The Drowning Child

66

Ren woke up with a start, her chest heaving, slick with sweat.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

She grabbed her cell phone and checked the time. Eight thirty.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

What happened?

Nightmares. Neubig. Brinks. Courtroom. Matt. Gary. Witness box. Faces. Gunfire. Prison. Jesus. Christ. I hate this shit.

She turned to the empty side of the bed. I don’t want to be alone. I’m tired of being alone. I want someone to tell me it will all work out.

Ren arrived at Tate PD at nine, hurrying across the parking lot, struggling with her purse, and her briefcase. The command center had been overtaken by a sense of urgency – voices were raised, detectives were mobilizing.

Sensory overload. Sensory overload.

Her phone beeped with a text, just as she met Paul Louderback rushing toward her, pulling on his jacket.

‘That’s from me,’ he said.

Her phone beeped three more times.

‘What’s going down?’ said Ren.

‘A report just came in,’ said Paul, ‘a body – badly decomposed, as yet unidentified – has been found in Roger Lyle’s house on Richmond Road.’

‘Oh, no,’ said Ren. ‘Oh, fucking, no.’

Ren and Paul drove together to the scene.

‘I thought you said that area was searched during the week,’ said Ren.

‘Because I was told it was,’ said Paul. ‘Wiley again – abandoning his duties. He crossed this off his list.’

‘His wife,’ said Ren. ‘She had a meltdown on Thursday. He had to go tend to her. He probably figured leaving an empty house off his list wasn’t the end of the world. Fuck, though.’

Ruddock was gray-faced, coming down the path as they arrived.

‘Got an ID?’ said Ren.

‘One Franklin J. Merrifield,’ said Ruddock.

‘What?’ said Ren.

‘Looks like an OD: drug paraphernalia around the body.’

‘This is where he’s been hiding out?’ said Ren.

‘He was chained to a radiator,’ said Ruddock. ‘This is where he was being held captive.’

‘Yet supplied with drugs,’ said Ren. ‘So, this has to be connected with his supplier in BRCI. He probably helped him get away, but may have wanted him out of commission and deliberately facilitated the OD. How did they access the property?’

‘No signs of forced entry,’ said Ruddock.

‘Who has keys?’ said Ren.

‘The son – Jimmy Lyle,’ said Ruddock. ‘There are footprints in the back yard and one of the neighbors saw him getting out of a car yesterday on Pleasant Lane – that’s the road at the back of here. He may have come back, found the body and then taken off.’

‘He would only have done that if he had something to hide,’ said Ren. ‘I’d be getting everyone the fuck inside my house if I came home and thought there was a dead body in there.’

‘We’ve put a BOLO out on him,’ said Ruddock.

‘Could Jimmy Lyle have helped Merrifield escape?’ said Ren. ‘Could he have left him here?’

‘No,’ said Ruddock. ‘He was going on vacation, and he needs to sell that house.’

Ren nodded.

‘We spoke with the boss of the real estate agency,’ said Ruddock. ‘The woman handling the property has been away on business for the past week. There were no viewings lined up.’

‘Find out her address,’ said Paul, ‘find out who she lives with, who she works with, who might have access to her keys.’

‘The call between John Veir and Rob Lockwood on the Sunday Merrifield escaped,’ said Ren. ‘What if that was about this? Could... Lockwood have been the supplier? Could this have all been about to hit the fan? Could Merrifield have been about to blow Lockwood’s cover, and Lockwood needed to get him the fuck out of there?’

‘But how does John Veir fit in?’ said Paul.

‘Well, John Veir didn’t reveal the whole fentanyl story to us,’ said Ren, ‘which would totally have bolstered his claim that Merrifield had taken Caleb.’

Her phone beeped with a second email from Bob Freeborn at CVIP.

‘We’ll leave this with you, Ruddock,’ said Paul.

She waited until she was back at her desk to open Bob’s email:

Ren started to look through them. She stopped at one that had a yellow inflatable kiddie’s pool and stepping stones trailing back through the garden.

Where did I see those stones in the grass? That shape?

She closed her eyes.

