It was too quiet in the car, so she turned on the radio. A country song assaulted her, but she couldn’t turn it off. That’s what really did her in. That country song brought a whole new set of memories flooding back.
She was nineteen, waiting tables because she was determined to make her own way in the world. She’d had a falling out with her father and left home. Though she felt bad for her mother, it was something she had to do and was proud of. She worked on her art in an apartment she shared with a friend. She didn’t need her father’s money or support. She could do this on her own. She didn’t need anyone until she saw Nolan.
Heard him was the truth of it. Humming a tune as he wrote across a clean sheet of paper. Stopped. Wrote. Hummed. Tapped. Wrote. Scribbled it out. Began again.
His blue eyes were distant as he focused, a cup of coffee getting colder at his side, a plate of dinner half eaten. She recognized that look. She wasn’t a writer, but she felt it when she was painting, and she wanted to talk to him about that, wanted to know another human who experienced the same thing she did. He wasn’t one of her tables, though, so she didn’t go over, just watched from afar.
He tapped his fingers and looked up at her. Their eyes met and she knew, just knew in that moment, that this boy was going to change her whole life.
She shook it off. Silly. So silly. But he called her over, and it’s not like she could ignore a customer.
“Hey.” He smiled. “Can I sing a song for you?”
Emma glanced around. A dead Wednesday night, not like anyone would notice. And this was the kind of thing her manager would want her to do. Be nice to the customer, right?
“Sure. I’d love to hear it.”
The song was a little rough around the edges, his voice needed a bit more control. But she told him it was perfect, as it sounded like perfection at the time. He asked her on a date that night and she said yes.
It wasn’t too long before he was sharing his dreams, sharing his struggles. She knew she could help him. Not as a waitress getting paid less than minimum wage, not without her father’s help.
He never asked her to help him. Perhaps he knew if he did, then that would be the end of them. She would’ve ceased contact immediately if he had outright asked her to suck up her pride for him.
But he planted the seeds, the hints, so carefully she didn’t even see them at first. She completely thought it was her own decision when she began talking to her father again. Didn’t see the strings pulling her. She wouldn’t until it was too late.
It started with a phone call. A little money from daddy who was eager for a reconciliation. He loved his daughter in his own way, loved knowing his secrets were safe. She introduced Nolan to her parents, and as soon as Brett learned Nolan wanted to be a famous country music singer, Brett vowed to make it happen. To win back his daughter. That was how he showed his love. He didn’t know any other way, and she resented him for it, but she was trapped now. No way out.
Soon, they were living in a townhouse. Nolan was getting new gigs. Emma slowly let go of that sliver of freedom she’d worked so hard for. She convinced herself she didn’t want it in the first place, that she and Nolan would make their own dreams eventually. One day she’d be out of the shadow of her father when the time was right. She’d done this for them, not for him.
“You’re never around,” she complained. As an older version of Emma waited at a red light, a younger version fought with Nolan in their immaculate white living room. “I miss you. What about when we have kids? Don’t you want to start a family? Don’t you want to be a present father?”
“I will be,” he assured her as he took her hand and kissed her. “And I’m sorry I’m not around more now, but I’m trying to build a career. I’m carving out a good life for us. One our kids will be proud of. You just have to be patient, okay?”
“Okay,” she said as she nodded. He kissed her and she realized over time it wasn’t so bad. She loved him, but it wasn’t crazy “soulmate” kind of fire. She didn’t need him around all the time anymore. It was comfortable, reliable, the kind of love that made her feel safe and complete…until the day he betrayed her. Walked right out of her life just like Anna did.
Emma blinked the memories away as she entered the dress shop and hugged Makayla.
“I’ve already picked out a few dresses,” she said. “But I wanted to wait for you to see them when I try them on. You’re the only one I’d trust with this.”
“Well then, let’s get to it. I’ll look around while you’re in the fitting room. See if you missed any gems.”
“You always have been better at fashion than I am,” Makayla said. Emma looked at her friend’s gaudy print dress and didn’t say what came to mind.
“We’ll put our skills together,” she said. “You will have the most brilliant wedding.”
Yet as she looked through dresses of white, she couldn’t help but wonder if Makayla was waiting to betray her, too.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Amelia knew she shouldn’t drink what she desired most in that moment. She needed to keep a clear head for the case, needed to focus. But she was stressed. She hadn’t been this stressed in a very long time.
Amelia stomped down to the kitchen and grabbed a pint of ice cream and a spoon. She melted as the creamy chocolate hit her tongue. But it just wasn’t exactly what she was looking for.
She slumped against the granite counter, brain fried and nerves frazzled. They’d made one development, and that was it. She could feel the clock ticking, getting ever closer to that moment when they’d find another dead body. With both projects, it seemed she kept taking tiny steps forward before hitting another brick wall.
