“That’s putting it mildly. I don’t even think she cared about the affair so much as the idea that he might get found out. That her precious position in Santa Barbara society was in jeopardy. They did a spread in a local magazine—about her and Peter and the kids. You wanna know the headline? Santa Barbara’s Perfect Family.” Jonah scoffed.
Will saw it then, the pain in his eyes. Sparking like flint on steel.
“Can you believe Hannah tried to pay me off? She offered me fifty thousand dollars to stay away from Peter. God knows, on a cop’s salary I needed the money.”
“Why didn’t you take it?”
“Knowing what I know now, I probably should have. But Peter did the full sales job on me. He kept telling me what I wanted to hear. That he wanted to be with me, and he just had to find a way to make it happen. He begged me to be patient. When Hannah saw that her payoff didn’t work, she told Peter I’d gotten physical with her. That I’d grabbed her by the throat and told her to back off.”
“Did you?”
“Hell, no. Now ask me if I wanted to.” Jonah flipped the photograph face up again, folding it so that Hannah was completely covered. “I hate—hated—that bitch. Everyone thinks she’s so amazing. So charitable. She’s a controlling snake who refused to let Peter go.”
“He believed her then? About the assault?”
“She faked her own injuries. She had pictures and everything. It was only a matter of time before she tried to have me kicked off the force. I’ve been dreaming of being a cop since our house got broken into when I was five years old. No way I was letting her take that from me too.”
Will could relate to that. He remembered riding in the back of his dad’s squad car, smushed between Ben and Petey, begging their dad to use the siren. Even then, he’d known he would follow in Captain Henry Decker’s colossal footsteps.
“And that’s when I threatened to go public with what I knew. I told him it would destroy him—his career, his family, everything—and he knew it was true. Look what happened to that congressman.”
A laugh burst out of Graham’s closed lips. “The guy who sent the—”
“Bauer.” Confirmation that his partner had the maturity of a fifth grade boy. “Please continue, Mr. Montgomery.”
“Peter trusted me. We talked about growing up gay. How hard it was for him compared to me. Different generations, ya know. He admitted he’d had a few dalliances with younger guys. Underage guys. Before me, there was this one in particular he met online. After exchanging some racy pictures and hooking up a couple times, the kid told him he was only seventeen. Peter ended it right away. Except this one time, he was lonely, and he sent one more nude pic. He cried when he told me. His biggest fear was being found out, and I…”
Jonah slumped forward, hiding his eyes. His shoulders shook. “I used it against him.”
Showing the empathy of a gnat, Graham piped up again. “Why would you want to be with a perverted guy like that?”
Another poison glance from Will that he promptly ignored. “I’m just sayin’.”
“No, you’re right. I guess I fell hard. He’s a good-looking guy and a smooth talker. You’ve seen his website. He calls himself Sly Fox for a reason. Called, I mean… Jesus Christ, I can’t believe he’s really gone.”
“Did anyone else know about Peter’s secret?”
“Just that underage kid. But he’s not talking.”
Will frowned, uneasy.
“I looked him up after Peter told me. Marty Ricks. He offed himself a couple of years ago. You’re welcome to check into it yourself.”
“Guess we can rule him out,” Graham muttered. Will actually found himself wishing JB back. The sooner, the better.
“I can’t imagine Peter took it very well that you supposedly roughed up his wife. Or when you threatened to go public. A powerful guy like that could have done you a lot of damage.”
With a sad nod, Jonah continued. “He went ballistic. All of a sudden, it was the two of them against me. I think Peter even had me followed. I never intended to go through with it. I was just hurt and angry, but I still cared about Peter. Stupid me, I came here to convince him to leave with me. I was going to drive up to the Redwoods State Park and camp there for a few days. Maybe I was as naive as Peter said I was.”
Or as crazy as Hannah claimed. Will hoped he would know soon enough. “So, what happened the night of the Fourth?”
Jonah sighed like he’d been dreading this question all along. “I checked in to the Sand Dunes that afternoon and sent Peter a message asking him to come to the motel.”
