by D E Dennis
Michael tsked. “I’m sorry to hear they spent there last moments in a fight, but why are you telling me this?”
Nelson hung his head. “I thought he had done it, Grimm. Plain and simple. I thought he followed that woman and killed her and when you came asking questions, I kept my mouth shut about it. But now I know it wasn’t him and I’m ashamed I ever thought otherwise. So there’s the whole truth. Like I should have told you from the start.”
He nodded. “Well, thanks, Nelson. I appreciate you coming clean, but it’s true, it couldn’t have been her husband. He was on a business trip when Harper was murdered.”
Nelson paused, glass halfway to his lips. “Business trip?”
“Yeah. She was killed Thursday night.”
“Yes,” he said slowly, “Thursday night. A week ago, like I said.”
“Exactly.”
“Right.”
Finley looked no less confused. “Hold on, let me make this clear. Thursday night is when I overheard the fight between Kaiden and Harper. Right here, in this chair. He wasn’t on no business trip.”
“Thursday night?” Michael repeated incredulous. “As in last Thursday? Seven days ago? Kaiden Rowe was here fighting with his wife.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“But then why did he—” Michael shook himself. “No, it doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t have lied to us, but he still couldn’t have done it. Harper was killed with a shotgun and unless he has one of those lying around—”
“He does,” Nelson said. “His grandfather’s old gun. Keeps it in the garage or something.”
It was quite a feat, for all the air to be sucked out of the atmosphere in a millisecond but that’s what it felt like to Michael. Monica called it his flash of insight when all the pieces finally came together in his head and revealed the full picture of the crime.
“That’s why I was sure he did it.” Nelson’s words penetrated the fog. “But it’s no matter now. You caught the real killer and no surprise it was that animal. I’m just sorry I wasn’t honest with you sooner. I know how difficult the private detective racket can be. We don’t have high-tech labs or warrants or databases. We have to rely on good ole intuition and it didn’t sit well with me, lying to a couple of kids like you, trying to do our profession proud.”
Michael clambered to his feet. “Thank you, Nelson.” He could hear himself say the words, but he couldn’t connect to them. He was on auto-pilot. “You’ve been very helpful.”
“No problem, Grimm. I’m just glad I was wrong. Now, you go out there and get that piece of trash Antarr.”
“No problem.” He stumbled off the porch, heading down the path and onto the sidewalk just as Monica arrived.
The car pulled up right behind his. “Michael,” Monica called as she stepped out. “You didn’t start without me, did you?”
“Fraid so,” Michael said softly, turning to face the Rowe house.
“Well, what did Finley want?” She walked over to Michael, tossing Nelson a wave over his shoulder. “Hello.”
“Good morning, ma’am,” he said cheerily. He was obviously feeling great about life after unloading his troubles.
“He wanted to tell us he hid vital information in a murder investigation.”
Monica’s hand dropped back to her side. “What? What are you talking about?”
“Kaiden Rowe lied to us. He was not on a business trip when his wife was killed.”
“He wasn’t? Where was he then?”
“He was here. Right there on his front lawn having a nasty argument with Harper. One that ended with him hopping in his car and chasing after her.” Michael’s eyes flicked to hers. “Mo, we were wrong. No, I was wrong. I was so fixated on Antarr, I never truly considered any other suspects. You said the trail leads back to Harper just as much as it leads to Antarr and you were right. Antarr did not kill Harper Rowe. Kaiden did.”
He marched off, headed straight for the Rowe house.
He made it three steps before a hand on his arm pulled him up.
“Okay, I’m going to need you to slow down, back up, and start again.”
Michael did as requested. Going through it all and watching as Monica’s jaw dropped lower and lower.
“Alright?” he asked. “Now we need to—”
“Speak to Finley again? I agree.”
Monica sped up the path and Michael threw up his hands, jogging to catch up.
His sister had Nelson repeat everything he had told him, and he looked quite puzzled while doing it.
“Is something wrong?” Nelson asked. “You already know Antarr did it.”
The siblings shared a look. “Just want to make sure we know all the details. This points to her state of mind when she left,” she said simply.
He nodded, tapping his nose. “Gotcha. Good thinking. She was positively raring to go. I wouldn’t be surprised if she confronted Antarr herself, not the other way around.”
They said their goodbyes and scurried off the porch.
“Let’s go, Mo. His car is in the drive. We’re ending this now.”
“Call Samira. The man has a gun, Michael.”
“You call her,” he said, darting off.
“Wait until she gets here,” she hissed.
But Michael pretended he hadn’t heard. Cursing, Monica hurried to catch up.
“Kaiden,” he called as he pounded on the door. “Kaiden, open up.”
The sounds of shuffling, followed by the click of locks. The door swung open, unleashing a wave of stink that sent Michael stumbling back.
An unshaven, bleary-eyed man stood in front of him. Clad only in a stained shirt and boxers, Michael squinted through the stubble, ketchup-stains, and greasy wild hair to spot the well-groomed person they had spoken to before.
“Kaiden?” Monica said slowly, looking him up and down.
“Yeah,” he croaked. “What is it? Did you find him?”
