tried to rape another woman

I have Travis Boyette with me, and he's ready to tell his story." "Tell us about Travis," Robbie said. There was no movement, and little breathing, around the table. "He's forty-four years old, born in Joplin, Missouri, a career criminal, registered sex offender in at least four states." Keith glanced at Boyette, who was looking through the passenger window, as if he were somewhere else. "His last stop was a prison in Lansing, Kansas, and he's now on parole. He was living in Slone at the time of Nicole Yarber's disappearance, staying at the Rebel Motor Inn. I'm sure you know where it is. He was arrested for drunk driving in Slone in January 1999. There is a copy of his arrest." Carlos and Bonnie were hammering keys on their laptops, racing through the Internet, digging for anything on Keith Schroeder, Travis Boyette, the arrest in Slone. Keith continued: "In fact, he was in jail in Slone while Donte Drumm was under arrest. Boyette posted bond, got out, then skipped town. He drifted to Kansas, tried to rape another woman, got caught, and is just finishing his sentence." Tense looks were exchanged around the table. Everyone took a breath. "Why is he talking now?" Robbie asked, leaning down closer to the speakerphone. "He's dying," Keith said bluntly, no need to soft-pedal things at this point. "He has a brain tumor, a glioblastoma, grade four, inoperable. He says that the doctors have told him he has less than a year to live. He says he wants to do the right thing. While he was in prison, he lost track of the Drumm case, said he figured the authorities in Texas would one day figure out that they had the wrong man." "This guy's in the car with you?" "Yes." "Can he hear this conversation?" Keith was driving with his left hand and holding his cell phone with his right. "No," he said. "When did you meet this guy, Keith?" "Monday." "Do you believe him? If he is in fact a serial rapist and career criminal, then he'd rather lie than tell the truth. How do you know he has a brain tumor?" "I checked that out. It's true." Keith glanced at Boyette, who was still staring at nothing through the passenger window. "I think it's all true." "What does he want?" "So far, nothing." "Where are you right now?" "Interstate 35, not far from the Texas line. How does this work, Robbie? Is there a chance of stopping the execution?" "There's a chance," Robbie said as he looked into the eyes of Samantha Thomas. She shrugged, nodded, a weak "Maybe."