The Reclusive Widow (The Widow Taker Book 3)

by Kennedy Layne

  “She’s resting quite a bit, allowing her body to heal after the attack,” Ridge said, having carefully chosen his words. “She’s anxious for Agent Malone to apprehend the suspect so that she can get back to living her life normally.”

  Detective Rudolph nodded his understanding before giving Ridge a glimpse into why he’d asked after Lily in the first place.

  “I was one of the detectives assigned to investigate her husband after his incident. The DA wanted a solid case going into trial,” Detective Rudolph said, reaching for the thermos that he must have brought from home. “Ms. Hudson was basically ostracized by the general public for crimes that he was responsible for committing, even after she did everything that she could to cooperate with us. She’s a real nice lady, too. It was a shame how his parents shifted the blame and turned the community against her.”

  This was the first time hearing that Parker Hudson’s family had something to do with how Lily had been treated after her husband’s arrest. He’d purposefully shied away from researching her past or her husband’s crime. If Lily felt the need to share more details with him than she already had, then he’d be willing to lend an unbiased ear. Other than that, there was no need to dredge up the past considering their current situation.

  Ridge was a big believer in personal responsibility. Only a coward would attempt to shift the blame for something they themselves had done, especially in an attempt to reduce suffering the consequence of their actions.

  He knew all too well about leaving life-altering aftermaths to the past. He often found assigning one’s self-blame was like carrying around a bag of bricks. One could break his or her own back trying to carry the baggage of a life spent in the military fighting an enemy whose only aim was to kill a person for what they represented. He had held himself to the precepts of an honorable fighter. It was said that a Marine should be no better friend, but they were also no worse enemy.

  Ridge wholeheartedly ascribed to that code of conduct. He conducted himself with compassion when possible, yet with ruthless efficiency when accomplishing the task at hand.

  “I heard that Mr. and Mrs. Hudson are giving interviews to any media outlet that wants to know more about the one woman who escaped the death grip of a serial killer. They are selling their line of crap to anyone who will swallow their bullshit,” Detective Rudolph shared with disgust as he unscrewed the cap of his thermos. “Those people have no sense of common decency. They feel free to displace any sense of responsibility onto Ms. Hudson. If I were you, I’d keep the television off for the next few days.”

  “I appreciate the heads up,” Ridge said with a nod, holding out hope that Detective Rudolph was assigned to the protective detail on a more permanent basis. He glanced down his driveway, which was nowhere near as long as the one to Lily’s house. “I should get back inside. Let me know if you need anything, whether it’s a refill on that thermos or to use a warm head. I can’t imagine the heater in that trailer is keeping up too well.”

  Ridge didn’t waste any time making his way back to the porch. He glanced over to the heavy-duty orange extension cord that he’d supplied to the trailer as a power drop. It ran underneath the garage door into a twenty-amp GFCI power outlet. He’d have to check on it when he went back inside, though. Heaters could draw a lot of power. He needed to see if the outlet was heating up.

  The ache in his shoulder had begun to deepen. The stormfront that was bringing with it five inches of snow had to be only a few miles out. Hopefully, whoever was going to drop off the case files did so before the roads got to the point where they were impassable.

  Lily wasn’t anywhere in the living room when Ridge reentered the house. He immediately turned to the brand-new panel and punched in the eight-digit code that would reset the alarm to Stay-At-Home mode. He picked up on the faint sound of her voice coming from the kitchen. She was obviously on the phone with someone.

  Ridge removed his coat and hung it up on the hook while scraping his boots on the foyer rug that he’d put down in front of the door. He still didn’t feel comfortable taking his Gortex-lined combat boots off should something occur that would have them fleeing the house. The odds were against such an event happening, but he’d never been much of a gambler when it came to security.

  He pulled down his sweater to better cover his firearm that he’d holstered at his waist.

  “…thank you for letting me know.”

  Lily’s soft words carried throughout cabin. The plastic sheeting that was hanging over a quarter of the kitchen’s length slightly amplified the light echo. He didn’t want to interrupt, so he tended to the fire that he’d started before their Scrabble game. The hearth needed another log of the freshly chopped hardwood that he’d brought in earlier this morning. Tomorrow, he’d have to set up a card table where they could play board games in the living room. He’d noticed that she kept tucking her hands underneath her legs to ward off the chill that always seemed to seep into the kitchen from the bay window that he’d put in as part of his renovations.

  He made a mental note to see if it was possible to reroute another duct to the kitchen over the sink where the window was installed. His father had always taught him that there was no point in completing a job if it wasn’t done right in the first place.

  “…shouldn’t give it a second thought, Janice. I haven’t let anything they have to say bother me in a very long time. Listen, I really should go. Thanks for checking in with me, and I’ll let you know when I’m back at the house. I’ll even make you those snickerdoodle cookies that you like so much.”

  Despite Lily telling Janice Simone not to give the topic they were speaking about a second thought, it was evident that wasn’t the case. Ridge gripped the fire poker a little harder than was necessary. He hadn’t wanted to cause her anymore undue stress, but Janice had no doubt shared the same news that Detective Rudolph had given him moments before.

