Nate’s phone buzzes. He looks at it before answering. “Hey, Rex.”
It’s a video call this time. Rex looks exactly as Madison pictured him: a little overweight, with a thick brown beard and hair that’s about two years’ overdue a cut. He has a small dog curled up on his lap and a black kitten balancing on the back of his computer chair. Nate told her he runs some kind of animal shelter from his ranch in San Diego.
“Hi. You both managing to stay out of jail?” he laughs.
“So far so good,” says Nate.
“Good for you. So, I found out more about Detective Don Douglas.”
Madison leans in. Are they finally going to hear concrete evidence that he’s corrupt?
“I don’t think it’s what you’re expecting, though. In his previous police department, he was partnered with another detective, Joseph Ramirez. They were close buddies by all accounts; their families socialized together and even shared vacations.”
Madison raises her eyebrows. She’s surprised Douglas ever socialized with anyone.
“Anyway, one day they were having a birthday party for his six-year-old daughter.”
“Wait,” she says. “Whose daughter was this? Joseph’s?”
“No, Don’s.”
“Douglas has a child?” She can’t believe it. “I didn’t even know he was married.”
“Well, let me finish,” says Rex. “They were enjoying her birthday party on the front lawn one summer’s day when there was a drive-by shooting.”
Madison gasps.
“Apparently someone wanted Joseph dead in retaliation for a conviction. And they took their opportunity while everyone was out front.”
“Did the shooter get him?”
Rex sighs. “It sounds like Douglas and Joseph jumped in front of the kids the minute they heard gunshots. Douglas managed to save Joseph’s son and daughter. Joseph tried to save Douglas’s daughter. Unfortunately, she was fatally shot, as was Joseph. That day Douglas lost his daughter and his partner. His wife was clipped, but she survived.”
Madison turns away with her hand to her mouth. For the first time ever, she feels sympathy for Douglas.
“Shit,” says Nate.
“Within a year of that, his wife left him and they divorced. Just six months later, he started at LCPD, which is obviously when you would’ve first met him.”
She realizes Douglas must still have been raw from what had happened. “This is why he has a massive chip on his shoulder about cop killers.”
“I feel for the guy and all,” says Nate, “but Madison didn’t kill Officer Levy and he should have been able to see that if he’d investigated properly.”
Rex doesn’t look so sure. “From what I’ve read of Madison’s conviction, her gun was the weapon used. It had her prints on. It’s a pretty compelling case.”
Nate glances at her, probably wondering if she’ll react. She doesn’t, because he’s right: on the outside it looks obvious that she killed Ryan.
She’s overcome with disappointment. With no alternative suspect, she’s never going to clear her name.
57
Madison looks at her coffee, but she’s feeling too nauseous to finish it. “After hearing that, I think we need to eliminate Douglas as a suspect. He had nothing to gain. All this time I’ve mistaken his determination to convict me for a personal vendetta instead of a need to see justice done for a fellow cop.”
“I agree,” says Nate. “Which leaves the Levys, or someone else from your department.”
She tries to think. “But no one from my department had a motive either.” She thinks of Mike’s face when he saw her with Angie. He went pale. He was concerned. He must have thought she’d figured something out. “Wait a minute.”
“What?”
“If Mike is working for the McCoys…” She tries to think. “What if it was Wyatt who shot Ryan and he got Mike to fix the crime scene to frame me?”
Nate’s apprehensive. “Surely Mike wouldn’t just let someone kill another cop? Was he friends with Ryan?”
She tries to think back. “Yeah, he was.”
“So there was no reason for him to want Ryan dead?”
Her memory is patchy. It’s been such a long time since they all worked together. “No. There was no beef between them that I knew of.”
“So why would Mike let Wyatt get away with it?”
Eighteen years ago, Wyatt threatened to hurt her mom if she ever told anyone about the rape. She believed him, but as time went on, the threat diminished because she kept out of his way. She was busy raising Owen and caring for her mom here in Lost Creek. Angie never visited. She and Wyatt weren’t the pillars of the community they seem to be now; they were busy building up Wyatt’s scrap business in Gold Rock and Madison had stopped thinking about them.
“I was five days into my new role as detective when Ryan was killed, and I can’t shake the feeling that that’s significant in some way.” A thought occurs to her. “Was Wyatt scared I was about to arrest him for rape? Or for anything else he was up to? Did he live in fear that I was going to take him down because I finally had some power?”
Nate nods slowly. “Maybe he was working on the belief that you had spent all those years in law enforcement to become a detective for that very purpose. Though if he was that worried, wouldn’t he have just killed you instead of Ryan?”
She considers it. “No, because who would they pin my death on? The unsolved murder of a female detective would’ve made the national news. It would be difficult to get away with. Whereas framing me for murder would discredit me in the eyes of the law and the community, so that no one would take me seriously if I accused him of anything. Plus, he gets the satisfaction of seeing me serve a prison sentence. He was probably banking on me getting life without parole for murder, not a lesser manslaughter conviction.”
