“Oh, we’re going to Colorado. But let him follow us there.” She smiles. “Let’s wear him out, physically and financially. He’s got no real power over you, and it’s not like he’s going to walk up to you in the street and shoot you dead. This is all just a game for him. So let him play by himself while you get on with your life. If you happen to cross paths eventually, then you’ll get the chance to confront him.”
He thinks about it and realizes that makes a lot of sense. He just wishes they could face each other man to man and end this today. He wants to confront Father Connor and find out what Stacey was going to tell him the night she died; what she had discovered. It has to be about her uncle. It has to explain why he killed her. But meeting man to man isn’t how cowards work. Father Connor is biding his time. He probably wants to stage Nate’s murder as a suicide, as that would make Nate appear to have committed the gravest sin. It might also suggest to the priest’s supporters—of whom there are many—that Nate feels guilt for Stacey’s death. But murdering him will be difficult while he has Madison travelling with him.
He stands up straight and relaxes his shoulders. “You’re right. Let’s ignore him for now.” He doesn’t feel as confident as he sounds, but he doesn’t want her to see how badly the guy affects him.
Madison rubs his back. “Come on, Nate. You’ve got this.”
He returns her smile, but inside he’s sinking.
Seventy
April 2017—Polunsky Unit, Livingston, Texas
Nate hasn’t seen or heard from Kristen since her visit in January, and it’s weighing heavy on his mind. Is it because of what he accused her of? Right now, he doesn’t care if she’s helping every inmate on death row, as long as she comes back to visit him. It’s driving him crazy not knowing what’s happening. His letters go unanswered, and he doesn’t have a phone number for her. He tried calling the university where she works, but they wouldn’t tell him anything. They were probably scared off by the recorded penitentiary message that precedes his few permitted calls.
Today he’s been told his lawyer is visiting him. As Johnny, a new correctional officer, leads him to the interview room, he’s secretly hoping to see Kristen there instead of Steve Freeman, his attorney.
Steve has a stupid grin on his face and Nate wants to strangle him with his cuffs. These last few months have been the toughest yet, because Kristen raised his hopes and has left him with nothing. That’s worse than if he’d never met her. It’s making Nate quick to anger.
Once he’s chained to the table, the guard hovers. Nate turns and looks up at him. “I think you’ll find that what’s said between a man and his lawyer is confidential.”
Johnny looks annoyed but jittery, like he’s eager to hear what they’re going to talk about.
Steve speaks up. “Come on, Johnny, you know the drill. Outside.”
Johnny reluctantly leaves, but after he’s closed the door, he keeps peeping in through the reinforced glass window.
Nate can’t understand why he’s so interested. He turns to his lawyer. “What’s going on?”
“Well, Nate. I have the best news. Are you ready for this?”
Nate grits his teeth. “Stop dragging it out and just tell me, for Christ’s sake!”
Steve’s smile falters, but he continues. “As of now, legally but not technically, not yet anyway, you’re a free man.”
Nate’s not in the mood for sick jokes. “If I wasn’t chained to this table, I’d earn my place on death row by beating you to a pulp.” He’s surprised at his own reaction, but prison has taught him how to behave like an animal.
“No, Nate! I’m not shitting you. The judge overturned your conviction this morning. The blood on the hammer was re-tested and we know now that it’s not yours. There is absolutely no forensic evidence to link you to Stacey’s murder other than the cops finding you next to her body, and we have the neighbor’s testimony that he saw you arrive just before the cops, meaning you didn’t have enough time to get into an argument and kill her.” He pauses, giving it time to sink in.
Nate’s eyes sting. He daren’t speak. The shock is numbing his mental reaction, but his body is way ahead of him. His face is wet within seconds. His hands start shaking and it spreads to his torso. He’s overcome with trembling and he can’t stop his teeth from chattering. “Tell me you’re not lying to me?”
