“Are you sure there’s nothing else you want to tell me?” asks Douglas as the interview comes to a close.
Owen tries to get comfortable in the plastic seat. There’s no air in this room and he’s sure it’s a tactic to make the suspect want to talk, just so they can get it over with and get out of here. “I’ve told you everything that happened that night.” He looks the detective in the eye, but the guy stares back so intently that Owen is the first one to break contact.
“I think my client has already been incredibly open with you, Detective,” says Richie Hope.
Owen looks at his lawyer. He underestimated him when the guy walked into his cell. He thought he was too old to be effective and he couldn’t understand who’d hired him, as he knows Richie doesn’t work for his dad. The McCoy lawyer is ruthless, and if he’s honest, Owen would have preferred she showed up to battle the charges against him. He’s guessing that the fact she’s not here signals that his life with Angie and Wyatt really is over. He struggles to know whether that’s a good thing or not. He could be completely alone in the world.
Richie’s busy typing away on his laptop. They didn’t get an opportunity for any alone time together before the interview, so the only thing the lawyer managed to advise him was to tell the truth. That was it. Owen took that advice against his better judgment.
Detective Douglas gathers his papers. “I appreciate your cooperation. If you think of anything else, ask for me. Can I get you a sandwich or a coffee?”
Owen relaxes slightly. This means the interview really is over at last. He feels like he’s been in a boxing ring, but it was draining mentally as well as physically. He nods. “Both. I’m starving.” He wants to eat and then sleep for ten hours. It’s been a long day. The clock above the door tells him it’s just turned seven.
Douglas leaves him and Richie together for a minute.
Immediately Owen asks, “Who hired you?”
Richie smiles at him. “Your mother and her friend Nate.”
Owen’s shocked. “My mother? You mean Madison Harper?”
“Yes. She’s worried about you being treated unfairly because of her conviction. She did the right thing hiring me because I believe this detective may have it in for her. In which case he won’t hesitate to take his feelings out on you.”
Owen still doesn’t know what’s more shocking: that his mother really is back in town and looking out for him or that he may be convicted of murder because this cop has a beef with her. “Can I see her?”
Richie looks regretful. “Probably not anytime soon. It depends on what Detective Douglas decides to do next. We won’t know until the morning, so you just hang tight and stay out of trouble. And by that I mean don’t talk to anyone.” He puts his hand on Owen’s shoulder. “And by anyone I mean detectives, the other inmates or even a pretty female officer who might stop by with coffee. Everyone in here could have an ulterior motive for talking to you. Got it?”
Owen frowns, then nods.
“Good. Be smart. If I were you, I’d just go to sleep early like it’s Christmas Eve. And then, who knows, Santa might bring you your freedom overnight.” Richie smiles reassuringly and then gathers his things together.
Douglas comes back with a vending machine coffee and a pre-packed sandwich. “Officer Greenburg will escort you back to your cell. I’ll be by to see you in the morning. Will you be coming back, Mr. Hope?”
“Of course. See you tomorrow, son.” Richie winks at Owen before leaving.
Officer Greenburg enters the room. “Ready?”
Owen’s not sure he is. Jim is a friend of his dad’s. What if his dad wants him threatened so that he doesn’t tell the police anything? He looks at Douglas but he can’t speak up in front of Greenburg. He has no choice but to follow him down to the holding cell. There’s a large white guy in one of the other cells who is staring at him like he wants to beat the shit out of him. Is he just being paranoid?
When he gets to his own cell, he sits on the bunk and sips the coffee. It’s bitter.
“Here you go, kid.” Greenburg stands in front of him with his cell phone. He turns the screen for Owen to read. It’s a text. “A message from Angie. You need to read it unless you want trouble.”
Owen’s heart pounds out of his chest. He looks up at Greenburg. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. Cops are supposed to be neutral. He realizes he’s not safe in here, even if he’s only in overnight. He looks back at the screen and reads the text.
Remember what I told you before you left? Your neighbor in there knows what to do should you ignore my advice.
Chills run down his arms. He reads the text three times, memorizing it. Officer Greenburg locks him in his cell without further comment.
On trembling legs, Owen stands up to look at the cell further down the corridor. The big guy is staring at him through the bars. Owen steps back. He’s trapped. If he tells the police about his dad’s businesses, this guy will kill him. He needs to ask Detective Douglas to get him away from here. But Richie said not to trust anyone. He collapses onto the uncomfortable bunk and tries to figure out what the hell he should do next.
54
The rain clouds from earlier are still looming overhead and blocking the sun that’s setting behind them. Nate knows that Madison’s exhausted and frustrated, so they drop Brody home and he drives them to a nearby bar, where they can let off some steam. It’s not like either of them can get Owen released tonight, no matter what they do.
At the dimly lit bar he orders them two shots of bourbon each and a couple of Buds, ignoring the sideways glances from the locals. It’s like they’ve never seen a stranger in these parts before. He wonders what they’d do if he switched the jukebox from a country song to a death-metal one. The thought makes him smile.
