Counterfeit Son (16 page)

To his relief, Stevie sniffled, then rubbed his eyes and stood up straighter. "What do I do?"

Cameron looked out to shore. "How do we dock?" he called, afraid of meeting Neil's father's eyes.

"Neil?" There was a catch in the man's voice, but he'd called him Neil. Hadn't Diana told him the truth? "Are you hurt?"

"I'm okay," Cameron called, relaxing the sail to slow down. "But I don't know how to dock. And I wrecked the Sunfish. I'm sorry." And he
was
sorry, about everything. But that wouldn't make the punishment any less. Being sorry was never enough.

"Don't worry about it," the man called, his voice calmer now. "Just aim for the dock, drop the mainsheet, and watch out for the boom."

Cameron glanced down briefly to check Cougar, but the man still huddled on the deck of the boat, tears trickling across his unshaven face, catching in the puckered scar. Cameron looked away quickly, before tears could blur his own eyes, and showed Stevie how to aim. Then he dropped the sail and caught the boom as it swung back suddenly. He told Stevie to turn the tiller a little to the left so they'd come up beside the dock instead of crashing into it, then grabbed the mooring lines, and as soon as he thought Neil's father was in reach, Cameron threw first one line, then the second to him.

"We did it," Stevie said, delighted.

"Good sailing," Cameron told him.

His father was already lifting Stevie out as though he were a much smaller boy, and wrapping his arms around him, unmindful of the water from the boy's damp clothes spreading to his suit. Cameron felt relieved that Stevie was safe, but he wasn't looking forward to what was coming. His head and arm hurt, and he was so tired. He couldn't remember ever having felt so tired before, even after helping Pop bury one of the boys.

"Neil?"

He looked up slowly, and Neil's father held out one hand, still holding Stevie in his other arm. "Come on," he said gently.

Cameron took the hand and climbed unsteadily out of the boat, shivering from the cold water still sloshing across the deck. The broken bone in his leg that had healed badly gave way under him, so that he stumbled forward. Another hand caught him, and Cameron looked up to see Detective Simmons. He flinched instinctively, but the man's face didn't look as hard as he remembered.

Simmons said, "So you actually caught Bill Scott red-handed?"

Cameron pointed to the boat deck. A mess of foam and water had sloshed over Cougar's face as they docked, and he now lay groaning weakly.

"Neil? Stevie?"

The voice came from the side of the house, and Cameron realized that he hadn't looked around to see who was there. Neil's mother was running down the lawn, with Diana beside her. She must have just arrived.

"What happened?"

"I was just sitting in the boat, honest," Stevie explained, as his father passed him to his mother to hold. "I had my life jacket on and everything, just like you said, Dad. And that man came down to the dock. I heard the footsteps, but I thought it was Neil, because he'd said he wanted to do something with me today."

Of course,
Cameron thought numbly. Stevie had been angry and hurt, but he hadn't gone too far away because deep inside he hoped his big brother would come find him and do something with him like he'd promised. Hope dies hard.

"But it wasn't Neil; it was this strange man. He smelled funny. And he climbed right into the boat, and when I asked who he was he said he was a friend of my brother's, and then when I told him not to untie the ropes he hit me."

Cameron winced, and sensed they were all looking at him.

"But then Neil came and got me," Stevie went on. "He sailed right up and smashed into the boat just like a navy warship—
POW!
He told the man to let me go and take him instead, and when the man laughed at him and called him something, I forget—used something—Neil climbed right up and fought with him! He made me get in the cabin, and the man hit him with his belt and there was this screaming and then everything got quiet, and when I came out the man was lying on the deck and there was foam everywhere and Neil said he'd take me home "

There was silence, and Cameron wondered how they were going to explain to Stevie that he didn't have a brother anymore, after all.

"Neil saved me," Stevie said, in case they hadn't got the point.

"He certainly did," said his father.

