by T. L. Haddix
His brother was frowning, as though trying to understand. “Is what you have with Stacy like what you had with Mallory?”
Gordon answered promptly. “No. It’s completely different. I don’t know if I can explain it. I really loved Mallory, and I don’t mean to say what we had wasn’t as good as what I have with Stacy, but it’s different. This is deeper, harder, but in a good way. If that makes sense. Mallory never went through anything like what Stacy did, even though she had cancer and we lost a child. She was never without a support system. Stacy’s never had that system.” He remembered what she’d said about the shoes, and he laughed harshly. He told Garrett about it. “She’s the opposite of Mallory in so many ways, and that’s one of the things I love most about her. Do you know what it did to me, hearing her say that she was afraid she was being a snob because she didn’t like buying used shoes?”
Garrett winced. “I can imagine it was hard. I know Mallory came from money, and I know that wasn’t easy for you, especially since we grew up the way we did. I’ve never said anything to you because it wouldn’t have served any useful purpose to do so, but I never thought you and Mallory were a good fit. I think she stomped all over your pride, even though you loved each other.” He shrugged. “And by the time you and I had a relationship good enough that I thought I could say something, it didn’t matter.”
“I don’t think Stacy is going to do that. She’s had to work her ass off for everything she has, and she knows how to bargain to get good deals. I’ll admit that the notion we’re working together to build our lives holds a lot of appeal. We’re equals.”
“Well, she makes you laugh. And I think you definitely have your hands full with her, in a good way. I don’t suppose she has a sister lurking somewhere, does she?”
Gordon smiled. “Not that we’re aware of, no. But speaking of her family, there’s a friend of her mother’s you need to be aware of. Does the name Maggie Turner mean anything to you?”
Stacy came back in, looking tired, but more composed. Gordon held out his hand to her as she approached, and she took it when she sat down.
“You’re telling him about Maggie?”
“Yeah.”
“The name isn’t familiar, no,” Garrett replied. “Should it be?”
“We think so. Maggie and my mother grew up together, and after the attack, I stayed with her for a little while. She’s been more of a mother to me than Pam ever was. That said, our relationship is strained these days. Even though I can’t prove it, I’ve long felt that Maggie knows where Pam is.”
Gordon used his phone to e-mail Garrett the files on Maggie and Stacy’s parents. “Charlie Clark that you spoke with? I’m sending you the background searches he completed. There’s a Manchester address in there, apparently a house that Maggie rented. Which makes no sense, as she lives in Etown.”
Garrett frowned as he opened the files and read the address. “That’s odd. I didn’t know that house had been rented. It’s a murder house, and even as hard as it is to find housing down here, no one wants to live there.”
“Sounds like the Chad Ormsby house in Leroy,” Stacy said. “He was a doctor who turned out to be a serial killer. I don’t even think the bank has the house listed anymore. It got so little attention.”
“You do know that if this Maggie Turner rented the house for Pam, she’s at the very least aiding and abetting a fugitive, right?” Garrett questioned gently.
“Yeah. And at the worst, she’s part of the ring. I don’t want to believe that Maggie would do that, but at this point, I don’t think much would surprise me.” Stacy rested her head on her folded arms, face turned to the side so she could watch Garrett and Gordon. “What now?”
“Well, we’ve been working with the state police as well as investigators up on base at Fort Knox,” Garrett said. “Given this information, I think we need to pull Maggie in and talk to her. I know you probably don’t want to hear that.”
“As much as I’ve been through this week, if Maggie knows anything, I want answers. If she knew what Pam was up to and didn’t do anything, she’s as guilty as my mother.”
Gordon rubbed her back. When her eyes closed, he realized how tired she was.
“We probably should think about heading back,” he told Garrett softly.
Stacy’s eyes flew open. “No, you two wanted to visit.”
“We can visit later,” Garrett said. “I’ll try to drive up to Leroy next weekend with Emma, if you two don’t have anything planned. We can visit then.”
