Pitch Black (24 page)
G
ABE SAT IN Coach Lawrence’s office, ignoring the phone vibrating on his belt. He listened as sophomore Cory Woodbine inched closer to divulging the local source of the steroids.
Gabe had come to the high school personally, taking precious time away from his murder investigation, because he was concerned for Maddie’s safety. He supposed from a law enforcement perspective, he should thank her for her gritty determination to expose this danger to the youth of Buckeye no matter how unpopular or how nasty the local response got. Whoever thought she would be altered from her course by threats and close calls didn’t know Maddie.
She wasn’t going to stop. So Gabe had to stop whoever was going after her. The thought of someone out there stalking her—someone whose tactics had recently taken a direct and violent turn—made Gabe sick, and interfered severely with his concentration.
Cory Woodbine offered the first positive step Gabe had had in that direction. Moved by teenage deaths and fear of discovery after Maddie’s articles, Cory had come forward and confessed his own steroid use to his football coach. When Coach Lawrence had called Gabe, Gabe had assured him that there would be no legal action against this boy if he told where he’d gotten the drugs.
Cory’s fingers drummed on the arm of the chair and his eyes kept darting to the small window in the door to the coach’s office.
Gabe said, “Coach Lawrence locked the outer locker room doors. No one can get in.”
Cory shifted in his seat, then looked at Gabe. “Coach said I won’t get in trouble.”
“That’s right. As long as your parents know about your use, nobody else has to.”
The boy’s eyes snapped up. “You’re gonna tell my parents?”
“No. You are. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”
Drawing in a deep breath and releasing it noisily through his nose, Cory nodded.
“And I want your assurance that you’re not using any longer.”
“Hell, no!” He stopped himself. “I mean, heck no. I’d only started a few weeks ago. I just wanted to bulk up for football season. I didn’t know they could kill you.”
The boy looked scared enough that Gabe believed him.
Cory licked his lips. “I don’t know the dude’s name—the one who gets the stuff. It’s all done without contact. You drop a DVD case with your name and cash inside at the video store. You’re supposed to Scotch-tape the case closed. The next day, you pick up your stash and your case at the drop point.”
This was one smart dealer. None of his customers could ID him.
“Where’s the drop point?” Gabe asked.
“Everybody has a different one. That way no one can lift your drugs.”
“Does your dealer know you’ve stopped?”
Cory shook his head. “He’s not expecting another order from me until next week.”
“Would you be willing to place that order and tell me your drop point?”
“No way, dude—I mean, sir. He’d know it was me who ratted him out.”
“Do you think he works at the video store?”
The boy shrugged. “Doubt it. He’s way too secretive and smart. Probably has somebody there who passes stuff along.”
There was a knock at the door. Cory nearly jumped high enough to hang from the ceiling.
“It’s okay. It’s Coach with your parents.”
Cory sprang from his chair, horror on his face. “You brought my parents!”
“Would you rather I had driven you home in my department vehicle and escorted you to the front door?”
“No. But why’d you have to bring them here? I said I’d tell them.”
Gabe gave the boy a half-smile. “I was a teenager once myself,
dude.
” He got up and let a very angry-looking Mr. and Mrs. Woodbine into Coach Lawrence’s office.
“THERE’S NO FOOD IN THE HOUSE
; you want to stop at Augustino’s for pizza?” M asked as they finally left the newspaper office.
“Can we carry out?” Ethan asked.
“Let’s eat there. We need to stop at the store on the way home or there won’t be any milk and cereal for breakfast in the morning, either.”
They got in the rental car—a reminder of how much everyone in this town hated him.
“If we’re stopping at the store anyway,” he said, once they were inside the car, “why don’t we get something to fix for dinner, too?”
M gave one of those annoying sighs. “Because I’m tired and hungry and don’t want to cook and clean up the kitchen. What’s the big deal? You love Augustino’s.”
The big deal was that it was Wednesday night. Augustino’s was always packed on Wednesday night. Ethan didn’t want to sit around and be everyone’s entertainment. Didn’t M know that everyone was talking about him? He’d just been thrown out of school, for Christ’s sake.
