The Temptation of Silence

by V. J. Chambers

  “Take a bite.”

  Liam rolled his head on his shoulders. He should resist this. Every time he gave in to whatever it was that Finn wanted, he put himself further under the other man’s control. He picked up the toast and took a bite.

  “I hear you chewing.” Finn sounded turned on. “How’s it taste?”

  Liam swallowed. “It takes like buttered toast.”

  “Come on, tiger, you can do better than that.”

  “Good, okay?” Liam was taking another bite.

  “Fuck, I wish I was there. I wish I was watching you.” Finn’s voice had gotten insubstantial.

  Liam ate another bite. “It’s really good,” he murmured. “The butter’s just the right amount of melty and salty, and the toast has a crunch, and the whole kitchen smells like it.”

  Finn groaned.

  Liam shoved the rest of the bread into his mouth and chewed.

  “I’m at your stepdaughter’s school.”

  Liam swallowed the bread, barely getting it down. “You’re where?”

  “I can see her. She’s in class. She’s sitting near the window. She seems to be paying attention.”

  “What the flying fuck, Finn?” Liam’s voice was rising.

  “Is she a good student?”

  “You’re just saying this shit,” said Liam, snatching the phone up and taking it off speaker phone. “Why the fuck are you saying—”

  “How old is she? Thirteen? Too young for my tastes. I have boundaries and all. But, you know, maybe I’m getting bored.”

  “Fuck you.” Liam gripped the phone and stalked out of the kitchen, toast forgotten. “You leave Madison out of—”

  “That’s her name. Madison. I couldn’t remember that.” Finn chuckled.

  “She’s a little kid, Finn,” said Liam. “And she has nothing to do with—”

  “Relax, tiger. I don’t want to hurt little Madison. I want to leave her be and let her live her life. And I will. As long as you keep this number and the fact that I called you to yourself.”

  Liam let out a disbelieving laugh. “Seriously? What do you care? I read the news. You’re killing again. It’s not like they don’t know you’re nearby.” But maybe a phone number would help the police. Maybe they could use the number to trace the phone. After all, Liam could track his own phone on Google if he lost it. It couldn’t be that hard for the cops. So, if Liam gave up this number, it could mean that Finn would go back to jail.

  “I shouldn’t have called you,” said Finn. “I can’t trust you, and I don’t know what the hell you’re going to do. But I… I don’t know, everything’s falling apart. I didn’t want to kill that woman. Do you believe me? Sometimes, it wells up in me, and it needs release, and—”

  “Spare me,” Liam snapped.

  “Just think about it,” said Finn. “Think about whether or not you think the police would get to me before I got to Madison. And think about what I might do to her if I had the opportunity.”

  “Fuck you,” Liam said again.

  “Good to hear your voice, tiger,” said Finn. He hung up.

  Liam pulled his phone away from his ear and gaped at it.

  The whole house smelled like toast.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Dawson settled down in front of Captain Moore’s desk in his office. It was morning, and she was clutching a to-go coffee cup.

  Captain Moore had one too, only his was twice as big. He liked big cups of coffee, as Dawson remembered. He took a drink from the cup. “You heard that there’s semen?”

  “Why should Slater hide the fact it’s him, sir?” said Dawson. “Why not leave his DNA all over the place?” When Slater’s first victims had been found, there had been no evidence linking him to the bodies, though the bodies all showed signs of having been sexually assaulted. This new body had been raped, just as the others had, but Slater had been sloppy.

  “Well, if we get that tested, we’ll be sure it’s not a copycat,” said Captain Moore. “Too many of the details of his killings were released to the press after his arrest. We didn’t see the harm, but now that he’s free, we could have someone else out there try to pay him homage. And this scene wasn’t identical to his other’s.”

  “That’s true,” she admitted. “I guess we’ll need to wait until we get the results to be sure that we know it’s Slater we’re dealing with.”

