A Trail of Breadcrumbs

by D E Dennis

  “Thanks. You think of anything else we need to know. Give us a shout.” Monica handed over their business card.

  “I will.” He brought his hand to his forehead and tipped his cap. “Flatfoot to flatfoot.”

  They left him standing there, holding on to the card like it was a gold bar.

  Michael waited until they were in the car. “What was that about?” he said, chuckling.

  “Brother dear, you know how I have many contacts and informants around town, willing to help us out when we get into sticky situations?”

  “Yeah...”

  “Well, that is how you make them. Better to have the nosy neighbor on your side, instead of the other way around.”

  He shrugged. “Whatever you say, sis.”

  They waited in the car, music playing and air conditioner blasting, for Kaiden Rowe to return home.

  Like Nelson Finley predicted, they did not have to wait long. Twenty minutes later, a sleek, silver car was pulling into the driveway of the Rowe house and Michael and Monica stepped out.

  “Mr. Rowe,” Monica called. “Hello. Can we speak to you for a second?”

  He climbed out of the car. “Is this about Harper? Do you know who killed my wife?”

  There was no mistaking the beseeching in his voice, but still, Michael was struck by how put together this guy was. His hair was gelled into submission, clothes neatly pressed, tie straight.

  “We believe we know why she was killed,” Monica replied, skirting the question. “We found out the topic of her article.”

  He lifted his chin, looking between the both of them. “We can discuss it inside.”

  “Need help with the groceries?”

  “Thank you,” Kaiden replied stiffly. He opened up his back door and passed Michael a few bags.

  Kaiden closed the door with a firm slam and marched toward the house.

  Michael followed with the scant amount of groceries.

  “Wait here,” Kaiden ordered after depositing them in the living room. “I’m going to put these away.”

  He walked off with his food and Monica sat. Her nose wrinkled.

  “It reeks of bleach,” she whispered. “If it’s possible, it’s even cleaner than it was the last time we came. And it was already spotless. This is clean freak to the extreme.”

  “He’s unraveling, Mo.”

  “Unraveling? I’ve never seen anyone handle loss as well as this guy.”

  He shook his head firmly. “We all grieve differently. I think in Kaiden’s case, the more chaotic he feels, the more he tries to force order on the world around him. He’s a hair away from snapping, if the state of this place is anything to go by.”

  She nodded. “I’ll go easy on him.”

  Kaiden appeared in the entrance, bringing their conversation to a halt.

  “So, you have information about Harper’s death. I’m listening.”

  “We know what she was working on,” Monica said as he sank into an armchair. “She was writing a memorial article for the victims of the Siren Woods Killer.”

  Kaiden flinched, just the slightest crack in his armor, before he hid himself away under his mask. “She was?”

  “Did you not know this?”

  He frowned. “I told you already,” he snapped. “Harper and I didn’t talk about work.”

  “But this wasn’t just work,” Monica said gently. “This was about honoring the memory of Harper’s little sister. Making sure she would never be forgotten. You did know about Andrea, didn’t you?”

  “Of course, I did.”

  “So that is something you talked about, but yet she didn’t tell you about the article?”

  He stiffened. “Probably because she knew I wouldn’t approve.”

  They lifted their brows.

  “Not because she wanted to write about the kids,” he added quickly. “I would have disapproved because it wouldn’t have stopped there.”

  “You mean it would have become about their deaths. About their killer.”

  He nodded, tightlipped.

  “Did Harper talk to you about him? Liam Antarr?”

  Lips curling, he replied, “Antarr? That animal?”

  “He killed your wife’s sister and he was never charged for the crime. Harper was an investigative journalist. She brought countless people to justice. It’s not a leap to think she would want to add her sister’s killer to the list.”

  His sneer melted away, face going slack. “No... it’s not a leap.” Eyes drifting off them, he looked over their heads. “Harper was obsessed with Antarr. She had an entire file on him on her computer. Photos, statements, interviews with his former cellmate and prison guards.”