“I
used
to love Augustino’s,” he corrected. “Now I don’t like anything about this town.”
She made a sympathetic sound. “I know it’s hard. But this is all going to be straightened out soon and we can go on with our lives.”
Jesus, even she didn’t sound like she believed that line. He slumped down in the seat and stared out the window. Maybe someday she could forget all of this, but he never would—and nobody in this town would, either. His one chance at a normal life was shot. And if he stayed around here, he’d just bring M down with him.
M pulled into the parking lot at Augustino’s. Ethan thought about refusing to get out, but what did it matter now?
As they were walking in the door, a horn honked behind them. Ethan turned to see Sheriff Wyatt pulling to the curb and getting out of his Jeep Cherokee.
M said, “I have something to tell the sheriff. Why don’t you go on in and order for us? I’ll be right behind you.”
Now she was sending him to face the crowd alone. He didn’t argue, just went on and opened the door. Several people were waiting for tables. As he walked past them to put their name in with the hostess, Ethan heard his name mentioned more than once.
He ground his teeth to keep from yelling at them to shut up and mind their own business.
After finding out it would be a twenty-minute wait, he hunched his shoulders and headed toward the bathroom. At least there he could lock himself in a stall and wouldn’t have to hear the whispers or put up with the looks.
Before he even made it inside a stall, someone behind him said, “Ethan!”
He turned to see Jordan’s brother, Todd, slipping inside the door to the men’s room and locking it behind him.
For a split second, Ethan’s muscles tightened, ready to face a fight.
Then Todd smiled. “I’m so glad I ran into you, man.”
Ethan kept a wary posture. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I wanted to warn you.”
“Of what?”
“My stepmom has this crazy idea that you killed my dad. I can’t get it out of her head.”
“And you don’t?” Ethan asked.
“Hell, no. Why would you? You’re getting the shaft just ’cause you’re not from around here.”
Someone was finally seeing the logic of the truth. Ethan didn’t respond, waiting to see what else Todd had to say.
“Anyway, she’s crazy. She’s been making phone calls to the DA and all kinds of crap. I can’t get her to listen to reason. But she’s finally gone too far. Jordan started talking—and she’s convinced him to say you’re the one who killed Dad. It’s only a matter of time. If I were you, I’d be taking off tonight.”
“Why do you give a crap if they fry me?” Ethan asked.
Todd looked at Ethan as if he suddenly thought Ethan had turned stupid. “Because that’ll mean the
real killer
got away. I want whoever murdered my dad to pay.” He briefly put a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “And because you’re Jordan’s friend. My brother needs you.”
Ethan didn’t say anything.
“They’re gonna railroad you, dude.”
“If I take off, they’re just gonna come looking for me.”
“Yeah, but you’re good at staying out of sight when you need to. You wouldn’t have made it all those years without being stuck in foster care otherwise.
“If you go, it’ll give me time to push them to look for the real murderer. Shit, if I was you, I’d have been long gone already just out of fear that the murderer was gonna take me out like he did Colin. You know, J.D. took off yesterday.”
Ethan thought about the photos in his locker. Whoever killed Mr. McP probably
was
gunning for him. If he stayed here, that’d put M at that much more risk of being hurt in the process. She’d already had a close call because of him. What if she really got hurt or worse next time?
“Thanks.” He walked past Todd, unwilling to give up anything, unwilling to put full trust in Todd’s motives.
Once Ethan reached the door, Todd said, “I’m just trying to help. If you want a ride somewhere so they can’t start tracing you right away, meet me out by the bridge on Settlers Road at two tomorrow morning. It’s the least traveled road that’ll get you to the highway, so use it—with, or without me.”
Ethan turned the lock.
“I’ll be there,” Todd said. “You show or not, it’s up to you.”
Ethan walked out the door without answering.
GABE WAITED FOR ETHAN
to enter the pizza place before he said, “I was just pulling up your number to return your call, then I looked up and there you were.”
