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Chapter 12
Peyton was at the office until midnight working on Madison's case. Now, at 3 a.m., she had finally put on her pajamas, taken her hair down out of the professional bun she wore and sat on her bed. Her feet ached from the high heels she wore that day. Her eyes burned from the hours of research she had put in and her night still wasn't over, not by a long shot. If she wanted to prove that Madison Stone didn't kill her father, she was going to be working around the clock until she could find a way to put some holes hole in the prosecutor's case.
Madison had no alibi. Her story of taking some vacation time and not being available by phone didn't help her case. Everyone Peyton knew had a cell phone nowadays. The hotel that Madison claims to have stayed at had no record of her staying there, just as Madison said they wouldn't. She paid with cash and had not made her reservation ahead as most would when planning a vacation. She had just stopped on her drive when she got tired and found a place to stop. Being a small operation, the hotel manager said that most of his clientele paid by cash, and since most preferred privacy, no names were usually taken when the room was paid up front.
Peyton's view of this case became dimmer by the minute as she checked further into Madison's story. No one knew where she was, no one could vouch for her at the hotel, she drove her own car and paid cash. There was no trail to follow. Unfortunately Madison had a reason to want Pierce Stone dead. It was the oldest reason in the world - money. Lots of money.
Madison was in sorry shape as far as finances went. Getting her hands on Stone's money would have solved a lot of problems for her. From what Peyton saw, the possibility of Madison killing her father was not only present but plausible.
The files were opened and paperwork spread out over her bed so Peyton could see everything she would be dealing with. This wasn't going to be a simple case. Slipping on her wire-rimmed glasses, Peyton folded her legs under her and took a sip of the cold coffee that sat on her nightstand, Peyton worked. She had gotten used to the long days and longer nights of work, but this was the case that could make her career. She had to win if she wanted to become a partner in the firm any time soon.
The fax machine beeped and paper began to spit out. Peyton had been waiting for the prosecutor to send her the documentation the police had compiled in order to charge Madison. Circumstantial evidence wasn't enough to arrest her. They had to have strong evidence proving Madison had killed her father.
Peyton reached over and pulled the first sheet off the machine. It was the itemized list of Madison's belongings that had been checked in at the time of her arrest. Peyton scanned through the list. Wallet, lipstick, loose change, medication, nothing on the list seemed out of the ordinary for a woman's purse.
It had been checked in by Officer Jerry Sterno and supervisor Sheriff Brody. It had been checked back to the accused by Officer Sam Tyner. Her eyes narrowed, her brows drew together as she read the paper. The police had been sloppy. The lists didn't match. Madison's medication was missing on the check out list.
Quickly, Peyton reached for the next fax. It was the one she was waiting for, a copy of the will. Pierce Stone had a will in which he left Madison some sort of old box. It didn't seem like something you would kill someone over, but perhaps it contained something more valuable. Something that more than one person would want. The question hung in her mind as she read the will thoroughly.
The will was clear and concise. The estate was to be sold off. The monies received from the sale were to be given to specific charities as were any of his liquidated funds. So the man felt the need to clear his conscience by giving to those in need after he took from so many when he lived.
Peyton wasn't exactly Pierce Stone's biggest fan, but she knew if anyone knew the truth behind her wanting this case, she would get taken off of it immediately. Her personal feelings aside, the man was a greedy and selfish bastard. It wasn't a personal opinion, she told herself, those were the same adjectives anyone in town would use to describe the man.
She continued reading and found an addendum to the will. She closed her fist tight when she found the police's ammunition to accuse Madison. Stone named Madison as his killer if he should be found dead under any unusual circumstances. It was the wording of the will that really caught Peyton's attention. "If I am found dead under questionable circumstances and not from natural causes, please look to my daughter, Madison Stone, as she would have the most to gain from my demise." It was odd and struck her as something to look into deeper.
"Now why would a man, who wouldn't acknowledge Madison's mere existence when he was alive, make a point of naming her, not only as his daughter, but as his killer before he was even dead?" It didn't add up, Peyton thought, something more was going on here and she was going to find out what.
It was happening again. Her past was coming back to haunt her only this time she is alone in the house with no help in sight.
Madison saw herself sink to her knees below the window. Those eyes were just outside of the glass staring in at her. The darkness of the room surrounded her. The chill to the air left her shivering. Madison knew there was no escape. She would once again be forced to face the night and the demon that watched over her.