"I'm sorry," Cameron whispered He stared down at the blades of grass and blinked his eyes "He blamed me and Pop—Hank Miller—for sending him to prison, and he wanted to get even He found out I was here and he came asking me for money." He shook his head. "I—I stole some of your jewelry to try to make him go away, but then he wanted the key to the house so he could look the place over himself and take what he wanted, and when I wouldn't he said he'd take Stevie "

He heard Neil's mother cry out, whether in anger at his taking her jewelry, or in horror at the danger he'd put Stevie in, he didn't know He swallowed "I tried to warn Stevie," he said, his voice so low that he didn't think anybody heard him.

"You tried to tell me last night, didn't you?" Neil's father asked suddenly.

Cameron nodded. "But I should have tried harder." His voice rose uncontrollably. "I should have tried harder to warn Stevie. I should have tried harder with all the boys—it was all my fault because I never tried hard enough!"

"Neil—" the man began.

"And I'm not Neil!" he shouted. "Didn't Diana tell you? I'm Cameron Miller! My father murdered Neil!"

There was a high-pitched scream, and Cameron looked up to see Neil's mother cover her mouth, squeezing Stevie tightly to her.
Shell hit me now,
he thought,
the way she hit Diana when she said I wasn't Neil.
But the woman just stood there, and this time Neil's father didn't go to her. He stayed close to Cameron.

"Neil—"

"I picked Neil Lacey from the files," Cameron interrupted. "Ask Detective Simmons—he can tell you about the files."

Simmons cleared his throat. He had handcuffed Bill Scott and was standing in the boat, holding the fire extinguisher in one hand. "Miller kept a file cabinet near where he buried the bodies, Mr. Lacey," he told Neil's father. "There was a file for every boy he had abducted and killed, a collection of news clippings about the missing boy and the search for him."

Neil's mother gasped, but his father was stony faced. "Go on."

Simmons sighed. "It's fairly common for serial killers to keep souvenirs of their victims. Sometimes they keep personal items, a watch, say, or a wallet, or photographs of each victim. Sometimes they'll keep locks of hair or something like that. Miller kept news clippings."

"And I read them, "Cameron broke in. "I read them all. He'd lock me in the cellar while he did it, while he hurt the boys and then killed them, and I found the file cabinet because I was trying to get away from the smell, and I picked Neil from the files because…" His voice began to run down. "Because of the sailboats," he finished lamely. He shook his head and repeated uselessly, "I'm sorry."

"No!" Neil's mother said suddenly. "No—I don't believe it. This is—"

"It will be all right, Annie," Neil's father said quickly, glancing over to where she knelt on the grass, hugging Stevie. "Don't—Remember what the doctor said about the amnesia. Just wait. We have to get through this, but it will be all right. Trust me."

"But he lied to us—" Neil's mother broke off and she looked at Cameron with helpless bewilderment.

"Neil didn't lie," Stevie said, looking confused.

"He lied," Neil's mother whispered. She looked at Detective Simmons. "You were right," she said unsteadily. "You said you didn't believe in happy endings."

The detective cleared his throat again. "Mrs. Lacey," he said awkwardly, "I didn't buy that business about the amnesia at first. It just seemed too convenient. That's why I was so sure that Miller's son was taking advantage of you. And I have to admit—I was pretty angry with you, all of you—obstructing the tests." His eyes flickered to Neil's father's face. "Refusing to allow the DNA test."

Neil's mother looked uncertainly at her husband over Stevie's head, her eyebrows drawn together. "Jon?"

"I—" For once, the man seemed at a loss for words. "I was afraid," he said finally, his voice low. "Facts—every day I see how they don't always fit together to show the truth. I trusted what I believed—"

"But you thought he was lying!" she said, her eyes wide and shocked.

"No, Mrs. Lacey," Detective Simmons said quickly. "I was the one who thought he was lying, and I was wrong. I did a lot of work on my own time, some of it talking to guys on the task force—there aren't that many cases of kids surviving, but in nearly all of them the victims experience partial or complete amnesia. I guess it's the only way a kid can live with what's happened to him."

Cameron crouched on the lawn, shivering. What difference did the amnesia make?

Simmons went on, "And the tests—"

"Forget the tests," Neil's father said sharply. He came toward Cameron, and the boy recoiled. Now the punishment would come. If only he could remember the problem with what the man had said before, he might know what to expect. It was easier to bear if you knew.

