Nate nods. “He’s convinced he has God on his side, and unfortunately, he might be right.”
“What do you mean?”
He hesitates before responding. “Once I was released, my lawyers told me not to bother chasing after him. They said that even if I caught him and he was finally charged with Stacey’s murder, no jury would convict a priest with a whole congregation willing to testify about what a good man he is, especially not when I make a better suspect. Apparently they wouldn’t want to believe a man of God was capable of it.”
“But you were training to be a priest, so how come they convicted you?”
“Because the prosecution made out I was evil. They said I swapped God for sex. That I’d been turned by the devil and I willingly let him in. They only just stopped short of calling me a devil worshipper. They even said I’d used my belief in God as a ruse to get close to Stacey and ruin her. But the crazy thing is that Stacey and I never had sex during the two years we knew each other. We were both virgins when she was killed. We were trying to abide by the Bible we both believed in.”
Madison is surprised, then angry. “You’ve got to give it to them.” She shakes her head in disgust as she stubs her finished cigarette out on the table. “Prosecutors should be writers, seeing as the majority of their cases are built on fiction.”
Nate continues. “The police now have evidence to prove Father Connor killed Stacey, but my lawyers said it’s more than likely any jury would overlook it because he’s been an upstanding member of the community and has given his life to serving Jesus and helping those less fortunate than himself. They thought the best I could hope for—if we ever found him—was an involuntarily manslaughter charge and a suspended sentence. How fucked up is that?”
He’s getting angrier the more he talks about it, and she can tell his old resentments are coming to the surface.
“As much as it pains me to say it, Nate, they’re probably right. His defense team would sure as hell try to pick strongly religious jurors.”
“That’s not difficult in Texas. You know, if he got off based on his religious beliefs that would be worse than never finding him in the first place. Because he doesn’t even believe in God. He can’t do or he wouldn’t have committed murder. His supposed faith is just a mask to hide the evil inside him.”
“I agree. And at least while he’s on the run he’s looking over his shoulder, waiting for you to appear. That kind of life will grind him down and ruin any chance he has of moving on. He’ll never be able to relax. He’ll never be able to forget what he did to Stacey.” She hesitates. “So where does all this leave you? Do you still believe in God?”
He turns away, looking at the sunrise.
“I don’t know. It’s complicated.”
She feels sorry for him. It’s clear that Father Connor didn’t just steal Nate’s life. He stole his faith too. She watches as he feels for the rosary beads around his neck. She’d bet there’s a story behind those beads, as he seems to use them for comfort.
He turns to face her, looking like he wants to confess something.
“When I find him… Madison, I want you to know I won’t be turning him over to the police.”
She immediately realizes what he’s implying, and a feeling of dread creeps through her. As someone who wants to return to the force, she can’t condone murder and she can’t be a part of it. But she does want to see justice for Nate and his dead fiancée. “That would put you right back on death row,” she says.
He smiles at her. “Only if they find his body.”
She finds herself smiling back at him, and is surprised at her own reaction.
Seventeen
November 2000—Austin, Texas
The day of the verdict comes as a relief to Nate. He’s sick of being paraded in front of the jury every day. He’s also fed up of listening to the lies Stacey’s uncle tells about him: about how Stacey had never even tried a drop of alcohol until she met Nate. That is completely untrue, and Father Connor knows it.
Nate’s also worried about his own father and the impact all this is having on him. Every day his dad loyally sits behind him and the defense team. His hands are permanently folded to hide the trembling and a look of weary contempt remains in place for the prosecutors, but listening to all the lies told about his son is clearly difficult for him. Nate’s siblings refused to attend the trial, already condemning him, so he relies on his dad’s support to get him through the long, frustrating days.
It’s only when Nate looks at Stacey’s mom that he feels anything other than horror and fear. Instead, he feels anger and disappointment. Deborah won’t make eye contact with him. A slim, meek woman at the best of times, she appears even slimmer by the end of the trial. She’s been dominated and overshadowed by her older brother the whole time Nate has known them. Publicly she’d agree with his outdated sermons, but in private she was different. She would make dinner for Stacey and Nate at the beginning of their friendship, during his first year at the University of Texas. She welcomed him with open arms and sat on the couch watching comedies with them at the weekend. She appeared to like him, or so he thought.
When she took the stand and made up multiple stories about how she’d witnessed Nate hitting her daughter, he knew then that she was never religious. If she was, she wouldn’t have lied under oath. Just like her brother, Deborah was living the worst possible lie: pretending to be an upstanding, law-abiding member of the community whilst breaking every rule in the Bible whenever it suited her.
When Nate had proposed to Stacey on her twentieth birthday, she’d wanted to keep their engagement a secret. She knew her uncle would ruin it somehow. They’d told Deborah, but she shared Stacey’s pessimism.
“We want you to settle down with someone who shares our religion,” she’d told her daughter. “Someone who isn’t an atheist. No offense, Nathaniel.”
