The Girls Across the Bay

by Emerald O'Brien

  “He seemed a bit protective of me,” Madigan said. “He admitted Eli forced him to take drugs and asked if he’d done that to us. He was relieved when I told him no. It’s not that he can’t tell when people are lying. It’s that he looks past it if he cares about them.”

  Grace nodded.

  Like if he knew Lily was still cheating on him with Mickey, but didn’t want to admit it to himself.

  “And his strength?” Madigan asked.

  “He’s a pretty good liar himself,” Grace said. “But his strength is his weakness. Protecting those he cares about and having a blind spot because of it.”

  “Maybe you can use that to your advantage? Maybe talking to Joe and learning about another perspective someone has of John might help.”

  “Thanks,” Grace said, raising her glass. “You make a pretty good detective.”

  They clinked their glasses together and drank.

  Madigan’s cell phone vibrated in the living room. She left the table, and Grace finished off her bowl of chili as Madigan came back into the kitchen.

  “What’s up?” Grace asked.

  “It’s Will,” she said, typing something into her phone.

  “Wow, finally answering you back.”

  “He wants to talk tomorrow. I told him to meet me here in the morning. I’m here anyway for the security installation.”

  “You going to be alright talking to him?”

  “I think so,” Madigan sighed.

  “Miss him?”

  “Only when I’m by myself, in quiet moments. I’ve been busy, but there’ve been a few moments where my heart aches. Seriously, my chest aches, and there’s an emptiness. It’s hard to describe.”

  “Sounds like heartbreak. Do you think there’s a chance you’d get back together?”

  Madigan shrugged, and Grace stood from the table with her wine glass. “I’m headed to bed to read, alright?”

  “Sure,” Madigan said.

  “Thanks for dinner. And remember your promise. I’ll get on Valerie’s case as soon as possible. You’re right. Who knows? I might find something that helps.”

  Madigan’s eyes smiled back at her before she turned the corner down the hallway.

  She would be a good detective. If she could be.

  Madigan’s short criminal record from childhood and her less than average grades held her back in a lot of ways, but she’d made the first few breaks in the case before Grace could.

  My old Sarge and Mac think I’m tough to work with, but they’d have another thing coming working with Madigan.

  Chapter Thirty Two

  As Will parked in the driveway, the security team had almost finished their installations. She took Buster out front, and he ran to Will. He bent over and scratched him behind the ears as Madigan closed the distance between them.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “What’s going on here?”

  “Oh, just updating the security system.”

  “Should I be worried?” he asked.

  He cares about me more than most people have in my whole life, and I’m just going to let this go?

  Am I crazy?

  “No.” She smiled. “Not to worry. All’s well here. How about with you?”

  He scratched the back of his neck as one of the installation techs walked by, waiting until he reached their van before speaking.

  “It’s been lonely,” he said, standing up, and Buster returned to her side. “Truthfully, it’s taken a lot of time to let things sink in. I still don’t entirely understand anything except for the fact that you don’t want to be with me.”

  I don’t either.

  “Is it someone else?” he asked. “Just be honest. I can take it. I’d rather—”

  “No,” she said, but Jack came to mind.

  There was an awkward chemistry between them—a mix of his protective nature and his past rejection of her. She couldn’t ignore the butterflies in her stomach when she saw him after all the years they had known each other—something that had already faded between her and Will.

  So maybe there is someone else.

  Someone who cares, but not the same way, so it doesn’t matter.

  “I didn’t think so,” he said. “I know you’re loyal, and I never wanted to question it, but you weren’t around much, and you know, my mind wanders to all possibilities.”

  “It’s already hurt me, what’s happened between us,” she said. “There’s no way I could do that to you.”

  “That makes it easier to take, I guess, but I’ll regret it if I don’t admit that at this point, there’s nothing you could say or do that would make me love you any less.”

  She bit her lip and stared at the ground. “I wish things were different,” she muttered.

  “Tell me why.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not something I can explain in a practical way. I can’t quantify it in any way that would make you feel better.”

  He nodded. “I like my facts and data.”

  “I know,” she said. “I’m sorry. You’re an amazing man. You live an amazing life. I just don’t belong in it, and I’m not putting myself down. It’s just not who I am.”

  He knows it, too.

  “I love you,” Madigan said. “It’s easier to say now than it was before because this is the way I love you. As a person. As someone who means so much to me.”

  “You’re not making this easier,” he said.

  “I still hope one day we can be in each other’s lives,” she said. “But if not, I just know I’ll miss you. I already do.”

  He bent down to hug her, and Buster jumped up on them. They stumbled away from each other smiling.

  “Stay out of trouble,” he said, walking backwards toward his car. “And hey, don’t lose my number.”

  “Same,” she said before he turned around and got into his car.

  He was willing to spend his life with me, even if I’d cheated.

  She shook her head and walked back toward the house as he drove away.

  I couldn’t, I don’t think.

  Turn a blind eye for the one you love.

