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"I'm sorry," he said. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I--"

"I know."

"I didn't--"

"Just . . . give me a minute."

I lifted my gaze to the road, staring at a yard with no flowers, no bikes, just an empty planter. The photo from the pictures, the house he'd been walking into. I thought of him sauntering up that drive and--

My stomach clenched.

"Let's go," Jack said.

"No, just . . . just wait. Please."

I took a few deep breaths, then lifted the photos, now scattered at my feet. I set them on my lap and stared down at the pile.

"David Miller is Drew Aldrich," I said.

Jack nodded. I clenched my fists and fought for calm. When I found enough of it, I said, "I looked for him. After I became a cop. I don't know what I planned to do." I paused. "No, I'm pretty sure I know what I planned to do, even if I told myself I just wanted to keep an eye on him, wanted to make sure he didn't hurt anyone else. But I couldn't find him."

"Wasn't easy. Took me--"

I cut him off. "You said this isn't his first alias. How many?"

"Four."

"After the trial, he moved to the States. That should have been enough. So why take on an alias? Something else happened, didn't it."

Jack was silent for a moment, then said, "Your uncle went after him. Tracked him down. Beat the shit out of him. Someone intervened. Saved his fucking life. Unfortunately."

"I never heard . . . They didn't talk . . ." After Aldrich walked, I hadn't heard another word about it. His name became taboo in our family. I thought they'd put it aside and moved on. I should have known better.

"So after Uncle Eddie went after Aldrich, he decided to change his name. But then he kept changing it. When did he become David Miller?"

"Not important. Point is, he's Miller."

I flipped through the file and found what I was looking for.

"David Miller joined the Newport police force four years ago," I said. "My uncle has been dead for ten years. My dad died eight years ago. He wasn't running from them."

Silence.

"Did they ever find him after the first time?" I asked.

Jack exhaled. "Don't see why--"

"You know why." Anger shot through me. "Do you think I'm too stupid to figure out why he had to keep changing his name? Amy was just the first. He got away with it, so he didn't stop. There were other girls."

"Investigations, yeah. Statutory rape. Unlawful restraint. Always took off before he got charged. Ran. Changed his name."

"Did any of those girls disappear?"

"No. Charges were filed by parents."

"Who found out he was sleeping with their underage daughters, which doesn't mean he wasn't doing anything worse--just that he learned to hide it better."

Jack opened his mouth then shut it again. There was no way to know, without a doubt, that he'd never killed again.


Tags: Kelley Armstrong Nadia Stafford Mystery