“Would you please stop calling me that? My name is Madison,” I said in as polite a tone as possible.
He considered me before he nodded. “Madison. I’m not convinced that Manuel and CJ were killed by the same person who killed Emma Gregory.”
I gaped at him, my mouth working silently before words would come out. “I saw the sparkles in the marks on their necks. That’s not something which seems normal to me.”
He shot me a pinched expression as he scrubbed his hands over his face. “You’re right. That’s not normal. It’s also not normal for an eighteen-year-old girl to be telling me how to do my job.”
I raised my hands in a surrendering gesture, waiting to hear if he’d tell me anything else at all.
He went on in what he was saying, a scowl plastered on his face. “I looked into Emma’s case when you were here last and you were right. There were ligature marks around Emma’s neck that did not match the rope she was hanged with.” He shook his head before I could ask him any questions. “Another medical examiner was brought in to look over all three cases. She believes that Manuel and CJ’s bodies weren’t staged as Emma’s was. Their necks were broken where that wasn’t the case with your friend.”
“Maybe he just pulled harder or something.”
He shook his head. “The three deaths look very similar but they’re not.”
A shutter passed over me. “If you have a new ME looking into old cases, that’s creating a lot of other problems, isn’t it?” I asked, worried by the idea of it.
Bukowski rubbed wearily at his eyes again. “The ME has already been called in for questioning and because of that, appeals are being opened in every case that he worked as medical examiner for. That’s almost thirty years of cases. If he is incompetent, that’s one thing. If he’s taking bribes as you’ve suggested, that opens a whole other can of worms. Criminals will be set free because of this. If Dylan Funar truly did murder your friend, threatened Adrian’s life, and paid the medical examiner to keep quiet about whatever his findings were, he is not the typical kind of criminal we encounter. People often act without weighing the consequences. What Dylan allegedly did shows the kind of things he is willing to do to keep from paying for his crimes. We’ll bring him in but he was right in his threat to Adrian. It’s going to be hard to make any of this stick without a reliable witness.”
And my heart sank. It was like he’d told me Dylan would get away with what he’d done. I had to make sure that didn’t happen. I also had to make sure Ian knew the truth. He had to be safe. That was all there was to it.
A shiver passed up my spine as I walked out of the police station. I felt hollow, vacant, alone. However Adrian had survived with that information inside her for so long, I had no idea. I felt like my heart and brain might pop under the pressure of it all.
I wanted to rush into the police station and demand that everything be as it was supposed to be. Murderers did not deserve to get away with those crimes. Dylan was a murderer. He had to be stopped.
My mind sorted and sifted its way through various plans until one solidified in my mind. It wouldn’t be admissible in court. It might be enough to get Dylan off the street for a while.
I got into my car and took out my phone, rolling my eyes at how easy it was to hack into Dylan’s phone. It was embarrassing. He should have gotten at least one new password in the last few years. The fact he didn’t kind of made me want to smack him.
No. That was far too friendly a move. He was not my friend. He never had been. He had been a con artist, playing a role.
I nodded to myself as I set it up to call the cops if he said ‘Emma’. It took me a little longer to get into Ian’s phone. He had at least changed his passwords. They were still far too easy to get around.
I began driving to my house, fear alive and well inside me. Who did the cops believe had killed Manuel and CJ? I glanced at my phone again, tempted to find out for myself.
No. That was a bad idea. Bukowski had already indicated that he knew I had hacked into the police files. It must have been a guess since my online activity was obscured through the algorithm I had written. Either that or the police had someone far smarter than me tracking my activity.
I grimaced at that thought. Maybe I had gotten lazy. I’d have to look over my system and double-check everything was secure.
It was a relief as I pulled into my driveway, to find Imogen, Serena, and several of their friends walking in, ready for an afternoon of fun. They were there. They were safe. If only Ian was there as well.
My stomach clenched at that thought. Ian. In one day, he had seen the way his sister had died and found out that his best friend was the one who had done it. He had a right to be more than a little messed up because of it.
