Deadly Diaries

by C. E. Waterman

  “Who was the intended target?”

  She blinked. “I assumed it was Cameron, but now, I’m not so sure.”

  “When Allie comes out, wait for me, and I’ll take you back to your car. I’ll arrange for an officer to guard your house until we make an arrest.”

  He waited, stubborn chin braced for an argument, but truth be told, Maggie was relieved. How in the world could she hope to keep Allie safe?

  When she nodded, Greg strode through the automatic doors and down the hall, his phone already at his ear.

  Soon Allie appeared in a wheelchair, handled by a young orderly named Bill. Her face was white, as though all the strength had seeped out of her.

  Maggie popped up. “Honey, are you OK? We’re waiting here for Greg. He shouldn’t be long.”

  Bill wheeled her next to Maggie’s chair and bent forward. “OK, miss, let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll help you out.”

  They sat in silence for about twenty minutes before the motion sensor doors slid open, and Greg appeared with a uniformed officer. “Maggie, you remember Bert?”

  Maggie smiled. “Good to see you, Officer Daniels. This is my sister, Allie.”

  They smiled at each other, but even though he was a handsome man, no flirtation lurked in her smile. She must be tired.

  “Bert and his partner will pick up your car, and he’ll meet us at your place.”

  Relief washed over Maggie as she handed Daniels her keys. She wanted to get home and stay there, the quicker the better. Greg scooped Allie up in his arms, but this time Maggie didn’t mind. She had no idea how she would have gotten her home otherwise.

  It seemed much later than three o’clock when they arrived at her house. She and Allie waited in the truck while Greg checked inside. He then carried Allie inside, lowered her to the couch, and took their statements while he waited for Officer Daniels.

  Allie swallowed her pills, and Maggie helped her upstairs for a nap. She stalled as long as she could, but eventually had no choice but to return to the living room.

  And Greg.

  “She’s already asleep,” she said when she entered. “She didn’t move once her head hit the pillow.”

  Greg rose and moved toward her. It was so comfortable nestled in his arms, resting her head on his shoulder, feeling the tension leave her body.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  She tucked her face into his neck and breathed in his aftershave. “I’m fine,” she mumbled. “He wasn’t after me.”

  “Thanks be to God.” He held her for a moment then inclined back to gaze into her face. “I’m feeling there’s something wrong. With us.”

  Before she could answer, her doorbell rang.

  “We’re not done with this subject.” He drew away to answer the door, and a chill shivered over her, as though someone yanked a blanket off her. She would have to face him with the truth, but not now.

  Daniels introduced Officer Anderson, and Greg left to take him back to the station.

  Daniels went through the house, checking the windows and locking all outside doors. “Don’t you worry, Ms. Schreiber. I’ll be right outside.” He gave her his cell number. “Just call if you need anything. And bolt this door after me.”

  She waited until he stepped out on the porch, bolted the door, and then watched him through the window until he got into his car. Having no idea what to do, she still felt she should do something. The longing to talk to Aunt Esther was stronger than ever.

  Deep down, she knew Aunt Esther wouldn’t have known what to do either, but talking with her would have been comforting. The diaries called to her. Maybe she could get answers to other questions, like what were Aunt Esther’s thoughts on a dad walking out on his daughter?

  She climbed the stairs to her room. Aunt Esther loved her brother, but she must have had some opinions. And maybe she knew the real reason he left. He would never tell Maggie, and when she begged to live with him, he’d declined. He said he couldn’t provide a good home for her and suggested she go to Aunt Esther’s. She was grateful, since it might not have occurred to her as an option if he hadn’t suggested it, and the move had been the best thing for her in the end. She flipped to the summer he left and started reading. A few pages in, she found what she was looking for.

