with Billy Collins?”
“I suppose. I told you he was nice.”
“Steve Collins was your boyfriend.”
“He should still be my boyfriend,” she answered
“What about Wes Fuller? Did you like him? He was quite handsome.”
“Wes was dreamy. Until he wasn’t.”
“Did he hurt you? If he did and you defended yourself, whatever happened isn’t your fault.”
Doctor Engler was about to end the interview, but Marissa continued speaking.
“Steve said it was. He said I was so stupid for going out back with Wes.”
“Steve was wrong. Whatever happened, I’m sure you had no choice.”
Marissa nodded. “He was pulling at my blouse, and he tore all the buttons. He forced me down on the ground and he was trying to put himself inside me. He had his hand across my mouth, so I couldn’t scream. I tried, but he was choking me. I grabbed the rock and hit him as hard as I could, He fell sideways and started foaming at the mouth.”
“What did you do next?” Evans asked.
“Steve and Billy came outside looking for us, and they told me Wes was dead. Steve was yelling at me, but Billy made him stop. He wanted to call the police. Steve begged him not to. He said the police wouldn’t believe me, and we’d all be in trouble. Steve went through Wes’ pockets and got his identification and his keys. He pulled Wes’ truck around back and they put his body in it. Steve drove it away. Billy helped me back to my apartment. I changed into my pajamas and Billy stayed until I calmed down. Then he left and took my torn clothes with him.”
“Marissa, do you realize what you’re saying?” Dr. Engler asked.
“Yeah, I do. I’ve been waiting twenty years to be punished for what I did.”
“You were only protecting yourself. I think the courts will agree.’ Evans said.
“What happens next?” Dr. Engler asked.
“I’ll contact the district attorney’s office, and they’ll issue a warrant for Steve Collins’ arrest for accessory to murder, obstruction, tampering with a crime scene, and abuse of a corpse for starters.” He answered.
“What about Billy Collins?”
“I think he’s dead. I think something made him want to come clean about what happened, and I think Steve killed him to keep him quiet.”
“Where are the bodies?”
“Steve Collins works in construction. I think he buried the bodies where they were getting ready to pour concrete foundations. God only knows what building Wes Fuller is resting beneath. I think I have a rough idea of where Billy Collins’ body is though. Maybe the D.A. can get him to talk.”
****
“Thank you for finding my husband, and thank you for coming to the funeral.” Polly said.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get a happier result,” he answered. “Steve admitted Billy was already dead by the time anyone knew he was missing. Billy saw Jessica Baxter and recognized her. When he learned Marissa was in a mental institution, he couldn’t live with the guilt. He wanted Steve to go with him to the police to confess.”
“Why did Jessica deny knowing Billy or speaking with him?”
“Jealous boyfriend. She was trying to avoid a confrontation. She was convinced the boyfriend might have seen her talking to Billy, and he might be responsible for Billy’s disappearance. She admitted it when we questioned her after Steve’s arrest. She didn’t know anything about what happened to Wes or her sister.” Evans answered.
“I wish Billy had told me. We could have faced this together. Maybe that poor woman wouldn’t have spent so many years in a mental institution if he had. Did Wes Fuller have any family? I can’t imagine what this has been like for them.”
“Wes Fuller was responsible for this whole mess. He tried to rape Marissa Tate. I’m finding it hard to feel sorry about his death. But to answer your question, Fuller didn’t have any family at the time of his death. Nobody mourned him.”
When Detective Evans left the Collins home, Polly’s fingers were encircling the heart-shaped locket around her neck.