Ivy narrowed her eyes. The woman was unbelievably optimistic given the amount of sweaty and annoying people surrounding them. “Yes … well … thank you.” Ivy flicked her eyes to the front of the store in an effort to ignore the woman standing behind her. She let her eyes drift to the automatic doors. They opened and closed at almost constant intervals and Ivy realized two figures remained on either side, flanking the opening no matter how many times the doors slid open and closed.
She stared for a long time, her eyes finally focusing. That’s when she realized she recognized the men. Not only did she recognize them, but they also clearly recognized her because they stared intently in her direction. They didn’t even bother to hide it.
“Oh, crap.” Ivy dug into her pocket to find her phone, her hand shaking as she retrieved it. She punched Jack’s number in quickly and pressed the phone to her ear. “Crap, crap, crap.”
JACK AND BRIAN sat in their chairs, shoulder to shoulder, and stared at the computer monitor as Corbin Dancy was shown into the small interrogation room. Crawford sat across from the shackled man, his expression impassive, and he inclined his head toward the corner of the room so the uniformed officer would take up position there once Corbin was settled.
“We have a lot to talk about, Mr. Dancy,” Crawford said. “For the record, Detectives Jack Harker and Brian Nixon will be participating in this interview through Skype.”
Corbin flicked his eyes to the camera. “And what if I don’t want that?”
“I think what my client is asking is whether or not that is necessary.” A middle-aged man with gray hair sat on Corbin’s right and fixed Crawford with a serious look. “As his attorney, I’m curious for an answer to that question myself.”
“This is Alex Stevens,” Crawford offered. “He’s Mr. Dancy’s legal counsel.”
“We figured that out ourselves,” Jack said.
“As for why they’re involved in this interview via Skype, it’s necessary,” Crawford said. “Mr. Dancy is wanted in connection with a second murder in Shadow Lake.”
“A second murder?” Stevens’ eyebrow winged up. “I was under the impression that only one person died at the mall on the date in question.”
“Yes, but we’re talking about Norman Fell,” Brian said. “He was Corbin’s employer at the tree lot on the highway. Norman was shot in the back of the head and then set on fire in an effort to hide the forensic evidence.”
“I see. Well … .” Stevens cast a look in Corbin’s direction. It was hard to gauge, but if Jack was reading it correctly, Corbin clearly hadn’t told his attorney exactly what he was facing.
“We have some questions,” Crawford said. “The ballistics reports won’t be in until the day after Christmas at the earliest. We have confirmed that the jewelry found in your home was taken the day of the robbery at the mall.”
“That was planted,” Corbin snapped, his cheeks flushing with color. “The cops – this cop, in fact – planted the jewelry because they wanted to frame me.”
Crawford snorted. Every cop hears that on occasion. He was expecting it. “I doubt very much a judge and jury are going to believe that. It doesn’t matter, though. We also have proof of meth cooking.”
“That was done before we lived there!”
“You’ve had that house for four years,” Crawford pointed out. “What else have you got?”
“I recommend not answering that question,” Stevens offered.
“Yes, I think that’s probably a good idea,” Crawford intoned. “Detectives Harker and Nixon have a whole new set of questions to ask you. I think we’re all anxious to get started.”
“Definitely,” Jack agreed.
“Let’s do it.” Crawford bobbed his head in Jack’s direction. “Good luck.”
Jack didn’t waste any time before diving in. “Tell me about Ricky Hughes.”
Whatever he was expecting, that wasn’t it. Corbin jolted, surprised. “What about him? He’s a co-worker.”
“I think he’s more than that,” Jack said. “I think he’s part of your group.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Corbin stared forward, unblinking. “I don’t have a group.”
“You know it’s better for you if you do have a group, right?” Crawford pressed. “That means that the first person who rolls over on the others is the one who gets the best deal.”
Corbin remained unmoving except for a brief flexing of his fingers. “I don’t have a group.”