I turned my head down as I walked into the house, nervous at the idea of seeing my wonderfully untarnished friends. It was like me and the horrors in my life would make them unclean if I looked any of them in the eye.
My phone beeped as I closed the door behind myself. I pulled it out . . . and my world fell apart. It was the security app on Ian’s phone. Something had happened. Ian was in danger.
TWENTY-FOUR
My breaths came out in short, shallow gasps as I clutched at my throat. Ian. Not Ian. Not when he had felt as though I had betrayed him. Not when I hadn’t told him how special he had become to me.
Somebody rushed over to me although I didn’t look up. My eyes were fixed on my phone. What had happened?
“Madison,” a guy’s voice said from my side and a hand guided me over to the steps. “Whatever you’re planning, don’t do it. It’s not safe.”
I blinked and turned my eyes up. It was Spencer. Adrian had told me her brother always knew when people were going to die. It seemed my time had come.
I took in a deep breath, counted to three, and let it out. I had to make sure Ian was safe. He was all that mattered. He had to be okay.
I squared my shoulders and rose, running my hand through my hair. “Your sister saw what really happened to Emma. She said you tried to save her.” I held out my hand between us. “Thank you so much for even trying.”
He gaped at me. “Adrian saw what?” he asked, wrapping his hand around mine in a way that felt like he planned to hold me in place.
“Dylan murdered Emma and made it look like she’d killed herself. Ian is in danger. Considering the fact he’s Ian and he’s been through a lot today, I’d guess he went to talk to Dylan.”
Spencer’s brow furrowed, his hand still wrapped around mine. “Madison, you are in danger. YOU. Whatever you’re planning, it’s not going to turn out like you want.”
I pulled my hand away and turned toward the door. “Adrian told the cops what she knew. I’d guess her life is about to get a lot thornier than it has been so far. Be a brother, Spencer. I think she needs you.”
I rushed out of the house before anybody could call me back, my eyes fixed on the map on my phone. What was he doing? Ian’s phone was in mine and Emma’s spot in the woods.
I pulled up Dylan’s info and my heart sank. He was there as well. A chill moved its way over me. A foreboding. Whatever was happening, Ian was in danger. At a guess, I’d say Adrian was too.
I brought up Adrian’s information and began my search. I didn’t know any of her passwords. Getting around them was almost as easy as typing them in, though.
In less than a minute I had turned on the tracker for Adrian’s phone. God, save us. Adrian was in the same place.
Before the thought had fully registered in my mind, I dialed the number. I hadn’t thought I’d ever call him. I got into my car and turned it on but didn’t pull out. I needed a plan. I couldn’t waltz my way in without some idea of how to get all of us out.
“Erkens,” his voice barked out of the phone.
I closed my eyes and said a little prayer of relief. “This is Madison Meyer. I know who killed Emma. I think her spirit has turned into a woman in white. The guy who killed her has Ian, though. He took Ian and th
e only witness who can tell the cops what he did. Please. I need your help.”
Erkens growled like the bulldog I always envisioned him as. “Do not go looking for them,” he ordered.
“I have to. Ian is important to me and Adrian has been through too much. She needs someone to stand up for her. That’s going to be me.”
He huffed out an exasperated breath. “Are you armed?” he asked sharply.
I opened my mouth to answer when the passenger side door of my car opened and Spencer got in. I waved him out, though he simply buckled his seatbelt and waited.
I leaned forward to rest my brow on the steering wheel. “No, Erkens. I’m not armed. What I have is an app on Dylan’s phone that’s set up to call 9-1-1 if he says ‘Emma’. If the dispatcher does their job, whatever he says will be recorded.”
“I’m guessing you haven’t called 9-1-1 in a while.”
I made a face and turned the phone to speaker before backing out of the driveway.
Before I could confirm or deny what he’d said, Erkens went on. “Call Bukowski. Tell him what happened. Tell him where you’re going and whatever you do, do not tell him I’m with you.”
