Chapter Twenty-Five
Present Day
The duck and potatoes and chocolate soufflé are churning in Midge’s stomach, and there’s a massive lump in her throat. She’s going to vomit, or cry, or both.
Because the thing Kelly just told them . . .
Talia repeats it. “Reverend B. was a pedophile?”
“Yes.”
“But . . . but . . . how do you know?”
“Toby found out. She’s the investigator I hired to look into Caroline and her family. She’s an old friend, actually. I’ve known her since my law school days, but I don’t think you’ve ever met her, since . . . you know.”
Right. Law school was a time when the three of them weren’t friends at all.
Everything had fallen apart a year after Caroline disappeared, because Midge thought they should come clean with what they knew, and Kelly and Talia thought they should keep Caroline’s secret, as promised.
Majority ruled.
Friendship splintered.
They lost touch.
Midge wasn’t the least bit surprised when she heard through the Mulberry Bay grapevine about Kelly’s first divorce. But she was shocked—and yes, very glad—to later hear her former friend had since gotten her undergraduate degree and was at Stanford Law.
“Kelly,” Talia says, “are you saying . . . Do you think Caroline and Reverend B. . . . ?”
“I don’t want to think it.”
“Neither do I,” Midge says.
“Maybe it’s not true.”
“Oh, it’s definitely true,” Kelly tells Talia. “There are too many accusers and reliable witnesses who claimed there was something off about him, and apparently there’s some concrete evidence, as well.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Talia says. “I believe that Reverend B. was a disgusting pervert, but maybe he didn’t hurt Caroline that way?”
“Talia—”
“No, Kelly, wait—I mean, how could we not have suspected if she was dealing with something like that? We were so close! We saw her every single day, and she was always so sweet and sunny. If that man was—”
“Talia, she wasn’t,” Midge cuts in. “Those last few months, before she vanished, she wasn’t herself. She was quiet, and she pulled back from all of us. I was so busy with spring sports, but I noticed it.”
“So did I,” Kelly said, “even though I was so busy with . . . well, partying it up.”
“We were all caught up in our own stuff,” Talia says. “I was obsessed with my role in the spring musical senior year.”
“You had the lead,” Kelly says. “I remember that. You were Lady Macbeth.”
“Kelly! Macbeth wasn’t a musical; it was our sophomore play. Senior year, we did Grease, and I didn’t have a lead. I was a Pink Lady!”
“Okay, do I look like IMDb? All I know is that you were in some show that we all went to see.”
“Not Caroline,” Talia says. “I thought it was because I kept trying to convince her to audition for Sandy, but when I found out she was pregnant, I assumed that was the reason.”
“Maybe the pregnancy was just the tip of the iceberg,” Kelly says. “When I remember how that man acted so concerned after she went missing . . .”
“He led a candlelight vigil,” Talia says. “We all went. And I remember him joining the search parties combing the woods and fields around Haven Cliff too. How could he have done that if he did . . . well, what you’re saying he did?”
The knot in Midge’s stomach tightens. “We were a part of all that too. And we knew we weren’t going to find her.”
“Are you defending him, Midge?”
“No! It’s just, the more I find out about Caroline’s past, the more I hate what we did.”
“I hate what we didn’t do,” Talia says.
“We were kids being kids,” Kelly points out. “And this isn’t about us. This is about Bauer.”
“When was he accused?” Midge asks.
“The first one was in 2013, and by then he’d left the ministry, but I’m sure it was going on long before that.”
“Where was he in 2013?”
“Teaching theology on the adjunct faculty at a college near El Paso. The news got out, and others came forward from other places where he’d been teaching and ministering. Students, and former congregants.”
“Including here? At Congregational?” Midge asks.
“Not that I can tell.”
“Why didn’t we even hear about this until now?” Talia asks. “About him, I mean?”
“Maybe it’s just too pervasive,” Kelly says.
Midge nods. “Cases involving schools and churches and sex abuse were exploding in those years. I’ve investigated a few. There were massive cover-ups, victim shaming, scandal, and repercussions for educators on every level and organized religions of every denomination.”
“There’s plenty of denial as well,” Kelly adds. “Especially when it comes to church leaders. Misguided people are willing to protect them from what they perceive as unfounded attacks. Some of those people are powerful enough to succeed in that effort.”
“Or in covering up crimes they’re aware of.” Midge’s voice is tight. “What happened to him?”
“To Reverend B.?”
“Yes.” She braces herself for the answer, wondering if she might actually have seen him today after all, back at the church office.
Intellectually, she knows that’s impossible. Of course it was the substitute pastor, Joseph Nielson.
But when you’re working a missing person case involving a pretty teenage girl and you hear the word pedophile, well . . .
That’s just where your mind goes.
“He was eventually indicted in Texas,” Kelly says. “There was a trial.”
“Good!” Talia says. “I hope this monster was convicted and he’s rotting behind bars somewhere.”
