by Linda Ladd
Novak breathed easier, not sure what to think about Wilson’s brutal murder. Maybe one of the guards had finally seen enough of the wife-battering. Novak had a stomach full of it himself. Enough to want to get her out. Or had someone just had it with Wilson’s orders? Thank God, Emma was safe. And now she was free of her husband, too. With the other detective’s urging, Ryan had started walking toward them again. They met them halfway down the lawn. That’s when Ryan seemed to recognize Novak. He stopped dead still in his tracks, stared for a moment, and then started backing away. “That’s him! I saw him! He killed my daddy!”
“Whoa, now, wait a minute—” was as far as Novak got before Lay had drawn his service weapon and had it pointed at his chest. When the officer spoke, the words were calm but definitely to be heeded.
“Get down on the ground, Mr. Novak. Facedown. Arms out to your sides. Right now. Don’t try anything. I’m warning you.”
Novak got down and lay still while he was expertly frisked, his weapon taken and unloaded, and then his hands handcuffed tightly. He remained calm, but he was in a tight spot and he knew it. “This has to be some kind of mistake, sergeant. I just drove up here a minute ago. You saw me. I didn’t do anything. I sure as hell didn’t shoot Mr. Wilson. I wasn’t anywhere near here.”
“Yeah? Well, that’s your story. The kid says different, and he saw the murder go down. We’ll figure it all out down at headquarters. Okay, now get up. I’m taking you in.”
Novak struggled to his feet but kept his eyes focused on the kid. He could probably get out of the cuffs quickly enough, but he didn’t think that would be a wise move. Not at the moment. Not with a professional like Richard Lay. Ryan was standing back, hiding behind the other patrolman’s legs. He wouldn’t look at Novak. The kid was lying. Why? Novak was promptly marched down to the nearest cruiser and pushed into the backseat; Ryan was settled gently in the back of the other car. A third officer came out of the house and stood guard beside the corpse until the medical examiner arrived.
Novak rode with Sergeant Lay. Neither of them said anything. He didn’t have an alibi, not without giving away both Mariah and Emma and their whereabouts. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but he did know one thing. Ryan had identified him as the killer for a reason. And he had a feeling Ryan knew exactly who had murdered his father. Maybe Emma had killed him herself before she fled. Maybe that was why she was so hysterical when she reached his cabin. Maybe the kid had accused Novak to save his mother from going to jail. Or maybe the kid did it. Novak was definitely the fall guy for somebody.
Novak spent the drive down to Sikeston mentally propping up a very weak alibi. Truth was, he was going to have to give up Emma to save himself. He didn’t want to have to do that. But his logic was telling him that Emma might have pulled that trigger and ended her husband’s life. If that were the case, her son was obviously protecting her, the only way he knew how. Now it just depended on how good these patrolmen were, how astute they were, and how much experience they had in detecting lies and deceit. Something he was going to find out soon enough.
Once they arrived at headquarters, Novak was taken to a small interrogation room with clean tan walls and white woodwork. Modern and comfortable for nobody. There was a square wood table and four folding chairs. He sat down in one that squeaked and struggled to hold his weight. He was left there. He tried for a while to sit still and wait patiently because he knew full well they were watching him and recording everything he said and did. He knew how cops worked. Knew the drill. Knew what to say and what not to say. So he didn’t say or do anything. Just sat motionlessly, hands folded atop the table, and took the time to think things through some more.
More time passed before Lay deigned to show up. He came in, shut the door behind him, waited to hear the lock click, and then sat down across from Novak. Laid a thin manila folder out on the table. Folded his big rough workman hands on top of the file and leaned forward, blue eyes riveted hard on Novak’s face. Hell, just like in the movies, and everything. Lay knew what he was doing. No doubt about it.
“You got yourself into one hell of a jam, Novak. But guess what? An eyewitness just told us that you were in your cabin most of the night until you left the compound like a bat out of hell in an old green Ram truck with Mrs. Wilson hidden down on the floorboard and covered up with a blanket. Any or all of that true?”
Novak just stared at him. Shit.
