BREAKING STEELE (A Sarah Steele Thriller)

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BREAKING STEELE (A Sarah Steele Thriller) Page 7

by Patterson, Aaron; Ann, Ellie


  “I know, I need it more for my own motivation then anything else, proof in my own head.”

  The whole case from start to finish didn’t make sense. The more I thought about it the more messed up it seemed. From the paid jurors, my kidnapping scare, the forensic cokehead, the witness flaking out, the way Hank Williams was so calm through the trial, the flowers and threats, Hannah’s reticence, and it went on and on.

  “What is going on in that head of yours?” Joshua broke into my thoughts and I snapped back to reality.

  “Oh, just thinking about this case, the trial, and all of it.”

  “Kind of messed up.”

  “Yeah.”

  Joshua looked out the window. “I think he is just a spoiled man who has a lot of money and has some guys on his payroll that do his dirty work. I think he gets off on it.”

  “I agree. I just feel like I am missing something big, like he is playing this game and I only have half the rules.”

  “I feel the opposite,” Joshua said. “I feel like we’re searching for rules that aren’t there. Does he seem like the kind of man who plays by rules to you?”

  “No.” I sighed. “No, he doesn’t.”

  Chapter 24

  HEATHER DADE LIVED IN the not-so-expensive part of Eagle. The whole town had been remade down to the cobblestone streets, but the old Eagle still had trailers and older homes from when all the stoners lived there twenty years ago before the housing boom.

  I parked behind a beat-up Nova and walked to the door of the single-wide trailer. I could smell something funky coming from inside, and when a skinny girl with dark rings around her eyes opened the door, the smell hit me in the face, almost taking my breath away.

  “What do you want?” Her voice was gruff and it sounded like she just woke up. She eyed me suspiciously, but her gaze softened when she saw Joshua. He was like a big teddy bear.

  “Heather?” I asked in my kindest voice. Joshua smiled tentatively.

  “Who wants to know?Are you reporters?”

  “No, I’m with the DA’s office. I need to ask you a few questions.”

  “Not interested.” She started to shut the door but I held up my hand. I know it was a bluff, but I banked on the fact that most of her information on law enforcement came from CSI Miami.

  “We can come back with a court order if you like, but then you will have to talk to me down at the courthouse.”

  Two court order threats in one day. I was getting my money’s worth out of that one.

  Heather stopped and looked at me through faded blue eyes. She was in her mid-twenties but looked forty. I was guessing meth.

  “Fine, what do you want?” she asked, opening the door a smidge.

  “Can we come in?”

  She opened the door all the way and we walked into her trailer. I couldn’t believe the mess; beer cans, cigarette butts, rotting food, animal feces, and trash littered every surface. My stomach churned. How could someone live like this? She lit a joint and I was about to protest until I realized the scent helped, so I decided not to say anything.

  “This is my associate, Joshua.” I motioned toward Joshua, who stood with a fake smile on his face. His eyes were watering and I had a feeling he was dealing with the smell a lot worse than I was.

  “Sorry about the mess. I don’t get many visitors.” Heather cleared a spot on the flowered couch and I sat down. She slouched on the arm of the couch and peered over at me. She looked like a crow perched on the edge of a headstone.

  “Heather, I first want to ask you about the abuse claim you filed against Hank Williams—”

  “I never filed an abuse claim,” she mumbled and took another toke.

  “There was one on file for ten days at Williams, Inc. From July 7 to the 17. And then it was dismissed. It had your name on it.”

  She tilted her head. “Don’t even remember.”

  So this is the way it was going to go. She wasn’t going to sing so easily for me. Well, I could pull a song from just about anyone if you gave me enough time, bribed or not.

  “Why’d you quit at Williams, Inc.?” Joshua asked. I stiffened. If he ruined this for me, so help me.

  The question clearly agitated her. She flushed, and her hands trembled so hard the ash crumbled from her smoke.

