“All right.” Mrs. Hamilton provided her address. “My husband and I will be here.”
“See you then.” Ellie sent Grant a text, letting him know about the meeting. Distracted, she paced the foyer until the dog ran to the front door. Not wanting barking to wake the baby, Ellie led the dog back to Hannah. The baby was sleeping in her seat in the corner.
“Thanks,” mouthed Hannah.
Ellie ran out to the car as Mac went into the house. One look at Grant’s face told her something was wrong. She closed the car door. “What happened?”
“Mac and I found where Donnie’s been staying.” His knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
“How did you find him when the police don’t know where he is?”
Grant’s answer was too slow, as if he were carefully choosing his words. “Mac knows people on the other side of the law.”
“Really?” She wouldn’t have guessed the shaggy biologist had a dark past.
“Unfortunately, he went through a rebellious stage in his youth.”
“We all have some bad decisions behind us. What’s important is that he came through it.” As she spoke the words, Ellie realized how much they applied to her as well as Mac. Nan was right. It was time she forgave herself for one stupid mistake in high school.
“I know, but it wasn’t easy to see the evidence of how far Mac really fell. I was away. I had no idea.” He frowned. “I think that bothers me more than what actually happened. I left Lee to handle everything back home. I never considered the amount of responsibility he shouldered.”
“Did he ever say anything to you?”
“No.”
“You were at war, Grant. He probably thought you had enough on your plate.”
“Did you know they were having financial difficulties?” he asked.
“Neither of them said anything outright, but I knew Kate was sweating the mortgage and the BMW lease payments. They couldn’t afford to fix the house up the way I was working on mine. But then, my house is smaller, the price was lower, and I had a substantial down payment from the last house I flipped.”
“I don’t understand why they bought a house they couldn’t afford. Sure, their previous place was small. Two kids would have been a tight fit, but wouldn’t that be better than being in debt?”
Ellie squeezed his hand. “Lee wanted that partnership. He’d put seven years into that firm, and the senior Mr. Peyton, Roger’s father, told Lee if he wanted to be a partner, he’d better look the part.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Old Mr. Peyton is superficial. He wouldn’t give the partnership to anyone who didn’t look successful,” Ellie said. “But I’m not sure why Lee took the case, considering the partnership was so pivotal for his career. Before Peyton hired Frank, Lee didn’t really have any competition. He thought the partnership was a sure thing. But with Frank vying for the same position, taking the Hamilton case was a risky decision.”
“So Lee worked his ass off, and Peyton screwed him by hiring a competitor.”
“Unfortunately, that sums it up. He probably thought he’d get more out of Lee if he kept him on edge.”
“Maybe Lee thought taking the case was the right thing to do. He had this optimistic streak. He always thought things would work out. Usually, he was right, but this time I guess he wasn’t.” Grant was quiet for the next few minutes.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” she said.
He nodded. “Are you sure you want to know?”
“Yes.” Apprehension bubbled into her chest, but she didn’t want to be sheltered from any truth that could affect her family’s safety.
“Looks like Donnie killed his girlfriend. He put her on ice in her trailer bathtub.”
She recoiled. “I don’t know why I’m shocked. He already killed Lee and Kate.” But another murder drove home the danger to her family. “Did you call the police?”
“I did. Don’t worry. I used a pay phone and didn’t leave my name.” Grant’s posture was stiff. He steered the car with one hand. The other rested on his thigh, clenching and loosening repeatedly. He was acting stoic, but finding that woman’s body had disturbed him.
“I wasn’t worried.” She reached over and grabbed his hand. He curled his fingers tightly around hers, and a small amount of tension eased from his muscles.
Ellie directed him through a few turns. The Hamiltons lived in a development of big houses on large lots. A meadow and forest edged the rear of the property.
“Lindsay hanged herself in those woods behind the house, right?” Grant steered the car up a long driveway.
“Yes.” Ellie placed a hand on the tension building in her stomach. The thought of living so close to the place where a child took her own life sent a wave of nausea into her throat. “How can they live here?”
He parked in front of the porch steps. “Maybe they don’t want to let go.”
Mrs. Hamilton let them in. Thin to the point of gaunt, she wore wrinkled silk slacks and a light sweater that bagged on her frame as if she’d lost the weight recently and hadn’t bothered to buy new clothes. Her face and lips were colorless. A half inch from her part, a stark line of gray bisected her bobbed hair. The house was as elegant and unkempt as its mistress. Dust coated the expensive furniture, and dirt marred the red oak floors.
Ellie introduced Grant.
Mrs. Hamilton showed them into a study at the rear of the house.
A man sat on the sofa, his gaze fixed vaguely on the view of the woods through a set of French doors. He didn’t wait for an introduction. “I go out there every day and sit under that tree. You probably think that’s sick.”
“No, sir. Everything about this situation is wrong. I imagine you can’t take it in.” Grant took the wing chair diagonal to Mr. Hamilton. “I’m Lee’s brother, Major Grant Barrett.”
“Your brother was a good man.” Mr. Hamilton returned his gaze to the glass. “He wanted to help us.”
