Girls In White Dresses: A Detective London McKenna Novel

by Alex Gates

  “No.”

  “He feared Jonah would ruin everything. He had to stop them before Rachel told the world that she had been raped.”

  “Stop!”

  “Eve, I’m begging you. Just tell the truth. No harm will come to you. Jacob believed that Rachel had to die before she destroyed everything. Cora knew too much and had to be killed too. And Jonah…he was too far gone to be saved. To protect the family, Jacob killed his own son.”

  Anna’s expression darkened, but she weakened, sputtering in breathless weeping. “You don’t understand. Jacob couldn’t have done this. He wouldn’t hurt anyone!”

  “Really?” I pulled the hand-stitched teddy bear from my bag and tossed it on the table. The evidence bag wasn’t the safest container, but I’d wanted her to see. “Your husband sent this as a warning to my family. After he slashed the tires on my car, filled the inside with blood, and painted a bloody threat on my door.”

  Anna said nothing.

  Her hands trembled. She clutched the table. The chair nearly slipped out from under her, but she didn’t catch herself.

  She stared only at the teddy bear.

  “Jacob attempted to murder your biological sister. He set her house on fire with her inside simply because she came to me and begged for help to rescue you.”

  “…No.”

  “And this?” I tugged on the bag. “This was sent to my four-year-old niece. It’s stuffed with glass.”

  “G—glass?”

  “She spent the night in the hospital. It sliced her wrist. She’s still in stitches.”

  Anna stumbled. I rushed forward, catching her, taking the baby before she tumbled.

  “Mariam!” I handed the baby to the girl. “Take her. Get me a bottle of water.”

  Mariam stared with wide-eyes but said nothing. Never did, poor thing. Only cried.

  I knelt beside Anna, offering her the water. She wouldn’t drink. I forced it to her lips, tipping enough to wet her tongue.

  “Do you see now?” I asked. “I have to stop him.”

  “I know this bear.”

  My chest tightened. I expected as much. “Did you make it?”

  “Yes.” Her voice faded, weak and muffled and so very far away. “I’ve made these.”

  “Eve, you’re not in trouble for sewing the bear. But I need your help before someone else gets hurt. Before anyone else dies.”

  She reached for the bear, but I took it off of her before she hugged the glass too close to her chest. Her motions slogged, as if she were drunk.

  Or remembering.

  She struggled to breathe. “I know this bear.”

  “It’s okay. You never meant to hurt anyone.”

  “No…I didn’t…this pattern…” Tears rolled over her cheeks. “I used to make this pattern when I was a girl.”

  “I thought you didn’t talk about your past, Eve.”

  “Eve?” She stared at me, her face pale and sweaty. “That’s…not my name. I’m not Eve. My name is Anna Prescott. And…” She took the bear, turning it in her hands. “I used to make these bears with my sister when we were kids. Our grandmother taught us…”

  My stomach twisted. Anna gripped my arm, crushing it as a wracking sob tore through her body.

  “Oh my God…” Her words pinched with terror. “I have a sister.”

  “Anna, did you make this bear?”

  “Long ago.”

  “Did you sew one last week?”

  She stared at the stuffed animal. “Haven’t made one since I was a little girl…”

  This bear wasn’t a craft made years ago. The material was still taut, the stitching tight, the stuffing smelling of processed textiles. This bear had been sewn recently.

  I sat back, kneeling on the floor. Her words washed over me.

  Anna used to make the teddy bears at home.

  She hadn’t made this bear. But I knew who did.

  Anna Prescott had a sister.

  And now? I had a new suspect.

  28

  If you don’t love yourself, no one else will.

  Does anyone care about you?

  -Him

  Louisa greeted me with a deceiver’s smile.

  The bubbly excitement bled into her voice, manic and amazed.

  “Can I see Anna now?” She took my hand. I dropped it immediately. “Please. Where’s my sister? You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment.”

  She’d waited exactly long enough for the desperation to overwhelm her rationality.

  Anna wasn’t at the station to meet her sister. I’d already threatened to arrest her husband and family. The last thing I wanted to do was ruin the few good memories she had of her prior life.

  “Let’s talk, Louisa.”

  I led her into the interview room. She slid right into the chair, tapping her fingers against the chipping, wooden table.

  How many times did I have her in here?

  How many times had she completely manipulated me?

  How many times had she lied to my face?

  “Is she okay?” Louisa bit her lip. Innocent? Hardly. “I’m getting my house ready for guests. I know she has a baby with her. And the little girl too. What’s her name? Mary?”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

  “Oh, I’m sure we’ll have custody battles. I read it in the newspaper.”

  An unfortunate leak that needed to be plugged. The phones had run off the hooks, frightened mothers pleading with me to check again and make sure their child wasn’t one of the girls pulled from the farm. Every family missing a daughter seemed to call…except for the parents of the children Jacob had taken.

  Maybe Anna was right. Maybe the girls were the unwanted ones, neglected and forgotten. That didn’t help me. In fact, it only served to push them deeper into those bastards’ arms.