Madison was shaking, her body clammy with fear. When she woke, the room was dark and cold. She must have slept for a few hours, Madison concluded as she rubbed her forehead and slowly sat up. The dream seemed so real. The fear still made her heart pound. She could feel those eyes still watching her.
The embers in the fireplace were barely glowing now and the chill in the air froze her to the bone. Wrapping the quilt tightly around her shoulders, Madison slipped her shoes back on and made her way into the kitchen. She would need to bring more wood in from the back porch if she didn't want to freeze to death before morning.
The kitchen was illuminated by the moon through the large window. She could see the battered table and chairs and the countertops that made a U around the room. The corners were dark and eerie and the silence in the house made her ears ring.
Madison opened the back door and stepped out onto the porch. The screech of the cat caused her to jump almost out of her skin. Madison's heart flew to her throat as she let out a shriek and plastered her body against the iced-over side of the house. The cat bolted across the porch, over the wall and out of sight.
"Damn cat!" Madison muttered as she tried to regain her breath.
She had to walk across the backyard to the storage area to get the dry wood from inside the small shack her mother used to store any excess. Madison looked around the porch hoping Matt had brought some up closer to the house.
"No such luck," she said to herself as she took the first step into the cold open yard.
Matt wouldn't have known the wood was there. Hell, looking at the shack, she wasn't sure there was any there, much less that it would be dry. Madison crossed her fingers and hoped she would find at least enough to get her through the night. In the morning, she would pile up as much as she could inside the corner of the kitchen.
She got lucky, Madison thought when she opened the door and found the shack half filled with wood. Keeping her fingers crossed still, she stepped into the shack and began sorting through the piles. The logs on top were soaked as were the logs on the bottom but the ones buried in the middle had hope. Carefully, she made new stacks of the wet wood and bundled up piles that were dry enough to be usable for the night, then piles that she would move inside in the morning.
Madison worked quickly. Her hands became numb from touching the ice covered wood. Her body ached from the cold and her nose began to run, causing her to sniffle over and over again. She could see her breath, feel her bones freeze and hoped she would get back inside before she became so cold she froze to the logs of wood in her arms.
It was the time he needed to put his plan for her into motion.
Fifteen very long cold minutes later, Madison came back into the house. Her arms were loaded with firewood as she kicked the back door closed behind her. The glow from the living room caused her to pause. That old familiar finger of fear stroked down her spine. She could hear the crackle of the fire. The scent of the pine wood burning filled her nostrils.
Taking a breath, Madison forced herself to move. Slowly, cautiously, she made her way to the doorway. Her heart was pounding. The blood rushed out of her head. Her body went numb as Madison stood frozen in her tracks staring at the blazing fire that had been almost completely burnt out moments before.
The giggle caught in his throat as he watched in the shadows while Madison's panic set in. It was better than he remembered. She had always been so easily frightened, but it seemed she was more so now. He had been worried he would be out of practice with her or that she would have gotten over her fears, but was pleasantly surprised to find that neither were the case. Madison was still as jumpy as ever.
Her eyes darted around the room, the wood spilled from her arms and clattered to the floor. Madison knew the fire had gone out. She knew there had been no wood in the room, or in the kitchen. Someone had gotten in, Madison thought and looked around for some sign that she wasn't alone.
"Matt?" She yelled out, only to be met with silence.
Yes, he thought, call out for your protector. He's not here and he won't be able to save you. He can't kill her, not just yet.
Perhaps he wouldn't need to, just scare her good, he thought, just make her think she's gone mad. By the time he was done, no one would believe her, even if she ever found out the truth about her parents. It was an entertaining thought, to continue the game of torturing her. She had always made it so much fun as a child. Perhaps now that she was all grown up, he could make the game more interesting.
She had gotten close to finding him once, too close. In the attic, he had been afraid she would discover him as she rummaged through her mother's things, but dear ol' Matty came up in the nick of time. Now Matt McKennan, there was the real game. Finally being able to pick off the McKennan's one by one was the ultimate goal. Madison was a good release, a nice practice toy, but the McKennan boys, now that was going to be the real thrill. He slipped back out into the darkness without a sound.
Madison scooped up one of the larger pieces of wood and gripped it tight. Holding it over her shoulder, as if it were a baseball bat, she began to search the house. Every room, every corner she peeked in. Every shadow she jumped at and clutched the log tighter. Nothing, she thought as she came back around to the living room where the fire continued to blaze. No one was there. Maybe she had been mistaken. Maybe she had been so tired and with the medication, maybe the fire hadn't been completely out. Maybe something sparked the embers to blaze back up. She knew it was a long shot.