  Danny left. I wondered how long it would take before he got tired of the infidelities. I know it’s not right to judge, but none of this can be beneficial for little Maggie. This last affair was too much. The test he had taken when she was a baby confirmed it wasn’t the first, and then Darla begged him to come back after he caught her again. I think she’s searching for something to fill the emptiness. I’ve tried to explain to her there is One answer, but she won’t hear it. Jesus is the only One able to fill the hole in her heart, but maybe she’s been hurt by the church in some way. It’s almost painful to see her turn her back on the only thing that will truly help her. Nevertheless, Maggie will need some extra attention. I wish I could do more. Her mother won’t let her stay with me. She got almost violent when I suggested it.

  A test? What test? Maggie’s mind whirled. Could it have been a paternity test? Did it mean Danny wasn’t her real father? If so, it could explain why he wouldn’t let her live with him when she was so desperate. Her face was wet, but her mouth was dry. No wonder she didn’t look like him. Her mother had always preferred blonds; Allie’s dad was blond, too. Bile rose in her throat. Why didn’t he tell her? Why did he let her believe he was her father? No wonder he didn’t want her. She must have been a constant reminder of a painful past.

  Another thought occurred to her. It also meant she was not related to Aunt Esther. She squeezed her eyes shut and let the waves of pain wash over her. She needed to talk to Dad. Or should she call him Danny?

  15

  Greg checked his phone. A text from David said he hadn’t had a chance to question Cameron before surgery. Not surprising. Once David posted a guard, he was coming in. After what Maggie said about Cameron shielding Allie with his body, Greg doubted the young man would have pushed her down the stairs yesterday—at least, not on purpose.

  A call crackled over the radio. A dark green truck with a broken headlight and damage to the right front had been located, and they were bringing in the suspects.

  Greg sped back to the station. He wanted in on this.

  He studied the young man through the one-way glass. Hunched over the table, his cuffed hands in his lap, the kid rocked back and forth. Once in a while, he whipped his head back, sending the longish, sandy-colored hair out of his face, to have it slide back when he hunched again. The paperwork said Cody Hansen. Even without knowing there was no rap sheet, Greg could tell he hadn’t been in trouble before. This could be the break they needed.

  Greg breezed into the room as if he were very busy, tossed a clipboard on the table, and sat across from the suspect.

  Cody stopped rocking, his eyes trailing Greg’s every movement.

  “So, Mr. Hansen…Cody. Can I call you Cody?”

  The young man nodded.

  “Let’s get you out of those cuffs, shall we? I’m sure they aren’t very comfortable.” He lifted the key.

  Cody held out his wrists. Once the cuffs were off, Cody pushed the hair out of his face, rubbed his wrists, and lowered his hands back to his lap.

  Greg took the voice recorder out of his pocket and placed it on the table between them.

  Cody’s gaze shifted to the device.

  “First, the easy questions. Please tell me your full name.”

  “Cody Andrew Hansen.”

  Greg flipped through some papers. “It appears they’ve read you your rights, and you signed them. Did you understand what they mean?”

  He nodded.

  “Can you answer, please, for the recording?”

  “Oh. Yes, I understand.”

  Greg asked him his address and where he was born, gauging his responses without seeming to pay much attention. “It looks as though you’ve never been arrested before
, right?”

  Cody relaxed his shoulders and gave another nod. “Yes. I mean, no…I have never been arrested.”

  Greg fixed his gaze on the young man, as if pinning him to the chair. “Attempted murder isn’t a great way to start, Cody.”

  His eyes got huge, and he scooted back in his chair as though trying to put as much distance between them as possible. “Attempted murder?” His voice squeaked. “I didn’t try to kill nobody.”

  “You were in the truck, though, weren’t you?”

  Cody looked like a rabbit faced by a coyote, unsure which way to run.

  Greg toyed with his pen. “We know you were in the truck, Cody. People saw you. And I’m sure we’ll find your fingerprints.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut and started rocking again, but said nothing.

  “So, why did you shoot Cameron Hayes?”

  Cody froze. “I didn’t! I didn’t shoot nobody!”

  “Well, somebody did, because Cameron’s in the hospital with a gunshot wound.”

  “It wasn’t me!”

