I’m not sure of anything anymore. Aiden, Isaac, Noah—or some combination thereof. My fingerprints magically appearing on murder weapons without my knowledge. I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone.
“The fingerprint match was clean,” Ricketts says. “I found the murder weapon, that hunting knife, myself. And I delivered it directly to our forensics team. I watched the guy run the analysis, Murph. Isaac didn’t tamper with that. So how could Isaac get your fingerprints on the knife?”
“How could anybody? But somebody did. Probably easier for him than anybody else.”
Ricketts steps back from the cell bars, her focus dropping to the floor.
“You don’t believe me,” I say.
She shakes her head slowly. “I’m not ready to believe our chief of police is a serial killer. No.”
I stare at her. She looks suddenly uncomfortable, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
“He got to you,” I say. “He told you what a great job you’re doing. How a big promotion could be in the works. A bright future. ‘But just watch out for Jenna Murphy! Don’t believe anything she says. She’s bad news. She’ll take you down.’ Is that about it, Officer Ricketts?”
“No, that’s not it.” Some steam in her voice, color to her face. “I’m following the facts wherever they lead.”
“Including my prints being found on that hunting knife.”
“Yeah, including that.” Her eyes rise to meet mine.
A gulf between us, suddenly, the cop on the one side, the suspect on the other.
“So we’re done?” I say. “You and me?”
“I told you, Murphy. I’ll follow the facts wherever they lead.”
Another one bites the dust. First Noah, now Ricketts. My “team” has been reduced to a team of me, myself, and I.
“Then I have some facts for you to follow,” I say. “Aiden’s mother. Gloria Willis.”
“Yeah?”
“She was killed in a hit-and-run,” I say. “Find out when.”
She thinks about that, nods. “I can do that.”
“And while you’re at it,” I say, “find out whether Isaac or Noah Walker was adopted.”
99
JOSHUA BRODY, ONCE Noah Walker’s attorney and now mine, walks into my holding cell as Lauren Ricketts leaves. He looks around and then looks at me.
“Thanks for coming in the middle of the night,” I say.
“Part of the job.” He scratches the back of his neck, his eyelids heavy. He looks around again. “So is this the cell where Noah supposedly confessed to Chief James?”
I shake my head. I’m not in the mood. Joshua beat me up pretty good over that during the cross-examination.
“Talk to me,” I say.
“The arrest is solid,” he says. “Your prints on the murder weapon are sufficient for probable cause.”
“We don’t know it’s the murder weapon,” I counter. “They don’t have DNA back yet. We don’t know that it’s Annie’s and Dede’s blood on the knife.”
Brody looks at me like he would look at a child who just doesn’t get it. “The hunting knife was covered in blood and was found with the bodies,” he says. “You’re right. They haven’t conclusively tied the knife to the dead girls, but c’mon. Dead women with stab wounds, a bloody knife found inside …”
“Did they die of stab wounds? I thought their skulls were crushed.”
“I don’t know,” he says. “Autopsy’s tomorrow. But whatever the cause of death, they have sufficient evidence for an arrest. Remember, they don’t have to show guilt beyond a reasonable doubt until trial.”
The trial. I can’t believe it. I’m going to be tried for murder?
“You have to get me out of here,” I say.
“Best I can do is try to get a reasonable bond,” Brody says. “The hearing’s tomorrow. But on two counts of murder? It will be hard. If you get bond at all, it will be a million dollars. Maybe two million. Which means you’ll need to come up with ten percent. A hundred thousand, two hundred thousand, whatever.”
“Noah Walker bonded out. He was charged with a double murder.”
“Noah Walker had a girlfriend for whom a million dollars was pocket change. I don’t suppose you have a trust fund or anything like that?”
I let out a bitter laugh. I have a little bit of money saved up, but nowhere near that kind of scratch.
“I’ll come back tomorrow,” Brody says. “Unless there’s anything else I can do.”
I drop my head against the wall. But then it comes to me. There is one thing.
“You’re a lawyer,” I say.
“Last I checked, yeah.”
“Maybe you can help me with something,” I say.
100
JOSHUA BRODY RUBS his unshaven face, mulling over everything I’ve just told him.
“So you think the sixth and last Holden Dahlquist had a son. A son who’s running around killing people.”
“That’s my theory, yes. A pretty good one, I think.”
“And you think this boy is the younger half brother of Aiden Willis, the other person whose prints were found on the knife.”