Today, Nate doesn’t answer back. He stays quiet as he follows Gus, glancing in at his fellow death row inmates as he passes their cells. They’re all either asleep or listening to the radio, subdued into a non-existence. He doesn’t know why the state drags out their deaths for so long. He’s the only one here who stays physically active, but some days he doesn’t know why he bothers. Exercising daily in his cell doesn’t undo the damage of breathing in the same recycled air over and over and eating the crap they serve that is trying so hard to make him obese. He carefully reads every legal document he’s given, just in case he finds something that will get his sentence overturned, but that’s what every other guy in here does and it rarely happens. The system is stacked against them.
The last cell is empty. Fred Oslo was executed two nights ago. His belongings are piled into a corner, ready for the dumpster. Word on death row is that no one claimed his body, so he was buried out in Peckerwood Hill—the prison cemetery—with just a number on a stone to identify him and an “X” to show he was executed. Now that both of Nate’s parents are dead—his dad died two years after he was convicted—there’s no one to claim his body after execution. It’s a bitter pill to swallow to think he’ll be buried out there with serial killers and child rapists. His brother and sister gave up on him the night he was arrested and he’s not seen or heard from them since. He sometimes wonders if they were relieved to have a reason not to stay in touch. They were never close.
Gus opens the door of the tired-looking meeting room and a woman glances up from behind the metal table. She smiles so widely anyone would think they already know each other.
Nate’s handcuffs are secured to the table. This is the room where he meets his lawyer. It’s the only reprieve he gets from his cell, apart from showers and minimal solo recreation time in a cage not much bigger than his cell.
“If you need me, ma’am, I’ll be right outside. Just holler nice and loud,” says Gus.
She gives him an icy stare. “I’ll be fine.”
Gus shakes his head on his way out and mumbles something like “ungrateful bitch” under his breath.
Nate inspects the woman in front of him. She’s younger than he expected. Her hair is black and curly and she’s wearing reading glasses.
“Thanks for your letter,” he says.
She leans in and touches his hand; the first person to voluntarily do so in fifteen years. It awakens a part of him that yearns for human affection. Something he learned to ignore years ago. Her skin is warm and soft. Her nails aren’t painted; instead they’re bitten down to the quick.
“You’re more than welcome, Nate. Can I call you Nate?”
He nods. She has a soft French accent, mixed with a Texas twang.
“As I said in my letter, I’m Kristen Devereaux and I lecture at the University of Texas school of law. Part of my teaching involves studying real trials in order to show my students where the attorneys and police may have gone wrong, or where the law wasn’t followed precisely. As you can imagine, being based here in the state of Texas keeps us very busy.”
Nate finds himself smiling at her joke. “I’ll bet.”
“Your case was given to me randomly, and my students and I felt something was wrong from the very beginning.”
He lowers his head. Is someone finally going to do something about his wrongful conviction? He feels the build-up of years of emotion threatening to spill out, so he squeezes his eyes tight shut.
Kristen puts both her hands on top of his now. “I understand. I’ve been here before with other death row inmates. I can’t promise you a happy ending, but my students and I believe we can fight for you. All we need is your permission.”
Nate looks up at her and nods. “You have my permission to do whatever you’ve got to do. Just get me out of here.” His shoulders sink. “Please.”
Thirty-Four
Madison and Nate grab lunch to go, because the cafeteria is full of loud, excitable kids. Plus, it’s stuffy in there. The mixture of heat, sweat and food makes Madison feel sick. They sit on the grass by the lake, and Madison tells him she discovered Jenny didn’t actually go swimming before she disappeared.
Nate considers it, then tells her about Esme’s theory. “She didn’t agree that Jenny was a liar, but she did admit she gets bullied at school because she’s one of those smart and sensitive kids. When pressed about what she thinks has happened to her, she said it’s got to be someone here who has her. She’s convinced Jenny’s still alive.” He bites into a warm patty.