“I’m not an atheist, Deborah. I changed my mind about becoming a priest, but not about God. My faith is real,” he’d said, frustrated that he had to keep explaining this. He had hoped Deborah would be glad for them since she could see how happy they were together.
“It’s up to me who I marry, Mom,” said Stacey. “I love Nate and no one will ever compare to him in my eyes. You’ll both realize that eventually.”
Deborah had smiled at them, but it was a sad smile. One that showed no hope for their plans.
As he watches the jury file in from outside, Nate wonders whether that was the moment he should have walked out of their lives. To stop the madness that was about to happen.
Eighteen
After an early breakfast at a local diner, Madison is feeling anxious. She’s craving another cigarette—hell, a pack of them—but she’s only recently managed to reduce the twenty-a-day habit she picked up in prison.
She’s worried about what Nate told her. She’s worried about the implications for her. Will his showdown with Father Connor happen in her presence? Will she have to testify against him? Will she be responsible for putting him back on death row? It’s not even just what he’s planning. What he told her has made her think about the consequences of looking into her own case. What exactly is she planning to do when she finds out who framed her? What if she doesn’t get exonerated? Would she kill for revenge?
She tries not to think that far ahead. One thing at a time. It’s a relief to have this new case to work on. It will buy her time while she figures things out in her head.
To relieve some of her anxiety, she decides to get a few things clear between her and Nate before they reach the summer camp and begin their investigation.
“So, what’s the deal here?” she asks. “Am I officially working for you now? I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but allowing you to pay for my meals is making me uncomfortable.” She pushes away her plate of half-eaten eggs and wipes her mouth with a napkin. “It would be different if I was on your payroll and it was considered expenses.”
Nate smiles and finishes his coffee. He pushes his cup away an
d leans back on the diner’s leather bench. “Tell me if this works for you. I’m happy to cover basic living expenses—hotel rooms, food, gas, et cetera—and any expenses that come up as a result of our investigations, but you don’t get a percentage on top of that until you find a case of your own. Consider the Jennifer Lucas case a training session for you to learn how investigators do things differently to cops, because we are different and a lot of people are more willing to open up to someone without a police badge. Then, assuming we’re still getting along okay, we can split the cases between us so we’re not stuck together all the time. How does that sound?”
She doesn’t even have to think about it; it’s the best job opportunity she’s likely to find until she can get her conviction overturned. “Deal.”
It means she can keep her own money safe for other things. She doesn’t agree that people are more willing to trust PIs than cops, though. After all, PIs get paid more and are usually motivated solely by money. She’s yet to figure out what motivates Nate, considering money isn’t an issue. “Do I get a uniform?” She grins.
He laughs, surprised. “If you want a uniform, we need to come up with a name for my new business so I can get it stitched on.”
“I’ll have a think about that.” She downs the rest of her coffee and they head out to the car.
As Nate pulls away from the diner, he says, “There’s a brand-new cell phone in the glove box if you need it.”
She looks at him. “Is it a burner phone?”
He nods. “I always like to have a spare lying around. Just in case.”
She retrieves it from the glove box and switches it on. It’s cheap, but it’ll do. “Thanks.” She hasn’t had a phone since her release from prison. It was a luxury she just couldn’t afford. All her research and personal affairs have been done using the local library’s PC, so she’s looking forward to having internet access again.
“The cell number is on the box.” He points to it.
She tears off the piece of cardboard with her new number on and asks Nate for his. Once she’s saved it, she enters a few others that she remembers by heart. Whether or not they’re still valid remains to be seen.
Nate switches the radio on low while he drives, but the signal is weak out here in the forest, so he quickly turns it off.
It’s not long before they come across a road sign for Camp Fearless. It’s practically the only business in Shadow Falls, apart from a small Main Street they drive through on the way, and a gas station. Having grown up in small-town Colorado, Madison feels at home in towns like this.
“Did you grow up in Texas?” she asks.
“No. I’m from Kansas originally. I actually picked Texas for its university, rather than its infamous death row.” He smiles. “I hated it there until I met Stacey. She changed my life in many ways.”
He doesn’t volunteer any more details, so she doesn’t ask. They drive through the dense forest made up of countless redwood trees. Madison opens her window and sticks her head out, trying to see the tops of the trees, but they stretch upwards as far as city skyscrapers and she can’t crane her neck back far enough. “Amazing.”
“Check those out.” Nate points to a herd of deer running through the trees off to the left.
She watches them in awe, taking in their beautiful chestnut color.
“I’d bet there are bears here too,” he says.
She’d be less excited to see a bear.
After about ten minutes of admiring the incredible forest that serves as a long, secluded driveway, they spot some wooden signposts for the campsite buildings and parking lot. Nate pulls into a parking space—there are plenty to choose from—and they leave the cool interior of the car to step into the already rising humidity.
