The Chilling Spree

by LS Sygnet

  “Fulk? I thought you’d be looking for Madden for sure.”

  Hadn’t Scott Madden said something about management forcing Underwood into his employment without much option from his side of the agreement?

  I changed tactics. “Mr. Maverick, it’s imperative that we find Mr. Underwood immediately. As you know, this is an ongoing investigation. We’ve had to place a number of people into protective custody.”

  He eyed me warily. “And not two minutes ago, you just told me that the police lie. It’s what you do, remember?”

  “For God’s sake,” Johnny hissed. “Two of Underwood’s family members have been murdered tonight. We need to find him right now!”

  Maverick’s eyes bulged. “His sister?” He flung the door wide open. “Shit! Woody was staying with her while we wait for this mess with Madden’s freak nephew to be resolved.”

  “I can assure you. Mr. Underwood was not at his sister’s home earlier tonight,” Johnny said. “Can you think of anywhere else he might’ve gone?”

  “Willingly? No. But I think I might know where you’ll find him anyway,” Maverick said. He stepped into the room and scribbled something on a notepad on the desk. He tore off the sheet and thrust it into my hand. “This shit has gone too far already, Detective Eriksson. I wanted to tell you the truth Sunday night, but we all fear for our jobs a little too much to be completely forthright.”

  I stared at the address on the paper in my hand. It was vaguely familiar. A moment later, it clicked in my head. “You think he’s been staying with Scott Madden out on Hennessey Island?”

  “Not voluntarily,” Maverick said.

  “Mr. Maverick,” Johnny said slowly, “are you insinuating that it is your belief that Scott Madden had something to do with the murder of his nephew?”

  He shook his head. “You cops just don’t get it. I’m not insinuating it. I’m saying it outright. You don’t know what a low-life bastard prick this guy really is. He’s a terrorist who hides behind a brilliant publicist and contracts that’ll ruin lives if we ever breech his precious confidentiality. I won’t go into what I know about his dirty little secrets, but I’ll tell you one thing. Underwood knows more about the truth than anybody else. If you can protect him, and convince him to talk, you’ll have all the evidence you could ever need to put Madden behind bars for the rest of his life.”

  “I want you available to make a statement when I call,” Johnny said. “Contract or no, I’m sick of you people impeding a police investigation. It stops come sunrise. Are we clear?”

  Maverick nodded.

  And I couldn’t believe Johnny was falling for Underwood’s carefully crafted lie.

  Chapter 36

  The doors barely slammed shut when Johnny yanked the paper out of my hand and studied the address.

  “Please tell me you’re not buying that bullshit, Johnny.”

  He snorted. “Do you really think I’m that stupid? Madden would be recognized in a heartbeat if he strolled into The Cockpit and killed Bobbi Tippet. He’s probably has photographers following him every time he pokes his head out for a latte. Maverick believes what he said was true, but no doubt, Underwood has been setting up his boss to look like a real bastard for a long time. I realize that Madden and one brother are estranged, but the wife didn’t say one single thing that indicated that he didn’t adore Kyle.”

  I sighed my relief. “Well thank God for that. Rham didn’t disparage his brother either, and even the disgust that Theo Goddard spewed seemed rooted in sibling rivalry and jealousy and not any kind of fear that Scott would hurt Kyle.”

  “Then again, Scott made Underwood aware of his nephew’s true gender a long time ago,” Johnny said.

  “There could’ve been a valid reason for it,” I argued. “Maybe it was his way of letting Underwood know that he needed to back off. One thing I don’t doubt is that all of these people working for Pan Demon share a single fear. Their boss. I might be curious enough to find out what Madden’s really hiding, but my gut says it has nothing to do with murder.”

  “We’re not gonna find Underwood at Madden’s house.”

  “I highly doubt it, Johnny. At the same time, we’ve been wrong before. I feel like I owe you an apology.”

  “What for?”

  “Being so far off the mark on this one.”

