But he was calm, she realized then. He wasn’t glaring at her. He wasn’t furious. He was a blank. Micah was dead.
Her arms fell. The gun was searing heat against her thigh. She looked from Micah to her husband. Micah’s arm was over Johnny’s face, hiding the ruin there.
“I have to go,” she whispered to Johnny. “I have to leave you here, I’m sorry.”
But she sat there still. Her thigh burned. She felt limp as a rag doll and nearly as lifeless. She could sit there forever, she thought. Just give up. It wouldn’t take her long to die. She’d already lost blood. She was concussed and in shock.
“I have to go,” she said again, reminding herself. “I have to go to Sydney.”
She dropped the gun to the side and scooted back on her ass. Once she felt safely out of range of Micah’s clawed, reaching hand, she twisted to her hands and knees and pushed up to leave both men behind.
CHAPTER 27
The Holcombs had wanted her charged with aiding and abetting. They’d demanded it. But every news story had flashed pictures of Veronica red-eyed and weeping, stitched scalp black and scabbed against the freshly shaved patch on her head.
She’d looked stunned and helpless in that first bright day after the cabin, one of her temples purple with bruising, and she’d denied every accusation. She’d known nothing. She’d planned nothing. The DA had found no proof to contradict her and their case was solved. Both suspects were dead. The kidnapping crisis was over.
Over but still dragging on. And on and on. Six months had passed in a flash, and the news trucks had long since driven away, but they would be back. She’d heard a TV movie was being made. Of course it was, because this story had everything. A rich family. A child in danger. Greed and lust. A dirty, filthy love triangle.
She couldn’t even pretend she wouldn’t have watched it herself, given half a remove from the horror of it. But they were moving on. Moving away.
She watched Sydney sort which stuffed animals were going to charity and which were going with her. Her bowed head was a common sight these days. She’d never held her head that way before.
“Your new room isn’t huge, but we can hang a net near the ceiling to hold them all if you want.”
Sydney shrugged. She was eleven now. She probably wouldn’t get her animals out of the moving box once they got to their new place. She was growing up, and she’d never be her old self again. She’d never be a child.
She’d lost her father but, more than that, she’d lost her identity. She was no longer a confident daddy’s girl with a school full of friends and every ounce of love she could possibly gather in her little arms.
Her father had been murdered. He’d died a criminal. Her mother was an infamous slut who’d shot her own lover. That was a scandal with eternal legs, and it would never leave her. Veronica had been afraid to put her daughter through a divorce, and now her entire world had burned down around them.
Sydney was broken. But she wasn’t destroyed. Veronica told herself that over and over. She would recover.
Sydney would have a chance to have friends again once they were settled. Maybe Veronica should have kept her in school, but pulling her out had felt like the only solution. The other kids had taunted her. Those who hadn’t had reluctantly told her they weren’t allowed to hang out with her anymore.
Veronica couldn’t even blame them. She couldn’t rage. She wouldn’t have let her precious child hang out in a den of crime either. So Veronica had been homeschooling her for the past few months. Her mom had been doing a lot of the heavy lifting, but Veronica had done her best to stick with it every day. This was her mess. Her chaos. She couldn’t ever get tired of putting it right.
But Sydney couldn’t be homeschooled forever. It wasn’t her nature to be alone, isolated, even if it was all that Veronica craved anymore.
“Okay, pumpkin,” Veronica said cheerfully when her mom stepped into the room. “Grandma will help you finish packing. I’m going to pick up a few things and I’ll bring lunch back, okay?”
“Okay. Hi, Grandma!” Sydney sounded like her old self for one sweet, brief moment, but when Veronica kissed her, she ducked her head again.
“Don’t forget to label the box with all your swim stuff. We’ll only be two blocks from the beach, so we’ll need to get it out right away.”
“I know,” Sydney muttered.
“And Grandma will be down to visit in just a few weeks.”
“As soon as you’re settled!” Veronica’s mom said cheerfully.