“I don’t. You?” Stacy asked.
“Nope. I’m not scheduled to start my refresher course for a few more weeks, so my time is pretty open. There’s not much we can do on your house. We should have you moved into the condo by then.”
“Are you planning to rebuild the house?” Garrett asked as he escorted them downstairs.
“Right now, I don’t know what I’m—we’re—planning,” Stacy admitted. “I’ve barely had time to come to the realization that my house burned, much less figure out what to do about it.”
“I can imagine. Listen, I’ll get in touch with some people, head over to that rental house tonight. See if we can prove that’s where Pam’s been. If it is, I’ll call my contacts up near Fort Knox, and they’ll probably want to bring Maggie Turner in for questioning. I’ll let you know how it goes.” Garrett hugged Gordon tightly, then saluted Stacy. “See you soon.”
“It was nice meeting you,” she responded, tongue in cheek.
Little flags of color spread across Garrett’s cheeks. “Hopefully, it ended better than it began.”
Stacy smiled. “It did. Take care of Emma.”
“Always.”
When they hit the interstate twenty minutes later, Stacy was barely holding her eyes open. When she yawned again, Gordon reached over and tugged on her braided hair.
“Lay the seat back and take a nap. We didn’t get much sleep last night.”
She hmm’d. “No, we didn’t. I’m not complaining, though. Maybe I will try to catch a few minutes. Wake me if you need me?”
“Sure.”
They followed the setting sun all the way home. The days were definitely getting longer, Gordon thought. With the radio volume low, he settled back and let his mind drift over everything Garrett had told them.
Gordon had hoped they were dealing with someone operating at a level little more than that of a petty criminal, who was getting a boost from a corrupt law enforcement officer. After talking with Garrett, he knew they were actually facing someone much more dangerous, more skilled. He wondered if whomever Pam was collaborating with in Leroy had any idea what they’d really gotten themselves into.
Gordon tried to rouse Stacy from her sleep halfway through the trip home, but she only murmured and rolled slightly onto her side. He grabbed a discarded coat from the backseat, draped it over her, and let her sleep. She woke up as they reached the house.
With the garage door closed behind them, he turned to watch her in the dim light from the garage door opener. One dark, silky lock of hair had fallen across her cheek and her lips, and he smoothed it back. She was curled onto her side as much as she could in the bucket seat. She was so beautiful that his heart melted.
“Hey, sleepyhead. We’re home.” He tickled her lip, then her nose, but she wrinkled her face and rolled over. Getting out, Gordon laughed softly, He unlocked the door going into the house, then returned to the car. Opening the passenger door, he leaned in and unbuckled her seat belt.
“Stacy, wake up. We’re home.”
Grumbling, she slowly opened her eyes, blinking up at him.
“Hi. I was starting to think you were going to end up sleeping in the car tonight.”
“What time is it?” She stretched.
He glanced at his watch. “A little before seven. Think you can walk?”
“Sure. I can’t believe I slept the whole way back.”
“You were tired.” He helped her to her feet, steadying her when she swayed. “Easy.�
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“I’m okay.” She pushed her hair out of her face and yawned.
Gordon kept his arms around her, kissing her temple softly.
She sighed and leaned into him for a hug, then pushed away. “I really need a bathroom. Sorry.”
“Door’s unlocked. We need to get you some keys.” He followed her inside.
“Yeah, and I need to get some more shopping done,” she called over her shoulder as she headed for the bathroom. “Do you feel like going out tonight, or is it too late?”
“Entirely up to you.”
Gordon opened the curtains to the French doors looking out over the yard. Louisville’s lights twinkled in the distance, and as he stretched his muscles, he smiled.
“What’re you smiling about?” Stacy asked as she came back down the hall. She wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his back.
“I’m getting ready to take my wife shopping. Do you have any idea how cool that is? We’re married.”
She squeezed him. “I have an idea.”
Gordon traced her wedding band. “I figured you might.”
“I miss Chloe. Think she misses me?”
