Catch her death, p.3
Catch Her Death, page 3
Scotty appears to think about it. “We went out for breakfast.”
“Was that this morning?” she asks gently.
“Uh-huh. I had pancakes and syrup. Mommy had toast. Daddy had bacon and eggs and Mommy told him he’ll have a heart attack one of these days.”
She feels goosebumps on her arms. Little did Sarah know she would die first, and so soon. “And what did you do after breakfast?”
“For God’s sake,” mutters David, clearly offended.
Scotty makes a thinking face. “Mommy went to work. Me and Danny watched cartoons and played all day until Mommy went to the mall. I colored my drawing book.” He rummages through his crate of toys and pulls out the book. “Look! I can stay in the lines, but Danny can’t. He’s a poopy head.” He laughs at his own joke.
“So you didn’t go out to meet up with your mommy after she left to go shopping?”
He shakes his head. “Will you play with me?”
Madison returns her attention to David, who takes Danny off her before sitting on the couch again. He appears completely overwhelmed and his knees are visibly trembling. “Not now, Scotty. She’s leaving. They both are.”
He wants them gone, which is understandable. “Do you need me to contact anyone for you, or will you notify Sarah’s family?” she asks.
“I’ll call her parents.” His expression finally cracks, and the tears he’s been holding back suddenly fall as he realizes how difficult that will be.
Madison hates to leave him like this, but she knows most families can’t begin to process what’s happened until the police leave them alone to deal with the news. She pulls a card out of her pocket. “I’ll put my contact details by your phone. You’ll hear from me again soon, but if there’s anything you can think of that will help my investigation, please call any time. And I’d like to offer my condolences. If there’s anything I can do to help over the next few days, please get in touch. There are resources available to you and to the rest of Sarah’s family.”
He nods, but his wet eyes stay fixed on the carpet. Scotty squeezes into his father’s lap next to his younger brother. “What’s the matter, Daddy?”
Shelley opens the front door and Madison follows her out into the cold. At the bottom of the icy driveway, Shelley turns to her. “Think he’s involved?”
Madison looks back at the house. “It’s too soon to tell. But for the sake of those boys, I really hope not.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Madison has left officers questioning employees from the mall to see if anyone noticed a suspicious person hanging around the parking lot where Sarah Moss’s body was found. The whole area is cordoned off, with a search in progress for the murder weapon, and Chief Mendes is fully briefed on the case, which means Madison has time to get some sleep before returning to work early tomorrow morning. But not before she calls on her friend.
Her navy Honda, already well past its prime, makes some worrying noises as she pulls into Kate Flynn’s driveway. The car has been plagued with faults for a while now and she doesn’t think it will last the winter, but she can’t afford to replace it yet. Kate, on the other hand, has a brand-new BMW sitting on her driveway. It’s the only other car present, which means her husband, Patrick, isn’t home yet. Madison checks her watch: it’s 10.45 p.m. He works as a bank manager and the couple has two small children. He should be home by now. Madison knows the pair has had some problems lately, but she hopes he hasn’t moved out.
She presses the doorbell, which is one of those smart security ones with a built-in camera. Kate’s big on safety and security as a result of the crimes she reports on, and Madison was tempted to get one herself until she heard of cases where hackers managed to monitor the live footage over Wi-Fi and use it to their advantage, carrying out a spate of burglaries. It put her off. Although if anyone burglarized her place, all they’d find was a cat who would demand the intruders feed him before they leave with the TV. She smiles at the thought, because her son’s cat is obsessed with food.
Kate opens the front door within seconds, and the sound of a little girl throwing a tantrum inside the house drowns out Madison’s greeting. She follows Kate into the spacious living room. There are toys all over the floor, and the house smells of cinnamon and nutmeg, bringing back memories of childhood Christmases.
“Sally, you have to go to sleep now,” says Kate. “It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow; you don’t want to sleep through that, do you?”
