The Lies You Told

by Emerald O'Brien

  “I’ve gotta go. Have a shift at Roy’s.”

  He nodded and opened the door for her. “Well, seriously, thanks for the stuff.”

  “What stuff?” Mrs. Holden asked, marching down the hall from the kitchen. “No one told me you were here!” She hugged Madigan and gave her a once-over. “You’re looking well. No more dark hair!” She took a piece of her hair and let it slip through her fingers. “It’s really growing, too!”

  “Good to see you, Nicole. I’ve let the dye fade out,” Madigan said.

  “Gosh, that must be close to your natural colour now, right?”

  “Okay, Mom. Mad has to go to work.” Jack smiled and put his hand on his mom’s shoulder.

  “Al-right,” she groaned. “Tell me we’ll be seeing you Saturday.”

  “If I don’t have to work,” she said in a meek voice.

  “Try to change your shift if you’re scheduled,” she said as Madigan stepped out the door. “We’d love to have you here.”

  Madigan waved as she jogged across the driveway toward her bike.

  “You be safe on that thing!” Nicole called out.

  Madigan smiled as she snapped her helmet on and mounted the bike. Her mom had stopped warning her about bike safety after Drew’s death, whether she realized it or not; it was just one of the things that had changed about the way she treated Madigan.

  Jack’s mom had remained a constant, close enough to their family to mourn the death of Drew as if it were her own, but enough distance to remain a source of strength and support. Madigan tapped her helmet before starting the bike, and Mrs. Holden gave an approving nod before letting the screen door close.

  Aleesia will have a place in that family, one more official than mine, and without my parents here, I’ll drift even further from them.

  Mrs. Holden remained at the door as she rolled down the driveway, but she couldn’t see if Jack stuck around, too.

  He’s picked the woman he wants in his life forever, and it isn’t me.

  After turning onto the next street, her engine grumbled to life and helped ease the burden of painful realizations that flooded her mind all at once.

  It’s not me. It never was, and now, it never will be…

  As she navigated the streets back to her home, she surrendered to the vibration and breeze, turning up the radio, but her dry mouth and racing pulse remained.

  Chapter Five

  Madigan scrambled to feed Buster and gather her things after a text from Grace told her to be ready in the next few minutes because Shawna needed a favor. As she pulled her black boots on by the door, the envelope under the bench cushion teased her again. She grunted, shoving it all the way under as a car engine’s hum drew near.

  “Bye, Buster.” She rubbed the top of his head, and he smiled up at her before she gave him a kiss. “I’ll be back soon, and we’ll—”

  She stopped herself from saying the magic word—“walk”—and scrambled outside with her bag.

  “Hurry up, we’re already late!” Grace called from her window.

  Madigan slid inside. “Will you tell me what’s going on now?”

  Grace reversed back down the worn path, past Maria’s General Store. “Shawna texted me this morning, asking me to call her. I did, and she asked if we would go and talk to Rhett Carrigan.”

  “The boyfriend.”

  “Right. She said he might be more open to speaking to someone he doesn’t have ill feelings toward.”

  “But I thought you were following the rules about not going over there?”

  “I said I wouldn’t interfere with the investigation.”

  “Okay… I still don’t get it.”

  “She wants reassurance that Rhett isn’t too involved with the investigation, and if I can give her that, I think she’ll have some peace of mind knowing they are handling this case properly. She’ll be more trusting of and more likely to work with Detective Shelling. That means they’ll have a better chance of finding Tina.”

  “I can understand that. So, what? We’re just going to go there and ask him if he’s involved?”

  “Well, Shawna asked if I could bring her a few things of her mom’s. Her calendar and address book to contact anyone she might have known and ask them some questions. She also wants her mom’s rosary.”

  “Interesting. Alright, so I’m coming because…”

  “I thought you wanted to ask the neighbours some questions?”

  Madigan squinted over at Grace. “And I thought you told me we couldn’t interfere?”

  “I can’t.”

  “I see…” Madigan nodded. “Do you think Rhett Carrigan is allowed to be involved in the investigation?”

  “I don’t think so. I think they’ll go where the evidence takes them, but… We usually look out for one another. In a case like this, I won’t know until I get a sense of his involvement whether it’s possible.”

  “You and I aren’t so different after all.” Madigan smirked. “You want to help her just as much as I do.”

  “I do. I also told Shawna you do some work on the side you were recently licensed for.”

  Madigan’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

  Grace smiled and nodded as they turned off the bridge. “I won’t be long, so I’ll meet you at the park across from the subdivision on Becker Street. Take your time and take notes.”

  “Oh, I will.”

  I didn’t think I’d be going back to my journalism roots so soon, but this—this is perfect.

  And Grace has confidence in me.

  Grace let her out of the car at the park, and Madigan crossed the street, pulling her notepad out on the other side and digging through her bag for a pen.

  The houses with the best vantage points are the four across the street and the ones on either side of Tina’s place.

  She dug a hair band out of her bag and wrapped her hair up in a smooth top knot before sliding on her sunglasses. She turned down Aspen Avenue and slowed her pace, approaching the first of the four houses across the street as Grace got out of her car and strode up the walkway to Tina’s home then up the front steps.