  She wasn’t going to answer. Joshua looked at me, and shifted uncomfortably. Taking out his handkerchief, he wiped the sweat from his brow.

  I started with something easier. “Do you know a Glen Williams?”

  Heather shot me a glare. And then she nodded as if it pained her.

  “I understand why you didn’t file the abuse claim. I know how that works—” I thoughtlessly put my hand on the couch cushion, right into something white and gooey. I yanked my hand away, trying not to make a big deal of it, and wiped the goo on my pants. Hopefully it was just rotten yogurt, and not something worse. “It doesn’t have to be about that claim, Heather.” I leaned back. “Just tell us a story.”

  Joshua looked at me, confused. Heather finished her smoke and put it out in an ashtray shaped like a skeleton hand. She eyed me sideways. “A story?” she said.

  “Yep. A story. Any story.”

  Heather suddenly looked like she was a million miles away. She stared at nothing, her eyes flashing with memories. I waited, trying not to tap my toe or shift or anything that would distract her from her thoughts. Joshua looked around for a place to sit. He dragged out a kitchen chair, dusted off the seat with his handkerchief, and sat down heavily.

  It pulled Heather from her reverie.

  She took a deep breath and sighed. “I haven’t thought about him in a long time. This trial and the news just brought back a lot of bad memories.”

  She seemed so breakable and her face was sunken in, as if she was dead but her body hadn’t received the memo.

  “We want to hear a story, Heather,” I said.

  “Okay, but all I know is a horror story. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  Chapter 25

  “WHEN I TURNED TWELVE it started. My mother died and Hank lost it. He’s such a pig. I think he killed her, but that’s another story.”

  So she was his … daughter?

  “He gave me everything; I even had a frickin’ pony, just like in the movies. That was our life, parties, people always over, and then night after night of terror. He turned into a different person, mean and jumpy. He would get angry at the drop of a hat. I hated him, wanted to kill him, but I was scared.”

  “Did you tell anyone?” Joshua said.

  “Yes, my uncle Glen, but he did nothing. Said I was imagining things. That I was stressed because of my mother’s death. He told me that if I told anyone my lies that I would lose everything. But a few nights after I told him about what Hank was doing he came into the room and … watched.”

  “I’m so sorry, Heather.” I meant that with every fiber of my being.

  Her eyes filled with tears and they spilled down her pale cheeks. I didn’t think she had seen kindness in a very long time and my heart broke for her. “I made it to my 18 birthday then I left, changed my last name, and moved in with my boyfriend. He left me a year later when the money ran out. Guess he didn’t want a broke girlfriend.”

  “Did your dad look for you, try to find you?”

  “No, that was the strange part. He just let me go, didn’t say a word. No police report, nothing. That’s when I filed the employee abuse report. I was too scared to go to the cops. Hank would kill me, I know he would. I started to imagine killing him, but even in my dreams he was there with his stun gun.”

  My heart jumped at the familiar weapon. So Heather had seen the end of one, too.

  “When they saw my claim, Glen told me he’d give me a stipend every month. So I never moved. I was in debt with some bad people, I needed the money and so I took it. And I was so scared that one day he’ll come back. But he travels so much that I never see him anyway. Glen always went with him everywhere, but stayed in the shadows like a vampire. He’s so we
ird. And it was weird to see them together.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Well, it’s always weird to see identical people walking side by side.”

  Heather rifled through some magazines in a bookshelf and then took out a photo album. She flipped through the pages until she landed on what she wanted—and handed it to me.

  The picture was of a small family in front of a huge mansion. A young Heather stood in front of a squinty-eyed woman, who stood beside Hank, who stood beside a man who looked the exact same as he did. Same shape of face, same build, same smile, same facial hair.

  “Twins? Hank and Glen are twins?”

  Chapter 26

  MY HEART BEAT IN my ears. They were identical twins, and in this picture I could not tell who was who.