He joins Madison at a booth under a Bud Light sign that’s flashing in a way that suggests it’s about to give up and die any minute. She downs both shots, one after the other, then sips her Bud. “I knew coming back here was going to be difficult, but I had no idea it would be this bad. In all the scenarios I ran through in my head whilst locked up, I never contemplated the thought that Owen would be arrested for murder. And all because Douglas has it in for me.”
He sips his beer. “Well, technically, Owen’s prints are on the knife. Which means he must know something about what happened to Nikki.” He thinks that if anyone else dared to point this out to her she might hit them, but he feels like they’re close enough now for him to be completely honest. “It doesn’t look good for him.”
She nods as she peels the damp sticker off the bottle. “I know. I just hope Richie can work his magic. Maybe Douglas planted Owen’s prints on the knife?”
Nate doesn’t think so. “He would’ve had to do it after they brought Owen into the station, so I don’t see how he could have got away with that.”
“He could if they’re all in on it.”
He’s not so sure. “I agree that where there’s one corrupt cop there are likely others covering their back, but a whole department? It’s unlikely.”
She sits back in frustration. “So what was my son doing with the knife?”
“Maybe the knife belonged to him and he gave it to Nikki to protect herself, or she took it from him without asking. I don’t know much about forensics, but couldn’t his prints have been on there before it was used on Nikki?”
She nods. “Probably. I don’t know.” She takes one of his shots and downs it. “I’m so sick of fighting everyone. It’s been non-stop for years. I just want to hug my son.” Her voice catches.
He reaches across and puts his hand on hers. “I know.”
Nate can’t help thinking that if Madison’s right and Detective Douglas killed Ryan Levy and is now framing Owen for Nikki’s murder, he’s already got away with so much and nothing they do will expose him because he’s protected by his badge. No one’s going to believe their accusations, as Madison’s not respected around here and Nate’s a total stranger. They need concrete evidence, b
ut the case is so cold it’s difficult to catch a break.
“I can’t believe Kate had the nerve to show up,” she says.
“I don’t think you need to worry about her contacting you again.” Madison gave the reporter a mouthful, which he knows she’ll regret once she calms down.
She sits up straight and looks at him. “I have a horrible feeling about something and I need to say it out loud to see whether I’m being ridiculous.”
He’s intrigued. “Shoot.”
“Just before I left the McCoys’ ranch yesterday, Mike turned up. He said he was there to talk to them about Owen. But he looked shifty, as if he didn’t like the fact I was there. He almost looked like he’d been caught doing something wrong.”
“That’s odd. What’s it to him whether you visit your sister?”
“Exactly. And in the police station earlier he told me I should be grateful to Angie for taking Owen in. It felt like he was sticking up for her. But she’s nothing to him so why would he do that?”
Nate thinks about it. “You don’t think he’s having an affair with her, do you?”
“No way. Wyatt would kill him, and he was home so it’s not like they were hiding anything from him.”
“Could Mike be working an angle? Maybe he’s getting close to them to investigate something. Do you know if they’re into anything illegal?”
She scoffs. “I think everyone at LCPD has their suspicions that Wyatt’s up to something but no one has ever been able to investigate properly. Chief Sullivan always thought Wyatt’s preservation foundation was a front for money laundering and probably drug trafficking, but he was never able to secure permission from high up to look into it. We were a small PD, we had other fish to fry, and it was felt that as long as the McCoys were helping the community with their fundraising and not causing any obvious problems, it was best to leave them to it. Sullivan thought they’d shoot themselves in the foot one day and that would be when we would pounce. But it’s hard to find anyone local who will say a bad word about them.”
“What do you think Wyatt’s up to?”
She sips her beer. “Bad loans, financial fraud with the charity work, possibly distributing drugs. He’s always had more guys working for him than I’ve ever been able to put jobs to, and they all seem to do a lot of driving back and forth. Think about where we are: near America’s Four Corners. It provides a perfect opportunity to traffic drugs through and from four states. That’s why I can’t bear the thought that Owen had to live with them. I mean, what must he have learned from them? What must he have witnessed?”
Nate understands how that could weigh heavy on her for years to come. “Then perhaps that’s what Mike’s been looking into.”
She considers it. “You know, that could be the case. And maybe he’s pissed at me for potentially ruining his set-up. But…” she takes a deep breath, “I have a horrible feeling he’s working for them.”
Nate downs the final shot. “Doing what?”
She leans back with a determined look in her eye. “That’s what we need to figure out.”
55
Owen is lying on the cell’s hard bunk, but he can’t sleep. He keeps thinking of Angie’s message and the finality of no longer being a McCoy. He’s always considered himself to be Owen rather than Mason, but he feels even further removed from being a Harper after all this time. Is he supposed to change his name again now to something new? He wishes he could speak to his mom and find out what her intentions are. Will she take off and leave him languishing in prison?
“Hey, kid.”
He daren’t move. He and the big guy are the only people down here.
“McCoy?”
Owen doesn’t want to talk to him. He stays on his bed.
“I know you can hear me.”
His whole body is tense and he daren’t breathe for fear of this guy hearing him. Thankfully he can’t see him unless he walks over to the bars.
“You better do what Angie says,” the man continues. “Their lawyer told me that if you tell the cops anything about them, I have orders to silence you. So fess up. Did you tell them anything earlier? Are you a snitch?”
