Page 53 of Find Me

“How badly was he hurt?”

“Just a black eye and a cut on his cheek, from the guy’s wedding ring.” Her voice didn’t disguise her disgust at the mention of a ring. “He told us if we said anything, no one would believe us and we’d get in trouble for lying, but my parents could see that Alex was injured.”

“So you told them,” Lindsay said.

“Not at first. I wanted Alex to say he got hit by a softball, but he didn’t want to lie. He told them what he saw when he walked into that house. I still remember the way they looked at me. I felt so guilty.”

“You were the victim. You were just a kid.”

“I didn’t feel like one. I was fourteen, and I looked even older than that. At least that’s what he told me. Look, I’ve read a lot about this since then, so I understand now that he was grooming me. But at the time? I felt complicit. He would tell me a joke, and if I laughed, he’d say I understood his sense of humor better than his wife did. He gave me a copy of his favorite book. He’d practice the high school Spanish he remembered, but it was always something like ‘Eres tan bonita’ or ‘Me allegro de que somos amigos’—You’re so pretty, I’m so glad we’re friends. I liked the attention. We had kissed a few times before that, and I have to be honest—it was thrilling in the moment.”

“You werefourteen,at a summer camp,” Lindsay said. “And you said this person was a grown man. He had a wife and a wedding ring.” Lindsay noticed that Emilia still had not spoken her abuser’s name.

“Of course. But I was just old enough that I was willing to take on some of the responsibility. To see myself as participating in it. I realize in retrospect that’s exactly what he wanted. He manipulated the mixed emotions any girl that age is starting to feel about love and sexuality. But he was supposed to be there to guide us and help us, and instead... well, he followed me inside and tried to take my virginity.”

“But Alex stopped him, and then told your parents.”

“He wanted to call the police and file a report, but my mother and father—we couldn’t risk it.”

“Because of their immigration status,” Lindsay said, completing the thought.

Another call was coming through on her phone. She glanced at the screen. Scott, pressing her to get to the courthouse, but she wasn’t about to cut short her conversation with Emilia. Even if she managed Hope’s release, police in both Long Island and Wichita would continue to probe her possible connections to Alex Lopez.

“Alex had a mentor at the camp and told him everything. He said he couldn’t promise that our immigration status wouldn’t be a problem if we filed charges. According to him, the volunteer I was accusing was very powerful and could use his influence against our family, so he offered to investigate quietly on his own. If he found any other victims in a pattern, perhaps the other girls could be the ones to testify and I wouldn’t need to be involved. But then he came back and said he was squeaky clean, and that really sealed the deal for my parents. It was clear they thought I had done something to encourage his attention.”

“I’m sorry. That must have been awful.”

“Well, thanks to a whole lot of therapy, I understand now it was cognitive dissonance. They didn’t want to feel like they were giving their own daughter’s victimizer a free pass in order to protect their own security, so it was easier to place the responsibility on me. The whole thing sort of split our family apart. The same way my parents subconsciously blamed me, I think I resented Alex for telling them in the first place. The whole situation was always simmering beneath the surface, even though we literally never spoke of that man ever again. I didn’t even realize until after he was killed that he was such a big deal. I can see why they were afraid to have me go on record against him.”

After he was killed.The camp. The rumors. A powerful man who volunteered. Why hadn’t Lindsay seen the connection earlier? “Richard Mullaney,” she said, hoping Emilia would confirm her theory.

“We just knew him as Hitch,” she said. “We had no idea he wasmarried to such an important person. Alex left town a few days after we saw the news that he died. I think seeing that man’s face again—even on TV—brought back all of the pain of how we were treated as disposable. And that we were forced into this decision where we let him get away with it. Alex was always so sweet and protective, but he had this underlying anger—a low boil—about having to make adjustments every single day because of our legal status. I really hope he has found a better life now. I was able to go to college, and now I’m starting law school in the fall. No one’s ever going to silence me that way again.”

Lindsay’s phone was beeping again. She needed to go, but she didn’t feel right keeping the death of this woman’s brother from her. “Emilia, I’m so very sorry, but Alex passed away last week. The police here are investigating it as a homicide.”

She winced as she heard the sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. “Oh god no, that can’t... No, I just—” Emilia caught herself and fell silent.

“You just reconnected with him,” Lindsay said. “He called you two Saturdays ago, late at night. You spoke for quite some time.”

“How do you know that?”

“It’s part of another case I’m working. I’m sorry not to give you more time to grieve, but I think the key to helping my client is to figure out who shot your brother.”

“So that’s how he died? Someone shot him?”

Lindsay apologized once again for pushing on with her questions. “Had you been in regular contact with him over the years?”

“Not at all. He left and never came back. Like I said, I thought he wanted a clean break from our whole family.”

“But then he called you that Saturday night. What did he say, Emilia? I think it was the reason he was murdered.”

“It’s like you said. He called . . . late. He sounded a little drunk and said he was going to jail. I thought maybe he was asking me for legalhelp or something, and I was like, After all these years, you come to me for help? But then he told me—”

She stopped herself again mid-sentence, leaving Lindsay to guess again. “He told you that he shot Richard Mullaney,” she said. “He’s gone now, Emilia. This has to be the reason he was killed. Please trust me. I want to help.”

“I was in total shock. He said he and some friends were partying in some fancy house while the family was out of town. He saw some pictures and realized the dad was the guy from the camp—Hitch. Alex freaked out and started throwing things and breaking stuff. He was leaving when Hitch pulled into the driveway, got out with a gun, and told him to freeze. Alex charged at him, and the gun went off. He could tell that Hitch was dead, and there was nothing he could do, so he just ran. The next day, he went back to that cop he knew when we were kids. The cop told Alex that it wouldn’t matter if the shooting was an accident, or even if we could prove what Hitch had done to me. It was felony murder, no matter what. So that’s why Alex left town.”

“To start over,” Lindsay said. “From all appearances, he was never a suspect in Richard Mullaney’s murder. So why did he call you and say he was going to jail?”

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