by Brenda Novak
“Without letting Megan get involved.”
“Right.” That was going to be the tricky part.
“You’re the one there. I trust your call,” Nick said. “Want me to come down?”
“I’m not sure what you could do to help—other than provide distraction. I think sheer frustration at how slow a case like this can progress and the reality that we might never find all the answers are going to be the toughest things for her to handle.” For Lucy as well, but that was part of the job.
“Let me see if I can get someone to cover for me.” His tone was doubtful—if it had been that easy, he would have made the arrangements to start with.
Before he hung up, she had one more request. Something had been nagging at her ever since she’d seen the crime scene. “Can you give me Don Burroughs’ home number?” Burroughs was her Pittsburgh Police Bureau friend who used a pump just like the one Pastor Fleming had lost. “I need to ask him about insulin pumps.” Used to be she’d memorize all the contact numbers she needed—now they were all at her fingertips stored in her cell, except of course, when it was out of commission.
“I’ll try my best to get down there,” Nick assured her after giving her Burroughs’ number. “In the meantime, watch out. For both of you.”
“You know I will.”
***
When Mateo woke again, the boat had come to a stop, the lurching motion replaced by a gentle rocking. He felt sick but his mouth was so parched he couldn’t even bring himself to throw up. There was the sound of a small engine then the boat’s rocking grew stronger as someone climbed on board.
“How could you be so stupid?” a woman asked. Her voice was muffled by the fiberglass walls between Mateo’s prison and the deck. He’d decided he was locked inside a storage compartment, either below deck or inside a cabin. “One simple little job, that’s all you had. And you had to go and turn it into a kidnapping? What were you thinking?”
“I don’t feel well.” A man’s voice. Not as loud, harder to make out. “Did you bring it?”
They moved away, only scattered words reaching Mateo. “FBI” was one of them—Megan’s mom, was she looking for him? Or had she and Megan gone to the house to meet him and gotten hurt?
Who did all that blood belong to? Why would anyone want to hurt the Flemings?
“Thank God for my sister. I’ve convinced her—” The woman must have moved closer to the cabin because her voice was clear again.
“You mean blackmailed her.”
“Her fault for letting all those medical bills pile up. She should be grateful we’re cutting her in, letting her help us out of this jam you created. We have one chance to get this right and the timing has to be perfect. They can test for things like that.”
“Like what?” The man sounded exhausted, his voice dragging.
“Time of death.”
Chapter 13
Megan waited impatiently for her mom to finish talking to her dad. She sat on her bed on the other side of the room, but didn’t need to hear a word to know how things were going.
First, Dad was mad—with Megan and with Lucy. As her mom calmed him down, Lucy’s body relaxed as well, until at the end, she was practically curled around the phone as if she wanted to reach through it to be with him. Which meant everything was all right.
Megan bounced to her feet and gestured to Lucy. She finally hung up and came back inside.
“What’s the rush?” Lucy asked. “You know, as busy as they are, we’ll just be sitting and waiting at the police station for the rest of the night.”
“Maybe they found Mateo and were too busy to call us—or couldn’t since you were on my phone.” Which her mom wouldn’t have had to borrow if she had a protective waterproof-shockproof case on her phone like the one Megan had gotten after dropping her phone one time too many on muddy soccer fields. She led the way to the door. “C’mon, Mom.”
Lucy shoved her wallet, still wet from its dunking, laptop, her gun—no worries about it getting wet, Glocks were designed for that contingency—knife, their room key, and Megan’s phone into her beach tote. She frowned at the way everything clunked when she lifted it, but it was better than her soaked messenger bag. “It’s almost six. Maybe we should get something to eat first. It’s going to be a long night.”
“Can’t we check in with the police first?” Last thing Megan could think about was food.
Lucy relented. “Okay.” Then she surprised Megan by hugging her and planting a kiss on her forehead. “That’s from Dad.”
Megan edged away and opened the door. Lucy followed her out.