  “This isn’t about Anna.” I didn’t bother taking the other chair. I stood, arms crossed, trying too damn hard to keep my temper in check and not choke on my own bitterness. “Let’s talk about you.”

  “Me?”

  “Got anything you’d like to say?”

  Louisa pushed a hand through lively curls, careful not to touch her face or ruin the professional salon’s hairstyling. The return of her sister hadn’t made her a new woman—just a visit to Macy’s makeup counter. With a little foundation, a lifetime of sorrows faded under a layer of creamy beige.

  “I’m not sure what’s happening…” Louisa grinned. “Detective, why aren’t you thrilled? We saved everyone!”

  “We?”

  “Well, you. You put your life on the line for Anna—”

  “So…now my safety concerns you?”

  She paused. “Excuse me?”

  I didn’t have all the proof, but my gut wasn’t wrong. I gave her only enough rope to hang herself, even if I planned to tighten that noose myself.

  “Come on, Louisa.” I gave her a shrug. “Drop the act.”

  “What act?”

  “You played me once, and I let it go. I figured I’d do you a favor. I had to save those girls, whatever the cost. You took advantage of that.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I know what really happened. Now I want to hear it from you.”

  “Hear what?” she asked.

  “The truth.”

  Louisa shifted. The chair creaked, and panic flashed over her face. It wasn’t an interrogation room, but the closed door and lack of windows probably felt like a prison to a pathological liar caught in her own web.

  “See, we’ve got a problem.” I took my time. I thought I’d enjoy watching her squirm, tasting the guilt like a juicy, ripe strawberry. Instead, her denial irritated me like a seed caught in my teeth. “I know who’s been threatening me. And I know who attacked you.” I pulled the teddy bear and a manila folder from my bag. “And I know who sent this vile toy to my four-year-old niece.”

  Louisa’s expression didn’t waver. Was she that skilled a liar? “It was Jacob Goodman.�
�

  “Nope. Couldn’t have been Jacob. He was too busy screwing your sister.”

  “Don’t…” Her words clipped. “How can you say that?”

  “He has a busy life on that farm. Works the fields in the day. Keeps an eye on the books every evening. Then every night, he beds your sister over and over again.”

  “Stop it!”

  “Forces her into bed.”

  “Don’t, Detective!”

  “For fifteen years, he took all he wanted from her…” The words disgusted me, but Louisa kicked her chair back. Her face twisted in a dark, devious rage. “She was his wife, after all. And hell, after that long? She probably got used to it. Might have even started anticipating his needs.”

  “Enough!” Louisa covered her ears, the only reason she hadn’t lunged for my throat. “I should cut your tongue out, you disgusting bitch!”

  She didn’t expect my grin. I softened my voice. Felt like introductions were in order once again.

  “And there you are…” I said. “The real Louisa Prescott.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Don’t insult me. You weren’t innocent when you walked into this office, and you sure as hell aren’t now.” I pointed to the chair. “Sit your ass down.”

  “I want to see my sister!”

  “You should have thought about that before pissing with me, Miss Prescott.” I didn’t let her look away. My stare burned just as hot as hers. “Sit. Down.”

  Louisa sneered, but she surrendered, plunking into the wooden seat. “You can’t find Jacob Goodman, so you’re taking your frustration out on me? Go ahead. What do you want to know? Nothing I say will help you find the asshole who kidnapped and raped my sister.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short. You did find Jacob Goodman before. And your sister. For years, you knew exactly what’s happened at Harvest Dominion Farm. You tried to get her out.”

  “Is that a crime?”

  “No. That’s being a loving sister…” I said “The crimes started when you realized you couldn’t save her without convincing people to help.”

  Her lips pressed into a thin line. “What do you want me to say? I worried about Anna. I never stopped worrying about her. You think I was going to let that monster destroy her? I had to do something.”

  “But you couldn’t save her. You couldn’t even get close to the farm. No one believed you.” I lowered my voice, circling the table. “So, you decided to make them believe.”

  Louisa said nothing. The panic and outrage, hysteria and timid fear blinked away. The stare that remained turned cold. Hostile.

  Proud.

  I hadn’t seen it before—that cruel manipulation hidden so well within the panicked and flighty persona she’d adopted. The Louisa Prescott that sobbed in my office and begged for her sister’s life was as fake as Eve Goodman.

  “No one in Forest County could help you free your sister, so you came back to the city,” I said. “You studied the Goodmans’ patterns. Learned they came in every few weeks to drop off produce and furniture. How long did you stalk them before you got your break?”

  “Years.”

  “You had to wait until Jonah Goodman was killed,” I said. “That was your chance. You knew we’d find out who he was. You knew you could connect Anna’s case to him, and we’d be swept into the middle of a massive investigation into the family.”

  “Yes.”

  “How did you know he was dead?”

  “I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  I wasn’t, but it was good to know. “You still knew.”

  “I tailed them. All of them. When I realized Jacob Goodman’s youngest son was having an affair, I thought it was my chance for revenge. Jacob was losing control, and I loved to watch him suffer. That pride will be the death of him.”

  “You never thought to kill him?”

  “Believe me, I had my chances.” Her voice roughened, tough and unfamiliar. “But death is too easy a punishment for them. The Goodmans deserve jail—where they’ll be forced against their will just like they forced all those girls.”

