by Wes Markin
“You can always go to the Maine State Police with the truth,” Lillian said.
“No. The only thing that matters to me now is my boy, and I won’t be putting him in any danger.”
Lillian embraced Marion. “You’re so brave.”
“Nonsense, dear. There’re many out there with far deeper wounds than me.”
Lillian pulled back and held her at arm’s length.
Tears streaked the abused woman’s face. “I’m not the only life he’s destroyed, and I’m sure he’ll get his just desserts one day. It’s how you keep yourself going on the worst days, you know?”
Jake and Lillian both nodded.
Marion looked back and forth between her two visitors. “So, is this it then? Will he finally get what’s coming to him?”
“It’s a work in progress,” Jake said. “But I’m steadily growing in confidence.”
Jake and Lillian interviewed more ex-employers but did not find another story as soul-wrenching as Marion Spring’s. It was getting late, so Lillian suggested a drink in the Blue Falls Taps.
“And be seen with me? Despite your boss’s warning?” Jake said.
“You said it yourself, he despises Jotham. It’s all bluster. As long as we don’t go into him gung-ho, I think he’ll turn a blind eye for the time being.”
It was surprisingly quiet in the Taps, but then again, it was still quite early. Jake was pleased to see the barrels around the place were overflowing with peanuts so their shells weren’t yet a health and safety hazard. Jake pointed out the table in the far corner under the watchful eye of Captain William Ross. “Out of harm’s way.” The oil painting had captured a rather stern impression of the man, and Jake wondered if this had been his usual demeanor when he’d been alive.
“Out of harm’s way,” Lillian said with a smile. “Doesn’t seem like your style.”
“Believe me, that’s the style I strive for, but it continually evades me. Pint of Stinson?”
“Of course.”
“It’s crap, but that’s the best they’ve got.”
“Don’t say that too loud; you’ll cause a riot.”
Jake surveyed the clientele. It was early, and most were in their seventies. He raised an eyebrow at her.
“Don’t be fooled. You criticize the beer they grew up on, you’ll awaken something in them.”
Jake smiled. “One day I’ll bring over a barrel of Wiltshire’s finest, and that’ll awaken something in them alright.”
She nodded and went to the corner table.
Jake offered Piper a smile at the bar.
She returned it, but it was half-hearted.
Jake had spent many years in a failing marriage, so he knew immediately he’d pissed her off. He also knew it was better to deal immediately with the issue rather than let it fester. “We’re working.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Look. Lillian is a police officer, Piper. Her resources have gotten us this far. If I don’t work with her, I’ll be charging around like a bull in a china shop.”
“Instead, you’re drinking in a bar?”
“We’re taking a short break to discuss our next move. We’ve heard some harrowing stuff today.”
“So, this will help you think?” She hand pulled a Stinson.
Shit. She really reminded him of Sheila. He could never win an argument, even if he really believed himself in the right.
“Why don’t I bring over a pitcher then? Are you even any closer to finding Maddie?”
“To be honest, I don’t know. But I’m getting closer to him. And we both know the answer is there.”
“I just feel you’d be making better ground with me there.”
“Two of us walking around, raising hell in a town with closed ranks, is bad enough. Three of us would be ridiculous.”
Piper nodded toward Lillian. “So, you choose her?”
“You know why. And she’s good, Piper, not like the rest of that sorry department. We’ll get to the bottom of this soon enough. You’ll have to trust me.”
She poured the second drink. “Well, I’m coming over tonight.”
“I expect nothing less.” He smiled, and she smiled back.
“So you can fill me in. Not for anything else.”
Jake handed her a five and took both drinks. “Thanks for the swamp juice.”
“Have you not acquired the taste yet?”
“There’s taste?” he asked with a smile.
14
BLAKE THOMPSON COULDN’T see clearly from the blood in his eyes. Through the red fog, he glimpsed the outline of his kitchen table, so this was the way he crawled. The pain in his head was worse than the other night beside the pit, but at least it reassured him that he was still alive.
Close to the table, his hand fell on the iron that she’d used to knock him unconscious … or kill him. Had that been her intention? Not his beloved Marissa. Surely not. His whole existence had been about loving her, protecting her. Let her have her moment of despair, but please God, don’t let her have murderous intentions. Please don’t sully her with those.
He gripped the table edge with one hand and, with the other, lifted his T-shirt to wipe the blood from his eyes. It helped, but it was temporary. The blood was coming thick and fast. Using the table, he managed to ease himself to his feet and saw Sean at the kitchen door.
“Dad, are you all right?”
“Yes … yes … I’ll be fine.”
Sean ran around to him and put an arm around his shoulder to keep him steady.
Devin, his other son, was now at the kitchen door. “What happened?”
“She doesn’t know what she’s doing.”
Devin’s eyes widened. “Did Mom do this?”
“Yes, but―”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been unconscious.” Blake’s legs buckled in a wave of dizziness, but Sean took his weight and kept him upright.
Devin ran from the room.
Blake heard him bounding around the house, calling for his mother.
Sean helped him into a chair and handed him a towel to hold to his leaking head.
