Maximum Guilt (Hidden Guilt Book 2) (15 page)

“Grammy—”

“Don’t, Brittany. Grammy knew the risks. She’s a brave soldier. Don’t even go there.”

Brittany wanted to say more but she didn’t. And Stacy was right; Grammy knew the risks. After all, this whole rapist killer movement was her idea.

“If Porter goes back to Grammy’s house, he could find everything.”

“Brittany, don’t you fucking think I know that already? Jesus.”

“I was just saying. Don’t be such a bitch, Stacy.”

“Well, what were we supposed to do, hang around and get everything while he stood and watched?”

Brittany didn’t respond. It was no use.

“Listen, kiddo, I’m sorry. Yes, I know if Porter goes back, he could find the vault, and he would have all of our information at his fingertips—from our leadership structure to our members. I been thinking of ways to stop him from doing that.”

“How?”

“I’m thinking about having one of the girls go in and torch the place tonight. Probably the best thing we could do.”

“I like that idea, Stacy. Right now he’s probably at the hospital with his little girl. No way he makes it back by tonight.”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it past him. Either way, it’s going up in flames tonight.”

They drove on in silence until they reached Gulfport, Mississippi. Stacy exited the highway and stopped when she reached a wooded area on the outskirts of town.

"So what’s the plan, Stacy?”

“Plan is simple. We camp out here till nightfall. Tonight we’ll go into town and find some new clothes, doll ourselves up a bit, and see what kind of
fun
we can get into.”

“You have someone in mind for the burn job tonight? We could send her in to get the vault and stuff before she burns it.”

“Too risky. We have all the information safely stored, so there’s no need for the hard copies. And yes, I do have someone in mind. We have plans for everything. I’m going to send her a text code
eight
. She’ll know what needs to happen. Not to mention it’s an old vault that probably weighs three hundred pounds.”

Chapter 31

As I sat in the hospital waiting room, the minutes felt like hours. I was hungry and tired and worried sick that whatever voodoo bullshit Stacy and her sick grandmother had done to Karen would be permanent.
How would she ever get those images out of her head
? I wondered.

Finally, I saw a doctor heading my way.

“Detective Porter?”

I nodded. “Yes. Give me some good news, please. I could use some for a change.”

“Good news is my middle name, detective. And I do have some for you. Karen is great; actually, she’s better than great. I don’t think she’s going to have any lasting damage. She just needs to get home and get some rest. A little dehydrated, but other than that I don’t see anything wrong. I’m releasing her to you here in a bit. She needs plenty of rest and lots of liquids.”

I sat down and called Miranda back to give her the doctor’s report.  I also let her know I wouldn’t be making the trip back with Karen. I knew she wouldn’t be happy about it, but she also knew none of us were safe with Stacy and her goons still out there.

I heard my name being called from a nurse at the desk. Karen’s examination was complete and she was being discharged.

I hurried to my truck. I wanted desperately to get back to Stacy’s grandmothers to see what I could find. I’d been called twice already by the local PD, anxious to get me to come in and give a statement. I pulled up to the back entrance of the hospital just as the doors opened.

Karen gave me a huge hug. “Daddy!”

I pinched her cheek. “Hey, sugar. You ready to go home?”

“Yes! I’m ready to see Mommy!”

“Let’s get you home then.”

I got Karen loaded into my truck and headed for the airport. I was told a few detectives had offered to ride back with Karen, which I appreciated.

“Daddy, why did Miss Stacy take me away? She told me you wanted to leave us behind.”

“No! Don’t talk like that. That couldn’t be any further from the truth. Miss Stacy is sick, dear. Daddy is trying to find her so I can get her some help.”

A single tear rolled down her cheek. “So you still want to be my daddy?”

I leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “Of course. I love you, Karen.”

As I’d feared, Stacy had filled Karen’s head with lies. I was both angry and saddened for Karen in the same breath.

“Listen, I need to tell you something. Mommy will be waiting for you at the airport. I won’t be able to go back with you. I have to find Miss Stacy before she hurts someone else or hurts herself. Do you understand?”

Karen sat in silence for a moment, staring out of the window. I hated having to put her on the plane alone, but I couldn’t leave now.

Then she turned to me and smiled. “It’s okay, Daddy. I understand. But I really wish you could come home instead.”

I reached out my hand across the truck and held hers.

When we reached the tiny one strip airport, I parked my truck and helped Karen out. I stood there hugging her for a long time, fighting back tears—tears of joy, pain, anger, pity. I was all over the place.

“You okay, sir?” one of the detectives asked as he walked over to get Karen.

“I’m fine. Take care of my baby girl, or there’ll be hell to pay,” I said with a smile as I winked at Karen.

“You get some rest and get well. Take care of Mommy, and give her and Hil a kiss for me, okay?”

I bent down to give her a kiss and one last hug before I saw her off. I didn’t pray as often as I should, but I said a quick one, asking God to watch over the plane carrying my baby girl.

I stood there until the plane was out of sight. Before I made it back to my truck, my phone rang.

“Porter here.”

“David, it’s me, Wilcrest. De Luca told me about Karen. I am so happy for you, son. I called as quickly as I could.”

“Thanks, Cap. My family needed this. I don’t think we would have—”

“I know, son. So you and Karen headed back soon?”

I hesitated. I knew what Wilcrest’s response would be when he found out I wasn’t coming back, and I really wasn’t in the mood.

“I’m not coming back right now, and no, it’s not up for debate. I’m going to catch her.”

