Pitch Black (15 page)
A
FTER SHE SENT ETHAN TO TAKE A SHOWER, Madison had second thoughts about calling Gabe. What if Ethan was right? What if no one believed him without someone to back him up?
Tomorrow was Sunday, visiting day for Jordan. She decided to wait to have Ethan talk to Gabe. She and Ethan would go see Jordan tomorrow, see if he was improving enough to substantiate how everything happened. If he was, great, things should sort themselves out quickly. If it looked like he was making progress, then they’d wait a few more days and hope that progress continued. If not . . . she tried not to think about the rough road ahead if Jordan remained totally uncommunicative.
Perhaps Ethan’s visit would be helpful to Jordan’s state of mind. Maybe it would be the springboard for recovery. She held hope.
In any case, they’d waited this long to tell his story, a few more days couldn’t make things much worse. It was worth the risk to keep this train from heading down the wrong track; they needed Jordan’s corroboration.
GABE SAT AT HIS DESK
, staring at the bag containing the green knit cap. He’d just returned to his office from the conference room where he’d taken statements from Mr. and Mrs. Arbuckle separately. Neither one of them could remember if Colin had been wearing a hat when he’d left home last night. In fact, neither one of them could remember what he’d been wearing at all.
They’d each become righteously indignant when Gabe mentioned the beer cans, insisting Colin would never, ever do such a thing. He was a good Christian boy. Mr. Arbuckle had added the indisputable fact that just because the cans were in the vicinity didn’t mean his son had been drinking. Anyone could have left them there.
Gabe had nodded and put the subject away. Once they got the fingerprint analysis and blood alcohol level back, the truth, whatever it was, would be undeniable.
This would be one hell of a coincidence if it was as simple as an inexperienced drinker consuming too much and falling over the bridge rail; especially when that drinker was one of the four people on the mountain when Steve McPherson died.
Gabe didn’t believe in coincidences.
Could Colin have been drinking to drown his guilt? Had he had something to do with McPherson’s murder?
Picking up the bag holding the metal button, Gabe held it up to the light. Diesel brand. Pretty pricey for most kids around here. And Colin hadn’t had on a denim jacket, or jeans for that matter. He’d been wearing athletic pants and two sweatshirts layered over a white T-shirt.
Maybe the button wasn’t connected. He’d still send it off for fingerprint testing along with the beer cans. Of course, that report would take a day or so.
And until then, he had nothing at all to directly tie Ethan to this scene. He prayed it stayed that way.
SUNDAY MORNING ARRIVED
after a long, sleepless night. Madison and Ethan went silently about their morning routines surrounded by a volatile and unstable atmosphere. Madison kept her words to a minimum, unable to shake the impression that opening the subject that occupied her mind would spark an everlasting chain reaction that would blow apart the rest of their lives.
And truly, there was nothing new to say . . . not until after they’d been to see Jordan.
During the drive to Knoxville, Ethan remained quiet; the kind of quiet that gave off a conspicuous and contagious tension. It had crept across the car and invaded Madison’s every muscle until her neck and shoulders ached with it. She flexed her fingers to relax their too-tight grip on the steering wheel.
At twelve-thirty, they pulled into the parking lot of Pleasant Hill Stress Center and passed Kate and Todd pulling out. Kate had such a cheerful expression on her face that Madison had to believe Jordan was improving. Hope warmed her chest. She waved, but they must not have seen her; her Saab didn’t stick out nearly as much in Knoxville as it did in Buckeye.
Once inside the main entrance of the facility, they had to sign a visitors log and then wait to be escorted to Jordan’s room. As they sat in the lobby, which was designed with a gently burbling water fountain and soothing colors, Ethan became fidgety. He sat bouncing his heels, setting his knees into a jittery dance. All of that frenetic motion grated against Madison’s frayed nerves. She reached over and briefly laid a hand on his knee.
His legs stilled. “Sorry,” he whispered. It was the first time he’d spoken in hours.
A young woman appeared and asked, “You’re here to see Jordan Gray?”
“Yes,” Madison said as she and Ethan simultaneously shot to their feet. This felt more like a court appearance than a hospital visit.