Devin burst back into the kitchen. “She’s gone.”
Blake stared at the table.
“Dad! She’s gone! What happened?”
“Your mother doesn’t know what she’s doing.”
Devin walked to the other side of the table. “What did you tell her?”
Blake didn’t reply.
“Dad, what did you tell her?”
“Everything.”
Devin slammed his fist on the table. “What?”
“She’s Maddie’s mother. She has a right to know.”
“Dad, what have you done? She’s probably completely lost it! Why would you tell her that?”
Blake dropped the towel and slammed down his hand, although not as hard. He pointed at Devin. “You watch your mouth, son. That’s your mother you’re talking about.”
“She’ll get us all killed.”
“No, Devin.” Blake tried to get to his feet. He heard Sean pleading with him to stay sitting but ignored him. “You’ll get us killed. Just like you got your sister killed.”
“How do you even know it was me? It could have been Sean.”
“Sean hasn’t got a bad bone in his body. He wouldn’t betray anyone, not even that monster.” Blake pointed at Devin. “No, it’s you who has always been the spiteful little shit.”
“Fuck you, Dad.” He turned. “You two sit here, talking trash about me, while I try to sort this mess.”
“I don’t think you understand, son. We’re past that stage.”
“You’re weak, Dad. That’s the problem here—old and weak.”
“I agree. I was weak when I made the decision not to pick you, son. It was you who should have gone into that pit, not your sister.”
Devin stormed from the room.
“I think we’ve come as far as we can,” Jake said and took a mouthful of Stinson I
PA. “I’m going in to threaten Jotham with the Maine State Police unless he hands over Maddie.”
“If he even has her,” Lillian said and finished her drink.
“Fast drinker?”
“It’s been an emotional day.”
“Why’ve you changed your mind? You were as convinced as I was that he had Maddie.”
“Yes, and I still am. But I’m not sure you confronting Jotham is the way to go. I think it’ll land you in an early grave. There’s got to be another way to get at the truth.”
“How?” Jake shrugged. “Gabriel Jewell is too spineless to help us properly, and, as we’ve seen today, anyone who has history with Jotham won’t challenge this man. We’ll never get leverage over him. I’ve no choice but―”
“This place needs livening up!”
Jake rolled his eyes when Justin Stone and his entourage of three men—one of who was Ayden MacLeoid—entered.
Justin gave Jake a little wave.
Jake ignored him. “That’s all we need—the first selectman’s arrogant son and the local mobster’s boy. A marriage made in heaven.”
“The other two, Cole and Isaac, are equally bad news. They work for Jotham. My colleagues have turned a blind eye to a few of their activities, one of which was a car wreck that put a boy in intensive care. They were both joyriding, drunk.”
Jake turned around again and watched them approach Piper at the bar. There was no music, and it was quiet, so Jake could eavesdrop on Justin’s usual and futile attempt to seduce Piper.
“I’ll pour you a drink, Justin, but if you suggest anything about our relationship progressing beyond a polite salutation again, I’ll tip it over you,” she said.
Cole and Isaac burst into laughter.
Justin elbowed one of them. “Fuck you two. Or you can buy your own.”
“Piper is great. So feisty!” Lillian said.
Jake nodded but didn’t reply. Something had his attention. Ayden MacLeoid wasn’t laughing. In fact, he looked like he wanted to be as far away from this place as he possibly could. Jake recalled his initial impression of him last night in Sharon’s Edge at the dogfighting ring. He’d been nervous and completely out of sorts as the hardman sent to scare away Jake. He faced Lillian. “Tell me about Ayden MacLeoid.”
“I thought I told you already?”
“Not much.”
“Okay, well, there’s an apple that did fall far from the tree. Unfortunately for him, that doesn’t stop him from being a MacLeoid, and he has responsibilities—responsibilities, the rumours go, he struggles to fulfil.”
“How so?”
“Well, I’ve not had much dealings with him, but I’ve heard several of my colleagues say he is the only MacLeoid with a heart.”
“I see.”
“The problem is that fetches him a few beatings. You often see him battered and bruised.”
“Could Ayden be our way to Jotham?”
“I don’t know. All said and done, Jake, he’s still a MacLeoid. The things he’s seen, the things he must have done—it really wouldn’t be in his best interest to betray his father.”
Ayden MacLeoid gave his apologies to Justin and, with his head lowered, skulked toward the exit.
Cole called after him, but Ayden ignored him.
“That man there is definitely on the losing side,” Jake said.
“You think this was who the chief was referring to?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll try to find out. I’ll call you later, Lillian. Stick around and keep an eye on these three for me, would you?”
“Yes, boss,” she said with a smile.
“Well, you wanted real police work, Lillian, so right here, watching Justin, is the right place for it.” Jake stood and went after Ayden.
Kayla desperately wanted Morris. She wanted to rub his soft head, kiss the little eye that hung down to his chest by a thread, and hold him tight. She was more than aware that, at thirteen, she was far too old to seek solace and safety in a toy monkey, but it was the sentimental value she craved right now; Morris had been a gift from her mother before she died. Despite only being four at the time, Kayla remembered her vividly. It was impossible to forget someone who’d loved her so passionately.
