by HELEN HARDT
I was going home, where I’d solve the mystery of Murph and Patty for good.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Daphne
“I love Patty,” I said, “but I feel like I should be feeling worse than I do.”
“How so?” Dr. Pelletier asked.
“I have so much else going on. I have a baby who needs me, whose life has been threatened, and my husband is always working. When I’m not taking care of baby Joe, I’m napping. I had a really tough pregnancy.”
“Are you and Patty close?”
“As close as we could be, I guess, after really only knowing each other for a couple of months before I left school to get married.”
“Tell me, Mrs. Steel, have you ever had a close friendship other than with Patty?”
“There’s Patty’s boyfriend, Ennis, but I only knew him for the same time I knew Patty.”
“Anyone else?”
“Only once. Her name was Sage. She moved away during the summer between our sophomore and junior years of high school.”
“The summer before you were hospitalized.”
“Yeah.”
“Did losing her have anything to do with your depression?”
“I don’t know. I’m sure it didn’t help. I wrote to her. Five letters, and she didn’t answer any of them.”
“She was young.”
“So was I. We were the same age. If I could write, why couldn’t she?”
“I can’t answer that, Mrs. Steel.”
“Could you call me Daphne, please? I’m nineteen. I don’t feel old enough to be Mrs. Steel.”
“But you are Mrs. Steel. I find it best to keep a professional distance with my patients.”
“Okay.” I twisted my lips. “Maybe I never got over losing Sage, but that’s not enough to send someone into a tailspin.”
“Maybe it was, combined with the bullying.”
“But I don’t even remember the bullying. How can something I don’t remember send me reeling?”
“I’ve said it before. The human mind is a delicate thing. It may not recall actual events, but somewhere, deep in its recesses, it recalls the feelings.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “I don’t understand.”
“No one truly understands the human mind, Mrs. Steel. Not even professionals like me. Especially professionals, to be honest. We study and study and study, read theory after theory, only to be more confused. I can tell you this, though, with regard to your friend Patty. You feel like you should be feeling worse than you are. I think your mind may have trained you not to get too close to a friend again because of the heartbreak you felt when Sage didn’t write you back.”
I lifted my eyebrows again. “Hmm.”
“You were hospitalized for most of your junior year. What happened your senior year?”
“I went back to my high school.”
“And…?”
“I didn’t have any friends. People seemed afraid to approach me, and I heard a lot of whispering.”
“Did they know you’d been hospitalized?”
“No. The story was that I’d been in London studying abroad with a relative.”
“Do you think you imagined the whispering?”
I shook my head. “Absolutely not. I heard more than once that I was a ‘little off.’”
“I see. How did you handle all of that?”
“I threw myself into my studies. I’d always been an excellent student, and this time I truly worked hard. I studied for my college prep tests too, and I became a national merit scholar. I got a full ride to a very competitive college.”
“Then that’s all good.”
“Yes. It seemed so. Except I left college after two months because of my pregnancy.”
“You can return to school.”
“Not to Stilton, where my scholarship is. It’s in Denver, and I live here now.”
“You can go anywhere. Money is hardly an issue for you.”
I shook my head. “College isn’t in the cards for me. I’m a mother first. My baby needs me.”
“You can be a mother and a college student, Daphne.”
“You called me Daphne.”
“I did. I’m sorry.”
“Please, I prefer it. I know I’m young. I hardly seem like a missus.”
He smiled. “Okay. If it means that much to you, Daphne. You worked very hard for your scholarship. Are you sure you’re ready to give up college?”
“My baby is the most important thing in my life. I never knew true love until I had him.”
“Are you saying you’re not in love with your husband?”
“Oh, no. Of course I am. But my feelings for my child are even more intense in a totally different way. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.”
“Would you say your child is more important to you than your husband?”
Would I? “I’m not sure. You really can’t compare the two. They’re like apples and oranges.”
“If you had to choose,” Dr. Pelletier said, “which one would you choose?”
“Between my husband and my baby?” I rounded my eyes. “You can’t be asking me that.”
“I am asking you that.”
“I can’t imagine my life without Brad.”
“So you choose Brad?”
“No.” I shook my head vehemently. “I’d choose… I can’t believe I’m saying this. I’d choose my child. I’d choose Jonah.”
He smiled. “Most mothers would make that choice if they had to.”
“Oh!” I heaved a relieved sigh. “You scared me for a minute there.”
“It doesn’t mean you love your husband any less. It just means you’re a normal mother who will do anything to protect her child.”
I nodded. “What does this have to do with Patty? And Sage?”
“You’ve been through a lot in your short life, Daphne. As a psychiatric professional, I need to make sure you’re fit to raise a child.”
“What? That’s not why I’m here.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m still bound by my ethics to do the right thing. You’re young, but you’ll be a good mother. Your baby is very lucky, and he should always be your first priority.”
