Shattered

by Allison Brennan

  “Perfect,” Lucy said.

  Ken walked back in and said, “Kevin Fieldstone is here. He’s in Mr. Fieldstone’s office.”

  “Can I—?” She looked at Lucy.

  “Yes, but I need to talk to him.”

  “Why?”

  “Danielle stalked her other victims. He may have seen her.”

  She could see Tony Fieldstone wanted to argue, but he simply put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and led the way to his office.

  Ken whispered to Lucy, “I’m going to follow up on the address. We may need to bolt quickly.”

  “I want to get the Fieldstones into protective custody,” she said. “As soon as Danielle figures out we’re onto her, she may change her MO or disappear.”

  “I’ll work on getting a detail to sit on them at their house.” Ken walked off and Nina and Tony led Lucy to Fieldstone’s office.

  Lucy asked Banks to stand aside and not interject. “I don’t want to scare Kevin,” she said quietly, “and too many grown-ups getting angry will do that.”

  She also said that for Nina and Tony’s benefit—they meant well, but they were an intimidating couple, especially together.

  “Hi, Mom! Hi, Dad! I brought you Grandma’s cookies.”

  He had a Tupperware in his hands.

  “Great, they’re my favorite,” Nina said and took the box.

  “Did you know that two FBI agents were picking me up? Grandma said you did, but it was so totally cool. They have guns and everything. They have a cool radio in their car, but their car isn’t like a police car. It’s all stealthy.”

  “Yes, we asked them to bring you here.”

  “Why? Is something wrong, Mom?” He looked more curious than worried.

  “No,” Nina said. “Not with us, but this FBI agent would like to talk to you. She came all the way from San Diego.”

  “Really? Why?”

  Kevin was a cute kid. He was small for an eight-year-old, fidgety, with huge blue eyes and a mop of dark blond hair.

  Lucy sat in the chair next to Kevin. “It’s good to meet you, Kevin,” she said. “You can call me Lucy, and you can ask me anything. I think that’s only fair because I’m going to ask you questions.”

  “Do you have a gun?”

  “Yes. I have two.”

  “Really? Like a backup gun?”

  “Exactly like that.”

  “So it’s not just in the movies.”

  “No. The movies don’t always get things right, but that one is true for some of us. My turn?”

  He nodded.

  “Do you know a woman named Danielle Sharpe—Ms. Sharpe—who works with your mom and dad?”

  “Yeah, sort of.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He shrugged. “Sometimes I come to the office here, like when we have a minimum day or Christmas break and my grandma has things to do like buying me Christmas presents so I can’t stay with her. It’s fun. So I know people here.”

  “When was the last time you saw Ms. Sharpe?”

  “Today after school.”

  Nina sucked in her breath and Kevin frowned.

  “You have a good memory,” Lucy said. “Where were you when you saw her?”

  “Grandma picks me up at school every day and we walk to her house. Unless it’s cold, then she brings the car because Grandma doesn’t like it too cold.”

  “And Ms. Sharpe was standing outside your school?”

  “No, she was in her new car.”

  “New car?”

  “Yeah, she used to have a black Honda now she has a brand-new silver car. Like Uncle Eric’s.”

  Lucy glanced at his parents. Tony said, “My brother has a Nissan Altima.”

  Lucy made a note, and asked Kevin, “Do you see her at your school often?”

  “A few times. I just thought she has a kid or something. Ashley’s dad is a lawyer, too.”

  “That’s the daughter of one of the senior associates,” Tony said. “She’s a couple years older.”

  “Sixth grade,” Kevin said. “I’m in third grade.”

  “So a few times—is that a few times lately? Since the school year started?”

  He squinted. “Well, maybe since break. I don’t think I saw her before Christmas. But, you know, I might not have noticed. I saw her the first day we got back—I remember only because my grandma was a couple minutes late. The dogs got out because the gardener left the gate open. Grandma called the school and my teacher waited with me. I didn’t really think about it, just thought she looked familiar, but then the next week I saw her again sitting in the car and remembered she was a friend of my mom’s and worked here.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Nina asked. “Ms. Sharpe doesn’t have a child.”