“A text?” JB’s investigation had made it clear. Aside from Hannah’s, Peter had received no other texts that day. Will wondered if he’d finally tripped Jonah up.
“No. We used Snapchat because the messages disappear after a few seconds. He was always terrified of his wife finding out about us. At first, he refused to meet me. He said he needed to get his life together. That Hannah was close to forgiving him, and he couldn’t screw up again. But later, I guess he got drunk and Hannah got pissy about some fight he had on the beach and he changed his mind. All of a sudden he couldn’t wait to see me. He even told Hannah where he was going. Like he wanted her to suffer.”
“Then what? What went wrong?”
“When he came over, he was drunk. He just wanted sex. I poured my heart out, tried to give him this fancy watch I’d bought for him. Hell, I couldn’t even afford it. But it was the same old story, different day. I can’t leave my wife and kids. I can’t go public. If you tell anybody about me, I’ll destroy you. The usual. We got into an argument, and you know the rest. It’s all there on the security footage.”
“You threatened him with a gun. Your service weapon, I assume?”
“You’re welcome to run the ballistics.” Jonah cocked his head and Will caught a glimpse of his other self—the confident and brash officer who’d emblazoned a Superman logo on his police gear. “And he brandished a golf club.”
“You swung it at his car.” Chief Flack had already sent Jonah’s gun—a 9 mm Glock—to the lab for testing.
“His car. Not him. I just lost it. I needed to hit something.”
Will had felt the same urge, tugging on his boxing gloves. Anger had to go somewhere, or it would turn his heart bitter, like his father’s. He slid another photograph from the folder on his lap. “Ever seen this before?”
Jonah studied the image briefly before pushing it away. “It’s a horseshoe.” He pointed to the ruler beside it, where the branches measured one and a half inches from the toe. “Clearly not full size. A toy or a replica. And it’s not mine.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“No, I’ve never seen it before. It’s unusual though, this material. Looks like tourmaline. They sell this crap in some of the tourist shops in downtown Santa Barbara.”
“Tourmaline,” Will repeated. He’d scrawled the same on his notepad this morning, when Steve had called from the lab. Classified as a semi-precious stone, tourmaline was common to California and could be found in a variety of colors, including the iridescent green shade of the horseshoe. “Do you know where Peter went after he left?”
Jonah scoffed. “Home to her, I suspect. Where he always went.”
“And you?”
“I drove down to that tourist trap, the haunted lighthouse. Little Gull, I think it’s called. I got loaded in the parking lot and passed out drunk reading this letter I’d written for Peter. Woke up around 4:30 a.m. and drove back to the motel. I saw the news story a little while later and I panicked.”
“I assume there’s no one to verify your story.”
“Not unless those ghosts start talking. And before you start combing my cell phone data, I left it at the room. I figured he’d change his mind, come crawling back. I didn’t want to be tempted to answer.”
Will had heard worse alibis. Sometimes, a story could sound so bad it had the ring of truth. Still, he had to follow the breadcrumbs of evidence. He remembere
d what Chief Flack had told him. What the marshals had discovered in Jonah’s car, trapped between the seat and the console. “What about the lighter fluid?”
“The what?”
“The lighter fluid you purchased on your way to Fog Harbor. We found the receipt.”
Jonah swallowed hard. “Camping.”
“And where did those two bottles of lighter fluid go? I suppose they just walked off by themselves.”
For the first time in the interview, Jonah didn’t offer a quick reply. He picked up the photo again, looking at it with a mixture of anguish and regret. “I’d like to speak with an attorney.”
Twenty-Two
Olivia arrived at the station for Thomas’s second interview, parking near the door to avoid the reporters who lingered like vultures, eager to pick through the scraps of someone else’s trauma. As she walked toward them, they briefly raised their eyes, ready to swoop in. Determining her to be no one of consequence, they lost interest, quickly redirecting their attention—and their cameras—to the white SUV that pulled in behind her.
Olivia recognized the woman behind the steering wheel from Hannah’s social media accounts as Nora Goodwin, her only sister. Though she had five years and twenty pounds on Hannah, they shared the same auburn hair and delicate nose. Newly divorced and childless, Nora worked as a pharmacist in San Luis Obispo and took too many pictures of her bulldog, Bruiser, who she’d named after the dog in Legally Blonde. Amazing the details you could pluck online.
