Donnie approached the porch step but then remained on the concrete. Morgan feared his weight might further compromise the structure.
Becky returned a few minutes later wearing an unzipped, dirty, black coat and carrying a pack of Camel cigarettes and a lighter in one hand. A newly lit cig burned in her other hand as she closed the door.
She faced the detectives, inhaled from her cigarette, then blew a cloud of smoke into the air. “High school. Humph.” Becky half laughed. “Sure was a long time ago. Senior year really sucked for me.”
“How so?” Morgan leaned back. The rickety railing loosened under her weight.
“Oh, those cops made a big deal of me and Suzy going to that movie. Which we never did.”
“You never went to the movie?” Donnie placed his hand on the rail, supporting it where Morgan leaned.
“Yeah. We wanted to see Disturbing Behavior, which none of our friends would go to. Me and Suzy had a thing for scary movies.” Becky grimaced, then inhaled deeply from her cigarette.
“But you never went?” Morgan persisted.
“Naw. Life was rough after that day. I barely graduated—so depressed about losing my friend. Other kids blamed me too.” She puffed on her cigarette. “Couldn’t get my shit together after that. Didn’t go to college. Couldn’t keep a job. See this?” She waved a hand at the building. “This is all I have. I got pregnant and married a fucking drug-dealing deadbeat. He’s dead now, by the way. Overdosed. And me and my son get rent. And we survive.”
“The investigating detective spent a long time questioning you.”
“Fuck. I never been so scared in my life.”
Morgan rubbed the notebook in her pocket. “You told him that you ditched Suzanne. Those were your words.”
“Look. I did what I did. You can’t arrest me for it now, right?”
“Arrest you for what?” Donnie asked.
“I was with Mark and some other boys from school. We broke into someone’s house that night. We stole their stereo and a bottle of vodka. We got so drunk I hardly remembered it the next day. And when the police came to question me … Shit. I froze. I didn’t want to get caught.”
“Where do you think Suzanne went?” Morgan asked.
Becky nodded and looked out into the distance. Her head followed a car driving past the house. “If she didn’t see me there, she would have gone to see Eks. Ekhard Klein was her boyfriend of the moment. But he said she never came over. His sister vouched for him. As if she was trustworthy.”
“Why didn’t you trust Caryn?” Donnie asked.
“Who?” Becky tapped another cigarette out of the pack.
“Caryn Klein, Ekhard’s sister,” Morgan explained.
“Is that her name? Shit, everyone called her Ceecee.”
Donnie nodded. Morgan didn’t pull out her notebook. She didn’t want to scare Becky into thinking she was under investigation and clam up. “So you didn’t trust Ceecee? Why not?”
“Ceecee was dangerous. She was the kind of bitch who kept to herself. Unless you crossed her. Then, ha ha! Then you’d be expecting bad shit to happen.” Becky’s open-mouthed laugh revealed yellow teeth.
“Like what?” Donnie asked.
“If she was mad at you, she’d come at you in the lunchroom with a handful of food and shove it down your shirt. Hell, once she cut off a girl’s ponytail in a crowded hallway between classes. We couldn’t prove it. No one would say they saw her. But I was sure she did it.”
“Why was Suzanne dating Ekhard?” Morgan knew the answer from Trina’s point of view but wanted Becky’s.
“I don’t know. I didn’t get it. He was a world-class loser. And trust me, I know losers.” Becky lit a new cigarette. “So they found her body. After all this time. She was murdered, wasn’t she?”
“That’s right,” Donnie answered flatly.
Becky shrank back toward the door. “You don’t think I did it, do you? I didn’t kill her. I told them that back then. If you can find Mark Whitby, he can vouch for me.”
Morgan stood up, causing the rail to moan. “No, Becky. We aren’t investigating you.”
The front door opened, and a tall, scruffy young man stepped out with eyebrows arched in concern. “Mom? Everything okay?”
Becky’s shoulders dropped two inches at the appearance of her son. “Yeah, it’s fine. Go on back inside.”
“You sure?” He scratched his shaggy, unshaven face.
