“Em . . . I found Dad’s pocket watch in your room.”
Emily set down the photo and turned to Madison, dismay on her face. “You were in my room?”
“Yes. And I’m sorry, but why did you have it? Have you hidden it all these years?” Her sister’s expression was blank, but Madison knew anger simmered under the surface. “Mom searched high and low for that watch.”
“I know.”
Madison crossed her arms and tipped her head, waiting.
“I found it at Lindsay’s . . . that morning.”
Her heart stumbled. “What?”
“It was in the backyard. I stepped on it.”
“How . . .” Madison’s brain shut down. “Why . . .”
“I don’t know.” A shadow passed across Emily’s eyes. “Trust me, I’m still as confused as you are now. I told the FBI agents, and Agent McLane and I were driving to get it when . . . the accident happened.” Her throat moved as she swallowed hard.
“What d-does it mean?” Madison’s tongue stuttered over the words.
“I wish I knew.”
The memory of Emily picking up something in the yard the night their father was murdered suddenly rushed over her. “I saw you outside the night that Dad—I saw you pick up something from the grass. When I found the watch, I assumed that’s what you picked up.”
Emily paled. “You never said anything back then.”
“You never said anything. The investigators believed you were in the house. I saw you outside.” Her heartbeat accelerated, and a light-headedness made her sit in the other office chair.
Her sister’s mouth opened and closed, her eyes wide.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Madison caught her breath. “What are you hiding?” she whispered, her voice pleading for truth.
Tendons stood out on Emily’s neck, her pulse visible.
“Emily.”
Her sister ran a hand over her forehead and pressed at her temple. “What if I’m wrong?”
“Wrong about what?” Madison tensed, every muscle like rock.
Emily turned her attention back to the photo of their parents. “Wrong that I saw Tara out there that night.”
Her head reeled, and Madison clutched the arms of the chair. “Tara? No—she wasn’t there. She was at a friend’s. She said so.” Nausea swamped her. “I thought I saw Mom in the backyard moving in the trees.” Madison covered her face. “What is going on?”
“It wasn’t Mom,” Emily said. “I understand how you thought it was her because of the hair, but it was Tara.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. I saw Tara.” Emily’s voice was hollow. “In the woods, running.”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone you saw me?” Emily shot back.
“Because I wanted to protect you!”
“I was doing the same for Tara!”
The sisters stared at each other, both of their chests heaving, the air in the tiny office heavy with guilt and secrets.
Emily believed she was protecting Tara by staying silent.
“What did Tara do?” Madison whispered.
“I don’t know—I don’t want to know.”
Realization struck Madison like a hammer, stealing her breath. “That’s why you never searched for her.”
“I didn’t want to know what she had done.” Emily’s eyes were wet. “It had to be bad—why else would she leave?” She set down the photo as a struggle played out across her face.
“What is it?” Madison’s heart sank at her sister’s expression. “Tell me.”
“Zander found Tara this morning. I talked to her just hours ago.”
Madison’s mouth dried up, and her core turned to ice.
“Girls?” Dory stepped in the office, worry on her soft features, her hands in knots.
“What is it, Auntie?” Emily asked as calmly as if she and Madison had been discussing the weather. Madison was still speechless, Emily’s revelations ricocheting like a Super Ball in her skull.
Dory frowned, the lines around her mouth deepening. “I believe I just saw Tara.”
Emily rose out of her chair. “Where?” she gasped.
“Well, I think it was her. You know I’ve thought I’ve seen her a few times in the past.” Her gaze was uncertain.
True. Dory had directed them on a few wrong expeditions, startling confused young women.
“She looked right at me,” Dory continued. “She was older, of course, and her hair was short and brown, but I’m sure it was her.”
Disappointment filled Madison. Dory was confused.
“Brown hair?” Emily grasped Dory’s arm. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. It was about this long.” Dory lifted a hand to her chin.
“Madison. That’s her.” Excitement filled Emily’s face. “She’s come back.”
