by Sadie Jacks
I swallowed again. Wished I had some water or something. I shook back my shoulders. It didn’t matter if my throat was dry. I was saying these names.
“Joining me tonight is Dr. Jessa Sweeten. She’ll be reading the causes of death for the seventy-three victims of Dr. Ethan Embry. I will be reading their names. The friend who helped pull me from the ashes of the devastation of my marriage, will be reading the victims’ birth and death dates.”
“This is an outrage!”
“You can’t keep us here!”
“Where are the authorities? I demand my attorney!”
Shouts and cries of injustice and wrongdoing sounded through the vast space. Men and women who had just moments ago been participating in some ridiculous audience participation gambit because they thought I’d landed a rich new guy. They were the same who had availed themselves of Winslow’s services. I made sure to keep track of the familiar names and faces.
“Shut. Your. Fucking. Mouths,” I said it softly.
The room went quiet as a tomb.
“You will all be standing through this reading. For those of you who are innocent, this is to teach you to pick better associates. For those of you who are guilty, this is to teach you that you are not above the law. We have irrefutable evidence that condemns each and every one of you.”
Jessa came up on stage, a glass of water in her hand. I could have kissed her. I took it from her, took a drink.
“We have the New Trenadie police department waiting to escort the guilty to the police station. Now shut your fucking mouths and respect the dead women and girls you helped kill.”
Chapter 41 – Ryker
My chest swelled with pride as Willow, Jessa, and Tali all gathered on the stage.
“Taylor Pankoswki, age fourteen,” Willow said, her voice strong. A picture showed on the screen behind us. A young girl who had seen too much life in her years. Her blue eyes were hazy, her brown hair hung in straggles down her face.
A woman in the crowd screamed. “That’s my baby. That monster had my baby?”
“Born January 14, 2006. Died –”
The woman shouted and wailed.
Tali’s fists clenched. “Died June 28, 2019.”
“Cause of death: traumatic blood loss,” Jessa said.
The woman collapsed into tears and grief. Several around her either moved to help comfort her or stepped away. Their gazes lowered, their shoulders hunched.
The guilty would out themselves by the time this was done.
The next picture was displayed. The group of gathered monsters and innocents sucked in a collective breath. “Marigold Lightfoot, age fifty-five.” Willow didn’t take her gaze off the crowd. Blue eyes, red hair, rosy cheeks, and a pretty smile shone from a face that had been snuffed out too early.
“Born June 3, 1965. Died April 19, 2016.”
“Cause of death: traumatic blood loss.”
The three women who recited the statistics, gave the victims back their names, never faltered in their duties. The woman at the back who ran the presentation was ready for every single victim.
Mothers and daughters, aunts and nieces, cousins and friends. My girls gave them back to their families. Helped lay their spirits to rest.
After close to two hours, the recitation of names, birth and death dates, and causes of death finally drew to a close. The crowd was silent with varying expressions of horror, hatred, anger, and rage. Amongst the most dramatic were those who’d had their sins brought into the light in public.
Willow turned to the people who had borne her. “Of those women and girls remembered tonight, you two are personally responsible for four. Taylor Pankowski, Juliet Martin, Heather Outsen, and Margaret Ying. Not only did you serve them up on a platter to a known serial killer, you stood in front of the cameras you loved and begged the good people of New Trenadie to stick together during the midst of the reign of terror.” She shook her head.
She turned back to the crowd. “To those of you who will be walked out of here in handcuffs, how dare you? How dare you think to live above the law but try to hide behind it when your own crimes come to light? How dare you mock those with less, see them as nothing but cattle or commodities in which to trade?” Her breath gasped out.
She took a moment, calmed herself. “To those of you who are innocent, do not think this absolves us.” She laid a hand to her chest. “We are a community. We should reach out a hand to those who are hurting. We should be the listening ear when someone speaks of horror. We should be the shield for the young and the unwanted. We might not be complicit in the tragedies of today. But there are always people who need a hand.” She smiled. “Be that hand.”
The room burst into furious applause. Brad Dodge and his Channel 5 cameraman darted forward. “Ms. Chase, what did you hope to accomplish with this elaborate reveal?”
Willow smiled. “These lives were stolen in the shadows, Mr. Dodge. I simply brought the criminals into the light. Each life matters. Should be celebrated. These lives were ended too soon, so we celebrate them now.”
I stepped up beside the woman with more strength in her little finger than most people I knew all put together. I pressed a kiss to her hair as I slid my hand around her hip. Across the room, I saw Wright lift his hand, point at himself.
I nodded. Turning to Willow, I whispered in her ear, “It seems our DA would like to make a few statements. He’s on his way up.”
She nodded. “We couldn’t have done this without the help of New Trenadie’s District Attorney, nor the wonderful men and women of the New Trenadie police department. DA Jerrod Wright is coming up here to speak to you all.”
We stepped back, let Wright take center stage. Willow leaned against me. I could feel the stress and tension oozing out of her.