Steve gets up and claps him on the back. “You did it, Nate! You not only survived death row, but you managed to get out. Well, your friend Kristen and her college kids did it really. How do you feel, my man?”
Nate lowers his head into his shackled hands and starts sobbing. Images of Stacey dead on the floor overwhelm him. It’s guilt. Guilt that he can feel happiness when Stacey is still dead. Steve sits back down.
“Now for the bad news. It’ll take a while to get you out. God knows the Texas judicial system moves slowly, but you’ll be moved to solitary eventually in order to keep you safe. It could take months, even years, but you have something to hold on to now. You’ve been exonerated and you will get out. Just hold on, okay?”
Months, years? How can that be fair? He’s an innocent man but the state is going to keep him locked up for even longer while they sort out the admin? He tries not to let that ruin this moment. He’s done seventeen years; he can do a few more months. But he can’t help worrying they’ll change their minds in the meantime. His freedom is so close, but he won’t believe it until he walks out the front entrance of this hellhole.
Eventually he looks up. “Where’s Kristen?”
Steve takes a deep breath. “I haven’t been able to track her down. From what I can gather from speaking to the university, she stopped showing up for work in February.” He pauses. “Her family notified the police that she was missing, but they’ve not found her. All her things are still at her house. It’s not looking good.”
Nate shakes his head. Why would she just vanish? Then Father Connor comes into his mind, and his body tenses. He wouldn’t. Would he?
Seventy-One
Nate and Brody creep downstairs behind Madison and she gives them the all-clear when she’s certain there’s no one around, but Brody is excited by their covert operation and he barks.
Madison looks up at the guest house and spots Mary watching them from the parlor window. She looks unimpressed. “Shit. We’ve been rumbled.” She gives Mary a wave that isn’t returned.
“She’s going to kick us out, isn’t she?” asks Nate, getting into the car.
“Probably.”
He turns to the dog. “You need to teach me your police code so I know how to instruct you in situations like this.”
Brody seems to enjoy being spoken to. He barks and then leans in for a sloppy lick of Nate’s face.
“Eugh, Brody! I’m going to smell of dog breath all day now. That’s not exactly going to make me a babe magnet.”
He notices the mess on the back seat.
“Have you seen the amount of fur this dog sheds?” he asks.
Madison has already spotted how much of Brody’s fur is covering the upholstery, but she didn’t want to get the dog into trouble so she kept it to herself. She laughs as she buckles her seat belt. “He can’t help it.”
Nate shakes his head and drives away from the guest house, heading to the address Rex gave them for Detective Morgan.
The sat nav tells her it’s about twenty miles from Shadow Falls. While Nate drives, Madison compulsively checks her cell phone.
“Not heard back from your police contact yet?”
She looks at him and sighs. “No. I told him to let me know when he’d spoken to Stephanie, but there’s been no word.”
“Maybe he’s just busy and hasn’t had a chance to stop by yet.”
She looks out of the window. “Maybe.”
“If you’re worried, why don’t you call him back? Or call Stephanie?”
“I already tried her earlier, but she didn’t reply. That’s not unheard of, though. She doesn’t like living in the past, a
nd calls from me are just a reminder of everything that happened, so she tends to ignore them unless she needs something. I’d rather not call Mike again yet.” She looks at Nate. “It was awkward. I knew it would be, but I felt uncomfortable talking to someone from back then. I don’t even know if I can trust him.”
Nate nods. He probably understands. “Well, hopefully we’ll find Jennifer Lucas eating breakfast at Morgan’s house and we can be out of here by lunchtime.”
She laughs. “Wouldn’t that be nice.”
When they pull up on Morgan’s street, Madison looks around to make sure no one’s paying any attention to them. The houses are small and packed together. Trinity Creek is much bigger than Shadow Falls, but that just means it’ll be harder to get into his house unnoticed.
“Look.” She points out Morgan’s house. A woman is coming out the front door and she has a young girl with her. “Oh my God, is that Jenny?”