Nate is slowly nodding as he pieces it all together. “That’s the most likely theory yet. And whether or not it’s true, Wyatt has another motive you’ve not mentioned.”
She looks at him. “What’s that?”
“Owen.”
She turns away and thinks about her son. Angie said Wyatt had suspected for a while that Owen was his. Angie couldn’t have children, so he might have longed for a son to keep the McCoy name going. No wonder Angie was hostile toward her. For the last seven years she’s been living with a constant reminder of her husband’s betrayal. She must have believed him when he told her that Madison had seduced him. And Owen had been caught up in it all.
She takes a deep breath. “Mike must have been the one to frame me. He’d been to my house many times and knew where my gun safe was. He knew where I kept the key, and I’d told him Ryan was taking me for a birthday treat after work. He knew that day was the perfect time to make it look like Ryan and I were in a relationship.” She realizes how badly he’s betrayed her. But it does answer another puzzle. “He probably made a copy of my safe key.”
“How would he get your keys away from you for long enough to make a copy?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know. I could have left them unattended at work, I guess. Although I don’t remember ever doing that.” Her heart sinks at the costly error. “But it was a police station, they should have been safe!”
Nate’s looking doubtful now. “I get Wyatt’s motive, but why would Mike agree to frame you for a murder Wyatt committed? What’s his motive to hurt you that way?”
She’s not a hundred percent certain yet. “He must have been desperate. Wyatt must have had something on him. Maybe Mike owed him money. I don’t know. We need to find out.” She faces him. “This is some serious shit, Nate. I need to take it to Douglas.”
“I agree. This is way bigger than us.”
As she reaches for her cell phone, it rings. “Hello?”
It’s Douglas himself. “I need to see you at the station. It’s urgent.”
Even though she was about to contact him, she feels the same dread as always when she hears his voice. “On my way.”<
br />
58
Detective Douglas is sitting in the interview room with Owen Harper across from him. The boy is shaking, spilling the coffee Don brought him, and he hasn’t touched his breakfast. He’s clearly afraid of the repercussions that come with his decision to disclose his father’s secrets. The boy has a habit of regularly pushing his blond hair out of his eyes, and Douglas can see the resemblance to Madison. They share the same frown.
“So before I ask you to sign this,” he nods to the statement in his hand, “I want to read out the main points to make sure you agree with what’s been recorded, okay?”
Owen looks at his lawyer, who gives him a reassuring nod. “Okay.”
“You’ve told me that you think Paul Harris—who is a suspect in the murder of Stephanie Garcia—works for your father, Wyatt McCoy. You suspect this because Harris threatened you last night by stating he has orders to harm you if you disclose anything to us about your father or his wife.”
Owen nods.
“You also stated that Officer Jim Greenburg showed you a threatening text message from Angie McCoy. You said Officer Greenburg is a friend of your father. That correct?”
“Yes.”
He’ll have to deal with Greenburg next. He takes a deep breath and wishes Mike would arrive so he can help get this latest problem contained in half the time. “So why do you think your father would harm you? What’s he up to that he doesn’t want you to tell us about?”
As he battles his emotions, the boy looks younger than his seventeen years. He glances at his lawyer again.
“Go ahead,” says Richie. “Everything you tell Detective Douglas will help solve Stephanie’s murder and keep you safe.”
He runs his hand through his hair, then tries to get comfortable. It’s clearly hard for him to give his father up to the police. Don admires the boy’s bravery. The McCoys are fierce opponents and not to be underestimated. He’s going to have to protect Owen from any retaliation.
“You promise you’re not going to put me back near Paul Harris?”
Don nods.
Owen takes a deep breath and sits back in his chair. “My dad traffics coke, pot and meth across Utah, Colorado and New Mexico. He doesn’t do it himself; he pays people to do it for him. His scrap business is just a front that barely makes any money. He earns way more from the drugs but he also offers loans to anyone in need. Except…” He hesitates. “I’ve heard rumors he’s taking people’s homes and cars when they can’t pay his interest rates.”
Don feels excitement building in his stomach. Owen’s confirming everything he’s suspected over the years but Chief Sullivan would never let him investigate. He always said the problem was too big for such a small department to bring down alone. In other words, he turned a blind eye, probably because he wanted an easy retirement.
“What about all the fundraising he and his wife do?”
Owen scoffs. “About seventy percent of that lines their own pockets. They give away just enough to avoid suspicion and to keep people digging deep for local causes.” He takes a sip of his coffee, but he looks exhausted.
Douglas suspects that everything he’s saying is true, but he doesn’t have the luxury of probing into details and interviewing potential witnesses right now. If Wyatt McCoy hired Paul Harris to kill Stephanie Garcia, he needs to act fast. Because Wyatt has already put a hit out on his own son, and if he’s capable of that, he’s capable of anything.
He thinks about how all this ties in with Madison’s conviction. If Wyatt did order the hit on Stephanie, and the hit man was hassling her about Madison’s location, then it means Wyatt wanted to know where Madison was after her release. But why? He considers whether Wyatt could have killed Officer Ryan Levy to deliberately frame her. But he’s her brother-in-law. Why the bad blood?
