The secrets they keep, p.22
The Secrets They Keep, page 22
She means it. And I’d trust her with mine. And she knows it.
“Thanks for giving a damn about me,” Madigan said, huffing out the last part.
They both pulled away, laughing, as Buster stared up at them with his head cocked to the side.
“You’re right,” she said. “I need to focus on myself again.”
“Have you been focusing on him?” Grace asked.
Madigan nodded.
“You know that old saying,” Grace said as they began to walk toward home along the sidewalk. “Holding on to anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die? Well—I’ve been there.”
Leah. She’s been there with the people who killed her—and with herself.
“It’s like giving up your power and control to something you have no control over.”
Oh, I’ve been trying to get that control, but she’s right.
“How are you always right?” Madigan laughed and sniffled as they strolled up the walkway.
“That reminds me of something…” Grace’s voice trailed off.
“What?”
Grace turned to her with a grin.
“Mac? Are you thinking about him? You talk about him a lot, you know.”
“I do not.”
“You do.”
Grace unlocked the front door, and Madigan took off Buster’s leash. Buster licked her cheek, and she wiped it away as he trotted off to the water bowl.
“I’d like to see you happy,” she said as she stood to face Grace.
Grace stared at her, pressing her lips together and raising her shoulders slightly.
She knows she’s not really happy right now. Maybe she needs someone in her personal life. Or just a personal life in general. Only she knows. Ohhh, she’s thinking the same for me.
Madigan smiled and nodded. “Uh huh. I know. I know. I’m just saying—would it hurt you to go out for a drink with someone you find attractive and just enjoy yourself without thinking about the future, or what happens next, or even the next day?”
“I’m not like you,” Grace moaned. “I just don’t want to deal with the inevitable fallout when it affects my career.”
“But if you’re saying I need to trust myself to handle what comes my way, shouldn’t you?”
They exchanged grins, and Grace hid her face behind her hands.
“Alright, alright,” Madigan said. “I won’t talk about it again unless you want to. Listen, I really appreciate everything we talked about tonight.”
“Me too.” Grace dropped down on the couch and squeezed the pillow beside her. “You have a good night, alright?”
Madigan nodded, draping her bag over her head and across her chest before walking out the door.
Chapter Twenty Eight
I’m on this chase for someone I don’t know, for a kind of justice that may never bring me peace. Do I tell Luke I’ve finished my search?
If I stop now, whoever hurt me will keep hurting others. I’m closer than I’ve ever been to the truth.
Madigan parked her bike in front of the address Luke sent her along a quiet road in an industrial area on the outskirts of Amherst—not far from where she spent her young childhood on Warbler Way.
I’m here. I came.
Maybe this is my last shot to find him. I have to take it.
Crunching gravel signaled footsteps from somewhere ahead.
Luke appeared from around a chain-link fence and strode toward her.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“This is where they come,” he said. “Pull your bike up by the fence and come on. You’re late.”
By not even ten minutes.
She left her bike and helmet by the fence and jogged to meet Luke’s pace. He strode back into the dark before she could catch up with him, keeping a distance from the first building and walking along the side of it through the gravel.
Is this a parking lot?
“I’ve come here tonight,” he said, “but I won’t come back. This is where they all come when the weekend rolls around.”
“Where?” she hissed, looking at the fields and large buildings surrounding them.
“I’m taking you in the back way.”
“Can you just tell me where we are?”
“You know where we are.”
Her stomach tightened against the flurries inside that threatened to make her sick.
This could be bad. This could be very bad.
He brought her to the back door of the large building, slightly propped open by a rock.
It’s dark in there.
“I’m not going in,” she said, shaking her head as he opened it wide.
“You want to find this guy?”
She took a deep breath and stared into the dark hallway.
“This is your last chance. Like I said, I’m not coming back here.”
Trust yourself. Trust that you can handle this.
She stepped inside, and Luke followed behind her. He put his hand on her back, guiding her gently into the echoing hallway as the door creaked shut behind them.
“Once we get down there,” he whispered, “we’ll find a dark corner and sit. We leave when I say. If I tell you to do something, do it. Understood?”
All I can do is turn and leave or put my trust in him. Trust yourself.
He stopped, and his hand fell away as vibrations thrummed through the floor and faint music echoed through the halls. Madigan stepped through a doorway to her right and fell into the next step as the ground disappeared beneath her.
“Stairs,” Luke whispered. He grabbed her arm, catching her and pulling her back against his chest. “Careful.”
Her hand skimmed against the concrete wall on the way down, reaching out for a railing without grasping on to anything but the wall again. At the bottom, after a few more steps, she bumped into a door. As she pressed her hand against it, the thrumming vibrated through her.
Luke pressed something, a button maybe, along the side of the door, and a slot opened at Luke’s eye level. A purple light shone through as the loud music filled the stairway before a pair of eyes and thick eyebrows looked from her to Luke.