  He reached over and squeezed my thigh. “It’s partly my fault, running around acting like a crazy man, wanting you on the case, throwing you off, issuing ultimatums. This isn’t all your fault, sweetheart.”

  On the drive to Hennessey Island, Johnny said, “Crazy man issues aside, I’d like to insist that the upcoming conversation erase the need for you to have dinner with this guy tomorrow night.”

  “Insist away. I’ve had enough of these people to last me a lifetime. Besides, it’s not like this dinner was ever what I let Madden think it might be earlier tonight, Johnny. Remember? We lie. It’s what we do.”

  “So long as you aren’t doing it to me.”

  My little spark of guilt blazed to life again. He read the words in my silence.

  “Did you lie when you said you love me?”

  “No.”

  “Is there something about Rick’s suicide that I don’t know?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, that’s all right, Helen. I’d rather you stop reliving that moment and put it in the past where it belongs. Can we at least agree to leave it there?”

  “Yes,” I said. More like hell yes please and thank you forever in my brain. “I was out here for a couple of weeks when I was working on my doctorate you know,” I spoke quietly. “After I moved here last spring, I couldn’t seem to stop wishing that I’d made different choices, Johnny.”

  “Was that the trip when Rodney Martin invited you here?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What sort of things were you wishing, Doc?” He threaded our fingers together.

  “Wondering mostly. Wishing is a lot like prayer in my mind. Pretty pointless.”

  “All right. What did you wonder?”

  “What my life might’ve been like if I happened to meet you while I was here. If there had never been a marriage to Rick. If you would’ve loved me when I was young the way you do now.”

  He squeezed my hand. “Those are some beautiful thoughts. I think I would’ve loved you on sight no matter when we met, Helen. Anything that would’ve prevented you from living a life of pain and isolation would’ve been what I wanted too. I can’t turn back time and erase all of that, but I can give you happiness and peace now, if you’ll let me.”

  Tears started leaking from my eyes again. “I don’t want this life anymore, Johnny. I can’t keep chasing monsters. I hate the responsibility of doing everything in such a way that people don’t slip through the cracks and get off on some stupid technicality.”

  “You’re worried about Datello, aren’t you?”

  I nodded.

  “The temptation to behave like Wendell?”

  “I considered it when I returned George Hardy’s phone call last spring,” I said. “He’s gonna get into court and still try to play this card, that I was his cousin by marriage. He’ll try to create reasonable doubt based on –”

  “Shh,” Johnny soothed. “He can try. We’ve got dozens of people who have worked with you every step of the way on this, Helen. We know that you wouldn’t do him a favor for any reason under the sun. Don’t worry about that. We’ve got your back.”

  Johnny didn’t understand that I already skidded off the rails. My genes probably guaranteed that at some point, I’d become Daddy’s Girl in every way imaginable. Like I’ve always said. Where I’m concerned, in the battle of nature versus nurture, I’m simply screwed. Something is wrong with me. With Dad too. We don’t give a damn about civil law, because it fails. At that point, the reactions are beyond our control.

  These thoughts and deep seeded understanding of my actions defy other knowledge that I have. People always have choices. I made a decision to take matters into m
y own hands. Nobody forced me to kill. But when I remember that night, everything feels so different from what rationality tells me happened.

  One minute Rick was threatening me. The next, my finger started squeezing. Not because I wanted to become a killer. Not because I believed that the federal government wouldn’t eventually make it’s case.

  There was a line in the dirt that night, a line that Rick ignored. I doubt he knew it was there after ten years of marriage to a woman he thought was bland and boring. Something outside me squeezed the trigger on that gun. I know it as much as I know that I can’t live with the temptation of crossing the line again because of my job. It happened before. It will happen again.

  That’s where the choice enters into the equation. I cannot remain in situations that will tempt me to kill again. That’s the bottom line.