“I’m sure,” she reassured him and took another long drag.
After he closed the door, Becky said, “Reggie’s a good kid. Looks after me.”
“Mrs. Parks, is there anything else you’d like to say about the day of Suzanne’s death?” Donnie shuffled his feet. Toying with his car keys, he looked ready to close the meeting.
Becky took a quick drag and blew smoke at the floor. “I just wondered if Ekhard found out that Suzy was going to dump him. He was the quiet type. Too quiet, you know what I mean? I never liked him.”
CHAPTER 25
MORGAN
With the stealth of a serial rapist, the assailant descended on Morgan. Stan’s reputation preceded him by the dozens. Known for wet, unfulfilling relationships that didn’t last the night, the man couldn’t see the error of his ways. Yet, women lined up around the block to sleep with him. And now, Stan snaked his arm around Morgan’s neck in a choke hold.
His hot breath on the back of Morgan’s neck made her cringe. The nasty faded smell of cologne permeated his sweaty shirt. “I finally caught you, Minx-y Morgan. When are you going to go out with me?” Stan hissed into her ear.
Stan had asked out every single woman at Indy Metro PD. Though Morgan had repeatedly said no, he kept trying. Through gritted teeth, Morgan replied, “Never, sleaze.”
“I know you want me,” he oozed. Stan, who was a foot taller, stooped over her.
“Like hell, I do.” His strangle technique was poor. It gave Morgan the perfect opportunity. In preparation to take him down, she tucked in her chin. She placed a firm grip on his choke-hold arm, then slid one foot backward and pushed his leg out from under him, simultaneously dropping to her knees. Morgan used gravity and her short stature to her advantage. As she went down to the mat, she forced him into a head-first flip over her shoulders.
Stan somersaulted and hit the floor hard and flat on his back. His long thin body splayed out on the mat while Morgan held his arm taut. As practiced, she pulled his arm straight out above his head and flattened his palm against the mat. She kneeled on the soft part of his inner arm, causing him to arch his back and cry out.
“Stop asking me out, you asshole.” Morgan whispered the command, giving it intensity.
Stan smiled at her. “Gotta keep trying. You know that, don’t you?”
She put her weight on his arm. “I could dislocate your shoulder.”
Through squinting eyes and pursed lips, Stan cried out, “Uncle! Uncle! Shit, Morgan, let go.”
She released him and stood up to a smattering of applause around the gym. Other female officers hooted and cheered. Training had ended. She walked to a folding chair where she’d parked her gym bag and bottled water.
“Nice job, there. You’ve been practicing.” A familiar man’s voice startled her.
Water splashed from the bottle down her chin. Morgan turned, surprised to see her brother Jeremy and his wife Dierdre standing at the edge of the mat. “Hey. What are you doing in town?”
“Just here for a visit. Donnie told me you’d be here.” He approached with open arms, offering a hug.
Morgan backed away with the excuse, “I’m all sweaty.”
“Do you think I care?” Jeremy swept in and wrapped his arms around Morgan. At his side, Dierdre smiled.
Morgan stepped away to look at him. A healthy new growth of stubble covered his chin. Brown eyes sparkled with his smile.
Dierdre said, “We came up for the Coldplay concert Saturday night. And we were hoping to spend some time with you beforehand.”
Morg
an embraced her sister-in-law. “It’s great to see you. Can I take you out to dinner?”
“Let us treat. We have some news to share,” Dierdre said.
“News?” Morgan asked.
Jeremy said, “I know you haven’t talked to Mom and Dad, they told me you never call.”
“I haven’t. What is it?”
Dierdre took Jeremy’s hand and said, “We’ll tell you at dinner.”
“Where are you staying? Adrienne and Bill are gone for the winter, you can stay in their bed.” Morgan offered.
Jeremy tilted his head and gazed toward his brunette wife. She nodded agreement to the unspoken question. “That would be great,” he said. “We were going to drive back right after the concert.”
“The concert won’t be over till late. Now you don’t have to.” Morgan beamed. She had missed her brother. Jeremy had been there for her during the roughest part of her life. He had lifted her up after Fay died. Now that Morgan lived two hours from Bloomington, they didn’t see each other as often. She regretted not making time for it.