"Please—I'm sorry I took the jewelry—I never wanted to take anything. I didn't really pick Neil because of the money, even though Cougar said I did—it was the sailboats. I used to dream of sailing, when I was locked in the cellar, and while he—" He bit off the words.

Neil's father took off his suit jacket and knelt down beside Cameron. "Here," he said quietly. "Put this on."

When Cameron made no move to take it, the man draped it gently around his shoulders. Then he stood up and went back to Detective Simmons and took the fire extinguisher from him. He stood a moment, turning it over in his hands.

"How did you know where to find this?" he asked.

Cameron looked at him, confused. "I didn't. He was coming at me with his belt, and I didn't have anything. I kept thinking there must be something I could use somewhere, if I only knew where to look." He laughed shortly. "Neil would have known, you see? Neil would have remembered."

Cameron looked around until he saw Diana. She was standing near her mother and brother, her brown eyes dry, and almost kind. "Didn't you tell them?" he demanded. "She figured it out—she saw I wasn't like Neil, she saw I didn't remember Neil's jokes, or like the same kind of books, or know how to talk to Stevie, or anything."

"I saw you were a lot nicer," Diana said softly. "But last night, and today—the way you fidgeted in the dining room, and the way you rushed around, so determined to find Stevie—it was like you weren't trying so hard, and you seemed more like Neil would be…"Her voice trailed off.

Cameron remembered how worried he'd been about Cougar. The part of his mind that rigorously kept track of Pop's rules and made him watch his every move had been focused on keeping Stevie safe, so he guessed he must have been acting more on instinct. But Diana wasn't making any sense—his instincts should have made him act less like Neil than ever, not more.

After a moment, Neil's father asked, "How did you find the fire extinguisher, then?"

"I don't know—I was looking for anything, for a door, for something—and I saw this little door with a hook on it, and I unhooked the latch and reached inside, thinking there might be something I could use."

"And you found this?"

Cameron glanced at the fire extinguisher, wondering what difference all this made, and nodded.

"So you used it?"

He nodded again. "I—I shot it in his eyes, and he screamed like it hurt a lot." He winced again. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to make him stop."

"I hope you blinded him," Neil's father said flatly. "Don't waste another thought on him What did you do next?"

Cameron frowned. "I was afraid he'd wipe the foam out of his eyes and come for me or Stevie again, so I hit him in the leg. Hank—Pop hit the boys on the thigh so they couldn't run. Me, too, when he got mad." He saw Neil's father brace himself as though against a blow, and felt the guilt and shame burning up into his face. He made himself go on. "Then Stevie came out of the cabin, and we sailed back. I'm sorry about the Sunfish. Will it be all right?"

"It'll be fine," the man said, taking a deep breath. "Now, why did you open that compartment?"

Cameron shrugged. "It was the only door I saw."

"There are compartments all around the sides of the cockpit, for storing extra sails and sheets and gear. Why did you open that one?"

"What difference does it make?" Cameron asked tiredly. Why didn't Detective Simmons just put another pair of handcuffs on him, and take him away with Cougar? "It must have been the first one I saw."

"I don't think so," Neil's father said. "I think you went for that one because you knew what was in it."

"But—" Cameron looked at him blankly. "How could I have known? I've never been on board that boat before."

"Neil has."

"But—"

"That was Neil's special hiding place," his father went on, in that dispassionate voice. "He put things there for safekeeping whenever we went sailing. The last thing he insisted on putting there was this fire extinguisher. Even though it was a pretty crazy place to put it from an adult's perspective, I could see it was an easy-to-get-to place for a little kid. And after he disappeared, I left it there."

"But I couldn't know that," Cameron said.

"Neil knew it."

"But I'm not Neil," Cameron whispered.

Neil's father walked over to him and sat down directly in front of him, oblivious to the damp grass. "Listen to me. The head of the forensics team phoned me this morning, before Diana called. They've been working overtime to identify the bodies, to set the other parents' minds at rest. I guess they used the files you saw as an aid to match the dental records and other features with specific boys from the missing children list, and they have identified every body but one. That one is not Neil."

"But there were twenty-two files," Cameron said unsteadily. "And you said there were twenty-three bodies. One was the new boy, Josh, so the others had to match the files."