Milo’s eyebrows suddenly shot up. “Hey! Where are you going? You can’t leave me here.”
McConnell was already driving off.
“Milo,” Callaway said gently. “Do you remember me?”
Milo turned to him. “No. Who the hell are you?”
“I was at your house when you were brought in earlier for selling drugs.”
Milo shrugged. “Well, I don’t remember you.” He surveyed the area and said, “I’m out of here.”
“You don’t remember this spot, do you?” Callaway asked.
Milo looked around again. “Why? Should I?”
“This place has changed over almost a decade. They’ve put in a paved path, placed a boardwalk on the other side of the water, even built a small area with park benches and picnic tables. But the biggest change they’ve made is the high fence over there, so that people don’t go into the water. Because, eight years ago, a boy had drowned in this very spot. It wasn’t because the boy couldn’t swim. On the contrary, the boy loved water and was a good swimmer. He drowned because his mother killed him.”
The blood drained from Milo’s face.
“You still don’t remember this place?” Callaway said.
Milo stood frozen in place, not uttering a word.
“Maybe this will jog your memory.” Callaway pulled out an old photo and held it up. “His name was Noah Parsons. He was eight years old. And he was your best friend.”
Milo’s entire body shook, and then his knees buckled underneath him.
He fell to the ground and covered his face.
ONE-HUNDRED
James Riley raced out of the house the moment he saw the news.
He got behind the wheel of the minivan and pulled out of the garage. He could take the Mustang—it would be faster—but he did not want to draw any attention to himself.
He still regretted driving his Volvo to Emily’s Place. But what other choice did he have?
He was not a career criminal. He did not know how to break into a car without the alarms going off. Not to mention he had no idea how to start a car without a key or fob. He had watched how-to videos online, but they required a ton of practice in order to pull them off. Time was not on his side. His investors were ready to put a noose around his neck.
Above all, a getaway vehicle was not on his list of immediate things to do. He needed a weapon that would not lead back to him.
A great deal of time and energy was spent in procuring such a weapon.
Now it looked like the police had somehow found that very weapon.
It can’t be, he thought, as he raced down the street. It’s not possible.
He got on the highway and drove for approximately twenty miles before he took the next exit. He then drove another eight miles until he was on a country road. He was surrounded by trees, bushes, and rolling hills.
He pulled onto a dirt road and drove for another five miles. He knew the area well enough. He used to come here to hunt with his father when he was young. They used to shoot birds and other small wild animals.
He parked the minivan off the side of the road and began to trek up a hill on foot. The path was covered in dirt and gravel, so it was an easy walk.
When he reached his destination, he got down on his haunches next to a tree. He had used a switchblade to carve an X in order to mark it.
He checked the ground underneath the tree. The earth did not look like it had been disturbed.
They don’t have it, he thought. The police don’t have the weapon.
Relieved, he stood up to leave.
When he turned, he almost fell back, startled.
Blocking his path were two people. He recognized them as Detective Holt and Detective Fisher.
They both had their weapons drawn.
Fisher said, “Do you mind explaining to us what you are doing here?”
“I… I just needed some fresh air.”
“Fresh air?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
Riley’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you following me? I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“We’ll be the judge of that,” Holt said, his voice stern. He then moved closer to Riley, his face inches from his. “Dig, Mr. Riley.”
“I… I don’t know what you are talking about,” he said.
“Either you dig or we do it,” he growled. “Regardless, we will find what we came here for. The only difference will be, the longer it takes us to dig every inch of this place, the longer you will spend locked up in the back of my car. And believe me, the sun is full right now. It gets mighty hot in there. Your choice.”
Riley stared into Holt’s eyes. He saw nothing but contempt.
Riley’s shoulders sank. He turned and got down on his knees.
Near the stump of the tree with the X, Riley removed leaves that covered fresh dirt. He then began to dig with his bare hands.
A few minutes later, he stopped when Fisher said, “Stand up and take five steps back.”
He did as he was instructed.
She walked over and took a look inside the hole. Among the dirt she could see something white. She reached down, cleared the dirt off, and then pulled out a piece of cloth.
She unwrapped the cloth and then held it out for Holt to see.
The cloth held the Smith & Wesson 9mm they had been searching for all along.
ONE-HUNDRED ONE
“You were here that day with Noah, weren’t you?” Callaway said.
Milo was still on the ground. He was covering his face with his hands.
“In fact,” Callaway added, “you know what happened to him, don’t you, Milo?”
Milo shook his head. Tears streamed down his face. “I want to go home,” he said. “I want to speak to my mom.”
“Your mom can’t help you, but I can,” Callaway said.
Milo looked at him.
