by Wes Markin
“You think it’s worth calling the police?”
Piper raised an eyebrow. “Believe me, with the police service in this town, you want to make that a last resort.”
“Why?”
“Well, they’re useless, for a start.”
“They’re not about to ignore the disappearance of a fifteen-year-old girl though?”
“Jake, there’re things you don’t know about this town. It’s like a spider’s web—all tied up in itself.”
“You’re not making much sense.”
“It doesn’t make much sense to me either. It’s like everyone is connected, and no one can be trusted. It’s one of the reasons I am so desperate to get away.”
“And you think Maddie is mixed up in this spider’s web?”
“Not Maddie, no, but her family … possibly.”
“You’re being very cryptic, Piper.”
Piper sighed. “I’ve already put you in hot water, I’m not about to set it to boil.”
Jake smiled. “You like your metaphors. Here’s an idea. You tell me some of your secrets, and I’ll tell you some of mine.”
She didn’t return his smile. “There’s a farmer named Jotham Quimby MacLeoid. He’s not a selectman, and I don’t think he even sits in on board meetings, but he’s been around as long as the rest of them. I’ve personally had nothing to do with him, but Maddie has spoken of him a few times. She told me he holds a lot of sway over the running of Blue Falls—I’m guessing because he owns a lot of land and provides employment to many families.”
Jake nodded. “Including Maddie’s family.”
“Her brothers, Devin and Sean.”
“Farming?”
“I guess.” She looked away.
Jake could tell she wasn’t being completely transparent, but he didn’t push her. She was here for his help after all, and she’d surely get there eventually. “So, what concerns you about Jotham MacLeoid?”
Again, she looked away. “He’s not a good person. People try and stay out of his way.”
“Why?”
“As I said before, it’s someone I have nothing to do with. But that phone call to Maddie’s parents and the fact her brothers are involved with Jotham? This is not a good combination.”
“What would you like me to do?”
“I don’t know. Advise maybe?”
“In that case, I’m sticking with the police.”
“I’m really not sure it’s the best option. I’d like to keep it as a last resort.”
“Okay. You could visit the family first thing and actually see Maddie firsthand?”
“If she’s there.”
“Well, if she isn’t, you’ll really need to jump to the last resort, as it’s better than nothing.”
Piper sighed. “I guess you’re right. Will you come with me tomorrow morning?”
“Of course.”
“I’m exhausted. Shall we lie down?”
Jake was speechless.
“Don’t look so shocked. I just want to rest a little while you fulfill your end of the bargain.”
“Ah, my secrets?”
Piper smiled for the first time since arriving at his room.
After Jake had told Piper about his short career as a police officer, excluding the part where he’d become mixed up with the wrong people, he excused himself to shower.
When he returned, fully clothed now, he said, “Thought you’d be asleep by now. My showers are notoriously long.”
“There’s a lot of you to wash, I guess, but you couldn’t expect me to fall asleep before finding out what happened next?”
“Sorry to disappoint, but I just quit the police and left the country.” Like Piper had done earlier, he looked away as he said this. He’d not quit; he’d run.
“You don’t have any family then?”
Jake shook his head and glanced over to the bedside drawer where he kept his five photographs of Frank—one for every year of his life. “So, there aren’t any more secrets, I’m afraid. You’re best getting some sleep.” He climbed onto the bed and lay as close to the edge as he possibly could so as not to worry her.
She clearly wasn’t worried. She rolled onto her side and shuffled closer to him. “Adopted by a god-fearing family when I was a baby, studious at school but results weren’t the best, attended a Lutheran church throughout childhood but haven’t been in over a year much to the displeasure of Mom and Dad, dead-end bar job, chronically bored in Blue Falls.” She smiled.
“Wow.”
“Well, two can play at the boring life story.”
Jake rolled over so he was facing her. He propped up his head by his elbow and noticed her blouse’s top buttons were undone, revealing a pink blemish on her collarbone.
“This?” She pulled the blouse to expose the whole of her collarbone and a large pear-shaped birthmark.
He thought briefly of the white scarring on Peter’s shoulder. “I like it.”
“Yes, me too.” Piper smiled and closed her eyes.
Jake didn’t speak again. He let her drift off, and when her breaths started to quietly whistle, he closed his own eyes and listened to them for a while.
Jotham sat on his daughter’s bed and surveyed her poster of boys in bands with perfectly cropped hair. He hated their air-brushed faces, hated their music, and hated what they stood for, but he loved Kayla, so he allowed it in his house. He noticed the toy monkey she still slept with on her pillow and picked it up—a gift from her mother, Iris Clark. A prostitute. Pretty woman. Calm temperament. She’d died young from breast cancer. The eye was hanging out of the monkey. He kept hold of it so he could repair it. A welcome home gift.
His cell rang. “Go on.”
“No sign of her, Dad,” Ayden said.
Jotham took a deep breath through his nose.
“Dad? What do you want me to do?”
Jotham stood and approached one of the boy band posters. This particular ponce irritated him. He’d spent most of his irrelevant life bouncing from sunbed to gym and went for the tightest sleeveless shirt he could find to prove it.
