When You See Me (Detective D.D. Warren #11)(105)

“Aunt Franny,” she provided. “But my son figured it out, being such a smart boy. Not to mention he doesn’t look anything like that frail, haunted woman in the house. One day he wanted the truth. Bill and I gave it to him. Of course he was grateful to realize I was his mother, not the crazy woman locked in the rear bedroom.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure there was only one crazy woman in that house.”

“You don’t know anything,” Franny replied flatly.

“I know your son’s a monster,” D.D. countered. “Bonita drew him as pure evil. That’s the son you denied, gave away, then tried to reclaim. And now you excuse his behavior even as it grows worse? He killed those girls, didn’t he? Then Bill disposed of the bodies.”

“Martha needed a kidney. Bill and I were talking about it one night when Clayton was home. He said he could help.”

“He kidnapped girls to be human organ donors!”

“He ran a domestic services business in New Mexico. Lots of hired girls. It wasn’t too hard to see if one of them had the right blood type.”

“He was a pimp!” D.D. shouted. “And twenty to one, Bonita’s mother was one of his first victims.”

“He saved Martha’s life!”

“Except it didn’t stop there. He had a thing for girls. He liked to acquire them, he liked to torture them. Living in a small town, that might stand out. But if he imported them, shared them with others . . . Dear God, your son turned his violent obsession into a business, and you helped him!”

“This community needs him! Our town was dying. Businesses failing, good people on the verge of losing their homes. Clayton is smart. He saw the opportunity. He started supplying a cheaper workforce, which people certainly appreciated. Then there was a guest here, a guest there, who wanted extra services. Martha and Howard—well, they couldn’t very well say no, could they? And with the increase in offerings came more and more people arriving into the community, willing to spend money.”

“Such as Jacob Ness?”

“It was my idea to have Dorothea build the website, with its portal to the dark web, where even more important business could be done.

“Once word got out, well . . . The past ten years have been a boon for this community. Everyone has benefited. Everyone!”

“How many bodies are we going to find in the woods, Franny? How many!”

“We were doing just fine—”

“With Bill digging graves and you managing things in the sheriff’s department so no one ever connected the dots on all the girls who appeared and disappeared? You’re going to jail, Franny. And your son, as well as Bill, Dorothea, and every single person in this town if that’s what it takes. You’re all going down.”

The woman snorted. “Now who’s crazy? The sheriff and that young man aren’t coming back. Those tunnels go on forever. You need a guide. Not to mention, Bill is already closing in from the other side. I shut this secret door, and no one will be the wiser.”

“I will. And you’re in no position to stop me.”

Franny smiled. Again, it wasn’t a nice look on her face. “Clayton will take care of you. Right after he’s done with the girl.”

“Your son is here?”

“Way ahead of you.”

“That’s why Bonita ran.”

“She doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Franny,” D.D. said coolly. “You severely injured my right arm. It means you attacked a police officer. It means I can respond with deadly force.”

“With the table between us, I’m hardly a threat to you now.”

“And where are the witnesses to testify to that?”

The woman paused. She still held the poker, but for the first time appeared uncertain. Her gaze once more flicked to the open doorway. Looking for her son, waiting for her son. Which was why she’d been willing to talk as much as D.D.

But D.D. couldn’t afford to stall any longer. Not with this Clayton monster chasing Bonita.

D.D. raised her sidearm with her left hand. All those years of practice . . . She had nothing to doubt. Nothing to fear.

Her left finger on the trigger. Slight squeeze. She fired.

The bullet smacked Franny’s right shoulder. The poker clattered to the floor as the woman staggered back, clutching at her injury, surprise written all over her face.

“I would have aimed for your heart,” D.D. informed her, “if I thought you had one.”

The older woman collapsed to the floor, still staring at D.D. in shock.

“You won’t immediately die from that wound. Then again, without prompt medical treatment, plenty of things could go wrong. I suggest you start atoning for your sins sooner versus later.”

D.D. took a second to check out her right arm again, rotating it slowly, flexing her fingers. It hurt like a son of a bitch, but didn’t seem to be broken. Bone bruise maybe. Hardly mattered. She could handle the pain. She would do whatever necessary to keep her promise to Bonita. Now, she leaned over the table till she could look Franny in the eye. Already the woman’s brow was beaded with sweat, her body starting to tremble as shock set in.

“Hey, Franny,” D.D. said in her nicest voice. “I’m going to go find your son. And then, I’m going to kill him.”