Cold Feet

by Brenda Novak

  Madison’s pulse kicked up a notch. “Of what?” She finished making the sandwich, set it on a plate and put tea bags in two mugs of hot water. After carrying it all to the table, she pulled her chair close.

  “Of Tye. And Johnny.”

  Madison peered down the hall to make sure it was empty. “Why?”

  Sharon stared miserably at her food. “You know Tye’s always had problems—a…a temper. When he gets angry, he sometimes says or does things he doesn’t mean. It stems from what happened to him when he was a kid. I’ve tried to be understanding about that. But last week, he…he just went too far.”

  Madison wished she’d never taken those sleeping pills. She was feeling more alert than she had a few minutes earlier, but her senses still seemed slightly dull. “In what way?”

  Her sister-in-law took a bite of her sandwich. “The police came by several days ago,” she said when she’d swallowed. “I heard them at the door, talking to Tye.”

  “What did they want?”

  “To know if he’d seen Johnny.”

  Madison considered telling Sharon that Johnny was sleeping in Brianna’s bedroom, but she was afraid the news might make her sister-in-law hurry away before she had a chance to say what she’d come to say. And Madison was hoping she’d be able to help her. This was the first time Tye’s wife had ever reached out to her. “What did he tell them?”

  “That he hadn’t.” She put the sandwich down. “But he had, Madison. Johnny came by the house several times. He even stopped in the day he got out of jail.”

  Madison remembered her conversation with Tye that Saturday morning when she’d cooked for Caleb. I can’t believe Johnny’s out. When did they release him? He’d lied to her, too.

  “Why would Tye feel he needs to lie about whether or not he’s seen Johnny?” she asked.

  “I think it’s because Johnny had something to do with that woman who was murdered. What else could it be?”

  Madison twisted to glance down the hall again. “Johnny wouldn’t hurt anyone,” she said, lowering her voice. But she was remembering another conversation in which she’d told Caleb her father wouldn’t have killed himself unless he’d found that box and thought Tye had murdered those women. What if it had actually been Johnny?

  “You don’t understand,” Sharon said. “I heard them talking, just a few days after Johnny got out of prison. Tye was saying, ‘Why’d you do it, man? That’s stupid.’ And Johnny said that something inside him just snapped. When I came in the room, they exchanged a look and shut up, and later Tye wouldn’t tell me what they’d been talking about.” She twisted her long, sandy-colored hair into a knot and pulled it over one shoulder. “But I knew whatever they were talking about wasn’t good. Tye gave Johnny a pile of cash, told him to buy a car and get out of town.”

  Madison felt a shiver go down her spine. Johnny had been desperate for a mere twenty bucks when he first came to her place, which meant the money Tye had given him had already gone up his nose. Drugs made a person do crazy things. Could Sharon’s story be true? “Is that why you left Tye?” she asked.

  “No.” Sharon stared at her food. “After the police talked to Tye, they wanted to talk to me.”

  “What’d you tell them?”

  Sharon pressed her palms over her eyes before looking at Madison again. “Tye warned me to say I hadn’t seen Johnny, either. I told him I didn’t want to lie, that we could get into trouble doing that. And he grabbed my arm so hard, I thought he might break it. I’ve never seen such a fierce look on his face.” She started to cry. “I told him he was hurting me, and he said it was nothing to what he’d do if I didn’t tell the police exactly what he told me to say.”

  “So Tye’s covering for Johnny?” Madison said. Was that why he’d visited the crawl space of her mother’s house?

  “Of course,” Sharon continued after a sniffle. “I told the police what he forced me to say, but I wasn’t sticking around. Not if my husband was going to risk himself and our whole family to cover for a murderer. Tye wasn’t acting like himself. He was tense, angry. I was afraid he might hurt me or one of the kids.”

  “So you took them and disappeared.” Madison stood up to get some tissues. “What made you come here?”

  Sharon accepted the tissues and dabbed at her eyes. “I keep hearing television reports about that woman who was killed, wondering if I’m endangering someone else’s life by not coming forward with what I know.” She dug at her cuticles some more, even though they were already red and sore. “I don’t want to turn on Tye. But I don’t want to be responsible for—” Her voice caught and broke, and she buried her face in her hands.

