Maisie Fezziwig 01-Hickory Dickory Dead

by Cheryl Bradshaw

He paused. “I dunno. The jocks tend to stick together, so maybe. The girl who was raped, did she go to the police at least?”

  “She didn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Her attackers threatened her, and it scared her enough to keep quiet. She hadn’t told anyone about it until tonight. I told her to talk to Detective MacDougal. Jayden may be dead, but if she comes forward and tells her story, it might help the police find out why Lane and Zoey were murdered, and maybe even help them find Linda.”

  “I don’t understand. How could it help? How are they connected to each other?”

  Maisie folded her arms, looked Brennan in the eye. “I need you to tell me what the argument was really about between you and Lane. Whatever Linda didn’t want you to say doesn’t matter anymore. What happened to Linda, Brennan?”

  “Nothing. Nothing happened to her.”

  “Brennan. Look me in the eye. I need to know the truth now.”

  He seemed so lost and confused, so unsure about what to say and if it was all right to say it.

  “Shall I help you?” Maisie asked.

  “Help me how?”

  “By telling you my theory. You see, I believe I’ve figured out the big secret you all have been keeping. I may not know who killed Zoey, but I know why she was killed.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Jayden Conrad raped her too.”

  CHAPTER 34

  There were only a handful of reasons people were compelled to commit murder. If Maisie was inclined to believe Lane killed Jayden, she assumed his motive was either the urge to protect, or out of frustration or hate, or possibly even a combination of the three. The person responsible for murdering Lane and Zoey, on the other hand had a different motivation, most likely attributed to a vendetta or to keep a secret under wraps. She was close to discovering the identity of the killer. Very close.

  “I’m right, aren’t I?” Maisie asked. “Jayden raped Zoey.”

  Brennan looked away, didn’t respond.

  “A simple yes or no will do,” Maisie added.

  “Fine,” he sighed. “Yes. You’re right. He did.”

  “How long ago?”

  “Three days before Jayden died.”

  “So, she was—”

  “Pregnant? Yeah. Who rapes a pregnant woman?”

  “Maybe he didn’t know she was pregnant,” he said.

  “I mean, she wore big shirts and stuff, but she said Jayden rubbed his hand on her belly when he raped her. The dude knew, and he still did it.”

  “How many men attacked her?” Maisie asked.

  “One.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He nodded.

  “Did Jayden threaten Zoey in the same way he threatened all the women he raped?”

  “Yep, he said he’d come after Linda if Zoey told anyone what happened.”

  “She didn’t keep quiet though, did she? She told Lane and Linda what happened.”

  He nodded. “Linda tried to get her to talk to the police. She figured it was Zoey’s best shot to prove Jayden did it.”

  “She didn’t go to the police though. Why not?”

  “She was embarrassed.”

  “Why? It wasn’t her fault.”

  “I know. She thought it was though. She let him into her dorm room. She thought Jayden would say she invited him in, like she led him on, even though she didn’t.”

  “Letting a man into her dorm room didn’t grant him permission to take advantage. Rape is rape. When she refused to tell the police, why didn’t Linda do it, or Lane, or you?”

  “She would have never forgiven us.”

  He’d had an obligation. All of them had. They’d let Zoey down, and she was dead because of it.

  Maisie crossed one leg over the other. “Tell me about the fight you had with Lane, only, this time tell me the truth.”

  Brennan grabbed a pillow, pressed it against the wall behind him, and leaned back onto it. “After Zoey told Lane she was raped, he went ballistic. It consumed the guy. It was all he talked about.”

  “Did he confront Jayden?”

  “Don’t think so. He didn’t want to confront him. He wanted to kill him. I didn’t blame the guy, but I didn’t think he’d actually do it. The guy was a softie. I never pegged him for a killer.”

  “When did you know?”

  “Not until about a month after he did it. When the news came out about Jayden’s death, he was glad the guy was dead, but he’d say things like he wondered who did it.”

  “How did you find out Lane was responsible?”

  “Linda told me one night.”

  “Who else knew?”

  “Linda said Zoey told Lena what happened because Lena kept seeing Zoey crying after she moved back home, and she knew something was wrong.”

  Maisie wondered whom Lena had told, and how many loose lips had spread it around until someone found out who shouldn’t have. “What was Lane’s plan?”

  Brennan nodded. “When Zoey was raped, Jayden held a gun to her head. Lane planned to steal the gun and then kill Jayden. He figured using the guy’s own gun was his best option. He didn’t have money to buy one, and he figured it couldn’t be traced back to him.”

  “And you didn’t like the idea? Is that why you argued?”

  “I didn’t like that it was kept from me. I thought it put us all in danger. And now look—Zoey’s dead, Lane’s dead, and Linda could be dead too.”

  “How did Lane get his hands on Jayden’s gun?” Maisie asked.

  “He kept it in his dorm during class. Everyone knew it because he flashed it around from time to time. It wasn’t hard.”

  “So Lane went to the bar, waited for Jayden to leave, then killed him in the alley?”

  “Yep. He almost didn’t do it. When it came time to pull the trigger, he hesitated.”

  “Why?”

