by Lee Hollis
“So why did Mateo stay? If the Internal Affairs division was getting close to breaking the corruption scandal wide-open, and he was feeling the heat too, wouldn’t he have left as well?”
Maya shrugged. “Who knows? My best guess is arrogance. The guy thinks he’s invincible and can probably weather any storm, which this is shaping up to be apparently, according to my husband, Max.”
“But that still doesn’t explain how any of this is connected to Maisie Portman supposedly hanging herself in her office? You said yourself there was no connection to the high school, and that Maisie only wrote stories on her website that were directly related to either a student or teacher.”
“That’s when I thought it was just Mateo. The minute I saw those texts from Frances on Maisie’s phone, it all became very clear.... Vinnie, he’s the connection.”
“Wait, Coach Vinnie?”
Maya nodded. “Frances’s boyfriend. The father of her baby.”
Sandra gasped as the realization hit her like a freight train barreling toward the station with no hand brake. “Coach Vinnie!”
“That’s right,” Maya said, her head still clouded by the revelation of Frances’s heartbreaking betrayal.
Sandra leaped to her feet. “Maisie must have found out what was happening at the department, maybe through a friend or contact who worked there, or in the Internal Affairs division, and she was about to drop the bomb because Frances was carrying Coach Vinnie’s baby! That was her angle! I can see the headline now! ‘Football Coach’s Baby Mama Caught Up in Police Corruption Scandal!’”
“I used to get after Vanessa all the time for visiting the site to read all about the latest gossip at school, and I remember a few times when Dirty Laundry was dropping hints about a whopper of a story that was coming, and how it involved someone in the athletic department, and how some big secrets were about to bring down some very powerful people in Portland. But there was nothing specific, only that a huge bomb was going to go off in a few days.”
“Frances must have picked up on the clues!”
“She used to complain that Vinnie would barely speak to her in the morning whenever she spent the night at his place because he was so preoccupied with finding out what dirty laundry was going to be aired on the site. He was addicted to it!”
“It must have been quite a shock when Maisie began dangling hints about a story involving someone in the athletic department!”
Maya still couldn’t believe what she was saying even as all the pieces began falling into place. “Frances had to have put two and two together. She probably enlisted some tech guy to trace the IP address of the Dirty Laundry site to Maisie just like I did, and that’s when she started sending her the threatening texts.”
Maya turned on her desktop and clicked on the Dirty Laundry site, which was still active. She scrolled down to Maisie’s posts about the brewing scandal she was about to expose. Maya’s eyes widened. “According to this post that went up about a week before she died, she was going to reveal her latest scoop on September twenty-eighth. But she didn’t. She waited.”
“September twenty-eighth? I remember that day because it was the day of my first PTA meeting as president.”
“Why did she stay silent?” Maya mused.
Sandra’s face darkened. “She didn’t.”
“What?”
“She didn’t stay silent. She went with a bigger story. My husband’s sex scandal down in Washington!”
“I’m sorry . . . ,” Maya said, shifting uncomfortably.
“Forget it. The whole world knows now. She probably decided to postpone her police-corruption story until all the fervor over my troubles died down, which gave Frances the time she needed to take care of the problem.”
“Wait,” Maya said, scooting her chair closer and fervently tapping on her keyboard.
Sandra circled around the desk and hovered over her shoulder.
Maya brought her calendar up on the screen. “That’s the day we found Maisie hanging in her office. Look down there. It reads, Frances, doctor’s appointment. She took the whole afternoon off, and I didn’t see her until the next morning. I thought it was strange she had a doctor’s appointment, because she had just had her ultrasound a few days before and everything checked out fine. I asked her if anything was wrong when she called and told me she was on her way to the doctor and she said no, that it was just a routine appointment. I remember thinking how awfully close it was to her last appointment.”
“She was lying,” Sandra said quietly.
“We can certainly check with her doctor to find out, but I’m guessing that you’re right.”
Sandra was starting to get excited. “Then if she was lying, she has no alibi. She could have gone to Maisie Portman’s office, killed her, and then staged the whole suicide and—” Sandra abruptly stopped talking as she saw the revolted look on Maya’s face. “I’m sorry . . .”
Maya collected herself and shifted into detective mode. “No, we need to figure this out. The fact she’s my best friend is irrelevant.”
Sandra heard her words, but Maya’s body language didn’t seem to agree. The truth was killing her, and she had every reason to feel overwhelmed, disgusted, and betrayed.
Maya stood up, her mind meticulously tracking the probable course of events in her mind. “Frances was eight months pregnant and Maisie was an able-bodied woman. Doesn’t seem natural that Frances could overpower her.”
“But as a police officer, Frances surely would have been trained in how to subdue someone, right?”
Maya nodded. “Yes. But all the training in the world doesn’t prepare you for being a mere few weeks from giving birth. I’m having trouble buying Frances could single-handedly kill Maisie and stage the suicide, like lifting her up on the chair to tie a rope around her neck.”
“Maybe she had help. Maybe Mateo did all the heavy lifting. That’s why he was the first on the scene when we called nine-one-one!”
