How did he know?
Grace turned to Mac. “He’s my old supervisor. When I was undercover.”
Mac nodded to him. “This has become a murder investigation.”
“Not anymore,” Bruno said, staring straight at her. “Take it up with Banning. I don’t want to see you here again.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that,” Mac said, his voice deeper than usual.
“You better. Sheppard here doesn’t like to follow orders, but I’m sure you’ve heard that by now, and some.” Bruno chuckled and pushed himself off the car, shaking his head. “Pretty thing, but she’s a liability. Good luck with her.”
As she turned to Mac with hot cheeks, he already had his phone pressed to his ear, and Bruno smacked the trunk of the car with an open palm before disappearing down the street.
“Banning, yeah,” Mac said and paused. “You did? Yeah, I hear you. Fine.” He pressed end and chucked the phone into the center console between them.
“So?” Grace asked.
“Mickey’s involved in worse things than a murder investigation, apparently,” he said, rubbing the stubble across his chin. “He’s being investigated by more than just the police here.”
How is it possible Bruno’s still making it difficult for me to do my job, without having any authority over me?
“I would have known,” Grace said, shaking her head. “Banning—”
“Banning didn’t know until they called him just now while that asshat was out here trying to scare us off,” Mac said, turning the key in the ignition and gripping the wheel with white knuckles. “You made quite the impression on him.”
He nodded to the van that pulled out of its spot into the street with Bruno in the passenger’s seat, giving them a dirty look again.
“You read the file when I went undercover,” Grace said, turning to him. “I guess everyone has read it.” Her cheeks burned, and she released her clutched fists.
“Yeah, but like you said,” Mac turned to her, “the file doesn’t always tell you the most important things.”
He’s taking my side.
Grace exhaled, letting herself lean back against her seat. “No, it doesn’t.”
“If we can’t look into Mickey anymore,” Mac said, “we’ll go back and wait for the DNA. If his is in there, Banning said he’d get us a warrant.”
“Even after that?” Grace gestured to the street.
Mac drove without a word.
Maybe John’s right.
Maybe Mickey Clarke is untouchable.
Chapter Twenty Eight
Evette opened the door with a cigarette between her smiling lips. She stared up at Madigan and took the cigarette out, puffing white clouds into the air above her head, her smile disappearing.
“You’re back.”
“I am.” Madigan nodded and tried not to inhale too much, choking back a cough. “Can I come in?”
“Oh, sure,” she said, walking back to the couch with her hand gliding along the wall. “I thought you were one of them. Did you see my security detail out there?”
“I did. I’m glad you’ll be safe.”
Evette grinned as she sat down and puffed at her cigarette as soon as she caught her breath.
Should I come right out and ask about Valerie?
Why not?
“Do you remember our next-door neighbours?” Madigan asked. “The couple?”
Evette side-eyed her. “I’m surprised you do. You were so small.”
“Did you see them much?” Madigan asked. “Keep in touch?”
“Well, no, why?”
“The newspaper’s doing a feature on cold cases,” Madigan said.
Same lie as I told Joe Harris. Keeping them straight is an ugly artform.
“Oh?”
“Apparently the young woman went missing.”
“Oh, yes,” Evette said. “I remember that. So sad. Creepy really.”
“Why?”
“You know the neighbourhood. I worried for you girls. Who knows which unsavory neighbour could have been a pedophile? Or a kidnapper? You know? Anytime something like that happens, it makes you think.”
Yet, for the next four years our of childhood, you rarely knew where we were.
“What do you think happened to her?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “It’s so odd you brought that up.”
Madigan shrugged. “It’s quite a coincidence.”
“Hmm,” Evette hummed and tapped out the ashes of her cigarette into the ashtray. “So tell me, how did you and John get along here the other day?”
She got over that pretty quick. Just like Lily’s death.
Her sister’s words came to mind: Evette only cares about Evette.
“Good.” Madigan nodded.
“He’s a real softie when it comes down to it,” Evette said. “Only the people who take time to get to know him see that.”
“Right.” Madigan tried to catch a glimpse of her ring, but she waved her hands in the air as she spoke. “He seems nice.”
She fidgeted with her rings, and Madigan couldn’t help but stare at the one she came for.
No distinct markings.
“Where did you get that ring?” she asked. “The silver one. The thick one.”
Evette held her hand up close to her face. “Oh, I’m not sure. Maybe as a gift from Eli.”
Thick and curved.
Same as in the picture of Valerie and Joe.
“I don’t remember where I got half of these,” she said.
Madigan noticed she still wore her wedding ring.
Does she still love Eli? After everything? After all this time?
None of my business.
“So John,” Evette said and puffed at her cigarette, “I told you, he’s a real sweetheart. The more time you spend…”
“What happened to make John leave? He told me he stayed away for a while until well after Eli was put away.”
Evette squinted at her. “I think some things are better left in the past.”