  “So instead you pointed me at them.” I opened the folder, revealing both the fire marshal’s report and the forensics on the casings found at the scene. “Seems like you have a couple guns registered under your name. Coincidentally, the bullet fired through your living room window? A .45. You have a .45, don’t you?”

  Louisa didn’t even look at the report. She stayed silent.

  Fine. I’d do the talking for once.

  And I’d get my answers.

  “Strange thing about the fire too. Started in the basement. Couple rags. A little kerosene. Same materials you had on hand. Plus, there was no sign of forced entry on your basement door. No broken windows. No other ways for a Goodman to enter your home.”

  “Say it.”

  “You fired the shot through your own window. Called me. Then went downstairs and set the fire so that when I arrived the flames would just be starting and…” I shrugged. “You pretended that you were in danger so I’d think that the Goodmans were targeting you.”

  “I feared for my life.”

  I showed her the pictures of my Jeep. “And I’m still dreading what the repairs on my car will cost. It’s trashed. Can’t get the blood out of the fabric. Needed four new tires. Jeeps aren’t cheap, Louisa. Did you fear for your life when you vandalized my property?”

  “Detective—”

  “Did you fear for your life when you sent this to my niece?” I pitched the teddy bear towards the end of the table. “You nearly took off her finger.”

  Louisa gave an irritated sigh. “Oh, don’t overreact, Detective. Your family was always safe. My sister was the one in danger.”

  “And that gives you the right to file false reports? You started a fire in your parents’ old home. Intimidated and threatened a police officer. You assaulted a child!” I couldn’t hide the rage grinding my voice. “Why?”

  She didn’t apologize.

  Offered no remorse. No shame.

  “Because you were the only one I could make listen.”

  “Me?”

  “You were the perfect detective for the job.”

  “Why?”

  She scrunched her nose. “Because it’s you. London McKenna. There’s no way in hell you’d ever let a little girl get captured by a big, bad man. How could you resist a case like this? With your history, I knew you’d be the first officer to give a damn.”

  “Any cop would have helped you.”

  “That’s not true.” She leaned forward, her palms flat on the table, as if pleading with me to understand the greatest insult I’d ever heard. “Everyone knows your story. They remember the case. The Rustbelt Sadist? You escaped a brutal serial killer who kept you imprisoned for weeks. When I saw your name in the paper and read that you had become a detective? It was fate.”

  “My kidnapping and torture was fate?”

  “Yes.” She answered truthfully, coldly. “You were the only one who’d understand. The only one who’d help.”

  “I would have helped without your provocation.” That was the sick part. “Your sister did need help. I would have saved them without you targeting me.”

  “I couldn’t take the chance anymore. It’s been fifteen years, Detective. It was time my sister came home.”

  “And for what?” I grabbed the handcuffs on my belt. Louisa offered her wrists willingly. “Do you even realize the trouble you’re in? Sure, you’ve saved your sister. But at what cost? Now you’re the one going to prison.”

  “Anna spent fifteen years in captivity.” Louisa’s voice warmed only over her sister’s name. “It should have been me.”

  “What?”

  She spoke pain. True pain. Soul-wrenching, without even the comfort of tears. Her eyes rose to mine.

  “He meant to take me.”

  I froze. “What are you talking about?”

  “That day. On the sidewalk. Jacob came afte
r me. I’m younger than Anna. She already had become a woman. I was still waiting, and I looked it. He reached for me…but I bit him. Hard. Kicked and screamed. Anna was too scared to move.” She trembled, hard. “And so I pushed her.”

  “Away from Jacob?”

  The slow shake of her head revealed a secret Louisa kept her entire life.

  “I pushed her towards Jacob.” Her voice cracked. “And then I ran.”

  “And Jacob took her instead.”

  “I lived free for fifteen years while my sister suffered a fate that should have been mine.”

  “Louisa—”

  “Don’t you see? I had no choice. I had to do anything I could to get her back. Anything. I didn’t care who I hurt, what I destroyed. I had to save her. It never should have been her.”

  “But your house…my car…my niece.”

  “It worked.” She actually smiled. “I don’t care what happens to me. Now Anna has a chance to live a real life. You have my gratitude, Detective.”

  In a terrible, heart-breaking way, I understood her.

  I took her hand, hating her, hating myself, hating what the Goodmans did to so many innocent lives.

  “And you have the right to remain silent.”

  29

  A pretty girl like you should have been loved.

  You should always feel loved before you die.

  -Him

  James and I never had a formal dinner at home.

  We’d gone out plenty of times. Ordered pizza more nights than I could count. But we didn’t really eat together. No coming home from work to a plate of spaghetti and hunk of garlic bread.

  So I boiled the water. Dumped the noodles. Cracked open a jar of sauce. I’m sure he would have preferred a couple meatballs in his meal, but he never minded going vegetarian for me.

  I was beginning to think he’d do anything for me.

  “Either you have something good to tell me…” James hid his smile as he sipped his wine. “Or you’ve poisoned the food. Though that might be an improvement from your usual cooking.