Chapter 39

THIRTY-NINE

Gulf Shores, Alabama

Thursday, September 26

9:40 a.m.

"Look who's still alive." Leigh knocked gently on the parted room door, half-in, half-out.

Detective Moore attempted to sit up in the hospital bed, washed out by white sheets, scratchy blankets, and barely fluffed pillows. She flinched under the movement. Getting stabbed would do that. For a while. Her short hair clumped in pieces. Unwashed and coated in a thin layer of human grease. "Thanks to you, from what I hear."

"Couldn't have you dying on me." Leigh made her way fully inside, letting the door close behind her, and pulled up a seat. Though not without some pain of her own. The sling bracing her arm against her chest was already uncomfortable, and she'd only been fitted with it thirty minutes ago. She hit her elbow on the chair arm on the way down and ground her teeth to keep her annoyance at bay. "Too much paperwork."

"She got you too, huh?" The detective lay back against her pillows and closed her eyes. As if the past week had suddenly caught up with her all at once.

"Knife here." Leigh pointed to her shoulder. Then her belly. "Punch here. Tore one of my sutures out. Bitch."

"I hope you stabbed her back," Detective Moore said.

"No. But I managed to get a few good hits in. I think I broke her nose. Seems I have terrible taste in friends." It was nice. Having someone to compare battle wounds with. At least, someone who wasn't trying to kill her at the same time. Of course, she had her team. Director Livingstone, her brother. They were an integral part of her being able to do her job, but neither of them saw much fieldwork. There was a special kind of bond that built between those who did. The kind that would last years. "I never did get to hear about what you discovered by talking to Samuel Thornton's sister. Was you getting stabbed your way of avoiding a hard conversation?"

"I could've just died. Then you'd never hear what I have to say." The detective's laugh strangled halfway up her throat. Too much effort. "There was something significant about the timing of her visit though. From what I was able to learn, Maryanne Thornton has only visited her brother two times in their lives since they aged out of the system. According to her, they made a promise years ago. To move on and forget everything that'd ever happened growing up with their mother. But Maryanne broke that promise. Twice. Once last summer when she came to tell him their mother had died, and again almost four weeks ago. To tell him she'd found their biological father."

"The timing isn't a coincidence." The catalyst. That key piece of information they'd been looking for from the killer's past. "Samuel Thornton's old life was colliding with his new one. Bringing back old memories. The stress of seeing his sister must've triggered the cycle. He killed Poppy last summer after Maryanne's first visit then went after Ava and Ruby and Saige within the past two weeks."

"And two innocent lives paid the price," the detective said.

"Answers don't really make it any better, do they?" Unfortunately, there were still a lot of questions begging for her attention. Leigh framed her elbow with her uninjured hand. "What about the hair we took from Samuel Thornton's shower drain? Was he able to identify the last sample?"

"He was, but not from the sample provided from Saige Fuentes's home," the detective said. "I had a gut feeling, so I had Pierce compare it to one of Ava's collected during the initial search of the Portman house, and I was right. Seems everything she told you about what happened between them was true. If she'd just come to us after the assault had occurred, everything that went down might've been avoided."

"I'm not so sure." Leigh thought back to another serial offender, one she'd chased over two decades. "In my experience, people like Samuel Thornton go to extreme lengths to hide what they really are, but they usually fail. I think Poppy Slater is proof of that."

"Maybe you're right." Detective Moore let her eyes droop slightly, signaling for Leigh's own body that she'd been put through the wringer, too. "The forensic unit was able to pull DNA from the balcony handrail of Samuel Thornton's beach house. No prints, but there was blood in the wire where she cut her hand. Seems she wiped down the guardrail during her cleaning stint but couldn't get deep enough into the porous wire."

"She was determined. I'll give her that." Though Leigh couldn't confidently say they had the right killer. While they had the correct amount of pieces to this puzzle, some didn't seem to fit right. "They discharged me a little while ago. I'm going to lockup to talk to Elyse. Want to break out of here, Detective?"

The detective attempted a smile. "We almost died together. You can call me Henrietta."

She couldn't help but recognize the difference between this partnership and the one she'd had with Elyse. She supposed there was a reason for that. That maybe deep down she'd known Elyse had been keeping something dark and violent from her. She just hadn't wanted to look too closely, afraid the ghosts of her past still had a grip on the present. "All right. Want to break out of here, Henrietta?"