“Wait.” Madison struggled to catch up. “You mean that’s how her hair looks now?”
“Yes. Is she in the diner, Dory?”
“No. I saw her in a car—well, one of those SUV things.”
“Where?” Impatience rolled off Emily.
“She passed me as I drove to town. When I looked in the rearview mirror, I saw her turn onto Seabound Road.”
“That road only goes to one place,” Emily said. She picked up one of the pictures, holding it for Madison to see. “This one.”
Their parents posed on the overlook.
32
Zander met Sheriff Greer in front of Leo’s home.
According to Isaac, Billy was hiding out three houses down from where he lived with Leo. A deputy had done a drive-by, but the house sat too far back in the tall trees to be seen from the road.
“How confident are you in your witness?” Greer asked Zander, holding his hat against the wind. Two deputies had joined them, forming a huddle in Leo’s driveway, out of sight of any cars that would pass.
Zander doubted anyone would drive down the road. The area felt deserted. Isaac had been right when he described it as isolated. Only the presence of gravel driveways that fed into the road hinted that homes even existed.
It was a good place to disappear.
He thought about how Isaac had struggled to tell him the news. As nervous as he was, Zander had seen certainty in his eyes. “He got pretty close. He was positive it was Billy.”
“The house is a rental. The owner says a young woman named Rachel Wolfe is the current renter.”
“That backs up Kyle Osburne’s suggestion that his brother might be with a girl.”
“Fifty-fifty chance that the renter was female,” Greer pointed out.
“But a young female?”
The sheriff grunted. “Wish I knew if he was armed.”
“There’s a good chance he is since he’s a suspect in Nate Copeland’s murder,” Zander said.
The two deputies muttered and shuffled their feet, shooting angry looks at the mention of their murdered coworker. The two men were young, probably in their midtwenties, and Zander hoped their emotions wouldn’t affect this outcome. The one named Daigle seemed familiar, and Zander realized he was the deputy who was to go to the beach with Nate the day he died.
“I’ve activated our SERT team,” the sheriff said. “I want them here if we confirm Billy is in that house, but it’ll take at least an hour for them to arrive. The team is made up of some of my deputies, a few Astoria officers, and Seaside officers.”
“Understood.” Impatience swamped Zander. Calling in the specialty team was the right thing to do. They knew how to handle a possible standoff or hostage situation.
“But I don’t want to wait around for them to find out the house is empty,” said Greer. “I’m always in favor of an old-fashioned knock on the door. Ninety-nine percent of the time it solves the situation.”
Zander eyed the two deputies in their heavy vests, belts, and coats. A door knock was simple, but it could turn deadly in a split second. The men looked confident, a hint of ad
renaline in their eyes. Zander felt it himself. “I’ll grab my vest.” He popped the trunk on his vehicle, stripped off his coat, and strapped on the vest. He grabbed his jacket with FBI emblazoned across the back and put it on over the vest. The evening was approaching, and he didn’t want anyone to arrive at the scene and mistake him for a suspect.
“Daigle and I will do the door knock. I’ll park in his driveway,” Greer said. “You and Edwards cover the back in case we flush him out.” Greer keyed the mic at his shoulder and relayed their plan to dispatch.
Zander and Edwards jogged down the road to get in place behind the rental home before Greer pulled in the driveway. Before they reached the third driveway, they darted off the road and into the firs that filled most of the large lot. The tree branches whistled and swished high over their heads, and the air smelled of wet dirt, that subtle odor of earthy decomposition. They silently hustled between the trunks until they sighted the back door of the home. The door opened onto a small wood deck with three stairs that led to a cleared space behind the home.
“I’ll move to the other side and let Greer know we’re in position,” Edwards said. He jogged off, and Zander stayed in position behind a fir, the door in sight. A sporadic rain of pine needles peppered him, and small branches clattered as they landed on the home’s roof. Somehow this small stretch of homes still had power. He doubted it would last long.