“I know.”
Sydney hated Veronica a little. Or more than a little. Veronica knew that because her daughter had said it often enough. But she also knew that they’d get past it. They were both alive and they would grow and live and love. She wouldn’t allow any other option. Sydney went to therapy twice a week to help deal with her grief and anger, and they’d already found a new therapist for her near Galveston.
Galveston. They’d gone there once with Johnny. A road trip to the beach because they couldn’t afford any other kind. Sydney had been seven, and for the next three years she’d talked about going back. She’d loved that place, and Veronica wanted to give her a reason to love again.
Veronica had suggested it two months earlier, expecting Sydney to object and say she’d miss her Grandma and Grandpa too much. But, to Veronica’s surprise, she’d asked to think about it. A day later she’d said yes. “Let’s move. I don’t like it here anymore.”
Here in Colorado or here in this house, she wasn’t sure, but she’d taken her daughter’s approval and run with it.
“Get something for your father too!” her mom yelled as Veronica grabbed her keys. “He’s coming to help load the trailer.”
“Got it.”
She wasn’t avoiding her dad anymore. He was no longer the greatest villain in her life. He didn’t even make the top three. Those slots were reserved for Micah and Johnny and . . . the last slot was for herself. She prayed to God none of them would ever be dislodged. She’d happily wear that crown forever if it meant nothing bad ever happened to Sydney again.
Her father had made mistakes, but she was the one who’d put him on his pedestal. And now she could see who her real hero was. Her mother. Who’d always been there. Who’d never budged. Who’d hung the same Christmas decorations in the same spots year after year while her shiny, sparkly husband floated in and out of their lives like stardust.
Her mother, who was the only one who’d never asked what Veronica had done. She’d only held her so tightly it had hurt and murmured “You’ll be okay. You’ll be okay for Sydney” over and over, and maybe she’d even made it true.
Veronica stepped into the garage, startled by walls so recently cleared of their clutter. Once the police had returned Johnny’s truck to her, she’d sold her own car and there’d been so much space then, even before she’d thrown out most of the accumulated crap.
She’d been waiting for months. Just waiting. And now they were free.
Her phone buzzed. It’s really done? Fitz texted. Like DONE done?
Yes. I got a heads-up last week, and official notification this morning. No charges.
Wonderful!!! Trish says congrats. And so do I.
Thank you both! Trish had drawn away after the deaths. Not at first. At first she’d offered nothing but relief that Veronica and Sydney were alive and well. At first she’d been almost proud of her sister’s survival.
But slowly, slowly it had sunk in that Veronica had been lying to everyone, that she’d had a whole life she’d been building outside her marriage. And then parents at Trish’s school had begun to complain. She hadn’t lost her job, but the school district had asked if she’d be willing to take a brief leave of absence until her notorious family of kidnappers wasn’t on the news every day.
So Trish had pulled back, and Veronica had let her go. But Fitz kept them connected, determined that this rift would heal. And it would. It had to. Because Veronica had lost so much already.
Stone-
faced despite the smiling emoji she sent to Fitz, Veronica got behind the wheel and backed Johnny’s truck out of the garage. Johnny’s truck. Not hers. A stupid way to keep him in their memory maybe, but there it was. She wouldn’t put him away and erase him. He deserved better. He hadn’t been innocent, but he hadn’t deserved to die.
She’d loved him once. She’d loved him recklessly, stupidly, and she’d forgotten all that in the years of disappointments and betrayals and weariness. But she remembered now, too late. That sweet college romance with a lovely, shining boy.
Veronica set her jaw and drove. Today wasn’t a day to think about the past.
They needed more cleaning supplies, more drinks, more snacks for the road. She’d purchased a smartphone for Sydney as a surprise for the road trip, and she wanted to get her a gift card too, so her daughter could buy all the apps she wanted. But instead of stopping for supplies, she drove past every store and continued on until she reached the ugly brick building she hated so much.