“True? Not true? Almost true?”
“Yeah, that’s just the way it happened. Who told you that?”
“Mind telling me why you did that, Mr. Novak? I mean, hide a married woman in your vehicle and take off in the middle of the night in a godawful thunderstorm? You helping her escape after she shot and killed her husband? That pretty much the gist of it? Or did you do it for her?”
“Who told you that?” Novak asked him again.
“Or is all this stuff just a big, manufactured pack of lies made up by your young lover?”
Novak just stared at him. Not sure what he was talking about. This interview was not looking good for him. “Look, I know my way around the law, Lay. Don’t try to pull this stuff on me. Or I’ll just ask for a lawyer right now and end the game. You play fair with me and we can talk this thing through. Who alibied me?”
It was Lay’s turn to eyeball him. He did so for quite a while. “A girl named Kiki Constantine told one of our officers. Said she saw you leave your cabin, and it was well before we got the call to come out there. We had officers interviewing everybody left inside that hunting compound when you drove up. That pretty much entailed her and an old lady named Hester Thornton. That girl, Kiki, told us that she was watching your cabin next door to hers because she wanted to come over there and hook up with you. She saw your light come on and was outside on her way to you when you came out the front door with a woman wrapped in a blanket. She said she ducked back out of sight but when the dome light came on in the truck, she recognized that woman to be Mrs. Emma Wilson. Kiki Constantine says you are her lover. Her sweetie pie lover, I believe was how she put it. Can’t say sweetie pie comes to my mind when I look at you. Any of that ring a bell with you, Novak?”
Novak was surprised, but it did make sense. He kept his expression noncommittal. “Kiki alibied me?”
“That’s right. She saw you when you came back from supper and she knew how long you were inside your cabin before the light went out, and then she saw it come back on, and then she saw you drive off. She said she was mad at you because you didn’t come over to her place after she invited you on three different occasions. She also said that the lady, whom she identified as Mrs. Barrett Wilson, pounded on your back door and you let her in, and then not long after that, both of you left out the front door. And that you left as if you were in a great big hurry.” He stared at Novak and waited. Novak remained silent. “I do believe that young girl might be sweet on you, Novak. That why she’s making up such a cockamamie story?”
“Way I see it? She’s sweet on just about any man she meets. But she’s telling you the truth. That’s exactly what happened.”
“I heard that kind of rumor about Ms. Constantine myself. One of our officers goes up there for breakfast every Friday. She remembered him, too, very well it seems.” Lay opened the folder and looked down at the papers inside. He took time to retrieve a pair of black bifocal eyeglasses out of his shirt pocket and poke them on. “You have quite a lengthy resume here, Mr. Novak. NYPD detective for three years, resigned there just after 9/11. Highly decorated up there. Navy SEAL, highly trained, and funniest thing, lots of the stuff in your military records are redacted and/or marked classified. Makes a guy like me wonder exactly what you did in the service.” He raised his gaze and stared at Novak over the glasses, waiting for an answer. He didn’t get one.
Lay looked back down at the papers. “Then you became a private eye down in New Orleans and everything about you pretty much ends right there. My, I must say, these are some highly impressive credentials. Thank you for you
r patriotic duty to our great country.” He shut the folder, folded his hands together on top of it. “Now. How did you happen to hook up with Wilson’s wife and whisk her away on the very night he was shot to death, all happening way out here in the remote mountains of north Georgia, very far from where you make your living down in the Big Easy?”
Novak locked eyes with him. This guy was savvy and not to be trifled with. Novak had to be careful. But he also had a feeling that it just might be time to tell this guy the truth and hope for the best. Or at least, some of the truth. “Okay, I’ll tell you what I do know. Mrs. Wilson came to me tonight, at my cabin, running out of that storm in the middle of the night, wet and beaten up and hysterical. Said her husband tried to kill her and was stealing her son away from her. Begged me to help her.” He stopped there, and carefully considered his next words. Lay watched his face, unmoved, as if he knew exactly what he was doing and why. This guy was as discerning as they came.