“I don’t want you to call me again until you have her.”
“But, Dad―”
He hung up, slipped his cell into his jeans pocket, secured the monkey into his jacket pocket and tore the poster from the wall. Then he started to shout and roar.
Outside, his dogs barked.
After his erection had waned, Gabriel Jewell closed the laptop. He went to the kitchen, put the used tissue into the trash and scrubbed his hands. When he felt they were clean enough, he returned to the living room, put on his dressing gown and stood Collette’s photograph back up. He sat and watched sap bubbling on a log while he appreciated the absence of his demons.
A frantic knocking sounded at the door.
He went to the front door, glanced at his Remington 700 propped against the wall beneath his jackets then looked through the peephole. His eyes widened.
Kayla MacLeoid.
As best he could, he tried to see around her through the peephole. No sign of her brother Ayden or her bastard father, Jotham. He opened the door. “Kayla, why’re you here?”
She entered quickly.
He sidestepped so she’d brush against him, rather than barging straight into him. He closed the door, and she turned to him.
Her long black hair was disheveled, and she was crying hard. She threw her arms around him. “Help me.”
“Of course. Come in where it’s warm.” He led her into the living room and sat her on the sofa. Under the room’s light, Gabriel saw how red and swollen her face was. He grabbed his laptop off the table. “Let me get you some milk.”
Leaving his laptop in the kitchen, he returned with a mug of warm milk. He sat alongside her and eased her forward. He put the mug to her mouth, and she managed a sip.
“Thank you.”
He put the mug on the coffee table and slipped an arm around her shoulders. He eased her against him and squeezed her tightly to offer her s
ome reassurance. He allowed several minutes for the racking sobs to subside then scooted away from her so he could look her in the eyes. He put his palm against her hot cheek. “Tell me, child, what’s happened?”
“The pit.”
“The pit?”
“Maddie … oh god, Maddie. Dad told Ayden to hurt her … and he did … and then Anthony pushed her in …”
Gabriel’s heart bashed against his ribcage, and he tasted bile climbing the back of his throat. He’d heard of the pit—many had, of course—but he’d never really believed in its existence. It was just a rumor, wasn’t it? Another ingredient in the terrifying aura that surrounded Jotham MacLeoid and kept people in line. “Why were you there?”
“I followed Dad.”
Sweet Jesus, what have you just involved me in, girl? “Why did you come to me?” He tried his best to not allow his rising irritation and anxiety to creep into his voice, but he couldn’t stop his eyes narrowing slightly.
She noticed and recoiled. She would also be disturbed by his question because the answer was all too obvious. Her bottom lip trembled as she spoke. “Because you’re the chief of police.”
4
JAKE RAN HIS finger down the deep scratch on the side of his Ford. “Once the rental company has finished gouging me for this, I may be applying for the cleaning job at the Taps to help take on those peanut shells.”
“I know someone who’ll do a fair price,” Piper said. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks.” He patted his back pocket. “I’ve forgotten my wallet. Just hop in the car; I’ll be back in a moment.”
Piper nodded and climbed in.
Jake ensured the motel room’s door was closed behind him before he removed a large bundle of British notes from the back of the closet. He peeled off about two hundred pounds. He doubted he’d find anywhere to exchange it on a Saturday around here, but he was running significantly short on dollars, so it was best to stay prepared in case there were any options. When he eyed the money in his hand, his mind flew back to the burning car and the eyes of the broken boy, Paul Conway. Lowering his head, he sucked in a deep breath and tried to stifle the memory―
A pounding at the door knocked him out of his own world.
“Are you all right in there?” Piper asked.
“Yes, coming.” He pushed the bundle to the back of the closet, folded the four fifty-pound notes and slipped them into the inside pocket of his Barbour then joined Piper outside. Because he was stiff from last night’s conflict and hated driving, he was glad when Piper offered.
She looked surprised when he nodded.
“Sorry, am I challenging gender roles?” Jake said.
“Yes, I’m glad to say. You’ll be surprised how deep-rooted those gender roles are around here.”
“I probably wouldn’t be, to be honest.”
She drove at a steady pace to the Thompson farmyard, and he was glad. He was a nervous driver.
Being from Wiltshire, Jake was no stranger to farmyards, but the size of the Thompson one surprised him. The narrow dirt road that speared into the heart of it seemed to go on forever. “How much land does this family own?”
Piper shrugged. “Does it matter?”
“I guess not. But, if a man owned this much land in Wiltshire, he wouldn’t need to send his sons to work for a man like Jotham.”
“They’ve had a couple of bad years, according to Maddie. It’s been too hot, and we’ve had below-average rainfall. Crops have suffered.”
They pulled alongside a Cape Cod-styled farmhouse—a large white-washed, single-story building with a steep roof and a large central chimney.
“Do you think we should have warned them that we were coming?” Piper said.
“Too late now,” Jake said, climbing out of the car.
They headed down the path and climbed the steps onto the covered front porch. While Piper rang the doorbell, Jake stood back against the railing, admiring the wicker furniture—a far cry from the rustic rocking chairs he’d always assumed sat on every farmhouse porch in America.
