The Girls Across the Bay

by Emerald O'Brien

  “I know what you’re working on is important,” Madigan said. “Was it something about John?”

  Releasing her secret had bonded them even closer, and although she couldn’t give any details, she felt the need to tell her about John as it pertained to Evette.

  Better to find out from me.

  “The people John’s involved with?” Grace said, and Madigan nodded. “They threatened his life and Evette’s if he cooperated with us.”

  “What?” Madigan sat up straight.

  “Yeah, I know,” Grace said. “Listen, I’ll fill you in in the morning. I’ll tell you the version for your article first, and then I’ll tell you what nobody can know yet, alright? I just need some sleep.”

  She waited to see if Madigan would correct her about her job after talking about it in past tense with Mac.

  Madigan nodded. “Okay.”

  Maybe tomorrow, then.

  “You can come sleep in the bed with me like we used to,” Grace said, but Madigan shook her head. “Alright. Help yourself to whatever you need. If Mac calls, I’ll let you know.”

  “Thanks for listening,” she whispered.

  By the time Grace wrapped herself up under the covers in her bed, she had overcome the urge to look at the binder beneath her bed.

  I can’t do it anymore.

  Leah had a fighting spirit that reminded her of Madigan since they met. Leah always treated Grace like a younger sister, even though they were about the same age. She’d taken her under her wing and welcomed her to a life of abuse, drugs, and manipulation. A life Grace already knew too well, but she’d still learned so much from her.

  Not just how to survive, but how to live with passion.

  Madigan’s support helped more than she would know. She could almost picture Leah saying the same things with more attitude and a sharper edge.

  Wouldn’t Leah want you to live a full life? I do.

  “I can’t if I keep reliving it,” Grace whispered into the dark bedroom. “I can’t move forward if I look back, but I don’t want to let it happen again.”

  Grace took a deep breath and exhaled.

  If I can’t let it go, I have to let it make me stronger.

  Better.

  For Madigan.

  She leaned against her headboard, her gun on her bedside table in her peripheral vision.

  You don’t mess with family.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  “I’m having a security system installed tomorrow,” Grace said as she entered the kitchen. A tight bun set off her high cheek bones and dewy complexion.

  She looks lighter.

  Better.

  Madigan rubbed Buster’s head and poured another coffee.

  “Buster’s a security system,” Madigan said. “If I’d listened.”

  “Speaking of, will you and Buster be staying?”

  Madigan passed her the mug of coffee and walked to the sliding door, letting Buster out back.

  “Mads, it’s fine if you need to stay here. You know you’re always welcome.”

  “I know,” Madigan sighed. “I would get my own place but—I lost my job at the paper.”

  Grace pressed her lips together and joined her at the sliding door, watching Buster sniff around the yard.

  “I had a feeling,” Grace said. “For how long?”

  “Couple of days. I’ve thought about trying to get my job back more than once since, but my heart’s just not in it. I’ll get a job and be out of your hair soon, alright?”

  “You can stay as long as you want,” Grace said, opening the sliding door. “Come on.”

  She stepped outside into the early glow of the morning sun peeking just above the horizon. Madigan held the door handle, willing herself to step outside.

  That’s where he was. Lurking. Just waiting to get in.

  Grace sat down on her patio in her Muskoka chair overlooking the gorgeous view, the breeze blowing through her hair as she sipped her coffee.

  She looks peaceful.

  She won’t say anything, but she knows.

  She knows this is hard for me.

  “Will you be home tomorrow for the security team, or should I make sure I can be home in the morning?” Grace asked without turning to look at her.

  “I can be here,” Madigan said, taking a step out and feeling the breeze against her face.

  That feels nice. I can do this.

  She closed the door behind her and sat in the chair next to Grace. Buster trotted to her side as she scanned the back garden, squinting toward the treeline to her right.

  Why can I feel safe in the kitchen where it happened, but not out here?

  “Great,” Grace said. “A unit will be outside the house until then, so don’t mind them. I have to go in a little bit. You’ll be okay.”

  Madigan nodded. “I’ve got this guy.” She rubbed Buster’s rump, and he wagged his tail.

  “Will you be staying here all day? Or any plans?”

  “Cut to the chase,” Madigan said. “You don’t want me going out, do you?”

  Grace smiled before hiding it with her mug.

  “Well, I’ve got to look for a new job. And there are a few other things on my to-do list.”

  “Such as?”

  Do I tell her about Valerie? She’d probably be as curious as I am.

  “Did you know our next door neighbour on Warbler Way went missing the first year we lived there?”

  Grace frowned. “No, I didn’t.”

  “I know you’re going to tell me to give it up, but I looked into missing girls around the time I had my nightmare, or whatever it was, and she was a young woman next door with a fiancé and parents living in Tall Pines. You know the mansion before the road to the lighthouse? That’s where they’ve lived ever since.”

  “And you think she could be the dead body you saw?” Grace asked.

  And you think it’s ridiculous.

  “I saw a picture of Valerie wearing a ring that looks like the one Evette wears.”

  “Looks the same or is the same ring?” Grace asked. “And which one? She wears so many.”

