I QUESTION MY SANITY as I sit outside the Myer house. It’s 3:30 am, and the place is dark.
“So what’s your plan now, Tom?” I say to myself. “Brilliant idea, coming here in the middle of the night. What did you think you would do?”
I have no idea. When I left the Rectory I had a vague idea of confronting Win Myer with my suspicions, to try to get him to admit to the murder of Rachel Watson. The more I drove, however, the more I realized what a crazy idea that was on several levels.
First, I have no evidence. Second, if Win Myer is a murderer, then he’s shown he has no problem killing. Third, no one knows where I am. My text to Helen was short and to the point, but “I know who did it ... call me” would give her no idea where to look if I go missing.
In all, not one of my more brilliant i