  Madison tried to comfort her. But she couldn’t seem to do anything more than awkwardly pat her shoulder. She felt numb. “We have to go to the police,” she said, sick at the thought. Johnny had had such a bad childhood. And despite all her negative memories, she had a few good ones of him, too. When Perry Little across the street made fun of her because she wasn’t as developed as the other girls, Johnny had given him a fat lip. She remembered feeling quite vindicated when the other kids started teasing Perry because he couldn’t talk right. And there’d been that time when Tye was so angry with her for leaving the rabbit cage open, and Johnny had stepped in to defend her. Johnny rarely stood up to Tye. That day Tye had been so surprised he’d stared blankly at them both, then simply turned and left.

  It had to be the drugs, Madison decided. She knew Johnny had problems, but she also knew he wasn’t innately violent.

  “I can’t go to the police,” Sharon said. “What if…what if Tye does something to the children? I have to let him see the kids eventually. I’m afraid he might try to get back at me through them.”

  “The police will protect them,” Madison said, and hoped beyond hope that it was true.

  “You didn’t see the look on his face.”

  Madison wished she hadn’t taken those sleeping pills. They were making everything fuzzy again. “Don’t worry. I’ll turn him in myself.” She had to, before anyone else was hurt. “Just do me one favor.” She checked the hall a third time. Empty. “Write down the address where you’re staying and a number where I can get in touch with you if I need to.”

  Sharon hesitated, but in the end gave Madison the information.

  Madison let her sister-in-law out, and watched her disappear into the darkness, toward a car that was apparently parked around the corner. Then she walked as quietly as possible down the hall toward her bedroom. She had to get dressed so she could go to the police. She dared not call, not from here. Not with Johnny in the house. She wanted to get away from him while he was still sleeping soundly….

  Only she didn’t think he was sleeping anymore. When she reached his door, it was open, and she could no longer hear him snoring.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CALEB STOOD with Holly and Gibbons at Lance’s front door. After Susan’s car had been towed away around midnight, Gibbons had tried to get him and Holly to go home. It was late, past two o’clock. They probably should’ve listened. After what had happened with Madison earlier, Caleb wasn’t in the mood to be out. But Detective Thomas’s wife had just had a baby, so Gibbons would’ve been alone if they hadn’t stayed with him. And Susan’s car had been found so close to Lance’s house that Caleb was as eager to catch him off guard as Gibbons was. He was beginning to wonder if he’d overrated the guy’s intelligence.

  According to Gibbons, Lance now lived with a buddy from work. Caleb wasn’t particularly impressed by their small Renton neighborhood, but it seemed quiet enough. He’d seen a thousand streets exactly like this one, filled with inexpensive tract homes that alternated between four basic models. Most of the residences on Riley Way were well-maintained. But Lance and his roommate obviously didn’t possess the same domestic ambitions as their neighbors. The front window had been broken and was covered with tape and newspaper. The yard was overgrown. And what sounded like a very large dog jumped against a wobbly fence, barking wildly in th
e backyard.

  Caleb glanced at Gibbons when they received no response to their knock and banged again.

  When the door finally opened a crack, the wafflelike imprint on Lance’s face suggested they’d succeeded in surprising him. And the way he groaned as soon as he saw Gibbons left them in no doubt that he wasn’t happy about it. “Oh, man! Not you again. What are you doing here? I’ve already answered all your questions.”

  “We need to speak with you again, if you have a minute,” Gibbons said politely.

  “Now?” He squinted in the porch light, which he’d flipped on only moments before. His short dark hair was bleached at the ends and that, taken together with his fake tan and slouchy posture, made him look like a misplaced beach boy. He was young—maybe twenty-five. “You can’t go around waking people up in the middle of the night, you know,” he said, his voice petulant.

  “Who is it?” called another male voice from somewhere in the house.