Madison knew she was trying to talk herself into believing that everything was fine and dandy. She knew that wasn't going to happen. Someone had been there. Someone had been watching and waiting for her. She loosened her grip on the log and let the wood slide slightly in her hand.
"Ouch!" She cried as the sticker lodged into her finger and dropped the log. "Just what I need," Madison moaned and sucked on her finger where the splinter had buried itself.
She moved carefully through the dimly lit room to the bathroom, knowing her mother kept everything needed in the medicine cabinet. The room was dark, but like always, Candace had a stash of candles for her ritual bubble baths in there. Madison lit a match and found one of the tall fat candles on the back of the toilet. The small room lit up and Madison opened the mirrored cabinet. Reaching up to grab the tweezers she stopped. Her eyes widened and hand shook. Her own migraine medication was sitting there alone on a shelf, the label with her name on it staring back at her.
Driving home, he was nervous. Matt hadn't seen his son in months and now it wasn't under the best circumstances. He should have gone back to D.C. when he had gotten a break a month ago. Lindsey invited him and he declined the offer. He hadn't been comfortable in that town since he had left. For good reason, Matt had thought Josh was better off without him. Now, he was all the kid had.
Slowly, Matt pushed the door open to the room and saw the small form sitting in the bed. His legs were curled to his chest under the covers and from the swollen eyes and red nose, Matt knew he had been crying. He looked down at the box he held in his hand and wondered if it was a good time to give it to him. Josh's birthday was months away yet and he had been saving it for then, but he thought maybe it would help now. Matt wondered if he was doing the right thing.
"Daddy?" The small voice said from the dimly lit room.
"Hey kiddo," Matt greeted the boy and walked in, knowing his son needed him. "How are you feeling?"
Their conversation was strained and uncomfortable, but they muddled through. Josh told Matt about the crash, but nothing could ease the pain of telling him of his grandparent's death. Matt told him about his new room and reassured his son they would find a way to make it right between them. He waited to tell Josh of his grandparents. The kid had been through enough for one day.
"Gran & Grumps were pretty cool... they talk a lot," Josh said.
Matt closed his eyes and nodded, the news wouldn't wait. "Josh... they didn't make it...you were the only one to survive the crash." It broke his heart to tell him, but he had no choice. Josh needed to know.
"You've got a whole family you barely know that loves you. We'll figure this all out together, Josh. We're all going through a lot and I want you to know, I'll be here for you, just like Travis and Cassie will be. Talk to me and we'll find a way to make this home for you." It was the best he could do at the moment. He had lost so much. He couldn't take losing his son, too.
In the early morning, Daniel had stayed at the hospital, he wanted to see to whatever was needed and said he would be home shortly. Matt and Travis had to get to work. They sat staring at the notepad between them. The kitchen seemed so empty now, so lonely knowing their parents wouldn't be walking through that door.
It had been their home, their family home, but it was their parents that made it that way. It would never be the same, Matt thought as he looked out the window at the darkness. He felt as if a void was taking over his life and spiraling out of control. Cassie placed her hand on his shoulder to bring him back to the conversation at hand. They had decisions to make.
"Mom and Dad would have wanted it this way," Matt said softly with Cassie and Travis in agreement. A small simple service that celebrated their parent's lives would be held. A celebration was the opposite of how any of them felt at that moment, but they knew their parents would want to be remembered for their good deeds and charitable lives.
"Josh will want to be here," Cassie reminded Matt softly and took a seat between the two men.
Matt shook his head. "No, Josh has been through enough, he is too young to deal with so much sadness."
Cassie had been the one to take Josh back to the hospital earlier for a follow up visit. She had followed him out to the parking lot and convinced him he needed to think of Josh. That was the only thing keeping him going at the moment, his son needed him and it was now up to him to do something he hadn't done before. He would be the father that Josh needed him to be, but he needed an anchor to help him and she wasn't there.
Once the decision on the services were made, Matt left the house. Sitting around and dwelling on the night before wasn't going to help him get through this. Letting Travis know where he was going, Matt headed off to the hospital to check on Josh. On the way to the hospital, Matt made a detour, he needed to check on his anchor before he went any further, and turned down the pot-holed dirt road.
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