She had the letter. She had figures of people Brett probably paid off, and she’d told Everett who the flash drive belonged to, so she had his help. Though she hadn’t yet told him of Brett’s connection to her mother. She had the hint of a story, but what exactly was her mother trying to tell her? Why did she leave it in her hands? She didn’t really expect her to lock up Brett for blackmail, did she? Rich people paid off others all the time.
Was it simply because she had a vendetta against Brett for ending the affair? Was it because Brett broke her heart and she wanted revenge? Did she think Amelia would go after him after knowing about their connection, just to soothe her ghost? Why should Amelia care about this?
She shouldn’t, but of course she did. She knew her mother had left her that stupid flash drive for a reason and she didn’t think it was simply the actions of a broken heart. Her mother just wasn’t that kind of person. She had to get to the bottom of it, no matter how annoying it was. She was sure she could crack the code, she just needed a little more time…a little more wine.
She gave in and broke open a bottle of red and poured it into her favorite glass, right up to the top, so much so that she had to sip off a bit before carrying it or it would spill over.
Sure, she knew she shouldn’t be drinking wine right now, but her mother shouldn’t have left her with all these unanswered questions, either. She was doing the best with what she had.
She grabbed the ice cream and her ruby treasure and settled in on the couch with her laptop. Her mother still had her brother’s old faded elephant sitting on her couch, and though Amelia didn’t touch it, she didn’t move it, either. The two sat in companionable silence as the moon stretched between the royal purple drapes.
As Amelia opened another file of song lyrics yet to be published, she reached for the blanket her mother knitted while she was pregnant with her and pulled it up over her. Lavender and pearl, Emily’s favorite colors. Amelia closed her eyes and inhaled. It still smelled like her mother. She remembered being little as her mother wrapped her up in the blanket after a nightmare, made her hot chocolate and sat with her until she was feeling better.
Then she opened a new file. She downed the rest of her wine and set it aside. This was huge, the file she’d been looking for. But it was the most disturbing one she’d seen so far.
Amelia’s stomach twisted as she pored over Brett’s perversion. These girls, he had done God knows what to them. He had them posed, showed images of men on top of them. Some struggled. Some were tied up. Only a few looked like they were enjoying it. A few posed of their own accord. The majority looked terrified, and Amelia’s heart ached for them. She longed to go back and save them and lock this monster up for good.
There were so many pictures, but if Amelia tried to make a case against him with just the pictures, the DA would laugh. He wasn’t visible in any of them, just his general outline. His body and face were hidden. A menacing shadow.
It was repulsive, a stash of dirty secrets. Pictures to remember nights he probably thought back on with fondness. Pictures to hold his victims hostage forever, forever possessing images of them in their most vulnerable states.
It wasn’t enough to charge him with anything, but she would keep searching for that one thing that she could use against him. She wouldn’t let him get away with this. She vowed to get this disgusting man locked up no matter what it took. Was this why her mother wanted her to see this flash drive? Because she knew Amelia would find this and find a way to have Brett prosecuted?
Maybe. But she hoped her mother hadn’t seen it. Didn’t know about the true darkness that was held in this flash drive. She hoped because if she had known, why hadn’t she gone to the police? What didn’t she tell Amelia earlier? Why didn’t she fight to have Brett put behind bars? Worst of all, if her mother knew this, how could she have had an affair with this man? How could she have slept with a monster?
Amelia’s head spun under the weight of all these questions. If her mother knew, why didn’t she fight him? How could she continue to let girls get victimized? Why didn’t she say anything? Why did she love him?
The darkness over her became thicker, heavier as she thought of all those numbers, the letter. Had money kept her quiet? Had love kept her quiet? The closeness she’d felt growing between her and her mother faded as she considered the possibility that her mother didn’t speak up because money was worth more to her than protecting these women. Because her relationship with this man persisted even after she knew how he terrorized his victims.
Before Amelia could click away due to exhaustion and heartache, something stopped her. A familiar face flickered onto the screen and she hated that feeling. That nagging suspicion that she knew this girl being victimized.
A young girl, maybe thirteen, was tied to the bed, squirming and barely dressed. Her face was turned away from the camera, but her terror was written all over her body.
Amelia wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. She needed to see this. Her intuition begged her to look closer, so she did as she scrolled through the multiple photos of this girl. Her clothes were slowly being stripped from her as the shadow grew closer and closer.
Then, his body was over her. She looked up. Fear in her wide eyes. For a long time, that’s all Amelia could see. That poor girl’s look of horror held her captive as her heart bled. She wanted to reach into the screen, reach back through time and save that suffering, scared girl. Cradle her in her arms. Run away with her before he could touch her. Bring her to safety and never let a dark soul near her again.
Amelia knew what would happen next. She couldn’t go further, so she sat up. She stared at the girl and noticed two dates marked on the photos. One was about thirteen years after the other. Maybe the day the girl was victimized and her date of birth.
Her date of birth.
Her birthday.
A sick feeling crept into Amelia’s stomach as the truth dawned on her.