“Of course she is,” says Madison, dipping into a bowl of pasta. “She’s not going to want to believe the worst. Families of missing children never do. That makes it all the more difficult when you have to finally deliver the bad news. I forgot to ask Morgan if he checked Jenny’s social media accounts. Maybe she agreed to meet up with someone she thought was around her age but he turned out to be an old fat guy.”
“No,” says Nate. “I asked Esme and she said Jenny wasn’t on Facebook or anything like that. She said Anna was strict about that kind of stuff.”
Madison rolls her eyes. “As if the grandmother would know!” She has to remember that Nate has no experience of kids and what they get up to. “Listen: just because they think she isn’t online doesn’t mean she’s not got at least one account. Believe it or not, kids are great at keeping secrets.” She sighs. “But I guess Morgan would have already checked that out. And it’ll show up on her phone records when the data comes back.”
They both watch as two young girls approach. They’re holding hands and can’t be more than ten years old. They could even be sisters, except for their differing hair color. They come close but don’t speak; they just stare. It’s kind of freaky.
“Hi, girls. How are you?” asks Madison.
They don’t smile. The girl with long dark hair plucks up the courage to speak first. “Are you going to bring Jenny back?”
Madison looks at Nate, unsure how to respond, so he speaks up. “We’re hoping to. Why? Do you miss her?”
The blonde girl shakes her head vigorously, but her friend drops her hand and says, “Don’t be mean.”
“Did you not like Jenny?” Nate asks the blonde girl.
“No. She used to scare me and make me cry.”
“But you’re a cry-baby,” says the brunette. “Jenny was my friend. I liked her. I wish she’d taken me with her.”
Madison wonders if these girls know something. “Do you know where she went?”
The brunette shakes her head. “No. But she said there were monsters in the woods. She said they tried to get in our cabins at night to eat us.”
The blonde girl puts her hands over her ears. “Natalie, don’t!”
Natalie rolls her eyes at her friend. “You’re going against the camp motto; we’re supposed to be fearless. Remember?” She turns back to Nate and Madison. “Jenny was just trying to scare us, I think. Do you know if there are monsters in the woods?”
“Oh honey,” says Madison. “There aren’t monsters anywhere. No one out here will hurt you.”
The girl narrows her eyes like she’s trying to figure out if she’s being lied to. “How do you know? I’ve heard the whispering voices; we all have. There’s something in the woods and it’s got Jenny.”
“No,” says Nate. “What sounds like whispering voices is just the leaves of the trees rubbing together in the wind. There’s nothing in the woods. The police have checked the whole area. There’s nothing but squirrels, trees and birds. You’re safe here.”
Natalie shakes her head. She looks disappointed. Madison can’t figure out if that’s because she wants to see monsters or because she thinks Nate’s lying to her.
“That’s not what the voices say.” She abruptly spins around and walks off, dragging her friend with her.
Nate looks at Madison and grins. “Kids just love me.”
“Clearly.” She looks after them. “It’s starting to sound like Jenny could’ve been a bit of a troublemaker; trying
to scare the younger kids with stories of monsters and whispering voices. Maybe she was being bullied herself and taking her anger out on them. Or maybe she was genuinely afraid of something.”
All of a sudden Brody runs over to Nate, sniffing the second burger he’s about to eat. He pulls it away from the dog.
“Don’t be cruel, let him have it,” says Madison.
“But I’m hungry!”
Brody sits, offers his paw and then barks. Nate rolls his eyes and holds out the burger. “Fine. Here you go.” The patty is gone within seconds and Brody looks at him for more. “Sorry. That was the last one.” He turns to Madison. “I’m glad I’ve already eaten the bacon.”
The dog lies down next to him on the grass and all three of them watch the kids and counselors coming and going from the cafeteria and various cabins. The kids are quieter now they’ve eaten. They were pretty loud last night. Madison could hear them squealing in both delight and fear as they listened to ghost stories around the campfire. It sounded like Kat was doing some outlandish storytelling and she’s surprised Donna lets her add to the kids’ fear. But she also knows how much kids love ghost stories.