  “I’m fairly confident it will be,” said Moore. “But if not, I want you to understand that I need your priority to be Slater himself. If this is a copycat, and we get news of Slater elsewhere, you’ll have to drop this and pursue him. You got that?”

  “Of course,” said Dawson. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “You sure?” said Moore. “Because I can see how this whole thing could rattle you. He singled you out by name. If you want off this, you say the word.”

  “No,” she said. “I don’t want off it.”

  Moore smiled at her. “I figured you’d say that.”

  She smiled back. She wouldn’t deny that this case intimidated her, but that didn’t mean she was interested in letting it go. No, it was personal for her now, and she wouldn’t rest until Slater was behind bars. She fingered the bullet wound again.

  “Have you been keeping in touch with Liam Emerson?”

  Her stomach turned over at the sound of the man’s name, and she hoped that Moore didn’t see how she reacted. “Well, there’s been no reason to bring him in on anything, and I don’t see that there’s any reason now.”

  “Probably not, I guess,” said Moore.

  “I’ll talk to him, just to make sure that he doesn’t have anything to contribute.” Hell, why had she said that? She didn’t want to talk to Liam. Not only because it was embarrassing because of that stupid kiss, but because she seemed to make stupid decisions when it came to him, and for no reason she could even understand. There was no reason to be attracted to him. He was attractive, but he was also older than her, nearly a decade older, and furthermore, he was screwed-up in the head and he had a thing for Slater. He could deny it all he wanted. She’d seen them together. There was something there.

  But the most damning part of it all was that Liam had killed Destiny Worth in 2004, and she hadn’t reported that information to anyone.

  Well… she couldn’t be sure that Liam had killed Destiny.

  Slater had said it, and Liam said Slater was lying, and it was true that Slater had attempted to frame Liam for all of his murders, but this seemed different.

  Dawson wasn’t sure she believed Liam.

  And yet, her stomach still turned over when someone else mentioned his name.

  Perfect, she thought to herself. Just wonderful.

  “Good,” Moore was saying. “We should probably have someone checking up on Mr. Emerson from time to time. I know that you work well with him. Let me know if you shake anything loose, all right?”

  “Sure thing, sir,” said Dawson, forcing herself to smile. “Sure thing.”

  * * *

  When Liam’s phone rang the next day, he was afraid.

  He warily approached it, tipping up his chin so that he could get a look at the number of who was calling.

  But then he saw that his ex-wife Belinda was calling. Well, that was strange. Belinda never called him anymore. They weren’t even really hashing out the particulars of the divorce anymore. He had given her whatever she wanted, and he’d signed some papers and gone to file them with her. There was a court date set, but he understood that it was basically a formality since they had worked everything out between them.

  “Hello?”

  “Liam, it’s Belinda.”

  “Hi.”

  “How are you?”

  Liam debated answering this question honestly, and then decided against it. Belinda didn’t really care about that. She was his ex-wife for a reason. “Fine. Is there something I can do for you, Belinda? It’s such a surprise to hear from you.”

  “Well, um, I am calling to ask for a favor, actually,”
she said. “I wouldn’t bother you about it, really, but you and Madison have kept in touch, and I know she likes you, and you’re good with her, so I thought I would ask.”

  He was not good with Madison. Any time he attempted to talk to his teenage stepdaughter, he got the distinct impression that they were speaking different languages. “What kind of favor?”

  “I’m going to a conference for work,” she said. “It’s three days, two nights, and I can’t find anyone who can watch Madison.”

  “You want me to do it?”

  “They’re school days,” said Belinda. “You’d just have to get her up and make sure she has some breakfast and then stay with her in the evenings and overnight.”

  “You know I don’t have another bedroom in this house, Belinda.” And besides, she couldn’t stay here with him. This apartment was not friendly to a thirteen-year-old.

  “You’d come stay here, of course,” said Belinda. “In the guest room.”

  “Oh,” he said.