He turned, pulling her into him. “I know she does. We’ll see her soon.”
“Yeah, I know. I just miss her. She’s become a huge part of my life so quickly. I didn’t expect that. Kind of like another green-eyed, dark-haired person I know.”
“She’s cuter.”
“Depends on your perspective. Come on. Let’s get this shopping out of the way. Maybe tomorrow, we can play the tourist?”
Keeping up the light flirtation, Gordon followed her out the door. “Sounds good to me.”
CHAPTER 35
THEY WERE DECIDING WHAT TO do after getting up the next morning when the phone rang. Gordon answered with the speakerphone.
Garrett was calling to tell them he was on his way to Elizabethtown. “The house was exactly what we thought it would be,” he said. “My contacts up there have brought Maggie in, and she’s refusing to talk to anyone besides Stacy. Think you guys can meet me at the Hardin County Detention Center?”
Stacy looked at Gordon. “I think so. When?”
“About two hours. Detective Jan Hathaway is the guy you’ll need to speak with, if you get there ahead of me. I’m sorry, Stacy.”
“So am I.”
After Gordon ended the call, they looked at each other. Stacy looked away first, standing and taking her breakfast dishes to the sink. The omelets Gordon had made now sat like lead in her stomach.
“I have had about as much of this as I can take,” she admitted softly. “I need to call Wyatt, get some files sent down here. That printer of yours, does it do color?”
“Yeah. Stacy, sweetheart—”
“I can’t talk about it right now. I need to focus on this as though it were any other case. I’m sure I’ll fall apart later, but for right now, I need to stay focused.”
“Okay. You tell me what you need, and we’ll make it happen.”
By the time they reached Elizabethtown, Stacy was ready to face Maggie. She was incredibly anxious to get the interview underway. Gordon called Garrett when they got to the detention center, but his brother had beaten them by five minutes.
As they waited for him in the lobby, Stacy squared her shoulders. She’d worn one of her new work blouses with the single pair of dress pants she’d packed before the house had burned. Her hair was pulled back in a tight twist, and with the exception of the absence of her gun, she looked like she was ready to go to work. She realized that Maggie would notice the ring. After Garrett had rounded the corner and greeted them, she turned to Gordon with her hand out.
“Take it off, please?”
He frowned. “What? Your ring?”
She nodded. “I don’t want Maggie to know. I appear more vulnerable if she thinks I’m still alone.” When he reluctantly removed the wedding band, she held up her right hand. “I can wear it on this hand. She won’t realize the significance.”
A tiny smile played around Garrett’s lips as he watched his brother slide the ring onto her right ring finger. “What, you couldn’t switch it yourself?”
Stacy made a face at him. “No. He put it there, he had to be the one to take it off. Are they ready for us?”
“Everyone’s waiting. So far, they’ve charged her with A and A, like we thought they would. Depending on what she tells you, they’ll go from there. This is Detective Hathaway.” He introduced them to a thin, balding man coming down the hall to greet them.
“Detective, Mr. Gordon. Thanks for coming down. Garrett said he’d brought you up to speed on our investigation and he’s told me some of what you’ve been facing. I’m sorry,” he told Stacy.
“Thanks. What all has Maggie said? Anything?”
He rested his hands on his hips. “Just that she’ll only talk to you. She’s your mother’s friend, I’m told.”
“And mine as well. Or so I thought. We brought some props, and I believe Garrett did, as well. If we can go someplace private, I’ll go over ours with you.”
He led them into the observation room next to where Maggie was being held. Stacy was stunned by how gray Maggie’s hair had gotten since the last time she’d seen her.
“She looks so old.” Shaking her head, she showed Detective Hathaway what she had. “Will I be alone in there? Or will one of your men be with me?”
“I’d like to send you in alone. She’s not been very responsive to any of our overtures.”
“Okay. Then we’ll do that.” With a quick squeeze of Gordon’s hand, she picked up the files and headed into the room. After knocking, she opened the door to face the truth. It was the heaviest door she’d ever opened.