“Esme said the police told Grant and Anna not to come to the camp,” says Nate. “Detective Morgan had them conduct all their meetings at the police station. Why would he do that?”
She places her empty bowl on the grass and swaps it for a mug of coffee, picking out a stray bug that’s floating on top. “He would’ve wanted to preserve the crime scene. There are already too many people walking around here, contaminating it. If they’d found the girl dead somewhere, he would’ve needed to test every single item found here. The fewer people at the site, the quicker the elimination process.”
“Is that a cop thing?” he asks.
She looks at him. “What?”
“The way you depersonalize the victim by referring to her as ‘the girl’ instead of using her actual name?”
She’s annoyed. He’s being judgmental. “Maybe we need to do that, what with the high volume of missing and deceased kids we have to deal with before returning home to our own after a sixteen-hour shift. Have you ever thought about that?”
He looks away from her and is quiet for a minute. “Would they have been given Jenny’s belongings?”
She sighs. “No, probably not. Everything is evidence until someone’s convicted.”
She thinks about how hard it must have been for the family to be staying in town, just waiting for their daughter to be found. Unfortunately, she knows what it’s like to have a missing child. To not know who the child is growing up with, or even whether they’re still alive. The feeling of helplessness is almost unbearable. She suddenly feels a wave of sympathy for Grant and Anna. On top of losing their daughter, they’re having to deal with the police asking intrusive questions and searching their home.
“I think it’s time to look a little deeper into Josh,” says Nate.
Madison looks surprised. “That’s what I said yesterday.”
“I know, but I thought his alibi checked out until I realized who his girlfriend was. I’m pretty sure she was snorting coke before we talked to her yesterday. She kept rubbing her nose.”
She’s surprised he noticed a detail like that, and then wonders if he’s talking from experience. She nods. “It wouldn’t surprise me. I don’t know how a place like this can employ such young staff. They’re barely older than children themselves. People are placing their precious kids in the care of precocious teenagers. I couldn’t do it.”
He takes a sip of his coffee and then looks over at her. “Do you have any idea where Owen is?”
She looks at him, feeling like she’s been slapped in the face. “How do you know about Owen?”
“I told you I’d googled you after we first met.”
“But he was just ten when I was arrested, and he was kept out of all the media reports. He was supposed to be anonymous.”
“He nearly was. A couple of the reports mentioned you were a mother, but I read on a blog that you had a young son called Owen. No one knew what happened to him after you were convicted. Do you?”
She has her suspicions, but she’s torn about confiding in him. If he’s to help her, she knows she needs to tell him everything eventually, but working together is a test for him as much as it is for her. She reaches across him and pets Brody on the head. “All I know is that he was adopted by someone.”
“Could he be living with his dad?”
She shakes her head. “No. His dad was a one-night stand who never found out I got pregnant. There’s no one registered as Owen’s father on his birth certificate, so child services couldn’t have tracked him down.”
“Are your parents still alive?”
She squirms, feeling like she wants to get up. “My mom died before I became a cop. My dad left us when I was a teenager.”
“Sorry to hear that. Do you have siblings?”
She tenses. “Look, I don’t know where Owen is. What’s more important for me right now is to find out who framed me so my conviction can be overturned. Then we can track down my son. I can’t be reunited with him while he thinks I killed someone. I want to clear my name first. Can you understand that?” She feels the prickle of tears in her eyes, and quickly rubs them away.
His face softens. “Of course.” He stands up and Brody copies him. “In that case, we need to figure out what’s going on here as fast as possible.”