  She thought about her conversation with Grace the night before. John’s weakness and strength in one. She pulled her cell from her pocket and hit Grace’s name before typing.

  If Lily was with someone else, John might have known. That could be John’s motive. Maybe he tried to cover it up to protect her reputation after he killed her?

  She hit send.

  Joe Harris had heard the rumors of Valerie seeing another man, and the investigation into Valerie’s disappearance might have been cut short because of them. Despite that, he still loved her. Never thought she’d leave.

  But if Valerie felt the same butterflies for John, or anyone else, the way I do for Jack, she might leave a man as good as people said Joe was.

  Or maybe she stayed?

  Maybe she trusted the wrong man—but which one?

  Grace read the text from Madigan as she blotted the corners of her mouth with her napkin.

  “What’s up?” Mac asked, stealing a French fry from her plate.

  “Dry erase board is yours; fries are mine,” Grace said, pulling her plate closer and shoving her cell in her pocket. “I think we should talk to John again.”

  “Don’t you think we’ve exhausted all our leads?” Mac asked, wiping his fingers with the napkin.

  “I want to try one more thing. I think we should tell him about Mickey’s DNA.”

  Mac frowned. “I don’t know.”

  “I think we need to convey that Mickey and Lily had a relationship, regardless of what the truth is, and we’ll see if he knew.”

  Something Madigan would do.

  Mac shrugged as Terry approached them with the coffee pot.

  “More?” Terry asked.

  Mac looked at her, and she shook her head.

  “We can’t take both suspects to the DA,” she said. “We need something that points to one over the other.”

  “Just the che
que please, Terry” Mac said. “Looks like we’re getting back at ‘er.”

  On the way over, she checked another text from Madigan, letting her know the security installation was complete.

  “My house is secure,” she said.

  “Good, you can worry less about your sister, then.”

  She stared at him and knew he felt her eyes on him.

  “You don’t know Madigan. Plus, can you tell me you’ll worry less about your daughter just because she’s not visiting until this is over?”

  He clenched his jaw and pursed his lips.

  “I hit a nerve,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not that. My ex might get full custody.”

  “What, why?”

  “I’m gone a lot. This threat doesn’t help right now, either. They say I’d have visitation every other weekend, but my lawyer says we should keep fighting. I’m going to, but—”

  “But?”

  “Maybe she’d be safer if she was with her mom full time,” he said. “Shuttling her back and forth from house to house isn’t what I wanted for her, and this job…”

  “Mac, take it from the girl who had a house but no home as a child,” she said, “all that matters to a kid is that they have people who love them. Who take good care of them. Who make them feel wanted.”

  He nodded as they pulled into the lot.

  “They did a number on you guys, didn’t they? Your foster parents. You turned out alright—”

  “Well, thanks,” she said, nudging his shoulder.

  “Your sister too, I’m guessing. But look at John.”

  “If Lily were still alive, it seems like you’d be saying the same thing about him as you are us. He cleaned himself up. Had support. Someone he loved.”

  “This is going to crush him if he doesn’t already know,” Mac said. “But if he does, he’ll know the truth is out if he was trying to cover it up.”

  She nodded. “Let me take the lead.”

  He raised his brow and grinned. “I can do that.”

  They knocked on John’s door, and he answered looking worse than ever. “Now’s not a good time,” he mumbled.

  “We have some information you might want to hear,” Grace said.

  He lifted his chin. “Oh.”

  “Can we come in?” she asked.

  He stepped aside and stood by the TV stand as they closed the door and walked in.

  He’s on edge.

  “What did you find?” he asked, his voice raised at the end.

  “Want to sit down?” Grace asked.

  He shook his head. “Can you just tell me?”

  “Fine,” Grace said.

  Don’t give him time to prepare. Make him answer.

  “Did you know about Lily and Mickey?”

  He frowned, and his shoulders drooped. “What do you mean?” he asked. “I’ve told you everything I know.”

  “They were seeing each other,” Grace said.

  “I wouldn’t call it that,” John said, his brows still furrowed. “Not after she told me he came on to her but the feelings weren’t returned. That he intimidated her. Threatened her. Abused her.”

  “Did you know they were still seeing each other?” Grace asked.

  “Not after the no contact order.”

  Grace pressed her lips together.

  “What?” he asked.

  “They were still seeing each other behind your back,” Grace said. “Or at least that’s what they thought. But you knew, didn’t you?”

  He shook his head, the same frown on his face, but his hands clenched into fists as she spoke again.

  “She broke her promise,” Grace said.

  A white lie, maybe. Like Madigan suggested.

  Maybe not.

  “You promised her you were leaving your old life behind, and she promised you the same after she had been granted that no contact order,” Grace said. “But when you found out about her and Mickey, you kicked her out. You knew when she worked at Wild Card she received all kinds of male attention. You were jealous. You just didn’t know it was Mickey, and when you did, you saw red.”

  “I—I didn’t know she was being forced,” he said.

  “Mickey’s semen was found inside Lily the night she was killed.”

