“I completely understand. I don’t know you either.” Bess smiled in a way she hoped was reassuring, but was probably a little manic. “Do you want to get something?” She motioned toward the counter.
“Nah, I’m good. I can’t stay too long.”
“Oh sure.” Bess took a deep breath and plunged straight in. “Well, I guess I’m looking for how Daniel Mills knew your friend. How he knew Margot.”
“Tam probably told you they met through church. And that’s true. But Margot told me he used to come by her house a lot too. He asked her out, which was sort of… well, he was older. And he looks normal enough, but the dude’s a little backward, you know?” Cherish’s dark brown eyes kept cutting from side to side. “So Margot tells him she isn’t interested in anything like that. Well, then he shows up at her front door with flowers telling her momma that they got a date that night. Margot ’bout died. She tells him to leave, but he won’t. Her daddy finally had to ask him to leave. He walks him out and everything.”
“You’re kidding? Is that when she stopped going to church?”
“No, she was still going. But he kept pulling her aside and asking her why she wouldn’t date him. And… Margot said he got a little out of hand. Like eventually he stops asking her out and starts asking her to touch him, you know?”
“I do, yeah.” Bess felt sick inside. Act One. Margot of Antioch spurns the advances of Daniel.
“Eventually she left the church. She couldn’t keep being there with him. And then, well, you know the rest.” Cherish looked over her shoulder at the large windows and surveyed the people passing by outside.
“I can’t believe the police didn’t follow up on this guy. He seems like an obvious suspect.”
“I don’t trust those cops, anyway,” Cherish mumbled, glancing back at the door.
“Oh yeah, Tam told me you knew Detective Howland. That you didn’t trust him.”
“Yeah. You could say I know him. We dated for about two years.” Cherish laughed.
Bess was shocked. She wasn’t prepared for the twinge of jealousy that slithered down into her belly. “I had no idea.”
“Well, I’m not exactly bragging. That man wouldn’t listen to me even if the department wasn’t crooked.”
“What do you mean by ‘crooked’?”
Cherish laughed. “Don’t tell me you think little ole Antioch is some kinda Mayberry. Because, sister, it’s not so. Think about it, outside of this serial killer shit, do you ever hear about any real crime in this town? Ya don’t. And I’m here to tell you it ain’t because it don’t happen. It’s because they make it go away.”
“How’s that? How can they make crime go away?” Bess fully regretted talking to Cherish at this point. The last thing she needed was more wacko conspiracy theories when she already had a whole box full waiting for her at home.
“There’s lots of ways. There’s what they’re doing to Tam, framing an innocent kid. And if a cop commits a crime, well, it really isn’t a crime.”
“Yes, it is,” Bess said.
“Don’t tell me! Tell them. Or really don’t, because you seem sweet and I don’t want you disappearing,” Cherish said.
Bess nodded. She felt numb and naïve and ridiculous. How was she supposed to be catching a god damned serial killer when the idea of crooked cops left her speechless?
“Do you have any proof? Or am I just supposed to believe you?” Bess asked.
“What kind of proof would make you feel better? You think if I had solid proof, I’d be meeting you and not those reporters out there?”
“Maybe talking to a reporter is exactly what we should be doing.”
Cherish laughed. “I’m not trying to bring trouble down like that. The cops like having a nice low-crime city. It makes them look good, it keeps people complacent. No one asks questions when they think things are fine. And all this goes back to why Tam is going to be locked up forever and Daniel Mills is going to keep killing people. Tam asked too many questions.”
“But when the killings continue, the public will know they have the wrong man,” Bess said.
“Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe then it’s a copycat. Shit, I don’t know. It’s not my job to think like they do. But what I know for sure is that the only way to get the cops to say they have the wrong man is to give them hard evidence they can’t ignore. Show them something they can’t possibly brush off. They’ll call you crazy if you let them. Don’t let them.”
“Do you have any ideas how I do that without also getting myself killed?” Bess asked.
“I absolutely don’t. Which is why I’m not doing it.”
“I know Tam was following Mills. But he obviously couldn’t find anything. I don’t know what more I can do.”
“Then my advice is to leave it alone. Take care of yourself.” Cherish shrugged. “I like Tam, he’s a little sweetie. But I’m not going to prison in his place.”
“I can’t ignore it. This isn’t only about Tam, someone’s got Amy Eckhardt. She could still be alive. If there’s even a chance, I need to try.”
“Amy, yeah. Tam thought maybe Vlad had her. I don’t know, she could be a runaway. It happens.”
“Amy didn’t run away,” Bess said.
Bess finished her coffee and said goodbye to Cherish. Talking to her had left Bess even more confused. She hadn’t necessarily trusted Howland before, but she hadn’t suspected the whole department was involved in a cover up. And she didn’t like how much the thought of him with Cherish hurt her feelings.
Bess drove home in silence. She kept imagining Amelia Earhart. Not crashed on the shores of some deserted island, but still in the air, circling. She imagined the fear rising slowly inside her as her fuel levels got lower and lower. Radioing for help, miserably off course, lost and uncertain. Did Fred know how scared she was? Or was it he who panicked first? Bess imagined she kept herself together in the air—she felt safer there, more at ease, more capable of survival. That it wasn’t until she was trapped on land that her fear overtook her. Bess didn’t know where her safe spaces were anymore.
The house was lit up when she arrived and she couldn’t remember if she’d left the lights on or if she should be concerned, and honestly, she no longer cared. Too much had happened for a few lights to worry her much. Nothing in the house seemed out of order.
Bess considered what Cherish had told her. For the police to help, she had to bring them undeniable proof. She had to bring them something tangible they couldn’t turn a blind eye to. She would need to catch him in the act. Or find Amy alive. Both options seemed terrifying.
According to Tam’s notes, Daniel’s young adult classes met on Mondays and Wednesdays at 6 p.m. She could attend tomorrow and see him firsthand. Before she started outright stalking, she thought it might be a good idea to know the man, see if she even thought he was capable of being a killer. She wasn’t willing to discount her own intuition simply because she might be losing her mind.
There were still a few of Tam’s notebooks left in the box and Bess pulled them out and made neat stacks on the carpet. Then one in particular caught her eye. The name on the front read “Greg Leeds.”
“What’s this bullshit?”
The notebook was different from the others. Where they had been basic spiral bound with paper covers, this was a fully bound hardcover journal with a deep blue cover and metallic gold roses growing up the sides. She saw the name “Greg Leeds” written on the side in some sort of white ink. The inside was full of soft cream-colored pages.
Bess opened the book expecting to see the same style of profile as all the other books. She wasn’t far off. It included where he lived and worked, his routines. There was a physical description of him as well as a crude drawing of his face. It even had her date with him noted, a fact that made her skin crawl. Amy wasn’t mentioned until close to the end.