  “I could pay you,” she said.

  She was desperate, then. “That’s not necessary. I guess I could do it.”

  “Really?” she said. “Really?” She let out a breath. “Oh, thank you so much, Liam. And you do have to let me pay you or something, though. I need to do something for you.”

  “When you went to a conference before, you left casseroles in the refrigerator,” he said, thinking wistfully of what it had been like to live with her, to be a husband, to have someone who cared if he ate. Well, someone who wasn’t a crazy psycho killer, anyway. “If you feed me, I’ll consider us even.”

  She laughed. “Are you sure? I was going to leave food for Madison, of course.”

  “I’m positive,” he said. “When is this conference?”

  She told him the dates.

  He made a note of it and then they talked about a few more details and exchanged a few more pleasantries before they hung up.

  There was something satisfying about the idea that Belinda thought he was capable of being a responsible adult for her daughter. It made him feel good about himself. Of course, it was probably not true. He drank too much.

  I won’t be able to drink when I’m there, he thought with a grimace.

  That probably meant he wouldn’t sleep either.

  Well, it was too late to get out of it. He’d just have to hope for the best.

  There was a knock on his door.

  He didn’t usually get many visitors. Who could that be?

  He crossed to the front door to open it.

  It was Detective Dawson.

  She looked good. Her hair was growing out and it was less unruly now, her waves tamed. She raised her eyebrows. “Mr. Emerson, may I come in?”

  “So, it’s Mr. Emerson now?” he said, stepping aside to let her into his house.

  She shrugged. “I thought we’d try to be professional. Didn’t we agreed to that?” She looked around his living room. “You should clean. Do you ever clean? Should we go into the kitchen like before?”

  “Yeah, sure,” he said.

  She led the way, disappearing into the kitchen before he made it there. “This toast on your counter is going to attract insects.”

  The toast.

  He hurried into the kitchen and snatched it up from where he’d left it. Man, he really hadn’t been back in his kitchen since that call yesterday? Well, what reason was there to go in there? He had most of his meals delivered—fast food, typically—and the kitchen made him think of Finn now, so why go in there?

  Everything made him think of Finn, however.

  Liam threw the toast in the trash. “It’s winter,” he said, without looking at Dawson. “The insects are all… I don’t know. Dead? Hibernating? Do insects hibernate?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know.” She stood next to his table, looking him over. “Um, how are you?”

  “Fine,” he said, pulling out a chair at the table. “And you?”

  She did the same. “I’m also fine.”

  He sat down. “I guess this has to do with the woman they found in the hotel room I read about.”

  “We think it was Slater.”

  “I figured,” he said.

  “We’re just waiting on a confirmation of DNA,” she said. “He left a lot of evidence behind.”

  “Guess he figures he’s got no reason to hide,” said Liam.

  “Guess not,” she said.

  He waited. Why was she here? What did she want from him? Did they need his help again? He wanted to help. He wanted to be doing something to put Finn away.

  Well, tell her about the fact that he called you.

  “I basically wanted to check in,” said Dawson. “I wanted to make sure that you don’t have anything new to tell us or that you don’t have any information that can currently help.”

  He shook his head. “No, I’m no real help at this point. If he’s in Cape Christopher, I have no knowledge of him.”

  “Isn’t it odd that you both lived in this same town and never knew the other was here?” she said.

  “It’s a weird coincidence.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Very weird.”

  He surveyed her. He wasn’t sure he liked her tone. She seemed suspicious of him. Did she know that Finn had contacted him? Could the police be monitoring his phone without his knowledge? Maybe this was all a trap.

  Tell her, he urged himself.

  And if Finn got to Madison before the cops could get to him?

  Well, he won’t even know they’re coming for him, Liam thought.

  Liam couldn’t be sure of that. Maybe he’d get some notification that his phone was being traced. Maybe Finn would then drop everything and go rape a thirteen-year-old girl. Liam knew he’d do it. Would he kill her first? Would he bother to knock her out?