“Well, let me tell you what we’re dealing with here in Shadow Lake,” Jack suggested. He’d been conducting interrogations for a long time, but this was the first instance where he’d done it via video link. It was different than being in a room with the suspect. “We know that Norman Fell was shot in the back of the head. We know that his safe was cleaned out, and we’re pretty sure at least some of the money from that safe was found in your house.
“We already talked to Detective Crawford and he’s running fingerprints on the money,” he continued. “We will follow those fingerprints and ask the people we uncover if they spent money at the tree lot. That will be enough to lock you into the theft at the tree lot.
“We also know that Ricky Hughes has been following the woman who talked to Dorian Jackson at the mall before he died,” Jack said, keeping his face even despite the fact that he was uttering gross exaggerations. “We’ve got proof that he’s been watching her and that’s enough to add stalking into the mix.”
“You mean Ivy Morgan?” Corbin arched a diabolical eyebrow as he turned to the camera for the first time. “That’s the woman you’re living with, right?”
Jack didn’t so much as flinch. “That’s my future wife.”
“Is that supposed to impress me?” Corbin bordered on antagonistic, but Jack recognized it as the last stand of a man who was about to break.
“That’s supposed to frighten you,” Jack replied. “That means I will do whatever it takes to keep her safe.”
“If you want to keep her safe, you should’ve told her to stay out of other people’s business,” Corbin snapped. “This all happened because of her.”
“No, this all happened because she went to the mall with her mother – a trip she didn’t even want to make – and accidentally crossed paths with your group.” Jack kept his tone clipped. “She’s not to blame here. You are. You’re the one who acted like an idiot. You’re the one who sent Ricky Hughes to do a bad tail job on a woman who recognizes danger when she sees it. You’re the one who roped in a simple man to help you rob a mall and then shot him in the back.”
Jack’s diatribe was enough to infuriate Corbin. “Is that what you think?” he spat, outrage bubbling up. “Do you think I did all of that?”
“I was referring to the general you. If you’re uncomfortable shouldering all the burden, you can tell me who did what and we’ll assign blame as we see fit.”
Corbin snorted, shaking his head. “Fine. What’s my deal?”
“Mr. Dancy, we need to talk about this,” Stevens interjected, his voice low but serious. “You shouldn’t agree to anything until … .”
“Shut up,” Corbin barked. “I’m in charge now. I want to know what my deal is.”
“If you give us the information we’re looking for, we’ll recommend fifteen years and you’ll be out in ten,” Crawford replied.
“I want to walk completely.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Crawford stressed. “Two people are dead. People were terrorized. If you want to take that stance, you can get life without the possibility of parole like everyone else. Keep in mind, though, we’ll only be offering this deal until one of you takes it. First come, first serve.”
Corbin pressed his lips together and stared at the table, finally heaving out a sigh and raising his head. “Fine. What do you want to know?”
“Everything,” Crawford replied. “Start at the beginning.”
“I’m not sure how interesting the story will be,” Corbin replied. “It’
s not a big deal, really. Mitchell and I grew up together in the same foster home. We came to think of each other as brothers. We got into trouble a little bit as teenagers – nothing big – until we ended up in juvie with Matt.”
“Matt Bloom?” Jack asked.
Corbin nodded. “He was always looking for the next big score. He didn’t care about staying out of trouble. Each time he got in trouble he quietly served his time and then decided to try something even bigger the next go around.
“Mitchell went to Jackson for a two-year stint and I basically did odd jobs at a variety of places while he was locked down,” he continued. “I took jobs for cash mostly because I didn’t want to pay taxes. That’s how I got hooked up with Norman last year.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Brian mused. “That’s how Norman got so many workers with records.”
Corbin bobbed his head. “Exactly. Mitchell got out and I got him in at the tree lot at the exact right time. A lot of us worked together – Ricky, Matt, Mitchell, and me – until Dorian came in. He changed things a bit for us.”
“When you say ‘worked together,’ do you mean doing jobs?” Crawford asked.
