by Desiree Holt
Micki grabbed the sheets of paper from him, and Alex sat beside her, his arm around her. It was hard to say who was the most shocked as they read the words.
“And I know I will live in hell because of it. When we were in college together, Frank Harding, Jim Northrup, Adam Hoffman, Drake Brandt, and I, I am ashamed to say our morals were somewhere below the gutter. We got into a game, to see how many girls each of us could get drunk and have sex with. Sometimes the girls got so drunk they’d pass out and, if we were lucky, they wouldn’t remember it.”
Micki leaned into Alex, not wanting to read any more but knowing she had to.
“It didn’t stop when we married. I loved you, Dana. It had nothing to do with you. It was nothing more than a game fed by our egos. We’d go into Billings or Bozeman or Helena. Each of us would pick up a girl, take her to a motel, and see who could have sex more times.”
But after a while, the thrill wore off, and we needed something more. We were all going to a party at Evan Gilmore’s, and Drake said he bet he could have sex with Evan’s daughter and get her not to tell.
“I won’t go into any more details because, as I write this, I am even disgusted with myself. But each party one of us would have his turn, and as long as we got away with it, the thrill was incredible. Then, despite our threats, once in a while one of the girls would report it. We asked Jeff Bartell to handle it, never ever imagining he would do it by killing the girls. He told us we had to make good on the threat, and we paid him a lot of money to clean up our mess.
“One thing we swore. We would never ever touch each other’s daughters. Then, at dinner a couple of weeks ago, Adam was taking something out of his pocket, and a tiny M charm fell onto the table. The one I gave Micki for her birthday. I was so shocked, I could hardly breathe, and we ended up having a knock-down, drag-out fight in the parking lot. And I realized what kind of vermin we had become.
“I have written a letter to Jeremy Ackroyd with all the details, covering many years, and asked him to contact our new sheriff. I did tell the others I was doing this, and hoped that the file with Jeremy would be enough to deter them from doing harm to me. That would certainly open the biggest can of worms. But, if not, I am leaving this for you and hope you will know I am permanently in Hell.
“All my love,
“Bill”
Micki was sure she was going to faint. All the blood had left her head, and she felt colder than ice. Alex held the letter out to Jason, but he shook his head.
“What the hell are we supposed to do?” Jason asked in a hushed voice.
“The first thing is to get the doctor for your mother.” He looked at Dana. “She’s barely hanging on here.” Then he pulled Micki in close to him. “I think you should lie down, too, honey.”
Micki was unable to move. She sat like a statue, so cold even a freezer would warm her up. She clung to Alex as if she’d never let him go. She barely heard him murmuring to Jason, then he lifted her in his arms and carried her up the stairs.
“I can’t go into that room,” she told him through stiff lips. “Ever again.”
She heard Jason say something about one of the guest rooms, and the next thing she knew, Alex was removing her shoes and jeans, and sliding her beneath a soft quilt. Pulling it up to her chin. Kissing her forehead and her cheeks. She felt as if it was all happening to someone else, that she was dreaming, and when she woke up it would all have been her imagination.
“Here, honey.” Alex helped her sit up. “Take this. It’s one of your mom’s sleeping pills.”
Sleeping pill. Yes. She wanted to sleep forever. And just like that, she slid into blackness.
Chapter 8
Alex was certainly familiar with the phrase nine days’ wonder, but nine days had come and gone, and the shock and fallout from the revelations and arrests was still cascading and showed no signs of letting up any time soon. He and his staff had done their best to keep things under wraps, but, as always, someone leaked the information, and the regional and national media descended like a plague of locusts. It was now necessary to keep all the exterior doors to the sheriff’s office locked at all time, and deputies took turns chauffeuring Helene back and forth to work.
The first thing Alex had done was make sure that Jason was on top of things with his mother and sister and the ranch was secure. He’d spoken with Hank Patterson, and there were now four armed guards on the premises at all times, as well as a new, sophisticated security system. Then he opened a full investigation into the remaining men. His detectives were so appalled at what had been uncovered that they were willing to work on their own time to collect evidence and nail the men they kept referring to as the filth of the earth.
Alex met at great length with the county attorney, filling him in as each piece of information came into place, until they felt they had enough to swear out warrants for the four men. The process was meticulous and time-consuming and painstaking, but they were finally able to trace the cyanide to Jim Northrup and Adam Hoffman. The county attorney took the warrants for all four men to a judge for signature, and Alex divided his people into four teams so the arrests could be made simultaneously.
They had kept track of each of the men and the warrants were executed when they knew all four men were at home. It was pandemonium when they were brought in, with a lot of self-righteous yelling and screaming following. There was also much threatening of punitive law suits against the sheriff and his deputies, and a phalanx of highly expensive criminal attorneys doing their best to throw their weight around, but Alex was having none of it. These men were the vilest of the vile, and he didn’t care if they owned the entire state of Montana. They were done.
The arraignment and bail hearing was a three-ring circus, even with the press barred from it. Alex had asked the governor to send state police troopers, also, because he expected pandemonium, and without them he would have had it. Doug Merensky, the county attorney, also called the governor to arrange for a judge who was not part of the inner circle of the four accused. As a result, all four defendants were denied bail on multiple charges of rape. The yelling and screaming got even louder.