“With me?” I asked, glancing around as though expecting to find him in the back seat.
“You’ve got a busted tail light, kid. That can get you ticketed.”
I glanced in my rearview mirror, seeing a big, black pickup truck on my tail. It looked tough as nails, much like its owner. It was weird that he was there. It was also a comfort. We had a fighting chance.
“Please tell me you have a plan,” I pleaded, rubbing wearily at my brow.
Erkens harrumphed. “Yes, Madison. I have the plan to make sure your girl in white doesn’t kill anybody else and hopefully get you dumb kids out of there before any other lives are lost.”
My eyes went so wide, it made them burn. “Lives are lost? No. No. No. It can’t be Emma. She’s just a ghost, trying to show us what happened to her,” I squeaked out, my heart pounding out a ragged rhythm.
“A woman in white isn’t a benevolent spirit, Madison. Your friend is dead. The thing that is left in this world is a monster.”
“No.” I shook my head adamantly, determined to convince all three of us it wasn’t true. “It IS Emma. Emma wouldn’t hurt anybody. She used to get mad at me if I’d kill flies. Whatever is going on, Dylan is the one who killed Manuel and CJ.” Before he could argue with me, I hung up.
I gripped the wheel tight, my heart still pounding. Erkens was wrong. It was still Emma. She had remembered me. She had tried to tell me what had happened to her.
Spencer swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath. “Are you going to call that cop?” he asked in a quiet tone, his eyes flicking over his shoulder to where Erkens’ truck still loomed over us.
I didn’t answer. I dialed the number, again putting the phone on speaker. It rang five times before it clicked over to voicemail.
“This is Detective Bukowski. Leave me a message.”
“This is Madison Meyer. Dylan took Ian and Adrian out to the place in the woods where he killed Emma. I’m going out there now. It’s about a mile and a half from the Gregory’s house if you follow the stream. Please help me save them.”
By the time I’d hung up, my breaths were coming out in shallow gasps. I could not allow Dylan to do anything to Ian. His parents had lost enough. I had lost enough.
If he wanted nothing to do with me, I would learn to live with that. So long as he was alive, I could live with anything. A world without Ian Gregory was not a world I wanted to live in.
“How do you know Funar has my sister?” Spencer cut in on my thought process.
I glanced at him, having forgotten that he didn’t know. I told him everything she had told me that day and told him that his sister’s phone was in the same place as Ian and Dylan’s.
He looked as shell-shocked as I felt. His chartreuse eyes turned down in what looked like genuine grief. “All this time and I never asked. I just assumed she was the worthless addict Dad always called her,” he breathed as he rubbed at his knuckles. “After everything the man put me through and I didn’t even question him about Adrian.”
I glanced at him, sorrow for his family filling my heart and mind. “Spencer, Adrian told me some of the issues you’ve had. I need to know the truth about you. Are you a witch or something?” I asked, not sure if that would be a good or bad thing.
He grimaced and shook his head. “I don’t know what I am. I’m not a pagan. I don’t do rituals or anything like that. I can . . . do things that make people uncomfortable.”
“Like what?”
“Like see when someone is in danger or when they’re about to die.”
“Okay?” I questioned, waiting to see if there was more.
He didn’t look at me. “I should have done more, said more. I got so used to being told I was evil, I let Emma Gregory leave. A week later, she was dead.”
My stomach clenched, fear taking hold of me. “So . . . you’re telling me I’m going to die tonight?” I asked, doing all in my power not to drive back to the house and hide under my bed. I had to do this, no matter what it cost me.
Spencer looked hard at me before he shook his head. “I don’t know. You’re in serious danger and the death-mark is on your brow. That might mean someone around you will die. It’s not always easy to translate.”
“Death-mark?” I asked in a squeaky voice, my heart pounding so hard it was like it wanted to break its way through my chest and run away.
He made a motion to my face. “Right there. That’s the look people most often wear when they find out I’m not exactly like them,” he said in a weary way, his eyes turned to the front.