“I’m Vanessa. I’ll take you to his room.”
Madison fell in step beside the woman, while Ethan trailed behind.
They followed a carpeted hallway until they reached a desk beside a door with wire-reinforced glass in the upper half.
Vanessa said, “I’ll have to ask you to leave your purse and jacket here.”
Madison handed over her purse to the security attendant behind the desk, then took off her jacket and gave it over as well. Ethan wasn’t wearing a jacket.
The security officer stood up behind the desk and held out a small plastic basket. He nodded to Ethan’s cargo pants. “Please put any pocketknives, nail clippers, pens, pencils, over-the-counter or prescription drugs that you have in your pockets in here.”
“I don’t have any.”
The security officer’s gaze moved to Madison, as if to confirm Ethan was telling the truth. It pissed her off, but she nodded. What made her incapable of lying if Ethan wasn’t trustworthy?
“All right,” the officer said to Vanessa.
She then punched a security code into a panel beside the door. It buzzed and she pulled it open.
As they started down the hall, this one tiled, not carpeted, Vanessa said, “Jordan’s mother and brother just left a few minutes ago to get lunch. They’ll be back shortly, in case you want to visit with them, too.”
Madison didn’t comment. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to see Kate right now, not with the bombshell they were about to drop.
Vanessa stopped outside a partially closed door. “It’s been a good day for Jordan. The more you talk to him the better. Just push the call button next to his bed if you need anything.”
Madison thanked the woman. After she walked away, Madison gave Ethan a bolstering look. He paused only a second, then gave her a resolute nod and pushed the door open.
ETHAN DIDN’T KNOW
what he expected after the lady said Jordan was having a “good day,” but it wasn’t what he saw when he walked into the room. He felt just a little sick to his stomach.
Jordan was dressed and sitting in a chair; that part was normal enough. But he still looked out of it, zoned to another planet.
The TV was on. Tuned to football. Now that really pissed Ethan off.
He reached for the remote and changed it to the Discovery Channel.
“There,” he said. “That’s better.”
Maddie said, “I agree. I just love this channel. Don’t you, Jordan?”
Man, M sounded just like she was talking to a normal person. He looked at Jordan—who was at least blinking his eyes.
As much as he’d wanted to get here, Ethan suddenly wanted just as much to take off. He didn’t want to talk to a cardboard Jordan. He wanted his friend back.
He took a deep breath and sat down in a chair that sat at an angle to Jordan’s. Todd’s baseball cap was hanging on the back of it. It was turned enough that he could look Jordan pretty much in the face and still see the TV.
Maddie sat in the chair on Jordan’s other side and made some comment about the show. It was about polar bears. There were a couple of cubs rolling around in the snow.
Jordan’s eyes were definitely looking at the TV. Ethan saw the corner of his mouth quirk, as if he was about to smile. Ethan searched for something to say, but felt more stupid making a conversation by himself this time than when he’d first seen Jordan at the hospital. That first day, it was different; it was temporary. Now . . . it felt like an alien had taken over his friend’s body. It felt like Jordan was really gone for good.
Maddie laughed. “Oh, Jordan! Did you see that? Those cubs crack me up.”
Jordan’s lips moved slightly.
“Yeah,” Ethan said, trying to sound as normal as M, “just look at that little guy jumping all over the big one’s head.”
Jordan didn’t say anything, nor did he look directly at them, but there was something different in his eyes. He seemed less . . . plastic.
MADISON SAW THE TINY SHIFT
in Jordan’s demeanor. She decided to step out for a while and see if Ethan had more success talking to him without an adult around.
“I’m going to get a cup of coffee. You boys visit and I’ll be right back.” She looked at Ethan, giving him a nod to continue talking.
Panic bloomed in his eyes. She held his gaze and said, “I’m sure you boys have plenty to talk about.”
Ethan managed his first sentence, sounding only a little shaky. She cast him an encouraging smile and left the room.
She stood in the hall for a few minutes, debating on whether or not to actually leave and get that coffee. She decided to hang close, just in case Ethan needed her.