On a daily basis, at least two victims walked into Alex’s office, some with their parents, some with friends, to add their names to the list. The threat of reprisal was gone and these women—some of them still young girls—wanted justice. He worked long hours, fueled by gallons of coffee, but no matter how late it was, he always stopped by the Schroeder ranch to see Micki.
The first week after what Alex thought of as The Revelation, Micki was a zombie. Alex stopped by each night to see her, and she was always in bed, pale as a ghost and with uncontrolled terror in her eyes. At first she did nothing. More than lie in bed, unmoving, silent, a ghost in human skin. But Alex would ease himself down beside her, even as she lay stiff as a board, talk softly to her, tell her what was going on, even if he had to repeat himself ten times.
“She barely eats,” Jason told him. “I at least force water on her so she is hydrated.” He rubbed his head. “Listen. I’ve got my hands full with my mother, who is under a complete doctor’s care. I wanted to get my aunt to come stay with her, but she is so ashamed of the whole situation, she won’t have anyone here.”
“It’s not her fault,” Alex pointed out.
Jason shrugged. “I don’t think that matters. It’s okay. I’m good. I do technology consulting, which I can do from anywhere, and I have a great office staff. But I don’t know what to do with Micki. The story is on the national news, and her boss called. Said he removed her from the assignment roster, and she should take as much time as she needs. You coming by here every night is so good for her, even if you don’t realize it.”
“It’s okay. I plan to keep coming.”
By the end of the week, Micki was slightly more responsive and clinging to him whenever he started to leave. At Jason’s urging, Alex packed a bag and moved into the Schroeder house, sleeping at night with Micki in his arms, holding her when the nightmares hi
t, soothing her, and wishing he could kill all five assholes himself, even her father who was already dead.
Jenna Donovan and her fiancé, Scot Nolan, sat down with Alex for a very long session, during which she shared every piece of information she had gathered. She had even persuaded some of the other victims to talk to him.
With a court order, Alex was able to get DNA samples from Frank Harding, Jim Northrup, Adam Hoffman, and Drake Brandt, and make a comparison to the DNA on Holly Martino’s panties. The unlucky winner this time was Jim Northrup, and charges of statutory rape against him were added to murder. It was a complicated mess, with all four men screaming conspiracy. And trying to blame everything on Bill Schroeder, claiming he made up the story to take suspicion away from him.
Since there was no way to prove which man had raped which girl, the county district attorney decided to charge all of them with every incident.
“We’ll sort it out at trial,” he told Alex. “Be sure you keep meticulous notes on everything.”
Alex interviewed the wife of each of the men involved, not an easy task. They were all stunned, sickened, and fighting to cope with the revelations. They refused to talk to anyone and, as fast as they could, packed up and left town. Alex insisted on knowing where they were, in case he had to contact them again, but he didn’t share the information with anyone. The entire state seemed to have turned on them, convinced they should have known what was going on all these years.
Dana Schroeder was the only one who hadn’t left, hiding in her room and barely eating or sleeping. Jason kept Alex in the loop and told him that he’d called the doctor to come out twice but neither of them had made any headway. She was simply wasting away before his eyes.
While he felt sorry for all the wives, because of Micki, Alex’s interest was more intense where Dana Schroeder was concerned. At the end of the second week, he drove out to the Schroeder ranch and told Jason he needed to take charge and make some decisions. This wasn’t going to disappear. With the succession of trials, they were in for a long haul, and it wasn’t healthy for his mother to stay here.
“Get your mother and bring her to the living room,” he told the other man. When Jason opened his mouth to protest, he added, “She can’t stay in that bed forever. We have to make plans, and now is the time.”
Getting Micki out of the bedroom was easier than he expected, even though she clung to him like a barnacle on a ship. Dana was already seated on the couch, Jason sitting next to her. She was paler than a ghost. Dark circles ringed her eyes, and she looked as if she’d lost weight. Her fingers were knotted together in her lap.
“We need to make some changes,” Alex began. “If you think it’s bad now, as we move toward trial, it’s only going to get worse.”
“I haven’t had the television on,” Dana said in a voice that was far from steady. “I can’t bear to watch.” She looked over at her daughter, and tears filled her eyes. “Micki, I am so, so sorry. I wish—”
Micki cut her off. “You didn’t know, and I was too terrified to say anything.” She let out a shaky breath. “Lying in bed this week, one thing became abundantly clear to me. We have to move on.”
“But how?” Dana cried. “How do we ever put this behind us?”
“The first thing you have to do, Mrs. Schroeder, is get yourself out of here. I understand your sister has called every day. Sometimes twice a day. She’s insisting you come out and stay with her until this fades to a manageable situation. Do it. Pack today. Jason can make all the arrangements.”
“But—” She looked down in her lap. “I’m so ashamed. I don’t know how to face her.”
Alex shook his head. “No buts. The media presence is only going to get worse, especially as the trials progress.”
“Trials?” Micki interrupted. “Aren’t they all being tried together?”