  “You know we can tell if you’ve fired a gun recently. There’ll be residue on your hands.”

  Cody lifted his hands and held them out, palms up. “Go ahead and check.”

  “So were you driving?”

  His hands faltered in the air for a second then fell to his lap along with his gaze.

  Greg waited. He could almost see the thoughts whizzing around in the kid’s head. He kept his voice even. Frightening him might shut him down. “Burglary is a whole lot different from murder, you know.”

  Cody’s head jerked up. “I thought you said he was OK.”

  “He is right now, but if he dies, it’s murder.” Greg flipped through a few pages, holding the top ones in one hand. “How old are you again?”

  “Eighteen.”

  Greg let the pages fall and studied the young man in front of him. “Oh, too bad. You’re an adult, and the rest of your life in prison is a long time. What about Esther Campbell?”

  Confusion scrunched Cody’s face. “Who?”

  “You know, the lady you guys killed a week or so ago when she walked in on your burglary.”

  Cody jarred the table as he jumped to his feet. “It wasn’t us! We didn’t take anything from her! We weren’t even there!”

  Greg remained seated, every muscle tensed, but he kept his voice calm. “OK, settle down and tell me about Cameron. What happened today?”

  Cody’s eyes pleaded with him. “You have to believe me, man. I didn’t know he was going to do it.”

  Greg was silent.

  Cody sat back down. “It’s Bobby’s truck, but Grady was driving. I was sitting in the backseat. We were watching Cam because he’s been acting real strange. Grady was afraid he was gonna tell his girlfriend about us, so we were tailing him. It was a lark, you know?”

  “Go on.” Greg flipped the pen between his fingers as if he didn’t care.

  “Bobby was just playing, waving his gun around, but when we saw Cam with the girl, he went crazy. He started shooting out the window. Grady hit the gas cause Cam’s his little brother, and he yanked hard on the wheel. We slammed into Cam’s truck, and while Bobby was off balance, Grady flew out of there.” Cody stared off to the side as if replaying the whole thing in his head. “We got a couple blocks away. Then Grady stopped the truck and started to beat on him, but Bobby pointed the gun at him and made him get out. Then he made me drive. We got pulled over after that.”

  Greg wrote a few notes, giving the kid time to settle. Then he glanced up again. “I need to ask you where you were the morning of Saturday, the third.”

  He didn’t even stop to think. “I always work on Saturday, so I would have been at work.”

  “And where do you work?”

  Cody leaned back in his chair. “I’m a cook at Flips.”

  Greg smiled. “Do you like it there?”

  He stretched his legs. “I like it OK. The hours are kind of hard.”

  “What are your hours?”

  “I start at five in the morning, and I get off at one thirty or so.”

  “You know the lady we were talking about, Esther Campbell?”

  Cody brought his legs in under him and tensed. “Yeah?”

  “She was killed on the third. Do you know where Bobby and Grady were? Do you know if one of them killed her?”

  He crossed his arms. “I don’t know, man. I wasn’t there.”

  “You do know they rob people, though.” It wasn’t a question.

  “I don’t know nothin’ about that.”

  Greg asked him a few more questions but didn’t get any helpful information. He finished up his notes, left Cody writing out a statement, and went to see how David was doing with Bobby.

  David had his back to the glass, and it appeared he wasn’t getting anywhere. Unlike Cody, this was probably not Bobby’s first arrest. Greg hadn’t seen his rap sheet, but Bobby sprawled in his seat, a bored look on his face.

  The tense lines of David’s body showed his frustration as he blasted him with questions, getting no response. After a few more tries, he stalked out of the room.

  Greg joined him at his desk. “So, were you able to get anything?”

  David sat in his chair and leaned back, looking up at him. “No, nothing. What about you?”

  Greg swiveled to face David’s desk and explained what he’d gotten from Cody. “I believe the kid’s telling the truth. I don’t know if he was involved with the other robberies, but I don’t think he was there when Esther was killed. It would have freaked him out, and I would have seen it on his face. He was scared enough with Cameron, even though he’s still alive. Plus, he’s not a very good liar.”