The second he’d laid eyes on her, he’d felt like a little kid looking at a carnival; his eyes mesmerized by the motion of the brightly colored lights, his pulse racing with anticipation, and his insides bracing themselves for excitement. For that brief second, it didn’t matter that he and Maddie had parted badly. It didn’t matter that this case was like a giant anchor around both of their necks. It was a rush of pure, untainted emotion. He wanted to grasp it and hold tight.
But he wasn’t a little kid. Life wasn’t a carnival. And this case might just kill any hopes of ever having a relationship with this woman.
She stepped away from the door, drawing him with her to the side of the building away from the parking lot. There was such an excited spark in her eyes that Gabe felt a rush of gladness. He saw no trace of the cold tension of their last meeting.
After taking a single look over his shoulder to make sure no one could see them from the street, he stepped very close and looked down at her. Their bodies were just short of touching and he could feel it in every one of his cells. She was like a magnetic pull that his physical being had no power to resist.
Not that he wanted to resist.
For a long moment she smiled at him, looking as if she held the answer to his prayers.
Before responsible thought intervened, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. She didn’t draw away, as responsible thought would have dictated. Instead her mouth welcomed his and her body pressed closer.
Dear God in heaven, how could a simple stolen kiss reach right to the center of his being and set him on fire?
This had to stop. What if someone saw them? They were on a tightwire here, and Ethan was the one who would suffer if either of them took a misstep.
As if Maddie’s reason returned in tandem with his, she pulled back. Her lips were rosy and moist from their kiss. His thoughts slipped right back to their irresponsible ways and he mentally listed the places he’d like to feel those lips on his body.
She caught her lower lip between her teeth, as if keeping excited words from tumbling out too quickly. Grasping his arm with one hand, she said, “I’ve got good news. My private investigator just called me with information that backs up our theory that McPherson was abusing Jordan.”
Gabe felt just a little deflated, realizing the delighted gleam in her eye wasn’t there because of passion he’d stirred.
She looked as if she was dangling the bait in front of the tiger.
He brushed off his bruised male ego. This is what made her tick; the challenge of the hunt for information, the thrill of little victories when she discovered what she was after. It was why she was so good at her job.
“And?” he finally prompted.
“One of the McPhersons’ Ann Arbor neighbors still lives across the street from their old house. They told my guy that they were suspicious something wasn’t right in the McPherson house for months before the Mrs. died. Cheryl seemed exceptionally withdrawn and skittish those last weeks.”
Gabe held himself back from snatching her off her feet and spinning in a circle. He had to be reasonable, examine with an impartial eye. “It’s always easy for people to say stuff like that after the fact. They read things differently in retrospect.”
“I thought people always said the opposite. You know, the serial killer next door was such a nice, quiet guy, they never imagined he was a monster.”
“Yeah, that, too. My point being, general statements like those, made
after
something has already happened, don’t carry a lot of weight. Did any of these people report their suspicions to the police
before
Mrs. McPherson died?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and looked sharply at him. “Seriously?”
“I’m just saying . . . ”
“I know what you’re saying. And believe me, I’ve had enough experience to get it. But
my
point is this is yet another straw on that camel’s back. My guy also discovered that Todd was institutionalized for three months after his mother’s death. He couldn’t get the health records, but it was a stress center . . . a facility much like the one Jordan is in now. Quite the coincidence that both of McPherson’s kids needed psychological treatment.”
“Any kid who came home and found his mother dead at the bottom of the stairs might need some help.”
“No kidding. Especially if that kid had also witnessed his dad knocking his mom around before that.”
“This still isn’t helping us find a suspect other than Jordan and Ethan,” he said gravely.
“Not yet. We’re just not able to put this patchwork together into a coherent pattern. But we will. My guy is still digging. Maybe McPherson picked on somebody else along the way. Somebody who struck back. It opens up the door to all sorts of possibilities.”
Gabe shook his head. “I’m not seeing it. Who would climb up there and hunt the man down? Who would take a chance on having the opportunity to get the guy alone and make it look like an accident?”