Callaway’s voice was gentle but strong. “I know why you keep getting in trouble. I know why you keep torturing yourself. I went to your school in Erie Lake. I spoke to one of your teachers. She told me you used to be a good kid, just like Noah, but then, after his death, you changed. It was as if a light switch had been turned off. You became less interested in school. You started getting in trouble. Your mom moved you out of Erie Lake, hoping things would get better, but they didn’t. You kept getting in trouble. I know you’ve changed schools four times already. You’ve been expelled for fighting, for swearing at a teacher, and for making threats. What I’m trying to say is that I understand the pain you are in.” He paused to let his words sink in. Then he said, “You have kept this inside you for years. It is eating away at you, bit by bit. And I’m giving you a chance to rid yourself of this guilt before it consumes you entirely. Before it destroys you, Milo.”
Milo was still. Suddenly, his entire body shook, and he hugged himself to make it stop.
“If you want to be free,” Callaway said, “you have to tell the truth. It’s the only way to make the pain go away.”
Milo stared at him for what felt like a long time but was probably much less. His shoulders sank, and he looked down at his hands. He shut his eyes and let the tears flow freely down his cheeks. “It was all for an action figure.”
“Action figure?” Callaway asked, confused.
“I saw an ad on TV for this action figure, and I begged my mom to get it. She did, only because my birthday was coming up. The action figure came with accessories.” A smile crossed Milo’s face. “I remember it had a gun, a belt with ammunition, a rocket launcher, a walkie-talkie, and a backpack that was supposed to have a parachute inside. The parachute never opened, but I imagined it did whenever I played with that action figure. I used to take it with me to school because I didn’t want to part from it. I never took it out because I was afraid another kid would take it. One day, after recess, I checked my backpack and it was gone. I knew it was Noah who had taken it. As my best friend, he was the only one I had told about the action figure. I confronted him and he denied it. I was s
o upset that I warned him that if he didn’t give it back to me, I would no longer be his friend. I meant it. I loved that action figure. I had worked so hard to get my mom to buy it for me. Noah saw how serious I was that he confessed. He said he only meant to borrow it for a day. He was going to put it back in the backpack. I asked where it was. He said he didn’t want his parents to see him with the action figure. They would ask a lot of questions, and he would have to tell them the truth. He was afraid of getting in trouble. He told me he had hid the action figure in a box and buried it.”
“Where did he bury it?” Callaway asked.
“Near the water, in Erie Lake.”
“You and Noah went to dig it up that day. You were on your bicycle, and Noah was on foot, isn’t that right?”
His eyes widened in surprise. “How did you know?” he asked.
“A man on a boat saw both of you, but you were too far for him to identify.”
Milo said nothing.
“What happened at Erie Lake, Milo?” Callaway asked.
Callaway could see Milo knew he had said too much already, but he did not want to stop. “It had rained a day earlier, and the water level had risen several feet up to the shore. The spot where Noah had buried the action figure was nothing more than a hole. The water had pulled the box with the action figure into the lake. I was horrified.”
“Did you believe Noah had indeed buried it there?” Callaway asked. “He could have lied to you.”
“I saw the look on his face. He was telling the truth. I was suddenly angry. I told him I wanted my action figure back. He said he didn’t know how to bring it back and that it was gone. I didn’t care, I told him. I wanted my action figure, and he had to bring it right this minute. I could see that he was as stunned as me at what had happened. He never expected the water to take it away. I started crying. I was heartbroken. I pushed him hard. He fell back and into the water. I was furious now. I knew I would never see my favorite toy again. I called his mom crazy. He stood up and called my mom a slut.” Milo paused and took a deep breath. “After my dad left, my mom was dating a lot of guys, so people talked behind her back. I pushed Noah again and told him to apologize. He said something to me, which to this day I can’t remember what it was, but it triggered something in me. I jumped on top of him and held him under water. He kicked and thrashed, but I held him down. I was crying, and I was upset. Then, he suddenly stopped moving. I pulled him out and saw that he was still. I called out his name but he didn’t respond. I knew what I had done. I had killed him.” Milo was now sobbing like a little boy. “I didn’t know what to do. I ran home. I was wet and scared. My mom was in the living room watching TV when I opened the door. I told her what I had done. She told me to go upstairs and dry up. She said she would take care of it. I ran upstairs, I changed into dry clothes, and I lay in bed. I cried into my pillow. A short while later, my mom came into my room and told me to never tell anyone the truth. If I did, I would never see her again. The next day, when I went to school, I heard that they blamed his mom for what had happened. I knew that was a lie, but I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want anyone to take me away. I was scared. Then we moved away from Erie Lake, and I thought I could forget about it.”
“But you couldn’t, could you?” Callaway said.
Milo shook his head.
ONE-HUNDRED TWO
James Riley confirmed everything Holt and Fisher already knew.
Riley had murdered his wife in order to get the insurance money to pay back his investors.
Riley knew that if he had killed Emily alone, as the spouse, he would automatically become the prime suspect. He hatched a plan to murder everyone at the center. The investigators would have three murders to solve instead of one, and their attention would be diverted away from him.
But in order to complete his task, he needed inside help. That was where Nikki Jones came in. She was struggling financially. Riley knew this because Emily had told him so. He used this to his advantage. He paid her five thousand dollars, with more to come once he received the insurance money. In return, she gave him the codes to disable the alarm system.