* * *
Jeremy and Dierdre followed Morgan back to the Raffertys’ where she showed them to their room. After she showered and changed, they drove to Broad Ripple, the hipster center of Indy’s north side. Once he had parked along the canal, the three walked, scoping out menus to the newest eateries and brew pubs. They decided on a Greek restaurant and were seated near a window overlooking the patio beside the canal. Chilly breezes blew clusters of brown and yellow leaves between the patio chairs.
Sitting opposite her brother and Dierdre, Morgan looked at the wine list, but she couldn’t wait to ask the burning question. “Well? What’s this news?”
The way Dierdre looked at Jeremy, Morgan knew instantly. Her eyebrows lifted with joy. “Am I going to be an aunt?”
Jeremy blushed.
“Yes!” Dierdre said. “We’re due in April,” she beamed.
“I am so excited for you!” Morgan said. It was true.
“It means you’ll have to come visit more often,” he said.
Morgan wanted to, but she was instantly torn between that and her work. “I’d love to …”
Jeremy leaned in, “But?” He seemed to have sensed her hesitation.
Morgan shook her head. “You won’t believe me.” Will he be proud of me? After all this time?
When Morgan had graduated from IU with her degree in criminology, she and Jeremy talked about her desire to find Fay’s killer. Because he’d been there when it happened, he knew what Morgan had gone through. When Jeremy found out Morgan’s reason for pursuing this career, he told her to get help. He asked her to see a shrink. Six months of weekly visits hadn’t helped at all. Morgan didn’t think it was necessary to continue, so she quit. Jeremy found out and they had gotten in an argument about it. Ultimately, Morgan won. She never did go back to her doctor. She didn’t see the need to.
Their waiter came and poured water, giving Morgan time to think about how she wanted to share her news with Jeremy. She ordered a glass of Cabernet and listened to the waiter explain the chef’s specials.
When he’d taken their orders, Jeremy picked up right where they’d left it. “I’ll believe anything. Remember, we have no secrets.”
Morgan looked at Dierdre. Her chin-length brown hair was streaked with purple. How much of this has Jeremy told her? “I’m working a new case.”
“You’re always working a new case. That can’t possibly keep you from Bloomington.” The way he joked, Morgan knew he didn’t suspect what she was about to tell him.
She took a deep breath and gave him her news in a whisper. “I may have found him.” She twisted her napkin out of the ring and smoothed it out in her lap.
“Who?” Dierdre asked.
Jeremy’s grin faded. “This isn’t what I think it is.”
If Jeremy wouldn’t give her encouragement, she’d have to lift herself up. Morgan nodded to spur herself on. “It is.” She looked into his dark-brown eyes and said, “I may have found Fay’s killer.”
Jeremy let out a breath.
“That’s great,” Dierdre said supportively.
“No it isn’t.” Jeremy argued. “I thought we were done with this,” he said to Morgan.
Dierdre’s eyebrows raised in confusion. Clearly, she didn’t know anything about this, which was fine with Morgan. Because of the distance between them, Morgan hadn’t taken the time to get closer to her sister-in-law. Now she wished she had. Perhaps she would be on Morgan’s side. If Jeremy wouldn’t be, Morgan needed someone. “I know you think it’s crazy …”
“It is!”
“The strike patterns are the same.”
“What’s the point of revenge, Mo? Nothing can come from that.” Jeremy gulped down some water. Dierdre did too, cowering a little behind her glass.
“It’s an unsolved crime,” Morgan stated.
“Leave it alone. It’s just going to make you crazy.”
Morgan raised her voice. “I have to know who killed her, don’t you understand?”
“I think you need help.” His statement echoed off the ceiling. It looked like other patrons had stopped to listen. Morgan’s ears began to ring.
The angry look that Jeremy gave Morgan was cooled by the arrival of their wine. He thanked the waiter pleasantly then rested his fingers on the stem of his glass. Morgan copied him. She needed Jeremy to understand.
