Chapter 18 #2
Trudeau was in Massachusetts in September.
Leroux vividly remembers meeting with Trudeau in his church, the way he controlled the conversation and quickly began to lose his mask when pushed too hard.
Now everything is coming together—they have a real case against him for at least being an accomplice in Richard’s murder, but there is no way he is the Jeremy from Melissa’s journal.
A sovereign God does not allow for coincidences.
Sister Moreau said it herself, and Leroux finds himself agreeing with the sentiment more and more. Something told him right from the beginning that the Jeremy in Melissa’s journal was the person they were after, and now he’s all but sure of it.
The conversation with Kathryn plays out in his mind over and over, an endless stream of truths that even she didn’t realize she was harboring.
It’s become clear to him that Melissa’s killer knows enough about him, about Wren, and about Philip and Jeremy’s connections to set them chasing shadows that aren’t there.
At the very least, this guy has done his homework.
But how did he get that DNA? And was he trying to frame Jeremy or Philip?
Using Jeremy’s name as his cover with Melissa was the biggest mistake he could have made.
It’s an avoidable risk he never should have taken, letting his arrogance get in the way of successfully remaining under the radar.
His grandstanding could prove fatal for him.
See, this killer could have never known that Melissa went back home every night and told his secrets to the pages in her journal.
He was totally unaware that the woman he marked as the perfect victim would be the one to lead the investigation that much closer to him.
Everything they have learned is telling Leroux that Melissa’s killer and Beth’s abductor are the same man and that it’s someone orbiting Jeremy Rose in some way.
He walks out of Resurrection House feeling drained.
It’s as if the fresh air punches the life out of him as soon as he meets it.
With a quick look back, he spots a few stragglers still shooting him angry looks from the windows.
His only comfort comes from the fact that he is one big step closer to finding Beth and catching Melissa’s killer.
His phone rings, and he answers, sliding quickly into the driver’s seat and away from the lingering eyes of the shelter.
“Leroux,” he says gruffly.
“Listen,” Hart begins on the other end, not bothering with any kind of greeting. “I’m going to check out the place where Kathryn’s tracker last pinpointed his location. It looks like it’s in the woods, but it’s an area not far from where I live.”
Leroux exhales sharply, a mix of excitement and a little pride bubbling up under the weight of Sister Moreau’s disappointment. “For the love of God, don’t die out there,” he says, rubbing his face as if he can rub the anxiety away.
“I’ll do my best.” Hart chuckles, half serious.
“Good instinct. He spent some time there. There’s gotta be some evidence, something to help us find him. He isn’t smart; he’s just persuasive.”
Hart lets out a frustrated sigh. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference.”
“I suppose that’s what makes these kinds of guys dangerous,” Leroux quips, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag.
“How’s Dr. Muller holding up?” Hart asks, a note of genuine concern in his voice.
Leroux shakes his head, breathing the smoke out as he opens the window. “She’s tough as shit. I think she knew about Trudeau all along,” he says, looking at Resurrection House again. “I think what’s really getting her is how desperate Rose is to claim full credit.”
“That’s going to be hard for him to do now,” Hart says, sounding smug.
Leroux can’t help but grin at the thought.
“Yeah, this kind of ruins his whole schtick. It’s like a collapsing sandcastle now that we know he’s been lying the whole time.
” Just the thought of Jeremy’s coy grin makes his blood begin to boil.
“He’s been fucking with Muller, taunting her with Richard’s last moments and saying he’s the one who killed him. ”
“And now I hope she gets to tell him that she knows he wasn’t,” Hart says, vindication in his voice.
“Oh, I’ll definitely let her have that satisfaction. I just hope we can manage expectations; Rose never likes to show defeat. He’ll have another thing up his sleeve to poke with. I think he’s involved with this case I got down here.”
“Keep me in the loop on that one, and I’ll keep you updated on what I find. We are close. Trudeau can’t hide forever.” Hart sounds unshakable now, that rookie bravado coming through.
“Keep a level head. Don’t do anything stupid,” Leroux says, authority lacing his words.
He can almost hear Hart’s eyes roll on the other end. “Yeah, yeah. Got it,” he says petulantly.
The phone call ends unceremoniously, and Leroux begins to drive back to the station. There are more threads to pull, more connections to be made, and with each passing moment, Beth’s life continues to hang treacherously in the balance.
The ride is quiet except for the occasional sounds of his fingers flicking cigarette ash and the breeze whooshing in through the open window.
The air is getting colder, but he needs it right now to keep him alert and awake.
He can’t rest now, not when they are inching closer to the truth.
He won’t let Jeremy Rose terrorize this town again, even if it’s just as a puppet master holding the strings.
When he reaches the station, he enters to the usual sounds of chaotic order.
Coffee machines gurgle and spit out lifeblood, officers chatter among themselves, and phones ring in different corners.
He makes his way past it all and heads toward his office, feeling his own phone vibrate in his pocket.
When he pulls it out, it’s a familiar number, one he uses so often he has it saved: the morgue.