by R. D. Brady
“Can any of these so-called friends swear to that?” Gomez demanded.
“This one can and will,” Nevaeh said. “He was with me and four others, not including kids, until around ten.”
“Convenient,” Gomez said.
His partner shot him a look. “And can anyone verify you were here at six thirty the next morning?”
“I can.” Reggie aimed a smile at Gomez. “See? I am needed here.”
Gomez ignored Reggie and focused on Steve. “Where were you on August fifth and on October third?”
The smallest of winces crossed Sullivan’s face. Whatever this line of attack was about, Sullivan didn’t agree with it. “Probably the same answer. I haven’t left town in months. My days are pretty much the same. Work, family, that’s it.”
Reggie cleared his throat. “And friends.”
Steve gave him a small smile. “Yes, and friends.”
“We’re going to need documentation that you were in town on those dates,” Gomez said.
Nevaeh shook her head. “I’ll get statements for the date when Hodgkins was killed. But unless those other dates are related to the Hodgkins case, he doesn’t have to give you anything.”
Gomez glared. “Those cases might relate.”
Now it was Nevaeh’s turn to scoff. “Well, those cases aren’t criminal. And fishing season doesn’t start for another couple months. You’ll have to come back then.”
Sullivan closed his notebook. “All right, then. If you’ll get us that documentation, we’d appreciate it.”
Nevaeh stood. “I’ll email it to you as soon as I have it.”
Gomez slowly stood. “Twenty-four hours.”
Nevaeh raised an eyebrow, impressively slow. “Or what, Detective?”
Sullivan once again cut in. “It would just really help us if we could nail this down as quickly as possible. That way we can cross off your friend here as a suspect and move on to more viable candidates.”
Steve flicked a gaze at Gomez. The detective was staring hatred right back at him. Yeah, Gomez wasn’t going to rule Steve out anytime soon.
“I’ll escort you gentlemen out.” Nevaeh gestured to the door.
Steve stood as both detectives got to their feet. He didn’t offer his hand. He was pretty sure Gomez would take a swing at him if he even tried. Nevaeh headed out first, followed by Sullivan. Gomez followed behind him, but he stopped next to Steve. “I know who you are. You might have these guys fooled, but I know what type of person you are.”
Steve watched as the detective disappeared out the doorway and then sunk back into the chair. He’d thought this kind of harassment was behind him.
Reggie patted him on the shoulder as he took a seat in the chair next to him. “Don’t let it get you down, brother. Some cops just get it in their head, and for whatever reason, they can’t get that thought out.”
“You don’t understand, Reggie. It’s been like this for years. It’s why I changed my name.”
Reggie leaned forward to look him in the eye. “Are you trying to tell me, a black man living in America, that I don’t understand how police can unfairly harass an individual?”
Steve shook his head, a smile coming to his face. “Sorry. I feel a little bit like the spotlight’s only on me.”
“Oh, it’s on you, all right. But like Nevaeh said, those guys are fishing. You guys haven’t left town in months. They’re grasping at straws.”
“Yeah, but why? I mean, I get it. I have motive. But for that Gomez guy, I don’t know, it’s like he’s taking Hodgkins’s death personally.”
“Well, Nevaeh will chase them off. We’ll get a bunch of people to swear when they saw you, and then she’ll get those testimonies over to those detectives. That’ll be the end of it.”
Steve shook his head. “I hope you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right.”
“What did they mean, though, about a lot of other people having died? Who else died?”
“I don’t know. But Nevaeh will find out.” Reggie clapped him on the shoulder again as he stood. Steve tried not to wince. Reggie didn’t always know his own strength. “I’ll take the client appointment this afternoon. Why don’t you take the afternoon off?”
“No, we’ve got that big presentation next week. I’ll—”
“I’m pulling rank. You want to work on the presentation, fine. But do it somewhere else. Go clear your head.”
Steve wanted to argue, but he also really wanted to get outside. And he didn’t think he’d be much use in a meeting with customers this afternoon. “Okay, thanks.”
