Chapter Twenty-Eight
Before she left to see the Aherns and then take a much-needed break after a dreadful couple of weeks, Sam called Brecken Mayfield’s mother, Melanie, who’d been located by Ruiz’s team after a somewhat exhaustive search.
From what Ruiz had reported, Melanie had clearly not wanted to be found and had gone to some effort to stay off the grid.
Despite that, Ruiz’s detectives had gotten a phone number for her that she’d texted to Sam, asking her to follow up.
Sam placed the call, hoping Melanie would answer a call from an unknown number, so Sam didn’t have to go to Potomac to see her in person. That’d take hours she didn’t feel like spending at work when she was eager to see her family.
Melanie’s voicemail picked up.
“This is Lieutenant Holland from the DC Metropolitan Police Department. I’d appreciate it if you could call me back as soon as possible.”
A few minutes later, her phone chimed with a text from Melanie. I have nothing to say about my son or ex-husband. I haven’t seen either of them in years. Whatever they’ve done now, it does not involve me. Please leave me out of it.
Freddie came into Sam’s office. “Hey, are you going to see the Aherns? I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
He wouldn’t let her go alone, and she loved him for that.
“I reached out to Brecken Mayfield’s mother, and she wants nothing to do with us or them.” She read the woman’s text to him.
“Will you leave it at that?”
“I guess I’ll have to. What can she tell us when she hasn’t seen either of them in years?”
“Right, and there’s no sense further traumatizing her by dragging her into it.”
“Besides, if there’re trials, she’ll probably be subpoenaed eventually.”
“True.”
Recognizing a dead end when she encountered one, Sam replied by text to thank Melanie for her response.
“Walters has written up the warrant request for tower pings on the Mayfields’ cell phones,” Freddie said.
“We hope to be able to put them in the vicinity of where the kids were when they went missing. That has to go to the cell phone company, though, so after we get the warrant, it’s apt to take a few days. ”
“Right, but that’ll be helpful in cementing our case against them.”
Gonzo came to the door. “Brecken Mayfield is asking to speak to us.”
Sam desperately wanted to leave so she could see Luna’s family and then go home to her own.
“We can take it,” Gonzo said, sensing her hesitation.
“No, I want to hear what he has to say. Let’s get him into interrogation and ask Charity to come in, too.”
Waiting for her to get there would require another delay, but it was important for the prosecutor to witness whatever the kid had to say.
She sat in her desk chair, exhaustion tugging at every cell in her body.
“You should let Gonzo take over,” Freddie said. “He can fully brief you afterward. Cam’s here, too. The two of them can handle it.”
“I know they can, but I want to be there.”
“I’m afraid you’re going to keel over on me.”
“I won’t. I promise but do me a favor if you would.”
“What’s that?”
“Will you see about getting phones back to Tracy, Mike and the other families?”
“Yeah, I’ll take care of that right away.”
“Thank you.” While she waited for all the players to arrive, she tipped her head back and closed her eyes.
“Sam.”
Freddie’s voice roused her.
She opened her eyes. “Did I fall asleep?”
“Yeah, for half an hour. Charity’s here, and Brecken is in interrogation.”
“Don’t tell anyone I corked off.”
He gave her a look that said, What do you take me for? “I’m going to watch from observation, and I’ll be here when you’re ready to go see the Aherns. Also, phones are on the way back to the families with Patrol.”
“Thank you.”
Sam and Freddie found Charity and Gonzo outside the door to interview two. “Are we ready?”
“Let’s see what he wants,” Gonzo said.
Sam and Gonzo went into the room, where a noticeably rattled Brecken Mayfield awaited them.
He lunged to his feet.
“Sit down,” Gonzo said.
He collapsed into the chair and buried his face in his hands as his composure seemed to break.
They waited him out.
When Brecken finally looked up at them, Gonzo turned on the recording device, noted who was in the room and that AUSA Charity Miller was in observation and said, “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you can’t afford one, a court-appointed attorney will be provided at no cost to you.