Nate stares for a few seconds and then opens the photos he took on his phone of the family portraits at Jenny’s house. Madison looks over his shoulder. Jenny is blonde and skinny. They both look up at the girl getting into the back of a red Ford while the woman holds the door open for her. She has black hair, jet black. Almost like it’s dyed. But then Morgan’s hair is mostly dark, with a few greys around the temples. The girl looks more athletic than Jenny, but Madison doesn’t know how long ago the family portraits were taken. She could have had a growth spurt since then.
“It’s hard to tell from this distance, and Jenny has blonde hair, not black,” says Nate. “It’s safer to assume it’s not her until we know otherwise.”
She nods. “That’s got to be Morgan’s wife. But if he’s having an affair with Anna, and hiding his own child, his wife would have something to say, surely?”
Nate appears to think about it. “Maybe his wife can’t have kids of her own and jumped at the chance of taking on Jenny?”
They both watch in silence as the woman drives away from the house. She doesn’t pass them so they can’t see much.
“Still want to go in?” asks Madison.
Nate starts the car and looks at her. “Not yet. Let’s follow them instead.”
She smiles. “You really should’ve been a cop.”
To her delight, he gives her a look to suggest he’s offended.
Seventy-two
The office of Dr. Pamela Jarvis
Pamela pushes the journal away and opens the report she asked Stephen to obtain for her. She reads the front page. It’s stamped with Child Protective Services and Confidential. All she knows is that this report is about a baby called Jennie Scott, who was eighteen months old when child services discovered her. She takes a deep breath. Even after everything she’s already read, she knows this is going to be the worst part.
She skips the photos and starts by reading about the reasons for Jennie’s removal from her biological parents. Certain key phrases jump out at her.
Father unknown. Mom was an alcoholic and heavy smoker who frequently left the baby alone for long periods while she worked as a prostitute… Would bring multiple men home at the same time to maximize income, putting the baby at risk of abuse… On one occasion the fire department were called as Jennie had started a fire by knocking over one of Mom’s candles. The smoke had woken Mom and she’d got them out of the apartment just in time. After they were moved to a new apartment, neighbors complained about the baby’s long bouts of crying… Mother was heard through the walls screaming at Jennie, sometimes this would be followed by a “thud and then silence”… Jennie was placed in foster care on several occasions while Mom worked through her issues, but she always requested to have her back. This was granted when she showed sufficient improvement in her attitude, her addiction and her living conditions. But she had a pattern of skipping town and starting over with a new social worker, who would be unaware that she was already well known to child services in another state…
Finally, after a witness reported the baby being left home alone, CPS and the local police intervened, attending the address together. Jennie was found without a diaper, and her crib was badly soiled, suggesting she’d been alone for a number of days. She had signs of malnutrition and had been eating wallpaper she’d pulled off the walls from around her crib.
Pamela gulps back her anguish. She reaches for another bourbon, not caring now if her breath smells of liquor by the end of the day. No one should have to know that this stuff goes on in the world; that a parent can be so neglectful of their own child. And for what? So she can earn enough money to score drugs?
She leafs through the photos of the apartment Jennie and her mother shared. It’s obvious her mom didn’t put any of her earnings into looking after the home or taking care of her baby. Pamela usually has more sympathy than most for addicts—after all, she’s qualified to know it’s a horrible disease that isn’t the fault of the addict—but there’s no excuse for not putting your child before your cravings. That woman could’ve taken Jennie to CPS at any time. She could’ve left her with a friend or a neighbor while she was out.
She comes across a photo of Jennie in her crib on the day CPS found her. “Oh my God.” She covers her mouth. The baby’s hands are reaching out to the owner of the camera like she’s asking to be picked up and hugged. Her eyes are red, desperate and needy. Her body is brown from the waist down. There are what look like cigarette burns all over her arms.
“That poor child,” she mutters. “She was rescued from one horrific home to go to another.”
