“With him, what, Madison?”
Madison’s heart was racing just thinking about verbalizing her feelings in this regard. As if it would somehow confirm she was a bad person. “I…I felt like he got what he deserved.”
“It’s only natural to feel that way in a situation like this.”
“It’s natural to be fine with someone being violently murdered?” Madison snapped.
Dr. Connor gave no impression Madison’s outburst had even reached her ears. “Did you know your grandfather well?”
Madison shook her head. “He was gone before I was born. Actually, it was because of Bates, the murder victim, that I never met my grandfather.”
“I see.”
The back of Madison’s neck tightened. Two words that said nothing—I see. See what exactly? Was there judgment now? Speculation? Was Dr. Connor wondering if Madison was suited to her job anymore?
“I will still find justice for the man.” Madison had intended to speak with conviction, but her words fell flat. “Get answers.”
“Get answers?” Dr. Connor cocked her head. “About what specifically?”
“Who killed him, of course.”
“I sense that you might already have a suspect in mind.”
Sometimes the way Dr. Connor would read her mind made Madison think the woman was clairvoyant.
Madison swallowed roughly. “I think Constantine murdered Bates.”
Dr. Connor wrote something in her notepad. Madison always found it disconcerting when that happened and tried to figure out what her doctor was thinking. Had Dr. Connor had a revelation as to what prompted the nightmare? Madison couldn’t help but analyze what she’d said, and she did so from as detached a perspective as she could manage. Her best guess was that it had something to do with Bates’s murder and her suspicions that Constantine was behind it.
Madison cleared her throat and went on. “I thought I was going crazy or being paranoid when I saw his body and thought Constantine was his killer, but the evidence—” She stopped. If she came clean about the eyewitness account, she risked Dr. Connor taking action. Patient confidentiality could be waived when lives were believed to be in danger.
Dr. Connor’s expression became one of concern. “Then it is possible he’s back?”
“Possible as in hypothetical, yes.” Admitting it out loud caused all Madison’s self-talk to wash away. It was as if all the speeches she’d given herself since last night to dispel her fears about Constantine still being in town had never happened. Tremors ran through her, and she closed her eyes for a second.
“You should get protection, Madison.”
Madison nodded, suddenly feeling cold. “I’m going to discuss my suspicions with Sergeant Winston today.”
“You haven’t already?” For the first time today, Dr. Connor revealed an emotion—surprise.
Madison shook her head. “Not yet.”
“I see.” Dr. Connor was flicking her pen, albeit slowly.
There was that damn I see again…
“What?” Madison asked.
“You’re censoring and suppressing your gut instincts. Why?”
“I just thought I was dragging Constantine into the murder because of my recent episodes…the images. I thought I was being paranoid and seeing what wasn’t there.”
“Maybe you were afraid that you were right. And if you’re right, that means your power and control are being threatened.”
Madison scoffed. “What control?”
“Exactly.” Dr. Connor smiled. “Control is, at best, an illusion, and it’s a lesson most of us must relearn again and again throughout our lives. Control is something we convince ourselves we need to ease our minds, to assign rationale to things that are not going the way we’d like. With the recent loss of your friend, you’ve been reminded that sometimes things happen whether you want them to or not.”
“Don’t I know it,” Madison stated sourly.
“You can’t fix every situation, just as you can’t control everything.”
Despite the gentleness of the doctor’s words, Madison’s eyes snapped to Dr. Connor’s. “I know that.”
Dr. Connor relaxed her demeanor further, no doubt to prompt Madison to turn inward and gauge how she really felt. She’d told Madison on many occasions that honesty with one’s self was also integral to healing and moving forward.
So what if she wanted to fix the situation? Reverse time? Wasn’t that a perfectly normal reaction when you lost someone?
“Who wouldn’t want to change something like that?” Madison had to stop and breathe as emotion washed over her. “Barry left behind three daughters, a wife who loved him, friends.”
“Horrible, for certain. And heartbreaking.” Dr. Connor managed a sympathetic stance without sounding condescending.
A tear fell down Madison’s cheek, and she let the wet streak sit there. Maybe she held back her emotions too often, embarrassed by them, denying them their existence.
“I think about him and his family most days.” The confession ripped from her throat.
“That is completely understandable.” Dr. Connor angled her head slightly to the right. “And how do you feel when you think about them?”
“Sad,” Madison ground out, but guilt quickly snaked in. What right did she have to grieve when his family had to carry on without him? They had more of a right to feel his loss than she did. Her role was to be strong for them, to be there if they needed anything. “I do remember some good times.”
“Of course, you would.” Dr. Connor’s agreeable tone encouraged Madison to elaborate.
“Troy and I went over for a barbecue this one time and…” Madison’s insides were a tangled mess, carrying sadness yet a lightness that came with nostalgia. “Well, Barry had gone on for days about how he was going to cook us this amazing roast chicken on the rotisserie, but it came out so dry.” She found that she was smiling. “There wasn’t enough water to wash it down. We ended up ordering pizza.”