“I hope Coldplay plays Magic tomorrow night. I love that song.” Dierdre sipped a coke and tried to change the subject.
Looking down at the table, Jeremy shook his head. “We need to talk.”
Morgan didn’t want to. “I thought you understood.”
“I guess I don’t,” Jeremy said. He was looking Morgan in the eye.
Morgan couldn’t explain how driven she was by this. She had lost days when Fay disappeared. The hole in her memory burned her. It fueled her motivation and had become an addiction desperately seeking the next fix. Somehow, she felt connected to Fay’s disappearance, but she didn’t know how. If only …
Dierdre took Jeremy’s hand. She looked up at him through thick dark lashes, giving him a signal.
Softening, he relaxed his shoulders and sat back in the chair.
“You don’t know how it was for me,” Morgan said. “How it is.”
CHAPTER 26
MORGAN: 16 Years Ago
“What’s going on, Mo?” Hunched over with his elbows on his knees, Jeremy sat on the edge of Morgan’s unmade bed. Piles of dirty clothes littered the floor, making it impossible for anyone to walk into her bedroom. The stench in the room came from an old pizza box under the desk, numerous fast-food bags in various corners, unwashed sheets, and foul body odor.
A hoodie pulled over her head hid greasy plaits that hung lifelessly on her cheeks but could not disguise the smell. She hadn’t bothered to shower in over a week. Even then, her mother had badgered her relentlessly to wash.
“Please,” Jeremy whispered. “Talk to me.”
Morgan slouched, practically horizontal, in a hard, wooden desk chair with her feet up on an overturned laundry basket. She shrugged.
“What’s going on here?” Jeremy asked. One arm swept a wide arc indicating the entire room, the entirety of Morgan’s life.
Beneath her hood, she sniffed back her answer.
Sadness filled his eyes. “This isn’t good.”
She didn’t answer. Empty plastic pop bottles and beer cans littered the desk to her right. Close to the edge, on top of a small spiral notebook with the picture of a kitten on the cover, headphones from a Walkman squeaked out a rhythm.
“Mom and Dad are worried.”
“So. What do they know?” The words croaked from her dry throat. Out of the corner of her eye, Morgan saw a shadow cross her bedroom door. “Go away, Mom.”
Her mother chirped, “I’m going.” She shut the door.
A bitter thought came to Morgan. “Did Mom call you? Is that why you came?”
Jeremy sat
up tall. “No. Don’t even think that. I came here on my own.”
Morgan threw him a sideways glance.
“I ran into your friends last weekend.”
“Who?”
“Elaine and Trevor. Remember them? You used to hang out with them all the time. Elaine says you haven’t been taking any calls. She hasn’t seen you since …” He stopped.
He almost said since I found Fay’s body, Morgan thought. She hunched down, letting the hood slide forward over her eyes. Since that day, she hadn’t left her bedroom except for once: the day she joined the search party, the most devastating day of her life.
Jeremy kicked a towel and a pair of jeans out of the way, clearing a spot on the floor in front of him. “I came over to help. And damn it, Morgan, I’m not leaving till we figure this out.”
Without moving a muscle, her gaze met his.
“I know what happened. Everyone knows what happened.”
How can he know? I don’t even know. Bile rose to her throat as her stomach clenched.
He waited for her to reply.
She glared at him from under the hoodie.
“Fay is gone, and that’s the cold hard truth.”
Under her hood, Morgan’s eyes filled with pools that overflowed and dripped down her cheeks without a sound. Her throat closed, making it impossible, even if she’d wanted to, to say a word. Had she cried since Fay left? She couldn’t remember.
After several minutes of her silent sobbing, he continued. “There is something. But …” He reached for the laundry basket under her feet and tugged at it. “But … you don’t want to hear it.”
She kept her feet on the basket. Reverse psychology, Morgan thought. He says I don’t want to hear it, so of course I do.
He tugged. She resisted.
She asked, “What?” with a breath.
“There’s something you can do. Something you can do to help find her murderer.” He tugged harder, removing the basket from under her feet, which forced her to put her feet on the floor and sit up straighter.
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