Do you understand these rights as I’ve stated them? ”
Mayfield nodded.
“I need you to say the words out loud.”
“I understand.”
“Do you wish to proceed with this discussion?”
“I do.”
“You requested this meeting. What can we do for you?”
“I… I wanted to say… I never meant for anything to happen to Luna. I… just wanted to talk to her.”
“If that’s the case, why was your DNA found on her during the autopsy?” Sam asked.
He ran trembling fingers through his hair, seeming to think about what he wanted to say. “You have to understand that my dad… He’s not someone you mess around with. If he tells you to do something, you do it.”
“And that includes attacking and sexually assaulting a thirteen-year-old girl?” Sam asked.
“You don’t know how he is… Nothing is ever enough for him. He said he wanted me to find a way to talk to Luna, so that’s what I did, and then… when I realized what he really wanted, I told him no. I said I wasn’t doing it, but then…” He shook his head. “I didn’t want to hurt her.”
“So tell me how it works when you say you want nothing to do with what he had planned for her, but your semen is found on her.”
“He made me,” he said on a low sob. “He told me he’d disown me if I wimped out on him and that he wanted a son he could be proud of, not a sniveling baby who couldn’t follow through when he had the chance to get revenge. It’s been me and him… My whole life, it’s been us.”
“And for all that time, he’s been feeding you a toxic diet of hostility toward women, right?” Gonzo asked. “Beginning with your own mother.”
The kid’s eyes flashed with hatred. “She deserved to be disrespected.”
“No, she didn’t,” Sam said. “She tried to save you from the exact predicament you find yourself in now, but your dad poisoned your mind toward her so he could exert full influence over you.”
“That’s not how it happened.”
“Isn’t it?” Sam asked. “Did she try to take you away from him when you were still young enough to be saved?”
“I didn’t need her to save me! I was fine with him!”
“Until he told you to rape and murder a child.”
“I didn’t want to do that! I told him! I cared about her… All I wanted was for her to notice me and be nice to me.”
"You made sure she noticed you when you raped her, right?” Sam asked.
He broke down into sobs, hands fisted against his eyes. “I didn’t want to hurt her.”
“Then why did you? Why didn’t you tell your father no? Why didn’t you defend her against him?”
Brecken dropped his hands from his face and stared at her with cold, unseeing eyes. “Because that’s not how it works. She disrespected me. She had to be made to pay for that.”
“With her life?” Sam asked, incredulous.
Brecken shrugged. “If that’s what it took.”
His swing from heartbroken to psychotic was truly jarring to witness.
“Is there anything else you wanted to say?” Gonzo asked.
“No, that’s it. When can I get out of here?”
That he thought he had any prayer of being released was hard to believe.
“Never,” Sam said.
Gonzo turned off the recording device as they stood to leave the room.
“Wait! What do you mean ‘never’? My dad made me do it! I didn’t want to.”
That quickly, he was back to being a bewildered little boy.
They ignored him and left the room.
Charity and Freddie met them in the hallway.
“Are you guys thinking what I am?” Sam asked.
“Multiple personality disorder?” Gonzo said.
“It’s called something else now,” Sam said, trying to remember the current terminology.
“Dissociative identity disorder.” Charity rubbed her arms as if to contend with goose bumps. “I’ll request a full psych eval.”
Cameron Green came down the corridor toward them. “Got the warrants for the wife’s and sister-in-law’s phones in the Carver case.”
“Great, thanks,” Gonzo said to his partner.
“Why do you guys look so spooked?”
“Take a look at the video for the conversation we just had with Brecken Mayfield,” Sam said. “We’re having a full psych eval done. Possible dissociative identity disorder.”
“Oh wow. I’ve never seen that before in person.”
“Be thankful for that,” Sam said. “I’ll never forget it.”
“Same,” Gonzo said as Charity and Freddie nodded.
“Will you get him back to lockup?” Sam asked Gonzo. “We’re headed to see the Aherns.”
“Yeah, I’ll take care of it.”
