CHAPTER SIXTEEN

By seven thirty that afternoon, Avery’s hunch was proven to be true. Stefon had not one but two solid alibis for his whereabouts during the timeframe of Alfred Lawnbrook’s murder. A series of video files that had been saved to his computer and heavily edited took up almost three days that—based on new information from the coroner—bookended the suspected time of Lawnbrook’s death. The videos, of course, were about spiders and featured the three tarantula wolf spiders he’d had in the glass case in his living room.

The second alibi had come from Clarissa, who had happily handed her iPhone over to show a series of text messages from Stefon during that same time. And while the texts could have easily been sent from anywhere, it was the two long phone calls that proved most useful.

Stefon was released and went peacefully. Avery nearly felt the need to apologize to him but didn’t bother. She wouldn’t have done it three months ago and, quite honestly, wasn’t sure why she felt the need to do so now. Maybe the three months off had softened her a bit. That or the emotional hell she’d been through over the course of those three months.

Stefon’s release set Avery back to zero. She was only left with vague questions and theories, none of which had yet developed feet. She sat in her old office with Kellaway, Finley, and O’Malley. The space was cramped but Finley seemed to love the fact that his office was being used in such a way. Kellaway, meanwhile, seemed appreciative to be part of such a high-profile case. Still, she was keeping a cool ahead about her and was not holding a grudge toward Avery’s little outburst earlier in the day.

Little by little, Avery was growing to like her quite a bit.

“What about drugs?” Kellaway asked as they tried their best to ping-pong ideas back and forth off of one another.

“What about them?” O’Malley asked.

“Were there any drugs in Lawnbrook’s system?” she asked.

“Toxicology reports say no,” O’Malley answered.

“But maybe there’s an avenue there somewhere,” Avery said. “Stefon claimed Lawnbrook was interested in getting over his fear of spiders. He also insinuated that having sex in the same room where there were spiders might have been an attempt to help with the fear. I’ve also learned that there’s apparently a small online community that is obsessed with spiders. It makes me wonder…if Lawnbrook was willing to confide his secret to Stefon and try any means necessary to overcome this fear, maybe he went elsewhere with it, too. Maybe he did know the killer. Maybe Lawnbrook met him online and the interaction with the spiders was intentional. Maybe it just got out of hand.”

“It’s certainly worth looking into,” O’Malley said.

“Yeah, but that was a shitload of spiders,” Finley said. “You’d think you’d sort of ease yourself into it if you’re trying to get over a fear.”

Avery nodded. It was a good point. Still, the thought of the exposure to the spiders being intentional had legs—especially if Stefon was accurate in just how badly Lawnbrook had wanted to get over his fear.

“What if it was Lawnbrook himself?” Kellaway suggested. “What if he had slowly collected them—either to get over his fear or to impress Stefon Scott?”

“Possible,” O’Malley said. “Finley, can you get someone on that for us? Someone to nose around the Internet to find these weirdo communities. See if you can find any link to Lawnbrook.”

“I’ll sic a few people on it,” Finley said, getting up from the desk.

“And I’m going to get back home,” Avery said. “I’ll do some digging of my own.” She gave Kellaway a little nod of appreciation and then exited the office. She got perhaps five steps away before Kellaway’s voice stopped her from behind.

“Detective Black?” Kellaway asked. “Um, can I ask a favor?”

“What is it?”

“My car broke down three days ago. I’ve been taking the bus to and from work and I was wondering if you could give me a ride?”

“Sure,” Avery said, noting how embarrassed Kellaway seemed to be asking for the favor. “And hey,” Avery added after some thought, “you can drop the Detective Black stuff. If we’re going to work this case to completion, you can call me Avery.”

This seemed to make Kellaway’s day, as she was unable to contain her smile. Avery hid her own grin, finding some comfort in the fact that she could at least make some people happy.

***

“I feel like I need to apologize to you,” Avery said. They were words that had never come to her very easily, not even when interacting with Rose. But given the course of her life over the last three months, she figured there were some things she needed to change about herself.