“It was petty stuff,” Corbin offered. “We stole some copper wiring from abandoned buildings, chopped the occasional car. It honestly wasn’t a big deal until Ricky hit on robbing businesses right before Christmas. He thought they would be fat with cash and it would be easy to handle.
“The plan was to only do one business in each town,” he continued. “That means the cops would let the investigation slide because other things would pop up, bigger things.”
“Did Norman know you were doing this?” Brian asked.
“No, he had no idea. He didn’t even see it coming when Ricky shot him in the back of the head.”
“So why do it?”
“Because we saw how much money he had in that safe and we wanted it,” Corbin replied. “After the mall job went south … well … we all wanted as much money as possible. We thought we might have to run.”
“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” Brian said. “What happened at the mall?”
“Oh, geez, you guys are so behind.” Corbin pinched the bridge of his nose as he regrouped. “Okay, the thing is, we didn’t want to invite Dorian to join the group because we knew he was a bit square. We didn’t have a choice, though, because Ricky’s girlfriend insisted.”
“And who is Ricky’s girlfriend?” Brian asked.
Jack instinctively knew the answer, although he had no idea how. “Mary Jackson.”
“Very good.” Corbin mimed clapping with his shackled hands. “Ricky and Mary dated in high school. She threw him over for Dorian about three years ago because Dorian was going through a divorce and Mary figured she would have a better life with Dorian. She never stopped sleeping with Ricky, though.”
“Kids,” Jack gritted out. “Dorian Jackson had kids. Were they with Mary?”
“No, they were with the ex-wife,” Corbin replied. “Mary was upset because Dorian had to spend so much money on support for his ex-wife and kids. She didn’t get nearly the windfall she thought. That’s when she hooked back up with Ricky and he suggested Dorian pick up moonlighting shifts at the tree lot.”
“Did Dorian know about Ricky and Mary?”
“I don’t think so. I didn’t know Dorian very well, though. You would have to ask him.”
“He knew Mitchell well enough to identify him as his shooter,” Jack argued, taking a chance.
“Yeah, well, Mitchell always was a suck shot,” Corbin groused. “He’s the one who fouled all this up.”
“How?”
“I always knew it was a bad idea to invite Dorian to join us,” Corbin said. “Ricky insisted. It wasn’t until after the fact that I realized he had a plan to make sure Dorian was the fall guy if we got caught.”
“That would allow him to take Mary and the money and run,” Brian said. “Dorian found out, didn’t he?”
Corbin nodded. “Mitchell said Dorian figured it out when they were in the mall. Dorian wanted to stop … he wanted to run. He didn’t want to be there in the first place. He was only doing it to shut Mary up. He didn’t want another divorce under his belt and thought he could save the marriage. He had no idea that wasn’t ever possible, or what kind of woman Mary really was.”
“So you all worked together, but Ricky had plans for himself,” Jack said. “Did it ever occur to you that Ricky planned on taking out more of you than just Dorian?”
“Of course. I’m not an idiot.” Corbin pursed his lips. “Ricky is nuts. He’s always been nuts.”
“He’s also not an idiot,” Jack argued. “He had to know when you were taken into custody that you would roll over on him.”
“Hey. Those are the breaks.”
“Right,” Jack intoned, shifting in his chair. “So why would Matt Bloom be at Mary Jackson’s house today?”
Corbin shrugged. “I have no idea. I would’ve thought Ricky and Mary would’ve already run.”
“Maybe they’re trying to get their hands on more money,” Crawford suggested.
“That’s certainly possible,” Jack said, his stomach twisting. Something felt off. “Why has Ricky been following Ivy?”
“Because Ricky is convinced that Dorian told her more than a name,” Corbin replied. “He probably wants to kill her before running. That was his goal last time I saw him.”
Jack briefly pressed his eyes shut. “Son of a … .”
“She’s fine,” Brian said, keeping his voice low. “You talked to her an hour ago.”