She ran back up to her mother’s study and dug around for the file she had copied and brought home with her. She flipped it open to a picture of the victim and it looked just like her, only about twenty years older, with more sadness in her eyes. Paler due to the blood being drained from her, but that fear remained. Amelia wondered if it had ever left her since that day. She prayed that it had. She prayed that this young woman had experienced some moments of happiness. More happiness than the states of terror Amelia had seen her in.
The victim’s date of birth matched the date on the photo. It was Anna.
If the photographs indicated what Amelia suspected they did, then Anna had been assaulted by her best friend’s father.
That horrible feeling grew, bloomed as Amelia realized that the timing matched up perfectly to when Emma said Anna had stopped talking to her. Perhaps it wasn’t as random as Emma thought. Perhaps Anna had come over one day to see Emma and Emma wasn’t there. Her father was, and he did this to her. That was why she stopped talking to Emma. Because Emma’s father had hurt her and, for whatever reason, Anna had been too scared to come forward with that information.
Amelia felt awful for both girls and all the pain Brett had caused them. Emma had no chance at a normal childhood with Anna being assaulted by her friend’s father and maybe…maybe even killed by him?
Amelia left the room, fled back downstairs and to the kitchen. She needed more space to think, to process all this as her mind went crazy. The pieces were falling together, but they were creating a picture more horrifying than she could’ve ever imagined.
She poured herself another glass of wine as she tried to breathe, think. Brett very well could’ve killed Anna to keep her quiet. Perhaps she’d come back, making accusations. He most likely paid her off. But what if it was only her parents’ bank account among those numbers? What if she wanted some for herself? Perhaps she was simply tired of being silent and no amount of money would shut her up.
What if she threatened to tell Emma? He had plenty of reasons to want her dead. But that still left one loose end.
Emma had also been abducted. Perhaps the cases weren’t related. Amelia had been certain they were, but why would he kidnap his own daughter? Emma did survive. If anyone didn’t fit the pattern, it was her. Someone else could’ve kidnapped her.
However, even if she could put that to the side, there was the problem of Emma’s fingerprint at the scene. Brett would know plenty about their friendship. He’d know more than anyone how to best frame his daughter for this murder, and he could’ve easily gotten her fingerprint. It made sense in a sick and twisted way. But would he actually frame his own daughter? Sacrifice her to save himself? Why her? Why not try to put this on someone else?
Was it simply because Emma had the closest connection? The most convenient person to blame it on? Or maybe he thought that if he did so, she wouldn’t be blamed. She was a victim after all, he would’ve known the detectives would have trouble believing she was involved. It would botch the investigation. He would get away with this.
Amelia dragged herself back to her laptop where ghosts waited in her computer. She spent some time going through that long log of names and numbers and found Anna’s parents.
Disgustingly repulsive how they could sell their daughter’s justice. Amelia thought of her mother who might’ve known. Her mother who also sold out to this horrible demon. Maybe he was just too big, too powerful. Maybe they thought they couldn’t touch him so they took what they could get.
Or maybe they were just betrayers. Money was more important to them than their daughter. Either way, Amelia lost respect for all of them. Parents who put their children at risk. It all disgusted her.
After more searching, she finally found Anna’s name among those Brett paid. Much more recent. She sat back, her mind abuzz with all the possibilities. No matter what the smaller details might be, she knew this was big. And no matter how powerful Brett was, she would take him down. He would finally pay for all the harm he’d created. All the ways he destroyed these innocent lives.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Amelia was exhausted when she went into work the n
ext day. She’d stayed up late looking into everything. She’d finally dragged herself to bed but barely slept. She spent all night tossing and turning in nightmares, haunted by Anna.
She made it to work on time again, but not because she tried very hard. She just couldn’t stay in that bed that was torturing her any longer. She had to get away, had to get to work to tell Trent.
She had to tell Trent about the flash drive now, there was no way not to. She had to trust him. He would help her, he always helped her, and she couldn’t do this alone. They would work through this together. He’d know how to take a powerhouse like Brett down. He’d understand what this meant for their case.
She walked into the station and her hopes fell. Trent’s desk was empty. Maybe he was running late? He never ran late. He was dependable, reliable. So where was he when she needed him most?
“Good morning!” Gabe said with a stupid smile on his face.
“Morning,” she grumbled. “Where’s Trent?”
“It’s his day off,” Gabe reminded her. “He always has today off. Why?”
“I just needed to talk to him.” She silently scolded herself. Of course Trent had the day off. She knew that. In her haste to get his input, though, she hadn’t even considered it. Would it be weird to call him?
Maybe not, but everyone hates getting calls from work on their day off. But this was an emergency. He’d understand, right?
“Maybe I can help?” Gabe offered. “What’s up?”
Amelia paused and considered it. She still didn’t trust Gabe, and she certainly didn’t like him. But this wasn’t about her. This was about Anna, and she needed whatever help she could get. As annoying as it was, the FBI had more resources than the detectives would ever have. Gabe might have the type of power needed to bring someone like Brett down. She just didn’t have enough on her own.
The Darkest Secrets Page 13