He looks at Owen.
It dawns on him then. Madison had something Wyatt wanted. Fuck. This is bad. If he was wrong about Madison, his career is at stake. But worse than that, he made a fellow detective serve time for something they didn’t do.
“Are we done now, Detective?” asks Richie.
He takes a deep breath and looks at the documents in front of him. “Almost. For the record, you still maintain everything you told me during your initial interview: that you did not kill Nikki Jackson?”
Owen looks pained. “Of course I didn’t. I loved her. We were going to move away together.” He swallows hard.
Richie puts a hand on the boy’s back. He looks at Douglas. “Why is Officer Greenburg passing messages to someone in custody? Is that normal practice in this police department, Detective? Is there anyone we can trust around here?”
Good question. Before he can reply, the door to the interview room opens. It’s Officer Vickers. “Detective? Madison Harper’s arrived.”
Owen looks up incredulously. “My mom’s here? ” He stands up. “Can I see her?”
Don stands up and moves to the door. “Not yet. I need to speak to her first. Wait here.”
He leaves the boy with his attorney and speaks to Officer Vickers. “Stay here and don’t let anyone in this room. Not even his mother.” He’s not taking any risks.
Shelley glances over his shoulder at the boy, then she nods. “Understood.”
59
Independence Day
Owen approaches the Ferris wheel, the only ride currently lit up. Everything else is in darkness because the park is completely empty. Well, almost. He checks his cell phone. Nikki messaged him almost half an hour ago, at 11.30, asking him to meet her here.
As he meanders through the park, he stops to take a photo of the wheel. It looks cool surrounded by darkness. Its red, yellow and blue lights are flashing away merrily, but without a park full of people and music it feels a little ghostly. Having worked here almost every day this summer, he never thought he’d miss the sound of kids squealing in delight as they’re terrified to the point of vomiting. He can still smell the mixture of sugar and meat in the air from earlier.
After he takes the photo, he uses his cell phone to zoom in on the top of the wheel. He smiles. It looks like Nikki is up there waiting for him. She must have got bored. He pockets his phone and walks toward the ride, wondering what was so urgent it couldn’t wait until they see each other tomorrow afternoon. Perhaps her dad bailed on her and she needs a ride home after all.
When he reaches the ticket booth, he jumps the barrier and waits as the Ferris wheel spins achingly slowly. When he first started here, Trevor told him it turned that slow so that people felt like they were getting their money’s worth. He pulls his phone out and snaps a few more photos to pass the time. Then he waves at her. She doesn’t wave back. He hears something behind him and turns, his eyes searching the darkness. There’s no one there. But it would be hard to tell unless they were a couple of feet in front of him. The hairs on his bare arms spring up. Something’s wrong here.
He looks up at Nikki’s car on its slow descent. He checks the text she sent him.
Meet me at the Wonder Wheel.
There are no kisses. And she didn’t reply to his text asking whether everything was okay. He swallows hard. It must be this place freaking him out. The park is always creepy when it’s empty.
He has his hand ready on the wheel’s control as he watches Nikki’s car approach the unloading point. She still hasn’t acknowledged him.
When her feet are level with the ground, he switches the ride off. The brakes squeal as the huge wheel bumps to a stop. “Hey.” He approaches her and realizes her head is slumped. Has she fallen asleep? “Nikki?”
Panic washes over him as he notices the blood accumulating around her pale wrists. “Shit! Nikki!” He pulls the safety bar open and crouches at her feet. The knife she used is on her lap. He picks it up and drops it to the ground at their feet, thinking about trying to stem the flow by grabbing her wrists. But one tentative touch of the blood tells him it’s starting to clot. The damage has been done. “No!”
He cups her head in his hands, pushin
g her hair to one side and looking for any reaction in her eyes. There is none. She’s looking through him. The awful feel of her cold face and rigid neck makes him pull his hands away in fear.
“Nikki, what have you done?” Tears build in his eyes as he realizes his girlfriend has killed herself. Was she hoping he’d arrive in time to save her? Shock works through his body. His teeth start chattering and his heartbeat throbs in his head. Then he realizes he’s touched the knife. His prints will be on it. Could the cops make it look like he killed her? Probably. They were quick enough to arrest his mom for murder.
He doesn’t know what to do, but he knows he doesn’t trust the local police. He picks up the knife. He has to ditch it somewhere. If he leaves here with it, he could be pulled over on the way home. He looks at the Haunted House. There are plenty of places to hide it in there.
He takes one more look at Nikki before he goes, but the girl he’s in love with is no longer there in the body in front of him. She’s lost to him forever.
60
Nate watches as Madison paces the waiting area in the police station for the second time. It’s not even seven o’clock yet, but the station feels warm with the sun shining brightly through the glass-paneled front. Madison’s nervous energy is rubbing off on him; he’s jittery, wondering if she’s finally going to be reunited with her son.
“Remember,” he says, “don’t aggravate Douglas. He’s the only person who can grant you access to Owen. Let’s focus on what we came here for.”
Cry For Help Page 23