  “What about Bobby?”

  “Cody says he wasn’t there, and he doesn’t know. He wouldn’t make a guess. I want to see what the search team finds in their houses before I question him any further, but my gut says he’s been hanging with them for a lark. He might be guilty of burglary, but not murder.”

  David skimmed Cody’s file. “Did you notice the build on Bobby?” he asked without looking up.

  “Yeah, he could be the one who pushed Allie. And he fits the description Cameron gave Maggie of the guy he saw crossing her yard.”

  David finished reading Greg’s notes and slid the file back. “If it was Bobby, wouldn’t Cameron have recognized him?”

  “Yeah, he would. If he was telling Maggie the truth.”

  16

  The morning sun blinded Maggie when she twitched the curtain aside to peer out her living room window. Relief washed over her—Officer Daniels was gone, and no one had taken his place. Last night Greg said they had some promising leads. He must feel pretty confident if he removed her guard. She glanced up the stairs. Allie was still in bed. She wouldn’t feel like going to church. It didn’t seem possible it had been over a week already. The empty space in the pew where Aunt Esther sat would haunt her, and she had told Greg not to pick her up. Instead, she’d ask Dad some questions. If he was her dad, that is.

  Danny answered the door, his scrunched forehead showing his concern over her impromptu visit. “Your call was somewhat cryptic.” He gave her a hug. “Come in and tell me what this is about.”

  She poured a cup of coffee from the half-full pot and sat with him at the kitchen table, tucking one foot underneath her. “I’ve been reading Esther’s diaries.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “I thought they were stolen.”

  “Not all of them. Why didn’t you tell me you’re not my real dad?”

  His head snapped back, and his eyes grew wide. “What? Where did you get that idea?”

  “It’s OK. You can tell me. I need to know. Are you my father?” An old children’s book where the baby bird was looking for its mother flashed to mind. She felt like a baby bird now, lost and confused.

  “Of course, I’m your dad. What did you read?”

  “I read about a test. Was it a paternity test? Did you find out when I was born that you�
��re not my real father?”

  Danny hesitated, wrapping his hands around his cup. “Is there any way you’ll leave this alone?”

  “No, I need to know.”

  “Have you asked your mother?”

  “No!” She hadn’t meant to shout the word. She lowered her voice. “I’m asking you. Why don’t you want to answer me? I guess you don’t have to. I already know. You’re not my real dad.”

  He hesitated.

  Would he tell her the truth?

  “I–I’m your dad,” he stammered, “but I’m not your biological father.”

  Even though she was expecting to hear it, the answer stabbed through her like a knife twisting in her gut. “What do you mean?”

  “It means I love you.”

  Maggie stared into the blackness inside her cup. “I should have known. When you wouldn’t let me live with you, I should have known.” Tears blurred her eyes.

  “How could you know?” His words came faster now, as if the dam burst, and he couldn’t stop them. “I didn’t let you live with me because I’m not strong enough. I’ve felt guilty every day since. I didn’t try harder. Your mother said she’d prevent me from seeing you.” He took a breath. “Even though I couldn’t see you very much, I was still able to find out how you were doing through Esther. If Darla cut me out of your life, I feared she’d cut Esther out, too, and then I’d never know how you were.”

  His fingers tightened and twisted on his cup. She could well imagine her mother using her to get whatever she wanted from him. “But this isn’t about your mother,” he continued. “It’s about me.” He sipped his coffee. “I should have fought for you. I knew you weren’t happy, but I had no legal rights.” He lifted a sad gaze to her face. “I was afraid of losing you, so I backed off. When I could see she was ruining you with her boyfriends, I forced her to let you live with Esther. I threatened to have her declared unfit.”

  It didn’t seem enough of a threat. She’d come this far. She wanted the whole unvarnished truth. If her mother didn’t want her, why wouldn’t she let her go? “What else did it take?” she asked. “It’s not like she cared.” The whisper scraped her throat.