“I’ll work on arranging the psych eval,” Charity said before she left.
While Gonzo and Cam took care of moving Brecken back to lockup, Sam and Freddie headed for the morgue exit.
“I’ve never wanted out of here more than I do right now,” Sam said.
“Right there with you. That was unreal.”
“Is it weird that I started to feel empathy for him as it became clear he’s seriously unwell?”
“No, it’s not, because I did, too. This is all on the father who molded his son into a monster in his own image.”
“I feel for the mom who tried to stop it.”
“I know. If only she’d been able to get him away from the father.”
“It was too late by the time she tried. The son was old enough to say where he wanted to be.”
“I don’t get why Asher Mayfield didn’t lose custody after he was charged with multiple crimes, though.”
“It seemed like he was good at disappearing when things got hot,” Sam said.
They stepped out into the chilly April air and were greeted by Vernon, who held the back door of the SUV for her. She was happy to see him after such a difficult day.
“Heard about the Ahern girl. How’re you doing?”
“Terrible, but I’m determined to see her parents on the way home.”
“Do you have to do that?”
“I feel compelled.”
“Let’s get it done, then.”
When they were on the way to the Aherns’ home, Sam called Tristan McCaffery, the juvenile parole officer.
“McCaffery.”
“It’s Lieutenant Holland with the MPD.”
“I heard you found Brecken Mayfield.”
“We did, and I have questions.”
“I’m sure you do.”
“First and foremost, we’re wondering how Brecken remained in his father’s custody when both of them were committing multiple crimes and the son wasn’t attending school.”
“We brought CPS in multiple times. The kid refused to be relocated. He was physically and verbally abusive to anyone and everyone who tried to take him from his father. After the last time we tried to get CPS involved, the Mayfields took off. We had officers trying to find them, but their trail went cold. Eventually, we quit actively looking for them because we had so many other cases to deal with. The disappearance was reported to the court and school district, and warrants were issued for them.”
“Would you be surprised to learn they were living just off Connecticut Avenue, and that’s where they held two young boys hostage and used their phones to lure a young girl to her death?”
After a long pause, McCaffery said, “I’m not surprised.”
“I hate to be a pain in your ass, but you do realize there’ll be fallout over this, right? Brecken was in our system, but we lost track of him and stopped looking for him.”
“I’ve known for a long time that kid could be the one who ends my career prematurely.”
“And yet, no alarm was sounded. No one said, ‘Hey, we’ve got a pretty dangerous kid on the loose in this city and people need to be aware’?”
“He’s a juvenile. We don’t put them on blast.”
“Who was responsible for the father?”
“That’d be the adult division. I can give you the number for their director.”
“Thank you.” Sam wrote down the name and number he recited.
“Can you tell me what Brecken will be charged with?”
“First degree murder and sexual assault, to start.”
“Jesus.”
“Take care, Mr. McCaffery.” She closed the phone, feeling outraged. “They don’t put dangerous juveniles on blast, you see.”
“I caught the gist,” Freddie said. “And he’s right. Juvenile criminals are protected by the system.”
“We need a new system.”
“Do you think?”
Sam rolled her eyes at him as she made the call to Matteo Ramos, director of adult probation in the U.S.
Probation Office’s DC division, which fell under the jurisdiction of the U.S.
Courts. Because the District’s cases were handled by the U.S.
Attorney for the District of Columbia, the probation unit landed at the federal level.
When Ramos’s voicemail picked up, Sam left a message. “Please call me back on an urgent matter involving one of your parolees.”
As they pulled onto the Aherns’ street, her entire system was in an uproar of nerves and emotion as she contemplated this dreadful meeting.
As the commander of the Homicide division, she tried to see the families of all their victims and to make herself available as their cases wound their way through the courts.
That was often a multiyear process that required a tremendous amount of support for the families.
Vernon brought the SUV to a stop a block from the Ahern home. “Give us a couple of minutes to clear the way,” he said.
“Okay.” She hoped they were quick, because exhaustion was winning the war.