  “A big silver one. I’m going to check it out. And Eli was the last one to see Valerie besides her parents the day she went missing.”

  “They lived next door?” she asked. “I don’t remember them.”

  “He must have moved out soon after. It was a single mom with a teen daughter there, right?”

  “It was,” Grace said. “I know you’re going through a lot. Are you sure you shouldn’t take a break and just relax a bit?”

  Madigan sipped her coffee, letting it warm her tongue and throat as she swallowed. “I think it’s worth looking into.”

  “If you think so.”

  “Yeah?” Madigan turned to her, smiling.

  “Maybe it’ll help you finally put the whole thing to rest,” Grace said. “I know you’re under a lot of stress right now, and maybe it’s a good thing to keep busy—until you get something—you know?”

  She thinks this is just busy work.

  “You think what I told you is a coincidence?”

  “It could be. You’re not sure about the ring, right?” Grace stood. “I’m going to work now, but I want you to text me every hour on the hour until I see you again.”

  “You’re kidding,” Madigan said, squinting up at her.

  Grace shook her head.

  “Is there something you’re not telling me about last night?”

  “I can’t say much about the investigation, but I’ve told you what I think. Someone is disgruntled and thinks we’re getting close to something. Maybe that’s why the fire was set.”

  “You don’t think it was John, do you?”

  Grace stared down at her. “We have a unit watching out for Evette now too. We don’t know who’s doing it, but we’re trying to protect people with a connection to this case as best we can. I’m sorry for what happened last night—”

  “Stop saying that like it’s your fault,” Madigan said.


  “I’m just saying, we need to stay alert, okay? So you’ll text me?”

  You won’t be able to focus on the case otherwise.

  “I will.”

  “Good.” Grace walked to the sliding door. “I’ll see you for dinner, okay? If plans change, I’ll let you know.”

  After she left, Madigan pulled herself together and went on her laptop, searching Joe Harris and Amherst.

  You moved, Joe. Where to?

  Just one recent link matched. A profile on LinkedIn.

  Joe Harris. Telecommunication Sales Manager of EdgeCorp.

  “Still in the city,” she muttered. “But where?”

  She typed the phone number on his profile into her cell and hit send.

  “Hello,” an older man’s voice said.

  How old is he?

  “Hi, Joe,” she said with a smile. “This call may seem like it’s coming out of the blue, but I’m with the Tall Pines Gazette and we’re doing some follow-up stories from decades ago. Things the town might still be wondering about. I came upon the articles regarding your missing fiancée. I was hoping to get an update from you?”

  Joe laughed on the other line. “Oh, now you wanna to do a feature? That’s funny.”

  Two stories in the paper. Only one front page. I’d be upset too.

  “Sir, with all due respect, I believe this story has been on the minds of the residents of Tall Pines to this day.”

  An exaggeration.

  “You weren’t around back then, were ya?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Whaddaya wanna know?”

  “Well, to begin with, were there any developments on her case that weren’t covered by the media? Anything that happened right after or since?”

  “Lot’s happened, but nothing that’s helped,” he said, slurring. “Her parents’ lives were ruined. My life was ruined.”

  “May I ask, what do you think happened to Valerie?”

  “I think her parents and friends were right, and I just didn’t want to lisssten,” he said. “I think she was seeing someone else.”

  “So you think she left?”

  “I didn’t say that. Valerie would’ve never just left. Never. She loved me. I loved her.”

  “So what do you think happened?”

  “I’ll tell you what happened,” he said, raising his voice. “Our next door neighbour John killed her. That’s off the record—fer now.”

  Madigan’s eyes opened wide, and the hairs on her neck raised. Goosebumps spread over her arms, and the tingling lingered as he went on. “Valerie was younger than me. It was a pretty big difference to other people, but not to us. It made more sense to other people why she went behind my back to see John. He’s younger. What they call a bad boy.”

  Is he drunk?

  “What makes you think it was your neighbour?” Madigan asked. “I thought no one knew who she supposedly ran off with?”

  “They didn’t. I didn’t want to believe it. I still don’t. I never told anyone about my suspicions because he dis’peared too. That is until recently. You’re a reporter, s’you know him as John Talbot. Ring a bell?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’s currently under investigation for the murder of his fiancée. Seeing a pattern?”

  “If you want this off the record, does that mean you haven’t told the police your suspicions?”

  “They don’t listen. They didn’t do a damn thing more than what they said was their duty back then, and they won’t now. But he did it. He killed Valerie, and now he’s killed again.”

  “Mr. Harris,” she said. “I won’t print this, but I—I wonder why you’re telling me?”

  “Because in this article you’re writing, I want to make damn sure you’re getting it right. Valerie didn’t run off with some guy. It’s what everyone thinks since her friend saw her and some guy out. In public. Holding hands. She wasn’t some whore. I want what you write to reflect the truth. If you’re setting things straight, then her name should be cleared. Valerie was a beautiful person, and she loved me. She’s my soulmate, and she didn’t leave of her own free will. You quote me on that.”

  “I will.”