The little girl, who is the spitting image of her mother, with her blue eyes and dark brown hair, starts hiccuping as she reaches the end of her tantrum. “But I want to see Santy Claus,” she gulps.
“And you will, honey,” says Kate patiently. “I’ve told you already that he’ll be here tomorrow night. But if you don’t sleep now, you won’t be able to stay awake tomorrow.”
“But what if I go to sleep now and I don’t wake up in time?” Sally gulps. “I’ll miss Christmas!”
Madison smiles. She can’t fault the child’s logic. It’s a perfectly valid concern for a five-year-old.
Kate closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “I promise I will wake you when he gets here. Okay?”
The front door opens and Patrick appears. Sally runs to him and starts crying again. “Mommy won’t let me see Santy Claus.”
Patrick glances at Madison before picking Sally up. “Let’s get you upstairs.” He doesn’t smile and he doesn’t acknowledge his wife as he disappears. Madison realizes this is the second household she’s been to tonight where the couple isn’t happy. The holiday season can be tough on relationships.
“Thank God,” Kate says with a sigh. “I was losing my mind. Coffee? Wine? A two-week vacation in the Bahamas without any kids, leaving right away?”
Madison smiles as she follows her into the kitchen and slips onto a stool at the breakfast bar. “Coffee, thanks.” It’s too late for coffee really, but she’s too buzzed to sleep yet anyway. The TV on the wall in the adjoining dining room is switched to the news channel, on silent. Madison watches the officers from her department scour the crime scene at the mall. The victim’s car is still hidden from sight and it looks as though the coroner’s van has left, which means the body has been removed.
A sneeze behind her makes her turn. Kate’s other child, four-year-old Ben, is seated at the dining table. Kate and Patrick adopted him when he was younger, not knowing anything about his life before them. Madison knows he struggles to sleep at night because of his fear of the dark, so he naps in the daytime and stays up as late as possible. Kate has sought advice from a variety of doctors about that, and about the more concerning condition of selective mutism he’s currently experiencing. Despite being assessed for all manner of things, including autism, he hasn’t been diagnosed with anything. The doctors have concluded he’s just going through a phase and that he’ll start talking again when he’s ready. But she knows Kate isn’t convinced. “Hi, Ben!” she says. “Are you excited it’s almost Christmas?”
He nods and then starts recording them on his iPad, something he’s obsessed with since he stopped talking.
She turns back to Kate. “Is he still carrying that thing everywhere he goes?”
Kate rubs her forehead. “He sure is.”
Madison looks at her friend and notices, not for the first time, that Kate’s not herself right now. Normally impeccably dressed and made up in order to be on-air ready at a moment’s notice, her hair is tied back in a messy ponytail and looking a little greasy, and she’s only wearing mascara as far as Madison can tell. For anyone else, that would be normal, but Kate likes to look good on TV. She’s also been slow arriving to crime scenes. It’s as if she doesn’t care about beating the other reporters to the latest news anymore. “How’s Ben when it’s just you and Patrick here?”
Kate takes a deep breath. “He hasn’t said a word in three weeks. Not even yes or no. He’ll nod or shake his head, but he won’t form words anymore. A month or so ago it was just at preschool where he stopped talking, and in some social situations. He was still speaking to us. Then he stopped talking to Patrick completely, and now it’s me too. The doctor seemed sure his selective mutism was just a phase, but I’m worried it’s not. The problem is that Ben has got used to talking through the app on that thing.” She nods to the iPad. “He prefers the automated voice to his own, and neither Patrick nor I can figure out why.”
Madison feels for her. It doesn’t make any sense, as Ben now has loving, attentive parents. But they don’t know what life was like for him before he came to live with them. “How does Patrick feel about it?”
Kate rolls her eyes and then sips her coffee before replying. “We argue over it all the time because we both have a different approach. I spend hours googling the condition, whereas Patrick thinks he knows better than anyone else. He thinks we need to stop talking to Ben until he talks to us. But he’s pushing Ben away because his frustration is coming across as anger.” She pauses. “I have a feeling we’re not going to make it. That we’ll end up divorcing over this. And that could just make Ben worse.”