Lights swept over the house and trees as Greer drove up the driveway. Two car doors slammed.
Zander waited, alternating between watching the back door and watching a window on his side of the home. He listened hard, wishing he could hear voices from the front to indicate whether the operation was going smoothly or not. Edwards wasn’t visible, and Zander assumed he was covering the windows on the far side of the home as well as the back door.
Only the wind in the firs and the plinking sounds on the roof were audible.
The back door opened, and Billy Osburne took two running steps across the deck, leaped over the stairs, and made a break for the woods.
“Runner! We’ve got a runner!” Zander sprinted after him.
The ground was rough, and visibility was limited. His chest heaved as he raced as quickly as he could without tripping. He hadn’t seen a weapon in Billy’s hand, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t armed. He kept Billy in his sights, his white T-shirt a blessing in the dim woods. Ahead and to his left, he saw Edwards barreling between tree trunks. The deputy was closer.
Edwards would have notified Greer he was running. They’re probably somewhere behind us.
“Stop! Police!” Edwards shouted.
Billy paid no attention and continued his mad scramble. Zander turned up his momentum, choosing speed over safety, praying he didn’t fall.
Edwards shouted another warning.
Then Zander lost sight of Billy. He pushed forward, not slowing his pace. Ten yards ahead, Edwards rapidly covered ground in the direction where Billy had vanished.
Zander’s toe caught, and he slammed to the ground and tasted dirt. He was instantly back on his feet and scrambled to make up lost time, his hip and ribs aching where they’d landed on a rock or root. He spotted Edwards and accelerated, his breaths loud in his head.
A white blur knocked Edwards out of Zander’s view.
Billy.
He spotted Edwards on his back, Billy on top of him, his fists slamming the deputy in the face. Edwards wheezed and moaned, making no effort to stop the blows.
Got the wind knocked out of him.
Billy yanked on the officer’s weapon, and Zander dived at the man, knocking him off Edwards. Zander landed on top of Billy, slamming his stomach and head to the ground. The air in Billy’s lungs escaped with a deep woof, and he struggled to force Zander off his back.
Zander grabbed his wrist, swung his arm back until it was straight up, and twisted. Billy froze.
“Holy shit! Don’t break my arm!”
“Don’t move.” Zander kept his knee in the center of Billy’s back, and Edwards, who’d recovered, cuffed the other wrist and then the one Zander was holding. Zander got to his feet, adrenaline still pumping and breathing hard. “You okay?” he asked Edwards.
“Yeah.” The officer was sheepish. “Haven’t had the wind knocked out of me since I fell off a swing set in grade school.”
“Worst feeling ever.”
“You can’t take me in, man! You’ve got to let me go!”
“You’re joking, right?” Zander asked Billy. “We have questions about some deaths in town that I suspect only you can answer.”
“No! No, you need to let me go. He’s going to kill me.” His voice was frantic, his head whipping from side to side as he lay on the ground.
Zander made a show of scanning the woods. “Who? Edwards here? He’s a little pissed you knocked the wind out of him, but I don’t think he’ll kill you over it.”
“Not him. I’m supposed to be gone!”
“Dead gone? Or just gone gone?”
“I’ll be dead gone if he knows you’ve got me.” Billy dug his forehead into the dirt. “Dammit. This can’t be happening!”
The hairs rose on Zander’s neck. The man was scared. Who is he worried about?
“You talking about Kyle?”
“Oh shit. He’s going to kill Kyle first if he finds out I’m still around.” Billy squirmed and pulled at his wrists.
Zander exchanged a look with Edwards, who shrugged.
Greer and Daigle arrived, both blowing hard. Greer slapped Edwards on the back. “Nice job.”
“He popped out and tackled me,” Edwards admitted. “Lost my breath, and he had his hand on my weapon until Zander took him down.”