  I can live with the guilt, with the niggling shame that I’ve lied to someone who means everything to me. I can do that, but only if I know beyond a shadow of doubt that there’s an end in sight to temptation. Only that will stop my descent down the slippery slope. Johnny is the anchor that will pull me out of this genetic pre-destiny. All I have to do is hang on and never let go.

  “You’re very quiet,” Johnny broke into my thoughts.

  “Just thinking about when I should speak what’s on my mind. We’ve bungled this case pretty badly with the inability to compartmentalize until an appropriate time.”

  “Tell me now,” Johnny said.

  “I just wanted to say that for my entire adult life, I’ve sort of been proud of the fact that I didn’t need people. Everything that came my way, I dealt with it.”

  “I see.”

  “No, you really don’t.” I shoved his hand into my coat pocket with mine. “I need you, Johnny. I don’t want to do everything alone anymore. I should’ve never signed that stupid contract with Finkelstein last fall. But I’ll honor it, and I’ll get through the next few months because I’ve got you.”

  “Are we leaving Darkwater Bay when you’re done working for Downey Division?”

  I knew what he really wanted to hear me say. Strange place, this small corner of the world. Darkwater Bay was definitely changing me. “I’ll be wherever you are, Johnny. Darkwater Bay, Montgomery, wherever your life takes us.”

  Johnny pulled over on the bridge to Hennessey Island. He tugged his hand free and cupped my face between strong fingers. “Doc, that’s not at all what I expected you to say, but you just made me the happiest man alive.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Sure that I love you. Whatever comes next for us, that’s never gonna change. Let me talk to Shelly when this case is done. I’ll do everything in my power to put an end to that contract now. I don’t want your misery prolonged for another day, Helen.”

  “Hurry to Madden’s place,” I said. “I want this over now.”

  “You got it, sweetheart.”

  A sense of calm settled over me, warm but foreign. I’d never experienced such a feeling in all my life. Every time Dad left for work when I was a child, I experienced the same sense of panic and unease that I felt every day since his arrest. Now, it was gone.

  Johnny pulled up beside an ostentatious property on the island. “This is it. And he really thinks nobody knows who the place belongs to? Please.”

  The home was a sprawling mansion built in the Mediterranean villa style. Lots of stucco, white columns and a red tile roof that was unmistakable even in the pitch black of night.

  “Do you think he’ll let us through the gate?” I asked.

  “We’ll soon find out.” Johnny reached through the open window and depressed the intercom button.

  We waited. And waited.

  He started pounding on the damn thing.

  “Yeah, yeah, what’s the big emergency?” The trademark musical growl crackled through the speaker.

  “Orion and Eriksson. We need to speak to you immediately, Mr. Madden. There’s been a new development in the investigation into your nephew’s murder.”

  Madden didn’t respond. The gate, however, jerked and slowly opened.

  “Not such a moron after all, is he?” Johnny muttered.

  Madden met us at the front door. His eyes looked ready to squirt blood from the dilated veins. I recalled Underwood’s assertion that Madden hadn’t really gone drug free, simply switched to herbs that wouldn’t light up a tox screen like a Christmas tree.

  “Mr. Madden, are you all right?” I asked.

  He rubbed one eye. “I was asleep. What’s this all about?” A little slur tainted his speech.

  “Are you stoned?”

  Madden cursed softly. “What’s the big emergency, Commander Orion? Have you found out who killed my nephew?” He paused, eyes roving from Johnny to me and back again. “Or is that why you’re here? Someone convinced you that I had something to do with Kylie’s murder.”

  “Mr. Madden, are we here alone?” Johnny asked.

  “Does it look like I’ve been entertaining guests? Of course we’re here alone.”

  “Scott,” I stepped forward and gripped his arm. “Let’s go sit down and talk.”

  “You’re starting to freak me out. What’s going on?”

  “When was the last time you saw Fulk Underwood?” Johnny asked.

  Confusion was quickly replaced by the dawn of understanding. “You thought I’d let that little shit into my house?”

  “Scott, please. Let’s sit down and talk.”

