The bright morning sun brought only dark thoughts for Damien. As the smell of rich, fresh coffee wafted through the offices, Damien sat in his chair, contemplating revenge.
And there was so much to avenge for, he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around specifics for any of them. Instead, he played with the ideas, one after another, until he needed a refill on his coffee.
Walking to the break room, he remembered his prayer the night before, that God would help his daughter. He’d slept soundly, as if he were a small child handing over his biggest care to a parent. But with morning came a rush of anger and fear that had not left his side for a moment.
He’d thought he might talk to Jenna at breakfast, but she didn’t look in the mood for conversation, so he stayed silent. They all did.
Damien couldn’t just stand aside, though. He couldn’t watch his daughter be brutalized by other people’s words. As a kid who’d been bullied himself, he once wished they would’ve just beaten him with sticks and stones. It seemed far less painful than the words that followed him around like a torturing spirit.
It had lasted only one year, but it gave a lasting impression. In college he’d decided he would use words for good, not bad. That was the beginning of his journalism career.
Returning to his desk, he decided he was going to have to confront the principal and teachers and get this thing taken care of. Maybe these girls didn’t tie another girl up, but the fact that they continued to defend those who did was almost as disturbing.
He wondered if he should consult Kay. She wasn’t a confrontational person. But she also didn’t like having her children messed with. He hadn’t told Kay what he’d learned from Hunter. Not yet, anyway.
He grabbed his keys off the desk and lifted his jacket off the back of the chair. He couldn’t wait a second longer. He couldn’t watch his daughter suffer anymore.
His desk phone beeped, and a crackling voice came through. “Damien?”
“Yeah, Edgar?”
“I need you in my office.”
“Look, I was just getting ready to-”
“Now.”
Kay put on an aqua velour jogging suit. She messed with her hair for a moment and decided to take out her diamond earrings. She was not at all sure how to dress for this… whatever this was. She put on a small amount of makeup but no lipstick. She removed her watch and kept on only her wedding ring.
She lingered by the kitchen phone, wondering if she should call Damien, ask if this was the right thing to do. She picked up the phone but then heard a car in her driveway. Peeking through the kitchen window, she hung up the phone and grabbed her purse.
As Kay walked down the front steps of her home, her feet felt like lead. What was she doing? Why was she doing this? It seemed like such a bad idea, but here she was, opening the car door and sliding into the passenger’s seat like they were going for brunch.
“Hi,” Jill said with a sad smile.
“Hi.” Kay closed the door and clutched her purse on her lap.
“I’m so happy you said yes,” Jill said, reversing the car and backing out of the driveway. “I honestly didn’t think you would.”
Kay swallowed, trying to calm herself and rationalize this. Yet it still seemed like a bad idea. Perhaps it was curiosity that caused her to be here. Or maybe a hope that she could help solve Frank’s murder.
Kay tried to get comfortable. She was glad the windows were tinted.
“You don’t understand what it’s been like for me,” Jill said, staring forward as she drove. “Nobody will talk to me. People are leaving horrible messages on my answering machine, like I’m somehow involved. It’s been hell.”
“I’m sorry,” Kay said softly.
“And I hate him.” Her voice was steely, harsh. “I hate him so much.”
“You think he did it?”
Jill’s chin quivered. “Yes, I do. And that’s what we’re going to find out.”
Kay tried to take a silent, deep breath. “I’m here for you. I want to help in any way I can, but I still don’t understand why you asked me to come. How will this help?”
“You don’t understand the kind of man he is. He’s got this horrible, mean side to him. A side that’s out for himself and only himself. It’s what allows him to have this kind of affair without any regard for his family. It’s what makes me think he’s capable of doing what he did. But,” Jill said, glancing at Kay for an unusually long few seconds, “he is also someone else. He can be very charming. Very convincing. I’ve fallen for this side of him so many times.”
A pause in the conversation caused Kay to rethink this. She still had time to back out.
Then Jill continued. “I suspected, you know. That he was having an affair. I questioned him: ‘Where were you? What took you so long?’ But he has this charm. And so often it makes perfect sense. It only makes me look like a paranoid freak of a wife.”
“So, you think me being there is going to help?”
“He knows he can play me. He knows what I want to hear. But he doesn’t know you, so he doesn’t know how to play you.”