Thirty-Five
Esme is torn. She desperately wants to ignore Detective Morgan’s advice and drive up to Camp Fearless to search for Jenny herself. She knows Grant and Anna have agonized over the same course of action, but Anna doesn’t want to anger the police in case they stop looking. From what Nate Monroe said, the police don’t think that way, which strengthens her resolve. She opens the door to the spare bedroom, where she’s been staying since Jenny disappeared, and walks downstairs, listening for voices.
Anna is sitting on the couch, reading a magazine. She’s wrapped in her cashmere shawl again, despite the warm sunshine pouring through the windows. She doesn’t even notice Esme arrive.
“Where’s Grant?”
She looks up, dazed, and Esme wonders if she’s been overdoing the sleeping pills. “He’s taking a phone call outside.”
Esme turns to the deck that overlooks the hills below as Grant walks back into the house.
“I need a coffee. Can I get you one, Mom?” he asks.
She shakes her head. “Sit down, Grant. We need to talk.”
Like a robot, he does what she says. “That sounds serious.”
Anna leans forward, worried. “Have you heard from the investigator? What did he say?”
Esme takes a deep breath. “He says everyone’s cooperating with him, but he hasn’t given me anything useful yet. I think it’s time we drove up there again ourselves, this time to the camp.”
Grant looks at her like she’s gone mad. Anna glances away.
“Mom, there’s nothing we can do up there. If Jenny ran away, she’s more likely to eventually turn up here. She’s a smart kid and she’ll find a safe way of getting home.”
Esme loses her cool. “You know as well as I do that she has not run away! She had no reason to! Children do not run away from happy homes. I need to do something. I can’t sit here day after day thinking about it over and over. How can either of you?”
Anna speaks quietly. “We’re in the same position as you, Esme. Only it’s worse for us. You have your child with you; ours is missing.” She looks up at her. “I haven’t slept more than an hour since it happened. My hair’s falling out, my skin is like sandpaper. Every time I have to get out of bed to face another day, I consider taking the whole pack of sleeping pills from my nightstand.” She turns away and starts sobbing.
Esme, undeterred, looks at Grant. “You’re her father. You should be doing more, otherwise you’ll always regret it.”
Grant stands up, his face reddening. “What would you have me do? Shadow the detective
as he works? Knock on the door of every known sex offender in the area and ask if they’ll show me their basement?”
Esme is shocked into sitting on the couch. “Is that really what you think has happened to her? You think she’s with a pedophile?”
Grant yells now. “Of course she is! What other logical explanation is there? Some asshole has taken my daughter and is abusing her! And I don’t know about you, Mom, but that’s not something I can think about every day and still live. So I prefer to hope that she ran away and is on her way back to us. Which is why I stay here and try to carry on as normal.”
Esme lowers her head. She can’t bear to see either of them suffer like this, but they’re just ghosts sharing a house while they live with the unknown. She’d rather be active. “I’ll go on my own then.”
“Mom, you’re almost seventy!” he says. “You can’t do an eleven-hour drive on your own. It’s not safe.”
She looks up at him, pleading with her eyes. “Then come with me. Please, Grant. Let’s find Jenny.”
Grant looks over at Anna.
She covers her face with her hands and lets out a strange groan that feels never-ending. Finally she looks up at them with red-rimmed eyes and slowly nods. “Let’s end this one way or another.”
Thirty-Six
Nate needs background information on a few people, so he leaves Madison questioning a group of boys while he phones his go-to guy. He doesn’t know how Rex obtains his information and he’d never ask, to avoid the risk of being implicated in something illegal, but he gets it fast and it’s usually reliable.
“How’s it going upstate?” asks Rex, clearly chewing on something. The guy has a thing for candy. All his teeth are implants because he lost his own to tooth decay while he was in his twenties.
“It’s nice up here; quiet and peaceful.” Nate watches some kids playing a game of baseball while he talks. He doesn’t recognize the male counselor who is enthusiastically coaching them. “But I don’t have to tell you how idyllic locations are usually full of secrets, and Shadow Falls is no different.”
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