Reggie headed out of the office, and Steve could hear him speaking with Tanner. Steve didn’t follow. God, how was he going to tell Julie? This was going to devastate her.
He moved to the window to look out into the parking lot. The detectives were just getting into their car. But they didn’t pull out right away. Instead they stayed where they were, staring at the building. A sense of foreboding fell over Steve. The detectives weren’t going to let this go, no matter what kind of affidavit they read.
Instead of this being over quickly, Steve had a sinking feeling that this was all just beginning.
Chapter Sixteen
Anger rumbled through Gomez as he stared at the building. “That bastard. He’s lying. We should go in there and arrest him right now.”
Sullivan kept his hands on the wheel, staring at the building before he sighed. “He’s got witnesses that put him twelve hours away at the time of Hodgkins’s murder. He had an eight-hour window to get to Albany and back. And from what I can tell, the snow was worse here that night. There’s no way he made it out to Hodgkins and back in eight hours. It’s not possible. That chief, she doesn’t strike me as a pushover. She’s known Steve a lot longer than we have, and he hasn’t set off any warning bells with her.”
“Neither did his brother. He was the damn district attorney. No one had any idea what he was up to either.”
Sullivan acknowledged the point with a nod of his head. “But Jack Kane is the one who’s guilty of all those other murders. You know how unlikely it is for murderers to work with a partner. I checked into Steve Kane at prison. He was a model prisoner. He didn’t get into any trouble. And since he’s been out, he hasn’t even had so much as a speeding ticket.”
Gomez scoffed. “You know the best killers can be extremely careful.”
“He married Julie Granger. Why would she marry him if she thought he killed her sister?”
“Maybe she’s just as messed up as he is. Maybe they were in it together.”
“So now Steve Kane is working with both his brother and his wife? What about their little girl, is she in on it too?”
Gomez glared at his partner. “What the hell is wrong with you? How can you not see who that guy is? It’s plain as day. They’re lying. Or he had someone else do it.”
Sullivan shook his head slowly, with a look on his face that said he was trying to figure out a way to say something tactfully.
“Just spit it out,” Gomez snapped.
“I know how much you loved Amanda. She was an incredible girl. And I hate that you don’t have closure. But you know Jack Kane killed her. Going after his brother when there’s no proof that he had anything to do with it, and in fact, there’s more proof to indicate he was a victim—it’s just not right.”
The wave of grief hit Gomez out of nowhere. He turned away from Sullivan and stared out the window, taking deep breaths. His sister, Amanda, had been one of the victims of Jack Kane’s killing spree. She’d been missing for three days. Then out of the blue, her cell phone had turned back on. Gomez had been the one to track her down. Sullivan had been with him. Her body had been pinned to a picnic table at a public park. She’d been put on display. She hadn’t been killed there, but her body had been arranged there.
He hadn’t been able to sleep for months after he found her. Her image swam behind his eyelids every time he closed his eyes. She’d been the sweetest of girls. She was on
the autism spectrum. She trusted too easily. He should’ve taken better care of her. He should’ve looked out for her, even though she was twenty-two. Now it seemed laughable to think of twenty-two as mature.
For months, the investigation went nowhere. There were no witnesses, no clues, no evidence, no anything. And then all hell broke loose in Millners Kill. When Jack Kane was arrested, a box of trinkets was found in his cabin. Inside the box was Amanda’s bracelet. Gomez had given it to her for her sixteenth birthday, and she’d never taken it off.
But Jack never admitted to killing her. He admitted to enough murders to get the death option taken off the table. But he was suspected in at least a dozen more. But like most serial killers, he wasn’t willing to give the victims’ families closure. He was going to take that information to his grave.
“It’s him,” Gomez said. “He killed Hodgkins, just like he killed the defense attorney, jury foreman, and all those others.”