Ellie sensed a connection of grief between the two men and let Grant take the lead. She settled in a chair across from Grant. Mrs. Hamilton sat on the sofa but not immediately next to her husband. She left the middle section empty. The distance between them seemed larger than a couch cushion.
Grant leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. His jacket stretched until Ellie could see the weapon at his hip. He carried it so naturally, she’d nearly forgotten about it. “Did he give any indication of how he was going to do that?”
“No. We were so pleased he’d agreed to take our case. No one else seemed to care, but he did. I’m sorry he died.” Mr. Hamilton turned back to the woods, his gaze clouded with pain. “Do you really think his murder could be related to my daughter’s case?”
“We’re not sure,” Grant said in a raw voice. “But I’m sure you understand why I have to find out.”
“I do.” Mr. Hamilton shuddered. He took off his glasses and cleaned them with the hem of his sweater. “The first time she asked to quit the skating team, we should have known. She loved skating. That would have been the last thing she willingly gave up. We should have pulled her out of that school. We should have taken her back to San Francisco. She was so unhappy here. It broke my heart.” His voice cracked.
“I didn’t want her to let those bullies win. I was afraid if she gave up and ran away, it would damage her forever,” Mrs. Hamilton said quietly.
“No worries about that now, right?” Her husband’s voice cut like a blade. “She didn’t care about any of that. She just wanted to get away from a bunch of nasty, spoiled bitches getting a real charge out of making her miserable.”
His wife turned away from him without comment. Mrs. Hamilton drew her legs onto the sofa and curled them under her. “Everyone else in town, including the police, was more focused on Lindsay’s emotional problems. We kept telling them she didn’t have an
y emotional problems until we moved here, but it didn’t seem to matter.”
“I don’t understand. That seems simple to me,” Grant said.
“She’d been treated by a psychiatrist and was taking medication for ADHD in California. So even though her emotional issues were new, she had a past history of being treated by a psychiatrist. Then her new doctor here prescribed an antidepressant. We didn’t tell anyone. She asked us not to.” Mrs. Hamilton sighed. “She seemed to be feeling a little better.”
Mr. Hamilton stirred. The set of his mouth disagreed with his wife. “I didn’t want her to take them. One of the warnings on the label said that the drug could cause an increase in suicidal thoughts. How the hell can they make an antidepressant that causes suicidal thoughts? The doctor gave us a list of signs to watch for. It seems we missed them.”
Mrs. Hamilton shifted. “That’s the real reason no one will take the case. They said we held back critical information that could have changed the way the school and the arena management dealt with the situation.” Mrs. Hamilton interlaced her fingers and clenched her hands until her nails turned white. “And that the medication, along with our misreading Lindsay’s moods, could have been determining factors in her suicide. They also suggested she had an undiagnosed mental illness before moving here.”
Actually, the arguments sounded reasonable to Ellie, but she didn’t say it. The Hamiltons were suffocating in guilt and blame. They didn’t want to believe they were partially responsible for their daughter’s death. That she could understand.
“You don’t think that’s possible?” Grant asked gently.
Mrs. Hamilton twisted her hands. “She always seemed happy before we moved.”
“She was happy,” her husband snapped. “We should have moved back, but you made her feel inadequate for wanting to give in to those bullies.”
Mrs. Hamilton recoiled as if he’d slapped her.
Her husband rose. “I’m sorry.” He bolted through the French doors, crossed the back porch, and descended the wooden steps to the ground. He strode into the meadow toward the woods. His anger left an electric-like charge in the room.
Mrs. Hamilton watched him go with a dead eye. Then she turned to Grant. “Your brother seemed particularly interested in copies of the threatening text messages Lindsay received, but I don’t know why. The messages came from a burner phone, and the police couldn’t prove who sent the calls. The phone never turned up. I’ve no doubt it was destroyed. Lindsay had received photos and video as well, but her phone was wiped out with a cell phone virus attached to one of the messages. Even the police experts weren’t able to recover them. I didn’t even know there was such a thing as a cell phone virus.” Mrs. Hamilton paused and picked at her fingernails. “We were supposed to meet with your brother again the Monday following his death.”
Grant’s torso tilted forward. “Do you have copies of the texts?” When Mrs. Hamilton nodded, he asked. “Would you mind letting me read them? I promise to bring them back.”
“I guess it doesn’t matter now. It’s not an open case. I’ll make you a copy.” Mrs. Hamilton rose and left the room. She returned in a few minutes with a sheaf of papers in her hand. “I don’t know why you’re doing this, but thank you. Since your brother died, we haven’t been able to find another lawyer who will take the case.” She paused. “That’s not entirely true. We’ve actually had dozens of attorneys calling and knocking on the door, but none have been of the same caliber as Lee. We didn’t want to damage our case by hiring someone disreputable. We wanted to be taken seriously.”
“I won’t share these with anyone, and if I discover anything, I’ll let you know.” Grant stood. “Thank you for your time.”
Mrs. Hamilton showed them to the door, and they returned to the car.
“What do you think?” Ellie fastened her seat belt.
“They blame each other and themselves. He wanted to move back. She didn’t want to give up. So he feels guilty for not fighting for his daughter, and she feels guilty for her decisions.”