Madison reaches out to rub Kate’s arm as Ben loses interest in them and stops recording. “I couldn’t take Patrick’s approach,” she says. “But I can understand why he’d want to try anything.”
“Let’s not talk about it, it’s too depressing.” Kate takes a deep breath and nods to the TV. “What have I missed?”
Madison fills her in on the basics around the crime scene, careful not to say too much. Not that she knows much herself right now. “It was brutal, from the looks of it. And to do it out in the open like that where he could’ve been caught suggests this guy is deranged.”
“Maybe it’s not the first time he’s done it,” suggests Kate.
Before Madison can respond, Sally comes flying down the stairs, screaming at the top of her lungs, “No! I don’t want to go to sleep!”
Patrick follows her with an exasperated look on his face. He appears just as exhausted as his wife, and Madison doesn’t envy them. He enters the kitchen and finds a clean mug before slamming the cabinet door closed. “Your turn,” he says.
Kate looks at Madison with raised eyebrows before turning back to her husband. “So that’s it? You’ve spent five minutes with her and now it’s my turn again?”
Ben raises his iPad to resume recording. He likes to play these videos of his parents when they’re not around. The doctor thinks it’s a way to comfort himself, but no one knows why he needs comforting. Having felt the tension here tonight, though, Madison thinks it might be because of what he’s witnessing.
“Here we go again,” says Patrick with a loud sigh. “I can’t have this argument again, Kate, I just can’t. We do this every day and it’s exhausting.”
Madison slips off the stool and grabs her jacket. “Guys, I’m going to go. If there’s anything I can do to help, just call me. I’m always happy to babysit. Just give me some notice first.”
Kate hugs her, but not before Madison sees tears in her eyes. “Thanks. I’ll call you.”
“I’m sorry, Madison,” says Patrick. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to leave.”
“What do you expect after your little outburst?” says Kate. “I’d leave if I could!”
Madison listens to them go at it in hushed tones as she slips out of the house. The cold darkness is a relief after the atmosphere inside. Sometimes she’s glad to be single.
CHAPTER FIVE
Nate Monroe opens the back door of his car and watches as Brody, a German shepherd–Siberian husky mix, runs ahead of him and up the steps to Madison Harper’s front door. It’s a clear, crisp morning and Nate notices that the compacted snow has turned icy on the driveway. As he’s brought breakfast from Ruby’s Diner, he ascends the steps carefully, because if he drops the food, Brody will be all over it in seconds.
The front door opens before he knocks, and Owen appears. Madison’s seventeen-year-old son lets Brody run inside. “What have you got there?” he asks.
Nate smiles. “It’s for your mom. I hear she was up late working the homicide case and I thought she could do with something more substantial for breakfast than cereal.”
Owen steps to one side as Nate walks in. He heads to the kitchen at the rear of the house, where Madison is sipping coffee. She looks like she hasn’t fully woken up yet, but she’s dressed and ready for work, with her gold shield and service weapon both positioned on her hip. With a smile she says, “Morning. Please tell me that bag contains waffles.”
“Would I dare bring you anything healthy?” He places it in front of her along with a copy of the Lost Creek Daily, which has the images from last night’s crime scene splashed across the front page.
Madison glances at it. “Damn that guy.”
“Who?” he asks.
“Gary Pelosi, the reporter for this rag. He managed to get a photograph of the car while the victim was still in it. Look.” She holds the paper up.
The photo was taken with a long lens pointing into the car’s rear window. Nate can just about make out the back of a head slumped to one side. “Most people won’t notice she’s still inside.”
“That’s not the point. And it’s not just Gary. I’m so sick of the press always trying to get the most shocking photo. These victims have families. How do you think Sarah Moss’s husband will feel when he sees this?”
