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“He admitted to being pressured by the mayor and the chief of police during the course of the investigation twenty years ago to make sure Joel Brody fit as a suspect. Talked about how he couldn’t bear the weight of the truth anymore now that the FBI has connected Ellingson to Michael Agutter’s abduction.” Livingstone gave her a knowing look. “Maynor has officially stepped down from his position as chief of police, and the state is launching a full investigation into how far the corruption has spread through the department. Funny how he suddenly changed his mind. Especially considering I hadn’t shared that information with him. It’s almost as though someone just happened to let it slip.”
“Guilt can be a funny thing, Director.” Leigh had to force her face to relax, to give nothing away. Because sharing unverified information could’ve blown up in all of their faces. Not just hers. “I’m sure you know that better than anyone.”
The corner of the director’s mouth lifted, changing her entire countenance in the blink of an eye. It was gone just as quickly, never existing. “Yes. I guess I do.”
Livingstone left it at that, striding down the hall.
Her phone pinged with an incoming message, and she slid it free from her blazer pocket.
Can we talk?—Hailey.
Teenage betrayal urged her to delete the message and leave hers and Hailey’s relationship in the past where it belonged, but another part of her understood the danger surrounding a man like Donavon Pierce. If anything happened to Hailey or her kids because Leigh had ignored a message, she’d never forgive herself. She sent back a message with her location.
She smiled as Michael waved again, lighter than she’d felt in a long time. She’d saved a life today. Maybe more with the state investigators looking into Maynor’s past cases. But with that came a shadow of constriction in the background. The lead detective from her brother’s case had finally given her what she’d wanted: validation. The case could potentially be reopened. Her father could be recommended for early release. She could finally move on now that Ellingson had gotten what he’d deserved.
Except there was another little boy out there who needed her, and they had no idea where he’d gone or if he was even still alive.
Air suctioned from her lungs, and the lightness evaporated. “They’ll reopen the case.”
A case the unsub had already punished and murdered four victims from simply looking into it. On top of that, Leigh’s childhood home was nothing but a pile of ashes. An entire unit from the state was on its way to pull apart every facet of that investigation. There was no telling how far the killer would go to keep that from happening.
“Shit.” Leigh grabbed for her phone and ran for the stairwell. Livingstone couldn’t have gotten far. She’d agreed to stay until Michael Agutter’s parents arrived, but he was safe now. Chris Ellingson couldn’t hurt him anymore. As much as she hated the idea of leaving him surrounded by nurses, doctors, and police he didn’t know, this wasn’t over.
Her phone wouldn’t connect. “Come on.”
Shouldering out into the parking lot, she raised her phone higher to see if it made a difference in coverage. Damn it. She’d come here in the ambulance. She needed a ride to pick up her rental from the hotel in Concord.
A single bar lit up in the corner of the screen. She hoped like hell it would be enough to alert Livingstone to the potential of another escalation.
Pain exploded down her spine.
Leigh launched forward. Her gut slammed over the hood of a sedan, the force knocking her phone from her hand.
“You just couldn’t help yourself could you, Leigh?” The ringing in her ears lessened enough to make out the voice. Hailey Pierce. “You had to go sticking your nose in everyone’s business. Haven’t you learned your lesson by now?”
A strike landed at the back of her knee and brought her to the asphalt. Leigh grabbed for the throbbing in her low back, barely making out the shape of a baseball bat in the woman’s hand. Aluminum, same as the one Hailey had used on their high school softball team. Mind-splitting agony ripped over the sore skin. She blinked to clear her head, but it didn’t make any difference. “Hailey, what… I don’t… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Another swing of the bat crushed the air from Leigh’s lungs and dropped her face-first to the ground. “You were always jealous of me. You never wanted me to have him. You pretended to care, pretended to warn me about him, but the truth is you just wanted to make sure I was as miserable as you are. That’s why you had the fire marshal arrest him, isn’t it? That’s why you made me a single mother.”
Donavon Pierce had been arrested?
Hailey raised the bat over her shoulder. Streetlights intensified the rage etched around the woman’s mouth. Nothing like the pulled-together barista Leigh had run into on her visit to Jack’s Coffee Garage. “You ruined my life once, Leigh Brody. Do you know how long it took before people around here started talking to me again? Do you know what I had to do to convince them I had nothing to do with you after your dad went to jail? Years.”
Her once closest friend took on a feral growl. “I was an outcast. The only place that would hire me was Jack’s Coffee Garage, and I had to hide out in the back like pariah most of that time. Now I’ve spent so long there I can’t go anywhere else. I’ve wasted my life being stuck in this hellhole all because you couldn’t accept your father is some sick freak who liked cutting up little boys. I don’t care what Chief Maynor said on TV. This town will never forgive you for standing up for a child murderer. They will never accept you because I’m going to make damn sure they don’t. You deserve to be the one they hate.”
Hailey swung the bat down.
Bone-deep pain echoed through Leigh’s hand as it made contact in her palm. She held the metal mere inches away from her face. A direct hit would’ve resulted in more than a concussion this time, making Hailey Pierce the very thing she claimed she despised the most. Surprise and a hint of fear froze on the woman’s face as Leigh got to her feet. She ripped the bat from between Hailey’s hands, aggravating whatever damage inflicted from the strike to her ribs, and tossed it aside. Metal on asphalt rang—too loud—in her ears as exhaustion and acceptance combined.
“You’re right. This town won’t forgive me. The people here are too scared to admit they were wrong about my father, even when the facts are in front of their faces.” Leigh limped around the hood of the sedan and collected her phone from the other side. Bending over hurt, but it was nothing compared to the truth she’d wasted her life for a lost cause. “I’ve spent my life banging my head against a wall trying to change their minds, yours included. We were best friends, and you turned on me without a second thought. And you know what? Carrying that around isn’t worth it anymore. Not when I have the chance to do something good for this place. So go home, Hailey. Hug your kids. Because, honestly, the only reason I’m not arresting you for assaulting a federal agent right now is that someone else might die if I waste my time on you.”
Hailey took a step back. That tired gaze flickered to the bat a few feet away but re-centered on Leigh. “You’re going to wish you’d never come back to Lebanon.”
“Too late.” Leigh watched her former friend get behind the wheel of a minivan parked a few rows over before daring to look at her phone’s screen. The glass had cracked at one corner, spidering in multiple directions toward the bottom, but it was still functional. Mostly.
She’d missed a call from Chandler Reed a little over two hours ago. Around the time she’d been pulling Michael Agutter from the tunnel beneath Chris Ellingson’s garage. Pain stabbed behind her right eye as she tapped the federal investigator’s contact information with one thumb. The line rang, ending in voicemail. She tried again. Same result.
The only reason the federal investigator would call was to confirm the blood from the duffle bag belonged to Michelle Cross. Leigh checked her voicemails. Empty. Then her email. One message stood out from the rest. From Chandler Reed. She visually followed Hailey Pierce’s van out of the parking lot, memorizing the license plate number on the way out, as she opened the unread email. Leigh cut through the hospital’s parking lot and across a path constructed of trampled snow between two trees to the main road. Lebanon didn’t employ a lot of taxis, but police followed regular patrols. She might be able to get a ride back to her rental with one of them.