A door at the top of the stairway creaks open and Owen is thankful to hear footsteps descending the stairs.
“Hey, darling. You want to come join me in here?”
“Quiet, Harris,” a woman says.
Owen sits up and waits for her to reach them. He remembers what Richie said to him about speaking to no one, not even a pretty female officer who wants to offer him a drink. But when he sees her face, he feels like he recognizes her from somewhere.
She approaches his cell. “Everything okay?” She must have been watching them through the security cameras and noticed that the other guy was trying to talk to him.
He stands up and walks to the bars. Trying to keep his voice as low as possible, he asks, “What’s he in here for?”
She must see the fear on his face. “I can’t tell you that. Is he threatening you?”
He swallows. “I really need to know what he’s in for. Please.”
She looks over her shoulder at the guy. He’s smirking at them both like being in jail is a game to him. She turns back to Owen. “You might not remember me after all this time—you certainly look different from the last time I saw you—but I worked with your mom. My name’s Shelley.”
He looks at her kind eyes. “I think I do.”
She smiles. “His name’s Paul Harris. He’s been arrested for the murder of your mom’s friend Stephanie Garcia.”
Owen feels dizzy. He takes a step away from the bars as his ears ring. Shelley unlocks his door and comes inside. She pushes his shoulders so he sits on the bunk.
When his head clears, he looks up at her. “Did he really kill Stephanie?”
“That’s for a court to decide.”
Owen starts hyperventilating. He’s putting everything together in his head and the result is horrifying.
Shelley sits next to him, trying to get him to slow his breathing. “Do you need a doctor?”
He’s shaking his head. “No. I need to speak to Detective Douglas.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, kid,” says Harris from the other cell. “Remember what I just told you.”
“Shut up, Harris.” She appears to understand the seriousness of Owen’s request. “I’ll see where he is, but it’s late, he might be off duty.”
Owen grabs her arm. “Please. He’s going to want to hear what I’ve got to say.”
She looks him in the eye, trying to figure out if he’s just acting up. Finally she stands and walks to the door. As she locks him in, she says, “I’ll see what I can do. Hang tight.”
Owen lies back on the bunk, trying to regain control of his breathing.
“Oh, you’re done for now, buddy.”
He stares at the ceiling, trying to come to terms with what this means.
56
The next morning, Madison is up early despite the bourbon hangover. She was awake most of the night trying to figure out what Mike had to gain from helping Angie and Wyatt, and why he would even consider doing so. She talked herself into some pretty outlandish theories so she got up and showered, trying to clear her head.
After breakfast, she heads outside and stands leaning against the chest-high fence, watching the sun come up over the cornfields beyond Steph’s—her—land. She can sense Stephanie here this morning. It’s a strange feeling. It’s tricking her mind into believing that if she turned her head to the right, Steph would be standing next to her.
A swarm of excitable flies catch her attention. They’re buzzing around something in one of the corn tunnels ahead. From here it looks like the corpse of a raccoon. She’s heard the raccoons at night, grunting and rummaging around the barns for food. She wonders what killed this one, but she can’t tell from here; all she can see is open intestines and the flies. Her mind wanders to Nikki Jackson. She still can’t believe Owen’s prints are on the knife that killed her. She knows
that if she were Douglas, she would come to the same initial conclusion; that it’s more than likely Owen was present when she died.
Douglas told her he’d stopped Owen from driving in front of a train yesterday. She swallows. He was so close to dying. Has he been suicidal for a while? Is that why he was with Nikki when she died; because they did have a suicide pact? The thought of it makes her heart thump harder. If Douglas had found him minutes later, if he’d been held up at a red light, or stopped somewhere for a coffee, she’d be visiting her son in the morgue this morning.
She takes a sip of her coffee and watches the distant horizon.
Nate appears. “Morning.” He’s holding his cell phone in one hand and a coffee in the other. He stands next to her and leans against the fence. “What a great view.”
He’s right. The sun is peeking between the distant mountains and illuminating the cornfields and scattered scarecrows ahead of them. There’s a cool breeze in the air that makes her pull her cardigan a little tighter. “Mike said he’d update me on Owen’s situation this morning.”
Nate raises an eyebrow. “Think he will?”
“Who knows?” She stands up straight. “I’ve managed to convince myself that he’s been dealing drugs for Wyatt, which would be really fucking disappointing because I thought he was one of the few good guys around here. I don’t want to believe he’s as dirty as everyone else.”
He frowns. “You really think he’d do that? And how would we even begin to prove it?”
She sighs. “I don’t know. Locate someone who’s running drugs for Wyatt? Offer them money in return for information?” She checks her phone. Still no word from Mike. She’s heading to the station if he doesn’t call soon. “You know, I heard all sorts of rumors about Wyatt when I was younger, which is why I warned Angie off him. After he attacked me, I had to stay away and keep quiet. If I’d wanted to investigate him for any of the drug rumors or the financial fraud once I made detective, I would have had to report the rape, which would have made me seem like I had a personal vendetta against the guy.” She sighs at the unfairness of it all.
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