Maximum Guilt (Hidden Guilt Book 2) (28 page)

Stacy laughed. “Do you really see me going to jail, David?”

She pressed the gun to her temple.

“Don’t do it, Stacy.”

“Why the fuck not? What do you care about me? You never cared about me. Did you care about me when you told the football team they could all come and get a free piece of ass?”

“Stacy, I feel terrible about that, but I didn’t know what they were going to do. That wasn’t part of the plan. But right now I need you to put the gun down before you do something—”

And like that, it was over. Stacy pulled the trigger and fell to the floor in a heap. Brain matter spattered the walls, and a pool of deep-red blood spread on the floor around her. I didn’t have any real feelings for Stacy. Not after everything she’d done to my family. Not after all the innocent people she’d murdered. But as I stared at her lifeless body, part of me felt sorry for her in a way. If I hadn’t gone to the party, maybe none of this would have happened. Stacy had gotten a pretty raw deal for much of her life, and it turned her into a bitter, hateful, woman. And then there was the child that had just died along with her. Was it mine? I guess I’d never know for sure, but I was relieved. What a nightmare that would have been for me and my family. Regardless, an innocent little life had been needlessly taken.

“David, what happened?” De Luca said as she ran into the room.

“She shot herself. Didn’t want to go to jail, I suppose.”

De Luca placed a hand on my shoulder. “You okay? You don’t look so good.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Ozzo took a shot to the shoulder. Can you call it in? I’m gonna step outside for a bit.”

I took out my phone and sent Wilcrest and Miranda the same text.

We found her, cornered her. She took her own life. It’s over.

The medical crew ran past me with a stretcher. I didn’t wait for them to carry Ozzo out. I figured I’d touch base with him later. De Luca and I went down to the precinct to give our statements. It was daybreak by the time we finished, and both of us were ready to get the hell out of New York.

“Tell Ozzo to give me a call when he’s feeling better. I owe him one,” I said to the officer at the front desk as we headed out.

I booked two seats on the next available flight. Hell, we’d fly standby if we had to. Neither of us could get to Houston fast enough. I called Miranda to let her know I was coming home.

De Luca wasted no time passing out when we got on the plane. I was exhausted, but I was much too wired to sleep. I spent a few minutes rehashing the last two years of my life. If I had to pick one word to describe it all, it would be
whirlwind
. On second thought,
nightmare
worked just as well. But now it was over. The girls and I could get back to our lives. I could focus on setting up procedures for our new team. I’m sure the respite wouldn’t last long; I’d be back on a case before you could blink. But I was going to enjoy the mental rest as long as I could.

Chapter 67

I didn’t know if the spark that had been lit between Lafitte and De Luca would turn into anything, but deep down I hoped it would. Maybe she could settle Lafitte down, something I didn’t believe would ever happen. Maybe it was true that everyone has a soulmate. I’d certainly found mine.

Lafitte and De Luca were meeting us for a double date at Main Event. We’d talked about giving Top Golf a go, but I figured the wait would be too long without a reservation.

“Miranda, you look stunning,” I said as I walked into our bedroom. She smiled over her shoulder at me. “You know we have the house all to ourselves tonight, right?”

Miranda yawned. “Yeah, but I’m already a little tired. It’s been a long week,” she said.

“A little tired or
really
tired?”

We both laughed. I pulled her close to me and laid a soft kiss on her lips.

As we headed out, I sent Paul a text to make sure they were also en route. Unless there was a wreck, the traffic in League City, Texas, was generally light. Tonight was no different.

We turned into the parking lot, and I spotted our friends just heading inside. By the time we found a parking spot, Paul was already putting on his bowling shoes on in lane nine.

We joined our friends and exchanged warm, friendly greetings. But then it was time to get down to business. Lafitte and I were fiercely competitive at everything. I was looking forward to beating him tonight.

“Ready for an ass-whoopin’, my friend?” I said as I laced up my shoes.

“Have you ever beaten me at anything, David?” Lafitte said.

“Are these two always like this?” De Luca asked. Miranda rolled her eyes and nodded.

“If memory serves, the last time we bowled I beat you one ninety to one seventy-five,” I said.

“We’ll see.”

We ordered a round of drinks as the game got underway. This was nice. No police work tonight. Just a little fun with my wife and old friends. After my talk with Lafitte about moving to Houston went so well, I figured us spending time together would cement his decision.

As I picked up my bowling ball, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Then it started to ring. I took a look.

“That one of the girls, dear?” Miranda asked.

“No. I don’t recognize the number. It’s international. I have no idea who it could be.”

“No police work tonight. You promised,” Miranda said half joking.

“I’m only going to answer because I don’t know who it is. I suppose it could be important.”

“Porter,” I said as I put the phone to my ear.