Leaning against the wall beside the door, she listened to the muted narration of the television, occasionally joined by the murmur of Ethan’s voice. She sent up a silent prayer that this alone time would allow the security of friendship to coax Jordan closer to communicating.
Suddenly, Ethan’s voice rose, panic lacing it. “What? What’s wrong?”
Madison pushed the door open, hurrying in and closing it behind her. If Jordan was talking, she didn’t want a nurse to burst in here and interrupt.
Jordan’s horrified gaze was on the television. The theme of the program shifted to polar bear survival. The screen was filled with a kill, the brilliant white snow showing a large crimson stain.
A thin whine came from deep in Jordan’s throat.
He looked straight at Ethan and started to yell, “He didn’t mean to do it!”
Ethan had pushed his chair backward, away from Jordan. His face held nearly as much horror as Jordan’s.
AFTER MADDIE CAME RUSHING
in, she looked at the TV and then at Jordan.
“He didn’t mean to,” Jordan cried more softly. “It was an accident . . . an accident . . .”
Madison didn’t seem afraid; she leaned closer to Jordan. “Who didn’t mean to, Jordan? Are you talking about your stepdad? Are you talking about Steve?”
Jordan drew his feet up on the chair, pressing his knees to his chest. “It was an accident . . . ohhh . . . Stop!” he shouted. “Stoooooop!” His face was twisted with fear as he yelled.
Vanessa came bolting through the door. “What happened?” She headed straight for Jordan, who had buried his face against his knees.
Ethan couldn’t make any words come out of his mouth.
Maddie said, “We were watching the Discovery Channel. When the scene changed”—she nodded toward the TV where the bear feast continued—“I didn’t get to the remote fast enough.”
Ethan could hardly believe his ears, M was lying. She hadn’t made a move for the remote.
Vanessa placed herself directly in front of Jordan. “Shut off that TV,” she said to Ethan, then began speaking softly to Jordan.
She asked Maddie, “Did he say anything, or just scream?”
Ethan watched M’s face as she said, “Just started screaming.” He couldn’t even tell she was lying by looking at her. She’d always been all about truth and trust. He couldn’t believe it.
Jordan was quieter now and had stopped screaming. He kept his face hidden and continued to cry.
Vanessa turned to Madison and said, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. This looks like a breakthrough. I’ll page his doctor right away.”
“Of course.” Maddie motioned for Ethan to follow her out.
He took one last look at Jordan. He wanted to say something to make him feel better, something to help him not be scared.
He just wished he knew what that could be.
When they stepped out into the hallway, they ran into Todd and Mrs. McPherson.
Mrs. McPherson looked angry when she saw them. “What are you doing here?”
“We were just visiting Jordan,” Madison answered.
Kate McPherson cast a worried look toward Jordan’s room. His muffled cries drifted into the hall. “What did you do to him? He was doing so much better!”
Her accusing glare felt like a knife through Ethan’s gut. He stammered, “Nothing . . . we—”
“
You
”—she jabbed a finger at him, making Ethan take a step back—“shouldn’t be here!”
Todd put a hand on Kate’s elbow. “Take it easy, Kate. I’m sure they didn’t do anything.”
She jerked her elbow away.
“Todd’s right; we were just watching TV with him.” Maddie looked as surprised as Ethan felt.
But Mrs. McPherson wasn’t looking at Maddie. She was looking at Ethan—and it appeared that she wanted to tear his head off.
Why was she so pissed at him?
Maddie said, “Kate, Vanessa said she felt like this was a breakthrough. Jordan
is
getting better.”
Mrs. McPherson jerked around to face Maddie. “You! None of this would have happened if you’d stayed up north where you belong!”
Todd put his arm around her and pulled her away. “Let’s go see Jordan.”
“I don’t want them near him. Never again.”
“Shhh,” Todd said. “We don’t want to upset Jordan more.”
As he took her into Jordan’s room, he looked back and mouthed, “Sorry.”
“What was that all about?” Ethan asked Maddie quietly as soon as Mrs. McPherson was out of sight. “Why was she so mad at me?”
“Let’s get out of here.” The fact that she’d lied back in Jordan’s room, coupled with that tone in her voice, started the wheels in his head turning.