  “Yes, twins. But Glen was the quiet one, stayed in the background, never was one for the public eye. I don’t think he’s even publically listed, so he can do whatever the heck he wants to do. He is the one I thought I could trust, but we see how that worked out.”

  My mind raced with the possibilities. Could Hank have switched places with Glen? Joshua leaned over and took the picture out of the album.

  “Can we take this?”

  “Sure, you can have it all if you want. I see him and I see my father—I mean Hank. They are different sides of the same coin.”

  “Where is your uncle now?” I wondered.

  “Who knows?He’s never around. He lives in Hong Kong most of the time.And when he is here, he doesn’t go out in public. I don’t think the things that he does in the East are good.” Her eyes darkened. “Or decent. I heard him and Hank laughing about it once.”

  I felt like some of the pieces were beginning to fall into place but I still felt like something was missing. Why did he let his daughter leave without a word? And why isn’t Hannah in this family photo?

  “There’s something missing from the story, Heather. I feel like you’re not telling me something—how did you end up here?”

  Heather began to cry and I pulled her to me and held her as she wept. I tried not to care when she got tears and snot on my jacket sleeve. I held out my hand and gave Joshua a fierce look, and with a sigh he handed over his handkerchief. She blew her nose in it. After a time Heather calmed down and looked up at me. I could see the little girl in her eyes, so innocent and vulnerable. The girl she was before her father ruined her forever.

  “I was getting back on my feet. I had a good job at Macy’s, I was going to stop using his stipend. I was even going to buy a little house. But then I got a letter.”

  I waited for her to keep going. I felt for her. I could see her healthy, strong, and rising above all the hell of her past. I could see myself in her hollow expression.

  “It was from no one, no return address, nothing, just a note that said that I was not Heather Williams, I was Heather Dade.”

  “What do you mean? What happened to you, Heather?”

  Through her sobs she said. “I had been kidnapped!”

  Chapter 27

  “WHAT, KIDNAPPED?” I EXCHANGED a look with Joshua. This story was getting too fantastic and a sliver of doubt went through my mind.

  “I was taken when I was three. Hank Williams is not my real father and my mother is not even my real mother! That bastard took me and killed my real parents then raped me when I turned twelve!”

  “Slow down, what do you mean he killed your parents?”

  “After I got the letter I started looking up everything I could find on the name Dade. I became obsessed. I found this old report of a missing girl, three years old, up in Washington; they never found her and the parents died a year later in a boating accident. I think Hank killed them.” Heather sucked in a heavy sigh and blew her nose again.

  “They died, and I have no other family. My grandparents are dead, they were both only children and I’m the last. Once I discovered the truth, I was so sick that I lost it. A month later I was admitted to a mental ward in Boise and they got me hooked on drugs. The place just kept its patients under, medicated, and once I got out, I tried to tell the police. But it was my word against theirs. I don’t think I told the story well. He has money, power. And I have nothing but a broken mind.”

  I put my hand on her shoulder. “You have more than that. Blood can’t lie. You could have a DNA test done and prove who you are.”

  “Then what? I was under a different name, I looked different and all he has to do is claim that he never knew who I was, that I was just a crazy person who wanted money for drugs.”

  I shook my head and said. “But you have this picture. You aren’t gone.”

  “Oh, but I am. I’ve been replaced. The Hannah Williams at Williams, Inc. is my stand-in. You think they want the press asking questions about where their daughter went, why I am not involved in the family business? She works for him, she is the one in charge whenever Hank is away. Who do you think is running things now?”

  I blew out a low whistle, trying to digest it all. If it was true, everything Hannah told me earlier today was hot air. She is in on it all. She isn’t even Hannah Williams, and the plot is much more sinister. “Wow, I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t say anything,” she said with a hiccup. “If you do you will end up like me, or worse. He does not fight fair. My advice, forget about him and pretend that you never knew who Hank Williams was!”