“Password?”
“Elvis, it’s me.”
A hearty laugh came from behind the slot, and the heavy door creaked open as the large man wearing a gray suit nodded to them both.
“Good one,” Luke smiled, nodding as they walked past the large man and into a room with black lights, mirrors, and a bar that began in one room and continued through the alcove of many others.
“Next room,” Luke said in her ear as they passed by bartenders and servers dressed like they teleported straight from the roaring twenties.
An underground bar.
He led her to the next room and gestured toward a dark booth in the corner, lit only by a glowing purple neon sign of a scorpion on the wall above the middle booth.
That’s like John’s tattoo. Maybe this is where he got the idea from…
She slid into the booth, and he slid in close beside her. “Heard of personal space?” she called into his ear.
“For tonight, we’re together,” he said. “They’ll come through here—all of Mickey’s men. Maybe even Mickey himself. We’re not going deeper into the club, so get a good look or listen here. Got it?”
She nodded.
“Mickey’s men usually meet at ten for a high-stakes poker event each Friday. They’re due any minute, and they’re never late.”
Her heart thrummed faster than the vibrating bass through her body to her bones as she held the strap of her bag tightly, her eyes glued to the alcove they’d entered from. Luke took her hand and pulled gently until she faced him.
“You can’t watch them coming in,” he said, his minty breath on her face. “I put you there to watch them walking into the next room. You don’t want whoever this is to see you, do you?”
She shook her head and turned her body to face him, away from the entrance. “What if they see you?” she asked.
“I’ve been here once or twice since I got back. I steer clear of them, and they do the same.”
A woman in a beaded dress approached them. “Drinks?” she asked.
“Two whiskeys, neat,” Luke said, passing her a bill.
As she walked away, the beads swayed with her, mesmerizing Luke.
“Did you know I like whiskey?” she asked.
“You ordered a Jack and coke at Wild Card, so I figured.” He nodded. “A little liquid courage couldn’t hurt either.”
He is risking something by being here.
She gripped her bag tightly in her lap.
“Pretend we are in deep conversation,” he said.
“You don’t realize how hard that is.”
“It’s easier than you’d think, if you’ll just tell me why you’re really looking for this man.”
Two men walked past them laughing.
The blond one. He’s that bartender from Wild Card who had an attitude with me. Their pitch is too high. They’re not tall enough either.
“See him?”
She shook her head. “No, just someone I recognized from Wild Card.”
The server brought them their drinks, and another small group of men filtered past her.
Not the right body type. Too skinny…
A man with a shaved head walked through the alcove with Blaze behind him, stopping at the bar in their section.
“Two shots of tequila,” Blaze said. “The good shit, darlin’.”
His voice is deep and strong. It could be…
The man with the shaved head laughed and looked over at Madigan, making eye contact. Time seemed to slow down as she struggled to look away, but the man kept his gaze.
Luke’s face moved in front of hers, and he pressed his lips against hers, holding the side of her face with his hand as they kissed, parting slightly to kiss again, deeper. Longer. His warm tongue brushed her lips, but throughout the kiss, she never stopped thinking about Blaze and the man staring at her.
As they parted, she looked straight at him again, and he looked her up and down, giving her a wink before grabbing his shot and taking it with Blaze. They slammed their glasses down on the bar, and he walked past their booth without casting her a second glance.
“Hey, you got some on your shirt,” the man with the shaved head said.
His voice is similar too. They’re too alike to even tell them apart…
“Awh, fuck!” Blaze shouted as he passed her.
Buster bit you. Something just clanged against the floor, and you were on top of me… and he bit you. You swore…
Lights flooded the room…
A weight lifted off my chest…
She gasped for air, her first full breath.
“Madigan,” Luke whispered in her ear, and she blinked, snapping out of her flashback. She struggled to regain her breath as tears flooded her eyes.
Do I even remember the voice anymore?
“Did you see him?” Luke asked.
Or am I imagining it’s Blaze because he’s here. Because it’s convenient.
She wiped her eyes and turned to him. “I don’t know what’s real anymore…”
“We’re leaving,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her from the booth, leading her through the alcove toward the door.
I’d need to see if there’s a mark… That’s the only way to prove it.
Is there even a mark, or did I make that up?
Emerging from the building, she could breathe again, jogging from the door until she reached the gravel area they crossed over, stumbling toward the spot she hid her bike. Gravel crunched behind her, and she turned around as Luke caught up.
“You alright?” he asked.
“You were right,” she said. “This is bigger than me. I always knew they were dangerous, but…”
But I’m risking it all to catch someone I might never be sure of.
“You wanted me to take you to them,” he said. “I’m confused.”
“I changed my mind.” She panted, slowing down closer to her bike. “I thought about all those things you said to me at the park.”
“Uh huh,” he said as they got to her bike, and she grabbed her helmet, holding it in her hand. “So, what? You suddenly don’t care about finding this man?”
