“Shit…” I groaned, tearing my gaze away from her. “Are you saying his kid shot us?”
“Dwayne was a marine. Brad went to Art School. Do the math,” she urged, the confidence in her tone not leaving much room for doubt. “I took a look at the place where you and your girl were attacked. The side of the house has been pretty much demolished. There are actual bullet holes in the lawn. If Dwayne had shot you, you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Why?” I rolled my shoulders, surprise pitching my voice higher. “Did my mother even know the guy?”
“Here’s why,” she assumed a calm, almost faint tone, leaving a large, brown envelope in front of me. I shoved my hand into it and felt paper on my fingertips. Slowly, I pulled out a pile of photographs and then flipped the envelope upside down. A cell phone fell onto the desk, stopping just two inches from the front edge.
The first picture sent shockwaves down my spine. My mother was holding a red mug in her hands, gazing up into the eyes of a tall, handsome man, much younger than her. Their relaxed expressions and their blissful smiles would convince even the most ignorant person in the world about their relationship. They were in love.
The second picture depicted my mother again, smiling and blowing a kiss to the camera. I didn’t have to look at any of the other photographs. I tossed them on the desk as Jake picked up the cell phone.
“Damn it…” I let out a huff of exasperation. “I thought she was dating Dwayne.”
“That’s Brad’s cell phone you have there,” Jessica pointed out. “I went up to Vermont today. He’s a waiter at a local diner.”
“You stole it?” I squinted my eyes, my breath quickening.
“No, I borrowed it,” her voice was dripping with sarcasm. “Of course I stole it. Where do you think I found all these pictures?”
“Holy crap…” Jake whispered, his eyes glued to the screen, disbelief written all over his face.
“What is it?” I murmured, snatching the device from his grasp. My friend wasn’t staring at a picture. He was in fact staring at a text message.
I can’t tell you how sorry I am, Brad. I’d been meaning to talk to you about our situation, but I just couldn’t find the courage. This is all my fault. I stood between father and son. I fell in love with you both. That’s the truth, baby. The only truth.
Fucking me AND my father? You’re going to pay for this, you whore. I swear to God, you’re going to pay.
I leaned forward on the desk, more waves of shock washing over me. “She was dating them both,” I uttered in a weak voice, resting my face on my palm.
“That’s right,” Trent gave a swift nod. “We can’t take the cell phone to the cops because it’s stolen, but we can tell them that we know that your mother was seeing both of them. It won’t matter how we found out. They need a motive? Let’s give them one. It will be enough for them to get a warrant.”
“A drive, huh?” A familiar, female voice grabbed my attention. I whipped my head around in surprise, my heart skipping a beat.
Stacy and Michelle had just stepped into Jessica’s office. “Why didn’t you tell us about this?”
“Great job, Trent. I’ll call you tomorrow,” I praised the investigator, rising up to my feet. “I’m sorry, hun,” I told Stacy, turning to her, “I was just trying to protect you.”
“By lying to me?” She raised her voice as we walked back out into the corridor. “Is that your idea of protecting me?”
“Okay, I screwed up,” I admitted, my own voice coming out mellower. “I’m sorry. I should have kept you in the loop.”
“Stacy, relax, will you?” Michelle requested. “He just found out who killed his mother. Cut him some slack.”
“How long had you guys been standing there?” Jake asked, gesturing towards the door.
“We got here about three minutes after you did,” Michelle responded. “You were just too distracted to notice us.”
“Let’s give them some privacy,” Jake suggested, taking his wife by the hand.
“Please, don’t lie to me again,” Stacy made her voice sound sweeter. “Okay, maybe you thought that bringing up the shooting would affect me and I respect that, but how long were you going to hide this from me?”
“Honestly? I was going to tell you about it when I got back,” I stated, maintaining eye contact with her. “And now, I have to ask you to go back home without me. I’m going down to Jersey to talk to that cop, if he’s still there at this time of night. You can come with, but I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Oh, I am coming with,” she emphasized, leaning over towards me. “I’d like to stand by my man.”
“Bu- Your man…” I repeated her last two words, nodding at the same time. “That’s got a nice ring to it.”
“Yep,” she agreed, planting a quick kiss on my cheek. “Let’s go.”
I smiled to myself, following her down the corridor. She had been so sweet and had already forgiven me. How could I even consider objecting to her idea?
Unfortunately for me, Stacy’s attitude was not my biggest concern. I had to find a way to announce to Detective Graham that my mother had been dating father and son, without letting him know about the cell phone that Jessica stole. It was pretty much useless to my mother's case, and could even get Jessica into trouble. Of course, she wouldn’t go to prison for that, but they might begin to question her methods. I didn’t want her reputation to be tarnished for something so insignificant…
Chapter 20
David
I called ahead to the station and spoke to the police reception—Detective Graham was still in the office and was working late. Seems my luck was in. The drive to New Jersey gave me some time to wrap my head around the information I had just been made aware of. Plus, I also needed to grapple with the fact that in order to get the police on board with investigating both Dwayne and Brad, I was going to have to lie to an officer of the law.
