“Don’t jump to defend him. He could be guilty.”
She knew that. “Or Carrie could have been killed by a stranger after stopping for a drink.” Rox had never worked homicide cases but she knew that scenario was unlikely. Sixty-two percent of all homicide victims were killed by someone they knew. “I contacted Kyle about the murder, so he may get back to me with more information.”
Marty blinked and rubbed his head. “I shouldn’t have had a second beer. I need to lay down for a minute.”
“As long as you’re in that mode, I might as well tell you. I put three grand on your credit card with Ridgeline.” Rox gave a sheepish grin.
His mouth dropped open. “For the deposit? That’s crazy.”
“I know. They wanted ten days up front. But we can always dispute the charge after we get the transport service information.”
“I notice you didn’t use your card.”
“I couldn’t.” Rox started to explain then realized he was teasing her. What was a good comeback? “Better you than me.”
Marty laughed. “I’ll just lay on your couch instead of going home—in case you need me to call Ridgeline about Josh and his mother’s death.” Marty shuffled into the living room and lay down. “Mind if I turn on the news?” He could only fall asleep with the TV on.
“Go ahead.” While Marty tuned into the early edition of the local news, Rox called Kyle. No answer. She left another message, then sat down in the armchair to watch the TV. The anchorwoman opened with a report about Carrie Lovejoy’s murder. She had even less information than they did.
“I’m surprised the media got hold of this one so quickly.” Marty didn’t sound sleepy now.
“I’m not. Our society has become all news, all day.”
“Shhh!” Her stepdad was on full alert.
Rox focused on the news anchor’s words: “A few hours before she was killed, the victim’s cell phone was stolen in a prayer service. Witnesses say the thief was likely a newcomer named Jolene McAdams. She’s described as very tall with shoulder-length light-brown hair. If you know Jolene McAdams, please call the number on the screen. The police would like to talk to her.”
Marty bolted upright and snapped his head to stare at Rox. “If that’s the name you used with your Ridgeline application, we’re screwed.”
Chapter 13
Friday, July 7, 9:25 a.m., Central Oregon wilderness
Josh kept climbing the rocky path, one foot in front of the other. Don’t stop. Don’t think. Just function. His feet were bruised and blistered, his throat ached from the red dust and lack of water, and his stomach heaved with a sickness he’d never felt before. It couldn’t be food poisoning. They didn’t give him any fresh produce or real protein. But he worried about bugs and worms. They were living like animals out here. None of the kids had showered or changed their clothes in over a week. The counselors rotated out every few days, and Josh suspected they hiked back to where they’d left a jeep, then made trips to the base camp to shower and pick up food and water.
What kind of sick fuck would take a job like this? They had to be well paid, unless they were sadistic… or masochistic… or both. A desire to kill his tormentor burned in every fiber of Josh’s body. Ace had singled him out and made his life hell. Other campers were allowed to carry water bottles and sometimes got beef jerky after a tough hiking day, but not him. Maybe Ace abused him as an example—to show the others how bad it could be for them if they got out of line.
Josh looked up the steep trail. Oh fuck. He’d fallen behind again. He pushed himself to pick up his pace, but he had nothing left. What would happen if he just stopped? Just sat down and didn’t move. Without making a conscious choice, he dropped to his knees.
Up ahead, Trevor called out, “Man down.”
Heavy footsteps pounded down the rocky trail. Ace was coming! Josh tried to push to his feet but felt dizzy.
“Get up, you maggot!”
A boot landed in his ribcage. Pain radiated through his chest, but he didn’t cry out. Not anymore. Get up, he told himself. He wanted to die, but he had a faster way in mind. A kick to his back blasted adrenaline through him, and Josh forced his weary legs to straighten. He visualized himself beating Ace to death with a heavy piece of wood, and that got him moving again. Maybe later, as they neared the top of the mountain, he would hike past a jump-off point. Death would be a sweet relief. For now he had to keep moving.