Dr. Connor’s smile was sincere, touching her eyes and crinkling the skin around them. “I have been there myself.”
Madison’s grief rooted deeper down. Her mouth went pasty, her cheeks flushed, and her stomach curdled. “Why is all this coming up today? I didn’t come here to talk about Barry. Is it just a matter of me feeling like I’ve lost control?”
“As we’ve touched on in recent sessions, you’re likely feeling your mortality more these days. It started with Barry’s death—”
“Murder,” Madison corrected and then looked away from Dr. Connor, sorry that she had interrupted her.
“And,” Dr. Connor continued, “now you believe that the man who almost raped and killed you is back in town. Those are more than enough emotional triggers to have flashbacks resurfacing with such intensity.” Dr. Connor crossed her legs at the ankles. “I recommend that you take some time off—after you take the necessary precautions in case he is back—and just allow yourself to be with your feelings and practice the EMDR method we’ve discussed. And trust your instincts, Madison. They’re there for a reason.”
TRUST MY INSTINCTS…
Madison replayed Dr. Connor’s advice in her head on the way to her car. It was funny because usually she never had a problem doing just that. If anything, she was driven by instincts more than facts. She had a way of going all-in before she had all the evidence in place, and it had served her well as a cop, even if it occasionally gave Terry heartburn and made him fear being fired.
As these thoughts went through her mind, she mildly chastised herself for doubting what was coming up for her now. And hadn’t her instincts been right about Bates having a connection to the Russians? That was almost as good as proven just by him keeping company with Constantine.
As she walked to her car, the air was cold and bitter. Snow was in the forecast, and she hugged her coat to herself. Goo
se bumps formed on her flesh, but it wasn’t from the chill. Something was tucked under one of her wiper blades. It could just be a flyer of some kind, but her instincts were firing off warning signals in rapid succession. As she got closer, she saw it was an envelope. She plucked it off the windshield and read the outside: Detective Madison Knight.
Shivers sliced through her body, and her breathing quickened.
Did she really want to open this? What if it somehow confirmed all her paranoia as fact, that Constantine was in town and she had his attention?
Swallowing hard, she slipped a finger under the unsealed lip of the envelope, pulled out a tri-folded piece of paper, and read it:
Were you missing me? No need to any longer. I’m back, and I have my eye on you and yours.
C
She dropped the letter and braced herself against the hood of the car. Her head was spinning and her heart hammering. She felt all the blood drain from her face as dread washed over her, weighing her down to the concrete.
This couldn’t be happening. She’d become complacent, lulling herself into a false sense of security by hiding behind words and faulty logic. And for Constantine to have left this here, he would have been here in the last hour. That meant he must have been following her. And the parking lot was aboveground with automated gates… He had been brazen enough to expose himself in the light of day.
She spun around, frantically studying her surroundings, but she saw no one. Her gut knotted and breathing was becoming increasingly difficult. It was clear he had every intention of following through with his threat. She looked down at the piece of paper that lay on the ground at her feet and went to pick it up. She found herself hesitating, as if it were a serpent that would bite her hand. Any hope that Constantine was long gone disintegrated, because the truth was, Constantine was still in town and he was coming for her. And, from the sound of it, her loved ones.
-
CHAPTER
13
THIS WAS REALLY HAPPENING. Constantine was back for her and her family. Her first thought went to Troy but was followed quickly with images of her sister and her nieces. Her parents lived in Florida and should at least be safely out of his reach, but the rest of them? She fumbled as she tried to get her phone out of her coat pocket.
God, who should she call first? She needed to make sure everyone was safe—right now. Maybe if she called Troy and then the station, she could have officers go by her sister’s, to her nieces’ school and the youngest one’s daycare, to her brother-in-law’s office, and after that, she could make a call to the local Florida cops to check in on her parents, just in case.
She pressed the speed dial for Troy and let her gaze continue to skitter over the parking lot for any sign of Constantine. She was too exposed and vulnerable standing there, and tremors shot through her. But if he was just going to pull a trigger, why the taunting note? She had a horrible feeling a single bullet wouldn’t inflict enough torture for Constantine’s liking.
Troy’s phone continued ringing in her ear.
“Pick up!” she cried out.
Two women were walking toward her with quizzical expressions on their faces. Madison made eye contact with one of them.
“Are you okay?” the woman asked.
Madison bit down on her bottom lip and ran a hand through her hair. She nodded. “I’ll be fine. Thanks.”
The one who’d asked how she was shrugged and bugged out her eyes at her friend as if Madison was crazy. They kept walking toward a sedan parked two down from Madison’s Mazda and got in.
“You’ve reached the voice mail of—”
Madison hung up, gripping her phone tightly. Why wasn’t he answering?
Troy had the day off. He was planning to go into the station later for her meeting with Winston and the police chief, but otherwise, he could be anywhere. If Constantine knew where to find her this morning, he’d likely tailed her from Troy’s house.
