Knox
“I am both worse and better than you thought.”
―Sylvia Plath
KNOX GIVES THE officers on the scene all the information he has about the driver of the Range Rover, the name he believes he goes by and the photo of the license plate.
Randall Macintosh, a uniformed officer he’s known since joining the force, takes down everything Knox tells him. “What was your interest in Madison Willard?” he asks, his head swinging from Knox to Emory Benson.
Knox glances at Emory and then says, “I’m doing some private work for Dr. Benson. Her sister and her sister’s best friend recently disappeared from the Spring Jam Festival. In reviewing the festival’s security footage, I saw a man who appeared to be following them. I believe he might have bought the hat he was wearing at the store where Madison worked. We went there earlier tonight to ask her some questions. She indicated she didn’t know who he was, but I had a feeling she wasn’t telling us everything, so we waited for her to get off work. The suspect picked her up outside the store, and we followed them to her apartment. They had barely gotten inside the building before he was coming back out again, and my phone rang. She could hardly talk, but she was asking for help.”
“You think she told him about your questions, and that’s why he shot her?” Macintosh asks.
“I don’t know what else to think.”
The officer’s phone rings. He answers, listens intently, before clicking off, and then says, “The plate on the Range Rover was stolen. Belongs to a woman in Maryland who reported it a couple of weeks ago.”
“What about the vehicle?” Knox asks.
“Still working on that. We’ve got an APB out for the Range Rover. Chief Parker would like the two of you to come to the station and answer a few more questions.”
Knox blows out a short breath, and says the only thing there is to say, “We’ll head over now.”
~
THEY’RE ON THE Beltway driving toward downtown before either of them speaks.
Strangely, they both start to say something at the same time.
“I should have . . .”
“How could we . . .”
They glance at each other, and Knox can see the horror of what they witnessed in her eyes. “I want to believe we could have prevented that,” he says, his gaze now on the highway before them.
“But how?” she asks quietly. “Why did she lie to us?”
“She didn’t think he could be capable of what we’d told her.”
“But he is. And now he’s back out there. What if he’s already killed my sister and Grace?” She barely manages to choke out the last words, before her head is in her hands, and he can hear her quiet crying.
Without giving himself time to correct the impulse, he reaches out and puts a hand on her arm. “You can’t think that. We don’t have any reason to believe it at this point. The only way to get through this is to take each piece of information we have and follow it through to the best of our ability. Trusting only what’s immediately in front of you is how you get to the next critical clue. Think of what we knew yesterday and what we know now. We have somewhere to go.”
She presses her lips together, and he senses her struggling to bring her emotions under control. She nods once, her right elbow on the Jeep door, her hand running through her hair.
When they reach the station, Knox pulls into the parking spot it is his habit to park in. He’s just getting ready to suggest she wait there for him when a text dings on his phone. It’s the captain.
Bring the Benson girl in with you.
He doesn’t bother texting her back, because an order is an order.
He looks at Emory and says, “The captain wants to speak with you too.”
“I don’t have a problem with that.” She opens her door and slides out, then waits for him to walk around.
He leads the way inside the building, holding the door for her and then making his way to the captain’s office. The door is closed. He raps once; opens it at her terse, “Come in.”
He steps aside and waves Emory through before him.
“You must be Emory Benson,” Chief Parker stands from the chair behind her desk, sticks out her hand.
“Yes,” Emory says, shaking hands with her and keeping her gaze locked with the captain’s. Knox takes note of the fact that she isn’t intimidated.
Chief Parker looks at Knox, any residue of pleasantness leaving her expression. “You’re on leave,” she says matter-of-factly.
“Yes,” he agrees.
“Would you like to tell me how you ended up in the middle of an investigation you were relieved from?”
“I hired him as a private detective,” Emory answers before he can.
The captain’s gaze swings to her. “I think Detective Helmer can answer that question.”
“I didn’t expect what happened tonight to happen, Captain,” he says.
“I should hope not. But you have defied an order in continuing to work on this case.”
“Chief Parker,” Emory says, her voice suddenly a hard line of steel. “Has anyone you loved ever gone missing?”
The captain meets her questioning gaze, and it is clear she’s surprised by her boldness. “No.”
“But you have no doubt witnessed many families struggling with this reality?”
“I have,” she says carefully.
“Then you must have some idea how unbearable it is to sit and wait for a phone call that might give you the smallest piece of information about the person you love? For three days, I have heard nothing. My seventeen-year-old sister, whom I have raised since she was eight years old, vanished. And while I know this police department will do everything within its power to find her, I also know it might not be enough. I can’t stand by and do nothing. Detective Helmer agreed to help me because I all but begged him to. If anyone is going to get reprimanded for this, it should be me.”
“You’re not an officer of this department, Miss Benson.”
“It’s Dr. Benson,” Emory says. “And no, I’m not. But tonight is the first lead I’ve been made aware of. The first piece of hope I have that my baby sister might be found. Only, I don’t even know if I have that because the man who killed Madison Willard is a monster. And how do I know that he hasn’t already killed Mia and Grace?”
Emory swallows once, as if trying to push back the emotion welling up inside her. “Can you find him, Captain?”
“We’ll do our best,” she says. “I can assure you of that.”
“I believe you,” Emory says. “But what if that’s not enough? My sister is the only family I have left. I will never be able to live with myself if I don’t do anything and everything I possibly can to help find her.”
The captain glances from Emory to Knox. He holds her gaze, aware that, like his superiors in the Special Forces, to look away is to show weakness and lose her respect.
When she finally speaks, it is on the exhalation of a long sigh. “Detective Helmer, you will not in any way interfere with the ongoing investigation of this department. And if you develop the smallest of leads, you will notify Detective Carmichael, who is now the lead on this case. Am I understood?”
“Perfectly,” Knox says, keeping his expression neutral.
“That will be all then. Maybe we could go home and try to get some sleep now.”
“Goodnight, Captain,” he says, opening the office door.
They’re in the hallway when the captain calls out, “I’m really sorry about your sister and her friend, Dr. Benson. It is my fervent hope that they’ll be found.”