The Wreck (37 page)

Nathan shook his head. “He produced bank
statements that prove he made a deposit in Jefferson City on the same day Tanya
Lewis was attacked. There was an ATM withdrawal in New York City on the day
Alicia Perry disappeared.”

“Tanya couldn’t pick him out of a photo
lineup, either.”

Nathan punched the wall. “We just
cannot
catch a fucking break on this one.”

“I’ve started sifting through Sam’s
class. I can’t believe I didn’t think to do that sooner. I was just so sure
this was about Carly and Brian.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, Mike. Nothing
about this case has been routine.”

“What’s happening with Lowell?”

“His parents got him a lawyer, and
Woonsocket is sorting out the details with the warrant.”

“I wanted it to be him,” Michael said,
rubbing at the stubble on his jaw. “I
need
to know who took my son from
me and why.” He glanced at the FBI agent who had become his friend. “I think I
could kill whoever it is without blinking an eye. Does that make me a bad cop?”

“No. It makes you a father. Anyone who’d
been through what you have would feel the same way.”

Michael expelled a deep, rattling breath.

Nate squeezed his shoulder. “You look
beat, man. You ought to go home and get some sleep.”

“Not until I’ve run a check on every male
member of Sam’s class.”

“How about I take half the alphabet?”

With a grateful smile, Michael handed him
a yearbook. “Thanks.”

In
between bands, Alicia Perry’s father was called up to the stage. The crowd fell
silent as they waited for him to get himself together.

“I want to thank you all for the
overwhelming love and support you’ve shown my family over these last few difficult
weeks. Alicia was a special girl, and we were blessed to have had fifteen years
with her. When you think of Alicia, don’t remember how she died. Remember how
she lived—with enthusiasm and humor and delight in everything she did. And if
you have a young person in your life, give them an extra hug tonight.” His
voice broke. “You never know when it’ll be the last time. Thank you all again
for reminding us why we chose to raise our family in Granville.”

Carly looked over to find Zoë had
returned to her family’s blanket. Her face was pressed against Tom’s chest, and
her shoulders shook with sobs.

Brian watched intently as another man
cared for his daughter.

Carly squeezed his hand.

He forced a smile for her, but she could
feel the struggle that gripped him.

“It’ll take some time,” he said softly.

She nodded, knowing exactly what he
meant. Reclining against his chest, she tried to clear her mind and enjoy the
rest of the concert. When the final band had completed its set, a lone
guitarist took the stage and sang Bruce Springsteen’s “My Hometown.”

The song gave Carly chills. She realized
that while they could live anywhere in the state and be close enough for Brian
to commute to Providence, she wanted to stay in Granville and raise her
children in the same small-town environment she and Brian had grown up in. Even
though she had the freedom now to go anywhere she wanted, there was nowhere
else she wanted to be. This was
their
hometown. It was where they
belonged—and it was where their daughter lived, too. Caren had mentioned a
house for sale on her street. Tomorrow Carly would ask Brian if they could go
take a look.

By the time the song ended, the crowd was
on its feet applauding. Floodlights lit up the common as people gathered their
belongings and began walking home or to their cars.

Carly was saying goodnight to her parents
when Matt Collins joined them.

“Hey, Matt.” Mary Ann kissed his cheek.
“Did you get to hear any of the concert?”

“Some,” he said. “It’s been a busy
night.”

“Take these cookies back to the station,”
Carly said, handing him a paper plate.

“Thanks. The guys will appreciate that.”
He turned to Brian. “Your dad asked me to bring you and Carly to meet him.”

“Where?” Brian asked.

“At the place where Randy Lowell had been
hiding out. The chief wants to see if you can ID any of the items we found. He
thinks it’s possible some of it was taken from your place earlier today.”

“So you’ve decided it’s him?” Brian
asked.

Matt glowed with excitement as he nodded.
“We’ve got him nailed.”

“I didn’t notice anything missing from
the apartment,” Carly said.

“We didn’t exactly look, though,” Brian
said with a meaningful glance at Carly.

“Do you mind coming?” Matt asked. “It
shouldn’t take long.”

“No problem. We’re happy to help if we
can.” Brian put his arm around Carly. “Let’s go.”

They said good night to the others and
followed Matt to his squad car, which was double-parked on Main Street. He held
the back door for them and then used his flashing lights to get around the
traffic leaving downtown.

Sitting close to Brian, Carly looked
through the cage that separated the front seat from the back. Just as she
realized there were no handles on the back doors, alarms began to go off in her
gut. She vividly remembered what Chief Westbury had said when he gave her the
pepper spray: if you feel like you’re in danger, you probably are. She reached
into the pocket of her shorts and wrapped her hand around the pepper spray she
carried with her all the time. Her heart beat hard as she looked up at Brian.

He raised a questioning eyebrow that she
could barely see in the dark.

She put her lips right up to his ear and
said, “I don’t like this.”

His face twisted into a perplexed
expression, and she knew he was wondering what she didn’t like about being with
a police officer he had known since he was a kid.

She shook her head and pointed to her
stomach.

Brian cleared his throat. “So, Matt,
where’s this place you found?”

“Up by the Massachusetts border. A hunter
called it in.” When he looked back at them in the mirror, his eyes burned with
excitement. “You wouldn’t believe the stuff we found there.”

Brian looked over at Carly, and she could
see he no longer liked it, either.

“Matt, I want you to stop the car and let
us out. I’ll talk to my dad when he gets home, and we can go out there
tomorrow.”