“I believe we did,” Michael said carefully. “Can we come in?”
He nodded, stepping aside to clear their path. Michael passed too close to Kaiden, got the full whiff of him, and quickly held his breath.
They walked the familiar path to the living room and stepped into the room.
“Goodness,” Monica breathed. She covered her mouth.
Her reaction was no surprise. The work they had put into cleaning up after Kaiden’s breakdown had all been undone. The place was destroyed. Chairs overturned, coffee table split in half, the bookshelf facedown on the floor.
“Sorry about the mess,” Kaiden spoke up from behind them. “Come into the kitchen.”
“Where is your mother-in-law?” Monica said as they backed away.
“I told her I wanted space. She gave it to me.”
Bad idea, Michael thought when they walked into the kitchen. It was hardly any better in here. The fridge door was wide open, letting all the cool air out. Pizza boxes were stacked up on the kitchen counter, making a nice addition to the half-full Chinese containers spilled out next to them.
“Sit.”
He pointed to the dining table. Papers were scattered about, on the table and under it, but it looked okay, so they gingerly took a seat across from Kaiden.
“Mr. Rowe,” Monica began, shoving a stack of bills aside. “We just need to clear up a few details.”
“Okay,” he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“The day your wife was killed. What time did you leave for your business trip?”
“I left that afternoon, around four o’clock.”
“I see, and do you own a shotgun?”
He frowned. “A shotgun? Yeah. Why?”
“Where is it?” she asked, ignoring the question. “Can we see it?”
“It’s in the garage.” He rose from his chair, leading the way.
“Monica, stay here,” Michael said out of the corner of his mouth. “Call Mira.”
“I’m not leaving you alone,” she said stubbornly.
“He’s not going to do anyt
hing to me with you here and the police on the way. So get the police on the way.”
“You coming?”
“Yep,” Michael said, slipping out of his sister’s grasp. “Right behind you.”
“It was my grandfather’s,” Kaiden said as they walked down the short hallway. “I’m not much into guns, but it meant a lot to my father so I held on to it.”
“Is it registered?”
He shook his head. “It’s old. We don’t use it. We never bothered.”
Kaiden threw open the door and led the way inside. Michael wasn’t about to have him at his back.
“We keep it over here.”
Michael looked around. This room was the only one that survived Kaiden’s rage. It was obsessively neat in here. Handmade shelving took up one wall and everything on it was perfectly arranged. Nothing out of place.
Kaiden bent and pulled a large case off the bottom shelf. He set it on the floor, easy to do since there was no car taking up space.
“You know, I like the way you’re playing this, Kaiden.”
He paused, fingers hovering over the latch. “Excuse me? What are you talking about?”
Michael waved his hand at him. “This whole calm, collected, and helpful routine. It’s good, really. I almost believe you’re just a grieving husband struggling to keep it together after losing the love of your life.”
Kaiden blinked at him as he rose to his feet. “What did you just say to me?”
“I know, Kaiden.”
“You know what?” he snapped, face twisting into a scowl.
Michael stepped forward. “I know you weren’t on a business trip when your wife was killed.”
Kaiden paled, scowl melting away.
“I know you were right here in Castle Rock,” he continued. “I know you and Harper got into a vicious fight and you told her she was going to stop or you would make her stop.”
“Wait! That wasn’t—”
Michael raised his voice. “And I know she took off and you followed her in a rage!”
“That’s not true!”
“No? Are you saying you weren’t in town?” Michael took another step, facing him down. “Think carefully before you answer.”
“I-I was here, but—”
“Then you’re claiming you two didn’t fight?”
“It’s not— Look, just let me explain!”
“Then explain. Tell me why you lied about your alibi.”
A growl burst out of him. “Because I didn’t want you to think— It wasn’t me!”
Michael inclined his head. “You didn’t want us to think you grabbed Grandpa’s shotgun, followed your wife, and killed her.”
“No.” He grabbed his head, nails digging in his greasy locks. “I mean, yes. I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea and waste time going after me, when you needed to focus on finding her killer. It was a stupid fight. It didn’t mean anything!”
“But that’s not true, Kaiden. It did mean something. The promise she made to you meant something. She told you, didn’t she? That she was done investigating Liam Antarr. Her obsession had consumed her life and you couldn’t take it anymore. You already saw the pursuit of the Siren Woods Killer destroy your father, you didn’t want to see history repeat itself.”
Kaiden glowered at him.
“Harper said she was done, but then she starts writing the tribute and she discovered something. She wants to do what she always does, expose the truth, but you’ve had enough. She blows you off and you didn’t handle that well. I’ve seen you fly into a rage, Kaiden. It’s not pretty.”
“I would never hurt Harper!” he roared. His fists were balled, begging to connect with Michael’s face. “I was trying to protect her! She was always throwing herself in headfirst, anything to get a story. You know she camped out all night in an oak tree, in the middle of December, just to get proof Farmer Goose was keeping those puppies locked up in his shed.
“At first, I told her to keep me in the dark. It was easier if I didn’t have to hear about it until one day, I got to the mail before she did. The sick, twisted things some lunatic had said to her, because she had exposed them in the paper. After that, we talked, and we both agreed that Harper would take less dangerous assignments. That was the promise she made to me.”