"I'd like that." Detective Moore nodded. "But it seems you're going to have to face her on your own again. They spotted an infection in one of my wounds. I'm going to be out for the count for a few more days."

"In that case, I'll keep you on speaker." Leigh struggled out of her seat with one good arm and a whole new set of sutures across her belly. Director Livingstone had extended her medical leave, for obvious reasons, and with the detective's insistence on keeping Leigh on as a consultant, they had everything they needed for the prosecutor to put Elyse Portman away for a very long time. It seemed there wasn't much left for her to stick around for, but Leigh felt the need to do so. "I'll check in on you later. Any favorite snacks I can get you?"

"I'm good." Detective Moore gave another half-hearted smile Leigh was sure was brought on by the good pain killers.

"Call me if you change your mind. Same number, new phone." She headed for the door she'd come through and grabbed for the handle. "Think I could add that to my expense sheet as a consultant?"

"The crime lab released Ruby's remains yesterday," the detective said from behind. "There's going to be a funeral. Tomorrow. Doctors said I can make it as long as one of the nurses attends with me."

Leigh pulled up short, turning back. Every cell in her body wanted to get back home, to her own bed, to fix things with her brother and father. But there was a question in the detective's statement. One that felt significant despite the fact they were no longer working together. She nodded confirmation. "Send me the address and time. I'll be there."

Detective Moore let her leave then, and she paused on the other side of the door. She hadn't gotten her answer about the new phone. Nah. It could wait.

Leigh met the ride-share out front, ignoring the blatant stare of the driver as she cut through the hospital wristband with her recently-released-from-evidence pocketknife. She shoved the plastic into her blazer. Her physician had signed her discharge paperwork nearly an hour ago. She didn't have any reason to supply a reason, but she was in a good mood for someone who'd nearly been killed by her best friend. "If the police ask, you never saw me."

That got him to keep his eyes on the road.

Within twenty minutes, Leigh was back in front of the brown brick building of the Gulf Shores Police Department. Inmate visitation hours were on Wednesdays between nine and ten in the morning, but considering she'd been the one to arrest Elyse, she wouldn't really consider herself a visitor. After signing in at the front desk, she followed a uniformed officer to a small interrogation room. Where Elyse was already waiting.

Her friend hadn't changed much in the days since they'd last been face to face. But the orange jumpsuit wasn't doing anything good for Elyse's coloring. Leigh crossed the threshold, nodding to the officer holding the door for her. He would stand guard outside until she was finished.

"I like your new pajamas." Leigh took her seat, careful not to hit her elbow on the chair arm this time. "They go really well with the bruises and stitches on your face. That looks like it hurts."

Cuffs rattled against the steel table as Elyse leaned back, but she couldn't get far. Probably couldn't even stand straight if she wanted. It was a good look on her. "What are you doing here, Leigh?"

"Came to visit my friend. See how you're faring," she said.

Elyse spread her palms as wide as she could. "Well, no one will tell me where my daughter is. I don't have any money to pay a defense lawyer, so I'm stuck with a public defender who, as far as I can tell, has an inmate fetish, and I was just told my husband killed himself four days ago."

It was a hard-knock life when you set out to commit murder. "To be fair, we thought you were dead. We were looking for your remains rather than focused on giving you the bad news. As for Ava, she's safe. You'll be able to see her after you're sentenced."

Elyse didn't seem to have a response to that. As though she knew as much as Leigh did that her daughter would end up in the foster system. That there wouldn't be any visitations.

"The prosecutor has all the evidence he needs, Elyse. The rope you tied me to that chair with came back with a mountain of Samuel Thornton's skin and DNA. Strands of his hair were found in the duffle bag in the storage room beneath your house, and the nasal sedative you gave me is a chemical match to the one Samuel Thornton was dosed with just before his death. A jury is going to try and convict you of Samuel Thornton's murder, plus attempted murder of Detective Moore and myself." Despite the events of the past few days and the streaking pain in her shoulder, Leigh didn't want any of it. Because Elyse was right. A parent should go out of their way to protect their family, but how far was too far? "Are you ready to tell me the truth about what happened?"