  “Don’t worry, Ross, it’s for me.” The night was cold and he was wearing only a pair of jeans, but he stepped outside and closed the door behind him. “You know, I really don’t like how you guys keep poking around in my life. I haven’t done anything. I already told you that.”

  “You don’t call using my sister something?” Holly said, immediately going on the offensive. “You don’t call killing her something?”

  Gibbons held up one hand. “I’ll take care of this—”

  “Look, I had a fling, okay?” Lance interrupted, scowling at Holly. “Screwing around on the side might not be right, but it doesn’t make me a murderer!”

  “What’s the matter?” Holly retorted, leaning closer. “Did Susan find out about your fiancée and threaten to tell her about the two of you?”

  “Holly,” Caleb snapped, moving between them, “maybe you should wait in the car.”

  Holly lifted her chin and glared at him.

  “Not another word or that’s exactly where you’ll be,” he told her, using the weight of his gaze to get her to back off.

  After a moment, she clamped her mouth shut and folded her arms, but continued to glare at all of them.

  “I’m miserable, okay?” Lance said, changing his focus to Caleb and Gibbons. “I can’t eat. I have trouble sleeping. I miss my fiancée, and I hate the fact that Susan’s dead. But I’m telling you again, I never hurt her.”

  “Susan’s car was found only two streets from here, on Lassiter,” Gibbons said. “Any idea how it got there?”

  Lance seemed honestly surprised. “That’s not possible.”

  “Why not?” Gibbons asked.

  “I would’ve seen it. I drive down that street every day. Where’d it come from?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Caleb said.

  “I wish I could help you,” Lance replied. “But I don’t know anything about it. I only know I didn’t murder anyone.”

  “Then you probably wouldn’t mind providing us with a DNA sample,” Gibbons said.

  Lance looked a little fearful at that suggestion. “What does it involve?”

  The detective handed him his business card. “It’s not difficult and it only takes a minute. Call me in the morning. We’ll talk about it then.”

  Goose bumps rose on Lance’s arms as he stood in the chill wind, staring down at Gibbons’s card. “This is insane,” he said. “I liked Susan. I never would’ve hurt her.”

  “Like hell! If it wasn’t for you, she’d still be here,” Holly said, but Caleb dragged her away before Lance could respond.

  “Calm down,” he told her.

  “I’m telling you he’s the one,” she said. “He killed her because he didn’t want her to tell his fiancée.”

  “He has an alibi,” Gibbons pointed out.

  “His fiancée’s mother could be lying,” she retorted.

  “It’s not him,” Caleb said. Whoever murdered Susan had copied the strangler too well. And twelve years ago, Lance would’ve been only about thirteen.

  MADISON HOVERED in the hall, wondering what to do. She needed to get dressed. She knew she’d feel much more secure and mobile if she had clothes on. But she was afraid to go to her room. She didn’t want to pass Johnny’s door on the way, didn’t want to put herself in a place where she couldn’t easily get out of the house if he came after her.

  Except he wouldn’t come after her. Madison wasn’t even convinced that Sharon was right. If he’d killed Caleb’s sister-in-law, he’d probably killed all the other women, too. Only he couldn’t have. Johnny had been in jail when some of those women died—hadn’t he? Without double-checking, there was no way to know for sure. He’d always drifted in and out of her life, and she didn’t always know where he was. But he’d never tried to hurt her before, would have no reason to hurt her now.

  Unless he knew she was going to the police. But he couldn’t have heard her say anything about that. He’d been clear down the hall. She’d checked several times.

  The floor creaked as she inched closer.

  “Madison?”

  She froze, heart pounding so loudly she was afraid he could hear it. What now? Should she answer him?

  She didn’t want him to get up, so she said, “Yes?”

  “Who was that?”

  “A friend of mine,” she said, and cursed the false note in her own voice.

  There was a moment of silence. “What did she want?”

  Madison’s legs were feeling peculiar, weak. She clung to the door frame to keep from sinking to the ground. “Just to talk.”

  “This late?”

  “She couldn’t sleep.”

  Madison licked dry lips, preparing for a “why?” or “what friend?” But he didn’t say anything else.