  Kevin shrugged, but looked a little uncertain. “I didn’t think to?”

  “You’re not in trouble, Kevin,” Lucy said. “I promise.”

  “Did she do something wrong?”

  Now he was getting worried, but she didn’t want to lie to him, either. Kids picked up on lies sometimes faster than adults. “Well, a long time ago Ms. Sharpe had a little boy who died. We’re just a bit concerned because she misses him so much we think she might want to find herself another little boy.”

  “Like me?”

  He was quick. She didn’t want to scare him. “Yes. But she isn’t thinking straight, and I don’t want you to get hurt. So it’s really important that you stick with your mom and dad for a while, stick to them like glue, until we find her and make sure she isn’t going to hurt anyone.”

  “So I don’t have to go to school tomorrow?”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Because I’m a straight-A student. I don’t have to go and I’ll still have A’s because school is really easy.”

  Lucy almost laughed. The comment reminded her of something Sean might have said when he was a precocious eight-year-old.

  “You should probably also know that I saw Ms. Sharpe at Grandma’s.”

  “Talking to Grandma?” Tony asked.

  “No, just out front. She was in her car, talking on her cell phone. The old car, last week. Before she got the new car.”

  “Any other time?”

  “Nope, that’s all the times I’ve seen her. Well, except here at Mom and Dad’s office.”

  “That’s good, Kevin, thank you,” Lucy said. “I’m going to talk to your mom and dad for a minute alone, okay? The agents who picked you up will sit with you for a while.”

  She stepped out of Tony’s office. When she was alone with the two of them, she said, “When you’re ready to leave, two agents will take you to your house and keep an eye on the place tonight. Tomorrow, if you can’t stay home for the day, I’d like Kevin to stay here in the building with you. It’s easy to secure, and we can post agents in the lobby. You might want to cancel Danielle’s access into the building.”

  “I’ll talk to Archie, we’ll take care of it,” Tony said. He was holding Nina’s hand. Lucy didn’t know how they could do it—hold it together when they’d violated each other’s trust. Except … had they? She didn’t understand open relationships and how they worked. She couldn’t do it.

  But they loved Kevin. It was clear by their fear and worry for him, and their unity in front of him. Just like Andrew and Nelia. Their marriage wasn’t perfect, but they had a shared love for the child they’d created.

  Ken came running down the hall. “We know where she lives. Units are on their way, let’s go.”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Danielle let herself into the Fieldstones’ empty house. The alarm beeped repeatedly. She walked over to the panel and typed in the code Nina Fieldstone had used months ago.

  The beeping stopped and the light turned green.

  She had done a little research on alarms because she didn’t know if they had motion detectors or door alarms or what, but she figured out how to set the house for exterior doors only. She did, so when they came home they wouldn’t think anything w
as out of the ordinary. The same code turned on and off the alarm, whatever alarm was set.

  She stood in the entry and stared at the wedding portrait that took up one wall. They looked so happy, but they weren’t happy. They were miserable human beings, they cheated on each other, they put their own selfish needs above their only child. The one thing they should care for. The one being they should love above all others.

  But they loved themselves first and foremost.

  Like Richard.

  Like herself.

  It was over. It was truly over.

  No!

  She walked slowly through the house. Since the last time she’d been here, they’d moved the furniture around a bit. Added the third-grade portrait of Kevin to a wall of photos that framed the staircase.

  Soon, all they would have of Kevin were the photos. Then they would be very, very sorry.

  But she didn’t have time. She’d seen those people walk up to Kevin’s grandmother’s house and take him away. They were cops. They may not look like cops—no uniform, no cop car—but Danielle had been around enough cops when they were looking for Matthew that she had a sense of how they walked, how they moved, always looking around but not really seeming to. And why would Kevin go off with anyone? Friends? Maybe. Maybe, but she didn’t think so.