She heard Gabriel panting at her door. This had been the third time he’d returned since he’d locked her away. The first time, she’d turned to look at his eyes through the door slot and begged for her freedom. He’d not responded but simply stood there, making those horrible noises. She knew what he was doing. She’d often heard the boys at school joking about their “habits” and what they did behind closed doors at night.
But now this, Gabriel’s third visit, she was at a loss as to why it was so frequent. Was that normal? Did boys really do this again and again without much of a break?
As his breathing quickened and he moaned, she looked around the grey, windowless room. She wanted to cry, but she’d spent most of the day in tears and felt burnt out. Instead, she sat upright on her damp bed, hugged her knees against her chest and rocked.
Gabriel grunted and sighed. After he caught his breath, he said, “I’m sorry.”
She didn’t respond. She didn’t want to listen to this. She closed her eyes and thought about Morris.
“It’s better this way.”
She felt the urge to scream, so she murmured to herself, “Morris … Morris … Morris.”
“You’re safe here.”
“Morris … Morris …”
“I won’t touch you.”
Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Help me! Dad, Morris, anyone, HELP ME!
“This might seem disgusting to you, but this will keep me in control. It will keep you safe.”
She put her hands over her ears to shut him out, but there was no need, he was already leaving.
Piper couldn’t believe her eyes. She threw the dishcloth on the bar. “Marissa!”
Maddie’s mother didn’t acknowledge her call. It was unlikely she could hear over the wolf-whistling from Justin, Cole, and Isaac.
Marissa was barely recognizable from the woman Piper had visited yesterday. She wore high heels, fishnet stockings, a low-cut top, and an above-the-knee skirt. Her hair was pinned back, and her lips were painted red. She’d also taken pains to hide her deathly pallor with some dark rouge. She was dressed to kill.
“Mrs. T!” Justin, on his feet already, pounded the table like a wild chimp in a zoo. “Mrs. T!”
These animals were loud at the best of times, but several drinks had sent them off the scale. When Cole and Isaac swapped their whistles for howls, Piper decided enough was enough and strode to the end of the bar while keeping an eye on the event unfolding.
Marissa walked toward the three young men, smiling.
Piper thought she looked rather menacing, but she suspected her true intention was to look seductive. Why she would want to seduce these three knuckleheads was anybody’s guess, especially when they were more or less the same age as her own children. Piper reached the end of the bar, lifted the bar hatch and slipped through.
Marissa stopped at the table and placed her hand on Cole’s shoulder.
He stopped howling. He’d clearly not been expecting this.
Justin laughed and slammed the table again. “Mrs. T, what’re you drinking?”
“Same as you.” Marissa ran her fingers across Cole’s face then through his hair.
His face glowed.
“Not like you to be shy, Cole,” Justin said.
“Why don’t you sit down, Justin?” Piper said, coming alongside Marissa.
Justin held up the palms of his hands. “Wow. Is everyone seeing this? Piper is actually talking to me away from the bar.”
She sneered at him then touched Marissa’s arm. “Mrs. Thompson, can I have a word please?”
“Of course, dear.”
They stepped to one side. Piper glanced back to see the three young men eagerly watching them.
Justin, in particular, was making a real show of this. He sat
down, propped his head on his elbows and stared, wide-eyed and grinning.
She turned her back to them so she didn’t have to see their inane faces any longer. “Mrs. Thompson, what are you doing?”
“I’m out for a drink, my dear.” Marissa stroked Piper’s face. “Such a good girl. I can see why my Maddie liked you so.”
Liked? Why the past tense? “Do you know who these men are?”
“Of course. Cole and Isaac are friends with my boys. They work for Jotham MacLeoid.”
“Yes. So, I think it’s best if you stay―”
“And the other one, the showman, he’s the son of the chief selectman—the man who has helped turn this town into what it is today—Charles Stone. Although the rumor is that it’s his bitch wife, Priscilla, who really runs the place.”
“Again, another reason I think you should go home.”
“Such a good girl, dear. My Maddie loved you so. I’m old and wise enough to take care of myself though.” She kissed Piper’s forehead. “Sorry, honey, you may want to wipe that off.” She pointed at her lipstick.
“Are you thinking clearly, Mrs. Thompson?”
“This is the clearest I’ve felt in days, dear.” She walked past Piper.
Piper turned and watched Marissa sit on Cole’s lap and throw her arms around him.
The whooping and hollering started again.
“Is everything all right?” Lillian asked, coming alongside her.
Piper shook her head. Her blood felt like ice in her veins. “No. She just referred to her daughter in the past tense. Twice. I think she knows something terrible, and I think this is about to get very messy.”
“I just want to talk to you, Ayden,” Jake said, walking quickly to keep up.
They were on Main Street and drawing up alongside Rogers General Store.
“I’ve nothing to say to you. Stay away from me.”
It was late, and no one was about. Jake kept pace until they hit a series of busted streetlights then used the sudden patch of darkness to duck and swoop in. His shoulder met Ayden’s, and he crashed side-on into the brick wall with a sharp exhalation.