  Gathering her nerve, she said, “Good night.”

  Again he didn’t respond. But he seemed to be going back to sleep, so she forced her legs to carry her to the bedroom as though nothing had changed. She’d get dressed and wait for a while, then she’d leave.

  Unfortunately, finding the right clothes and getting them on proved more of a challenge than she had anticipated. The adrenaline running through her body was making her hands shake, and the pills she’d taken were starting to compound the problem. “Come on, come on,” she whispered to herself.

  She managed to don a pair of jeans and a sweater. But only with great concentration did she tie her tennis shoes. When she was finally dressed, she sat on the floor, trying to calm down while watching her digital alarm clock flip from one glowing numeral to the next: 2:43…2:44…2:45….

  She made herself wait a full fifteen minutes. Then she shoved Sharon’s number in her back pocket, grabbed a lightweight jacket and hurried into the hall—only to run full-tilt into Johnny.

  MADISON TRIED TO DODGE Johnny and run. She couldn’t see him in the pitch-black hallway, but she’d certainly felt their collision and could hear his ragged breathing. He was close. Probably too close. But if she could only get around him…

  Bumping into the wall, she stumbled and nearly brushed past him. She had to get her keys, open the door, reach her car. But he clutched her by the shoulders before she could go anywhere, and yanked her back, surprising her with the strength of his grip.

  “Johnny, let me go,” she cried, twisting and pushing at him.

  “I can’t.” His fingers curved painfully into her flesh. “Not until you tell me what Sharon wanted.”

  He knew. He’d known all along that it was Sharon. He’d been baiting her.

  Madison tried not to panic. “Nothing. She didn’t want anything except to…to talk about her problems with Tye.” Again Madison attempted to wrench free, but the sleeping pills were making her light-headed. She felt dizzy, weak…terrified.

  “You expect me to believe that’s why you’re creeping around?” His grip tightened. “Where are you going?”

  “Nowhere. I—I couldn’t sleep and—”

  He gave her a little shake. “That’s bullshit. What did Sharon say?”

  “S
he’s worried about you, Johnny.”

  “Don’t lie to me! She’s never liked me. Is she running to the police? Is that what’s going on? Or is that what you’re doing?”

  “No, I—”

  “Tye told me some detectives came around, asking questions about the night that woman was murdered. Now that Dad’s gone, they’re looking at me. Isn’t that right? They think I had something to do with it.”

  Madison’s mind raced, searching for options. But she knew he’d never trust a denial. “Sharon knows the truth, Johnny. It’s over.”

  He went deathly still. “What truth? I didn’t kill anyone. You have to believe me, Maddy.”

  Tears stung Madison’s eyes. She wanted to believe him, but mere wanting didn’t count. “All I know is that we have to make sure nobody else gets hurt. You…you need help.”

  “But it wasn’t me! I swear I didn’t do it.” His voice sounded gravelly, torn.

  “Johnny—”

  “Maddy, listen to me.”

  She felt his grip weaken, knew she should take the opportunity to break away and dash for the door. But his denial and her memories of him from when she was a child were crowding close, confusing her.

  Unless you want another fat lip, don’t ever talk to my sister like that again….

  Tye, she’s just a kid. Leave her alone….

  Haven’t you ever seen a tadpole, Maddy? Want me to catch you one?

  “Maddy?” he said.

  Madison squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t let herself remember those things. Johnny was a killer, the killer. At least that was what Sharon thought. And in some ways it made sense. His childhood had warped him, scarred him, and somehow their father had realized the truth. That was why Ellis shot himself….

  “Dad thought it was you, too, didn’t he?” she asked, making no effort to restrain her tears.

  She felt his chest shudder against her and knew, despite the lack of light, that he was crying, too.

  “He wouldn’t believe me,” he said. “I tried to tell him I’d never seen the stuff in that box, that I had nothing to do with it. But he…he just looked at me. And his face—” He shuddered again. “You have no idea what it was like seeing him that way. I’d always known he was disappointed in me, but right then I knew I was worse than dead to him.”