Maggie looked up at her with a hard, wary expression on her face. When she saw that it was Stacy, the hardness faded somewhat. She started to stand, but Stacy held up her hand, and she sank back down.
“Baby girl, I didn’t know if you’d come or not.”
Stacy laid down the files and eased into the chair opposite Maggie. “This is a little unexpected, Maggie. What in the world is going on?”
Maggie sighed with a shudder. “I messed up. Do you think they’d let me smoke?”
“I doubt they’d let you light up, but we could get you a cigarette to hold. Would that work?” Stacy looked over her shoulder, and a quick tap sounded on the mirror that divided the two rooms.
“You probably think I’m being a drama queen, refusing to talk to anyone but you.” Maggie picked at the edge of the table. “But I don’t figure I owe anyone any explanations, other than you. And God, but he already knows everything.”
The door opened, and Detective Hathaway came in with a pack of cigarettes. “No lighter.” He tossed the pack on the table, then left. Maggie reached for the pack before the door closed behind him. Stacy waited as she opened it with shaking hands and pulled out a cigarette. Some of her anxiety faded as she brought the cigarette to her mouth.
“I rented the house in Manchester for your mother. I’ve been helping her since a year or two after you went to college, exactly like you accused me of.”
Stacy hid her disgust. “Helping her how, Maggie?”
“With money. Giving her a place to stay from time to time. I even got her a car a few years ago from a friend of mine who didn’t mind keeping the title in his name.”
“Do you know where she is now?”
Maggie shook her head. “No. I haven’t heard from her in about three months. That’s not unusual. I’ll go six months and not hear anything.”
Stacy rubbed her head, trying to act as distraught as she knew Maggie would expect her to be. It wasn’t a far stretch. “Do you have any idea what she’s been doing these past twelve years?”
“No. I asked her a couple of times, and she told me that it wasn’t anything I needed to know. It was better that I didn’t.”
Stacy studied the older woman, and Maggie returned the look. She was too controlled and certain of herself.
> “I don’t believe you, Maggie. I think you’re lying.”
“What? Baby girl, no! I swear to you, I don’t know what she’s been into.”
“You don’t?”
“No!”
Stacy raised her eyebrow. “You’re sure? No idea?”
“I told you, I don’t.”
“Do you want to know?”
Maggie hesitated. “Stacy, you’re scaring me. I’ve not seen you like this in years.”
“Well, we’re even, then, because I haven’t felt like this in years.” Opening the file and holding it so that Maggie couldn’t see the contents, Stacy selected the photos she wanted. Setting the folder aside, she carefully laid out the first three shots Garrett had provided one by one. “Pretty young girls, aren’t they?”
Maggie glanced at them. “They are. These two remind me of you when you were that old. What does that have to do with your mother?” A thread of uncertainty had crept into her calm voice.
When Stacy laid out the next three photos, Maggie recoiled in horror. “Oh, dear, God.”
The photos were of the same young women after they’d been found in abandoned houses or alleyways. Two were in advanced stages of decomposition.
“Pam lured these women in with promises of drugs, of money, of riches, who knows what else,” Stacy told her. “And then she turned them into prostitutes. When they couldn’t turn tricks anymore, she kicked them out. This is where they ended up. These are only the three we know about and can prove were part of the ring Pam is running.”
Maggie shook her head, but tears ran down her cheeks. She reached up to swipe them away.
“I don’t believe it. You’re so desperate to make her pay for what happened to you when you were a teenager, you’ll believe anything these cops tell you to. Pam wouldn’t do something like that.”
“She sold me to two men for five hundred dollars! I was seventeen, Maggie. They raped me, and they sodomized me, and they cut me. They were going to kill me, but I got away. And you don’t think she could do something like this?” Standing, Stacy unbuttoned her shirt with shaking hands. Her scars stood out harshly in the bright lights of the interrogation room. Maggie stared at them hard, then looked away.