  Michael’s mouth fell open.

  “She what?” he blurted. “She had an entire file of evidence on the town’s most notorious resident, and you didn’t mention this before?”

  He blinked at him. “Why would I? Haven’t you seen it already?”

  Monica frowned. “Mr. Rowe, you know we haven’t. Harper’s computers were wiped.”

  He looked at them like they were being ridiculous. “Yes, but not her flash drive. Harper kept copies of everything on it. She saved whatever she was working on at home on the drive and then brought it to work and vice versa. She kept it at work when she didn’t need to write at home. I assumed the police took it into evidence by now.”

  They goggled at him. “She has copies of everything she worked on, including her files on Liam Antarr,” Monica clarified.

  The Grimm siblings shared their look.

  “Yes,” said Kaiden. He looked away from his wedding photo, fists clenching. “I know what you’re thinking,” he whispered. “You think she went too far. That she didn’t focus on the kids like she promised and she dug into Antarr. He realized she was investigating him and he killed her.” He shook his head as he lifted his hand and yanked viciously on his tie.

  “Like she promised?” Michael repeated.

  His head came up, eyes unfocused. “What?”

  “You said she promised to focus on the kids? Did she make that promise to you? Even though you claimed you didn’t know what she was writing about?”

  “No.” He screwed up his face. “That’s not what I meant. I just meant she promised she was done with Antarr! That man has already destroyed enough lives! I didn’t want him in the one we were building together.” Kaiden scrabbled at the buttons on his throat.

  “He did destroy lives,” Michael said softly. “Those children, their families... and the people who tried to bring him to justice. Like your father.”

  Kaiden groaned, burying his head in his hands. “Dad barely slept for months while Antarr was on the loose. He thought I didn’t know, but I saw how it tore him apart. Everyone was looking at him to solve it, find the killer, and make the town safe again. Then he does, but he can’t get Antarr on anything but what he did to his own kids. There wasn’t a shred of evidence and Antarr walked out of the courtroom with a laughable sentence.”

  He tugged at his cuffs, freeing his wrists. “The town never forgave Dad, and he never forgave himself. He quit the force not long after. Disgraced. Then he— He...” He furiously rubbed his hands through his hair, sending it sticking up in all directions.

  “Brother dear,” Monica whispered out of the corner of her mouth. “What was that you said about unraveling?”

  “That’s why I told her to stop,” he cried. “My father lost his job and self-respect. I didn’t want Harper to be his next...” He gasped, breathing rapidly like the air was being sucked from his lungs. “His next victim!”

  He lurched to his feet. “He killed her! He killed my Harper!”

  With a roar, he got his hands under the coffee table and heaved, flinging it across the room.

  It crashed into the TV stand, toppling the big screen and eliciting a scream from Monica.

  “This is why I do the talking!” she yelled as Kaiden swept through the room, turning his sorrow on everything in sight. When a lamp shattered inches awa
y from their feet, Michael sprang into action.

  “Kaiden, stop!”

  He grabbed his wrist, stopping him from overturning the bookshelf, and wrenched his hand up his back.

  Kaiden cried out as Michael forced him to his knees, then to the floor. He fought ferociously in his hold, crying, screaming, spouting obscenities that would make a biker cover their ears.

  Michael held firm, keeping him restrained as his sister crouched down and murmured to him until he went limp and all that remained were the tears.

  “HERE YOU GO, KAIDEN,” Monica said as she slid the teacup on the table toward him. “Drink it when you’re ready.”

  He said nothing, his eyes fixed on the photo in his hands.

  It took a while, but the siblings got him calmed down enough to get him on the couch and wrap him in a cocoon of blankets while they put the place back to rights and called for reinforcements. In that time, Kaiden moved from his spot only once to take down his wedding photo.

  The bell rang and Michael dropped the broom, hurrying to open it.