“I just don’t know if it’s possible,” she panted, resting her arm against the fence, catching her breath. “I’ve seen so many people who could have been him, but…”
“Now you just want to quit?”
She frowned. “I thought you’d be happy.”
He shook his head and wiped his hand against his eye and temple before staring at her. “I want to make sure you’re not just saying you’re over it, but then you go it alone.”
“I’m not just saying it. This was stupid—going in there... I appreciate that you risked a lot for me, but that did it. My mind is made up. It’s not good for me. You were right. I’ve become so obsessed with finding him.”
“Finding who?”
She stared at the ground between them, remembering the man charging at her from down the hallway as her heart refused to calm down.
He came out of nowhere…
“The man who attacked me,” she whispered.
“You were attacked?” He shifted his weight to his other foot and craned his neck to look at her until she made eye contact. “Where? At Wild Card?”
“In my sister’s home. Whoever he was broke in wearing all black. He came at me, and everything happened so fast. I ran to the kitchen, but before I could grab a knife or anything to defend myself, he had me. Pushed me to the floor.” She winced, remembering the shooting pains in her side.
“Madigan, I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
“He might have raped me—killed me even, if he had the chance—but he was interrupted. I never saw his face. Pretty much everything I remember is muddled, except for the pain, but I thought I could try to find him based on his size. Tall and strong.” She shook her head. “I just became so eager to find him. Make him pay. I lost myself, so the ‘me’ you met isn’t really me. I’m trying to get her back, though, and that means stopping all of this before it goes too far. Before I lose every part of myself.”
This isn’t me. I wanted to find the bad guy, yes, but I wanted to hurt him like he hurt me. I was willing to hurt someone I wasn’t even sure was my attacker.
He stared at her, folding his arms over his chest. “Shit.”
“What?”
“Now that I know, I want to find the guy.” He seemed stunned, blinking frequently, opening his mouth to say more, but closing it again soon after.
“I appreciate your help and all you’ve done. I’m sorry I put you in this position—”
“Hey, I sought you out. I decided to help. Are you sure you’re done searching?”
No, but I know I can’t keep going like this. He needs to be found. Held responsible.
But the only right way to do it is through the police. Maybe a line-up so I can see if there’s a bite. So they can have him yell “fuck.” So I can look him in the eyes without fear.
I have a list of possibilities, including Blaze now too. It’s time to tell Grace everything.
“This was crazy from the start,” she mumbled, shaking her head.
Luke took a few steps toward her as she fiddled with her helmet strap. “You could go to the police,” he said.
“The police tried to find him. There wasn’t enough to go off. I might never…”
I might never find him. I need to make peace with that somehow.
“What?”
She shrugged. “I might never know.”
His chest heaved up and down. “You had reason to think it might have been one of Mickey’s men.”
She nodded.
“Well—if it was—I pray you never find out.”
She turned around and took one last look at the building before putting her helmet on.
“It’s just darkness,” Luke said. “All they bring is pain, and after what you’ve gone through, you deserve to be in the light.”
She turned around and gave him a smile before swinging her leg over her bike. “Need a ride?”
He shook his head. “You take care, alright? If you ever need me, or change your mind, you’ve got my number.”
I just want to get out of here.
She nodded, revving the engine as Luke stepped out of her way.
Tomorrow, as soon as she gets home, I’ll give Grace everything I have. And in the meantime, I’ll visit John. Thank him for sending Luke.
And, maybe, my attacker will be brought to justice, but either way, tomorrow is the day I start moving forward instead of looking back—because if I don’t—I’ll keep reliving it, whether I want to or not.
Torturing myself.
As she sped down the road, the rumbling engine growled louder than her own thoughts, allowing her to relax into her seat.
I’m taking back my life.
Chapter Twenty Nine
“Did you find anything on the storefront tapes?” Grace asked as Mac strode into the room and took off his coat. “Anything to suggest Brad wasn’t at home?”
“No, and I’m guessing you didn’t get anything from the neighbours?”
She shook her head. “Most of them were out at the time or couldn’t say they saw anything. We have no proof to catch him or convince him to confess.”
“He’s in at eight, right?” Mac asked.
She nodded and took a sip of coffee.
“Okay, so what we have is the emails, including the one where he told Cory not to contact him anymore. The papers from Brad’s lawyer. Then the phone records of their calls. Cory’s personal financial records.”
Grace leaned inward. “And the fact there is no one to corroborate his alibi.”
“It’ll have to be enough,” Mac said, looking up at the clock as Tarek stepped into the room with a small brown box in his hand. “Oh, tell me that’s something that helps us.”
Tarek shrugged. “It’s for you.”
He handed Grace the box, and she set it on the table, frowning down at it and picking up a pen to crack open the sides as Mac and Tarek looked on. She opened it, and brown wrapping paper covered something hard. As she took it out of the box, Mac turned away toward the board and grabbed the marker.
