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SIX MONTHS LATER: MAGGIE KENNEDY-O’KEEFE
Tuesday, January 5, 2021
“Maggie, you’ll want to see this.” I look up from my desk to see Chief Digby standing there holding a manila envelope in his hand. Digby doesn’t need to tell me what the envelope holds. I know what’s inside: the forensic testing results on the evidence from Eve’s case. I’ve been waiting six months for this to show up on my doorstep.
As he hands me the envelope, I examine Digby’s face for any clue as to what the results show but his expression gives nothing away.
This afternoon Shaun and I are supposed to take Eleanora Eve, Ellie for short, for her six-month checkup over in Willow Creek. She’s doing great despite her eventful entry into the world. After the appointment we’re going to go to my dad’s house for a dinner to celebrate another big art sale for Colin. I hope I get there.
I open the envelope and pull out the packet of papers and flip to the final page. One name jumps out at me. I look up at Digby who is grinning widely. “The boot was a gold mine. The DNA from the boot didn’t match anyone in the system but then the lab compared it to profiles on a genealogy site where his son had submitted DNA. Once we had that partial profile match we were able to get a sample of his DNA from a coffee cup he threw away. It’s a perfect match. They found his blood on the laces and inside of the boot. The lab even found more of his DNA from the initial evidence submitted. We got him.”
I stare down at the name, my mind racing. Cam Harper. “Maggie, you okay?” Digby asks. “We did it. We solved Eve’s case. Do you want to do the honors and call Charlotte Knox and let her know we caught her daughter’s killer?”
“No,” I say. “I think you should.”
Digby nods with understanding and hands me the signed warrant for Cam’s arrest. “Take Francis with you,” he says. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” I say numbly as he leaves. I set the document aside and open my bottom desk drawer. I reach inside and pull out another envelope, this one holding a syringe, a piece of glass and a cigarette butt. I toss them into my purse to throw away. I never used them. When I sat on that gravel road last summer trying to decide whether or not I would doctor the evidence, trying to decide who I would frame—Nick, Cam or Nola—I knew that the lies had to end.
I was fully prepared to take the blame I deserved for killing Eve. I even considered turning myself in but then Nola ambushed me in the caves and I realized that I wanted whatever time I could get with my baby. I decided to let the forensic testing speak for itself. And now it had. Cam Harper had murdered Eve. He must have followed us to the caves and attacked her after both Nola and I had left.
Eve was still alive when I left her there. I didn’t kill my best friend. Relief floods my body but is quickly replaced with a heavy sadness. What would have happened if Cam had caught both of us there? Would we both be dead? Or would we both still be alive?
I think of Nola and the hatred she has harbored for me all these years. How it ate away at her from the inside out, how it made her crazy from grief. In the days after our encounter at the caves, the Grotto PD did a thorough search of Nola’s house and the bones I believed to be human were just that, except she bought them legally off some site called The Bone Garden. As for the hatbox and the tackle box in Nola’s house, they also held bones and teeth but from a variety of different animals. Absolutely twisted and creepy but Nola wasn’t the mass murderer I believed her to be. No connection could be made between Nola and the arsons. The fires just stopped. As for the posting on Wrecked Nest, I never found out who did that either.
Believe it or not, I went to bat for Nola. She did save Ellie—got her breathing after a full minute without drawing a breath. I owe her Ellie’s life. I got her charges reduced to simple assault and instead of sitting in jail she was sent to a mental health institute in Cherokee for a month. Once she was stabilized, I went to go see Nola. We talked for the better part of two hours.
I apologized for what I did to Eve and told her that I forgave her for what she did to me. I thanked her for saving Ellie. I also told Nola that I would do everything possible to make Nick Brady pay for what he did to her. Though the statute of limitations has expired on her complaint, I’ve kept my promise. Guys like Nick don’t change their ways and with a little digging I found out that he had been knocking his new girlfriend around and I had the pleasure of arresting him. The publicity around Nick’s bad behavior was not good for Grotto Gifts and it closed down about a month ago.
Nola still hates me but not in a homicidal way. Part of Nola’s sentence is a restraining order that says she must stay away from me and my family. Nola and her mother ended up selling the house and moving to the far end of the county. I keep close tabs on Nola and always will.
“Ready to go?” Francis is at my door, enthusiasm for a big arrest radiating from him.
I push back from my desk and grab my coat. “You drive,” I say.
“Park in front of my dad’s house,” I tell Francis as he pulls onto the street. I called Cam Harper’s law firm and was told by his administrative assistant that he wasn’t in for the day. Arresting him in the house where he victimized me will be quite satisfying.
“Wait here for a sec,” I tell Francis as I step from the car.
The January sky is forlorn and gray. The day is cold and blustery, not unlike the day Eve was murdered but I don’t feel the chill. I trot up my dad’s front steps and push open the front door.
“Hey, Dad,” I say. He’s sitting in his favorite chair watching a morning talk show.
“Maggie,” he says with surprise. “Do we have plans today?” He’s always surprised to see me. I’m just grateful he remembers my name today. Some days he doesn’t.
Leanne steps out from the kitchen to say hello and then goes back to whatever she was doing.
I sit on the ottoman in front of my dad’s chair and reach for his hands. They are warm and completely envelope mine. “Dad,” I say, my voice already shaking with emotion. “I know what you did for me.” His eyes are clear, alert. He knows exactly what I’m talking about. “I know you thought I was the one who killed Eve. I thought so too. I know you found Eve’s scarf and took care of it.”
“Maggie,” he says with alarm, looking around in case someone can hear.
“No, it’s okay, Dad.” I squeeze his fingers. “I wanted you to know that I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill Eve. I promise you. It was Cam Harper. We are going over to arrest him now.”
“Cam Harper?” he says in disbelief and gets to his feet. “Why? How?”
I stand too and wrap my arms around his neck and lay my head on his shoulder just like I did during our dad-daughter dance at my wedding. “I promise I’ll tell you, but right now, I just need you to know that I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill Eve.” I know that in a matter of minutes what I’ve told him will drift away like dandelion fluff. I say it again over and over again, I didn’t kill Eve, hoping that my words will imprint themselves on his soul so that somehow he’ll know. That he’ll never doubt me again.
We stand like this for a long time until my dad pulls away and looks down at me. “Do we have plans today?” he asks.
