Point Blank

distraction. We were led to believe a ritual serial killer might have murdered Erin Bushnell. We thought there might be other victims, and spent some time and effort looking for them
    —including all your former student lovers. And because they are all alive and well, it didn’t really settle comfortably that you were some maniac serial killer.”
    Gordon’s face went white. “You believed I was capable of that? A killer who did that over and over?”
    “They made it look possible,” Ruth said. “But we know now it isn’t.”
    Dix said, “Whatever else Dempsey and Slater were, they were savvy when it came to their own survival. Until they made the mistake of coming after Ruth.”
    Gordon sat down on the piano bench, then looked over at Ruth. “However did you get away from them in that cave?”
    “That’s a good question. I know that if they realized I was there they would have killed me. They killed Walt, so there is no doubt they would have killed me, too. We believe that after I inhaled or touched the drug they used on Erin, I fell and struck my head. Still, I must have gotten my wits together enough to find my way out of the cave without them seeing me, maybe after they left. And I must have wandered through the woods until I collapsed near Dix’s house.”
    “But that’s at least four, five miles from Winkel’s Cave.”
    Ruth shrugged. “Neither Dix nor I can figure any other way I could have ended up in his woods.”
    “She’s in excellent shape,” Dix said, bringing Gordon’s attention back to him. “So even while she was hallucinating and sick, she could have wandered for hours. We figure Dempsey and Slater must have told Helen about finding Ruth’s car, with her wallet locked inside. So they knew she was an FBI agent. I’ll bet that shook them, because they had to believe she knew what they’d done. I imagine they searched for her for hours.”
    Dix continued, “Helen must have contacted them when she learned I found an unconscious woman in my woods who couldn’t remember what had happened to her. It didn’t seem like they had a choice, really, so they risked coming to my house Saturday night to kill her. The only thing they didn’t count on was dying.”
    Gordon was shaking his head. “I still can’t believe someone as devoted and kind as my Helen would have hired men like Dempsey and Slater. No, I think this is all a ruse to try to trap me somehow. I know you believe I hired them, maybe with Chappy’s help since he knows so many people in Richmond. That’
    s what you believe, isn’t it?”
    Dix said, “Oh no, Gordon, you’re being the actor here. You do believe Helen did it because she called you on Wednesday night and told you what she’d done. And that’s why you strangled her.”
    “That is insulting and ridiculous! You ask anyone, Helen had to come into my office to swat flies! I couldn
    ’t kill anyone.”
    Ruth said, “We know Helen called you Wednesday night—again, Gordon, her phone records. She probably told you all about it when you went over to her house to see her. Was she remorseful, tearful, Gordon? Truly upset about the death and pain she’d caused? Did she intend to tell everyone and ruin your life? Did you kill her in a rage, for revenge, or was it more cold-blooded than that? I go for cold-blooded, myself, because you strangled her in her sleep, when she couldn’t see you, when she was at her most vulnerable. Were you trying to protect your reputation and your cushy little wood-paneled job?”
    Gordon slammed his fist down on the keyboard. “I don’t want to talk to either of you any more about this! You accused me of murdering Erin; you’ve had me watched continuously; you’ve searched my house, my office, my e-mail, for God’s sake. And you have found nothing! And through all this I have cooperated with you. And here, after all that, you have the gall to come to my house and accuse me of murdering Helen. You have no proof of anything!”
    So much for a distraught confession, Dix thought.
    But Gordon wasn’t through. “You are right about one thing, Dix. If what you say about Helen is true, then there is nothing left for me. Everything will come out now, no hope for it. I will have nothing—not Erin, not my reputation, my career, my good name. It’s only a matter of time before the board of directors of Stanislaus very civilly demands my resignation. Can you imagine how Chappy will delight in that? Of course you can. You have ruined my