I couldn’t help but think that Anna had made a huge mistake.
She was a smart woman; she never should have been involved with two guys at the same time, especially father and son. Nevertheless, this didn’t give either of them the right to harm her, let alone kill her.
And why would they kill her?! I mean… they could have just ended things with her and then found someone else.
Although Trent had provided me with plenty of answers, I still hadn’t figured out why Dwayne had paid off that guy to threaten me. His son had tried to kill me and Stacy, and now was the main suspect for Anna’s murder.
Why did his father try to draw attention to himself?
Was he trying to protect his son?
This was the only thing I could think of…
“Earth to David. David…” Stacy waved her hand in front of my eyes, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Say something.”
“I’m sorry, I got distracted,” I said to her, scanning the area around me. We were in the parking lot of the police station, two officers chatting with one another at the gate as another two headed to their car to the left.
At that moment, I remembered the sad expression on the woman who had informed me of my mother’s death, Mrs. Feldman. She had been kind to me, and losing her friend like that had devastated her. I found her name on the contact list of my cell phone and called her, hoping that she wouldn’t mind corroborating my story.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Feldman, David Marshall here. How have you been?”
“Oh my, good evening, David. I can’t complain. Is everything alright? It’s almost eleven o’clock.”
“Mrs. Feldman, I’m sorry for the lateness, but I have a favor to ask,” I assumed a more serious tone. “I just discovered who killed my mother, but I used a somewhat unorthodox way to obtain that evidence. It will be inadmissible to court. I need you to tell the cops that my mom was dating Dwayne Carlton and his son, Brad, at the same time.”
“She did what?!” The elderly woman squealed.
“I’m afraid it’s true,�
� I continued. “Can you do that for me?”
“I knew she’d been dating Dwayne. I had no idea about his boy. My my, it’s funny how you think you know someone…”
“Mrs. Feldman, I’m sorry to be a pain, but I’m going to need an answer.”
“Okay, David. Should the police ask, I’ll tell them what you said.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Feldman. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
“That’s a pretty good idea,” Stacy said. “Still, it’s been a while since your mother’s death. What if the police suspect you’re lying?”
“If you have any better suggestions, I’m all ears,” I declared, pressing the ‘lock’ button on my key fob. “I think they’ll buy it. Old people tend to forget things, right? Why should Mrs. Feldman be any different?”
“I just hope it works,” she said, throwing a quick, sideways glance up at me. Two more officers in uniform strode out of the precinct as we approached. Slowing down, I took a deep breath, the hallway of the police station entering my line of sight. I was well aware that my plan wasn’t great. Even seemingly useless cop like Detective Graham had the experience to tell that something was amiss. All the same, it was the only thing I could think of.
Just a few feet from the reception to the right, I saw him heading in our direction, a serious look on his face as our eyes met across the hallway.
“Marshall, what are you doing here?” He posed a question, his tone stiff. “I told you I’d call you if I had any news.”
“I’m here to let you know about something,” I maintained. “Can we talk?”
“Yeah, sure,” he accepted with a nod.
I followed him into the main hall, the lack of noise not surprising me. It was well past eleven; most of the officers had left for the day. Just three more of his colleagues were at their desks, talking on the phone or typing on their computers. The first stage of my plan had gone well. Not only was he here this late, but I also had the necessary privacy for a proper conversation with him.
“So…” he paused, moving around his desk. “Why did you come all the way down here?”
“I talked again with one of my mother’s old neighbors, and showed her a picture of my mother’s ex and his boy,” I began, my heartbeat escalating. “She said they both used to swing by her place, sometimes even late at night. I hate to say it, but, um…” I faltered and squeezed my lips together. “I think she was dating them both at the same time.”
“Does that neighbor have a name?” He spoke slowly, furrowing his brow.
“Fran Feldman.”
“And she just…” he paused and rolled his shoulders. “Happened to remember that when you showed her a picture?”
“She’s eighty-two years old, Graham,” I reminded him of her age, my tone steady. “Old people tend to forget things.”
“Hold the bullshit,” he groaned, lifting his hand up, palm facing me. “I talked to that woman. I even asked her about Carlton and any other boyfriends your mother might have had. She didn’t say anything about a boy, and she just happened to remember him when you showed her a picture? You think I was born yesterday?”
“Why is it so hard for you to believe?” I wondered, his reaction disappointing me.
“Because it’s bullshit, that’s why!” He declared, glaring at me. “You’re so desperate to pin this on someone that you’d accuse anybody.”
“All right,” I murmured, easing my hand into my pocket. “I hired a PI. This is Brad Carlton’s cell phone. She, my PI, stole it while he was at work in some diner up in Vermont,” I went on, sliding the device over to him. “I know I may have bent some rules here, but check it out. You might find it interesting.”
“How do I know it’s Brad’s cell?” He narrowed his eyes, without even looking at the cell phone.
“You’ll find a lot of Vermont and New Jersey numbers on the contact list, along with his dad’s number,” I retorted, holding on to my temper. “Check the pictures, too. He’s got quite a few with my mother.”