Nate knows it’s a rhetorical question, so he doesn’t respond. With a sigh, Madison opens the takeout bag, places the waffles on a plate and hunts for some maple syrup in the cabinet behind her. When she’s poured more than Nate would have, she pulls out a fork and starts eating. He looks around the kitchen. “Where’s your dad this morning?” Madison’s father, a retired federal agent, has recently come back into her life after a long absence. He was based in Alaska, hunting serial killers, and was too busy to keep in touch with his two daughters.
“He found an apartment and moved out a few days ago,” she says. “This place isn’t big enough for three people, as you well know.”
He smiles. He spent some time living in Madison’s spare room before he got his own place. Unlike her, he isn’t from Lost Creek, or even Colorado. They met in California this past summer, where they managed to find a missing child together. Madison was fresh out of prison and needed a job, so he let her tag along on his missing person case. He’s an unlicensed PI and she had law enforcement experience. It wasn’t plain sailing, but they worked together to get the job done. Afterward, she talked him into coming to Lost Creek with her, to find out who had framed her for murder. Since then, he’s stuck around. Mainly because Madison and Owen are as close to family as he’s ever likely to get.
“Hey, Mom, guess what?” says Owen as he wolfs down some toast. His three-month-old kitten, Bandit, is trying to climb inside the bread bag, while Brody sits on the floor waiting for the cat to drop him some scraps. The pair get along surprisingly well considering their contrasting sizes and species.
Madison licks syrup off her fingers. “What?”
“Guess who I saw downtown yesterday? He was in the diner ordering coffee.”
Madison shrugs. “Who?”
“Richie Hope.”
Nate smiles widely. “No way.” Richie Hope is a charismatic lawyer based in Prospect Springs. He came to their rescue this past summer, when all three of them found themselves in trouble with the police. That was before Madison managed to get her job back at LCPD. “What’s he doing in town?”
“Get this,” says Owen excitedly. “His office up north was burned to the ground last month, so he’s moved here to start fresh. He’s got a new office downtown.”
Madison stops eating. “Was the fire deliberate?” she asks.
That’s exactly what Nate was thinking, because Richie has a way of upsetting bad guys. He’s not afraid to stand up to anyone who tries to bully others, including law enforcement.
Owen shrugs. “I don’t know. I asked, but he just laughed and said he never liked that office anyway. You know how he is, good at putting a positive spin on bad news.”
Madison laughs. “Only he could put a positive spin on that!” She finishes the last bite of waffle and places the plate and fork into the sink.
“Anyway, he says he’s going to need help around the place and he might be able to offer me an internship until I go to college. I’m going there now to find out more.”
Nate raises his eyebrows. “That’s a great opportunity.”
Madison doesn’t seem as keen. “Wait a minute.” She drops the takeout bag in the trash. “Richie Hope’s old office got burned down by what I think we can safely assume is a disgruntled criminal, and you want to go work at his new office? What if that’s attacked too?”
Owen swallows the last bite of his toast. “It’ll be fine, Mom. They’re not going to go after him twice. Whoever burned his office down has already chased him out of Prospect Springs.”
Madison shakes her head but bites her tongue. Nate can understand why she’d be worried, but it would be great experience for Owen, considering he wants to be a lawyer. “Want a ride to his office? I wouldn’t mind taking a look myself.”
Owen grabs his backpack. “Sure.” He kisses Bandit on the head and then gently places him on the tiled floor. “Catch you later, boy.”
Nate turns to Madison as Owen heads out to the car. “Don’t worry, I’ll find out why Richie was targeted. But this is a good opportunity for Owen. Besides, he’s almost an adult now. You have to let him make his own decisions sometime.”
“I don’t have to let him walk into a bad situation, though,” she says with a sigh. “Let’s see what you think after you’ve spoken to Richie. In the meantime, I have a killer to catch. Did you watch any of the news coverage about the homicide?”
He nods. “It sounded vicious.”
