Chapter 54
She was really good at talking the talk, but Madison was not very good at walking the walk. Don’t let fear take the future from you. Yes, she could parrot the words, but she’d been living like a coward since the choir hall shooting. At least…where men were concerned.
Maybe where one man was concerned, mostly. Considering.
She thought about that after she thanked Bonnie and her family for dinner, spoke for a few minutes with Miriam when she showed up to spend the night at the Colesons, and then let Dominic Acardi load her into his big black truck. He was taking her back to her apartment.
They were going to go over the print-outs Hope had given her. And him.
And they were going to see what exactly the TSP had missed that Hope had found.
But…it was only eight p.m. now. And Dom…they would have at least another three hours together. Alone. In her apartment, with a storm building around them.
She looked through the rain as he drove. “I don’t think it’s going to be a bad storm.”
But it was definitely going to storm tonight. It was hard to miss.
“I’m not sure.”
The tornado that had struck the TSP building a few years ago had been an F4.
It had formed just south of Value, one county south of where they were now, and had just grown in strength.
Until it was a supertornado. Instead of rotating away, it had almost hovered at full-strength above Finley Creek.
There had been extensive damage to almost a fourth of the city.
There were some places that were still repairing the damage.
Over one hundred people had been killed.
She’d lost several people she worked with.
She hadn’t been out on scene. But Haldyn had been—and two women they’d worked with had been killed.
Madison had spent the storm wrapped up in Dom’s arms in the hallway of the TSP.
With dozens of their colleagues around them.
They had barely made it to the hallway in time.
Dom had wrapped himself around her. Protected her.
She would never forget.
There was probably no other man in the world she trusted as much as she did this one—with her personal safety. If she continued to spend so much time alone with him, though, her virtue was virtually toast.
“We’ll get you inside, soon. Your unit has a basement, right?”
Madison nodded. “Every townhome has a basement with storage room access. We tend to all end up down there during storms. There are common areas.”
Each unit had a small basement area of approximately one hundred square feet.
Cinderblock rooms that opened into a narrow hallway.
There was a boiler room at the opposite end from her unit.
It was a nice complex. Houghton had made sure of it when he’d built it more than ten years ago, he’d said.
He’d kept it upgraded, as well. “I feel safe there.”
Even though she knew…no one was safe anywhere.
He took her home and parked in front of her unit, right next to the car she hadn’t driven in that day.
Madison unlocked the door and greeted Missy the Cat.
Her precious baby was waiting for her like she always was.
She’d gotten the cat as a baby, back after the shooting.
She had just not wanted to keep coming home to an empty apartment.
Madison had been so afraid to be alone back then.
She’d almost panic if she was alone. And if she didn’t know where her friends were.
It had taken her a long time to just get to be okay with living her life again. Trauma…didn’t just go away. It never would.
Thunder rattled the walls practically, as Madison turned on all the lights. That was something she’d probably always do—keep lights on. Dark…the dark night scared her more now than it used to.
And that fear had just deepened after Wilson.
Wilson.
Hope had been digging into Steve Wilson. And his friends. And since Kimball had done what he had done—they had names to go on. “One thing I’ve wondered about. Brianna Claireson’s statement the night at the Barratts…”
“What? That woman—I tend to avoid her whenever possible. I think she felt me up once. Damned near pissed myself trying to get away from her.”
“Lol. You are just her type. Tall, hot, strong, a cop, and not rich. Brianna likes to go slumming. We all know that. I seriously pity Samia, Summer, and Eden being related to that woman now. But…She said something…said Trey and all of his friends. Who are those friends? The guys he was with that night? But weren’t some of them just paid thugs?
Heather said that specifically. And some were involved with Eastman.
Bonnie’s statement matched Zoey’s on that—they were hired thugs, too.
Kimball said…the people out of Wichita Falls were using the TSP as foot soldiers, right? ”
“Yes. Go on.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against her kitchen island while she rocked the cat for a moment.