“He was her coconspirator. He had just as much to lose if the truth got out. I’m betting he was the one who strangled Maisie and then the two of them staged the crime scene to look like a suicide together.”
Suddenly they heard a thump coming from outside the office.
Sandra turned to go outside and check it out, but Maya sprang from behind her desk and intercepted her. “No, Sandra. You stay right here.”
Sandra nodded nervously, and then Maya stepped gingerly over to the door and opened it as softly as she could. The door was old and creaky, so her efforts were for naught. She cautiously poked her head out into the darkened, shadowy hallway. There was nothing there. Glancing back and holding up a hand for Sandra to stay put, she edged her whole body out into the hallway and looked around. She instinctively reached into her bag for her handgun, and raising it up in front of her, she made her way down the hall, around the corner to the old service elevator, to make sure there was no one lurking in a corner somewhere. Satisfied the coast was clear, she doubled back the other way, passing the office and creeping down to the other end of the hall and finding nothing. Since it was well after eight in the evening, no one else seemed to be working in the office building. She reholstered her gun and walked back to her office.
The moment she entered she knew something was wrong.
Sandra was not where she had left her.
“Sandra?”
She stepped farther inside and suddenly the door slammed shut behind her, startling her. She spun around to see Sandra wedged up against the wall behind the door, a man’s hand clamped firmly over her mouth, a gun pressed against her right temple.
As he pushed Sandra forward, his face fell into the light.
It was Detective Mateo Reyes.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Maya tried her best to stay calm and stone-faced. She didn’t want to give the slightest indication to Mateo that he had sent shivers down her spine and a healthy dose of fear through her heart.
Sandra’s eyes were popped open, and she was shakin
g as she struggled in his strong grip. He took his hand away from her mouth and shoved her toward Maya, who caught her as she stumbled to keep her from falling to the floor.
“What do you want, Mateo?”
He smirked as he pointed the gun at both of them. “What do I want? You don’t think I heard everything you two were saying in here? I was right outside the door listening! I came by the station earlier tonight to catch up on some paperwork and spied you and that goober Oscar rifling through my locker. I’ve been following you ever since. I think you know what I want. I want you two out of my hair!”
Maya could feel Sandra’s manicured nails cutting into her arm because she was squeezing so tight. Maya knew she had to keep calm so Sandra would not fall apart.
Mateo’s eyes narrowed as he formulated some kind of plan in his head, and then he gestured toward the door with his gun. “Come on, let’s go.”
Maya took Sandra by the hand and led her out the door. She was still shaking. Mateo followed behind them and prodded them to move faster by poking Maya in the back with the barrel of his gun as they made their way down the hall. They took the elevator to the first floor and headed out the door.
Once outside, Mateo nodded toward a gray van parked across the street. “Over there. Move it.”
Maya knew once they were in that van, the chances of them surviving would drop precipitously, but they had no choice. Mateo had the upper hand at the moment.
He pushed Sandra toward the driver’s side door. “You. You’re driving.”
Sandra froze and stared at the van. “Is it an automatic or stick shift? I can’t drive a stick shift. I tried to learn once, but I ended up stripping the gears of my father’s Jeep Wrangler when I was sixteen.”
Maya felt sorry for Sandra. She was a bundle of nerves, but there was nothing she could do for her with a gun pressed into the small of her back.
“You’re fine! Just get in!” Mateo spit out.
Sandra opened the door and climbed behind the wheel.
Mateo led Maya around to the back. “Open it.”
Maya pulled the back doors of the van open, and before she could see what was in there, Mateo roughly lifted her up and gave her a violent shove, sending her hurtling across the hard metal floor inside. She banged her head against the wall of the van. Mateo jumped in, slammed the doors shut, while keeping the gun trained on her the whole time. There was a rolled-up tarp, some duct tape, and a shovel piled in the corner. None of those items made her feel any better.
Mateo shouted up front to Sandra as he tossed her the ignition key. “Drive.”
“Where are we going?”
“I’ll tell you where to go. Just head for the Ninety-Five.”
They were going to get on the freeway.
Where was he taking them?
Maya feared he would exit onto a country road toward some wooded area where he could easily dispose of them.
Sandra turned the ignition key, and the van roared to life. She pulled away from the curb and drove down the street, turning toward the highway on-ramp.
Mateo bent down and picked up the roll of duct tape. He kept his gun pointed at Maya as he used his teeth to tear open a piece of tape and then with one hand wrapped it tightly around her ankles. He did the same with her wrists. Once she was securely bound, he finally lowered the gun.
“Keep quiet or I’ll tape your mouth shut too,” he spit out.
Maya didn’t say a word.
Confident she would no longer be a problem, he focused on Sandra, who had just pulled the van onto the 95 freeway heading north.
“Keep going until you get to Exit Sixty-Three.”
Maya knew that was the exit for Gray and New Gloucester. He would probably have her take Maine 115 west, to the Sebago Lakes region via North Windham, where there were plenty of rural roads and thick woods, the perfect area to dump two bodies late at night. It was getting foggy, and at one point Sandra had to use the wipers to remove the heavy mist settling on the windshield.