The night before the murders, Riley had used Emily’s phone to text Paige Giles, Melody Ferguson, and even Nikki Jones to come into work early. They did not want Nikki to be excluded, or else the authorities would start asking her questions.
On the morning of the murders, Riley entered the center and waited for Emily to come into work. In her office, he shot her point blank. He then waited for Paige and Melody to arrive. He shot Paige when she went to see Emily, and he shot Melody when she tried to escape.
He knew the police would come asking him questions. In order to create an alibi, he made several calls via a Bluetooth earpiece he wore while at the center. The calls were brief, but they made it look like he was still at his office tending to business matters.
As planned, Nikki was supposed to show up and inform the authorities about the murders. What she did not know was that Riley had planned to kill her all along. The arrival of Angel, the homeless woman, saved her.
When Riley realized his plan had gone awry, he escaped from the back of the center. He then told Nikki to make an excuse about being sick in case the authorities questioned her about not being at work that morning.
Nikki later realized his intentions when Fisher left her a voice message. She confronted Riley to know the truth. He assured her it was a ruse by the police to divide them. He told her he would come to her house to discuss the matter in detail. When he arrived, he shot her in the living room.
Holt and Fisher asked about Earl Munchin and the Men’s Support Alliance.
James had heard of the organization through Emily. She was at odds with how the organization—and men in particular—portrayed themselves as the victims. Riley had been to a couple of their meetings to gather information for his wife. At one of those meetings, he heard Earl Munchin mention he owned a gun. When Riley was formulating his plan, he decided to use Munchin to procure the weapon. Riley was a salesman who was comfortable selling his firm to investors. It was not hard to befriend Munchin.
After the crime was committed, Riley traded in his Volvo SUV for a Ford Mustang.
Riley sighed. “That was my first mistake. I should have ditched the SUV and claimed it was stolen. I could’ve gotten away with what I did, paid my investors back, and been free to rebuild my business.”
Fisher scowled at him. “You were willing to murder four women, one of whom was your wife and the mother of your children, just to save your own business?”
Riley opened his mouth to speak, but Fisher’s glaring eyes made his voice falter.
She said, “Justice would have found you, Mr. Riley, no matter what you had done.”
ONE-HUNDRED THREE
Callaway was in a room with a two-way mirror. He watched as the door opened and Detective Craig Hammel escorted Joyce Newman into the interview room.
After his discussion with Milo, Callaway had called Hammel. Even though the case was closed, Callaway felt the need to inform Hammel about what he had discovered. Hammel had not done his due diligence eight years ago. He had charged an innocent woman for a crime she did not commit. Now, he had an opportunity to right that wrong. After what he heard from Callaway, Hammel was more than willing to do that.
“Why am I here?” Joyce Newman asked.
“Please have a seat, ma’am,” Hammel replied.
She did, reluctantly.
“Is this about Milo?” she quickly said. “Did he do something wrong?”
“As a matter of fact, he did.”
“I told him not to get involved with those people.”
“What people?” Hammel asked, matter-of-factly.
“The people that got him involved in selling drugs,” she said. “Isn’t that why you brought me here?”
“Actually, it’s not about Milo selling drugs. It’s about something else.”
She blinked. “What?”
“Milo has confessed to killing Noa
h Parsons.”
She covered her mouth with her hand. “Where is my son?” she asked.
“He’s detained in another room.”
Her voice rose, “You can’t arrest him without notifying a parent or guardian. He’s only sixteen.”
“Actually, he came to us.”
She was taken aback.
“He walked into the station and gave a written statement and also a video recording. On video, he confirmed he was of sound mind, and he was not coerced to provide the statement. And that the statement was his choice and his choice only.”
This was true, Callaway knew. He did not pressure Milo to make the statement. He gave Milo an option: tell the truth and be rid of the pain, or walk away and let the guilt slowly eat away at his soul until there was nothing left of it.
Callaway did not have concrete evidence linking Milo to Noah’s death. He had pieces of information that he tied together to form a narrative, but nothing that a judge or jury could use to convict him of the crime.
Callaway knew that his confession at Erie Lake would not have held up in court. McConnell had picked up Milo off the street and brought him to Callaway. Milo could argue that he feared for his safety and had no choice but to lie. As Callaway was an adult and Milo a minor, the court would have been swayed in Milo’s favor.
But Lady Luck winked at me, Callaway thought.
Hammel said, “We know what happened that day, Ms. Newman. We wanted to give you the opportunity to give your statement.”
She stared at him, and then suddenly she broke down in tears. “It was a mistake. An accident. Milo never meant to hurt anyone.”
“He pushed another boy into the water and held him down until he was dead.”
“He was only eight years old. He was just a child when it happened.”
Hammel leaned forward in his chair. “When Milo came to you that day and told you what he had done, what did you do next?”
Joyce looked down at the table.
Hammel said, “Whatever you tell me will go a long way in helping you and your son.”
The Broken Mother Page 24