“It’s a toxic environment. I wonder how their marriage fared before Lindsay’s death.”
“Who knows?” Grant turned the car around. “Having your child commit suicide could break anyone, but then again, the fact that they couldn’t really come to an agreement over their daughter’s predicament tells me they likely had problems before it happened.”
Ellie’s purse buzzed. She fished her phone out of the side pocket. Her nerves quivered. “I don’t know that number.”
“Is it the same number he used to threaten you before?”
“No.” Ellie pressed the message bubble.
“He’s probably using a burner phone once and destroying it. That’s what I would do.”
She read the message aloud. “I didn’t tell you to talk to the Hamiltons.”
Grant’s gaze swept their surroundings. “I don’t see how anyone could know we were here.”
Ellie glanced behind them. “Unless he was watching the Hamilton’s house from the woods.”
“How would he know to do that?” At the end of the driveway, Grant stopped the car and got out.
“What?” Ellie followed him.
“How did he know where we were?” Grant circled the vehicle. “Do you have a flashlight in the glove box?”
“Yes.” Ellie got it for him.
She rubbed her biceps against the breeze as he circled her car, running his hands under the bumper and fenders. He dropped to the ground and shone the light across the vehicle’s undercarriage.
“Damn it.” He pulled off a two-inch black box that had been duct-taped to the undercarriage of her minivan.
“What is it?”
“Looks like a GPS tracker.”
“Oh my God.” Ellie’s jaw dropped. She put a hand over her mouth. “He can track my movements with that?”
“Yes.”
“Will he know you took it off the car?”
“No, as long as it’s still transmitting, he’ll just assume your van is where the unit is located.” Grant got to his feet. “I know I promised I wouldn’t tell McNamara, but I think we should call him.”
“He said he’d hurt my family if I did that.” Fear gathered in Ellie’s throat.
Grant held up the device. “But we’re no closer to delivering that file.”
Tears burned at the corners of Ellie’s eyes. What should she do? Grant was right. His thirty-six-hour promise had expired, but he was asking, not forcing her to change her mind. She couldn’t deliver what Hoodie Man wanted. But going against his instructions and involving the police felt dangerous.
“Look, I can’t stand sitting back and letting this all play out without taking action. How about we go back to Lee’s, we’ll read through these texts, and we’ll make a plan?”
Ellie’s phone buzzed again. “He sent another message.”
Get that file by tomorrow or your family is dead.
Chapter Thirty-One
Grant looked up from the page of text messages on the desk. “These are really nasty.”
“They are.” Sitting across from him, Ellie had her own stack of papers attached to a clipboard. “What kind of kid tells another to kill herself?”
“I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter how nasty the messages were if no one can prove who sent them.”
Ellie rubbed the back of her neck. “I don’t know what to do. He’s going to message me tomorrow. We don’t have the file.”
“We have two options. We could call the police. Or we could make our own file. He has no way of knowing it isn’t the real file.”
“I never thought of that.” Ellie shifted backward, her skeleton straightening as the small hope he’d just presented gave her strength.
“I’m still thinking, but I think I can do even better than that.” A couple of ideas were rolling around in his head. The th
ought of taking this campaign on the offense sent a bolt of energy through him. His desire to personally take care of Lee’s killer was the real reason he hadn’t insisted Ellie call the police. “Have you found any clues in those texts?”
“No.” Ellie set the clipboard on the desk, stood, and stretched. “I have to run home for some clothes, and Julia needs clothes for skating practice tonight.”
Grant went hard as his mind played a reel of their last visit to her house. They shouldn’t do that again. Ellie didn’t deserve to be hurt, but the solace he found with her was difficult to resist.
“I’m coming with you.” Grant stood and picked up the baby monitor on the desk. “I’ll let Hannah know.”
“I’ll tell Julia and Nan and see if there’s anything else either of them needs from our house.” Ellie left the office and headed upstairs, where Julia was finishing her homework before skating practice. Worn out from another night of little sleep and an outdoor play session with Grant and the dog, Carson was out cold.
Hannah was in the kitchen working on her laptop. Grant poked his head through the doorway. Piles of papers were spread out on the table in front of her. The baby was sleeping in the corner.
“Maybe the kids are actually vampires who don’t like daylight,” he said.
Hannah sighed. “That would explain a lot.”
“Work or estate stuff?” he asked.
She lifted her head. “Yes.”
“Where’s Mac?”
“He went upstairs. Said he’d get some sleep now and take the first baby-walking-night-watchman shift.”
“Good.” Grant nodded toward the baby. Her screaming fits had been spaced further apart the last two nights. He prayed the colic was easing. “Want to risk putting her in her crib upstairs?”
“Hell, no.” Hannah grimaced. “Haven’t you heard? Never wake a sleeping baby.”
“I’m running next door with Ellie for a few minutes. She needs some things.” He set the baby monitor on the corner of the desk. Since the baby wouldn’t sleep in her crib at night, Grant had put the baby monitor base in Carson’s room. The house was so big, he couldn’t hear the boy from downstairs. “Can you listen for Carson?”
Hour of Need (Scarlet Falls) Page 25