Nora exited the car, keeping her head down. Smart woman. After unbuckling Thomas from his car seat, she stepped aside, beckoning him. He shook his head with fervor. The reporters seemed to sense the brewing drama and turned to each other in frustration. Thomas’s name hadn’t been made public, so journalistic ethics dictated they maintain his anonymity. Otherwise, Olivia felt certain their cameras would be whirring, greedily capturing every moment.
Just then, Olivia’s cell buzzed with several incoming texts from Deck, and her stomach dropped.
Dr. Lucy has a stomach bug. She won’t be coming.
Chief Flack wants you to give it a go.
Thomas and his aunt just arrived.
Before Olivia could type a response, Deck strode out the station door, scanning the parking lot.
“White SUV,” she told him. Then, more shyly, “Hi.”
One corner of his mouth turned up slightly, and she couldn’t stop herself imagining kissing it.
“I assume you got my texts.”
She held up her phone, her response half typed.
“So you’ll do it?”
“I’ll try my best. But there’s one little problem.” Olivia gestured to the lot. Thomas still hadn’t budged. He’d latched his small arms around the headrest of the passenger seat, as Nora tried simultaneously to cajole him and to forcibly remove him from the car.
As they approached, Thomas’s fear became palpable in the clawing grasp of his fingers and his quiet sobs.
Deck gently tapped Nora’s shoulder, and she spun toward them, frazzled. Her eyes welled with her own bottomless grief. “You must be Hannah’s sister, Nora. I’m Detective Decker. I’m very sorry about the loss of your family. We’re doing everything we can to solve the case as quickly as possible. Hopefully, you and I can find some time to talk as well.”
Olivia extended her hand and introduced herself. “It looks like you need some help.”
Tears already spilling from her eyes, Nora nodded. “He was fine until we pulled into the parking lot.”
“Hi, Thomas. Remember me?” Olivia leaned her head down to see his face.
A small nod. But his grip on the headrest remained firm. Even the stuffed dog he cherished had been abandoned, falling to the floor at his feet.
“Dr. Lucy won’t be here today. It’s just you and me. Would you come inside?”
Another violent head shake, his shaggy red hair flying across his face.
From his pocket, Deck produced the army man. He held it out in his palm. “I think this soldier belongs to you.”
Thomas eyed it suspiciously for a moment, before he relinquished his grip on the seat and took it from Deck, marching it across his leg. “Ranger Rob,” he corrected.
“How about you and Ranger Rob talk to Dr. Rockwell out here? Is that better?”
Thomas sniffled.
“Is that okay with you?” Deck asked Nora, waving over a couple of patrol officers who had just gone off duty.
“I think it’s for the best. He’s terrified of this place.”
As the officers kept an eye on the media vultures circling at the periphery, Olivia touched Thomas’s shoulder. “Is that true, Thomas? You’re scared of the police station?”
He looked toward the front door with apprehension. As if a monster might break it down and come lumbering toward them. Then, he aimed his gun-toting army man. “Pow. Pow. Pow.”
“Who are you shooting?” Olivia asked.
“The bad man.” Thomas gestured back to the station, whispering, “That’s where he lives.”
Unsettled, Olivia followed his gaze past the reporters to the front doors. “And how do you know the bad man?”
“He hurt Mommy and Dylan and Lily. I saw him. He had a gun, like in the movies. I ran and hid.”
“Then what happened? Where did you go?”
“To hide in my secret fort on the beach. Dylan said it wasn’t really a fort because the lifeguard lived there. But the bad man couldn’t find me. Ranger Rob used his invisible shield so the bad man couldn’t see me.”
Olivia nodded, encouraging Thomas. “Do you think you could recognize the bad man if you saw him again?”
Thomas’s eyes widened; his little body stiffened, and Ranger Rob disappeared into his hand, his knuckles white. “I don’t want to see him again. Never ever.”
“What did he look like?”