At that moment it clicked . . . and he was scared shitless.
E
THAN HAD SURVIVED by his abilities to read people and situations. He was a remarkably astute kid—which could sometimes be a real pain in the ass. On the drive home he had repeatedly tried to get her to say out loud what they were both thinking. And Madison had repeatedly avoided saying it.
As soon as they walked into the house, she said, “Go on up to your room. Finish your homework.”
He gave her a stony glare. “Come on, M. Stop treating me like a kid.”
“You are a kid. Go do your homework.”
“I don’t have any.” The
take-that
tone of his voice set her further on edge.
“Then go take a shower.”
“I know what everyone’s thinking,” he said gruffly. “Stop trying to pretend you don’t.”
“Ethan.” She gritted her teeth. “Just go upstairs for a while. I need some time.”
With a huff, he stomped up the stairs, muttering, “Why would this be different? Everybody always blames me. . . . ”
She closed her eyes and wished Ethan was suffering from normal teenage skewed perception. Unfortunately, in this case she was becoming frighteningly aware that his assessment was dead-on.
She needed to think; to formulate a plan.
The realization that Kate McPherson had somehow gotten it in her head that Ethan was responsible for her husband’s death and her son’s mental state had hit Madison with the force of a speeding bus.
Had Kate taken the offensive—either knowingly or subconsciously—realizing that sooner or later her husband’s abusive attitude would come to light? Was she on the attack to prevent her own son from being accused? A mother’s instinct to protect was a force of nature.
Madison paced between living room and kitchen until daylight began to fade. As the corners of the room gathered gloom, her mood followed suit. She needed to take a lesson from Kate. Be proactive. Get a handle on this before the situation grew a life of its own.
How best to do that? That was the question she’d really been avoiding, because the answer was as glaring as if it were written in neon letters. And it meant putting at risk any possible future relationship with Gabe Wyatt.
She had made the firm decision to keep her association with him casual and professional, at least until this entire situation resolved itself. But with the ground shifting beneath her feet, she decided, for Ethan’s sake, she had to take advantage wherever she could.
She picked up the phone and dialed Gabe’s number.
Once that call had been made, she called Ethan downstairs.
He came dragging down the steps, looking as if he’d been asleep. Sleeping or not, she could see the edge of anger was still running strong.
“All right, I’ve called Ga—Sheriff Wyatt. I want you to tell him what happened to Mr. McPherson.”
“Okay.” He looked at her with confusion. “But Jordan can’t back me up.”
“I know. But the best way to contain what could very easily get out of hand is to tell the sheriff everything now, before he has to come with a subpoena to get it.”
“‘Out of hand’?” His sarcasm was sharp. “Looks to me like things are already there.”
She took a deep breath and tried to focus on what mattered, that Kate’s reaction wasn’t based on truth. “We’re still outsiders here. Believe me when I tell you, people will go a long way to prove their assessment of a person’s character isn’t wrong; particularly in a small community like this—and especially if you
married
that person.” She held his gaze. It was clear he understood. “Everyone knew Steve McPherson; the general impression of him was that he was a great guy. The people in this town
don’t
know us. When push comes to shove, I want the law on our side.
“But before the sheriff gets here, I want to make certain you’ve told me everything—you haven’t left anything out, no matter how insignificant you think it might be.”
“I told you everything.” His posture stiffened. “You don’t believe me?”
“I do. I just need to make sure I have all the facts. Especially with Colin’s accident now.”
“What does Colin’s accident have to do with it?”
“I don’t know that it has anything to do with it. But you can be sure the police are going to be looking for a link. Good investigators don’t believe in coincidence. And public opinion won’t need facts to create a link.”
Ethan looked away and blew out a breath that puffed his cheeks. He took a swipe through his hair. “Maybe Jordan will be able to tell his doctor what happened. That would fix everything. The lady said he was having a breakthrough.”
“Ethan”—she stepped closer—“just because he remembers and can talk, doesn’t mean he’ll tell. It’s going to be hard for him to admit what he did. He’s going to be afraid.”