“If you’d like for John and I to get to know each other more, I think you should tell me what happened.” Madigan sat up straight. “Unless there’s something you’re hiding from me?”
“You’re suspicious of him? Still?”
Madigan gave her a blank stare.
I am, but I can’t let you think I am.
“He and Eli didn’t get along,” Evette said. “Never did. I think Eli thought he was taking his place. That’s why it was different with you girls. I was never jealous like Eli was of the attention we gave you kids.”
“Okay, but why did he leave for so long?”
“He and Eli got into a big fight a while before you girls came. John would stay at a friend’s place most nights out of the week since then. He came back when he knew it was only me home, and he’d try to get me to leave Eli.”
“So he was there that time I remember. The first year we were there?”
Evette shrugged. “I guess. It’s difficult to remember exactly when he left. He drifted, really. Drifted right out of our lives. He told me he couch-hopped, or surfed or whatever, and then for a little while, he was homeless. By the time Eli was sent away, I hadn’t heard from him in at least two years. Almost three. Then he came by the house again, looking like a man. A new man. I was shocked, but I was so happy to see him safe and well. He got me out of that dilapidated house and into this nice one.”
With his drug money.
How could she still afford this place? All her nice things?
He must have stopped giving you money when he left his dealer.
That’s why you didn’t care for Lily.
“So you never met Lily?” Madigan asked.
“Oh, let’s not talk about her.” Evette waved her off. “Tell me about you. What’s going on in your life?”
That’s the first time she’s asked since I came to see her.
“It’s going,” Madigan nodded.
Even that’s a lie.
She
puffed at her cigarette and spoke as the smoke drifted out. “You’re not happy,” she said before a coughing fit came on.
I somehow managed to keep busy long enough to get Will off my mind for a few hours, and she brings it up again.
Her cell phone rang, and Grace’s name flashed on the screen.
“What’s that music?” Evette asked, scrunching up her nose.
“One minute,” Madigan whispered and pressed the phone to her ear. “Sorry. I forgot.”
“I figured,” Grace said. “It’s alright. I’m just back at the station. Should be home for dinner. Where are you?”
She’ll give me grief if she knows I’m here.
“Dinner sounds good,” Madigan said. “Talk to you then, okay?”
“Alright…”
Madigan pressed end and sat up. “I’ve got to get going.”
“Alright, well, feel free to stop by any time you’re in the city. I love seeing you, you know that. Maybe you, John, and me could get together sometime soon?” Her face lit up as she waited to read Madigan’s face.
Madigan smiled. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Great,” Evette said.
“Don’t get up,” Madigan, striding toward the door. “Have a good day, and keep an eye out, okay? The police will watch you here, but when you’re out…”
“I love it when you worry about me,” Evette said. “Isn’t that awful? But it’s true. You be careful too.”
Madigan nodded with a smile and closed the door behind her.
She knows things are bad with me, and I didn’t even have to tell her.
She always read me so well.
As she went down the steps to the front door, she wondered if John would have the same story as Evette about why he left.
The rings look the same, but maybe I’ll pay you a visit, John.
Joe Harris thinks you’re the devil, but you’re the only chance I have of finding out more about Valerie at this point. No way to tell if the rings are one in the same.
She took out her phone as she reached her bike, scrolling past John’s name, and hit Will’s.
I have to try.
Leaving Will without closure weighed heavily on her heart, and each time she thought of him hurting alone, she felt sympathy pains.
But I don’t feel guilty about doing my own thing anymore.
No more excuses for living my life the way I want to.
Without an answer, she hung up and searched through her call log, hitting John’s number.
“Madigan?” he asked.
“Hey, John, I was wondering if we could meet up?”
“I can’t really leave the lodge. Could you come here? Whitestone Lodge.”
Even better. Police protection.
“Great,” she said. “Be there in an hour.”
Chapter Twenty Nine
Grace ended her call with Madigan and clasped her cell in her hand as she walked into the station.
She’s hiding something.
She’s doing something she knows I wouldn’t like.
Mac greeted her with a cup of coffee. He led her to their room with a file folder tucked under his arm.
“The results? Did you look?” Grace asked.
He shook his head and opened the door for her.
“Listen,” he said, walking to the dry erase board with all of their findings and information. “How your old Sarge spoke to you back there was uncalled for. He’s a prick.”
She pressed her lips together and sat at the table.
“I spoke to you the same way when I know better. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” She shrugged.
I’ve never been apologized to at work.
It feels weird.
“I’ve never had a partner, alright, so when you came, I looked you up. Did my research. I didn’t like what I read and heard,” he said. “Trusting someone with your life, I mean, you’ve done it before, right? You want to have some faith in the person.”
She nodded, remembering her first and only other partner as an officer with her own beat in Amherst.
“Listen, the file looks bad.” Grace took a sip of coffee. “It was a bad situation, and I was at fault for a lot of it. I own it, but it was never my intention. I’m trying to move on from that, though, and right now, this is the most important thing I can spend my time worrying about.”
