Chapter 33
In the parking lot of the shiny new Burger King, they sat in the Subaru.
The air was heavy and greasy inside the car.
Jem picked at the fries and Whopper he’d ordered, but he couldn’t taste any of it.
Tean’s chicken sandwich was still in its wrapper.
Midday traffic ran steady on the road: a lot of trucks, a lot of Fords and Chevys.
A big old Mack blasted its horn as it rolled past, and a cloud of dust tumbled toward them.
“How’d you know?” Jem finally asked.
“I didn’t. I mean, I don’t know. But something was so strange. The behavior she was describing from Rydel. Withdrawn. The picking. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was some self-harm happening. And the way he acted toward Zeb.”
“You mean that he raped him.”
Tean nodded. “A lot of that kind of sexual assault is more about the victim acting out what’s been done to them.
The fact that it happened after the dad died, while Rydel was still bigger and stronger than Zeb.
Rydel is male, and there’s a statistical link between male victims of childhood sexual abuse and adult sexual aggression.
” Tean hesitated. “And there was just something strange about that house.”
“That house,” Jem corrected, “was seriously fucked up.”
“I don’t know,” Tean said again. “It was a guess.”
“It was a good guess.” Jem grabbed a fry but didn’t eat it. “Did you hear her? About the bruises on his neck?”
Tean nodded.
“And the bites on his arm.”
Another nod.
“Those didn’t come from a dog.”
“I don’t…” Tean looked out the window. “No. I don’t think so.”
“So, what? He’s doing the same shit that was done to him? Finding these poor bastards, choking them to death, biting them with those fucking teeth?”
“Something like that. Yes. I think so.”
Jem tried to think of a dozen different ways to frame the question. Finally he just said, “Why?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think he knows, not entirely. But he must have a lot of fear. A lot of pain. A lot of anger. And this probably makes him feel like he’s in control. For a little while.”
“Fuck that.”
Tean glanced over at him. “It’s just a guess.”
“No, I mean, fuck that fucking excuse. What, if something bad happens to you, you just get to do fucked-up shit to everybody else, and it’s not your fault?”
“I didn’t say he wasn’t responsible.”
“It’s fucking bullshit. Everybody makes choices.”
Tean looked like he might argue, but then his face smoothed out, and he said, “Yes. You’re right.”
About five seconds later, Jem threw the fry back into the paper holder. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry.”
“I’m in this super weird headspace.”
“Jem, it’s fine. It’s been a weird few days.”
“So, he’s doing it because someone did it to him. Does that help us?”
Tean took longer to answer. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He paused again, as though considering his next words. “I’m not an expert on any of this, you know. It’s just stuff I’ve picked up here and there.”
“Between reading about clowns dying in explosions. And rapping nuns who fly off their bikes.”
“That was one nun, and she was in Brazil.”
“You think this is why he’s killing guys.”
“I think there’s a link. He’s not a sex killer, I don’t think. Not in the traditional sense.”
“I thought you said that’s what this is all about. He gets some kind of release.”
“I still think there must be some kind of…pressure, for lack of a better word, that builds. But think about the young man we found in the barn. He’d been asphyxiated. Manual strangulation. But the other wounds were all post-mortem.”
Jem processed that for a moment. “He kills them, and then he does freaky shit to them?”
“Something like that. If this were a classic sex killing, it would be about sadism, torture. He’d take his time. And there would likely be signs of overkill.”
“Is that exactly what it sounds like?”
“Pretty much.”
Gathering their food—since by now, neither of them was going to eat—Jem said, “So why’s he killing them?”
“Manual strangulation isn’t fast. But it’s not prolonged, either. In fact, compared to other serial murderers, Rydel seems to kill quickly, and once it’s over—” Tean stopped. He shook his head. “I’m way out of my depths here.”
But Jem thought he knew. Not because he’d read any books—not if you didn’t count Dick and Jane Eat a Dick. But because he’d seen the dead man. And sometimes, things just made sense. “You’re thinking about his T-shirt.”
Tean raised his head. “Yes. It’s strange, isn’t it?”
“He’d pulled it over that guy’s face. Why cover his face after he’s dead?”
“There’s a lot of shame in victims of childhood sexual assault. A lot of self-blame. Powerlessness. I don’t know if he feels anything about killing these men, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s still carrying around those feelings from childhood.”
“Especially if he is gay,” Jem said. “If somebody did that stuff to you, and then later, you were attracted to men, that could fuck with your head.”
He didn’t say anything about Decker, but he could see the moment it landed for Tean.
But all Tean said was “Yes. I think it could.”