  Madigan knocked on the first door, and no one answered. She tried the same with the second house, but with no cars in the driveway, she wasn’t surprised when no one answered. A car pulled into the driveway of the fourth house as she approached the third, so she skipped over it and headed toward the woman getting out of her SUV.

  “Hello, ma’am, do you live here?” Madigan asked.

  “I do,” the woman said, slowing down.

  “I’m from Amherst Today, and I wondered if I could ask you some questions about an ongoing investigation in your neighborhood?”

  “Okay.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t have much time, though.”

  “Won’t take long. Were you home on the same day Officer Tina Morelli, your neighbour, went missing?”

  “I picked my girls up from school at three, but other than that, yes. I saw it on the news this morning.”

  “Did you know her?”

  “We never spoke. She and her husband are police officers. They keep to themselves except for their next-door neighbours—also police officers.”

  Oh, good to know before I go knocking.

  “On which side?” Madigan asked.

  “The right, there.” She pointed to the house with the empty driveway.

  Probably not home anyway.

  “Did you see anyone come to the home or leave that afternoon or evening of her disappearance?”

  The woman pursed her lips. “No, but I’ve been thinking about it all morning. I thought this neighborhood was safe with them there. Now I’m worried for my girls.”

  “Right, I understand. So when you came home from picking your girls up from school, was her vehicle there?”

  The woman pursed her lips again, resting her hands on her hips. “You know, I think it was.”

  “And his?”

  “No, just hers.”

  “But not the next morning?�
��

  “No, and it hasn’t been back since, which was odd. They are in and out pretty often, so when I heard on the news, her car not being there made sense.”

  “Do you know much about them as a couple?”

  “No, nothing except what I’ve seen, and they aren’t together much out on the street. Why? Do they think he was involved?”

  “Not that I know of. I’m just trying to get more information for my story. Have you seen any other men around her place?”

  She frowned. “No. Not except the next-door neighbour, but he’s married, too, and they all get together.”

  “Okay, I appreciate your help.”

  “No problem.” The woman walked toward her door. “I hope they find her.”

  Something nagged at Madigan from the beginning of their conversation.

  “Oh, one more question,” Madigan said. “When you saw it on the news this morning, was that the first you’d heard of her disappearance?”

  “No. A detective came and asked some of the same questions you are.”

  “Did he ask about the husband?”

  “Just about when I noticed he was or wasn’t there. That’s all. You keep bringing him up, though. Is there some reason I should be wary of him?”

  “No, ma’am, not to my knowledge. Have a nice day.” Madigan turned around, back toward the third house.

  Grace’s car still sat in front of Tina’s house, and as an officer walked out the door, Madigan caught the back of Grace’s coat inside before the screen door closed and the glare of the sun on the glass blocked her vision.

  I hope she’s having better luck than me.

  “The calendar and address book are in evidence, now,” Rhett said as the screen door closed behind Grace. “but I’m sure if she asks Shelling, he’ll make her copies of the numbers she needs. And Tina’s rosary?”

  Grace nodded.

  His chest heaved. “Shawna’s not religious.”

  “I think she might still find comfort in it, seeing as how I assume it’s special to Tina.”

  “I’ll get it for you,” Rhett huffed.

  He doesn’t want me here, but is it because this is a potential crime scene, he wants his privacy during this time, or because he’s hiding something?

  He tapped another officer’s shoulder. “Could you get Tina’s rosary for me? It’s on her bedside table.”

  The officer nodded, shooting Grace a cold stare.

  He’s new, and he’s heard of me. I guess they’ve hired a lot of people since I left.

  “I apologize if I’m interrupting you,” Grace said.

  It won’t take long to get the rosary, so I better find out what I came here for.

  Rhett clasped his hands in front of him and widened his gait while he stared at her.

  One last try.

  “I was so sorry to hear about Tina’s disappearance,” she said as the officer climbed the stairs. “She and I have known each other a long time.”

  She braced herself for a snide comment about her past or to be told off. No one hesitated to use what they thought they knew about her undercover case against her, and if the situation were reversed, she wouldn’t want strangers in her home, either.

  Tears pooled in his eyes as they glossed over, but he cleared his throat. “How do you know her?”

  “She helped me and my sister out when we were kids. I know her as a kind and brave woman.” Grace glanced around them and lowered her voice. “How are you holding up?”

  Rhett licked his lips and frowned. “All I’ve gotten since this nightmare started is blame and grief. You saw how Shawna speaks to me. She’s scared. I get it, and I’m not surprised she’s lashed out, but calmer heads prevail.”

  Grace nodded. “Situations like these can bring out the worst in people, but you’re right. She’s scared. We’ve been trained for things like this, but you can never be prepared when things get personal. Shawna just needs support right now.”

  He nodded. “She put her mother through hell when she left, and with her addiction, which I’m sure you already knew about since you’re friends. She’s better now in some ways, but she’s still holding a grudge about how I handled her addiction. I just wanted the best for her and Tina.”