“He’s mad, isn’t he? About Mateo. Why? I hang out with older guys all the time—at soccer and Kempo and when we go shooting.”
“Older guys that we know,” Lucy said as they waited for the elevator. Megan knew her mom’s ankle had to be hurting for her to take the elevator. Lucy had a cane in the car; Megan made a note to remind her mom that she was supposed to be using it. Not that Lucy would listen. And they called Megan stubborn.
They got onto the elevator. “I don’t think your dad’s as upset about you meeting Mateo as much as he is worried that Mateo might not be who you think he is.”
“I’m not one of your victims, suckered in by some psychopath. I know Mateo is innocent, even without waiting to see where the evidence leads.” She threw Lucy’s own words back at her. “This is still America, right? Innocent until proven guilty, right?”
“Megan. That’s not the issue. I want Mateo to be innocent as well. I especially want him and Pastor Fleming to be found safe and sound. But none of that matters compared to making sure you’re not hurt.”
The elevator stopped and the doors opened onto the parking level below the hotel lobby. Megan rushed out, heading toward the Subaru. “I’m not a child,” she tossed over her shoulder, knowing that Lucy, with her bad ankle, wouldn’t be able to keep up with her. “I don’t need you to protect me. I need you to do your job and help them find Mateo before it’s too late.”
When they arrived at the police station, a tiny single-story concrete building that smelled like a dentist office, Megan was surprised to see Mateo’s family clustered around the chairs in the front lobby. There was a reception desk manned by a gray-haired man in a police officer’s uniform but with no badge, and behind him were glass doors leading into the working area of the station, what her mom would call the bull pen.
“What happened?” Megan asked Hildy, who was perched on the edge of one of the plastic chairs, Jorge beside her, holding her hand.
“We don’t know. They called us to come in, but told us to wait here. All but Anna. She’s back there now.” Hildy nodded to the door behind the reception desk.
“Do you think your mother can find out for us?” Jorge asked.
Lucy was already talking to the man at the desk. A reserve officer or civilian worker, Megan guessed. Maybe retired police or military from the way he kept his posture so straight despite his age, at least in his sixties. The man examined Lucy’s credentials, eyed Megan, then picked up his phone. After a moment, Officer Gant appeared at the door.
Megan hastened to join her mother. Hildy and Jorge stood and stepped forward, but Gant waved them back. While he was focused on them, Megan slipped past the doorway on her mom’s other side, figuring it’d be harder for them to kick her out once the door locked behind her.
Gant frowned at her but let her stay. “You can wait in there.” He gestured to the open door of an interview room. “The chief needs your mom first.”
Megan hesitated but Lucy nodded. “I’ll be right back.”
Megan crossed the bullpen to the room Gant had indicated. There were four desks all covered with evidence: crime scene photos, the note with the safe combination, the knife. Why weren’t they at the state crime lab? Had the techs not arrived yet? Gant led Lucy to a small office on the far side of the desks.
There was one more interview room beside the one Megan stood outside of—empty and with the same reinforc
ed steel door and window as her room. Multipurpose, interview and lock them up, made sense for a small town. The chief had the only proper office, glass walls like Lucy’s office back home.
Chief Hayden was there now along with Mateo’s mother, who sat in a straight-backed chair, face buried in her hands, shoulders heaving. Gant and Lucy joined them and the Chief turned her computer monitor around so they could all watch something. Whatever it was, it made Mrs. Romero even more upset.
Finally, Gant escorted Anna from the chief’s office to the room beside Megan’s. He stood, facing both of them, arms crossed over his chest as if he were guarding maximum-security prisoners. Megan didn’t care. It was obvious Mrs. Romero needed help, so she strode out of her room past Gant, flinging him a glare that dared him to stop her. He surprised her by giving her a small nod of approval as she joined Mateo’s mother in the room next door.
“What’s happened?” she asked, crouching beside Anna’s chair. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“They’re saying he did this. That tape—” She broke off, choking on tears. “It’s fake. It has to be.”