“David, she . . . this case isn’t going anywhere. You need to come home, spend a few weeks with your family. You guys need time to heal.”

“I know. And I will, just as soon as I bring Stacy and her sister in.”

“I know there’s no talking you off the ledge on this one, but you should listen to me on this, kid.”

“I’m actually headed back to Stacy’s grandmother’s house now. She was obviously involved on some level. Maybe I can find some good intel there. I’m kinda banking on it, actually. De Luca and Lafitte should be on a flight back to NOLA soon.”

“They’re headed to the airport now. You be careful out there and get home to your girls soon. You hear me?”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

“One more thing—I’m damn proud of your promotion. It’s well deserved. You and your team are going to do a lot of big things. I can feel it. I’ll be here to kick your ass if you don’t.”

After my little chat with the captain, I was kind of second-guessing my decision to stay in Louisiana. Maybe he was right. Maybe I was pushing it too far this time. I couldn’t be sure. Before I could give it more thought, my phone rang again.
Who could it possibly be this time
?

“Hello? Hello, this David Porter?”

I hadn’t spoken a word and had barely gotten the phone up to my ear.

“Hello!” the voice called again, this time a little louder.

“Porter here. Who the hell is this?”

“Porter, it’s Chief Davidson. I thought you were coming in. Where the hell are you?”

Damn it! This guy was persistent. I had planned on going to see him after I went back to Stacy’s grandmother’s, but it seemed it wasn’t going to play out that way.

“I just loaded my daughter on a plane back to Houston. I was actually headed back to the scene to look for clues. My next move was to come in and file my report.”

“No. I don’t know how you boys do things in Houston, but that’s not how it works here. Not on my watch. Come file your report immediately.”

I was stomping in their territory, but how about having a little professional courtesy? I wasn’t some masked vigilante running around in a bat suit.

I headed toward the NOLA police station to meet with their chief of police and give them a statement regarding what happened. Then I would head back to Stacy’s grandmother’s house and see what I could find. There’d probably already been a handful of cops in and out of the house. I just hoped they didn’t take anything valuable or trample any of the evidence before I arrived.

I pulled into the parking lot and hurried in. I knew this had to be done, but I had more pressing things to attend to. I wasn’t happy about being wrangled into doing it now.

“I’m here to see the chief. Detective David Porter HPD,” I said, flashing my badge at the officer at the desk.”

“Give me a few minutes, detective, and I’ll run him down.”

I leaned over the desk. “Thank you. I’m kind of in a rush, ma’am, if you don’t mind.”

“A few minutes? I don’t have a few minutes,” I said to myself as I took a seat. This department, at least on the surface, was a complete one-eighty from the hustle and bustle of Houston. I  thumbed through a few things on my phone and waited.  Finally after five and a half minutes the chief showed up.

He was taller than I’d expected probably six one or so and well built. His arms and chest bulged against his shirt. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and way too clean cut to be from here.

He stuck out his hand to greet me. “Detective Porter, the legend.”

He had a firm grip. “Chief Davidson, nice to meet you. I’m afraid you’ve got me confused with someone else. I’m no legend, just a cop trying to do the best he can.”

“Humble, too; I like that. Let’s cut right to the chase, Porter. You discharged your weapon today. I have a board assembled to hear your side of what happened. And I’ll need you to sign a statement, too.”

A board? What happened to just writing my statement and getting the hell out of here?

“Okay. I’m here to play along. Hoping to get through this quickly so I can get back to hunting down this maniac and her twisted sister.”

“Come with me. They’re waiting for you in the conference room. You’ve traveled quite a ways, detective.”

“Yes, I have. And I’m not done yet. I won’t stop until I find her.”

We made our way down a long hall, passing at least ten offices on our way to the conference room. When we walked in, five ranking officers were seated behind a massive, rectangular table. It almost felt like a goddamn interview or a promotion panel.

“This is Detective Porter,” Chief Davidson said. “He is going to provide a statement regarding today’s events. I’ll turn it over to him.”

“I’m not certain where you’d like me to start,” I said as I took a seat.

“Why don’t you start from the time you entered the house, detective?” Chief Davidson said.

I looked across the table. No friendly faces, to say the least.

“Okay. I can do that. I have a longtime friend on your force that put me in contact with Randy Landry. Randy helped me navigate the swamps. I left him behind after the house came into view. As I approached the house, I deduced from the plate numbers that both Stacy Demornay and Brittany Foy were somewhere in the house. The plates were registered in Texas.”

“Is that when you pulled your weapon?” one of the officers asked.

What the hell was this?
I thought. I ignored the question and kept going.

“I had spoken to the grandmother a few days earlier regarding the sisters. She told me she hadn’t spoken to them in years, but it felt practiced and seemed a little stretched. Rehearsed would be a better word.”

“Detective, you didn’t answer the question,” the officer said.

“Am I on trial here? I thought I was here to give a statement. I’m trying to do that. It’ll go a lot faster if I can just tell you what happened. I didn’t know this was a Q and A session.”

“Detective, my team is just trying to get a feel for the events that led up to your weapon being discharged,” the chief said.

“I understand, sir. Allow me to offer your team a little background information that they are clearly unaware of. Stacy Demornay is a bonafide killer. She’s the real deal. She killed three children back in Houston just to get my attention. She kidnapped my wife and held her captive for a year. She also kidnapped a detective from my station. She has killed several men over the last few days, and her sister as done the same. I’m not hunting a goddamn soccer mom here. So, yes, as soon as I had reason to believe I’d located the killer I was hunting—who, mind you, also had my daughter—I drew my weapon.”