  Danielle went upstairs to Kevin’s room. It took her a long minute before she could actually walk in.

  Such a little boy. He liked football, it seemed. A poster of a quarterback in a black uniform—who were they?—hung above his bed. She stepped closer. Carr, Raiders. She didn’t know anything about football.

  It looked like Kevin had every Goosebumps book ever written—they took up two long shelves in his bookshelf. A hodgepodge of other books filled the remaining space, plus a football signed in Sharpie, but Danielle couldn’t read the signature.

  He had a computer in his room … what parent let a child have a computer in their room? There were predators out there, predators like that evil man who stole Matthew and hurt him.

  Remembering the pain when the police told her what had happened … Danielle had to sit down. She sat on Kevin’s bed and took a deep breath. And then another. She picked up an old, ratty, stuffed Pooh Bear. The bear had seen better days, but it was obviously well loved.

  Danielle held it close and, hands shaking, pulled her cell phone from her pocket.

  Richard answered on the second ring. Her instincts buzzed. He rarely answered the phone when she called, as if, even though her number was blocked, he knew it was her.

  “Hello, Richard.”

  “Danielle.”

  He sounded different.

  “You betrayed me again, didn’t you?”

  “What? What do you mean? Honey—”

  “Don’t call me that!”

  Her head pounded and she squeezed her eyes shut. Something was wrong, and she knew her husband—ex-husband—was part of it.

  “Danielle, you sound agitated. Tell me what I can do to help you. I’ll do anything. Matthew was my son, too. I loved him.”

  “You’d do anything? Really? Anything?”

  “Yes, Danielle. Name it. We can talk, we can see a counselor, we can visit his grave—whatever you need.”

  “Go kill yourself.”

  She ended the call. That’s when she saw that she had a missed call and voice mail.

  She listened to it.

  Nina.

  Something was very, very wrong.

  Danielle turned off her phone, but what if someone could trace it? She’d read in an article that law enforcement could trace phones even if the phone was off.

  She went back downstairs and filled a pot with water. She immersed her phone and hoped that killed it completely.

  She had one more job to do. One more … and then maybe, just maybe, she could rest in peace.

  She was so, so tired.

  She brought the pot back upstairs and put it on the top shelf of the linen closet, then sat back on Kevin’s bed and took the gun out of her purse.

  Surprisingly, her hands were steady.

  Because she was doing the right thing.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Danielle lived in a small two-bedroom post-WWII house in Glendale only blocks from the mail drop. Two Glendale PD squad cars, a locksmith, and two teams of FBI agents were already there when Ken and Lucy arrived. One of the FBI agents, who identified himself as SSA Tim Nelson, said, “We didn’t attempt contact, as you asked, but we haven’t seen any movement in the house, and a neighbor informed us that Ms. Sharpe left the house shortly before noon today and she hasn’t returned. She’s driving a silver Nissan Altima with new dealer plates.”

  “Thanks, Tim,” Ken said. “Do you have an extra vest for Kincaid here? She’s from out of the area and doesn’t have her gear.”

  Tim nodded and motioned for Lucy to come to his trunk. “It might be too big.”

  “Thanks,” Lucy said and put the vest over her T-shirt and left her blazer in his trunk. FBI was printed on the back and front in large yellow letters. She adjusted it. Big, but not cumbersome.

  Ken, Lucy, and Tim approached the front door. Tim had Glendale PD covering the back. Ken knocked on the door. “Danielle Sharpe, this is the FBI. We have a search warrant for these premises. We’re coming in.”

  He waited to make sure she really wasn’t home, then Tim had the locksmith crack open the lock. They entered the premises, guns drawn, and did a complete search of the house.

  “Clear,” they called out one by one.

  They met back in the living room. “I’ll clear the garage,” Tim said and left Ken and Lucy to begin the search.