  “Thank you for coming,” he said sincerely to the person on the other side. “We didn’t know who else to call.”

  “You did the right thing,” Mrs. Engelbert said gently. She stepped inside. Despite her ordeal the night before, Mrs. Engelbert looked no worse for wear. “Kaiden shut me out after he found out what happened to Harper, but he needs to be with someone who... understands what he’s going through.” She patted his arm. “I’ll take over from here. You get back to proving Antarr killed my daughter.”

  He nodded. “I will.”

  They did as she said, leaving her to look after her son-in-law.

  “I need a raise,” Monica grumbled after they slammed the car doors shut.

  He snorted. “That would mean more cases, little sister.”

  She sighed, leaning her head back. “They can’t all be like this, right?”

  He squeezed her shoulder. “We’re getting close, Mo. We’re going to get justice for Harper. That’s the best thing we can do for Kaiden.”

  She nodded. “We have to find that flash drive.”

  “Kaiden said she kept it at work. We’ll go back. Talk to Lyle.”

  “What if it was on Harper the night she was killed and Antarr took it?”

  “One thing at a time, Mo.”

  Heaving a sigh, she said, “Okay, I’ll call Mira now.”

  She called up Samira as she drove off.

  Michael listened to her side of the conversation with one ear.

  “...find anything like that when you searched?”

  “Really?”

  “Okay. We’re going to speak to Lyle again.”

  “Yes. We’re fine.”

  “Antarr didn’t say one word to us. He made Michael seem like a chatterbox.”

  He threw her a scowl.

  “We’re not planning on going back anytime soon. We’re going to work other leads, and hope the trail leads back to him.”

  “I know you are.”

  “Alright. See you tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Michael said the moment she hung up. “What’s happening tonight?”

  “Mom, Mira, Ella, and I are going out to dinner.”

  “What?” he cried, goggling at her. “When were these plans made?”

  “It was a last-minute thing,” she said mildly. “Ella wants an audience to practice her speech, and since it’s my turn to take Mom to her appointment, I told Ella to tag along. Mom and I always go out to dinner after so it became the three of us. Then earlier on the phone with Mira, it became the four of us.”

  “Am I invited?”

  “Nope.”

  He mumbled a few unkind things under his breath and she laughed.

  “Don’t be sour. I need to have a girls’ night every now and then. I’m saddled with my big brother twenty-four seven.”

  “Saddled with me, huh?” He moved fast, fingers flying as he tickled her. “You saying you don’t love working with me?”

  She shrieked, swatting at him one-handed as she tried to steer. “Michael, I will crash this car if you don’t stop!”

  He laughed but gave in. A crash wasn’t too appealing to him either.

  “Loony, death-wishing, brother born to drive me crazy,” she mumbled under her breath. “This is why I need a girls’ night.”

  Laughing louder, he reclined in his seat. “So what did Samira say?”

  It took her a minute, but she answered. “Police searched her car, home, and workspace. They didn’t find a flash drive nor did they know they were supposed to be looking for one. Mira isn’t pleased this slipped past her.”

  “Why didn’t Lyle mention it?” he mused.

  “That’s a great question. One we’ll be asking in the next thirty minutes.”

  “I DIDN’T KNOW,” NOAH Lyle insisted, leaping out of his desk. “I didn’t know about any flash drive.”

  Monica folded her arms. “How can that be? You said you were her right-hand man.”

  “I was,” he replied, sticking his nose in the air. “When it came to work. Her owning a flash drive had nothing to do with me getting my work done, so why would she bother to tell me?”

  “We believe the evidence the killer wanted to erase was on that drive, Lyle. We need to find it. If he doesn’t have it already.”

  “He?” He looked around, then lowering his voice. “You mean Antarr?”

  They didn’t respond, but the looks on their faces said it well enough.

  “You think he sent the viruses that wiped her computers?” he squeaked. “But how? How would he know how to do that?”