They stopped an hour later for lunch, and Levi, the other counselor, handed each camper a plastic sandwich bag with a handful of peanuts and dried apricots. Josh got his last, as always. “Please give me some water.”
Levi pulled a small bottle out of his own pack and handed it to him. “Make it last.”
Josh dropped to the ground, too tired to find a big rock to sit on like most of the others had done. He shoved some of the dried fruit into his mouth and forced himself to chew. His throat was so raw he worried about making it bleed. He feared choking to death too. The peanuts hurt going down, but they had protein and he was grateful. Today was the day. He would either kill himself or kill Ace. If he stabbed a counselor, they would have to take him to jail. In juvie lockup, he could sit down all day. They would feed him real food. And not hurt him. He probably deserved to be punished for what he’d done, but not like this. The way he’d treated that girl had been selfish and shameful, but not evil. He’d been loaded out of his mind. Maybe he would plead insanity and be sent to a clean, pleasant mental institution.
But that was all fantasy. He didn’t have the strength to assault the big man—even at his best. Now he was at his worst. The sun beat down on his back and sweat dripped from his face, but he was too weak and tired to even move into the shade.
“Move out!” Ace yelled. The bearded bastard started back down the mountain the way they’d come. Thank god. The campers struggled to their feet and shuffled to the narrow path.
An hour later, they branched off, taking a different route to the bottom. After a while, Josh heard the familiar sound of water rushing downstream over rocks. A creek! He longed to wade into the cool water and rinse off everywhere. And guzzle a gallon of it! That would be so delicious!
As they thundered down the steep hill, the sound grew louder, more like a river. His anticipation wavered. Rivers were deep, and he didn’t swim well. But Ace probably wouldn’t let anyone get in, especially if it seemed like fun to the other campers.
A few minutes later, they descended through a cluster of giant red boulders, and the water came into view. Twenty feet across and moving fast. Not a gentle swimming hole. Dread filled his belly. They were going to cross here and keep hiking.
“Josh, you’re first!” Ace grinned, his face more evil than usual. “You can show the others what not to do.”
Fear and hatred locked his legs and he couldn’t move. The other boys stepped aside as Ace came at him and grabbed his arm. “Get moving. It’s not as deep as it looks.”
“What about a safety line?” Josh cried out.
Ace laughed. “This is wilderness school. Do you see any ropes out here?” The jackass dragged him to the river’s edge, and Josh had no strength to resist. “Go!” Ace pushed him into the stream.
Josh stepped forward, and the pull of the water startled him. He shoved his arms out to catch his balance. How deep was it? Would the water surround him up to his chest? Trembling, he took another step, wider this time, and didn’t fall. The cold penetrated his jeans below his knees. As long as the water stayed below his waist, he could do this.
Behind him, the campers chanted, “Go, Josh, go!”
He took a few more steps, and the pull of the water circled his thighs. What if he lost his balance and got sucked downstream? He would drown, and that terrified him. He wanted to die, but not slowly in a freezing river. They might never find his body. He wanted his mother to see him dead. To see the scrapes and bruises and know what she’d done to him.
The other boys’ chanting grew louder and more insistent. Josh pushed forw
ard until the river reached his belly. Halfway there, he told himself. It would start to get shallower and easier again. He took another step, and the bottom gave away. The water swept him sideways and pulled him under. Josh fought to surface, but he kept tumbling. The freezing temperature sent him into shock, and he couldn’t even think straight. Still, he struggled to get his head out of the water. When he finally surfaced, he sucked in a huge breath.
When his eyes cleared, he spotted a downed tree jutting out into the stream. If he could just get over a few feet. Josh swam wildly, desperate to reach the log. The cold was unbearable. He frantically kicked his legs and his fingers caught a branch. He pulled hard and got his head and shoulders up onto the dead tree. Crawling along the wood, he heard cheering in the distance. He hadn’t drifted far. Josh didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
When he reached the muddy bank, all he could do was lie there, shaking. Disgust filled his belly, and he vomited into the red dirt. He was worthless. He couldn’t wade across a river without nearly drowning. And when he’d had a chance to escape through death, fear had taken over and he’d wasted it. Now he was too exhausted to even move away from his own vomit.