When she asked for Detective Reed, she was directed toward a far-too-familiar office packed full of desks. By the time she got there, Reed was already standing next to her chair, clearly alerted by the officer in reception.
“Mrs. Bradley. I wasn’t expecting you.”
“We’re leaving today. I promised I’d give you an address.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that.”
Veronica handed over the address, written in pink marker on a notecard. Detritus from packing up their junk drawer. “No offense, but I hope you’ll never get in touch. I hope it’s all over.”
“Perhaps it is. Unless there’s anything else you’d like to contribute?”
Veronica laughed. She’d given up everything. Her blood, sweat, and tears. Her love and horror. She’d handed over every detail she could remember from every interaction with Micah. Everything she’d heard him even whisper to her or Johnny. She’d confessed to every moment she’d spent with him. Every moment but one. She’d kept that one evening for herself.
So she smiled and shook her head. “You know all my secrets, Reed. It’s time for me to take my daughter and start over. You know about the name change?”
The detective stared at her. She stared hard, arms folded, lips a disapproving line. But she finally relented and tipped her chin in a nod. “So you didn’t find anything else while you were packing up?”
“No. Nothing.”
“Micah never gave you anything?”
She sighed but kept her face relaxed and friendly. “He was determined to kill me after I found out about the kidnapping. Why would he have paid me off?”
Reed shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt to ask. They’re still looking for that last four hundred K they never recovered.”
“Maybe Micah bought a fucking yacht or something. I have no idea. I haven’t worked in six months and I’m selling the house my daughter grew up in so we can afford a two-bedroom apartment in Texas. Feel free to drop by on your next vacation if you want to make sure we’re still poor.”
The detective held up her hands. “All right. I get it.”
“Let the internet sleuths enjoy their treasure hunt,” Veronica added bitterly. The missing money kept everything fresh and new online. Veronica had shut down every social media account long ago, and she no longer even had an email address. The stalking and accusations had become too frightening. She’d even caught a man in her backyard with a metal detector. A metal detector. As if he were looking for gold bullion instead of cash.
“If we move again, I’ll let you know,” she offered. “I don’t want you to think I’m running. It just isn’t safe here. Sydney . . .”
Reed’s face finally softened. Veronica knew now that she had two daughters of her own. “I know. She’s a sweet girl. I get it. You two stay safe.”
They exchanged stiff goodbyes, and Veronica left that place behind, hopefully forever. She hit the freeway, checking her rearview mirror the whole way just in case. She was sure they must have tailed her at some point, but even if they were still suspicious, there weren’t unlimited resources and there were new crimes committed every day.
Still, she took an early exit and circled downtown Denver twice before she found a nonmetered parking spot and slipped on her sunglasses. She took off her ball cap and tugged off the brown wig she’d been wearing, exposing her short new dirty-blond style. Even Sydney hadn’t seen it yet. Another surprise for the road. Blond enough to change her appearance, not so blond it would draw attention. Frankly, the color wasn’t even flattering on her. All the better to blend into the crowd. She put her hat back on and grabbed her slouchy purse and the brand-name shopping bag she’d brought along.
Three blocks of practicing her most confident stride and she was ready. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket, swung the crisp bag that proved she’d been out shopping, and strode through the glass doors of Micah’s old building.
Her ruse wasn’t foolproof, but it proved far more than she needed. The woman behind the welcome desk barely looked up from her own phone as Veronica jotted down a random apartment number and signed a few loops for a name. Veronica gave her a wave and made a beeline for the elevators. As soon as she’d passed out of sight, she ducked her head and hit the Up button.
The elevator flew up. She watched Micah’s floor pass with only the tiniest lurch of her gut. And then she was past the penthouse and at the top, and the elevator doors opened to the rooftop hallway. Heart thundering as she prayed no new security had been installed, she reached for the door and turned the knob. It wasn’t locked.
One more obstacle passed.