Sullivan just put the car into drive and slowly backed out of the spot. “Look, if there’s even a shred of evidence to tie him to any of those murders, I’ll be the first one back up here. But right now, we have nothing.”
Gomez didn’t say anything. He just looked out the window again. Jack Kane was still alive and behind bars while his sister was dead. And his brother was now getting away with murder and living his life happily with his wife and child.
But Gomez knew murderers could slip into a normal family life. The BTK Strangler had been a leader of a Boy Scout troop, a husband, a father, and even the president of a church council, for God’s sake. He’d killed ten people between the years of 1974 and 1991. He’d even killed children. He had a wife, a son, and a daughter, none of whom had any clue who he really was. So Steve Kane’s family wasn’t proof of anything except how good Steve was at hiding his true self.
But he would slip up, and Gomez would be the one who would put the cuffs on him and lock the cell door so he never saw sunlight again.
Or better yet, I’ll be the one who shovels the dirt over him.
Chapter Seventeen
Steve paced the living room. He hadn’t been able to focus after the detectives left. Reggie had been right to tell him to take the rest of the day off. But Steve had intended on working from home. He’d arranged the paperwork he’d brought from the office on the kitchen table, but he’d simply stared at the orders, not really seeing them. So he’d called Declan to see if he could get any more information about those other deaths the detective had alluded to.
He knew he had to tell Julie what was going on, but he dreaded it. Julie was still angry that the man had accused him, and Steve wasn’t sure how she’d react when he told her that the detectives had questioned him already. But as much as he wanted to keep it from her, he knew he couldn’t.
He stood up and walked over to the fridge. Opening the door, he stared at the contents inside. He didn’t really want to eat, but he hadn’t had lunch, so he probably should. He grabbed a Greek yogurt and ate without really tasting it, thoughts churning away inside his head.
He still wasn’t sure how he felt about Keith’s death. Keith had been the one who had made sure that he got put away for Simone’s murder. He’d been completely blind to seeing anyone else as the suspect. Part of Steve knew he couldn’t entirely blame Keith. Jack had done such a good job of making sure that it looked like Steve had killed Simone, but anyone else would have been suspicious that evidence had just magically appeared so late in the investigation.
And when Steve first returned to Millners Kill, Keith had gone out of his way to make sure that Steve was targeted and labeled a killer. He wanted people to know what he’d gone away for. And it wasn’t some altruistic move to protect the public. Keith had always been a bully. Getting a badge had only made that worse.
At the same time, he knew he should feel some sort of sympathy for the man. He’d died alone in an alley, after all. But he couldn’t forget the image of Keith bursting into his grandmother’s kitchen and gleefully stomping on his face. He hadn’t been a cop then. He hadn’t been some sort of warrior of justice. He’d been the guy who literally kicked someone when they were down. That was the type of guy Keith Hodgkins was. And God forgive him, Steve just couldn’t work up the energy to feel compassion that he was no longer in this world.
Declan’s SUV pulled into the driveway, pulling Steve from his thoughts. He placed the yogurt container on the counter and hurried to the front door. He was pulling the door wide as Declan crested the porch steps.
Declan didn’t smile when he met Steve’s gaze. Steve’s stomach dropped.
This is not going to be good. Without a word, he stepped back to allow Declan to enter. Closing the door behind the two of them, he looked at Declan, who was shrugging off his coat. “That bad?”
Declan hung the coat on a rack by the door and toed off his boots. “It’s not … great.”
“Come on into the kitchen. I’ll get us something hot to drink.”
Neither of the men wanted any caffeine. They were both strung out enough. So Steve made them both hot cocoa loaded with marshmallows. He’d grown fond of it because Bess loved the stuff.
Declan raised an eyebrow at the marshmallows on top as Steve pushed it in front of him. Declan was still a health freak. He’d even run an ultra-marathon last year. Marshmallows were definitely not part of his regular diet.
Steve shrugged, taking the seat across from him with his own mug. “Bess likes marshmallows.”