“But if Mr. McP was hurting him—”
“Yes, well, Jordan’s the only one who’ll be able to corroborate that, isn’t he? And I’m not sure his mother will be receptive to that line of thinking.”
He had a sharp intake of breath. “That’s why you didn’t tell Vanessa that Jordan had talked! You’re afraid his mom will—”
“We can’t be certain of all that’s going on in Mrs. McPherson’s mind right now. She’s grieving. Not thinking clearly. But it’s important we tell the sheriff
everything
today.”
Ethan nodded nervously.
“You’ve told me everything?”
He paused, as if going over the entire thing in his mind. “Yes.”
“All right, then. Get yourself something to eat. Sheriff Wyatt will be here in a half-hour.”
As she watched Ethan go into the kitchen, Madison thought about Jordan’s outburst. She’d gone over the scene forward and backward a thousand times. One thing kept sticking in her craw. Jordan had said, “
He
didn’t mean to do it.”
He,
not
I.
Madison hoped with all of her heart that he didn’t repeat that phrase to anyone else.
GABE ALWAYS REFUSED TO GO TO BED
before dark—no matter what kind of night and day he’d had. That was why he’d been sound asleep on the couch in the living room when Maddie had called him on his cell phone. He’d been so far gone that it had taken him a moment to realize where he was and what had awakened him.
The second he’d heard the troubled tone in her voice, he’d snapped fully awake. She’d been cryptic enough that his worry was now growing each minute as he traveled to her house.
The somber picture she presented when she opened the door did nothing to quell his rising concern. Her undisguised anxiety, so uncharacteristic of her, made him reach out and take her by the shoulders.
“What’s happened?”
He felt her lean slightly forward, as if momentarily giving in to a need for comfort, before she stepped back out of his reach.
“Ethan wants to tell you what happened on the mountain.” Her grim expression made him want to turn around and walk back out the door.
“All right,” he said, his voice rasping in his suddenly dry throat.
After this, he thought, there would be no turning away from his suspicions, no avoiding conclusions because he didn’t have solid evidence. And Maddie looked grave enough to tell him that this was not going to be good.
The three of them sat down at Maddie’s round glass-topped kitchen table. Gabe listened without interrupting as Ethan explained why he’d formed the theory that Steve McPherson had been mentally and perhaps physically abusive toward his stepson. He gave more details, fleshing out what Maddie had already told Gabe at Killroy’s.
The picture Ethan painted certainly didn’t fit the Steve McPherson Gabe knew. But he wasn’t a fool; things weren’t always what they appeared to be.
Then Ethan went through the events of Saturday afternoon on the mountain. Again, Gabe held his questions until the boy had finished. It appeared to be painful in the telling. Ethan’s hands fidgeted nervously the entire time and his voice cracked when he described the scene he returned to after walking back from his climb up the falls.
Finally, he finished. He’d given just enough detail, without elaborating so much as to appear he’d been fabricating. He hadn’t worked to convince, simply walked Gabe through the events.
It appeared the boy was telling the truth—or he was a very skilled liar.
Gabe asked, “What route did you take back to the falls?”
“I went south and looped around.”
“Why south?” It was longer and more difficult. “You had to go up before you could come back down. It would have been easier and a whole lot faster to go north.”
“I didn’t want to get too close to camp. I didn’t want Mr. McP to know I’d been climbing when he’d told us not to do stuff like that.” The kid’s answer came quickly and sincerely.
“And how long were you gone, leaving Jordan alone?”
Ethan chewed his lip for a moment. “Maybe twenty or thirty minutes.”
Gabe questioned him about the whereabouts of the other two boys.
“I guess they were in camp the whole time. After I found Mr. McP, I ran halfway back there yelling and that’s the direction they came from.”
Twenty or thirty minutes would have been more than enough time for one or both of the other boys to have made it to Black Rock Falls and back to the campsite. But that left the question of what possible motive could they have had to kill McPherson?
Gabe had to admit, Jordan acting in self-defense was sounding pretty credible. Both Colin and J.D. had said that McPherson was angry when he left camp to look for Jordan and Ethan.