“He is. That’s why I need to figure the rest of this stuff out. So I can be my best for him.”
“Which is why you’re here, of course. Now…when did you write Sage those letters?”
“I wrote them”—my mind raced—“while I was in the hospital.”
“All five of them?”
“Yeah.”
“How is it that you remember writing five letters, but you don’t remember so much else about your stay?”
“I… I don’t know, Doctor.”
“When was the last time you thought about those letters to Sage?”
“Before now? I’m not sure.”
“But they came to your mind when you remembered the other patients?”
“Yeah. They did.”
“I think this is probably all related to your friend who’s currently missing. I’m sorry that a friend had to disappear for your memory to kick in.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
“Our time is up for today, Daphne, but I assure you that we will get to the bottom of this.”
“Thank you, Doctor. My husband is trying his hardest to find Patty. I wish I could help him, but I think the best thing I can do for my baby and myself is to work through my own issues.”
“You’re on your way,” he said, smiling. “Your child is lucky to have you.”
“I’m the lucky one.” No truer words. “I’ll do anything for my little dove. Anything.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Brad
Theodore Mathias
I stared at the name on the file I’d just opened. It was twice as thick as the files on the other Future Lawmakers, which made me pause. He was a year older than I was, and his birth certificate indicated his parents’ names were Niko and Gloria Mathias. He had one sister, Erica, who was engaged to Rodney
Cates. I flashed back to when I’d first found all the files. My father kept a file on Theo’s mother. Mental note: Check that out.
Medical history was unremarkable, and his school records were of course commendable. He didn’t attend college, which was odd for someone of his intellect. But why should he? He was making scads of cash with his Future Lawmakers investments.
Would they continue to make that kind of cash now that I’d divested?
I sighed. Not my problem. I’d only looked at the first three pages of what appeared to be at least a hundred, when my phone rang.
“Brad Steel,” I said into the receiver.
“Mr. Steel, it’s Jason Morey.”
Good. One of my PIs. “Yeah? What do you have for me?”
“Not good news, I’m afraid.”
My stomach dropped. “Out with it, then.”
“We found Patty Watson.”
I consciously regulated my breathing. “And…?”
“I’m sorry. She’s gone.”
Fuck. My heart nearly stopped. What was I supposed to tell Daphne? And Ennis?
“Under what circumstances?”
“The usual. Beaten. Raped. Then bludgeoned in the head. It’s not pretty.”
“Damn.” I shook my head. “Have you called the cops?”
“Not yet. We’re waiting for your go-ahead. We found her body wrapped in a tarp in an old barn about two hours south of Snow Creek. It was just luck that we stopped to look. We pretty much thought it would be a dead end.”
“Who owns the property?”
“That’s the funny part, Mr. Steel.”
“Uh…nothing about this is funny at all from where I’m standing.”
“Sorry. Bad use of the word funny. When you’ve seen as much crap as I have on this job, you get a little numb to it.”
“Just spit it out.”
“The unusual part is that the owner of the property is…you.”
The receiver slipped from my grip and thudded on top of Theo’s file. I hastily retrieved it.
“Say what?”
“It’s part of the Steel property. Just not part of the actual ranch.”
“Fuck. Seriously?”
“Seriously. I checked ownership of the legal description myself.”
“Listen,” I said, “do not call the police. You got me?”
“Mr. Steel, I have to—”
“How does a hundred grand sound to you?”
“Is this a bribe?”
“I really don’t like the word bribe, Mr. Morey,” I said. “Think of it more as payment for a service.”
“For me keeping my mouth shut. I see. And just what am I supposed to do with the body?”
“Leave it where it is. I’ll take care of it.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Do I sound like I’m kidding? Give me all relevant information now, over the phone. Do not write anything down. You got it? I’ll have the money wired to you after this phone call.”
“I’m going to hell, aren’t I?” he said.
“For taking money you can use for your family and the greater good? I doubt it.” I quickly jotted down where to find Patty’s body. “This conversation never took place,” I said to Morey.
“Got it.”
I ended the call and arranged for the wire transfer. Now…how to clean up this mess?
George Steel would know. I’d bet my fortune he’d cleaned up messes far worse than this one. I’d create a story, bring in Patty’s parents—after paying them off, of course—and convince both Ennis and Daphne that Patty had joined the Peace Corps and gone off to Africa, met someone, and never looked back.
Daphne was fragile. Murph’s death had nearly broken her, and they weren’t even close. Patty? I’d have to pull a Jonathan—keep Patty’s death from her like he’d kept Sage’s.
This would be my legacy—part of it, at least.
To protect those I loved from the evils in this world.
Daphne was too perfect for these evils, and I had the ability to protect her. My need to protect her was greater than anything I knew, and I’d felt it the first time I’d laid eyes on her.