She shakes her head as she forces herself to read on.
Seventy-Three
Nate pulls up a few cars away from the house Morgan’s wife has entered. It’s nicer than the house she left, with a large, well-manicured front garden and a US flag flapping gently in the warm breeze. They didn’t arrive in time to see the girl enter the house, but they can see Morgan’s wife walking back to her car and waving at someone. An elderly woman is at the door waving back as she drives away.
“Now what?” asks Madison.
He turns to her. “Now we knock on the door and ask if we can borrow the phone.”
“What? Why would she let us do that? It’s not 1954!”
He smiles, realizing she’s right. “Okay, what’s your suggestion?”
“How about we say we’re Jehovah’s Witnesses? She’s more likely to let us in. You can dazzle her with your knowledge of the Bible while I pretend to use the bathroom.”
Nate thinks about the years he spent devoted to his faith. It hurts to recollect how different his life was before he fell in love with Stacey. “I don’t think I could remember anything these days. I’ve not picked up a Bible in a long time.”
Madison waves in dismissal. “She’s old, she’ll probably invite us in for a cup of tea and some cake no matter what we say.”
He isn’t so sure. “You can do the talking.”
As they walk up the garden path, the front door opens and the elderly woman appears. The only problem is, she’s holding a shotgun.
“Who are you and why are you on my property without permission?” she says, with a cigarette hanging out the side of her mouth.
Madison reacts fastest. “I’m sorry to bother you, ma’am, but we’re just here to spread the good word of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior.”
Nate looks at her in surprise. Where did she come up with that?
The woman scoffs. “There’s no such thing as God. Get off my property before I shoot you and let you find that out for yourself.”
They both walk back to the sidewalk, just outside her property line, but Nate doesn’t want to leave. He needs to know whether that’s Jenny in there. He turns back to face her.
“Ma’am? I’m going to come clean with you; we’re colleagues of Ted Morgan. We just wanted to ask you a few questions.”
She appears to consider it, even lowers her gun. “He’s married to my daughter. I always thought she could do better, though.”
Just then the young girl appears at th
e door. “What’s going on, Grandma?”
Nate lifts his cell phone and snaps a photo as fast as possible. “What’s your name?” he shouts.
The girl looks startled and the grandmother steps in front of her protectively. “What do you think you’re doing? This is my granddaughter. Why are you here?”
“We’re looking for the girl who went missing from Camp Fearless over in Shadow Falls,” says Madison. “We thought your granddaughter could be her.”
“What?” The old woman cackles with laughter. “This is Taylor. She’s not the missing girl! Have you spoken to Ted about this?”
“Not yet, but we will,” says Nate. “Taylor, is that correct? Your real name isn’t Jennifer Lucas?”
The girl laughs, but she’s nervous. “Of course not. I’m Taylor Morgan.”
She certainly looks like she’s telling the truth, which means they’ve got this all wrong. “I’m sorry to have bothered you both. We’ll catch up with Ted as soon as possible, let him know what happened here. If you see him first, tell him Nate Monroe dropped by. He might swear a little, but there’s no harm done.”
The woman laughs. “This is the most entertainment I’ve had all week. Wait till I tell my girls at the shooting range.”
She turns around and closes the door behind her. Nate feels stupid as he walks back to the car.
“It was worth a try,” says Madison, sensing his mood. “Trust me, it’s always worth a try. For every failed attempt there’s a possible success, and that can mean the difference between life and death in cases like this.”
Brody sniffs Nate’s ear from the back seat. “I don’t get it,” Nate says. “If she’s not Jenny, then what has Morgan’s prior relationship with Anna got to do with Jenny’s disappearance?”
“We still don’t know for a fact they were even in a relationship. It could be they just knew each other at college and all this has been a coincidence. Although I’m with you. It would be some coincidence for Anna’s daughter to go missing in the same town a former friend has jurisdiction over.”
Shadow Falls Page 25
