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“Andrea Adams?” Surprise filled Stevens’s eyes, quickly replaced by glee. “She had on this little pink dress and sneakers.” He gestured to his chest, then toward his feet. A wide grin spread across his face, a devilish look in his eyes. “And her panties had these cute little cherries on them. Fitting, you know?”
Malcolm punched Stevens’s face, and blood gushed from his nose.
“Hey! That was the truth!” Stevens said as he covered his face with his free hand.
“You’re lucky that’s all I’ve done so far, you sick fuck,” Malcolm seethed. “You’ll speak about Andrea Adams with respect, or I’ll rip your tongue out.”
I stared at him in shock. He’d never met my sister. He had no idea who she was, yet here he was defending her. I wasn’t sure about Stevens, but I believed that Malcolm would actually maim him. Was it wrong that some primal part of me wanted him to?
Malcolm glanced back at me, a vein throbbing in his forehead. He gave me a questioning look, as though asking if Stevens was correct. I nodded.
Malcolm turned back to him. “Who helped you with her kidnapping?”
His question surprised me. Everyone had said Stevens had worked alone. He’d never implicated anyone else in his confession.
Stevens looked surprised too, but I caught a brief glimpse of worry. “No one.”
A crack filled the room after Malcolm slapped his other cheek. “Wrong answer.”
“What the hell, man?” Stevens cried out. “Guard!”
“I told you, he’s not coming,” Malcolm snarled. “Who helped you?”
“I didn’t—”
Crack.
He asked several more times with the accompanying slaps, before Stevens finally cried out, “He didn’t help me kidnap her, but he let me know the police were coming. Is that what you want to know?”
I gasped. He’d had help?
“What’s his name?”
“Barry Sylvester. He was with the Jackson Creek police.”
The police department? I knew they were inept but corrupt? I hadn’t seen that one coming.
“Why would he help you?” Malcolm asked.
“I don’t know, man.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I don’t. Know.” Stevens spat out a wad of blood onto the table. “He called and told me the police were on the way and to get out. I asked him why he was helping, and he said to quit wasting time asking questions. With the police coming, it wasn’t like I had a lot of time to chat. They showed up less than five minutes later.”
Malcolm glanced back at me with a questioning look.
I shook my head. The name Sylvester sounded familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why.
Malcolm loomed over him, cupping his bright red cheek. “Good boy. Who else helped you?”
“No one,” Stevens said earnestly.
“Why don’t I believe you?” Malcolm’s voice rumbled.
Panic filled Stevens’s eyes. “There was no one else! I swear!”
Malcolm lowered his face close to Stevens, and when he tried to look away, Malcolm held both sides of his head. “Not so fucking tough now, are you?”