  “Jayden plead for his life, just like anyone would do in his situation. Lane knew if he let him go, Jayden would have come after him, and he knew it.”

  “How could you and Linda sit here all this time and keep quiet, knowing what happened to Lane and Zoey was probably tied to Jayden’s death and Zoey’s rape?”

  He frowned, his face a mixture of helplessness and regret. “We couldn’t tell anyone.”

  “What do you mean? Of course you could. You both just chose not to do it.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Then enlighten me.”

  “The morning Zoey was taken, Linda came back to her dorm after class and found a note stuck to her computer screen. It said if she wanted Zoey to live, she couldn’t talk to anyone about what she knew.”

  Maisie stood, smacked Brennan on the leg. “Get up.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m taking you to see MacDougal so you can tell him your story.”

  “I already talked to the guy. He was just here.”

  “Did you tell him what you just told me?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  “Zoey is dead now, and if you don’t get off your ass and tell the cops what’s really going on, you may as well kiss your life and Linda’s goodbye because the two of you will probably be next.”

  CHAPTER 35

  It all came down to revenge, tit for tat, a second rapist who knew Lane killed Jayden and was on his own personal crusade of revenge. Maisie sat with Brennan in MacDougal’s office. It was late, after midnight, and MacDougal had been summoned from bed. He sat across from them, arms crossed on top of the desk, eyes only partway open.

  “I’m here,” MacDougal said. “This better be good.”

  “Oh, it is,” Maisie replied.

  “Let’s get to it then. I’m tired. Who’s going first?”

  Maisie looked at Brennan. “Tell him what you told me.”

  A nervous Brennan did what she asked, explaining everything to MacDougal and admitting he’d lied to police when he’d been questioned before. MacDougal sat back and listened, his finger tapping the edge of the desk, eyes wil
d, like he wanted to tear into Brennan with his own two hands.

  When Brennan finished, MacDougal said, “So basically what you’re saying is you’re a liar.”

  “Did you hear what I said? I didn’t mean to lie. I wasn’t trying to keep anything from anyone. I thought it was my only choice.”

  MacDougal slammed his hand down on the desk. “Your only choice? People are dead because of you! Think about it for a minute, kid. They’re dead. They’re never coming back.”

  Brennan hung his head and remained silent, giving MacDougal a chance to calm down. A minute later, MacDougal said, “Tell me about the note Linda found. Did you see it?”

  “I didn’t. She just told me about it.”

  “What did she do with the note after she got it?”

  “I dunno. I didn’t ask her.”

  MacDougal leaned forward, finger wagging in Brennan’s direction. “Kid, if you don’t start giving me some real answers, I’ll find a reason to hold you here until you do. Got it?”

  “Linda just said she needed to keep her mouth shut in order for Zoey to stay alive. If she didn’t, Zoey would die, and Linda would be next.”

  “But Zoey is dead, and Linda is probably next.” MacDougal bent his head back, looked at the ceiling, and sighed. “Anything else? Because I can hardly stand the sight of you right now.”

  Brennan shook his head.

  “Good.”

  Brennan rose from his chair. “Am I good to go then?”

  “Yep. Are you sure there’s nothing else you need to add before you leave? If there is, now’s the time. I don’t want to haul your ass in here again because I find out you’re still holding out on me.”

  “I’ve told you everything.”

  Maisie leaned toward MacDougal. “Did the young woman I spoke to earlier come talk to you this evening?”

  “She was the reason I was called back to work the first time tonight. You’re the second.” He shook his head. “I should have just brought a change of clothes and spent the night.”

  “What did she say about the mask the second attacker was wearing?”

  “She described it to me.”

  “Yes, but did she talk about what she saw when he turned to the side? It’s nothing major, but it may help to identify him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Aware Brennan was standing by his chair like a child waiting to be dismissed, MacDougal said, “Brennan, you can go now.”

  “Oh, okay. I wasn’t sure it was ... okay, cool.”

  Brennan left the room. MacDougal bent his head toward Maisie. “What haven’t you told me?”

  CHAPTER 36

  The following morning, Maisie sat at the kitchen table with Lena. She’d looked so forlorn when she arrived, Maisie broke one of her few rules, making Lena a mimosa with an extra splash of champagne. The girl had just lost her sister. She deserved one tiny reprieve.

  “I can’t stay,” Lena said. “Thanks for the drink though. I need it.”

  “I’m sorry about Zoey. I wish she wouldn’t have been found the way she was.”

  “At least she was found, I guess. If the guy was going to kill her, he was going to kill her. I mean, my heart hurts for my sister, but at least now we have closure.”

  Closure, yes, but how long it would take her family to heal from their loss was another story. Maisie supposed the silver lining, if there was one, was Alice. Maisie may not have been able to save Zoey, but she thanked every star in the heavens the baby was safe.

  “I wanted to talk to you about a delicate matter involving your sister. I’ve recently learned she moved home right before she married Lane because she was assaulted on campus.”

  Lena’s eyes widened. “How do you—”

  “How I know hardly matters now. I thought you should know that your sister wasn’t the only girl who was attacked. There was another girl, and possibly many others.”