  They both pulled on gloves and Lucy found the light switch.

  The house was sparsely furnished. There were no pictures on the walls, nothing personal. A television was in the corner, a couch, and a coffee table. The far wall had a faint stain on it. Lucy approached, at first thinking it might be blood, but when she got closer she realized that it was a wine stain. On the floor was a broken wine stem.

  “She threw a full wineglass at the wall.” Lucy touched the carpet. “It’s dry.”

  Ken was in the kitchen. “She drinks a lot of wine—the recycling bin has twelve, no thirteen, empty bottles.”

  “She may not have emptied it recently.” But it also could be part of her process, building herself up to take another human life. Yet Lucy didn’t see how she could be intoxicated and still be sharp enough to commit these murders without leaving any evidence.

  “Refrigerator is almost empty—a couple of take-out boxes,” Ken said. “Cabinets—looks like my first apartment. Minimal dishes, glasses—just enough to get by.”

  Lucy opened the first door—it was a den. Danielle spent far more time in here—there were books and photo albums and the distinct smell of sour grapes. The desk was a mess. Two wineglasses with residue were positioned on the bookshelf.

  Lucy went through the papers on the desk. A photo album had been destroyed—pictures cut out and shredded. Lucy put a couple of the photos back together—they were of Danielle and her ex-husband. The photos of Matthew were still intact, yet if one of his parents was in the photo, they had been cut out.

  Both Richard and Danielle.

  What did that mean? Was she suicidal? Had she already killed herself? Something had tipped her off—she wasn’t sick, she wasn’t home, she hadn’t returned Nina Fieldstone’s call, and she likely had a gun.

  Lucy’s phone rang and she jumped.

  “Hello?” she answered.

  “This is Richard Collins.

  “Mr. Collins. Do you have information?”

  “Danielle just called me. It wasn’t a long call, and she sounded … strained.”

  “What did she say? Did you record it?”

  “Yes, the FBI recorded it. She asked me if I had betrayed her again. Then she told me to kill myself. What’s going on?”

  “Has she ever told you to kill yourself?”

  “No, I mean, she told me
repeatedly that I should have been the one to die, but not like this.”

  “We’re looking for her. Stay put, Richard, okay? Stay in your house with your wife. The FBI will stick with you for tonight, just in case.” Lucy didn’t see why Danielle would go after Richard now, after twenty-three years, but something had tipped her off. Then she realized.

  “Richard,” she asked, “when we talked yesterday you said she left voice mails, but you only talked to her once.”

  “Yes, so?”

  “What about the other times she called? Five years ago? Before then?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Did you talk to her every time she called, or not?”

  He paused. “No, I usually only answered the phone once or twice. Then I started sending all blocked calls to voice mail. It got to be … stressful for me.”

  “Thanks. If she calls again, let me know immediately. I’ll get the tape from the Denver office.” Lucy wanted to listen to her voice.

  Ken said, “I have it—they sent it to me.”

  He played the recording. It was short—not even a minute long.

  “Betrayed me again,” Ken mumbled. “What does that mean? They’re not married, they haven’t been.”

  “She knows he’s talked to us.”

  “How?”

  “Because he’s been answering all her calls. That’s something he hasn’t done in the past. She’s not an idiot, it’s a change, and any change of behavior she’s going to pick up on. I think she realized it last night when she talked to him, which is why she left this morning. And last night she sounded intoxicated, she may have needed time to sober up and plan. She’s not irrational—not in the way we might think. She had a plan, but now she changed it. Just like she had a plan for Jonah Oliver, but had to change it when his babysitter confronted her.”

  But what exactly was she going to do?

  Lucy looked around the room. She noticed there were seven photo albums on the top shelf of the bookshelf that all matched the one that was torn apart on her desk. She took them down. Inside all the pictures of Richard had been cut out, but Matthew’s pictures—and Danielle’s pictures—were intact. “She might have kept a diary, kept something that can help us find her.”