Time passed, and he faded in and out of consciousness, with no idea of how long he’d been there. Eventually, the hateful sound of Ace yelling made him open his eyes. “Get up! We’ve still got ten miles to go before we reach our new bed-and-breakfast.”
Josh pushed to his knees, hunger driving him. When they made camp, he would get to eat. If he made it to the day’s destination. Ending this misery was still his priority. He would be braver next time.
Soon he was on an uphill trail again, near the back of the group, putting one foot in front of the other. Don’t stop. Don’t think. Just function. Behind him, Trevor said, “You’re pretty tough, Josh. You just don’t know it.”
Josh didn’t feel tough. He felt hollow, except for the hatred. For Ace, for his mother, for himself.
Trevor was still talking. “Seth got washed downstream after three steps, and Levi had to rescue him. After that, they let the rest of us use a rope.”
None of that meant anything to him. But Trevor was trying to be nice. “I’m glad everyone is safe,” Josh finally said. Trevor passed him on the trail and slapped his shoulder. “We’ll make it through this.”
Later, as the climb steepened, Ace called out to the group, “Careful! If you break a leg, you still have to walk.”
Josh looked up the trail again. It rounded a curve with a tall rock formation. On the other side, the terrain dropped off. From here he couldn’t see how steep the slope was, but his heart surged anyway. Maybe if he ran and threw himself off the edge, he’d land hard enough to die. Or at least break a leg and get carried out. They wouldn’t really make him walk back with a broken leg, would they? They had to give a shit about being sued, didn’t they? He almost laughed. They’d nearly let two kids drown, so no, they weren’t worried.
He was closer to the curve now and couldn’t see anything to the right of the trail. That meant the terrain was steep. Or maybe not there at all. This was his chance, and he had to get it right. He couldn’t take another day of this, let alone three months. Josh slowed, creating some distance between him and Trevor. He didn’t want to hurt his only friend in this hellhole by slamming into him.
Seven more steps along the rocky path, then he would start to run. If he could muster the extra energy. The peak of the cliff was only thirty feet beyond that. Then he would be free of this pain and misery.
Three, two, one.
Josh charged forward, his legs feeling like stacked mush. Near the edge, he stumbled. But the momentum carried him forward even faster. A foot from the edge, he closed his eyes and leapt into space.
Chapter 14
Friday, July 7, 7:25 a.m., Portland
Rox skipped her dance workout, took a quick shower, and sucked down some coffee. Her task list felt overwhelming, especially now that she’d taken a second case. But first she felt compelled to check the inmate-search website for Isaac Lovejoy. He wasn’t answering his phone, so he was either still at the Police Bureau being questioned or he’d been booked into jail. She found him in the county facility, where he’d been processed at five that morning with a charge of possession of a Schedule II drug.
On the surface, that seemed odd, but Rox knew how the department worked. Kyle or Detective Crider—whoever was leading Carrie’s murder investigation—had decided to keep her client detained but didn’t have enough to prosecute him for murder. So they’d charged him with some minor bullshit thing. Maybe Lovejoy had drugs on him when he was arrested, or maybe the detectives had taken a blood sample and found intoxicants in his system. They might have even fabricated the charge. It happened sometimes when police officers needed leverage.
Rox scanned the fine-print details and discovered that her client’s bail had been set at half a million—a fifty-thousand-dollar bond. He would be locked up until they found a better suspect or the case went to trial. Unless Lovejoy could afford a powerful defense lawyer. She rather doubted it. But there was nothing she could do to help him. Except to find Josh.
Her next call was to Kyle, and he surprised her by picking up. “Hey, Rox. I’m glad you called.” He sounded chipper for someone who’d probably been working most of the night.
Damn. He probably hadn’t listened to her voicemail and thought she was calling to accept his dinner invitation. Feeling guilty, she searched for something nice to say. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot.” True, but not in the way he thought. “Did you get my message?”