The stones in the grass.

Darkness. Moonlight. Grass. Wet. I... fell.

Ruddock appeared in the doorway.

‘It’s not just Jimmy Lyle who’s gone AWOL,’ he said. ‘Teddy Veir just called to say that John Veir has been missing since last night. And he left his cell phone at home.’

‘I might know why,’ said Ren. ‘I just got more photos from CVIP and, if I’m right, they were taken in the Veirs’ back garden.’

There were two cars in the Veirs’ driveway when Ren arrived: one was Teddy’s. Ren rang the doorbell. She could see Teddy through the glass, at the bottom of the stairs. She opened up right away.

‘Can I come in?’ said Ren.

‘Of course,’ said Teddy, panic flashing in her eyes. ‘What is it?’

‘Have you had any word from John?’ said Ren.

‘No,’ said Teddy.

‘Who’s here with you?’ said Ren.

‘My friend, Patti.’

Patti Ellis, who you were looking after the night before Caleb disappeared.

You look better than I thought you would.

‘Can we all take a seat?’ said Ren. ‘This is a very difficult subject, but considering everything, I have no choice but to tell you about this. We received photos from CVIP – that’s the Child Victim Identification Program. Your sleeping bag, Teddy, came up as a match with one that was seen in the background of photos of child abuse, dating from the seventies to the nineties.’

‘OK,’ said Teddy, ‘but we wouldn’t have used it during that time. It was years later. Like we said, we never really knew where it came from.’

‘Some of the photos from the garden are more recent,’ said Ren. ‘I’m going to show you parts of some of the photos – obviously, I won’t be showing you anything distressing, but I think you might recognize the background.’

She showed them to Teddy. ‘Yes,’ said Teddy, horrified. ‘That’s our garden.’

Patti Ellis burst into tears. Her body folded in on itself, her head bowed against her knees. Ren and Teddy turned to her.

‘Oh my God,’ said Patti. ‘Oh my God.’

‘What?’ said Teddy. ‘What is it?’

Patti gestured toward the photographs. ‘I remember that time... you were in the hospital, John was in Iraq.’ She looked up at Ren, her eyes filled with pain. She pointed to an arm in one of the photos, where there was a triangle of dark freckles. ‘I know who that is.’

Ren’s heart rate shot up.

‘It’s Jimmy Lyle,’ said Patti.

‘Jimmy Lyle?’ said Ren. ‘Roger Lyle’s son?’

Patti wept. ‘I’m so sorry, Teddy, I’m so sorry. This is my fault – I brought Jimmy into Caleb’s life. I was seeing him back then. He was married, but we had this thing, on and off for years. I didn’t say anything, because I was ashamed, and he didn’t want his wife to find out, and...’

Teddy was momentarily speechless. Then, ‘Did you know about this, though?’ pointing towards the photos, her voice edging immediately into hysteria. ‘That Jimmy was into this?’

‘No!’ said Patti. ‘Of course I didn’t! I trusted him completely!’

‘Did you leave Caleb alone with him?’ said Teddy.

‘Yes,’ said Patti. ‘But not for a second did I think—’

‘How could you not have known?’ said Teddy. ‘How?’

Ren cut in. ‘A lot of people don’t know these things,’ she said. ‘People are very good at hiding those parts of themselves.’

Teddy turned to Patti. ‘You were supposed to be looking after my son!’

‘I was!’ said Patti.

Teddy looked at Ren. ‘Do you have photos of Caleb? ‘Have you seen any? Is it definite?’

‘No,’ said Ren. ‘I haven’t, however, received all the photos, yet.’

Teddy turned to Patti. ‘Does John know about this?’

‘No!’ said Patti. ‘Wouldn’t he have told you?’

‘No,’ said Teddy. ‘He likes to protect me from things.’ She glanced at Ren, and got a compassionate look in return.

Shit... if John Veir knows about this, and knows that Jimmy Lyle is back in town... maybe John has gone to find him. Or maybe if John found out Jimmy left town last week, he might have thought he took Caleb with him. He didn’t tell us, because he wanted the chance to confront him.