Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
MATTHEW
“Let’s go from the top.” Nico turns to the whiteboard where all the information we’ve gathered since the body of Andrea Porter was found ten days ago is displayed.
“Our victim is on a road trip. She makes random stops, one of which turns out to be Bluebonnet Creek. She walks around, sends some pictures to her parents, which is the norm, and then continues on her way.”
“She stops at the car wash around one in the afternoon,” Paul supplies, since he’s the one who washed her van.
“And then she goes to Reading Nook to grab some coffee, where she spoke to Rebecca Fernandez and Jessica Richards. She tells them about her travels and asks for recommendations in town.” Nico turns to Mary. “Did you manage to talk to Mick yet?”
Mary nods. “Yes. He doesn’t remember her, but one of his waitresses said she served her that night.
She had a burger and fries, and she thinks she remembers Andrea was chatting with a guy at one point, but she’s not sure who it was.
Dark-haired potentially. It was Thursday, which is always busy at The Hut, so I wouldn’t say it’s that out of the norm. ”
“That narrows it down,” somebody comments dryly.
“The other girl who worked that night is out-of-town visiting family, but she should be home next week. I left a message on her voicemail, so I’ll check in with her if I don’t hear from her soon.”
“Do that.” Nico nods, turning to me. “Any news from the coroner?”
“Cause of death is strangulation. She had multiple lacerations and significant bruising on her body, as well as signs of sexual and physical assault. But whoever it was, they’re good, because the coroner couldn’t find any fingerprints or DNA of the killer on our victim.”
Nothing about this adds up. The killer was organized enough not to leave any evidence, and yet he was clearly out for blood. Quite literally. Everything about this abduction and murder screams rushed. So what gives? Did she fight him too much? Or are there maybe two suspects working together?
Nico purses his lips, his eyes growing distant as he thinks. “Was any new evidence found at the dump site?”
“She wasn’t there long. Based on the coroner’s report, we’re assuming eight to ten hours,” Paul comments. “There was a partial footprint, but that’s it. Still trying to figure out the size and brand of the shoe so we can potentially get the size of our killer.”
“The guy who found her is a hunter, and he mentioned there are cottages in the surrounding area. Some belong to the hunting organization and others are privately owned. Try to find the exact addresses and see if there is anybody who might have seen or heard something. Let me know if you find anything.”
Soft murmuring spreads through the room as people start collecting their things and getting to work.
“What do you think?” I ask Nico.
He shakes his head. “Something about this whole thing just seems off, but I can’t quite pin—”
“Williams! Rivera!” Jenkins barks, stopping in the doorway. His eyes are narrowed into tiny slits, cheeks red.
He’s pissed.
The most pissed off he’s been in a while.
“My office,” he grinds out. “Now.”
Without waiting for an answer, he spins on his heel and marches out of the door. Nico and I exchange a look before we follow him. Some of our colleagues give us wary looks, but none of them dare to interfere or say anything.
We slip into Jenkins’s office, and Nico closes the door behind us, the soft click echoing louder than if a bomb exploded.
Jenkins is standing behind his desk, his fingers gripping the back of his chair as he glares at us, the silence stretching as he fumes.
“What did I tell you two at the very beginning of this thing, huh?” He glances from me to Nico and back but doesn’t wait for us to answer before he continues. “One of you screws up, and it reflects on both of you. Didn’t I specifically say that?”
“Yes, Sheriff,” we say in unison, our gazes trained in front of us.
“I didn’t expect much from Williams.” He shakes his head as he starts pacing behind his desk.
“I’ve always known he’s a hothead. A troublemaker.
Good cops don’t let their emotions guide them, and he’s always thought he’s above the law.
But I’d hoped that at least you, Rivera, were smarter than that. Turns out I was wrong.”
Jenkins whirls around suddenly and slams his palms against the back of his chair. “Damien Morris was just here.”
Fucking hell.
I square my jaw, my fingers tightening into fists at my sides. From the corner of my eye, I can see Nico’s body go stiff as well.
“I can see neither of you are surprised,” he spits out. “He formally complained about Williams for abuse of power and an attempt to falsely accuse him of a crime stemming from Williams’s dislike of the fact that his girlfriend used to date Mr. Morris.”
“That’s fucking bullshit.”
The words come out before I can think them through, and the moment they’re out I know it’s the wrong thing to say, but screw it.
Jenkins didn’t call me in to listen to my side of the story.
He won’t care to find out the truth; he’ll just use this opportunity to get rid of me.
The exact thing he wanted from the get-go, and now he has the perfect excuse.
“Sheriff…” Nico tries to intervene, but Jenkins’s furious gaze is fixed on me.
“Did you, or did you not, participate in the investigation of the break-in of your girlfriend’s home?”
“Williams left the crime scene with Jessica Richards after she gave her statement,” Nico counters.
“But he was there during the arrest of the suspect and the interrogation.”
It’s not a question, and we all know it.
“He wasn’t in the room…”
“But he was there.”