At the back of the room, media swarmed in. A line of uniformed police officers kept them back from the stage. Wright waited for everyone to stop yelling at him. He raised a hand and waited.
He turned first to Willow. “Ms. Chase, thank you for allowing me to speak. I wish we had at least ten more of you in New Trenadie.” He started clapping.
Willow pushed farther into my side as if she were trying to hide behind me or steal my coat. I tightened my hold on her. I dug my fingers into her hip. Let her know that she was still here. That this was truly happening.
Wright turned back to the crowd and the media. “It seems many of you have been busy calling your lawyers.” He laughed. “Probably a good idea. But, in the end, nothing but an expensive call. Those of you who are innocent, please stand by. We would like to interview you about your colleagues. One of our finest will be by to get your name and contact information to set that up. To make this all official, and so I only have to do this once, please listen closely for your name.”
He grinned before he got his expression under control. “I will be reading a list of names. To those so named, please pay attention. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say, can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you? With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me or one of the officers detaining you?”
“Adam and Jennifer Abernathy. Louise Allcot. Colten Brestin. Martin and Verna Brookemeyer.”
I tuned out the rest of the names. Although, I do have to admit to enjoying the attempted scrambling of some of the monsters. One older lady even walloped one of the younger men trying to flee. A storm of flashes went off.
I smiled. I couldn’t wait to see that one in the papers tomorrow.
The Amatucci brothers were still standing on the side of the platform. Duct tape covered both Winslow’s and Beverly’s mouths. Winslow was glaring daggers of hate at his daughter.
I nudge Willow over to Jessa. “I’ll be right back.” I kissed her hair.
Walking over to the bastard, I squatted down to my haunches. “Winslow, it seems you’re of the mind that women
are nothing more than trash. That they are to be used by men in whatever way fetches the best benefit or profit.” Casually, I reached down, grabbed his dick. I shifted so the cameras couldn’t see what I was doing, no matter their angle.
His face blanched white as his eyes widened into the size of saucers. “You raped my mother to help you with a business deal.”
Beverly shrieked under her gag.
I looked at her. “Don’t pretend you didn’t know, you dirty bitch.”
She shrank back from me, color leaching from her face. She shook her head.
I turned back to the man who reminded me too much of my own father. I twisted his dick as Mas and Turo held him still for the punishment. “I’m going to make it my mission in life to make sure you are stuck in the worst prison. There were girls on your list, Winny. Know what the Brunos and Billys of prison do to men who pimp kids?”
His eyes tried to roll back up into his head.
I twisted his dick in the other direction. “I’m going to pay money, lots of it, to keep you alive. Just alive enough to enjoy the daily touch of the biggest dick in prison. Just when you think you’ve escaped into the arms of death, I’ll swoop in and make sure you’re given the best possible care to keep you among the living.” I squeezed down on his cock until I felt a muscle in my hand cramp. “Just like you did with your daughter. Just like you did to my mother.” I leaned forward. “Happy life, you sick motherfucker. I hope you get ripped apart so I can sew you up again and again.”
I dropped his dick, patted a hand to his cheek. It was clammy and cool. Grimacing, I wiped my hand on his tux jacket.
I looked up at Mas and Turo as I straightened. They nodded. Mas had a slight smile on his face I hadn’t seen before.
I went back to Willow’s side. Pulled her against me one more time. She curled into my body. She was shivering the slightest bit. I set her away for a second, pulled off my jacket. Wrapping it around her and that ridiculous excuse for a dress, I pulled her back under my arm.
Wright had finished reading off the list of names. “Once all the processing has been completed, I will be holding a press conference. It is my duty to inform you that Ethan Errington is dead. Once this case has been settled and all persons involved satisfied, the remainder of his estate to go to probate.” He turned to Willow again.
“As the executor of his will and estate, Willow Chase nee Errington, will be liquidating his assets. She has requested I inform you all, in addition to the families not represented here, that she will be setting up a shelter in New Trenadie for those who have been victims of human trafficking. While sex trafficking is the most publicized form of human trading, it is not the most expansive. If any of you would like to approach her about donating to this cause, please reach out to my office. We have set up a dedicated line to help streamline that process for her.”
The media roared with shouted questions and blinded us all with their flashes. The questions ranged from what had happened to her personally to inquiring if taking down her parents was her only plan. And my absolute favorite: “Ms. Chase, are you going to run for public office?”
Willow jolted. “Thank you for inquiring. Fuck no.”
Everyone laughed.
“You’re here with Mr. Penn. Is he the new man in your life?” another shouted.
Willow stepped from the shelter of my body, held up her left hand. “He’s mine for life.”
Fuck yes, I was.
Chapter 42 – Willow
Two days later
I hugged Daphne. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay any longer? I know Corrie would like you to,” I said with an eyebrow wiggle.
Daphne laughed. “That girl would sit at Massimo’s feet for the rest of their natural lives. No, we’re leaving. She has to get back to school on Monday, just like the normal girl she’s trying to be.”
I smiled. “Well, tell her I tried.”