  The tension in Lily’s voice was evident, but there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to shield her from whatever the Hudson family might decide to say on national television. Hell, in retrospect…it may have been a better choice for her to leave town, after all.

  The new alarm system caught Ridge’s attention. The security sensors didn’t have that annoying chirp that most others had when being triggered. Instead, it alerted with a subtle chime. The delivery they were expecting was arriving earlier than he’d anticipated, but maybe going over the details of the case would give Lily something else to focus on other than hearing the obviously biased opinions about her character from a convicted criminal’s family members. Why the media hadn’t publicly solicited the serial killer’s thought on her character was beyond him. It made about as much sense as asking her former in-laws about their opinions.

  Ridge could only guess that the individual delivering the case files was a messenger from a bonded delivery service that Townes had engaged when he’d requested the file through official channels. Though the man liked to work within the confines of the law whenever possible, he didn’t always do so. He had received permission this time around from the Supervisory Special Agent in Charge of the New Haven field office to retrieve an authorized copy of what had already been submitted and vetted through the proper channels.

  Ridge wasn’t sure what Lily expected to find within the manila folders that were likely packed full of useless but necessary information that had been collected since the Federal Bureau of Investigations had gotten involved with the case. Multiple interviews, numerous criminal reports, forensic data that they probably wouldn’t completely understand, and several crime scene photographs that were probably best left unseen. All that and more had to be collected and placed inside each murder book that was connected to the so-called Widow Taker. He fully expected the files to fill a stock carboard box used to deliver reams of paper. There might even be more than one.

  Ridge carefully set the fire poker back into its stand while Lily ended her phone call. She’d heard the subtle chime, as well. Maybe the interruption w
as for the best. Her focus could be on something other than the unsettling news about her former in-laws.

  The one nice characteristic about the new security system was the clear, colored image that the high-definition video camera outside captured of who was walking up the front porch steps. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a stranger from some random courier service.

  It was Agent Dean Malone, and he was hand-delivering the case files himself.

  Ridge loathed being put on the defensive, but that was the exact tact that he would need to take if he were to soothe what was warranted annoyance over the interference that he and Lily had just imposed on Dean.

  “Shit,” he muttered to himself, completely understanding the agent’s ire. Ridge swung open the door and was grateful that Lily had yet to walk into the living room. “Dean, hear me out before you give me the lecture that you so clearly want to make right now.”

  “Whatever excuse you’re about to come up with better be damned good, because I have better things to do with my time than—”

  “Ridge isn’t the one to blame for requesting the case files, Agent Malone.” Lily was standing on the threshold of the kitchen. She’d wrapped her arms around her waist, though he didn’t think it was due to her wound. It was a defensive posture that she most likely had adopted ever since Janice told her about the Hudsons going on a media tour to sell their agenda. “I asked Townes Calvert to obtain them for me, but you have my word that I won’t interfere with your investigation. I just…”

  Ridge couldn’t stand the helpless tremor that had reentered Lily’s voice.

  “Whatever Townes Calvert has over my supervisor’s chain of command must be damn good, because Archer doesn’t roll over for just anyone.” Dean’s sigh of resignation was audible. “You didn’t have to go over my head if you wanted to see the case files.”

  “We both felt that there could be something in your investigation that might prompt Lily to remember something from the night that she was attacked,” Ridge clarified, refusing to apologize for either of them. “As Lily already stated, we won’t interfere with your investigation. We’re just hoping to bring some perspective to an otherwise meaningless detail.”

  Besides, the request had been made and met.

  Townes had that kind of influence, and there was nothing more to discuss.

  “There’s something else that we need to discuss,” Dean said, stepping inside the cabin so that Ridge could close the front door behind him. He handed over what amounted to at least six large, bulky files that were each bound with large rubber bands that all filled a standard-sized cardboard file box just like Ridge had suspected. “Paul Harrison woke up earlier today. His wife is due with their first child any week now, and he was originally reluctant to talk about who attacked him for fear that he would put his wife and unborn child in harm’s way. Fortunately, he agreed to a protective detail for the two of them.”

  “Are you saying that Paul Harrison knows who attacked me and killed those women?” Lily asked, taking a step closer to them as Dean removed his dress coat. He shook his head when Ridge offered to hang it up on the last remaining hook, and instead draped it over his arm. “Have you made an arrest?”

  “Not exactly,” Dean cautioned, as if warning Lily that she was getting ahead of herself. “Agent Roche and I spent the remainder of the day trying to piece together Mr. Harrison’s somewhat disjointed statement. He’s not even sure how he ended up at the hospital. Anyway, I had planned on stopping by to discuss it with you when I received a call from my supervisor to hand deliver the case files to you.”

  Dean’s wryness wasn’t hard to pick up on, and he zeroed his attention in on Lily.

  “What did you plan to discuss with me?” she asked hesitantly, staying where she was across the room. “I already told you that I didn’t see my attacker’s face. I have no idea who he could be.”

  “But you did grow up here in Winter Heights,” Dean pointed out, taking a seat on the couch. Ridge set the files on the table that was positioned between the two recliners, motioning for Lily to take a seat in one of them while they finished their discussion. Once everyone was comfortable, Dean finally got straight to the point. “Ms. Hudson, do you remember a boy by the name of Alan Harrison?”