He nodded and grabbed a marker before opening the file with the DNA results.
“Okay, regarding the vase,” he said. “The only prints on it were Lily’s and Christina Martin’s. Her mom.”
He wrote their names on the board. “Okay, so it was a present from her mom,” he said, referring back to the file.
A peace offering.
“Lily’s blood was the only other thing found on the glass. No other bodily fluids.”
“Okay, not a surprise there,” she said.
“In regards to the rape kit that was used, there wasn’t evidence of force, but she had sexual intercourse that day. The sperm belongs to—”
He flipped the page and stared up at Grace.
“Michael Clarke.”
“Mickey,” she whispered under her breath. “He was with her that day.”
Mac wrote it on the board under Mickey’s photo.
“Still, it says it wasn’t rape,” he said, turning back to her. “Might not be enough to prove bad intent.”
“What do you mean? This is big. The last call Lily made pinged off the cell tower right by his club, probably asking him to come over. Trying to help John out of his mess, maybe, or maybe things between them weren’t as John knew, because, come on Mac, Mickey’s DNA inside her? He was there. He was with her. She let him in.”
“Doesn’t mean he was there, Grace,” Mac said. “Doesn’t even mean he saw her that night. Could have been in the morning, or afternoon, or anytime before John came home for dinner. We can’t place Mickey there that night after John left. He has an alibi.”
“But the call she made— ”
“Could have been to anyone in that area. His prints weren’t on the vase.”
“He wore gloves, then,” Grace said.
“Maybe,” Mac sighed. “Listen, I don’t like this any more than you, but until we have crucial evidence that without a doubt means Mickey murdered Lily, we can’t touch him. It’s just something we can add to the evidence that he had an intimate relationship with her. They had a relationship in the past at least. Maybe she never broke it off with him?”
“So what, we’re hoping he’ll confess...just come in and give himself up?” Grace sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Who do you think left the marks on Lily’s arm?”
“Could have been John, like her parents say.” Mac took a seat beside her at the head of the table. “Could have been Mickey, like John and the reports say. Could have been someone else entirely. We’re not getting anywhere playing a guessing game.”
“We’re considering other suspects?”
“I want to look into John more,” Mac said. “He’s ours for the questioning, thanks to your level head and, you know, the fact we can’t arrest him yet. He’s not going anywhere.”
“John.” Grace tapped her pen against the desk. “If he knew Mickey and Lily had been intimate that day or night…”
“Right, a motive,” Mac said. “He could be making up the bit about the drugs Mickey had him running. Evette’s the only one who corroborates his story. She could be working with him, or he lied to her. Could be trying to frame Mickey. No signs of rape that Lockwood could see, so we have to move forward believing it was consensual.”
Grace sighed and shook her head, remembering her time with Leah.
“Sad as it is, Mac, women have sex for more reasons than just because they want to,” she said. “Could have been a means to an end. A way to help John get out. An agreement or arrangement. A way to avoid being killed.”
“Okay, okay. But the photos in John’s house. They were left for us. If John left them there, he could have wanted us to see the p
hoto of him going into Wild Card. To set up his whole story.”
“But he was being watched while my house was broken into and my sister was attacked.”
“He could have had someone do it,” Mac said. “Mickey and John. One of ‘em is going down. Listen, I don’t like working on theories, so let’s use the evidence, even the circumstantial, and create a case against each of them. Maybe it’ll sort things out. Get it ready to present to the DA. ”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Grace said, standing and grabbing the marker from the table.
“Ah.”
“What?” Grace smirked. “I thought we were good now?”
“No one writes on my board but me,” he said and swiped the marker from her hand.
She rolled her eyes and sat back down as her cell vibrated in her pocket.
“News?” he asked.
She opened Madigan’s text.
Still alive. Where’s my cake?
Chapter Thirty
That should buy me an hour with John.
Madigan tucked her phone into her pocket and walked past several doors to room eight.
“Excuse me,” an officer said, climbing out of his car. “I’m sorry, but you can’t go in there. He’s not accepting visitors at this time.”
She stopped and turned around, facing the officer.
“He invited me over. My name’s Madigan Knox, and I’m actually under police protection as well. I’m Detective Inspector Grace Sheppard’s sister.”
“I understand that, ma’am,” he said, “but I’ll have to call this in and make sure—”
“She’s my sister,” John said from behind her.
She turned around. He stood in the open doorway, his clothes wrinkled and his hair a mess.
“Sir, you’ll need to step back inside now,” he said.
“It’ll just be a quick visit,” Madigan said. “I promise. In and out.”
“I’m not going in until she comes in too,” John said.
The officer sighed and glanced around the lot, before nodding. “Fine,” he called. “Get inside. I’m still calling this in though.”
“Fine by me,” Madigan said and followed John into his room.
The Girls Across the Bay Page 24