  “Keeping the secret for her was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. She made me promise not to say a word to anyone. I thought about telling someone after she went missing, and then I thought if I did, and if the person who took her was the same person who raped her, he might kill her. Now she’s dead, and I wish I would have said something. I don’t know what I would have said though. She knew who raped her, but she wouldn’t tell me his name. I still don’t know who he is.”

  “What all do you know about the attack?”

  She swallowed half of the mimosa. “It was fast. He didn’t speak while he did it. She said it lasted around three minutes, and all she could think about was the baby and if the baby would be okay. He told her if she told anyone, he’d come back and do the same thing to Linda, and then he left.”

  “After your sister told you, did you tell anyone else?”

  She bit her bottom lip. “I ... umm ...”

  “Lena, I need to know. It’s important.

  “I only told one person, I swear. It was just so heavy, I needed to talk to someone I could trust to keep quiet. I was going crazy keeping it bottled up to myself.”

  “Who did you tell?”

  She paused, then said, “Kyle Grady.”

  CHAPTER 37

  Brittany sat on the sofa in Maisie’s living room. “How long do you think this will take?”

  “Hard to say,” Maisie said. “But if I had to guess, not long.”

  Brittany fidgeted, running a hand over the tips of her fingernails until it looked like the polish was starting to wear off. “I guess I thought when you said they’d protect me that I’d be able to stay at my house and they’d just have a couple cops watching out for me and my family, or something.”

  “There are cops watching out for your family, but MacDougal thought it was best if we do it this way, and I agree.”

  “If you say so. When can I go back to work?”

  Maisie opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the doorbell.

  A nervous Brittany bit down on her lip. “What should I do?”

  “Nothing yet. Sit tight. Let’s see who it is first.”

  Maisie walked to the door, opened it. “Good afternoon, Brennan. I’m surprised to see you here.”

  “Hey Maisie. Can I come in? I was hoping to talk to you more about the other girl who was attacked by those two guys.”

  “What about her?”

  “I heard you tell that detective last night this other girl remembered something about the man in the mask.”

  “Just a few of his facial features, that’s right.”

  Maisie held the door wide open, allowing Brennan to step inside. He followed her to the living room, gasping when he saw Brittany leaning against a wall in Maisie’s hallway.

  Maisie stretched a hand toward Brittany. “Here she is. Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

  “I ... uhh ... this is the girl who was attacked?”

  “Yes, I’m the girl,” Brittany said. “What do you want to know?”

  “You said you noticed something about the man who attacked you, even though he was wearing a mask.”

  “I caught a glimpse of the side of his face, that’s all.”

  “What did you notice?”

  “He had a beard. Not a long one. Short and neatly trimmed. There was also a small mole on the right side of his lip.”

  Maisie looked at Brennan, gave a slight laugh. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was talking about you. You have the exact facial hair she described to me, and you have a mole in the exact same spot.”

  Brittany stood. “Nice to meet you, Brennan. I gotta go. I’m headed to an appointment.”

  “The police are having her do a sketch based on what little she remembers,” Maisie said. “They’re also bringing in a therapist who specializes in helping individuals who’ve suffered from a traumatic event return to that memory to see if they can recall things they may have blocked out. Who knows? Maybe she’ll remember more about what he looked like under that mask.”

  While Brennan focused on what Maisie was saying, Brittany slipp
ed around the corner. He jerked his head around. “Where’d she go?”

  “Oh, I have a sliding glass door off the side of my room. She probably went out that way. Her car’s parked out there.”

  Brennan bolted past Maisie, and Maisie whipped around. He yanked a revolver tucked beneath his pants and held it out in front of him.

  “Stop right there,” Maisie yelled. “Don’t move.”

  Brennan whipped around, seeing Maisie had her own gun aimed straight at his head. He didn’t think, and he didn’t hesitate. He fired, the bullet slamming into Maisie’s chest. He watched her go down, then turned to follow Brittany. But instead of running after her, he halted. There, in front of him, was MacDougal, and the detective’s gun was pointed straight at Brennan’s head. MacDougal took one look at Maisie, then back to Brennan, and said, “Big mistake, asshole.”

  CHAPTER 38

  Shaken but not stirred, Maisie sat up, glaring at Brennan, who stood in disbelief, as if he were watching someone rise from the dead. She yanked the front of her shirt up, flashing him the bullet-proof vest beneath, pleased with both her performance and with Brittany’s.

  MacDougal removed Brennan’s gun, slid it over to Maisie, and then pinned Brennan against the wall, cuffing him. He dragged him down the hallway, thrusting him on the living room floor.

  “How long had you and Jayden been raping women together?” MacDougal said.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “Your gun is going to be tested, and when it matches the bullet we removed from Zoey Marshall, it won’t matter what you say. You’ll be tried and convicted for her murder.”

  “Whatever. I’m not talking.”

  MacDougal aimed his gun at Brennan.

  “You are talking. Now.”

  “You can’t fire at me! You’re a cop.”

  MacDougal glanced at Maisie. “What do you say? Should I shoot him?”

  She shrugged. “It’s a hardwood floor. It’ll clean up just fine. Do what you must.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Brennan said.