  “You covering the case of John Talbot personally?” he asked.

  “I have,” she said.

  “Have you ever spoken to him?” he asked. “In person?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Then you’ve looked the devil in the eyes,” he said.

  I looked a broken man in the eyes. That’s for sure.

  Madigan shivered and rubbed her lips with her fingers.

  “He was the lowest of the low. Whole family was. Arrested in the years that followed. Had their other foster kids taken away from ‘em, rightfully so.”

  “The family,” Madigan said. “They must have known where John went.”

  “If they did, they wouldn’t say. Bunch’a low lifes.”

  “Don’t you want it to be known? If he did it?”

  “I know,” he said, “and that’s enough. We’re finished here.”

  “The number I’ve called you with is my cell,” she said. “The story won’t be printed until the end of the month. If you think of anything else, please don’t hesitate to call.”

  He hung up before she ended her sentence.

  If Valerie was seeing John, how did Evette end up with her ring?

  If it was her ring.

  Joe doesn’t have any proof.

  He must have witnessed something to be so sure.

  Madigan texted Grace, letting her know she was alive, before tucking her phone into her bag at the front door. As she slipped on her boots, the officer in the unit out front got out of the car and looked around the neighbourhood, stretching his legs.

  “Buster, you’ll be safe until I’m back,” she said, kissing him on the forehead. “Good boy.”

  She grabbed her helmet and waved to the officer before getting on her bike.

  Evette could be wearing Valerie’s ring.

  She was her neighbour when Valerie went missing.

  She rolled out of the driveway and down the street, headed for Amherst to get some answers.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Grace checked her phone and opened the latest text from Madigan.

  Still alive. Send cake.

  As they passed the lighthouse on the way to the highway, Grace thought about the family of the missing woman. How Madigan must have spoken to them and what they might have said.

  A woman disappearing next door might be more than a coincidence, but without a real connection to this case, I can’t go there. Not right now.

  “I spoke to Evette on the phone this morning,” Mac said.

  “You did? Why?”

  “She asked about the unit in front of her triplex,” he said, placing both hands on the steering wheel. “Quite the woman.”

  “You have no idea,” Grace huffed. “Was she upset, or?”

  “She thinks she’s being watched. Which makes me wonder if she’s got something to hide or feel guilty about.”

  “Oh, plenty. Whether it’s tied to this case or not, I don’t know. Last time I talked to her, it seemed liked she’d protect John no matter what, so unless we catch her in a lie…”

  “Like mother, like son.” Mac twisted the radio volume down. “How long were you with her?”

  Grace rolled her eyes. “Don’t pretend you haven’t already looked it up.”

  “Alright.” He nodded. “That’s fair.”

  “It was four long years,” Grace sighed.

  “Well, I did look into it, and I’m sorry for whatever went on there.”

  Grace stared out her window, telling herself the same thing she always did when she reflected back on that time in her life.

  I wouldn’t change a thing because I gained a sister for life.

  It was true. She’d go through the beatings and sneaking around dangerous neighbourhoods, meeting dangerous people all over again to have found Madigan.

  “Your sister okay
?” Mac asked.

  She nodded as they drove onto the bridge. “She’s shaken up, but who wouldn’t be? I’m having a security system installed tomorrow so we can get that unit you put out front of my house back on the street again. So thanks for that.”

  “Oh, yep. Okay, good,” Mac said, fumbling over his words. “I just—you know what we’re doing here, right?”

  “Putting pressure on Mickey?” she asked. “Yeah.”

  If he left the pictures in John’s house before burning it down or attacked Madigan in her home, police presence—specifically theirs—at Wild Card, might push him even further.

  “If he gets a sense we’re on to him about something, he could go after John too,” Mac said.

  “We have everyone protected. I won’t be intimidated.”

  Mac nodded. “You’re a tough one. I guess you’ve had to be since, well, your childhood.”

  “My foster father went away the day we were taken on child endangerment and abuse charges, drug dealing and possession charges, and Evette came away clean. He bullied us for so long, it’s all I knew. It’ll never happen again.”

  “In the file, it says he beat Evette, too.”

  Grace nodded.

  He did beat her, but the file only stated what Madigan had reported that day when she’d been caught selling drugs at the high school park. All the things Eli had done to them. To Evette.

  “She’s not innocent,” Grace muttered. “The file doesn’t tell you some of the most important things.”

  They pulled up to an empty spot across the street and down from the club.

  “Hey,” Grace said. “I want to thank you for last night.”

  “Oh.” Mac waved her off.

  Don’t push your luck, Grace.

  She shrugged. “Just glad you were there.”

  A knock came from beside her, and she turned to see Bruno Colette, her old supervising sergeant. She rolled down the window.

  “Who’s this?” Mac asked.

  “Sarge,” Grace said. “What are you—”

  “Leave,” Bruno said. “Now. Go back to policing your small town where we put you, and stay out of the big city.”

  “Hey, who are—” Mac started.

  “She’ll tell you,” he said, shooting her a dirty look. “This is our turf. Just get out of here and leave Mickey Clarke out of your investigation.”