In a voice so quiet, Olivia had to strain to hear it. “A policeman. The bad man is a policeman.”
Twenty-Three
While Olivia reassured Thomas, Will pulled Nora aside, all of them still reeling from Thomas’s revelation. Will, most of all. He regretted not pressing Jonah harder before he’d lawyered up. But Jonah would have nothing but time to think. He’d been booked on charges of brandishing a weapon. Maybe a night or two in the city jail would get him talking again.
“A policeman?” Nora shook her head, lowered the eyes that looked a lot like Hannah’s. “I don’t understand. Do you think my nephew is confused? He’s been through so much. He told me his mom and dad were arguing that night. They hadn’t been getting along.”
“It’s certainly possible Thomas is imagining things. But that wouldn’t explain his reaction on the night we found him. He took one look at my badge and all hell broke loose. And you saw how he acted today. He’s afraid of the station. I think we have to believe him until we know otherwise.”
Will had seen the terror in Thomas’s eyes that night in the lifeguard stand, had heard the tremble in his voice just now when he’d uttered the word “policeman.” No one would convince Will it was a product of the boy’s imagination.
Nora cast a concerned glance back to the vehicle, where Thomas sat with Olivia. “The medical examiner’s office called this morning. They want to release the…”
Will contemplated the difficulty in finishing that sentence. Her loss, immeasurable, indescribable, and yet she had to stay upright. Had to keep putting one foot in front of the other. She had to carry on for Thomas. “We’ll need you to stick around a bit longer. Where are you staying?”
“Everything was sold out. I had to pay double for an Airbnb in the middle of nowhere. For Thomas’s sake, I pray this part will be over soon. I want to get him as far from here as possible.”
“I totally understand. We’re in the process of developing a suspect. I’ll be able to put together a photo lineup soon, and we’ll have Thomas take a look.”
“It’s so much pressure for him. Poor kid. He’s already had it rough. Hannah was planning t
o enroll him in this fancy preschool—the number one ranked in Southern California—but his IQ score wasn’t quite up to par. She had him doing math workbooks right up until the time they left on vacation.”
Will recalled his own preschool days, certain he and his friends had been eating playdough and running with scissors. “I didn’t realize preschools had rankings.”
“If it didn’t have a ranking, Hannah wasn’t interested. She always was the achiever of the two of us. The prettiest, the skinniest, the richest. She already had Dylan slaving away in SAT prep and Lily taking private ballet lessons from a former prima ballerina. To her, everything was a competition. It’s no surprise she picked Peter, with his handsome face and his law degree and his fat pocketbook. A trophy husband, if I ever saw one.”
“So Peter had already left the public defender’s office by the time he met Hannah?”
Nora’s derisive laugh confirmed Will’s suspicion. “Hannah, with a public defender? That’d be the day. Peter was one of the top defense attorneys in Santa Barbara when they started dating. By the time they had Lily, he was fielding calls from all over the country.”
“How did they meet?” Will asked.
“Oh, that’s right. I guess you wouldn’t know. Hannah graduated from USC law school herself. She and Peter both applied for a teaching position at UC Santa Barbara. Hannah liked to joke that she won the job and Peter won her.”
“She was an attorney too?” Will sighed. The more he learned, the more unwieldy the case became. Even on four cups of coffee, he felt outmatched.
“Not practicing. She stopped teaching after she got pregnant with Dylan. But Peter would send her to interview potential clients. She always had the final say. She loved that.”
“Any enemies? Feuds? Disgruntled clients? We have reason to believe this crime was personal, carried out by someone who knew the family. Perhaps even knew they would be vacationing in Fog Harbor.”
“If Hannah had problems, she never shared them with me. She took great pains to make sure her life looked perfect from the outside. Lately, something seemed off. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but she seemed less chatty on our weekly calls. Then, about a month ago, I asked her if she was okay. If she was happy. With Peter, with the kids, with life in general. She just laughed it off. God knows, she’d never admit any weakness. But I wondered if things were starting to fall apart.”
One Child Alive: An absolutely gripping crime thriller packed with nail-biting suspense (Rockwell and Decker Book 3) Page 9