I rolled my eyes. “Spencer, you told me I’m probably going to die today. I’m not afraid of you, I’m a little freaked out by the idea of dying.”
He gave a burdened sigh and shook his head adamantly. “You will not die. You’re Imogen’s best friend. I’m going to make sure you’re safe.”
A small snort of laughter bubbled out before I could pull it in. “Yeah, that would make you noticeable,” I teased, suddenly glad that he was there with me.
It wasn’t because of his power. It was all because it proved to me that he was a good man, worthy of Imogen. He felt like a friend and I appreciated that about him.
Both of us almost jumped right out of our seats when my phone beeped. I grabbed for it, the fear inside me having reached new heights. I was terrified.
I clicked the text open and my breaths began to wheeze out. Something was most definitely wrong. That text was from Ian, or at least from his phone.
We need to talk. Meet me at yours and Emma’s spot in the woods, it read.
I handed the phone to Spencer. “Will you please text him back, ask him why?” I gasped. I breathed. I counted to three. It didn’t work. I was about to have a panic attack.
My body shuddered. Sweat popped out on my brow. My heart raced. I hadn’t had a full blown panic attack in more than a year. That was about to change.
No. I couldn’t allow myself to go to pieces. I had to figure out what was going on.
“He’s not answering that. He said ‘We need to talk,’ again.”
“Tell him an hour.”
Spencer raised his brows. “We’re like two minutes from the Gregory’s house,” he said, his eyes going wide. “So we’re sneaking up on them?” he asked as he sent the text I had asked him to send.
I inclined my head, hardly able to breathe at all. I had to get hold of myself. Nut-up, Madison, I told myself over and over. It was what Ian had told me all my life.
I was going to find him. I would make sure he was okay and pray that Bukowski would bring the cavalry. We could do this. We would all be okay. We had to be.
By the time I’d pulled into the spot where Emma and I always hid our bikes, my breaths had evened out. My heart still pounded although there was nothing I could do about that one.
I heard the truck pull in behind me,
so took my phone from Spencer and got out. “Let me have your phone,” I said to both of them.
Spencer handed his over immediately, not looking at Erkens at all. It was like he was as uncomfortable around Erkens as most people were around him. I didn’t know why that would be. I didn’t care much either.
After a moment, I returned them. “Okay, they’re both set up so all you have to do is say my friend’s name and it’ll call 9-1-1. I also set them so all three of us will be able to find the others. My dot is red, Spencer’s dot is green, and Erkens’ dot is black. It’s a GPS app that I changed so no one else can track us other than someone with the same app.” I motioned to the stream that was barely visible through the trees. “I think we need to split up. Just follow the stream and you’ll get to the spot. It’s this really pretty area where two streams converge and make some little rapids.”
Erkens scowled at me. He didn’t argue. He nodded and began to move in that direction. “Be careful,” he said over his shoulder.
Spencer gave me a quizzical look before he too turned to walk into the woods.
I glanced in the direction of the Gregory’s house, my mind full of the memories of all the times we had gone out to that spot in the woods. It was a horribly painful idea to suspect that Dylan had killed Emma in that place we had thought was so magical. It was equally horrible to feel that fear for Ian rise up.
The text hadn’t been from him. I knew that. So why did Dylan want me to come to the place where he had killed Emma? What was his goal?
I took the shortcut through the trees, the path we had taken so many times. Every tree carried memories. Every stone was part of our beautiful fantasy. We had tromped our way through that forest with plans for our futures and joy in our hearts.
My heart fluttered as I saw a bold splotch of red on the ground. That was not supposed to be there. It was like a warning to stop. I wouldn’t. There was blood on the ground. I had to figure out who had been hurt. I had to save them.
It was easy enough to move quietly. The sounds of nature masked the sounds of my feet in the grasses. Everything was lush and green. The only thing to mar its beauty was the blood that speckled the ground.
The Girl In White Page 17