“I’m not sure I can be of any help,” Kay said.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Jill replied. “Just be there with me. I need someone by my side.”
It was a small thing to ask, to have someone stand by your side. How could she not? “Okay, sure. I understand.”
For the next five miles, they drove in silence, without even the radio on. The only sound in the car was the cold north wind vibrating against the windows. Jill looked lost in her thoughts, and Kay wondered if she should even be driving.
Then Kay said, “I’ve been reading that Web site.”
Jill glanced at her almost like she’d forgotten she was in the car. “What?”
“That Web site. I’ve been reading it. I think there are some things on there about me.”
Jill smirked. “For sure?”
“No, not for sure. But I’m pretty sure. A former friend…” Kay wondered if she should mention it was the same woman who had the affair with Mike. Maybe later.
Jill’s gaze stayed on the road. “Yeah, well, I know for sure there are things on there about me. Names me. People I thought were my friends.”
“I know. I should stop reading it.”
Jill nodded. “Could make you go insane.”
Kay sighed and stared out the window. “I once said something really bad about someone.” She felt Jill’s attention, but she couldn’t stop looking out the window. “I once had a good friend. She was married to my husband’s best friend. We did everything together. The boys would go do their thing and we’d hang out, talk for hours. But I was always bothered by… the way she dressed.”
“Dressed?”
“Yeah, low-cut blouses. A lot of low-cut blouses. I made a remark one day, offhandedly, to some people who knew her. It got back to her. She never spoke to me again.” Kay bit her lip, trying to keep the tears from coming. “For a long time I blamed her. Thought she should dress differently. But I realize now… I’m the one that judged. My hang-up about how she dressed came from my own past, my own hurts.” A certain heaviness lifted as she spoke. “One sentence changed my whole life. One sentence.”
Jill reached over and took her hand. “It’s okay. We all make mistakes.”
Kay looked at her. “I’ve even judged you for how you dress. And I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”
Jill laughed and squeezed her hand. “I know I dress like I’m eighteen. I guess I just felt Mike pulling away, imagining what pretty woman he was interested in, and I thought if I tried to make myself look younger, I might win his affection back.”
Kay slumped into her seat. “See? A person never knows another’s motivations. How could I sit there and judge you for a tight tank top and not know what you’re going through?”
Jill pulled into the large parking lot of the county jail, parked, and turned to Kay. “It’s okay, my friend. Right now, how I look in a tight tank top is the least of my worries.”
Kay stared at the building. It wasn’t as tall as she’d imagined. They got out of the car and walked through the front doors. An officer behind a large black desk greeted them. They signed their names, emptied their pockets, and were led through several gated corridors until they came to a room with plastic tables and chairs. The floors looked warped and smelled like cheap Pine-Sol. One yellow sign alerted them to the wetness on the floor. They both stepped carefully toward the nearest table.
They huddled together on the far side of the room so they faced the door, their knees bumping each other with any small movement.
Kay glanced around, noticing the cameras and monitors. “I’m nervous.”
“Me too.”
“How’s Natalie handling all this?” Kay asked, hoping to take her mind off the idea that she might very soon be staring into the eyes of a cold-blooded killer.
Jill shrugged. “Okay, I guess. She doesn’t talk about it much. Hates school. I don’t blame her. I don’t know how to help her.”
The sound of a large metal door opening, then shutting, caused the women to sit up straighter. Kay could hardly breathe. She wanted to seem calm and cool, but she was certain she was not looking anything of the sort.
A tall, thin shadow crossed over the hard concrete. But the man who followed the shadow wasn’t tall or thin. He was built much like Damien, with broad shoulders, a wide chest, and decent arm muscles.
Kay had seen his mug shot in the paper. He was clean shaven but looked disheveled in the picture, wild-eyed and scared.
This morning, though, even in an orange jumpsuit, Mike Toledo seemed pulled together as if he were wearing an expensive suit. He sat down with confidence, staring at Jill while acknowledging Kay with a small smile.
“This your lawyer?” he asked, a joking kind of smirk on his lips.
“This is my friend. I asked her to come with me.”
Kay expected protest, but Mike simply regarded Kay with unassuming eyes, as if pondering the reasoning but not questioning it. He then focused on Jill. “I’m glad you came. I wondered when you would.”
“Or if,” Jill said.
