Haunted (Michael Bennett 10)

Sandy said, “Can we ask you a few questions first?”

The heavyset white man turned and signaled us to follow him into the house. I started to wonder if there might be some racial overtones to this disappearance. Many people mistakenly thought the majority of racially motivated crimes took place in the South. They didn’t seem to take into account places like Boston, where resistance to school integration was as strong as anywhere in the country. There were still a number of hate crimes committed across the Northeast. I was hoping that wasn’t the case here.

The house was quiet, and the only lights on were in the living room, at the front of the house. I caught a quick glimpse of a spectacular view through the windows at the rear.

Mr. Bacon said, “Let’s try to keep it down if we can. I’ve got two other kids asleep upstairs, and they have school in the morning.”

I noticed photos on the wall, just as there had been at Tricia Green’s home. The difference was that almost every photo showed Mr. Bacon either holding a rifle and standing over a dead animal or holding up a giant dead fish on the back of a yacht. There was one photo of the whole family, and I saw that his wife was clearly a second wife and not that much older than Tom-Tom. The two younger boys were only three or four years old in the photo.

Now we had to ask some awkward questions about his first wife, including whether his son might want to travel to see her.

I wondered where else a kid like that might go. I forgot how hard a missing-persons case could be.

Chapter 51

The more Tom Bacon spoke, the more I realized he was sort of a dick. He owned a prosperous construction company and lived with his third wife, not his second. He tended to look at me when he spoke, as though Sandy didn’t matter. More than once, I redirected his attention to the real Maine cop in the room.

Bacon said, “I wouldn’t worry too much about Tom-Tom. He’ll show up. He and that skank from the trailer park are just off having a good time. Maybe he even went over to my ex-wife’s house. She doesn’t have the same rules I do.”

Sandy said, “Rules about what?”

“Drugs, for one thing. She lets those kids do anything they want. That’s how my daughter, Tom-Tom’s sister, ended up pregnant when she was only sixteen. Now she and her little brat live with my ex-wife. I never would’ve let that shit happen here.” Then he looked at me. “But you know how judges are during a divorce. The wife always gets everything.”

Sandy said, “Are you saying that Tom-Tom and Tricia use drugs?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Can’t you hear? Like all the kids now, they got interested in crazy shit. In my day, we used to smoke a little pot, but they’re dead set against inhaling any smoke. That doesn’t keep them from trying stronger shit like ecstasy or even heroin. That’s the new rage. They all like the feeling smack gives them.”

Sandy said, “But Tricia and your son were both on the school sports teams. Tricia played lacrosse, and they both ran track. How can you do that if you’re using heroin?”

“They would time it. They don’t use much during the season. But this time of year, no one’s playing any sports. Tom-Tom works for me a couple of days a week, but he can dig ditches with his head clouded. I can’t speak for what happens to that girl. I heard she’s so fast she got a scholarship to some school down south.”

I mumbled, “Auburn.”

Bacon said, “Good. As long as it’s far away from here.”

I thought about everything Mr. Bacon had said. I couldn’t believe they had a real heroin problem in the high school here. All I could think was, Shit: heroin up here in moose country?

Chapter 52

On the ride back to Mildew Manor, Sandy seemed distracted. After a long silence she said, “I guess our little town isn’t as perfect as I wished. That had something to do with my calling you about the rental house.”

I’d suspected as much. “If you have such a drug problem, why didn’t you call in the state police or maybe even the DEA?”

“Because I wanted to have my former partner back me up. Someone I could trust. The house you guys are renting has been abandoned for the last four years. I know the real-estate company that bought it. After they fixed it up around Christmas and rented it for a few weekends, I persuaded them to give you a great rate during the summer. I’m sorry, but this was all orchestrated by me.”

I didn’t like being deceived, but on the other hand, I had to admit that Sandy had been brilliant in orchestrating our vacation. And it wasn’t like the kids weren’t enjoying themselves.

Sandy said, “The locals used to call your place the Ghost House because they would occasionally see lights floating around inside and hear strange noises. I think it’s more likely that some homeless people were in there every once in a while.”

I said, “The Ghost House. I like it. That’s a name that’ll scare the shit out of the kids.”

Sandy laughed when she realized I wasn’t angry about being manipulated. She pulled into the driveway but left the engine running. “The problems started a few years ago. A couple of people moved in from out of state, and all of a sudden we started getting slammed with heroin. What happened to the days of kids smoking a little pot?”

“I have a friend who runs a drug task force in the city. He was telling me that once they started concentrating on getting prescription painkillers off the market, heroin exploded. He says it’s like trying to plug a leak in a dike. There just aren’t enough resources to do everything.”

Sandy let out a laugh and said, “I guess it doesn’t matter how big your city is. Everyone’s got the same problems.” She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “Thanks, Mike. You’re a lifesaver.”

It was my hope that Mary Catherine hadn’t looked out the window and seen that kiss. That little nothing.