Page 55 of Girl Long Gone

Connor bounced his knee up and down as he sat trapped in the damn passenger’s seat of Mark’s car as they barreled toward Hoboken. Mark had sent officers from the local precinct to knock on Simon’s door, but no one had answered. A warrant was coming through to search the apartment, and Connor wanted to be there the second they were given clearance to enter.

“Turn left at the light,” Connor said into the tense silence. “Detective Anderson called and had no recollection of Gabriel ever being connected to Lynette Nelson. No way that would have gone uncovered if Simon told his parents and the police what he told me. I wonder how much shit this guy fed me.”

“Seems like Simon’s been lying to you the whole time,” Mark said.

He took the corner without slowing down, and Connor tipped to the side of the seat, keeping a firm grasp on the door handle. He glanced at the clock on the dash. Dinnertime had come and gone. He shifted his gaze to the mostly bare sidewalks. A few homeless people loitered in doorways, and pedestrians hurried down the street.

One man’s brisk pace and large backpack caught his attention. The man jogged along the sidewalk, his head down and shoulders bent forward from the weight of his pack. Red hair spiked out from an oval face.

“Holy shit. Stop the car,” Connor shouted. “That’s Simon.”

Mark slammed on the brakes, and he jumped out. He took off at a dead sprint toward Simon. Simon twisted to face him, and his eyes widened. He ran, his backpack bouncing, slowing him down. He slipped the pack off his shoulders and shot forward.

Connor lengthened his stride. Only guilty people ran.

Simon dodged between people and weaved into the busy street, crossing to the other side like his life depended on it. Connor followed, closing in with every step. Beads of sweat slid down his face, and his lungs burned.

He pushed his muscles harder, faster, until he reached out and grabbed hold of the back of Simon’s jacket. He closed his fist around the fleece and yanked him backward, the momentum causing Simon to slip forward and stumble onto his ass. Connor kept his grip on the back of his jacket, pulled him back to his feet, then spun him around.

Connor pinned him to the building beside them, fisting the collar of his shirt and yanking Simon to his toes. “Where’s Gabriel?”

Simon clawed at Connor’s hand, but his bony fingers were useless against Connor’s viselike grip. “Why do you keep asking me that? What the hell’s your problem? Just leave me alone.”

Connor leaned in closer, allowing venom to coat his words as he continued. “Don’t lie to me. I know you never told anyone Gabriel dated Lynette. Was anything you told me true? What about the fucking birdhouses? Was everything a story to make me feel sorry for you?” He pushed harder against the brick wall, his fist pressing against the weasel’s windpipe.

Mark put a heavy hand on Connor’s shoulder. “He can’t answer any questions if you suffocate him, and I don’t need another murder on my caseload.”

Simon locked his nervous gaze on Mark. “Please, help me. This guy’s been harassing me. He’s crazy.”

Mark chuckled. “Nice try. You didn’t answer his question.”

Connor relaxed his arm enough to lower Simon to his feet but kept him firmly rooted in his spot.

Simon shifted his dilated pupils from Mark to Connor and back again. “I...I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“What about your cousin? You lied about telling your parents she dated Gabriel. You didn’t tell the police. Don’t say you did. I had an informative chat with the detective who’d been in charge of Lynette’s case. He’d never heard the name Gabriel Wilson.”

All the air seemed to leave Simon’s body. “I...you don’t...it’s not what you think.” Simon sighed, defeat etching lines in the corners of his eyes.

“I suggest you explain it to us,” Mark said, his voice hard and unrelenting.

Tears glimmered in the shafts of light beating down from the streetlamp. “It was my fault Lynette died.”

Shock loosened Connor’s grip. A million scenarios had played in his mind, but Simon being responsible for his cousin’s disappearance wasn’t one of them. “What happened?”

Simon bent at the waist and shook his head. “It was an accident. I never meant to hurt her. She was my best friend.” He glanced at Connor. “I didn’t lie about that. She was like the sister I never had.”

A beat of silence passed, and Connor wanted to jump out of his skin. “What did you do?” He spoke each word through clenched teeth.

“I went to see her. I’d found a picture of her and Gabriel together, and I didn’t like it. He might have been my friend, but I didn’t trust him with her. I’d seen his temper—heard how he talked about other girls. We were at the top of the stairs. I tried to get her to talk to me, if she’d just listen to what I had to tell her. I grabbed her purse to keep her there, but she pulled away and lost her footing...”

Connor ran a hand over his head. If Simon was telling the truth, Lynette’s death was an accident. “Why lie? Why not tell the police what happened?”

“Gabriel walked in at some point during our argument. He screamed, told me I’d killed her. He said he’d seen the whole thing, and I’d pushed her down the stairs. I denied it, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He said he loved her, and I had to pay.”

“What happened to Lynette?” Mark voiced the question in Connor’s mind.

Simon bit his bottom lip. “Gabriel and I took her somewhere. He said he didn’t want anyone else to take her away like I had. He needed to keep her safe. From that moment on, I’ve done whatever he’s asked me to do.”