“Sorry, Brian,” Matt said, glancing in
the mirror again. “I’m just following orders.”

Brian clutched Carly’s hand.

Looking at him, she pushed her free hand
against the cell phone in his pocket.

He nodded, slowly withdrew the phone, put
it on silent mode, and dialed 911. Then he jammed it into the space between the
seats.

They drove for twenty tense minutes
before Matt pulled onto a rutted dirt road.

The night was so dark Carly had been
unable to follow the route they had taken.

At least a mile later, if not more, he
parked in front of a cabin. In the dark, Carly couldn’t see much, but she
noticed right away there were no other cars nor were any lights on in the
cabin.

“I wonder where they went,” Matt said as
he got out of the car and shut the door.

“Fuck!”
Brian cried the moment they were alone. “No
fucking
way!” He retrieved the phone from between the seats. “This is Brian Westbury.
Patch me into Chief Westbury.
Right now!”

“I need your location, Mr. Westbury,” the
operator replied.

“Get my father on the line,
this
minute
.”

Carly watched the cabin, saw a flicker of
light in the darkness, and then nothing.

“I’m sorry, I can’t reach Chief
Westbury.”

“Tell him this—are you listening?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell him Brian called, the perp is Deputy
Chief Collins, and he has Brian and Carly twenty minutes north of downtown by
the Mass line—maybe even into Massachusetts. I’m calling from a cell phone, and
I’m leaving the line open. Two lives depend on you getting this right. This is
an emergency—treat it accordingly.”

“Can you text your dad?” Carly asked.

“Not with the line open. I called 911
because I wanted to be sure the phone put out a signal.”

“He’s coming back,” Carly cried.

Brian pushed the phone between the seats.
“They’ll follow the signal. They’ll find us, honey.”

Matt opened the back door and pointed his
gun at them. “Let’s go.”

Brian pushed Carly behind him. “Matt, for
God’s sakes, what are you doing? My father is your good friend. How could you
be the guy who killed my brother?”

“Get the fuck out of the car before I
blow your head off. Believe me, it would give me great pleasure.”

Brian took Carly’s hand and got out of
the car with her following right behind him.

Matt flipped the gun toward the cabin.
“Move it.”

As they walked the short distance across
the gravel driveway, Carly felt a strange sense of calm come over her. Whatever
was about to happen, she would withstand it as best she could. Staying
alive—and keeping Brian alive—was all that mattered.

M
ichael arrived home about thirty minutes
after the concert ended, ready to drop after yet another sixteen-hour day that
had yielded nothing new or useful to the investigation. He couldn’t keep up
this pace for much longer. Even his usual end-of-the-day beer held no appeal
tonight. All he cared about was his bed and six uninterrupted hours of sleep.

As he was untying his shoes at the
kitchen table, Mary Ann came out from the bedroom. She squinted as her eyes
adjusted to the light.

“Hey.” He raised his cheek to receive her
kiss. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I was waiting for you. Did you get
everything taken care of with Brian and Carly?”

“Before the concert?”

“No, after. Matt said you were waiting
for them.”

“What do you mean?”

“He said you needed them for something to
do with the case.”

Michael looked up at her, confounded. “I
have no idea what you’re talking about. Tell me exactly what he said.”

“Just that you’d found the place where
Randy someone had been hiding out and you needed the kids to identify some things
he’d taken from Carly’s apartment. He said you wanted him to bring them there
to meet you.”

Michael stood, all his senses on full
alert. “I have no idea what he’s talking about. I never asked him—”

“Michael? What? What is it?”

The whole thing was so suddenly and
painfully obvious that Michael wondered how he could’ve missed it—not a shred
of evidence left behind, a tall, hulking man with big feet.
I buy my shoes
at Gleason’s
. On vacation and out of touch when Alicia Perry went missing.
“Oh my God. It’s Matt.”

“No, Michael. No. It can’t be.”

Michael reached for his cell phone as it
began to ring in concert with the home phone and the police radio he had left
on the counter. The dispatcher relayed the message the 911 operator had
received from Brian.

“He has them!”
Mary Ann shrieked.
“He has my son!”

Matt
pushed them ahead of him into the cabin, which glowed with candlelight.

Carly took a step back.

Brian realized she was afraid of the fire
and rested his hands on her shoulders to offer what comfort he could.

She stiffened when she saw the wall of
photos devoted to her. “Oh,” she gasped. “Oh God.”

“Jesus,” Brian whispered on a long
exhale.

“Give me your cell phones,” Matt said.

“We didn’t bring them with us tonight
because we wouldn’t have been able to hear them over the music,” she said.

Brian was impressed by the calm tenor of
her voice when she had every reason to be hysterical.

Matt tucked the gun under his arm and
quickly frisked Carly to make sure she wasn’t lying about the phone.

Watching his hands move over Carly’s body
was more than Brian could bear. He eyed the gun, trying to gauge whether he had
a prayer of wrestling it away from Matt. But though Matt was ten years older
than Brian, he was taller by four inches and outweighed him by at least twenty
pounds. If Brian was going to lunge for the gun, he’d better be damned sure he
would come away with it. The alternative was unimaginable.

When Matt was satisfied Carly didn’t have
her phone, he ordered her to sit on the big brass bed.

Ropes were attached to elaborate head-
and footboards, and Brian felt his mouth go dry with fear when he imagined
Carly tied to the bed at the mercy of a madman.

Matt frisked Brian next, looking for his
phone. When he didn’t find it, he pushed Brian into a wooden chair and tied his
ankles to the legs of the chair.