“What was on the tape?”
“It’s a ransom demand. One million dollars or Pastor Fleming dies.”
“And Mateo?” It was clear the Romeros didn’t have that kind of money. “What will happen to him?”
She shook her head. “No. You don’t understand. They didn’t ask for any money for Mateo.” She raised one hand to her mouth then lowered it again, wrapping it around her other hand on her lap. “On the tape. There’s a few seconds where you can see a mirror. And Mateo. As if he’s the one filming Pastor Fleming. They say he’s the kidnapper. They want to arrest him.”
Chapter 14
“What choice do I have but to get an arrest warrant?” Hayden asked Lucy. “I have the kid’s fingerprints in the victim’s blood at the crime scene on the paper with the safe combo and the knife. Not to mention on the Pastor’s insulin pump. And now this.” She gestured to the computer screen where she’d frozen it on the frame that caught Mateo’s face reflected in a mirror.
“Play it again for me,” Lucy asked.
Hayden was rushing things, letting her emotions drive her rather than the facts. Lucy glanced around the office. On a credenza behind the desk were several photos: Hayden in uniform, with her officers, accepting an award, and several photos of Hayden with what Lucy supposed were prominent residents including one of Hayden and Shelly Fleming laughing out on a boat, the open water behind them. Hayden wore a wedding ring but there were no photos of a husband or family. In such a small community, where everyone knew each other, why did she find it necessary to keep her personal life so conspicuously absent from her office?
The video resumed, grabbing Lucy’s attention. It centered on Fleming, duct tape over his eyes and restraining his wrists, sitting on a toilet in a tiny bathroom—probably on the cabin cruiser, Lucy thought. It looked like that kind of tight space. The Pastor’s color was gray, his lips parched, speech strained. No obvious cuts or blood and his clothing didn’t appear damaged, but the camera was shaky and mainly focused on his face.
“They want a million dollars. Deliver it and my insulin tomorrow or they’ll let me—” His voice broke. “I’m going to die.”
And that was it. Except for the final frames when the person manning the cell phone went to stop the recording and swung the phone just enough that a mirror on the back of the bathroom door came into view. Along with Mateo’s face and upper body. His eyes were wide—Gant would probably assess him as “crazed,” but Lucy thought the kid looked scared and confused.
“This whole scenario doesn’t make sense,” Lucy argued.
“Of course it doesn’t. What would you expect from a teenaged perpetrator? Maybe it started out as a crime of opportunity that went wrong. Mateo knew he’d be the first person suspected—especially with your daughter coming any minute—so he made it look like the type of crime scene you’d only find on TV. Things just went too far, he lost control.”
Hayden paused. “I’m grateful to you. Your suggestion that we test all the blood was very helpful. We found a second blood type in addition to Pastor Fleming’s A positive.”
“Where?”
“B negative. Pretty rare. Same type as Mateo, according to his mother. And we found it exactly where you’d expect it if he did attack Fleming.”
“On the knife.” It was common for attackers wielding knives to cut themselves as their grip on the blade slipped.
“Not something a subject faking a crime scene would be likely to know or think to do. So far, that’s all they found. It’s a lot of blood to process and I told them to check every area, not just take a random sampling.” She grimaced. “I’m pretty much blowing my department’s budget on this one case, so there’d better be some answers.”
Lucy tried to imagine a scenario that would fit the evidence. “Staging that scene would have taken time. Mateo’s uncle said he was supposed to be at Fleming’s house at three, but that’s also when he said he’d meet Megan.”
“His family told us he left their house half past one. Even on his bike, he’d be at Fleming’s place well before two. Gives him plenty of time to grab the money, get interrupted by Fleming, stage the crime scene, and grab Fleming.” Hayden frowned. “Or maybe he needed Fleming to get the combination to the safe. Maybe Mateo was the one who called Fleming and asked him to come home early.”