“So, what now? Is there some way to track him down with this information?”
“I’m not sure.” A weary half-smile crossed Tean’s face. “I was mostly trying to process what Tess told us.”
“God, there’s not enough time in the world to process all of that.”
“I think the next step would be to try to figure out what name Rydel might be using. Zeb might know. Or we could go back to that farmhouse and see if any documents were left around.”
“What about a database or something? Because I do not want to go back to that farmhouse.”
“Any information about an adoption would still be protected,” Tean said. “And that’s assuming it was ever official. It sounds like Rydel’s uncle or stepfather or whatever he was took the boy in. Especially in small towns like this, he could get away with whatever explanation sounded most likely.”
“Shit. So the sister-in-trouble story might not be true?”
“I don’t know. I’m just saying I doubt anyone looked into it too closely.” Tean sighed. “And if Zeb doesn’t know the last name, the police will have to see if they can get it through the proper channels.”
“Assuming it was official. Assuming Rydel wasn’t just some random kid.”
Tean gave another shake of his head, but it felt like surrender more than disagreement. “And if that’s the case, we’re back where we started.”
“Hold on, I’m going to be right back.” Jem got out of the Subaru. The wind shrieked in his ear and whipped through his hair as he jogged across the Burger King parking lot. He shoved the takeout bag into the trash can and then turned back toward the car.
Between one step and the next, the idea hit him, and he said, “Oh shit.”
“Kazen,” he said as he got back in the car.
“What about Kazen?”
“Tess said Rydel was always coming up with excuses for why he wasn’t around.”
“Right.”
“She said he lost his wallet.” Jem started the car and headed out of the parking lot. “And you know who else lost his wallet? Brennon. The night he was murdered.”
“Right,” Tean said slowly. “I guess that makes sense. We don’t have any reason to assume Brennon lost his wallet before then.”
“And it was probably a park or a trail or something. A spot where guys hook up and cruise. Because that’s the kind of place Rydel wanted to meet up with Daniel a few nights later.”
“Okay, but—” Tean stopped. “Jem, that’s brilliant.”
Jem grinned at him. “I bet you anything the little bitch is back home by now.”
“Well, don’t say, ‘little bitch.’” But then Tean frowned.
“What?”
“Hold on.”
As Jem started them west on the state highway, Tean placed a call.
“Hi, Lucy.” And then he broke off. “No, we’re still looking for Daniel.
No, I’m sorry, I don’t know when they’re releasing Ammon.
No, I’m sorry, they didn’t tell me they were going to release him.
Did they tell you that?” A pause. “No, but we’re trying— Lucy, I need to ask you a question, and I don’t have much time.
” After a moment, he said, “Do you have Kazen Shumway’s phone number?
No, that’s all right. What about his mom? Perfect. Thank you.”
“You want to call him?” Jem said. “He might run again.”
“I don’t think so. I think he was scared last time. I think if we handle this correctly, he’ll try to help us.” What sounded like disbelief thinned Tean’s voice. “For whatever reason, he really did seem to care about Brennon.”
And neither of them said, Like Daniel.
“Okay,” Jem said. “Put it on speaker and let me talk to the mom.”
“I can talk to the mom.”
“I know you can, babe.”
“I call people all the time for work.”
“I know,” Jem said again. “Run me through what you’re going to say.”
“I’m simply going to ask to speak to her son in connection with an ongoing investigation.”
“Right. See, that’s kind of why I said, ‘Let me talk to the mom.’”
“I think it would work. I think she’d be happy to help.” Tean placed the call and said, “But fine. You can talk to her.”
“See? This is why we make a great team.”
“Why? Because I do exactly what you tell me—”
“Hello?” asked a woman.
“Hi,” Jem said, voice bright. “Is this Mrs. Shumway?”
“Ms.,” she buzzed back at him. “May I help you?”
“I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am. I’m Prydon Weathersmane, and I’m calling on behalf of the KSL Stars program. We have an audition tape here from Kazen Shumway, and we can’t get in touch with him. He listed you as an emergency contact. Do you have any idea how—”
“Kazen!” the woman shouted away from the phone. And then, her voice coming back, “How much does it pay?”
“Well, you know, contractually, I’m not allowed to reveal that to anyone but the talent.”
“The talent?” Tean muttered.
Jem squeezed his knee, and he squirmed away.
“I’m his mother,” the woman said. “You’re not going to tell his mother?” And then, speaking away from the phone again, “It’s KSL Stars.”
“Jesus, Mom,” Kazen said, and the scraping and fumbling noises came across the line of what Jem suspected was a not-entirely-voluntary phone transfer. “Hi. Yeah, this is Kazen.”