A small smile spread across Declan’s face as he twirled the spoon in the hot cocoa before he took a sip. He scooped up a hot-cocoa-infused marshmallow and popped it into his mouth. He smiled. “She’s right, it’s good.”
The two of them sat quietly sipping their cocoa and twirling the marshmallows before Steve couldn’t take it anymore. “What did you find out?”
Declan pulled a small notebook from the inner pocket of his fleece. “Keith was killed in an alley, like the detective said. He was alone, it was late at night. Apparently him and Marlene separated a few months back. He moved in with his mother in Albany. He’s been a regular at this bar called the Halfway Saloon, so his route from the bar home was very well known.”
“Do they have any suspects to question? I mean, other than me?”
“It was two in the morning. There wasn’t anyone about. The alley cuts between two other pretty busy streets but not at that time of the morning. And it’s a long alley. You wouldn’t see anything from the street unless you were really looking.”
“Keith really said I was the one who killed him?”
“He did. I managed to listen to the 9-1-1 tape. He identifies you by name.”
Steve ran a hand through his hair, his eyes roaming over the kitchen but not really looking at anything. He was back in Millners Kill after he’d been released. Keith had hounded him, making sure he never had a chance to assimilate back into the world. And now with his death, he was doing the same thing. “But why? I mean, I’ve been here. I haven’t left Dover in months.”
“I know. I don’t know what Keith saw that night. But his blood-alcohol level was at 1.8. He was drunk. It was dark. And you’re his bogeyman.” Declan paused, and Steve had a feeling he was about to say something before he turned his attention back to his drink and took another sip.
“What is it?”
“Keith Hodgkins has become a little obsessed with you.”
“Obsessed? What, like fangirl obsessed? I mean I saw the website.”
Declan shook his head. “It’s more than that. I went through his website in more detail. He tried to make the case that you were responsible for Simone’s murder and then all the other ones in Millners Kill. He’s even tried to tie you to some other murders and some other deaths.”
Steve’s mouth dropped open. He’d had no idea. He hadn’t looked at Keith’s website after that quick glance on Declan’s phone. He didn’t even want to know what the man had said about him. It didn’t matter what he’d said about Steve Kane. Steve Kane didn�
�t exist anymore. “That’s crazy.”
“Most people would agree, but now that he’s dead and he’s identified you, crazy becomes at least partially possible.”
“What other deaths?”
Declan took a sip of cocoa before answering. “There have been a few deaths connected to you. But they’re nothing to worry about.”
Steve stared at his friend and knew he wasn’t going to tell him more. But ignorance wasn’t an option. He pulled over his laptop and quickly ran a search for Keith’s website.
It was actually a little difficult to find Keith’s website. A search for Steve Kane showed a slew of newspaper articles and blogs, all beating Steve’s guilt or innocence. It wasn’t until the third page of results that he found the website titled the Kane Killers.
The header was modeled after an old horror film with the letters dripping down the screen. His mug shot from when he’d been arrested in Millners Kill after he’d been released was front and center. Apparently Keith didn’t want to use the mug shot of a scared sixteen-year-old boy.
On the right-hand side of the website was a body count. Murders attributed to Steve Kane: 16.
Steve’s mouth dropped open. “Sixteen? He thinks I’ve killed sixteen people?”
Declan reached for the laptop. “You really don’t need to look at that. It’s complete garbage.”
“Just give me a minute.”
He scanned the lines of names of murder victims. He didn’t know them. He’d never heard of them. But then toward the bottom of the list, where the more recent murders were, he recognized more than a few names. “Mr. Hadley’s dead?”
Declan nodded. “Heart attack. He had Alzheimer’s and was in a facility. There is nothing suspicious about his death.”
Steve pictured the criminal defense attorney that had stood next to him at the first trial. At the time, he’d looked ancient to Steve’s young eyes. “How old was he?”
“Seventy-eight.”
“And somebody thinks I somehow gave him a heart attack? Doesn’t natural causes seem more likely?”