“When you found Jordan, did he have a rock or anything in his hand he could have used to hit his stepfather?”
Ethan shook his head slowly. “He had blood on his hands . . . but he wasn’t holding anything.” He paused. “He never would have done anything like that unless he was protecting himself. He was afraid of everything; he can’t even kill spiders.”
Maddie had been silent the entire time. Gabe looked at her. “You have anything to add?”
She shook her head. Strain showed in the corded muscles of her neck. Her hands were grasped so tightly together that her fingers blanched. He resisted reaching over and putting a hand over hers, unclenching those fists and soothing the tension in her neck.
Things were going to get a whole lot more uncomfortable before this was put to rest. No one in this town was going to want to believe the man they’d trusted with their kids was capable of abusing his own stepson. And unless Jordan recovered and admitted everything, it was going to be a hard public sell. Both Ethan’s and Maddie’s lives were going to be very unpleasant and difficult for the foreseeable future.
“Ethan, I’ll need you to come to the office tomorrow to make a formal statement.”
“Okay. Can M be with me?”
“I’d prefer it. That way there will be no question afterward about how the information was obtained.”
Maddie recoiled slightly, her gaze cutting him like a whip. She was worldwise enough to know the game—as well as the stakes.
Gabe added, “And you can have a lawyer present if you choose.”
“Why would I need a lawyer?” Ethan asked in a panicky voice.
“It would only be for your comfort. All we’ll be doing is recording everything you told me today.”
“Okay.”
Maddie remained silent.
Gabe said, “Is there anything about Colin that you’d like to tell me now?”
Ethan’s head tilted slightly. “What do you mean?”
“Does Colin’s accident have anything to do with what happened last weekend?”
“I don’t know anything about Colin’s accident. Period.”
Gabe laced his fingers together on the table in front of him. “Now’s the time to step up with anything you think could be relevant.”
“Nothing. There’s nothing.” There was just enough hesitation in Ethan’s response for Gabe to note it. Was there something? Or was Ethan simply searching his memory to be sure?
“Thank you, Ethan.” He stood and offered a handshake. “You’ve done the right thing.”
Ethan shook his hand, but looked miserable . . . like a boy who’d betrayed a friend’s trust.
Gabe said, “I’d like to talk to Maddie for a bit, if you don’t mind.”
The boy left the room with obvious relief.
Gabe sat back down.
Maddie looked at him. “So?”
Gabe massaged the back of his neck. “I’m going to have to do some work on this. It’s hard to believe a kid like Jordan could take down a man the size of Steve McPherson. There may be some of the forensic studies that’ll help corroborate it, but I’m not holding my breath.”
The temperature in the kitchen dropped about ten degrees. Maddie’s cold hostility and tense posture said more than words ever could.
“You think he’s making this up?” she finally said.
“No. I’m saying he didn’t actually witness the murder, so, given the characters in the scene, it’s going to be hard to make this scenario fly.” He paused. “Unless, of course, Jordan confirms everything.”
Somewhere, whispering deep in Gabe’s mind, was another scenario. One not so far from the picture Ethan had painted—and yet drastically different. Gabe feared that if this was anyone but Maddie’s son, he’d be listening a whole lot more intently to that whisper.
“How likely do you imagine that’s going to be?”
“When those boys came off the mountain, they said Jordan said it was an accident. Maybe he believes it was. With his current mental state—”
“He’s improving. We saw him today. Maybe you’ll be able to question him this week.”
“That would be a welcome miracle. Still, an accident is one blow, not a dozen. A dozen is rage.” He ran a finger across his lips, trying to align the facts. “Which could be consistent with defense against long-term abuse.” He sat in silence for a moment, then asked the question that had to be asked. “Is there anything in Ethan’s past that will crop up and work against him?”
Her gaze sharpened. “What do you mean?”
“Like I said, all we have is Ethan’s supposition about what happened. No witnesses. No evidence to speak of. You know the crap that crawls out from under the carpet in cases like this. Is there anything to impugn his testimony?”
“You mean other than having been poor and homeless and from up north? Not the pillar of the community that Steve McPherson the child beater was?” Sarcasm lanced her words.