  “Have you been out searching, or?”

  “I’m allowed to stay here as a courtesy, but they made me leave yesterday when they first got here to search the place. I just drove around, looking for her car. It’s a big city, but with a BOLO out and half the department searching, I don’t understand why we haven’t found it yet.”

  “It might not be in the city. I’ll be searching with the police in Deerhorn County. We need all hands on deck.”

  He nodded once, a thanks. “You know what I need? A chance alone with her ex.”

  Grace cocked her head to the side.

  “A week ago, I came home and his car was here. I come inside, and I hear them fighting in the office behind the French doors.” He nodded down the hallway to the glass doors, covered by a sheer fabric from the inside. “Tina and I were planning on making it official, getting married. She needed him to sign the divorce papers. Her lawyer sent them over to him at the beginning of the year so we could start fresh. Instead of going through them on his own, he comes over here, and I hear them arguing. I open the door, and he’s shocked to see me. Like, buddy, it’s my house. I walk over to the desk, pick up the papers, and hand them to him. I tell him he’d better sign them. I think it came off as a threat because Tina told me to stay out of it, and we argued for a bit. He left with the folder, though, and we both just hoped our lawyer would tell us he’d signed them sometime soon.”

  “This happened a week ago?”

  He nodded. “No such thing as coincidence. Not in my book.”

  The bruise on her arm. Maybe it came from her ex-husband that day?

  “Something’s wrong here. She never would have just left without—" He stopped as footsteps above pounded down the stairs and cleared his throat again as the officer joined them.

  “Here’s the rosary, Carrigan. It was on the armoire.”

  Rhett nodded. “Thanks.”

  Grace waited for the officer to leave to continue their conversation, but he stood there staring at her, and Rhett couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the rosary.

  “Thanks,” Grace said, holding her hand out for it.

  Rhett nodded but didn’t speak, handing it over.

  He’s different around this officer. He was probably told not to speak to me, but maybe my concern caused him to let his walls down. I didn’t expect to get through to him, but this is good.

  I can use this.

  After getting back in her car, she texted Mac.

  Any leads on the BOLO from yesterday?

  If there were, Rhett would have known by now, unless the police were keeping him at a distance as he said.

  He could be playing me, but the look in his eyes. It looked like real emotion.

  Madigan crossed the street, ignoring her if she had seen her, and knocked at the door of the neighbour’s on the left as Grace pulled away.

  After parking on Becker Street by the park, her phone buzzed. Mac.

  No. We’ve been looking yesterday evening and all morning. No sign of the car.

  Thanks, she sent back as Mac’s named popped up at the top of the screen.

  You still haven’t answered my question about tonight.

  Grace smirked as a fluttering invaded her lungs, and she pressed her back against the seat, slipping her phone in her pocket.

  He’s a distraction. A nice distraction—but still.

  She rolled her window down for some air and set her sights across the street, watching for her sister.

  Madigan approached the neighbour’s door, knocked, and waited as Grace’s car disappeared around the corner. An older man in a sweater vest with a cane opened the door.

  “What do you want?”

  “I’m a reporter from Amherst Today, and I’m wondering if you have a moment to talk about t
he missing woman next door?”

  His frown lines deepened. “Missing?”

  “Yes, the police officer next door,” she said, pointing. “Officer Tina Morelli.”

  “Hah,” he let out a huff of laughter.

  “Sir?”

  “Claude?” a woman in nursing scrubs called to him from the hallway as she approached. “Oh, hello, one moment. Claude, let’s go back to the living room, alright? Your show’s on. You love your show.”

  He swatted her away but turned around and hobbled down the hallway.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “I’m with the paper, and I was hoping to ask some questions about the missing woman from next door.”

  “I know who you’re talking about. I don’t live here, but I spend days with Claude. I don’t know much about the neighbours. They all keep to themselves mostly, and they’re not too keen on Claude.” She lowered her voice. “He has dementia, and he can be pretty blunt.”

  “Oh, I understand. I’m sorry to hear that.”

  She shrugged. “I take him out when I can during the day, but the PSW on the night shift keeps him in—tries, that is.”

  “What time does your shift end?”

  “Seven PM. That’s when the night support worker comes.”

  “When you left yesterday, were there any cars in the driveway?”

  “Yes, hers.”

  Madigan nodded. “Have the police been over to speak with any of the personal support workers or Claude?”

  “Not that I know of. His night PSW, Dawn, might know something.”

  “Okay, thank you…”

  “I’m Melinda.”

  “Nice to meet you, Melinda. Could I ask, have you seen anything of interest going on next door? Anything off?”

  She shook her head. “I clean up, make lunch and dinner. Help him wash. I don’t have time to notice much else around here except Claude. He’s worse lately than usual, though. It could be—well, here’s something—he barely sleeps at night anymore. Dawn told me a couple of weeks ago that the neighbours have been fighting some nights since, and with the better weather, all the windows are open, so it’s easier to hear. Anyways, we thought that was the issue, but his doctor said although the yelling can’t help, it’s mostly the dementia getting worse.”