“For what?” Kellaway said.

“For sort of snapping at you earlier when you were asking those questions about Howard Randall.”

Kellaway considered it for a moment as she looked out of Avery’s passenger side window. The apology seemed to surprise her, taking her off guard for a moment. Finally, she said, “You don’t have anything to apologize for. I got overexcited. I mean…don’t get me wrong. I saw some pro-level shit in New York, but the whole Howard Randall connection and all of your cases had me geeking out.”

“I’m not geek-out worthy,” Avery said. “Trust me.”

“The stories I’ve heard about you say otherwise. It sort of blew me away that so many macho men were speaking so highly of you.”

“Macho?” Avery asked with a chuckle. “Like who?”

Kellaway shrugged. “Most of them. I get it, you know. They’re trying to put on a show, trying to seem tougher than they really are. I’m young and small-built. They’re going to rib me and give me a hard time.”

“Not too much of a hard time, I hope. Not a PR-reportable hard time.”

“Oh, no…nothing like that.”

“Most of the guys at the A1 are pussycats,” Avery said. “You just need to assert yourself. And so far, it doesn’t seem like that’s an issue for you.”

“It never has been,” Kellaway said. “I’m actually more concerned about what you think of me, if I’m being honest.”

“Don’t be.”

“Well…you got stuck with me on your first day back and I still don’t really even know the full details about why you left.”

Avery recognized this as a not-so-subtle way for Kellaway to ask about the last few months. Avery didn’t mind. Surprisingly, she welcomed it. It would be good to speak to someone other than a therapist about it—especially someone who knew very little about her personal life.

“I left because everything seemed like it came falling down all at once,” she said. “My ex-husband died, killed by a man I was trying to track down…all while my daughter was also being tormented. And then Ramirez died—and I don’t know how much you know about him but…”

“You guys were involved, right?” Kellaway asked.

“Yeah. It was more serious than I admitted to myself. I didn’t realize how much he meant to me until he was right there at the edge of death. He had a ring…was ready to get married.”

Kellaway nodded solemnly, perhaps feeling that she had opened a door she wasn’t ready to step through just yet. “Well,” she said quietly, “how is your daughter doing after all of it? At least you still have her.”

Avery tried to muster up a fake laugh but couldn’t manage it. “You’d think. But…no. Rose is more distant than ever. She blames me for her dad’s death. And she claims my career has always kept her in harm’s way. And the hell of it is that she might be right.”

It was strange to talk to Kellaway about Rose. After all, Kellaway might be five or six years older than Rose…it was far too close to speaking to Rose herself.

“So…if you don’t mind me asking, what made you come back?” Kellaway asked.

Avery knew the answer. It was an easy one but that made it somehow harder to answer. “Because it’s the only thing that makes sense to me,” she said. “I tried to tell myself that I didn’t miss it, but I did. It’s all I know. And really, I think Ramirez would be disappointed in me if I didn’t carry on.”

Somehow, the conversation had sped the strip along. Avery took the final turn as directed by Kellaway. It brought them to a nice apartment complex about twenty minutes away from the precinct. Kellaway paused a moment before opening the door. She looked back to Avery thoughtfully.

“You know…I know it’s not the same,” she told Avery, “but my folks divorced when I was twelve. Then my father died in a car accident when I was fifteen. I hated my mother. If I’m being honest, I still haven’t fully forgiven her. But I have reached out, especially now that she’s not well. I’ve talked to her and she’s not completely shut out anymore. So, the thing with your daughter…give it time. She’ll come around.”

“That’s the hope,” Avery said…without much hope at all.

Kellaway stepped out and closed the door. Avery watched her go, trying her best not to let the unexpected conversation pull her toward grief. She pulled away before it had a chance to sink its claws in, though her thoughts remained very close to Rose.

Give it time. She’ll come around.

It was a pleasant thought, a bit of encouragement wrapped up nice with a little bow on top. But Avery seriously doubted that it was true.