“No, sorry. I was in the interrogation room most of the night. Are we going out soon?”
Just tell him no. Rox vacillated. If she played along, she would get more information. But that was deceptive. Still, if she hadn’t met a sexy new client the day before, she probably would say yes. She decided to aim for the middle ground. “You said just dinner, as friends. I’d like that.”
An awkward pause. “It’s a start. When? I’m busy for a few days with a new homicide, but Sunday night should work.”
She needed to pump him for details right now. “What about lunch today?”
He hesitated again. “Can you meet me near the department? I have witnesses to question this morning, but I hope to be back here by noon.”
“Where? Heavy Chevy’s?” It was a cop favorite.
“Great. See you at noon.”
Rox hung up and paced the room. She needed Kyle’s help, but she didn’t want to use him or make him feel used. Still, the date had been his idea. The complexity of her interactions with him surprised her. This was new, post-treatment territory, and she didn’t think she liked it. Bluntness was so much simpler.
She went to the kitchen for another cup of coffee and a breakfast bar, then sat down at her desk and looked over her task list again. She started with the easiest and checked Marty’s credit card statement online. After his heart-disease diagnosis, he’d given her access to all his accounts, plus a list of post-death instructions. But she wouldn’t think about those now. She scanned a short list of charges for the last week, surprised by how much he spent on golf. The Ridgeline payment hadn’t processed yet. Rox logged out, feeling as if she’d invaded Marty’s privacy.
Next on her list was calling the NBC reporters again. They hadn’t gotten back to her, no surprise, but she would try again before writing off that lead. No one answered, and she left another pleading message. The rest of her list focused on tracking down the back-end details of the business and its owners, who might be operating in three states. Carrie had said the company no longer operated in Utah because of regulations, but Rox checked the state’s database anyway—and didn’t find anything named Ridgeline. She googled the Nevada business registry and keyed Ridgeline Wilderness Health into its search bar. The website’s engine was slow, and Rox counted while she waited. At thirty-two seconds, she got a hit. The company’s page loaded and she scanned the details. An S-corporation with a Reno address that ha
d done business in the state for four years and listed its function as individual and family services. The program’s website claimed they’d been successfully transforming teenagers since 1994, so the move to Nevada had been recent. On a whim, she keyed Ridgeline into the search bar by itself and got a second hit on the Get Straight program, which was also listed as an S-corp. The separate listings made her wonder if a parent corporation owned both businesses.
She clicked back to the Wilderness Health page and scanned farther down, hoping to find ownership details. Rox spotted a name that made her catch her breath. Curtis Fletcher was the registered agent.
Rox slumped back against her chair, too surprised to think clearly for a moment. Carrie’s fiancé was, at the very least, connected to Ridgeline. He might even be an owner. Registered agents in business listings were sometimes a company’s legal counsel, but usually only for big corporations. Her brain finally kicked into gear. Fletcher’s connection to the program explained where Carrie had heard of it and how Josh ended up there. Fletcher may have even pushed for Josh to go. Lovejoy had suggested that his ex was moving in with her fiancé. Maybe Fletcher had insisted that she get her son straightened out before the move. A wild thought jumped into her head. Had Fletcher also murdered Carrie? What motive would he have? Just because the guy had given her the creeps didn’t make him a killer.
Rox bolted from her chair, ready to get moving. She needed to question Curtis Fletcher. But guilty or not, he was dealing with the death of his girlfriend and wouldn’t likely take her calls. This angle of the investigation seemed like a good fit for Marty. He could even tail the fiancé if that’s what was needed. Rox decided to walk over and chat with her stepdad. She hadn’t been to his side of the duplex in weeks, and she had only one other significant task: Pack for a trip into the wilderness, whether it was central Oregon or northern Nevada. If they learned any real information about the camp’s location, she wanted to get on the road ASAP. Or if they figured out where the transport vans were parked, she wanted to be ready to keep watch and tail one to the camp.
Broken Boys Page 8