I jerked out of my chair when someone knocked on the door. “Yeah?”
The knob turned. Daphne stood in the doorway. “Hi. I’m back.”
“Back?”
“From therapy?”
Right. Her appointment with Pelletier. I’d get the scoop from him. He was being well paid to help my wife…and to keep me informed. “How did it go?”
“I’m not sure. But I’d like to keep going.”
“Of course. How’s the baby?”
“He’s good. I’m going to feed him now. I just wanted to let you know I was back.”
“Okay, baby. I’m glad it went okay.”
She nodded and closed the door.
I drew in a deep breath.
Man, marriage was complicated.
Life was complicated.
At least it was when you were George Steel’s surviving heir. He’d left a fucking mess for me.
I had to step up my game. Patty was gone, and I had no idea who’d killed her or why. Same as I had no idea who’d killed Murphy or why.
PIs could find the bodies—and in Murph’s case, the body was already around—but not figure out who or why.
Which meant only one thing. Whoever was behind these deaths covered their tracks very well. Well enough that even George Steel couldn’t uncover them. He’d been on Murph’s death since it happened, and…nothing.
I had to become better than George Steel.
I had to create a legacy that could never be toppled and that was capable of anything.
Quickly I’d learned that type of legacy couldn’t be created doing things the legal or even the ethical way.
So I made a choice then and there.
A choice that I’d protect those I loved no matter what the cost.
Yes, I’d made that proclamation before, but this time I vowed to stop at nothing.
No matter the cost.
And it would be costly, but if I proceeded intelligently, my child wouldn’t pay the price for my sins.
Did you ever see a dead body?
I asked the question silently to my dead father as I slowly approached the lump covered in a blue plastic tarp.
Darkness had fallen, and the ray from my flashlight shone against the blue of the tarp.
I had to look. Had to make sure this was truly Patty Watson.
Nausea clawed up my throat like lava from an acidic volcano. I inhaled through my mouth, holding my nose. This was an old barn and wouldn’t smell good anyway.
Plus, I’d never smelled a dead body before. I didn’t want to start now.
I won’t get sick. I won’t get sick. I won’t get sick.
Too late.
I dropped to my knees and retched. When my throat stopped spasming, I inhaled involuntarily through both my mouth and nose.
The stench.
Old barn. Feces. Rot.
I retched again.
I was still ten feet away from the tarp-covered body.
“Did you ever have to do this?” I said aloud to my father in his grave. “Help me. For God’s sake, help me.”
No help came, of course. I didn’t believe in ghosts.
“I’m here.”
I jerked.
The voice was crackly, but familiar.
“What the fu—”
Someone grabbed me from behind and slipped a hand over my mouth. I jerked wildly. I could take most men, but my attacker had the element of surprise on his side.
“Quiet,” he roared. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help.”
“Who the fuck are you?” I demanded. Of course the words came out as nothing, since his hand was still clamped over my mouth.
“I’m going to let you go now. Do not yell.”
My gun was strapped to my ankle. As soon as the attacker loosened his hold, I bent down and grabbed it, turned, and held
it on him.
The assailant was masked. “You don’t want to do that,” he said.
“I assure you that I do.”
“No, you don’t.” He removed the black ski mask.
I’d dropped my flashlight when he first grabbed me, but now I knew why the voice was raspy but familiar.
George Steel stood in front of me.
My jaw dropped.
“It’s me, son.”
“You’re…dead.” Except the words didn’t come out. They floated around in my head, repeating themselves again and again.
“It’s me. I’m not dead.”
“But how…”
“It was time for me to step down, let you and your children run the Steel family. Besides…I can accomplish a lot more dead than alive.”
“You’re crazy,” I said, shaking my head. “A complete loon.”
He guffawed. “I’ve been called a lot worse.”
“But I have… I have all your money. Your assets.”
“You have all the Steel assets, son. Do you really think I didn’t hide a thing or two away over the years?”
“Enough to fake your death, apparently.”
“Your mother is better off without me. We both know that.”
“You didn’t have to be such a tyrant.”
“You’re right. I made a lot of mistakes, but I built Steel Acres legitimately, and I’ve left it in a good place. You have the chance to make it huge.”
“I plan to. I’ve already got major investments in place. I’m going to take it into nine figures. Maybe ten.”
“You can do it.”
“Why didn’t you do it?”
“I wasn’t the man for the job. You are.”
I shook my head. “This is nuts. Why would you pretend to die? The heart attack?”
“Son, money can buy just about anything.”
“You bought your own death?”
“In a manner of speaking. I’ll be of much more use this way. My legacy is in good hands with you.”
“I’m twenty-three.”
“You’re more of a man at twenty-three than most are at three times your age. You have a wife and a child. Something to live for.”
“You had that too.”