A young man answered the door.
“Hello, Sean,” Piper said.
Sean edged backward. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Jake stepped forward and noticed a black eye.
“I just came to check on Maddie―”
“She’s fine.” His tone of voice suggested otherwise.
Jake stepped alongside Piper. “You wouldn’t mind us saying hello then?”
“Sorry, who are you?” Sean asked, his top lip trembling.
“That’s a good question,” a younger man said with a calmer, more confident tone. He stepped alongside Sean, displaying his swollen lips and bruised cheeks.
“Good morning, Devin,” Piper said. “Sorry to stop by unannounced, but we’re worried about your sister.”
“No need to worry. She’s fine.”
“Yes, your parents said so last night, but we’d like to come in and wish her well, if that’s okay?”
“It isn’t,” Devin said.
Jake glanced at Piper and saw her eyebrows were raised. He refocused on Devin and watched it dawn on him that he’d been far too abrasive.
“Sorry,” Devin said. “On any other day, you’d be welcomed in, Piper, but not with this stranger, I’m afraid.”
“My name’s Jake Pettman. I don’t mind waiting in the car―”
“No,” Sean said. “We don’t want you left alone on the property. No offense.”
“None taken,” Jake lied.
“There isn’t much point,” Devin said. “Maddie has gone to Vermont.”
“Why?” Piper asked.
“She needed some time away.”
“Okay … strange she didn’t let me know. When will she be back?”
Devin shrugged. “I don’t know. Look, we’re quite busy here.”
“How did you split that lip?” Jake asked.
Devin turned his gaze from Piper and stared up at Jake. “Fell over a buckled rug in the living room.”
Jake nodded. “I see.” Keeping his focus on Devin, he pointed at Sean. “Did you not think to straighten the rug before he fell over it too?”
Devin’s eyes narrowed. “You maybe want to watch your mouth―”
“Who is it?” a woman’s voice asked.
“It’s okay, Mom. Just a delivery,” Devin said and elbowed Sean to gesture at his mother with a nod. He went back to get her.
“Mrs. Thompson, it’s Piper Goodwin―”
“Shut up!” Devin said.
Jake inched forward. “I respect this is your house, but I don’t respect that tone.”
Mrs. Thompson joined Devin at the door.
Sean was floundering around behind her.
“Piper, so good to see you.” She reaching out and took her hands. Her face was pale and withered, her eyes glazed, and her hair hung drably over her face. She was still in a nightgown.
“You too, Mrs. Thompson.”
“Please, you have been ever so good to my Maddie. Call me Marissa.” Her voice was frayed.
“Of course, Marissa.”
“She always talks about you. Would you like to come in?”
“Mom,” Devin said. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
Marissa ignored her son and pulled Piper into the house.
Devin thrust out his hand to stop Jake from following her in.
Piper turned back. “May I bring in my boyfriend please, Marissa?”
“Of course.”
Devin kept his hand where it was.
Jake stared down at him. “Don’t make this difficult. Our intentions are good.”
Devin dropped his hand and turned away. “Shit!”
Marissa led Jake and Piper into the kitchen which, again, was far less rustic than Jake expected—stainless-steel appliances, spotlights, and a granite tabletop in the center with stools around it. “Please sit,” Marissa said, “while I make some coffee.”
Jake and Piper took a seat.
> While Marissa filled the carafe, Devin entered the kitchen and leaned against a cabinet with his arms crossed, glaring at their two guests.
“Marissa, I wondered―”
“Just a moment, my dear,” Marissa said, measuring the ground coffee into the carafe. “There’s an art to this. Blake is forever at me to get this just right.”
Piper and Jake waited in a silence that stretched and stretched to the point where the tension was palpable. Jake rolled his shoulders, and Piper flashed him a look when his back cracked.
Eventually, Marissa approached the table with four cups of coffee rattling on a tray and a small dish of sugar cubes. Piper had told Jake that Maddie’s mother was in her early fifties. Right now, she looked much older than that.
“Here, let me help you.” Jake rose and circled the tabletop. He gave Devin an angry look for not making any effort to help his mother.
Devin’s expression remained unchanged, and his arms stayed folded.
Jake took the tray from the frail lady and placed it on the granite surface.
“Marissa, where’s Maddie?” Piper asked.
Marissa looked up at Piper and smiled. “My daughter. She’s a beautiful girl, isn’t she?”
“Yes, she is.”
“Such a good girl too. Always does as she’s told.” She pointed backward in Devin’s direction. “Girls are always so much easier than the boys.”
“Well, I’m not sure my parents would agree with you there,” Piper said.
Marissa reached to take Piper’s hand. “Maddie talks about you all the time, you know.”
“That’s nice. We’ve been working together a long time. With all that drinking and male bravado going on in the Taps, it’s good to have another like-minded individual to stick to.”
“You make sure you never take grief from any man, girl,” Marissa said.
“I don’t intend to.”
“Blake used to treat me like a princess, you know.”
“I’m sure he still does, Marissa.”
“No, dear, those days are long gone.”