Last to die

“Please do,” said Rudsky.

“It happened before we were married.”

Rudsky’s sarcastic chuckle caused a crackle in the speakers. “How do you cheat on your husband before you’re even married?”

“Mike and I dated exclusively for two years. A few months before our wedding, we had an argument and broke up. I was devastated. I leaned on someone who I thought was a friend, and he…I made a mistake. It wasn’t technically cheating, because Mike and I weren’t married. We weren’t even dating at that particular moment. But in my heart, I felt like a cheater. So I wasn’t lying when I answered ‘No’ to the lie detector question. But I felt like I was lying, so I’m sure that’s what the machine picked up.”

There was silence again, as if Rudsky were trying to make her squirm. Finally, the follow-up question came, “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

“It’s the truth.”

“I’m begi

She tightened her mouth, seemingly defensive. “What do you mean?”

“You claim there was a stalker.”

“There was.”

“But you can’t tell us what he looks like.”

“No.”

“You can’t tell us what he sounds like.”

“No.”

“You can’t tell us anything about him, except that he ‘could be anybody.’”

“I wish I could tell you more.”

“And this started how long before your daughter was murdered?”

“Several months.”

“But you never told the police anything about a stalker until after your daughter was murdered.”

“Calling the police would only have infuriated him.”

“You didn’t even tell your husband.”

“I thought he would make me quit my job, which we couldn’t afford. And I didn’t want him to haul off and do something stupid, like buy a gun. I didn’t want a gun in the house with a four-year-old child.”

“Let’s stop the lies, all right, Ms. Fe

Jack moved closer to the screen, sensing that the prosecutor was moving in for the kill. Sally was getting emotional, the strain of Rudsky’s accusatory tone having taken an obvious toll.

“I’m not lying,” she said, her voice quaking.

“The real reason you didn’t tell your husband about the stalker is that you were afraid he’d think you were cheating on him again.”

“That’s crazy.”

“You were cheating on him again, weren’t you? That’s why you didn’t tell the police you were being stalked.”

“You’re so wrong.”

“That’s why you didn’t tell your husband you were being stalked.”

“Not true.”

“What happened, Sally? You wouldn’t leave your husband, and your boyfriend got mad?”

“No.”

“So mad that he started stalking you?”

“No.”

“So mad that he killed your daughter?”

“No, no!”

Sally was practically in tears. No one offered her a tissue. She dabbed her eye with her sleeve.

“Come clean, Sally. The truth has already come out in your polygraph. There were signs of deception on one other answer you gave.”

“Which one?”

“You answered no to the following question: Do you know who killed your daughter?”

Her mouth fell open. “You think I was lying about that?”

“It’s right here in the examiner’s report. Your response shows signs of deception.”

“Then the machine is wrong,” she said.

“Or you’re lying,” said Rudsky.

Sally looked stu

“Let me tell you exactly what I’m saying.”

Jack watched as Rudsky’s hand suddenly reached for the video camera. With the push of a button, the screen went black.

“There’s no more?” said Kelsey.

“Try fast forwarding a few frames.”

She hit the button on the machine, but the tape was blank.

“Looks like that’s the end of it,” said Kelsey. “Though figuratively speaking, I’m definitely starting to get the picture.”

“Me, too,” said Jack in a hollow voice. “And it isn’t very pretty.”

Twenty-six

Kelsey had an afternoon class, so Jack drove her to the University of Miami law school. They rode in silence most of the way, listening to the radio. According to “News at the Top of the Hour,” a suspected terrorist was detained at the Port of Miami and would face deportation.

“Ooooh,” said Kelsey, a tinge of sarcasm in her voice. “Deportation. Now they’re really getting tough.”

“Yeah,” said Jack, scoffing. “You’d think they’d caught a puppy peeing on the rug. ‘Bad terrorist. Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad. Now go back to your training camp and don’t come out until you’ve learned how to sneak into this country properly.’”

She offered a little nervous laughter that was symptomatic of the times, and then they continued in silence down fraternity row, past the fields of sunta

“Jack, what do you think happened when Rudsky turned off that camera?”

“I’m sure he threatened her. Obstruction of justice, accessory after the fact to murder, and anything else he could think of.”

“Right. He threatened to throw her in jail unless…unless what?”

“Unless she told him who killed her daughter.”

“That’s where it all falls apart in my view. Maybe it’s because I’m a mother, but it’s hard for me to accept that Sally would have refused to identify the man who killed her child, no matter how torrid the love affair. Assuming there even was a love affair.”

“What about Susan Smith?”

“Who?”

“The married woman from South Carolina who locked her two sons in her car and sent them to the bottom of a lake so that she would be childless and more appealing to her lover.”

“Do you honestly think Sally Fe

“If Tatum Knight is to be believed, she was extreme enough to hire someone to kill her.”

“That was five years after her daughter was brutally murdered. You’re talking about a whole different time of her life. Before a tragedy like that, she was probably an entirely different woman.”

Jack glanced out the window, thinking. “That’s a valid point. But there are other reasons for Sally to have refused to identify her killer, reasons other than a sick sense of love.”

“Such as?”

“She might have been afraid to identify him. Like you said, he’d stabbed her already, murdered her daughter. Maybe she feared he would come back to finish the job.”

“Is that what Rudsky was driving at in the videotape?” asked Kelsey.

“It’s not clear. Maybe even Rudsky wasn’t sure if she was intentionally covering up for her lover or if she refused to identify the killer out of fear. Either way, he was clearly convinced by the polygraph results that, one, Sally was having an affair, and two, she knew the identity of her daughter’s killer.”

Kelsey shook her head and said, “If she was in fact covering up for her lover, then Sally was truly despicable.”

“Anyone would agree on that point. But if Rudsky had it all wrong-if she wasn’t covering up for anybody, and if she wasn’t even having an affair-then Sally was maligned in a way no mother should ever be maligned.”

“And if Deirdre Meadows was intent upon repeating those same accusations in her book, she was just as guilty as the prosecutor.”

“Which might explain why they both ended up on Sally’s list of beneficiaries. Her list of mortal enemies.”

Silence fell between them. Kelsey checked her watch, gauging her time till class started. “So where does this lead us?” she asked.

“It all comes back to the same question. Were they her enemies because their vicious accusations were false? Or because they exposed the ugly truth?”

“How do you suppose we get an answer to that?”