Lucy still wasn’t buying it. “Okay, but if he’s vicious enough to torture Fleming, why not just kill him once he got what he wanted? Why take him? A hostage adds a ton of complications and slows him down.”
“A chance for more money? But that is a lot of risk. He could have just taken the money and run.”
“My point exactly.” Lucy paced to the doorway and looked across the bullpen to where Megan was comforting Mateo’s mother. She wondered about Mrs. Fleming. Who was comforting her? Why wasn’t she here? “How was the video sent?”
“Anonymous account. They texted Shelly with the link. Got so upset, we had to get her some valium. She’s at my house resting now.”
Lucy wished she’d been here to see Shelly’s reaction to the ransom video. This whole thing didn’t feel right. “Let’s look at it another way. What story did our actors want to tell with the scene?”
Hayden pursed her lips. “That the Pastor didn’t give up the money without a struggle. That he was hurt badly. That he might still be alive despite all the blood.”
She paused, then jerked her chin, her body straightening. “Kid doesn’t want to be labeled a killer. That’s why he’s willing to bargain for Robert’s life—he never really wanted to hurt anyone and the ransom is his way out.”
“I’m not sure. Still doesn’t feel right.”
“It does if it’s a sixteen-year-old kid raised on Criminal Minds and CSI.”
Megan joined them, pausing in the open doorway. Frowning at Lucy as if this was somehow all her fault. “Anna said there’s a ransom video. Can I see it?”
Hayden shook her head as she reached for her phone. “I’m calling for a warrant. Thanks, Lucy. Couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Mom, what did you do?” Megan’s voice was low but that didn’t mask her anger.
Lucy moved out to the bullpen, Megan following. “Nothing. I was trying to explain to Hayden why the evidence didn’t fit.”
“If the evidence doesn’t fit then why is she going after Mateo?”
“Because he’s the only one the evidence points to.”
“He’s innocent. A victim.” She stomped her foot. “You can’t arrest him. It’s wrong.”
Lucy reached to comfort Megan, but she moved away. “Calm down, Megan.”
“No. I won’t calm down. Mateo didn’t do anything. Someone has to fight for him, find out who did this.”
“That’s the job of the police. Not you.”
Megan’s eyes tightened. “Then you do it. What good is being a FBI Agent if you can’t protect the in
nocent?”
Lucy wanted so badly to promise everything would be all right, that she had some magical ability to make bad evidence disappear and find the truth. But she didn’t—she didn’t even have any official standing in the case.
Despite that, she knew she’d have to try. She looked up, met Megan’s gaze. “I can’t make any promises—”
“Of course you can’t,” Megan snapped before Lucy could finish. “You never can. I hate you. I hate your job. They’re going to hunt Mateo like a vicious criminal. What happens when they find him? He could get killed and it’s all your fault!”
She whirled and ran through the door to the lobby before Lucy could stop her.
Chapter 15
Lucy ran after Megan. When she caught up with her in the lobby, Lucy pulled her past Mateo’s family and outside to the parking lot where they could have some privacy. Last thing she wanted was to add to the Romeros’ worries with her own family drama.
“Megan Constance Callahan,” Lucy started. “You do not talk to me that way.” Her voice had an unwelcome quaver in it—she hated being angry with Megan, hated even more the betrayal Megan’s accusation carried.
Megan stood, flushed yet pale at the same time, like when she was a baby and had a fever. Lucy stepped forward, mouth open, ready to continue, when she realized she was looking Megan straight in the eye. When had her little girl grown as tall as she was?
She took another step, trembling. She was getting ready to do something she never did: make a promise she wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep. Lucy wrapped her arms around her baby. “It’ll be all right,” she whispered. “I promise.”
Megan’s entire body shook with all the emotions she could not contain. Lucy pulled her tighter to her. She wished with all her heart she could somehow squeeze hard enough to return Megan to a time of innocence, that she could protect her daughter from ever knowing the ugly truth of the real world. But that was just as impossible as never breaking a promise, no matter how hard you tried.