  “He doesn’t need to know how,” Monica said gravely. “He just needs to know someone who does. I know three separate people who could crack into that little laptop of yours and find all the secrets you have tucked away. One of them would do it at a price. Two for free. It’s all about who you know, Lyle, and Liam Antarr spent years in prison. Just think of the people he knows... and the things they can do.”

  Michael watched Lyle’s Adam’s apple ping-pong. “You have a point.”

  She inclined her head. “Now, you know Harper. If the drive isn’t here or at her house. Where could it be?”

  “Back again?”

  They pivoted, turning to face the person who appeared at their back.

  Ximena smirked at them. “Still hard at work chasing down poor Harper’s killer? It’s been almost two weeks? If you two were investigative journalists you’d be out of a job.”

  “It’s a good thing we’re not then,” Monica said simply. “Now if you’ll excuse us—”

  “What’s all this about a drive?” Ximena plowed on.

  Michael chose to answer. “We’re looking for Mrs. Rowe’s flash drive. It might contain vital information for the case.”

  She snorted, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, that thing. What are you expecting to find on it?”

  “That thing? You know the drive we’re talking about?”

  “Yes,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve seen Harper whip it out every now and then.”

  “We can’t seem to find it. Do you have any idea where it could be?”

  “No,” she snapped. “Why would I?”

  No reply.

  Face twisting, she planted her hands on her hips. “Are you implying I took it?”

  The siblings shared a look. “I didn’t say that. Mo, did I say that?”

  “No, brother dear. I don’t think you implied it either.”

  They turned back to her, facing the full force of her scowl.

  “Well, good, because I didn’t touch that stupid drive. I didn’t need to. I’m a real reporter. A better one, to be frank. I’ve had Harper’s assignment for five days and I’ve already dug up more on the Siren Woods Killer case than she did.”

  He blinked. “You were assigned Harper’s article? The one memorializing the children of—”

  She flapped her hand through the air, cutting him off. “We’re not doing that an
ymore. This piece will be a full blow-by-blow of the entire case. The trial, the witnesses, the interrogations, and what went wrong.”

  Monica frowned. “But that isn’t what Harper wanted. She wanted this piece to honor the children.”

  Ximena rolled her eyes. “Well, Harper isn’t here anymore, is she?”

  “The very least the Times can do is honor her wishes,” Monica argued. “She died for this piece. If you don’t bother to print it then it will have been for nothing.”

  Ximena was far from moved. “The newspaper business is cutthroat. We’re fighting to stay afloat amid the move to digital. There is no room for sentiment. The Castle Rock Times ran an article about Harper, detailing her time at the paper and giving well-wishes to her family. Now it’s time to move on. An article about a couple children who passed decades ago won’t move copies, but a piece about a killer who escaped justice and still lives among us today will.”

  She shrugged, a smirk on her lips. “You could even call it a public service announcement.”

  “That’s awful,” Monica said bluntly. She never was one to hide her thoughts. “You’re underestimating the people of Castle Rock and Harper Rowe. I have had the fortune of reading her pieces over the last few days. She was an amazing journalist. She wrote with heart and conviction. She’s exposed a lot of corruption, but it was clear her intent was not to smear names or chase headlines; she just wanted people to know the truth.

  “Harper knew the articles that needed to be written and this one was no different. Those children deserve to be remembered. Their deaths were a tragedy, not a vehicle to move copies.”

  Monica’s speech had Ximena redder than a maraschino cherry. “I do not need you to tell me how to move copies,” she snapped. “I am a great journalist! Biggs just gave Harper all the best assignments! No one had a chance to prove themselves with her swooping in, snatching up the puppy mill at the Golden Goose Farm and the illegal gambling ring operating through the King’s Horses. I’m stuck with stupid restaurant openings like anyone gives a rat’s about Gracie’s.

  “The truth is there was nothing special about Harper Rowe. She didn’t make great news: she just reported it. Give her assignments to anyone else and their names would be plastered all over the lobby’s walls too.”