Madison follows him to the camp’s entrance. There is a large archway made out of dead wood with the camp’s name engraved and painted across the top. She finds it kind of eerie. Partly because it looks like it was made by kids, like some sort of pet cemetery, and partly because someone has scratched out the “less” part of Fearless, making it Camp Fear instead. Other than that, the location looks idyllic in the morning’s summer sunshine. It’s a large wooded area with cabins covered in bunting and noticeboards showcasing all the activities going on. The birdsong is strangely relaxing.
There’s a large campfire area to the left and picnic tables off to the right, near the lake, which has some small boats tied to the jetty. Madison can hear the sound of kids enjoying themselves out in the wild. It strikes her as having a business-as-usual feel, as if a child going missing is perfectly normal in these parts.
She never attended summer camp—she didn’t have that type of childhood—but she can see the appeal for kids. As an adult—or maybe just because she was a cop—this place looks almost too idyllic. The perfect place for something bad to happen.
The sound of children’s laughter makes her think of her son. Did Owen get to attend summer camp while she was locked up? She pushes away the thought that she might never know.
A group of children run out from the woods and over to the largest cabin. They all have painted animal faces, and a tired-looking young woman dressed in a purple T-shirt and white shorts jogs behind them.
“Don’t forget to wash your hands first!” she yells.
While Nate stops to look around and take it all in, Madison turns toward the lake, where Jenny was last seen alive. What seems to be a new makeshift fence blocks off the wooden jetty. Maybe the staff have cordoned it off in case any other kids go missing. If so, someone in charge clearly believes she drowned. The lake isn’t as vast as Madison was expecting. If the local PD sent divers down, it’s likely they would’ve found Jenny’s body if it had been in there. In her experience that means the girl was abducted. Which also means that everyone here is a potential suspect.
The glare of the sunshine bouncing off the lake is giving her a headache, even with her new sunglasses on, and she remembers why she’s never been a fan of summer. She hates having to wear bug repellent and sunscreen, and the high temperatures drive her insane. It would sound crazy to most people, but Madison would much rather be wrapped up against a harsh winter. She waves away a persistent bug that’s trying to bite her, and then watches a woman approach them.
The woman looks mad.
Nineteen
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” says someone behind Nate. Then the tone of voice changes abruptly. “Oh, wait. Are you Billy’s parents?”
Nate spins around and looks at the small woman. She has a strained smile on her face and is shielding her eyes from the sun with her left hand. She is carrying a clipboard close to her chest.
“No, I’m Nate Monroe and this is Madison, my associate. We’re here to look into the disappearance of Jennifer Lucas.”
The woman’s smile quickly fades and she immediately folds both arms over the clipboard. “Oh. Jeez, what now? Haven’t we told you everything already?”
“We’re not police, ma’am. We’re here on behalf of Jenny’s family. They’ve asked us to look a little closer into her disappearance. I’m sure you can understand they’ll do anything to find their daughter.”
She still looks annoyed, but she stares past Nate’s shoulder toward the lake. “She’s down there, I just know it.”
He follows her gaze.
“Can we have your name?” asks Madison.
The woman looks at her. “I’m Donna Gleeson, camp director. I’m the one who called the police when we realized Jenny was missing. I reacted as quickly as I could. There really wasn’t much else I could do.”
Just then a car pulls up and a young couple get out and rush over to them. “Are you Donna? Is Billy ready?” asks the woman.
Donna’s smile is back. “Yes, just head into the office. Kat will sort you out. I really wish you weren’t taking him home early, though. He was doing so well and he loves it here.”
The couple glance at Nate and Madison and whisper something to Donna.
“T
hat was an unfortunate accident,” she says in response. “Billy has coped very well. We hope to see him again next summer.”
“Did your son know Jenny Lucas well?” asks Nate.
Billy’s dad shoots him a look of contempt. “What’s it to you?”
Donna shoos Billy’s parents away in the direction of the main office before turning back to Nate.
“Please don’t cause any more problems for us. We’ve already lost nine children early over this. Once news got out to the parents that a child had gone missing, they started panicking and taking their kids home. I managed to talk some of them out of it, but they’re still coming to collect the children early and demanding refunds for the time they’ll miss. I think some of the older kids are scaring the younger ones with stories of monsters in the woods. It’s making them want to go home.”
Nate feels for her. Negative publicity can kill a business like this.
“Sounds to me like you’re more interested in profits than a child’s life.”
They both turn to look at Madison. Nate was worried this might happen. Once a cop, always a cop. He steps in before Donna can explode, which, judging by how red her face has gone, she’s not far off.
“Can we talk somewhere in private?” he asks her. “I want to get the details straight, because so far I’ve only heard what happened through third parties.”
Donna nods.
“Madison, would you take a look around while I talk to the director?” He’s assuming she’ll realize he wants her to scope the place out and talk to any willing kids before Donna censors them.
Madison agrees. “I need to find a bathroom anyway.”
Donna points past the main office. “You’ll find the cafeteria back there too. You’ll have to pay for your food and drinks; we can’t afford to offer charity to strangers.”
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