Maya tried reaching for the gun holstered on her leg but it was difficult with her hands and feet bound, but she tried anyway. However, in her desperate effort to retrieve her weapon, she made too much noise and attracted Mateo’s attention so she was forced to stop when he turned around and stared at her suspiciously. She waited until his back was turned to her again before she tried something else. She studied the contents of the van. The tarp. The shovel. Nothing useful. Then she remembered her car keys in her pocket. They were much easier to get her hands on than her gun, so she shoved a hand in her pants pocket, stretching her fingers as far as they could go until her middle finger was touching the key ring. She managed to drag the keys toward her until she was able to get a firm hold on them. Then, slowly, so they wouldn’t jangle, she removed them from her pocket and then used one of the keys to saw through the tape around her ankles. She was about halfway through when Mateo turned around to check up on her again. She stopped suddenly, covering the keys with her hand. His cop brain instinctively knew she was up to something, but he couldn’t figure out what it was yet.
“Exit Sixty-Three is just up ahead,” Sandra said dismally, almost resigned to their fate.
Mateo swiveled back around to make sure she was following his driving instructions, and Maya got back to work at cutting loose her bonds. She felt the van turning onto the exit ramp. Time was running out. She was just about all the way through the tape when Mateo suddenly spun around and saw what she was doing. He angrily aimed his gun at her.
As Maya pulled her legs apart, snapping the tape free, she screamed, “Sandra, crank the wheel!”
Sandra didn’t even hesitate. With all her might, she jerked the steering wheel to the right, and the van violently swerved. Mateo immediately lost his balance and went crashing into the side of the van. In an instant, with her hands still taped up, Maya flopped down on her back and lashed out with a scissor kick, one foot smashing into Mateo’s face and the other nailing the hand that was holding the gun. Mateo automatically reached up with both hands to protect his face, and the gun clattered to the metal floor of the van.
Mateo quickly realized what Maya was doing, and with blood running from his busted nose and his eyes wild with fury, he made a lunge for the gun, but Maya was already on her feet and used her body like a battering ram, plowing into him, and they both smashed into the back of the driver’s seat. Sandra screamed.
“Sandra, pull over!”
The van screeched to a stop.
Maya was at a disadvantage with her hands still tied, and Mateo knew it. He wrestled her to the floor and wrapped his big fleshy hands around her neck and started squeezing. Maya fought to breathe, but spotted the gun lying on the floor just a few inches from them.
Sandra unhooked her seat belt and turned around to see what was happening. Maya desperately tried to signal toward the gun with her eyes, which were just about to roll up in her head as Mateo choked the life out of her.
Sandra was frozen in fear, not picking up on Maya’s last-ditch effort before succumbing and slipping into unconsciousness.
Finally, as if a miracle had been bestowed upon them, Sandra spotted the gun lying on the floor near her. She gasped and made a grab for it. She stood up and aimed it at the back of Mateo’s head.
“Stop it, Mateo, or I’ll shoot!”
He loosened his grip on Maya’s neck.
Maya, relieved, turned over on her side and began coughing.
Mateo slowly stood up and turned to Sandra, whose hand was visibly shaking as she held the gun on him. He sneered. “What are you going to do, shoot me?”
Sandra nodded.
“Have you ever held a gun before, Sandra?”
She shook her head.
“I can see that. It’s one thing to see it on TV, but it’s an entirely different thing to fire one in real life.”
Sandra tried maintaining a poker face, but her emotions from this whole ordeal were getting the best of her and tears began welling up in her eyes.
&
nbsp; “I don’t think you have the guts to actually kill me, what do you think, Sandra?”
She didn’t answer him. She just kept trying to unsteadily keep the heavy gun pointed at him, but it was getting harder, and the tears were now streaming down her cheeks.
“You know what I think, Sandra? I think you’re not going to shoot me,” Mateo sneered.
Sandra finally lowered the gun, defeated. “You’re right,” she cried, staring down at the floor of the van. But before Mateo had a chance to snatch the gun from her possession, Sandra raised her eyes back up at him. “But she will.”
Mateo looked at her confused, and then Maya pressed the barrel of her own gun against the back of his neck and whispered, “With pleasure.”
Sandra had bought her just enough time to unholster her own gun from her thigh, which proved to be much easier now that her legs were free.
Mateo slowly raised his hands up in the air and Maya ordered him to get on the floor as Sandra used the duct tape to secure his hands and feet and for good measure, she slapped a thick piece of tape across his mouth so they wouldn’t have to hear him talk anymore. Once that was done, Maya kept watch as Sandra got back behind the wheel.
“Are we going to the police?” Sandra asked.
“Not yet. We have to make a house call first.”
Within minutes they were back on the 95 freeway, heading south, and were soon rolling slowly down a residential street to an apartment building where Sandra managed to find a parking spot right out front.
Maya jumped out of the back of the van and called to Sandra, “Keep an eye on him. I won’t be long.”
Sandra nodded, getting more comfortable holding a gun, which she kept aimed right at Mateo’s head, who was slumped over on the floor, knowing what was ahead for him.
Maya took the stairs up to the second floor and steeled herself as she stopped in front of a unit and rapped loudly on the door.