“You tried to run away from me,” Jem said. “Don’t hang up. And don’t tip off your mom. Just smile and act happy like I’m giving you great news.”
Silence. And then Kazen muttered, “Mom, fuck off!” An indignant squawk followed, but it faded into the distance.
“You know who this is?” Jem asked.
“I don’t have to talk to you.”
“You can either talk to me now, or you can talk to me when I kick in your front door.”
“Kick it in?” Tean said under his breath.
Jem tried to squeeze his knee again, but Tean kept wriggling away.
“What?” Kazen asked.
“First of all, relax. I’m not trying to get you in trouble. I just have a few questions.”
After about three seconds, Kazen said, “Okay?” with all the patience of a belligerent teenager.
“Why’d you run?”
“I had Bren’s wallet, duh. I knew how it looked.”
“How’d you get his wallet?”
The silence stretched out.
“Just answer the question, dumbshit. I don’t care what you did.”
“I got it out of his car at the park.”
Jem held back an excited whoop. Score one. Tean straightened in his seat, intent on the phone.
“Why?” Jem asked.
“Because he’s such an asshole.” But then, voice thick with tears, Kazen said, “He could be such an asshole. I wanted to fuck with him. It’s not like I had a plan or anything. I saw his car. I tried the door. It opened. His wallet was in the glove compartment.”
“How many other wallets did you pick up that night?”
Kazen’s silence lasted a beat too long. “None.”
“Bad move. I’ll see you when I kick that fucking door off its hinges.”
“Bruh!” An explosive breath came across the call. “Just, like, a few.”
“That’s your thing? You go to hookup spots and steal wallets?”
“I go, because, you know. But sometimes they leave stuff out in plain sight. And you know they won’t call the police.”
And, Jem suspected, they didn’t call the police if they went to the park to meet a twenty-year-old, and he extorted them, or threatened them, or robbed them at knifepoint. But that, as far as Jem was concerned, was somebody else’s problem.
“How many did you get that night?”
Again, a silence that lasted a moment too long.
“You have got to get better at this,” Jem told him.
“I don’t know, man. That was, like, a week ago.”
“I want you to look at the IDs.”
“I don’t have them. I throw the wallets away. I just take the cash.”
“Bullshit. I don’t care what you do with them. I don’t care if you’re selling them or if you’ve got a collection or what. I just want to know if you still have the ones from last week. Did the police find them?”
Kazen almost tripped over his own lie. “Yeah, they took everything.”
“Double bullshit. Go get them from wherever you hid them. Look through them. We want a smaller guy, he’s white, in his thirties, dark hair. Maybe he has a mustache or scruff. The first name might be Rydel, but it might not.”
“Hold on.”
“Kazen, don’t do something stupid right now. Don’t make me drive all the way out there. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
“Fuck you,” Kazen said.
A minute of silence passed. Then another. And then rustling came across the phone, and Kazen said, “Rydel Owens?”
Tean’s hand tightened around the phone.
“That one,” Jem said. “You still have the wallet?”
“It’s, like, Carhartt. It’s kind of dope, actually.”
“Yeah, I don’t care. What’s in the wallet?”
“Some credit cards—Visa, Visa, Mastercard. This one is from a bank, so I guess it’s a debit card. Uh, insurance. He’s got one of the Kroger’s cards.”
“Any cash?” Jem asked dryly.
To his surprise, Kazen laughed and said, “It’s so weird, man. This one didn’t have any cash.”
“Uh huh. Read me the address on that license.” After Kazen finished, Jem said, “Do you have the number I’m calling you on?”
As though this was the most obvious thing in the world, Kazen said, “Yeah.”
“Take pictures of everything in that wallet and send them to this number.”
“Why?”
“So I don’t have to drive to your house and beat your ass, how’s that?”
“Bruh, you’re such an asshole.” And then, without missing a beat, “You’re hot, though.”
“Send me those pictures, Kazen.”
“You know I’m into older guys, right?”
“Goodbye.”
“I could meet you somewhere and…” He let it hang. “Give you this shit.”
“Jem has a boyfriend,” Tean said. “And you should consider chemical castration.”
And then he disconnected.
Jem looked at him.
“What?” Tean said. “You do. And he should. I mean, not to be sex negative—”
“That was extremely sex negative.”
“He was soliciting you!”
“God, I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” Tean said. “We should let Agent Trevino know about this.”
“Sure, give her a call.” And then Jem dropped his foot on the gas. “If she’s lucky, she can meet us there.”