"I already told you the truth," Elyse said. "It's all in my statement I gave to the police when they untied me from the dresser."

"I requested a geofence warrant. If you're not familiar with Sensorvault, it's the largest database of GPS signals. Law enforcement is able to narrow down a time and place for any single device." Leigh wanted to shrug her shoulders—to project an overall sense of calmness opposite the internal storm—but she wasn't a masochist. "Once we have that, we'll know exactly who else was in the area around Samuel Thornton's murder."

"Even if there was someone else there, you wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about it." Elyse locked that dark gaze on her. Her face smooth and assured. "No jury in the country is going to ignore a confession or a guilty plea."

"All right. Then tell me about the pool of blood left in your living room on Saturday morning." At this point, Leigh would normally present crime scene photos to make her point, but she'd never actually been officially invited into the investigation. "You were setting up Wesley, weren't you? Making it look as though he had something to do with your disappearance."

A scoff punctured across the table. Elyse looked away, just for a moment. "Eighteen years of marriage, and it turns out I was the only one invested. My husband sold our entire life off because he couldn't keep it in his pants. He's lucky I was more bent on killing Samuel Thornton than him. Then the coward has to go and shoot himself."

Leigh wasn't going to comment on the coward part. There were a lot of reasons why someone might take their own life, but Elyse wasn't interested in any of them. "You had a plan. Kill Samuel Thornton, convince police Wesley murdered you with the blood, and then what? You and Ava would live happily ever after?"

A weariness flooded Elyse's expression. "I had all the details worked out. I've been hiding cash for the past four years. As many times as Wesley told me he would never have another affair, there's always been a part of me that wondered if he'd meant it. I couldn't support us on my job alone. I needed reassurance. So I scrimped and I saved everything I could. Almost a hundred thousand dollars. It would've been enough."

"What about the scratch behind Wesley's ear? There's no evidence to suggest he got it while unloading the dishwasher in your kitchen as he told police," Leigh said. "And the coroner wasn't able to recover any DNA of an assailant."

"He told me he'd caught himself on a nail taking out the trash." Elyse's laugh fell flat. "Funny thing about concussions. They start healing pretty quickly. The brain is amazing like that. And soon, you start getting your memories back." She tried to swipe at her face, stopped by the cuffs. "Wesley told me about the affair Monday morning, the same day I was assaulted by Samuel Thornton. I was on my way out the door to find Ava. My emotions were already running high. I was worried about our daughter, and Wesley tells me he's being blackmailed by a woman he slept with at a conference a few months ago. I lost it. I shoved him because I just needed him out of my way. He hit the wall, and one of the family photos we had hanging there shattered. The glass cut him as it fell. He must've cleaned it up while I was out. Guess he should've kept his promise. Because look where we are now."

Where they were now. One parent dead. The other arrested for murder. And Ava would be the one to shoulder it all. Alone. "I know why you felt you needed to kill Samuel Thornton, Elyse. I just wish you would've come to me first." Leigh used her knees to push back the chair and stand. "I'll see you at trial in a few months."

"Leigh, wait." Elyse slapped her hand across the table, jarring her cuffs. The officer on the other side of the door shifted to get a view inside, but Leigh waved him off. "There's something I need you to do."

"What could you possibly want from me, Elyse? You tried to kill me." Exhaustion sucked at her insides then. She was done with Elyse. Done with this case. She would attend Ruby's funeral tomorrow and go the hell home to finish recovering. For real, this time.

"I know, but this is important." A sense of urgency took control of Elyse's voice. "I need you to look after Ava for me. Until I'm released. I need you to be there for her."

"What do you mean look after her?" Leigh asked. "She's going to go into foster care, Elyse. Social services is already drawing up the paperwork."

"No. You need to adopt her." Elyse's urgency intensified. "Please. She's going to need you. You lost your mom to suicide and your father went to prison. No one in the system is going to be able to take care of her the way you can. You're the only one who can help her. I'll sign whatever papers I have to to surrender my parental rights. But I need you to do this. For her. Please. You've always wanted to be a mom. Now's your chance."

That truth hit harder than Leigh expected, and in her heart, she already knew her decision. It was one that'd followed her through this entire investigation. "I'll do what I can."