  “Harrison?” Ridge asked, exchanging a glance with Lily. Her life might stand a relatively good chance of getting back to normal sooner than expected. “Are you saying that the man responsible for attacking Lily is related to Paul Harrison, the man who is currently in the hospital?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Alan Harrison.

  Lily recalled the quiet, freckled, blond-haired boy who used to sit in the last row of the school bus. He’d been somewhat reserved and studious, unlike some of her old friends during those early childhood years. She didn’t remember him being mean to other kids, he never caused any trouble that she could recall, and he most always read a book during recess. She’d been older than him, but the elementary had been from kindergarten through sixth grade. She did recollect that his father had died and little Alan had moved away afterward, but she’d never made the connection to Paul.

  Granted, the two boys had the same last name, but those types of associations went over children’s heads if the relationship wasn’t thrown in their face, especially with a common name like Harrison. There had to be a dozen of them in the phone book for a town the size of Winter Heights, even way back when.

  “I vaguely remember Alan from elementary school, but I didn’t know that he was related to Paul,” Lily said honestly, wishing she wasn’t about to disappoint Agent Malone. They’d finally been given a name, but she couldn’t verify that he was the one who attacked her. “Looking back, I guess they did resemble each other—blond hair, freckles, and brown eyes. I don’t even think that I ever saw Paul speak to Alan, though. Paul was two or maybe even three years older, and he usually hung out with Darryl Brighton and some other neighborhood boys his own age.”

  Lily sat back gingerly in the recliner, mindful of her stitches. The warmth of the fire was helping keep the chill that she’d acquired in the kitchen at bay, especially after hearing what Janice had said regarding Rosemary and Malcolm Hudson. Parker’s parents had never forgiven her for willfully testifying for the prosecution at his hearing.

  “Paul and Alan Harrison are half-brothers. Same father, different mother. Paul said that he began to suspect his half-brother after hearing one of Quinn Simmons’ podcasts talking about the profile that we’d given in a statement. Caucasian male, between the ages of thirty and thirty-five, mother was a widow, and various other factors that Paul recognized in Alan.” Agent Malone focused his attention of Lily. “I’m not sure that you’re aware of this, but Rhonda Benson was killed earlier the same night that you were attacked in your home. Rhonda was a bartender at the pub. Not only did she work there, but she and Paul were close friends. We believe that he’d previously told her of his suspicions regarding Alan.”

  “Why didn’t they come forward?”

  Ridge asked the same question that was on Lily’s mind.

  “According to Paul, he hadn’t wanted to say anything without first being sure of his fears. I’m assuming that Paul reached out to Alan, who in turn panicked upon being discovered. Our interview with Paul was cut short by the nurse on duty,” Agent Malone revealed, even taking the time to glance at his watch. “I’ll be heading back over to the hospital shortly to see if we can conclude our interview with some more in-depth questions.”

  “Bright fits the profile.” Lily hadn’t meant for her statement to come out so abruptly. “He was brought in early on for questioning and ruled out as a suspect, wasn’t he?”

  “Mr. Brighton was brought in for questioning, yes,” Agent Malone replied, though he’d conveniently left out the part where the pub owner was no longer a suspect. “I’ve found it best not to rule anyone out until we have solid evidence against one individual.”

  “Do you have Alan Harrison in custody?” Ridge asked.

  “No
, not yet. We have his last known address as being in Ohio. An arrest warrant has been issued that the sheriff had signed by the local magistrate earlier today, as well as issuing an APB in Ohio and the surrounding states.” Agent Malone gathered his dress coat and stood, motioning toward the stack of case files. “I decided to deliver what you requested personally, since I thought you’d want to know that we now have a suspect and are doing our best to apprehend him at present.”

  “Agent Malone, please know that my wanting to review the files had nothing to do with my belief in your abilities to find the man who attacked me,” Lily replied, completely understanding why he would have taken such a request as a slight. She wasn’t sure she could make amends, but she tried anyway. “Truthfully, I just need to feel as if I’m doing something to help. I feel so inadequate not being able to do more.”

  Agent Malone nodded, though she figured it was an automatic response. The fact that Ridge remained quiet spoke volumes. He hadn’t wanted Townes to use his influence to obtain the files, and he’d only done so because she’d asked for the favor.

  “I’m heading back to the hospital.” Agent Malone put on his dress coat before reaching into one of the pockets to pull out a pair of black leather gloves. “Paul Harrison should be able to give us more information regarding his half-brother’s current whereabouts. If all goes well, your ordeal could all be over with by tomorrow morning.”

  “I hope so,” Lily murmured, looking on as Ridge stood and followed Agent Malone to the front door.

  She glanced at the stack of files, which seemed pointless to dig into right now given the information that they’d both just heard.

  Rhonda Benson had been killed the night that Lily had been attacked, and Paul Harrison had been stabbed numerous times by someone he’d likely trusted his entire life. They might not have been close as children, but family was family. One learned the importance of such ties later in life.