And here she stumbled. She’d hoped that the middle of a workday afternoon would mean privacy, but two women were on the rooftop patio, drinking wine at one of the small tables and typing away at their laptops. She felt a brief moment of jealousy for whatever jobs they had, but the twinge settled into anxiety that they wouldn’t leave. Or that they’d notice her. Or that they’d take a selfie and accidentally catch her in the background.
She headed for the lounge chair farthest from them and stretched out as if she’d come up for some sun. She’d even brought a book in her purse.
Her shopping bag looked strange and conspicuous now, but she hadn’t thought that far ahead. She also hadn’t thought ahead to the disappointment of the next step. She wasn’t betting everything on this. It wasn’t even a likelihood, much less a certainty, but she owed Sydney this chance. Her little girl’s cursed, criminal birthright.
She took out her book and waited. She checked her phone. Pretended to read again. After a while she gave up and stared out at the mountains.
She hadn’t loved him, had she? What kind of person could love a man like that? What kind of desperate fool?
She’d thought him smooth and ambitious, but he’d only been false and greedy. All these luxuries had put him deep into debt. He’d mismanaged his business, and clients had started falling away. He’d failed to pay subcontractors and lost more work. In the end, he’d been limping along with a few big jobs he’d underbid just to hold on.
In August, his bid to build a new outdoor entertainment area for the Holcomb estate hadn’t panned out. Someone else had gotten the work, but that August visit had struck Micah with inspiration. All that money. All that land. And all those kids running around on it.
The landscaping meeting was the only connection the police had been able to make, but for Veronica it wasn’t theory; it was fact. She could see Micah up there, schmoozing with Hank Holcomb, eyeing the estate, looking down on the whole city of Denver, and wondering why he couldn’t have a life like that. He’d planned the kidnapping for weeks or months, he’d pulled her husband into the plan, and Veronica had been there the whole time, helping relax him enough to think clearly. She’d wanted a little piece of Micah’s life, and boy, had she gotten it.
The women interrupted her tortured memories by gathering up their things, their words louder and livelier as they planned an evening out.
Veronica waited after the
y left, giving them time to get on the elevator and then time to come back for anything they’d forgotten. Then she gathered her bags and rushed to the far wall of the rooftop.
There was no hesitation this time. She hopped over the wall and landed with a crunch of gravel. Without Micah’s little nest to guide her, she wasn’t sure exactly where to look, so she backed up and surveyed the bricks. A half dozen of them looked loose, so she walked a few feet to the left and started there.
For all her planning, she hadn’t brought gloves, and the brick scraped at her fingertips as she tried to work it free. It budged once and then refused to move, so she said a quick prayer it was the wrong one and moved on. The second brick came away easily and revealed nothing but a spiderweb in the blank space beyond it.
The third brick was lower, closer to the floor, and she felt a hopeful jolt of recognition as she dug her fingers into the gap. She tugged and pushed and pulled until finally the brick began to slide free. She dropped it on the ground and reached in before she could worry about spiders at all.
And she found something. A pipe. A baggie. She pulled out a bag sprinkled with a few desiccated bits of pot. Her heart dipped a little that it was all she’d found, but she shoved her hand in deep and touched something cool and slick. Plastic. She closed her hand over the thick square and tugged it out, scraping blood from her knuckles in the process. But she didn’t care. The find was a heavy weight in her hand as she turned it over, a bundle of plastic wrap and tape. She could just make out a dull-green glint beneath the layers.
She’d forgotten to bring a knife or anything sharp, but it didn’t matter. This was either the cash or it wasn’t.
Shoving her hand back into the hole, she patted around and found one more tightly wrapped bundle and drew it free as well.
Once the hidey-hole was empty, she tugged all the other loose bricks free as well, but they hid nothing. She placed them all carefully back in their places.
When the wall looked normal again, Veronica shoved her treasure into the empty shoebox in her shopping bag, then popped her head over the wall to make sure the coast was clear. She was alone, so she climbed back to the roof deck, straightened her clothes, and hurried to the elevator.
False Step Page 25