“Detective Porter, dis is Clifton Dixon. I am a homicide detective in Negril, Jamaica. Do you have a moment? I have something I need to read to you. We need your help solving a murder.”

The man’s accent was heavy, and I could barely understand his broken English. Why was a cop from Jamaica calling for my help?

“Sure, go ahead,” I said.

“Thank you. I will read to you a note found at de scene of a double homicide last night at one of our resorts.”

“I’m listening.”

“Thank you. I read de letter to you now.

Detective Porter, catching us won’t be as easy. My wife and I have been watching you. We know everything about you. To us you’re nothing more than a cocky ex-jock and a fucking rapist pig. You’ve caused my family a lot of pain over the years, and most recently you murdered my Aunt Brittany. Until I kill you, I’ll be watching your every move. I’ll be close enough to tickle the hairs on Miranda’s pretty little neck. A young couple needlessly lost their lives tonight and many more will die before it’s over. When will we stop? Not until everyone realizes that you’re an inept fraud who had everyone fooled. After we have humiliated you, ruined your career, and destroyed everything you love, maybe we’ll find a new hobby.

See you soon, Dad.

With all the hate in the world,

Caleb

PS – you’ll be joining my mother soon in the pits of hell.”

I was stunned silent. The bowling ball I was holding slipped from my grasp, missing my foot by only a few inches. Miranda, Lafitte, and De Luca all came over to where I was standing. I wasn’t looking at them, but I could hear them talking to me, their voices buzzing around me from every direction.

“Detective? Hello? Are you still there, sir?”

The phone was still at my ear, but when I opened my mouth to reply, no words came out. I felt light-headed. The room swirled around me.  I lost my balance and fell hard to the floor.

Lafitte helped me sit up. I frantically reached for my phone.

“I will be in Jamaica tomorrow afternoon. And yes, I know who your killer is.”

“If we’re going to have any success in catching dis maniac we will need your help, Detective Porter.”

“I know. I have your cell phone here in my call log. I will call you first thing tomorrow, Mr. Dixon, to give you my travel plans. I’ll want you to meet my team and me when we land.”

I hung up and realized I still hadn’t moved. I was seated on the floor, my legs crossed under me, the bowling ball I’d dropped still at my feet.

“David, honey, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Miranda asked. I could see panic all over her face.

“Yes. I mean . . . no. I don’t really know,” I said, befuddled.

“David, who was that? You’re scaring us, man,” Lafitte said.

“A detective from Jamaica. It looks like the three of us will be heading to the island tomorrow. The files we found . . . the abortion . . . I guess Stacy didn’t go through with it after all. A man and his wife killed a couple last night in Jamaica. They left a note for me, and they warned there would be more.”

“How do you know Stacy didn’t get that abortion, David? What does that have to do with the killings in Jamaica?” Lafitte asked.

I heard the question, and even though my mind processed the answer, I said nothing. The words were stuck in my throat. I just sat there, staring off into no-man’s-land. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I answered.

“Because the killer is my son.”

As if the complexities of stalking a cold-blooded murderer weren’t already daunting enough, hunting a murderous son who wants you dead took things to a level I wasn’t sure I could handle. In an instant my worst nightmare had become a mind-numbing reality. There was no forensic psychology book out there to help me with this one. I was literally writing the book myself—and I was scared shitless.

Part 3 of the Trilogy!

See how it all ends…

Coming Winter 2016

Turn the page for a sneak peek!

Prologue

Houston, Texas 1 a.m.

Watching video surveillance of a man who would be dead in thirty minutes but had no idea he was about to die was eerie. Caleb sat in their motel room anxiously waiting for
go
time. His stomach growled so loud he could hear it. It was close to lunch time, and he hadn’t eaten anything all day. He couldn’t eat, not right now. Action, danger, excitement—all made him way too jittery to eat, so he didn’t. He stared at the monitor in front of him. It was one of three that surrounded him. Marci, sitting ten feet from him, was surrounded by three monitors as well. Every detail of their plan had been perfectly set in motion. Now it was time to watch the actors play out the scene.

Caleb got up and stood behind Marci. He stared at her for a second. He’d learned almost everything he knew from Marci, and he loved her dearly. He bent down and gave her a long, deep kiss, sneaking a quick feel in the process.

Marci smiled and pushed Caleb away. “Hey! Stay focused, you sexy man.”

The fact that Marci was twenty years his senior didn’t matter to Caleb. He didn’t know if he liked older women in general or just this older woman in particular.

Caleb ruffled Marci’s hair and smiled.

“Okay. It’s noon straight up. Let’s do this,” he said.

He put on his headset and dialed a number using a burner phone. He gave Marci the thumbs-up.

“Hello? Officer Patton speaking.”

“Officer Patton, good afternoon. My name is . . . well, it doesn’t matter what my name is. I need you to listen very closely to every detail I’m about to tell you. One mistake could be fatal. Okay?”