  I can’t tell Dawson. He licked his lips. “Sorry that I can’t be more help, detective.”

  “So am I,” she said. “Listen, I wonder if I could just ask you a few more questions about the night with Destiny Worth.”

  He hung his head. Ah, that explained her manner. This didn’t actually have anything to do with any phone calls from Finn. It was all about the fact that Finn had forced him to tell her the truth in the bunker a month ago. She’d said she believed him, but she wasn’t convinced. He supposed he couldn’t blame her.

  Maybe it would even be easier if he came clean about that.

  Except… no. As much as he’d been the one to wrap his hands around Destiny’s neck and squeeze, it wasn’t his fault she was dead.

  She’d asked him to do it. She begged him to choke her. Finn had egged him on. Liam had been drunk at the time, and he’d been… been penetrated. Penetrated for the first time, and there hadn’t been any of the niceties that usually accompanied such an activity. Some lube, he guessed, or it wouldn’t have worked, but no preparation or stretching, and he had been a dumb kid, unaware that such things were necessary.

  Maybe Finn would claim he’d been stupid about it, too, but more likely, Finn had just taken pleasure in Liam’s pain. Finn was like that.

  If all those things had not been happening, he would have never done what he did, and he couldn’t accept the blame for it. He would be damned if he was going to serve time for murder for that act. He blamed Finn. It was Finn’s fault. In essence, Finn had killed her.

  Anyway, he didn’t like to think about that. “What do you want to know?”

  “It’s only…” She shifted in her seat. “You said you were very drunk and that you blacked out a lot of that night.”

  “That’s true.”

  “So, how can you be sure that… that…”

  “That I didn’t murder my girlfriend?”

  “You said that you were doing breath play with her. You had a means for having done it, and a reasoning behind it, and he said that you two had argued about whether or not you did it on accident.”

  “I don’t think he mentioned either of us arguing.”

  “He expressed concer
n that you two were still at the roadblock that you were claiming it was an accident.”

  “You remember that conversation pretty clearly,” Liam muttered.

  “It’s awfully specific is all,” she said.

  Liam lifted his gaze to hers, looking deep into her eyes. He spoke in an even and smooth voice. “I did not kill Destiny Worth. I swear it to you.”

  She looked away, breaking their eye contact.

  “I thought you said you believed me.”

  “I do believe you,” she said. “It’s only… if you could help me fill in the blanks a little better, it would set my mind to rest.”

  “Like you said, I was black-out drunk. I’d like the blanks filled in, too. I don’t suppose they ever will be.”

  “You said that Finn brought you there that night because he wanted to share Destiny with you, and that you walked out while they were having intercourse.”

  “Uh huh.” He probably should have made up a different story.

  “Why would he want you to say the thing about erotic asphyxiation?”

  “Destiny and I had done that, and Finn knew about it,” said Liam, and now he looked away, as if he was embarrassed about being forced to share details of his sex life. But he didn’t really care. It was a long time ago, and too much of him had been laid bare to worry about what Dawson knew now. He had passed embarrassment a while back. “I guess that’s why Finn wanted me to use it as the story. He says that I came back after they were finished, and that I, uh, that I… took a turn. And that I killed her then, for him, like a present. Which never happened, I assure you, because I don’t care how drunk I was, that is something I would never do.” He wasn’t sure this new lie even made any sense, and now it was something else he had to keep straight. Damn it all.

  Dawson didn’t say anything.

  He slowly raised his gaze to look at her.

  She wasn’t looking at him. She was worrying her forefinger on the woodgrain pattern on his table. She seemed to feel his eyes on her and she looked up. “Okay,” she said. “That helps. Thanks.”

  He eyed her warily. Did she mean that? Was she just saying that?

  “I know it’s not easy for you to talk about,” she said. “It must be pretty horrible to relive all of that.”