I should have seen this coming, but with everything else going on, Damien’s little threat completely slipped my mind. I didn’t think he had the guts to do it. I should have known better. The asshole has a vengeful streak, and what better way to get his revenge than to get me fired.
Dammit.
“You’re suspended without pay until—”
My stomach sinks as his words echo inside my head in tune to my wildly beating heart.
Suspended.
Suspended.
I’m suspended.
“Sheriff…” Nico steps in front of me.
“I don’t want to hear about it.” Jenkins points at his desk. “Your badge and gun.”
A knot forms in my throat, making it hard to breathe.
Slowly, I uncurl my fingers and reach for my weapon, putting it on the desk along with the rest of my things.
I stand straight until he finishes, his words a distant blur. The moment we’re dismissed, I spin on the balls of my feet and get the hell out of his office.
The walls seem to be closing in on me, asphyxiating me.
I barely stop to grab my things from my locker. I can hear Nico call after me, but I can’t stay here.
I race out of the station, tossing my backpack over my shoulder, that one word still ringing in my head as I throw my leg over my bike and kick-start the engine.
Suspended.
Everything I worked for.
Suspended.
Everything I sacrificed.
Suspended.
All gone.
My bike roars to life, and I hit the gas, speeding out of the parking lot.
I need to get the hell away from here before this place swallows me whole. A knot is stuck in my throat, my muscles tense, fingers gripping the handle bars as I speed through the streets and out of the town.
I should never have come back. I should never have thought I could do this. It was stupid to assume I could ever succeed here.
Just my bike, the long road, and the bite of the wind cutting through my jacket, that’s all I need. That and nothing else.
Jessica’s smiling face pops into my head, and that knot grows bigger.
She’ll be fucking disappointed when she finds out what happened.
Becky will never forgive me for leaving. And Chase will have to give some lame-ass excuse to Kyle about why I left without saying a word.
Cursing under my breath, I slow at the clearing until I come to a stop. Putting my feet on the ground, I pull off my helmet as I suck in a deep breath, my shaking fingers running through my hair.
The sun is slowly falling over the horizon, making me realize I’ve been riding for far longer than I thought.
Sliding my hand into my pocket, I pull out my phone, only to find dozens of messages waiting for me.
My heartbeat kicks up a notch, panic slamming into me. I suck in a breath as I just stare at the screen, a sense of unease creeping up inside of me. My fingers grip my phone tightly, and I have to force myself to loosen them so I can unlock it.
Becky:
We’re at Mom’s. You should come too.
Matthew?
Where are you?
This isn’t a joke.
We need you here.
Are you seriously doing this? Again?
You promised.
Chase:
Get your ass here. Now.
My heart beats wildly inside my ribcage, and my palms sweat. I check the timestamp, noticing that the messages were all sent over an hour ago.
Something is wrong.
Very, very wrong.
Bile rises up my throat, leaving a bitter taste on my tongue.
Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I check that the road is clear and then do a sharp U-turn, my bike picking up speed.
Back home.
Back to my family, who needs me.
What the hell happened?
Is Mom okay?
Did she get hurt? Or maybe she hurt somebody else.
I should have probably called, but I didn’t want to waste any precious seconds on talking when I could be driving instead.
My fingers wrap around the handles, the bike speeding up a notch.
Rationally, I know I shouldn’t do it. I can’t risk getting into any more trouble than I’m already in, but I can’t help it.
The bite of the wind is cutting into my body, but it only makes me crave to push harder. Faster.
The drive to the care facility is a blur.
I jump off the bike, my legs feeling heavy, but I push myself forward.
Enter the building. Go to the nurses. Their faces turn solemn the moment they spot me, and I can feel my stomach churn.
One of them leads me to the back and down the hallway to my mother’s room.
My breathing is ragged by the time I come to a stop in the doorway to find the room full. The air is stiff and filled with tension that can be cut with a knife, making the hair on the back of my neck rise.
Miguel’s arms are wrapped around Becky, her head burrowed into his chest as he glides his hand up and down her back.
Chase and Rose are standing on the other side of the bed, her hand in his, fingers intertwined.
Chase’s hand is on Kyle’s shoulder, the boy’s arms wrapped around my brother’s middle.
Mrs. Fernandez is there, holding baby Jackson, tears streaming down her face.
What the hell?
Then I hear it.
The loud beeep pierces through the echo of my wild heartbeat inside my eardrums, and I can feel my stomach sink.
No.
My heart lurches as my gaze darts to the bed, and that’s when I see her.
“Mom?”
She seems so small lying under the blankets. Her face is pale, eyes closed.
Asleep.
That’s it, right?
She’s just asleep.
Just taking a little nap as she always does, tired after a visit.
But even as the thought crosses my mind, I know it’s not true.
My siblings spot me. Becky’s tear-stained eyes meet mine, while Chase’s jaw is set in a tight line.
“M-Matthew…” Becky shakes her head, whimpering.
She’s not asleep.
She’s dead.
Gone.
Forever.
My knees buckle underneath me as I sink to the floor, that familiar guilt slamming into me in full force.
She’s gone.
And once again, I wasn’t here for her.