Missy only tolerated that for so long at times.
Madison had held Heather’s baby tonight, and held Miguel’s.
Hope had gotten her thinking: what did she want from her future?
Did she want a family some day? Kids? Haldyn and Powell were already talking about future children.
Zoey and Powell were due within weeks of each other, Zoey had the two kids she and Murdoch were raising now, and Shelby had a beautiful baby girl already.
Her friends were entering different stages of their lives. Madison just kept…working. Maybe she didn’t want her entire focus to be on the TSP? It had been for years—and what had that gotten her?
Scars. Pain. Trauma. Nightmares. Fear she was going to lose the ones she loved at a moment’s notice.
Maybe…maybe she didn’t want to keep living like that?
Maybe…she did want her own family some day?
Beautiful babies to hold close. Miguel’s baby girl had been babbling for her mama again.
And Hope had been there. Hope didn’t even realize that she looked like she was that baby’s mother now.
That Miguel’s kids came to Hope when they needed something first. That she and Miguel passed that baby girl back and forth like they had done so from day one.
They looked like a family. And she didn’t think Hope even realized that yet.
But…Hope would. Madison wondered if maybe it was trauma causing Hope to not see it, too. Hope was tunnel visioned on Heather. And from what she’d said tonight, she had been for a long, long time.
Steve Wilson. It all circled around him.
“Steve Wilson raped Heather. At least once. Hope told me that night…and he said…I think he slipped Heather something in her drink one night. What if he’s done that before—and it was never consensual at all?
There are other women out there. And I think…
I think Brianna’s statement…I have a copy of it here.
” It took her a moment, but she found it.
“Brianna said ‘Trey and Steve and Kyle and all their stupid school friends—they were friends with my brother forever.’”
“And? She and Trey are half-siblings.”
“But…Brianna’s brother was also Bankes Claireson.
He was friends with Trey. What if…they were all friends?
And the Kyle she referenced was Kyle Scott?
” Bankes Claireson had almost killed several people—including the governor’s wife.
And was responsible for some of the OPJ ring, to begin with.
She strongly suspected he’d gotten his share of the supply from Trey Grundenman. It made perfect sense.
“You think this goes all the way back to the Scotts?”
“Probably. Everything is connected. It has to be. I fully think Jarrod was right. I think there has been bad stuff going on in Finley Creek and surrounding areas for years.” Madison pulled out another list. The one she had been working on in her spare time.
“And…these names. I think they just came up against something they couldn’t fight against.”
She handed the list over. “Look. Every year for thirty-five years, cops around here have gone missing. Most were found dead—and half of those were called accidents. But…they are freak accidents, Dom. Things like that just don’t really happen like that.
And if the cops are disappearing—who else is?
Kimball made it very clear stuff was happening around here—long before Hope was even born.
I assume me, too, but I am five years older than she is, so… possibly not?”
She laid out the paperwork she’d thought was the most significant for him to look at. He had that particular expression on his face. She privately thought of it as his bulldog face. He only made that face when he was about to dig in to something and not come up for air until he had defeated it.
“You’ve been digging into this for a while.”
“Yes. Since…the Scott case. Right…after the shooting. Someone had paid them and I—I had to do something.” She’d lain in the hospital room, a bullet hole in her back, and thought about who would have hurt them and why. She’d been working on finding those answers ever since.
They knew the main ones, but…one man was still out there. “What if the final shooter is connected to Trey Grundenman, too? What if it was him?”
“That is something I’m going to find out, sweetheart. You have my word.”
Then he was pulling her close, and she was about to do the stupidest thing of her life by kissing him.
His phone rang.
He jerked back and answered.
Madison did the smart thing. She retreated.
“I’ll be right there.” He stood, and cursed. Madison practically jumped as she looked at him.
“What’s wrong?”
“That was the ME. I need to go…help identify a DB.” He just looked at her. Madison suspected she knew what was happening next. “You are coming with me. I’m not letting you out of my sight. Not now.”
“Who?”