  He froze. “No,” he said. “She wouldn’t.”

  “Wouldn’t she, John?” Grace asked. “She and Mickey couldn’t leave each other alone. She called him over after you left. We have the records.”

  She called someone, but who?

  Another white lie.

  “W-why haven’t you arrested him?” John asked.

  “Because you knew she was seeing him behind your back,” Grace said, raising her voice. “And when you arrived home, you knew he’d been there. Somehow you knew, and you fought with her. You fought and you killed her.”

  “No,” he shouted, shaking his head. “No.”

  He can’t believe it.

  He stumbled to the bed, taking a seat on the edge of it and gripping the blanket.

  “You’d been fighting, John,” Mac said. “She was mad at you and sought comfort in his arms on your bed. She wanted you away from Mickey so you wouldn’t find out about them.”

  John shook his head, frantically looking around the floor.

  “Admit it, John,” Grace said. “You knew they were together.”

  “No,” John said. “She was upset with me, but she wouldn’t…”

  He didn’t know.

  He stood from the bed and walked to the bedside table.

  “John?” Grace said. “What are you doing?”

  He opened the drawer, and they drew their guns.

  “John,” she called, “stop now.”

  He pulled out a small black box and turned around, his eyes open wide in fright at the guns pointing at him.

  “Whoa,” he said, pointing to the box. “This is her ring. Her engagement ring.”

  They lowered their guns as tears dripped from his chin to the floor.

  “I knew she was mad, but she took her ring off,” he cried, shaking the box. “This was on her nightstand.”

  Grace frowned and shook her head.

  She was wearing her engagement ring.

  “Maybe she didn’t think I’d follow through,” he cried. “Maybe she was ready to leave me, I don’t know, but how could she…”

  His voice faltered, and he dropped down to the bed again, crying and shaking. A sick feeling washed over Grace.

  He didn’t know. I took it too far.

  “You’re lying,” he said through his cries. “She didn’t sleep with him. Oh, God, no. You’re lying.”

  “She was wearing her ring,” she said, her own voice shaking. “She had her engagement ring on when I saw her in the living room.”

  John looked up at her and gasped for breath.

  “But it’s—” He looked down at the box and opened it. “It’s right here.”

  He stared at the ring and frowned, taking it out of the box and holding it closer to his face.

  “This isn’t her ring,” he said.

  Grace approached him with caution and took it from his fingers. Mac stood over her shoulder as she studied it.

  Always mine. Always yours.

  She turned to Mac. “Is this from him?”

  “Did you get your ring at the same place where the box came from?” Mac asked.

  “In the city.” John nodded. “That’s why I thought—”

  “We need to contact the jeweller,” Mac said, taking the box from John’s hand. “Now.”

  He walked to the door and Grace followed.

  “If Mickey purchased it, it could be under his name and the inscription will tie it to him.” Grace placed the ring back in the box. “Prove he saw her that day if that’s when he bought it. Give him a motive if she refused him. Get someone on it.”

  Mac nodded and left the room.

  “She was still wearing my ring,” John muttered to himself. “She chose me.”

  Tha
t’s Mickey’s motive to kill.

  If they had sex in the bed, the DNA will be gone—burned—but if he proposed, and she refused to put it on, they could have fought. He could have seen the flowers from John and went into a blind rage, smashing them and knocking Lily over. Killing her by accident or on purpose.

  “He killed her because she chose me,” John muttered, squeezing his fists tightly, opening them, and balling them again.

  He wants to hurt Mickey.

  Kill him.

  “John?” Grace said, and he shook out of his daze, staring up at her. “You need to stay here, alright? Don’t leave. No one comes or goes, alright?”

  His rubbed his fingers over his blotchy red face.

  “I need you to tell me you understand. You’ll be stopped by any means necessary if you try to leave.”

  “Yeah, I get it,” he said on exhale.

  “Good,” Grace said, opening the door. “This might all be over soon, John.”

  Maybe thanks to a few little white lies.

  She closed the door behind her and waved Malone over.

  “I want another officer here, alright?” she said, and he nodded. “No one comes, and he doesn’t go anywhere.”

  Malone nodded as Mac approached with his cell clutched in his hand.

  “He bought the ring the day Lily died,” Mac said.

  “In his own name?” Grace asked.

  “That’s right. We’ve got our evidence. Motive. John really didn’t know. We’ve got our guy.”

  “If it was an accident, I guess I can let it slide,” Grace said, “but if Mickey planned on hurting her—killing her—if she refused his proposal, why would he buy the ring in his name?”

  “Crime of passion,” Mac said. “He didn’t know it would be evidence pointing to him. He wanted to marry her, not kill her.”

  “Looks like that changed quick,” Grace said. “Let’s get to the DA now and present our case.”

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Madigan’s cell phone vibrated against the kitchen table as she searched the classified section of the paper for jobs.

  Maybe I could ask Roy for a job bartending again for a while?

  Is that embarrassing? Going back to the job I left for a career?