  He nodded. “All right, but before we do, you need to understand that I haven’t liked him from day one. There’s a lot of shit I can control with the band, but getting rid of his ass hasn’t been something I could ever wrest any influence over.”

  “I’d like to know how that arrangement came to exist,” Johnny said. He followed close behind Madden and me into the gaudy living room.

  I sat beside Scott. “Tell me what unusual circumstance evolved that prevented you from firing someone who has been a divisive force behind the scenes of your business.”

  “He… shit,” Madden muttered. “There’s no point in hiding the truth now. Kylie is dead. Underwood can’t hurt my family anymore.”

  “He threatened to expose your nephew’s lifestyle to your fans.”

  Madden nodded at Johnny. “Frankly, I wouldn’t have cared one little bit either way. If people wanna hate the band and be assholes because I love my family and accept them for who they are, so be it. Those aren’t the kind of fans I want anyway.”

  “But you were worried about Kylie,” I said.

  “He wasn’t even fourteen yet, detective. A lot of shit can change for a kid between that age and adulthood. I know it sure changed for me.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Madden looked up at Johnny. “When I was young, I went through some of the same shit Kylie did. I realized that a huge part of it was just wanting to get under Theo’s skin. You know, how outrageous could I be? How much would it embarrass him? Turns out, Theo would’ve defended me with his dying breath if need be. If that’s who I decided I’d really be.”

  “Are you telling us that you’ve had… experiences with men?” Johnny asked.

  “It’s no crime,” he growled. “I’d have to say that I prefer women. Then again, there are times when I find myself seriously attracted to men. I don’t live that aspect of who I am in the public eye, but at the same time, I’ve never disparaged anybody who does.”

  “All right,” I said. “And Underwood knew this about you?”

  “He figured it out,” he muttered. “The guy’s got some kind of sixth sense about such things. He already had something on our management company, weaseled out a contract that literally prevented me from firing him for any reason. This guy is scum, Helen. You have no idea the shit he’s told other people about me.”

  Madden clenched his fists. “What really pisses me off is that people believe him.”

  “What has he told Maverick about you?” Johnny asked.

  “I’m not sure what the story of the ye
ar is. It’s been everything from pedophilia to involuntary manslaughter while driving under the influence. I was arrested for DUI a long time ago. There was no death or dismemberment involved. It’s a matter of public record if you don’t believe me. Why these morons listen to him instead of doing a little research on their own is beyond me.”

  “Just to clarify your current religious affiliation,” Johnny said, “would you mind telling me what it is right now?”

  “Probably what you’d call very liberal Christian,” Madden said. “It’s never gonna be good enough for Theo unless I come back to the church. I suppose I consider my religious beliefs a private affair. I’m not trying to force them onto anyone. I don’t even talk about them. I figure people have the right to live the way they want to. It’s none of my business.”

  “So this Buddhist thing…”

  He waved it aside. “It was popular with the fans. I didn’t see the need to upset anybody, so when I had my little religious awakening, that was that. Of course, Underwood probably has told the world it’s a cover for Satan worship or some such nonsense.”

  My curiosity was piqued beyond control. “When you say liberal Christian, what do you mean exactly?”

  “The good stuff in the bible,” he said. “The love and forgiveness parts. The rest of that claptrap isn’t worth the recycled paper it’s printed on if you ask me – no offense to those who like the blood lust and vengeance shit in the Old Testament. It’s what turned me off to Christianity in the first place. How would that ever make somebody like me comfortable? Not only was I a very disobedient kid, I fooled around with men sometimes. Doesn’t that make me damned by those standards?”

  “It would, if someone devoutly believed it,” I said.

  “Do you have any idea where we might find Fulk Underwood?” Johnny asked.

  Madden frowned. “Isn’t he with everyone else at the hotel?”

  “No,” Johnny said. “He was staying with his half-sister in Downey. She’s dead and we can’t find good old Fulk.”

  Madden gave Johnny a hard stare. “He killed Kylie, didn’t he? You think he killed his sister too.”