“No. The district attorney believes—and so do I—that to give this situation the proper wide exposure it needs, each of the four men should be tried individually, and that despite the fact that Jeff Bartels did most of the killing, they should also be charged with murder.”
“You’re looking at months and months of trials,” Jason pointed out.
Alex nodded. “Exactly. Hopefully, when all is said and done, rich and arrogant and privileged men will get the message that those things don’t give them permission to do what they did.”
“And, Mom?” Jason went on. “Aunt Felicia knows. None of this is your fault. She—”
“But I keep thinking somehow I should have known something. Sensed something.”
Alex shook his head. “There’s no way you could have known. These men have been doing this since college and were masters at concealing everything. Please don’t blame yourself in any way.”
“But others will,” she protested.
“And it will be the responsibility of my office to make them understand they’re wrong. It may take a while, but we’ll get it done. In the meantime, you’ll be a lot better off out of the war zone.
Dana nibbled on her lower lip, a habit Alex noted she shared with Micki.
“You should do it, Mom,” Micki urged. “You have a foreman who really runs the ranch, anyway, and you need to get the hell out of here.”
“But what about you?” Dana cried.
Alex tightened his arm around her. “Micki will be fine. She’ll be staying at my house, and when I’m not with her, one of the Brotherhood Protectors will be.”
She looked at him. “I am? They will?”
He nodded. “And we’re going to talk about what happens next with us.” And Jesus! He hoped to hell they would be on the same path.”
After that, he was impressed at how quickly everything happened. Micki helped her mother pack up while she filled suitcases with her own things she’d need at Alex’s. Jason arranged for a private plane charter, drove his mother to the airport and made sure she got off to her sister’s okay.
“I’m still hanging around,” he told Alex. “I know you have Brotherhood Protectors securing the ranch, and our foreman is second to none. That’s not it. Like I said, I can work from anywhere, and I am damn curious to see what these fucking assholes have to say in court, and even leading up to their trials.”
“It could be a long time,” Alex reminded him.
“No sweat. I could use some time hanging out here, anyway. And maybe I’ll get to spend time with my sister.” Pain flare for a moment in his eyes. “I never sensed anything was wrong, so I have a lot to make up for in that area.”
“I don’t think Micki sees it that way.”
“All the more reason to do it.”
Alex’s days continued to be busier than he’d ever expected, preparing for the trials and still policing the county. The best part of the day, though, was coming home to Micki. He was glad that nothing that happened drove a wedge between them or damaged their growing physical relationship. He’d worried that despite that one time being so out of this world, the reality of everything including her father’s participation might throw cold water on it, so he proceeded with great caution. But Micki, thank the lord, seemed to want and need him more than ever, despite the depression about her father.
And being able to come home to her at night made everything worthwhile.
Micki checked the stew in the slow cooker, added a pinch of seasoning, and turned the heat back to warm. Alex had been getting home about seven-thirty every night, mentally and physically drained, and she’d gotten into the habit of cooking comfort food for them. She’d gotten into a lot of habits, as a matter of fact. Like sleeping with Alex curled around her, sitting quietly on the deck enjoying sunsets. Arguing over which programs to watch.
And sex. Hot, erotic, drive-you-crazy sex, something she’d never thought she’d ever get to a point where she enjoyed it. But since that first time, Alex was incredibly patient with her, teaching her exactly how good it could be. Holding her and soothing her whenever she had flashbacks and her entire body froze. Or when a nightmare invaded her drea
ms. As a result, she’d gotten bolder and more aggressive until sometimes she wondered if she’d ever get enough of him.
She’d even, after a while, gotten used to her watchdogs from Brotherhood Protectors. And, of course, spending time with Jason and really getting to know her brother after all this time. Her life had taken on a new look, and she wasn’t sure it was all that bad. Whoever said something good always comes out of the bad sure knew what he was talking about.
The trial dates were finally set, despite the best efforts of the defense attorneys to delay them. They filed motion after motion to delay, and the best they were able to accomplish was to have them take place simultaneously. The governor had listened to Doug Merensky’s plea to send some attorneys to lead the teams in the other trials, and the state attorney’s office had complied. The trials were set to begin in three days, on Monday.
Her mother was doing so well at her sister’s that she’d decided to look for a place there.
“I never want to set foot in that ranch house again,” she told Micki during their last phone call. “Are you okay with that?”
“More than.” She was, in fact, relieved. “Jason said you talked to him about selling it.”
“Are you okay with that?”
“Are you kidding? After what happened to me there?”
“It’ll fetch a good price and give each of you kids a nice nest egg. So, if you’re okay, I’ll tell Jason to find an agent and get things started.”
Another milestone in her life crossed.
Micki had taken a leave of absence from her job, with the full support of her boss. But today, after spending time with Jason at the ranch, she’d come to a decision. She hoped Alex would understand and be as happy as she was.
“This is a big step for me,” she told Jason on the phone. “I hope he’s as happy with it as I am.”
“I’m pretty sure he will be,” he assured her.
“Oh, I hear him pulling up outside. Gotta go. Call you later.”