“And something else you need to know? I’ve seen her husband abuse her verbally. I’ve seen him grab her and humiliate her in front of his men. He more or less sexually assaulted her in front of me. He got off on that kind of stuff. A real sadistic bastard. She has been his victim for years, and she’s terrified of him. She told me all of that, and I believed her because I saw him do some of it with my own eyes. Okay? So I tried to help her tonight. I tried to get her out of there before he and his men came after her. I didn’t know what he’d do to her once he found her at my place.”
The sergeant watched his face, unblinkingly intent, apparently trained to look for the telltale signs of lying. Novak had learned those. He showed nothing.
“So if you were so intent on getting Mrs. Wilson away from her husband, why’d you come back up to the house this morning?”
“Mrs. Wilson told me that her husband was taking her son away that morning. Kidnapping him. I thought I’d try to prevent it, if I could. Calm him down some, maybe. Make him see reason. He has a bad temper. Ask anybody who works up there for him. Ask Kiki.”
“You think Mrs. Wilson was telling you the truth?”
“She was bleeding from a busted lip and had a black eye. She was over-the-top hysterical. Yeah, I believed her. You would have believed her, too.”
“Okay, let’s just say all or any of that is true. What did you do with her? Where is she now?”
Novak hesitated. Longer this time. He had heard more than once that Wilson had local cops in his pocket. He wasn’t sure where or how many or if that included the State cops. He doubted it, the State cops were usually pretty good guys, but he didn’t know if he could trust Lay. The man seemed savvy enough, but he could very well be on the take. Maybe that was why they brought him in. So they could locate Emma and sweat her until she confessed. And she probably had done it. In self-defense, most likely. “Okay, I’m gonna tell you the truth. I drove her down to the bus stop in Sikeston. Put her on a bus out of town. She’s probably well across the North Carolina border now. Then I went back to see if I could find the kid and get them back together. Make sure he was all right. She’s supposed to call me when she finds a safe place for them to stay. Mentioned her mother’s house on Staten Island to me. Maybe she’s on her way there.”
“Okay. So you’re pretty much telling me that you’re just a white knight, puttin’ on shiny armor, and savin’ the fair maiden and her kid. Maybe even killin’ the dragon for her, too. Men do stuff like that for beautiful women, and I hear tell she’s that, for sure.”
“I didn’t kill anybody.” Novak ignored the rest of the accusations. Fairly accurate, though. Couldn’t argue much with Lay’s deductions.
“Why did the kid identify you as his father’s killer? Bein’ you were just there to help him, and all that sort of thing.”
Novak shrugged. “Got me. Ask him. I was as surprised as you were. I didn’t kill anybody. I was just trying to help.”
“I wasn’t surprised at all, Mr. Novak. And we have asked the kid. He’s sticking to his story.”
Silence prevailed while they examined each other some more. Neither of them blinked. Neither moved, just a staring contest. Novak broke first. Thought it was in his best interest.
“Way I see it, Lay? You’ve got to let me go. You’ve got an eyewitness that says I wasn’t up there at the house on that cliff when the murder went down. That I was in my cabin the whole night until Mrs. Wilson showed up and asked me to help her get away. My place is a good ways down across the river and in the main part of the compound. Nowhere near that swimming pool. So you either let me go, or I want to call a lawyer. And I know one hell of a good one down in Atlanta.”
Sergeant Lay stared at him some more, noticeably unimpressed, and then he picked up the folder, stood up, and walked out without another word.
Thirty more minutes passed. Then forty. Then an hour. Then a fine-looking young police woman with russet red hair and pretty brown eyes and a more than impressive Dolly Parton bustline walked through the door. All the buttons on the front of her uniform blouse were holding on for dear life. She unlocked Novak’s handcuffs. Her nameplate said Detective Marcia Latham. “You’re free to go, Mr. Novak. But don’t leave town. We may have more questions for you at a later date.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Novak said. But he was getting the hell out of Sikeston and the state of Georgia as soon as he picked up Mariah and Emma. Hopefully they’d find a way to take Ryan with them, too. “What about the kid?”