“I know but … .” As if on cue, Jack’s phone rang. He instinctively reached for it and almost sighed with relief when he recognized Ivy’s number. His relief disappeared the second Ivy started talking.
“I’m coming, honey,” Jack said, hopping to his feet the second she was done speaking. “I’m coming for you right now. Hold on … and don’t leave that store!”
“I have no intention of leaving this store,” Ivy said. “The problem is, I don’t think that’s going to stop them from coming after me. They’re staring at me right now.”
“Just … hold on. I’m coming right now.”
Twenty-Two
Ivy knew she was in a treacherous situation. Figuring the best way out of that situation – a way that didn’t end with a massacre at a supermarket on Christmas Eve – was her top priority. Other than calling Jack and refraining from crying, though, all she’d managed to do was move one spot closer in the line.
The woman standing behind Ivy remained oblivious to Ivy’s growing panic despite the fact that Ivy had begun tapping her short fingernails on the shopping cart handle. The woman in front of Ivy was another story. She kept turning around and glaring.
“Don’t look at me that way,” Ivy muttered.
“Then stop making that noise.”
That sounded like a wonderful idea to Ivy and yet she couldn’t settle. If she stayed in line long enough for one more person to ring through she would be trapped by the candy displays on one side and the belted counter on the other. If she wanted to remain mobile, she would have to get out of line now. Of course, that would draw attention to her … and cause her to have to wait in line all over again … but she didn’t really have an option.
Ivy made her decision on the spot and wheeled her cart out of line. The woman behind her arched an eyebrow. “Do you want me to save your spot?”
“Oh, no thanks,” Ivy said, forcing a smile. “I forgot something.”
“I can hold your spot for you.”
“I think it’s probably going to take longer than that.” Ivy cast a worried look over her shoulder, meeting Ricky Hughes’ predatory gaze and then scurrying down an aisle. She abandoned her cart by one of the end caps – hoping against hope that no one would move it so she had to start all over again once Jack saved the day – and sidestepped a harried-looking woman screaming at two teenagers as she popped up in the meat aisle.
Ivy didn’t have a lot of op
tions and she knew it. The front door was a bust. Even if Ricky and Matt abandoned it completely, unless they were complete idiots – which was entirely possible – they would find some way to watch it. Ivy’s best shot was to lose them in the store, but if they caught her in an aisle they would be able to use the other customers against her. That really only left one option.
Ivy took a bit of time to look over the immediate area, looking down both adjacent aisles and the wide expanse where she stood, and then she sucked in a breath before plunging through the double doors that led to the area behind the meat counter.
Ivy expected to find herself in a preparation area … perhaps a place packed with refrigerators to keep meat cold before cutting it and doling it out to be weighed. Instead she realized she was in a dry goods storage area – fifteen-foot shelves stretching to the ceiling, the floor littered with unpacked boxes – and she understood just how bad a turn she made. The room was dark … and drab … and cut off from the rest of the customers.
“You’re realizing you made a mistake, aren’t you?”
Ivy recognized the voice, but it was a surprise all the same. She turned slowly, her expression calmer than her stomach as she locked gazes with Mary Jackson.
“I didn’t see you with Ricky and Matt,” Ivy admitted, seeing no reason to play coy.
“Yes, well, I couldn’t leave them to screw things up again, could I?” Mary flashed a demented smile as Ivy took a step farther into the storage room. “They’ve completely fouled this whole thing up.”
Ivy couldn’t wrap her mind around what was happening. “You were lying from the beginning.”
“Oh, don’t look so sad.” Mary made a tsking sound with her tongue. “You weren’t supposed to figure any of it out. That’s on them, though.”
“So … what? You’re going to kill me in a grocery store full of people?”
“That’s not my plan, no,” Mary replied. “I don’t want to create a scene. In fact, I was in favor of letting you be. I figured you were being truthful when you told me the only thing Dorian said while dying was Mitchell’s name. However, Ricky doesn’t believe that and he refuses to just let things go. He’s always been like that.”
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