Furious tears ran down his face. “We were happy together. We wanted a family. There would always be some piece of scum waiting to be exposed, but there was only one Harper Taylor, and I couldn’t lose her. When she ran off that night, I followed her to stop her, but I was too slow. I had no idea where she was going and I l-lost her. I lost her!”
His fist flew to his mouth, pressing hard as an awful keening noise came out of him.
Glancing over his shoulder, Michael stepped back. His sister watched from the doorway, looking just as lost as he felt.
Michael Grimm knew how to read people. It was the one thing he knew he did well, a talent that served him on every case... until now.
Torn in two, Michael didn’t know how to reconcile the broken man standing in front of him with the one tearing through his living room.
“Alright, Kaiden,” Michael said softly. “You say you didn’t hurt your wife so let’s end this right now. Open the case, and if the gun is how it’s supposed to be. Old and creaky from not being touched in years, then we’ll leave, and I’ll give you the apology you’ll rightly deserve. Open it.”
Kaiden sniffed, roughly scrubbing his face. “Fine. Then I want you both out of my house.” He bent down, scrabbling at the latches. “Accusing me of killing Harper as if... I could... ever...”
He trailed off, eyes wide. The gun case was open and inside...
...was nothing at all.
“I-I DON’T UNDERSTAND!”
“Kaiden Rowe, you are under arrest for the murder of Harper Rowe—”
“It wasn’t me!” he screamed as Spencer dragged him down the hall and out onto the lawn. “It was there! I swear the gun was there!”
“You have the right to remain silent—”
“You have to believe me! Grimm!? Grimm! Do something!”
Michael followed them out. Monica and Samira on his rear. “There’s nothing I can do, Kaiden.”
“Anything you say can and will—”
Spencer might as well have been talking to himself.
“But I told you the truth!” he screamed, eyes wild. “I loved her! Help me!”
“What is going on here?”
A figure darted up the lawn. Nelson Finley charged at Spencer, but found three uniformed officers in his path.
“Sir, do not interfere!” Samira shoved Michael aside.
“Get your hands off of him,” Finley roared, spittle flying. “He had nothing to do with it. It was Antarr!”
From his side, Monica said quietly, “We all thought so. Everything pointed at him. To think it was Kaiden the whole time. He must have had the viruses wipe her computers to put a stop to her hunt. When that didn’t work, he took it a step too far.” She shook her head. “Antarr had nothing to do with it.”
“It was about Antarr,” Michael said. “He was still the baseball that caused this crack. She may have promised to take safer assignments, but that promise couldn’t be applied to him. Not to the man that killed her sister.”
A ringer went off, causing them to jump.
Monica stuck her hand in her pocket and pulled out her phone. She glanced at the screen.
“Oh my goodness,” she cried, shoving him. “It’s Dougie.”
“What? It is?”
She quickly hit accept. “Hello?”
“Grimm!? Grimm! Please!”
Monica clapped her hand over her ear. “What did you say?” She walked away. And Michael wanted to follow but Kaiden’s screams were getting more insistent.
He cursed, stepping off the porch to heed the man.
“Please help me,” he said desperately. “I swear I don’t know where the gun went.” Standing there in his boxers, unwashed and handcuffed, he didn’t lo
ok nearly so threatening.
“You’re saying it disappeared? How?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t looked in that case in years. It’s just been sitting in the garage.” He lurched forward, trying to get closer with Spencer restraining him. “You have to help me.”
He shook his head. “My job isn’t to help you. It’s to get justice for your wife.” Michael looked back at his sister. “And we’re going to get the final proof that we need.”
“Proof?” Samira asked, leaving the officers to deal with a raving Finley. “What proof?”
Michael gestured at Monica. “She’s on the phone with her hacker right now. Learning the name of the person who sent the viruses. The killer.”
“Hold on. They called back? Who is the hacker?”
“No one,” Michael said quickly.
“Grimm—”
“Mo,” he called as she came down the porch steps. “What did he say? Did he find out who it was?”
Nodding, Monica glanced down at her phone.
“Did he give you a name?” Samira asked.
“Yes,” she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper.
Spencer craned his neck over Kaiden’s shoulder. “Who, Mo?”
The entire crowd had fallen silent. Kaiden had stopped his struggling. Finley cut his rant short.
“It’s... um...” Monica looked from Michael to Kaiden. “Michael, the person who wiped Harper’s computers was...”
He nodded. “Kaiden Rowe.”
“What?! No, I’m telling you it wasn’t—”
“It wasn’t him,” Monica said over the noise. “Michael, it was Ximena Cordova.”
Chapter Eight
“ARE YOU SURE?”
“Yes.”
“You know we can’t just take his word for it. I need to speak to him myself,” Samira said.
“He doesn’t do cops,” Monica replied, while he gazed at Ximena through the two-way glass.
“I don’t care, Mo. You need to bring him in.”
Michael stood to the side, listening to their argument with half an ear. He was still and silent. He had been this way since the night before when Monica announced the name of the person who sent the viruses. The person who all along they had said was Harper’s killer.