“Important part is that we have him.” Now that Billy wasn’t sprinting, Zander noticed the white T-shirt was yellowed and grimy, and his jeans were filthy. And this wasn’t from his roll on the forest floor.
“Doesn’t your girlfriend have a washing machine, Billy?”
“Fuck off.”
“Let’s go.” Greer grabbed Billy under one arm and Daigle took the other, and they hauled him to his feet.
Billy stared wild-eyed at Greer. “You’ve got to let me go, Sheriff,” he begged.
Zander started. Are those tears?
“Knock it off,” answered Greer. “We’ve got a nice clean cell just waiting for you.”
“He’s gonna kill Kyle and Rachel if he knows I’m still here!”
“Wait.” Zander stepped in front of Billy. “Rachel’s the woman at the house here, right? Who’s gonna kill her and your brother?”
He hung his head. “I can’t tell you.”
“Dammit,” said Greer. “I don’t have time for this.” He tugged on Billy’s arm.
The man started to shake, panic in his eyes, and he abruptly thrashed, breaking Greer’s hold. He took one lunging step, and Daigle neatly tripped him. Billy landed on his side and curled into a ball, still shaking.
The three men exchanged curious glances.
Is he petrified or bullshitting us?
Zander nudged him with a foot. “We can’t help Kyle if you don’t tell us what’s going on.”
Billy moaned and coiled tighter, muttering under his breath.
“What?” Zander squatted again. His legs still ached from his sprint.
“You’ve got to promise me you’ll protect Kyle and Rachel.”
“Promised.”
Billy sucked in a deep breath, and words sped out of his mouth. “I was paid to help someone with Sean, and then I was supposed to get out of town.”
Zander struggled to speak coherently. “You helped someone kill Sean. Is that what you’re saying? But not Lindsay?”
“Yeah.” Billy seemed to deflate, sinking into the dirt.
“How much were you paid to take someone’s life?” Zander spit out.
Billy turned his face into the dirt. “Two thousand dollars,” he mumbled.
Reeling, Zander stepped away, his hands going through his hair. He’s lying. He’
s got to be lying. But why? “Who was it, Billy? Who paid you?”
Billy wouldn’t look up. “I’m a dead man.”
“I’ll kill you myself if you don’t tell me what happened.” Zander’s temper hung by a thread. He sold his soul for two thousand dollars. “You’ve got two seconds.”
“Harlan Trapp.”
No one breathed.
“Bullshit,” said Greer. “You’re accusing the mayor of murder?”
Zander pictured the tall, bald man. The one who couldn’t control a community meeting.
He is our killer?
Zander struggled to wrap his mind around it.
Billy turned to look Greer in the eye. “He’s fucking evil. It was just supposed to be Sean, but then Harlan took down Lindsay too. He brutalized her.”
Greer jerked away and snarled in disgust.
“What about Nate?” asked Daigle. “Did you shoot Nate?”
Billy said nothing and curled tighter.
“You fucker!” Daigle hauled back and kicked him.
Greer and Edwards grabbed Daigle and yanked him back. Greer pushed him away with a rough shove. “Go cool off. If I see or hear of you doing that again, you’re out of a job.” Daigle lurched toward a fir, slammed a hand against it, bent over, and vomited.
The other three men turned away.
“I’m not lying about Harlan,” Billy said in a broken voice from the ground. “He’s psychotic. He threatened to kill Kyle if I also didn’t take care of Nate. He thinks Nate saw us at Sean’s.”
“What about Emily Mills? Does he want Emily dead too?” Zander could barely breathe. “Did you shoot at Emily and Ava McLane yesterday?”
“He didn’t say anything to me about Emily. And I don’t know the other person you said.”
“Why did Harlan want Sean killed?” Zander asked Billy, wincing as Daigle retched again.
“Dunno.”
“You helped him kill a man and don’t know why?” said Greer.
“He said Sean knew about him.”
“Knew what about him?”
“Dunno.”
Zander wanted to kick Billy himself.
The Last Sister Page 24