“Baby, you don’t think I did this, do you?”
Jill glanced at Kay, who could only widen her eyes with anticipation of the answer. “I don’t know what to think. I know you had an affair. Don’t even try to deny it. The police already told me that much.”
Mike looked down. “I did.”
“How could you? Especially after I forgave you for Cindy.”
“It was a mistake. A terrible mistake.”
Jill paused, pushing a tissue to the bottom of her nose. “I knew you were having an affair. I knew it. I even confronted you.”
“This woman meant nothing to me. Absolutely nothing.”
“And neither, apparently, did Frank Merret.” Kay knew it came out of her mouth, but it was as if someone else spoke. There was no mistaking it, though. Both Jill and Mike stared at her. She tried to hold his steady, piercing gaze without falter. It was taking every ounce of her courage.
Mike slowly returned his attention back to Jill. “I can’t discuss this. You know I can’t. My lawyer has advised me not to talk at all, to anyone. It only protects you. The less information you have, the better.” He leaned forward, his fingers touching the top of the table lightly. “How’s Natalie?”
“How do you think she is?” Jill’s tone was harsh enough that he pulled his cuffed hands off the table. “You’ve created a nightmare for us. And all you can think about are your legal rights?”
“I’m trying to think of all of us, trying to figure out things. I know this is a mess. But we’ll get through it.”
“There is no longer a ‘we.’ We are over.”
Mike glanced between the two women. Then his stare landed on Kay. “Is this your idea? Putting thoughts in her mind about leaving me?”
Kay’s breath caught in her throat.
Jill slapped her hand against the table. “This has nothing to do with her. This is between you and me, and I’m telling you that we’re done. Whether or not you killed that officer is up to the court to decide, but I’m not going through this anymore with you. We’re over.” She trembled from head to toe. Only Kay could see her hands, now tucked on her lap, shaking as if she’d plugged herself into an outlet. But the resolve in Jill’s eyes was undeniable. And apparently unusual, judging by Mike’s expression.
Suddenly, though, Mike’s startled eyes turned scathing; his hot gaze drifted back and forth between Jill and Kay. “Well,” he said, his voice smooth and calm, “I suppose when I get out of here after I’m proven innocent, we’ll have to all three get together again. Talk through the facts. Clear up any… misunderstandings.” He parked his stare on Kay. Then he grinned. “Right?”
Jill grabbed Kay’s arm. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“So soon?” he sneered.
Kay and Jill made their way around the table. Kay thought the protocol was that the prisoner left first, but they were already at the door, ringing the buzzer to be let out.
Mike turned in his seat. “Jill, wait. Please. Let’s talk. Just you and me. Why do you need her here anyway?”
“She’s my friend!” Jill barked, ringing the buzzer again. The door swung open, and a guard appeared in the doorway.
Mike’s menacing eyes followed them. “I wasn’t aware you had any friends.”
Kay took Jill by the shoulder and ushered her out the door, then glanced back.
Mike leaned against the back of the chair, raised both hands, and waved.
“Shut the door,” Edgar said.
Damien studied Captain Lou Grayson, who stood near Edgar’s desk. “Did you find any evidence linking Toledo to Frank’s murder?”
Grayson glanced at Edgar, who gave a slight nod. Damien thought they were both acting weird.
“This is off the record for right now,” Grayson said, “but yeah, we got the warrant, got in, and found some good stuff. But even better, our guys found a gun wrapped in a sack, thrown in a Dumpster about a mile from his house. We’re running tests for a match, but it looks promising. He was denied bail.” He urged Damien to sit. “But that’s not why we’re here.”
Damien sat down. There was something in the air that surpassed the typical office tension that accompanied a busy day.
Grayson reached down and pulled out a folder from a briefcase that leaned against Edgar’s desk. He dropped it onto the edge of the desk as if everyone should focus on it.
Instead Damien stared at Edgar, tried to read his face, but it remained expressionless. “What’s going on?”
Edgar cleared his throat. “Frank’s no longer on their radar for the Web site.”
Damien sucked in a relieved breath. He smiled, nodding, eager for more information.
Edgar’s attention drifted past Damien to Grayson.
“Damien, we’re going to just come out and say it. No beating around the bush,” Grayson said, his tone suddenly more formal. “We have reason to believe you’re the one behind the Web site.”