“Fuck…” Graham whispered, staring at the screen. “You weren’t bullshitting me.”
“No kidding,” I scoffed. “Now, I think that’s a decent enough lead. I want him investigated.”
“Hold your horses, Marshall,” the cop urged, leaving the phone on his desk. “I’ll back up your story with Mrs. Feldman to justify the investigation on Carlton’s boy, but if he’s in Vermont, that is way out of my jurisdiction. Unless he comes back down to New Jersey, then I’ll have to contact the local authorities in Vermont and coordinate with them. I need at least twenty-four hours.”
“I get that,” I said. “I’ll be waiting for your call, Detective. Don’t let me down.”
At that point, I flipped around and stormed out of the hall, satisfied that he was finally willing to do his job. Had he done so during the investigation into the case, he would have saved me a whole lot of trouble, but better late than never.
The countdown for Brad Carlton’s arrest had started.
I just hoped that the police would do what they were supposed to, because this ordeal had taken too long. I just want justice for my mother…
Chapter 21
David
I lost count of all the times I checked the time on the dashboard clock during the drive home. When I heard Graham’s words about the time he needed to coordinate with Vermont Police, and hopefully arrest Brad Carlton, I thought that I would be appeased. Still, they had the exact opposite effect.
The cop’s statement had in fact acted like a gigantic rush of adrenaline. Once Stacy and I got back to my apartment, I felt like I was under the influence of a triple espresso. My eyes were wide open. My eyelids didn’t feel at all heavy. Indeed, I was so alert that going to bed sounded like a bad joke.
For Stacy though, things were different. She had almost fallen asleep in the passenger’s seat. Once we were in my apartment, she mumbled a ‘goodnight’ and went straight to bed.
I wished it was so easy to switch off. I wished I could just close my eyes and wake up twenty-four hours later. But, as time went by, I realized how hard it would be that night.
I was looking out at the view through the glass façade, with a single thought in my mind—the moment when Brad Carlton would get thrown into a prison cell.
I tried to distract myself by watching TV, but another appealing picture crossed my mind—Brad Carlton in handcuffs, being led to a police car.
My mind just couldn’t stop imagining up all the ways in which I wish he would be punished, how he would pay for what had done. And it wasn’t long before my thoughts turned to what I’d do if I got the chance to meet him face to face.
I’d take out all my anger and frustration on him. I’d drive him into the ground and unleash everything I had. He’d taken my mother away from me. He’d ended that chapter of my life, and so I would end his.
A moment of clarity hit me all of a sudden.
What the hell am I thinking? This isn’t me. I don’t beat people up—that’s just not who I am. I never liked fights. I wouldn’t walk away from one, but I wouldn’t start one, either. I always believed that it’s for people who can’t resolve their differences in any other way, because they’re too stupid to do so.
But with my thoughts turning in this direction, I couldn’t deny that it seemed like the one thing that could bring me some peace of mind. In this insane situation, it felt like a logical choice.
The wait that Detective Graham had spoken of, only twenty-four hours, was starting to feel like it would be too long. Every minute I would spend waiting for my phone to ring would feel like an eternity.
And so I made up my mind.
I headed over to the key rack on the wall, remembering that I would have to drive up to Vermont, in order to find Brad. I had to cover more than three hundred miles if I wanted to get there before dawn.
I realized now that I wanted this to be one-on-one with Brad. And with what Trent said about him working at that diner, I figured that’s where he’d be.
It was a long shot… but I was going to take it.
If I got there early it’s less likely the diner would be busy. Unfortunately, I didn’t know what the address of the diner was… So, I called Jessica Trent.
“Marshall, are you fucking crazy?” She protested, her voice hoarse from sleep. “Have you seen the time?”
“I need the address of that diner, Trent,” I rebutted, ignoring her complaints.
“Why? What do you have in mind?”
“Now, Jessica,” I raised my voice.
“I’m not going to help you do something stupid.”
“Give me that address or forget the hundred grand and the PR campaign I said I’d throw you.”
“You’re such a pain in the ass,” she growled. “3602, Fenmore Drive. It’s in Burlington.”
***
Stacy
The slamming of David’s front door stirred me from my sleep. My drowsy eyes snapped open, a sliver of fear slicing through me. Before I could move a muscle, my cell phone buzzed with an incoming call. Reaching over to the nightstand, I picked it up.
“This is Jessica Trent.” A deep, female voice was on the other end of the line. “I found your number in some documents your boyfriend gave me. He’s going after Brad Carlton.”
“What?!” I squeaked in terror.
“He blackmailed me into giving him Brad’s work address. He’s on his way up to Vermont as we speak.”
“Oh, shit,” I sighed, scooting out of bed. “How sure are you about this?” I asked, running out of the bedroom.
“Why else would he demand that address? By the way, it’s 3602, Fenmore Drive, Burlington.”
Jessica had yet to finish her phrase, when the grumble of a powerful engine resounded through the neighborhood. I stopped behind the glass façade, my heart sinking at the thought of David doing something so unbelievably reckless. The bright light of a purple neon sign across the street revealed his red Ferrari as it raced up the road.
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