Kelly shakes her head. “He isn’t. The case finally went to court just last year. There was a hung jury.”
“So it was a mistrial,” Midge says.
“Yes. And then it was dropped.”
“But how is that possible?” Talia asks.
“It happens a lot, unfortunately. I didn’t practice criminal law, only corporate, but I know that in cases like rape and sexual abuse, victims are already traumatized, and then they have to relive it all in court.
The defense can be brutal toward the victim.
Sometimes it’s in their best interests not to be put through hell yet again. ”
“But you mentioned that other accusers had come forward,” Midge says. “What happened with those cases?”
“Nothing. I think he disappeared before they went anywhere.”
“What do you mean, he disappeared?”
“I have no idea, Midge. Apparently, no one knows.”
“What about his family?” Talia asks. “Wasn’t he married?”
“His wife claims she has no idea where he went. They have grown children, and they all say the same thing.”
“I don’t buy that. I bet they know something,” Talia says. “I bet someone does.”
“You said he was living in El Paso?” At Kelly’s nod, Midge goes on, thinking out loud. “I’ve been there. It’s a border city. You can stroll across a pedestrian bridge to Juárez the way you’d walk a few blocks somewhere else.”
“So you think Reverend B. took a stroll to Mexico?”
“It’s certainly a possibility. If he was lucky enough to get off the hook for that first trial, it would have to be pretty tempting to escape another one.”
“And another, and another, and so on,” Kelly says.
“According to Toby, accusers were coming out of the woodwork. Look, I know it won’t bring Caroline back, but if he hurt her in any way .
. . don’t we owe it to her, and to everyone else he might have abused, to find him and keep this from happening again?
Midge, can you look into it? I know you have resources you can use. ”
“I’ll do whatever I can, but it’s difficult to find someone who doesn’t want to be found. Send me whatever you’ve got from Toby.”
“I will. There’s a lot of background information about him. His family too. You can see in the old photos that everything was staged to make it look like they had a perfect, wholesome life. But then you see his mug shot, and all the stuff from the trial, and wow, what a difference.”
“I feel sorry for his wife and kids,” Talia says. “I remember them.”
“Why don’t I remember them?” Kelly asks.
“Because they were younger, or because you only noticed the cool kids, or because you didn’t take piano lessons. They had the same teacher I did, so I used to see them.”
“What were they like?” Midge asks.
“The girls were quiet. Kind of shy. Really polite. The boys—”
“Hey, Midge? Where are y’all?” Nap calls from the front of the house. “I’ve got to get going.”
“Be right there!” she calls back and climbs off the stool.
“Sorry, we’re coming!” Kelly follows her, saying in a low voice, “Please don’t tell him about this.”
“Are you kidding? I would never.”
She turns to Talia. “And Tal—”
“Never. Right now, all I want to do is wrangle my daughter to bed and go to sleep myself. But before we go in there, I have to ask, Midge . . . what’s up with you and Nap?”
“What do you mean, what’s up with us?”
“She wants to know if you two are having a torrid fling,” Kelly says. “And so do I.”
“Sorry to disappoint you two, but we’re just colleagues.”
“What I’m hearing is that it just hasn’t happened yet,” Kelly tells Talia.
“You might want to have your hearing checked,” Midge says.
“Oh, come on, admit it, Midge,” Talia says. “You know you like having him around. He fits right in with all of us.”
“I’ll admit that. He does. And okay, I do like having him around. He’s interesting, and he has some good stories. He gets my job; I get his. But we’re both too busy for . . . torrid.”
Five minutes later, Midge, Nap, and Linden are walking toward their cars.
“I really appreciate your inviting me, Midge,” Nap says. “It was fun.”
“It was fun,” she agrees, and she means it. Torrid or not, busy or not, she was glad to have him here tonight.
“You have my number in your phone now, Nap,” Linden says. “Text me and I’ll send you that info on Slovenia.”
“Slovenia?”
“I’m going next month on vacation,” Nap tells Midge. “Linden was just there in April.”
“That’s some coincidence.”
“Not really. We both listened to the same podcast about underrated travel destinations,” Nap says. “And it’s a use-it-or-lose-it situation—the time off and an airline credit that expires at the end of the year.”
“I think my vacation days are all going to be in the lose-it category this year.” Lest he think she’s hinting for him to invite her on the trip, she adds, “But if I can take some time off when Walt’s back, all I want to do is hang around here and relax.”
“Come on, Midge, you need to live a little. And poor Nap is going to Slovenia all alone.”
“Linden! A lot of people enjoy solo travel.”
“Take it from me: It’s overrated. You should tag along,” Linden says in his Linden way, unaware—or not caring—that she and Nap aren’t together, together.
“You know what’s underrated?” Midge asks with a yawn. “I mean, besides Slovenia? Sleep. I’ve got a long day tomorrow. Good night, guys.”