“We’re trying to find his mother. Care to tell me where she really is and save us the trouble of drumming up a willing foster family this early in the morning?”
“Why don’t you just give me the kid and I’ll take him to her when she calls me from somewhere safe. She trusts me. She knows better than to trust anybody else around here. Wilson has lots of friends in these parts. She felt alone. That’s why she came to me. I’m a stranger with no ties to the locals.”
Latham unlocked the cuffs and stepped back as he took them off and handed them to her. She handed him his weapon and other personal effects, and then waited a moment. Then she said, “The boy wants to come with you now. Says he got scared and lied about you. That his mother told him that he could trust you. That you’d take care of both of them. Sounds like you and the mom got a little cozy up there in the mountains.”
“I’m a likeable guy.”
She just stared at him, eyes narrowed and assessing. She did not like him. He could just tell.
Novak tried again. “Why don’t you give him to me, if that’s what he wants? At least he knows me.”
“Why don’t you just tell us where she is? Then we’ll return him to his mother.”
“Because I don’t trust you any more than you trust me.”
“You’re free to go, Mr. Novak. Be aware. We’re gonna keep a close eye on you.”
The sexy detective stood back and watched him walk out the door, and he knew she was going to put a tail on him. That’s what he would’ve done. But no problem. He had lots of experience at evading surveillance. But this time, he had to ditch them quickly. He had to get back to the safe house and make Emma tell him what had gone down at that swimming pool. Because he now thought she had shot her husband and fled. If that was the case, this was going to turn into a whole different ballgame.
Mariah
As soon as Novak drove away, Mariah sat on the couch consoling Emma for nearly an hour. It took her a long time to calm down. Emma still wasn’t being very coherent about what had happened, and Mariah didn’t let on about her own reasons for wanting Novak to get her out of that compound. That would come later when Will Novak returned with the child. Eventually, Emma quieted enough for Mariah to take her into the back bedroom and help her pull off her sodden clothes. She turned on the shower and got it nice and warm before she helped Emma step inside.
Emma was still trembling, her bare skin cold to the touch. The small woman was hovering right on the edge of incoherence and kept talking about her son being in danger. Mariah told her to relax, tak
e a nice long shower, and then get dressed and lie down while she fixed her supper. She pulled the shower curtain across the tub, but she was more interested in getting up to that compound and finding Emma’s husband before he got away. So she left Emma standing under the spray, steam saturating the small bathroom. The warm water seemed to be helping Emma calm down. She put out some towels and laid brown fleece sweats and house slippers on the bed for Emma to slip on, and then she walked back to the kitchen and made more coffee and a pot of hot chicken noodle soup.
Mariah felt a little shaken. Nervous, all of a sudden. They had to get Emma and the boy the hell out of Georgia and on their way back to Sydney before they could go back inside and get Wilson. Things were happening very fast now, and as soon as Novak got back with Ryan, they could move. She could send Emma and Ryan back home with Novak, and he would take them there. He would take them down to his plantation and watch over them, because despite all his gruff talk and tough-guy persona, he was a sucker for women in distress. Always had been. He would put Emma’s well-being first. After that, it would be hell to pay for whoever put those awful bruises on Emma’s face. And that would be Emma’s husband, so Mariah had to get to him first.
Pulling her cell phone out of her bag, she tried to get hold of Mason. Got his voice mail, damn it. Both of them were supposed to be watching Novak. She had called earlier and left a voicemail telling both of them that Novak was headed up to the compound and to stick close to him in case he got in trouble and that she’d meet them in their motel room later. Told them to wait for her call. Told them what was happening at her end and that it would soon be time to move in.
Emma stayed in the bedroom for a long time, almost an hour. Mariah had almost decided that she had fallen asleep, but then she finally showed up. She looked a lot better. Dressed in dry, warm clothes. Calm. Color had come back into her cheeks a little, but her eyes were active, darting all around. Her black eye was swelling up some. But she still appeared anxious and nervous and fearful. She had good reason to be. She had no idea what was coming down on her in a matter of hours.