  This was much deeper than I’d ever thought. Tracy Mulligan wasn’t the first. He’d had a life of crime, but had only been caught once. And now the psychopath was walking free.

  “Heather,” I said, a light in my eyes. “Will you testify against Hank? With your testimony and our evidence, we would be able to put him away.”

  She trembled and shook her head so hard her hair whipped around her shoulders. “No-no-no,” she stuttered. “I can’t. I’d be dead before I ever reached the stands. You don’t know how powerful he is, Sarah!” Terror choked her voice. “His hands are everywhere. It seems like he’s paid off someone on every level.”

  Was she just paranoid, or was there some truth behind her words? My mind raced through the possibilities. There were some big players involved with Williams, Inc. If what she was saying was true, what would that mean for Boise, for everyone involved in the process—senators, and politicians?

  “That’s exactly why you need to tell your story,” I said, touching her arm. “He must be stopped.”

  She set her lips and her face closed down, as if a mask had fallen over her features. Taking the handkerchief, she handed it to Joshua, who mumbled, “Keep it.”

  “I think you should leave now,” she said.

  “But, Heather—”

  “LEAVE!” she shouted.

  I stood, and followed Joshua towards the door. Before I left I looked back. “Pedophiles don’t rehabilitate,” I said. “This is going to happen again. If you testify, you may save another little girl from your fate.” I set my card on her table. “If you change your mind, give me a call. We’ll protect you.”

  She looked up at me, eyes scared. “No one can be protected from Hank Williams. No one.”

  Chapter 28

  THE FIRST THING I did when I got home was go over to the drawer in my bedroom and take out my gun. I didn’t load it, but I put a bullet in my pocket and slid it in the small of my back.

  Joshua was in the car, waiting. He’d parked in a no-parking zone while I came up here to grab my things. My mind flashed back to the conversation we’d had on the way here:

  “Glen is the one who kidnapped me,” I’d told him.

  “I thought you didn’t recognize any of the men?” he said with a frown.

  “I never said that, you just assumed. I saw Hank Williams there and didn’t tell anyone because it was too crazy.”

  Silence rested between us.

  “Nothing’s too crazy,” I said.

  He nodded. “So I’m learning. You know you can’t stay at your apartment,” he said.

  “I know. Drop me off so I can pack a ba
g and then we’ll head to the office to process everything.”

  In the quiet of my home, I took a moment. Joshua could wait for a little longer. I kicked off my shoes and covered my eyes with my arm. The cool room felt good. I could hear the clock on the wall ticking, in the kitchen the fridge hummed and the dishwasher beeped letting me know it was done. I was home.

  One more thing Hank Williams was taking from me.

  This case was getting deeper than I ever thought. And I was afraid I would drown in it.

  Heather’s face flashed in my head. That’s what he did to people. Destroyed them from the outside in so that they hate themselves. Was that who Tracy Mulligan would’ve become if she’d survived?

  My phone vibrated. I grabbed my purse, fumbling through it with my eyes still closed. I pushed the talk button.

  “Hello.”

  I waited. The other end was just static and some faint background noise.

  “Hello?” I could hear the other person breathing slow and steady and I thought maybe they pocket dialed me.

  I opened my eyes and looked at the caller ID.

  UNKNOWN

  I said nothing for a full 30 seconds and hung up.

  Five seconds later the phone rang again.

  UNKNOWN

  I answered, but this time I didn’t say hello. I waited and listened to the breathing. My heart sped up a little and I sat up. I could hear the person on the other end whispering something, but I couldn’t make out what it was. I turned up the volume to the max setting and pressed the phone tight to my ear and plugged my other ear with my finger.

  “Sarah.”

  It was so soft that I almost missed it, but when someone says your name something inside rings like a bell, some sort of signal to our brains that tells us we were called. I listened to the voice whisper my name over and over.

  I hung up and put the phone down. It vibrated again in my hand. I looked at the screen.

 

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