She got into her car and tugged on her seat belt.
Maybe Troy was just busy, or his phone was on mute, or…
She tried him again, and it rang to voice mail once more.
This time she left a message. “Troy, it’s me. Call me back the second you get this,” she rushed out. “Constantine’s back.”
She ended the call and thrust the key into the ignition, ready to tear out of the lot, but there was one more number she could try to reach him. It was primarily reserved for his boss in case a call came in requiring Troy’s SWAT team since he was on call 24-7, even on his days off.
She tried that number. It went to voice mail, too.
She pressed her phone to her forehead.
Please don’t tell me he’s…
Madison put the car into gear, and her phone rang. She answered quickly. “Troy?”
“You got the T part right, but this is—”
“Terry, something’s happened,” she blurted out, panic shredding her insides. She pushed the button on the kiosk to lift the barricade at the parking lot’s exit.
“What is it?” Terry sounded nauseated, as if he’d already been struck with bad news. “Are you all right? Where are you?”
“I’m fine, but—” She checked her mirrors. Constantine could be watching her right now.
“Maddy?” Terry prompted. “You’re scaring me.”
She pulled out onto the street. “Constantine’s back.” She swallowed the mouthful of bile that had risen in her throat. The sour taste hit her tongue, but it was nothing compared to the unsettled and knotted ball in the pit of her stomach, nor the one in her chest. What if he had… No, she couldn’t even finish the thought. She just had to get to Troy. She floored it through a yellow light.
“How do you know he’s still—”
“He left me a note.”
“What? Where are you? I’m coming.”
“No, Terry. I need you to get officers to go by my sister’s house and check in on her. My nieces’ school and daycare, my brother-in-law’s office, too. Also my parents in Florida… Please call the locals.”
Screw worrying about acting prematurely. She had reasons to take precautions. She added, “He probably has no idea where they are, but…” Ideally, Madison would be able to call her sister first and have her reach out to their parents, but she had to get to Troy right this instant. Then it hit her. If Constantine’s threat included those she loved, that could also include Terry and his wife and baby daughter. “You should probably get officers to watch over Annabelle and Danielle, as well.”
“What did the note say?” Terry’s voice was strained, as if his vocal chords were tight.
Her heart was aching, and her mouth was salivating. It was one thing when it was her life in danger, but what had she done to bring this vendetta on her family?
“Maddy?” Terry prompted.
She merged over to the next lane. “He threatened me and those I love.”
“I’ll get officers dispatched right away.”
“And Cynthia. Make sure she’s okay, too. Please.” She paused, drawing in a few deep breaths. “I can’t reach Troy. I need to make sure he’s all right.”
“You tried his on-call phone?”
“Yeah, no answer. It just rings to voice mail.” Fear and hysteria were churning her insides. She should have listened to her instincts from the beginning. From the moment she first saw Bates lying dead in his bed. But she hadn’t thought he’d involve her loved ones. If anything happened to any of them, she’d never forgive herself.
Another driver laid on their horn.
“Are you driving?” Terry asked.
“Yeah. I’m on speaker,” she added offhandedly. “It’s Troy’s day off. I’m going to try the house first.”
“I’ll get backup to meet you there.”
“Please do.”
“Be safe.”
“I will.
” She clicked off. The world was passing around her in blurs as she drove. She wished for the lights and sirens of the department car and cursed that she was in her personal vehicle.
Still, she made it in record time. There was no sign of backup, but she wasn’t going to wait. Troy’s Ford Expedition was in the driveway, so why wasn’t he answering his phone?
She parked and ran to the front door. She slipped her key in and realized it was unlocked.
Breathe… He doesn’t always lock the door.
The thought did little good to calm her down, though, and she drew her gun. She breezed through the entry and the living room.
“Troy!”
She put her head through the kitchen doorway. The room was empty.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
“Troy!”
And where was Hershey?
She headed down the hallway to the bedroom. The door was closed.
She put her ear against it and listened, but didn’t hear anything coming from inside. There was only one way to find out what was behind the door, and that was to open it. Her hand froze on the doorknob as horrible images conjured by her imagination paraded through her mind.
“You can do this,” she told herself.
She turned the knob slowly and pushed on the door. Light filtered into the room from the hall behind her and around the curtains.
Hershey got up from where he had been lying and greeted her with a wagging tail, but her attention quickly went to the bed. Someone was under the blankets.
“Troy!” she cried out.
“What?” he shouted as he bolted upright. His chest and shoulders were heaving. “Maddy? What the hell?”
She jumped onto the bed and threw her arms around him. She kissed his lips and nuzzled into his neck, pecking him there. She pulled back and peered into his eyes. “Thank God, you’re okay.”
“I was, anyway. You almost gave me a heart attack.” He put one hand on her arm and cupped her cheek with the other. “What’s going on?”
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