Daphne smiled. “I’ll do that.” She looked around the two-story foyer of our new home. “You know, I never really thought about Ryker living anywhere other than in the Towers.” She turned back to me. “But this suits him. Suits both of you.”
I smiled. “And I can’t thank you enough for wrangling the team of movers. That was a huge blessing that I’ll never be able to repay you for.”
Her smile went soft. “You give him the love, support, protection, and care that I could never find within myself. If there is someone who can’t repay a blessing, it’s me to you. I hope I’m doing better with Corrie, but I know I failed miserably with Ryker.” She took me into her arms. “Thank you for giving my son everything I couldn’t. For giving him back to me.”
I hugged her. She had failed her son, in so very many ways. But she simply hadn’t had the tools at that point in her life to do any better. So many experienced a life for which they are ill-equipped. It is the lucky few who have the easier lives of matched tools and experience.
“You’re more than welcome here anytime. Give us a call and we’ll set it up,” I told her as she stepped back.
She dipped her head, brushed a hand over her cheek. “I’ll do that. Same to you for our home. We’ll have to get together so you can meet William.”
I smiled. “I’d like that.”
She turned towards the front doors. Ryker and Corrie were whispering like fiends. Mas was standing just inside the foyer near the stairs, his gaze happy.
Corrie jerked back, a look of heated disbelief on her face. “That’s not true!” She whipped her head to the side, her eyes searching for something.
They landed on me. She stomped over. “Ryker says that you shot the woman who was holding me captive.”
I blinked. “Well, I guess it depends on which woman you’re talking about. And word to the wise, Corrie. Never speak of shooting people outside this house. You could get us all in some trouble.”
Her cheeks flushed. “Sorry. Right. Sorry. I’ll remember that, I promise. But that woman in the room. Did you shoot her?”
My smile bloomed. “Yes. Her, I did shoot.”
Her eyes widened as her mouth dropped open. “Cracking shitballs.”
“Corrine Amaryllis! Where did you hear such disgusting language?” Daphne gaped at her daughter.
Corrie looked at me. Pokered up to her mother. “Nowhere. I’m just brilliant.”
I winked at the younger woman. She was Ryker with a vagina. I just hoped she had an easier go of life than he’d had.
Daphne heaved a sigh. “Tell your brother goodbye. We’ve got to get home to Dad.”
Corrie spun around and launched herself at Ryker. He caught her up in his arms, swung her around. I saw him whisper against her hair.
Whatever he said made her smile and nod. “Promise.”
He set her down and helped her get her feet under her. “Then I’ll hold you to it.”
Daphne walked over to her son. She lifted her cheek for him to buss. “Bye, Mom.”
“Goodbye, dear.” She looked at me over her shoulder, a light of fun in her blue eyes. “Start giving me grandbabies, yeah?” She walked out as her son stared after her with his mouth hanging open.
Corrie walked over to Mas, her steps sure and only slightly awkward. “Bye, Angel. See you later.”
Mas smiled, shook his head. “Goodbye, Corinne. Be good.”
As if he’d just professed his love to her, her cheeks heated and her eyes got all twinkly. She floated out of the house, a long sigh drifting in her wake.
Ryker shut the doors behind them. “Sweet fuck, I thought they’d never leave.” He scooped me up into his arms. He settled his lips against me. No longer new and bright, but so very tempting all the same.
Mas cleared his throat softly. “If we could get back to the security arrangements, I do have other things that need my attention.”
Ryker set me on my feet. We both turned to my adopted brother. “Have you heard anything?” Ryker asked.
Mas shook his head. “No. We are following the leads from Daphne. It will take time, but I a
m fully devoted to the search for my daughter.”
I nodded. “I know. If you ever need anything from either of us, you’ve only to call.”
He nodded. “I know this. Thank you.”
“Let’s go back to the study,” Ryker said as he ushered us all in there.
The Amatucci family was sitting around the conference table. Momma and Papa were at the head, facing the giant screen Nik had instructed to be hung on the south wall.
The woman herself was standing in front of it, a red laser pointer in her hand. She was circling a portion of Brazil on the map. “This is the last known contact for de Silva’s sister. Cousin. We’re still not sure on the relationship. De Silva was aces with data. I’m going to be asking the collective.”
Papa raised his hand, a happy smile on his face. “What is this collective to which you refer all the time?”
Nik’s cheeks heated. “A group of likeminded white hat data fiends.”
Ryker chuckled. “Try again in English, Nik.”
She waved that away. “A group of hackers who Robin Hood it.”
The mafia family of New Trenadie smiled and nodded. “Excellent. Are you their leader?” Papa asked.
Nik laughed. “No, there is no official leader. We just present issues. Whoever is free takes it on and sends back the info they find. If it’s a big task, like this or the Chase case, then we set up a tiered system. But it rotates depending on need.”
Papa smiled again. “You are very young to have such knowledge and social capital.”
Nik shrugged. “I’ve been playing on computers since I was five or six. I’m just good at getting them to do things.”
Papa shook his head. “We will teach you to stand with pride with your skills.” He winked at her.