"How old was she when she died? Was she ill long?"

"Annie was murdered, Ben. She was abducted and her body wasn't found for six weeks. She was almost thirteen."

"God! That's terrible!"

"Howie has no recollection and his mother won't even discuss the subject. That's probably a good thing. When my aunt practically insisted he visit me, I was scared to death wondering what he knew or why he wanted to come." I didn't know where this was going so I paused until she continued. "Promise this will be between us." I agreed.

"Howie was supposed to be looking after his sister. He wasn't exactly babysitting . . . she wasn't that young, but he snuck off someplace and she was taken. My aunt never said it out loud or even admitted it, but she blamed her son. Everybody could see it, the way she treated him. More so, he blamed himself. That's why he got all holy and sanctimonious and decided to be a priest. I didn't know him all that well but in my mixed up mind I was sure it was some sick way to make things right. I resented the hell out of it." When I didn't respond, she continued. "I know, I know. I was just a stupid teenager; mad as shit on my shoe at losing my best friend."

"How come I never heard about this? You and I spent hours together, for years and years."

"That was my summer life. You were part of my school life and the rest of the seasons. I didn't mix the two. Besides, I couldn't even talk about Annie without bawling my eyes out."

"Did they catch the person who did it?"

"Sort of. There was a guy, Willard Humphries, who they arrested for raping another young girl, a few years later. They were sure he murdered Annie because he lived nearby at the time but they couldn't prove it. He was sent to jail, but only for the rape they could prove."

"Is he still in jail?"

"I'd have no idea. I don't know what the sentence for rape was back then."

"Did you see Howie after his sister died?"

"Once. That's what I was afraid he'd remember. He came up to the cabin the week before he was leaving for the seminary, four or five years later. I told him a big fat lie in front of you this past weekend."

"What did you lie about?" I remembered a question he'd asked. "Tell me you didn't sleep with him!"

"Yes, I slept with him, damn it!" She must have sensed my disbelief. "Don't go prude on me, Ben."




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