CHAPTER 12 Richard Finally Spoke
"I don't want to see him."
The words left my mouth before I had time to think.
Detective Brooks didn't argue.
She simply nodded.
"I understand."
"No," I said, staring at the floor. "I don't think you do."
"For nineteen years, every nightmare I've ever had has had his face in it."
"He filmed me."
"He followed me."
"He watched me sleep."
"And now..."
"Now he suddenly wants to talk?"
Brooks waited until the room fell silent.
"Not exactly."
"He wants to confess."
The interview room was deliberately plain.
Gray walls.
Metal table.
Two chairs.
A security camera in the corner.
Richard Hale sat alone.
For the first time since I'd known his name...
He looked old.
Not dangerous.
Not calculating.
Just...
Tired.
His wrists rested on the table.
He wasn't handcuffed.
He hadn't been arrested.
Not yet.
When I stepped inside, he didn't look at me immediately.
Instead, he stared at the tabletop.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
The apology landed with a dull thud.
Too late.
Much too late.
I remained standing.
"You don't get to start there."
He nodded.
"I know."
Several seconds passed before either of us spoke again.
Finally, I asked the only question that mattered.
"Why?"
Richard closed his eyes.
"For money?"
"No."
"For loyalty?"
"No."
"For Deborah?"
His shoulders sagged.
"For fear."
Detective Brooks switched on the recorder.
Richard took a deep breath.
"My daughter..."
"...didn't die in an accident."
The room became perfectly still.
"I already know her bedroom was locked."
He looked at me in surprise.
"You reopened the case."
Brooks nodded.
"We did."
Richard swallowed hard.
"I locked it."
Every muscle in my body froze.
"I locked the door."
"But I didn't know..."
His voice cracked.
"I didn't know the wiring was faulty."
"I thought..."
He stopped speaking.
"What did you think?" Brooks asked quietly.
Richard covered his face.
"I thought she needed a few minutes alone."
The confession hung in the air.
"I was angry."
"We argued."
"I locked her in her room."
"Then I left."
"When I came back..."
His breathing became uneven.
"The house was on fire."
No one interrupted.
No one judged.
We simply listened.
"I tried to break the door."
"I couldn't."
"I heard her screaming."
He shut his eyes tightly.
"I hear it every night."
Several moments passed before Brooks asked,
"How did Deborah Monroe become involved?"
Richard laughed bitterly.
"Because she knew."
"What do you mean?"
"She was at the hospital."
"The night my daughter died."
"I don't even remember why."
"Church charity."
"School fundraiser."
"I don't know."
"But she overheard me."
Richard looked directly at me for the first time.
"I told someone..."
"...that I'd locked the bedroom."
"I thought I was confessing."
"I thought they'd tell the police."
Instead...
The next day Deborah visited him.
Alone.
"She said she could help."
"Help?"
Richard nodded.
"She said nobody needed to know."
"She'd heard enough to understand what happened."
"What did she want in return?"
His answer came almost instantly.
"Loyalty."
At first, the requests seemed harmless.
Fix a fence.
Move furniture.
Volunteer at church.
Then...
She asked him to film "family counseling sessions."
She claimed they would help psychiatrists understand my behavior.
"I believed her."
"For a while."
"When did you realize the truth?" I asked.
"The first tape."
"I watched it afterward."
"I saw..."
He couldn't finish.
"You."
"A little girl."
"Trying to explain yourself."
"And Deborah smiling every time you cried."
He buried his face in his hands.
"I should have gone to the police."
"But she reminded me..."
"...what would happen if I did."
"She'd expose your confession."
Richard nodded.
"She said I'd lose everything."
"I believed her."
"You already had," I whispered.
His eyes filled with tears.
"I know."
Over the years, Deborah's demands grew.
Follow Caitlyn.
Report who she speaks to.
Recover documents.
Accept a maintenance job at the university.
Watch her.
Never touch her.
Never hurt her.
Just...
Watch.
"Why?" Daniel asked.
Richard looked genuinely confused.
"I asked Deborah that once."
"What did she say?"
He stared at the recorder.
"She said..."
"A prisoner who thinks she's free is easier to break than one still inside the cage."
The room fell silent again.
That sentence.
It explained everything.
The cameras.
The notes.
The teddy bear.
The constant reminders that escape was impossible.
She never wanted me dead.
She wanted me hopeless.
"So why disappear?" Brooks asked.
Richard answered without hesitation.
"Because I stopped."
"You left the note."
"You warned Caitlyn."
"I did."
"What changed?"
He reached into his shirt pocket.
Brooks immediately stiffened.
Richard slowly removed...
A folded photograph.
It was old.
Creased.
Worn at the edges.
He slid it across the table.
It showed his daughter.
Standing beside...
Me.
I stared at it.
"I don't remember this."
"You wouldn't."
"You were four."
"Our families attended the same church picnic."
I looked closer.
The little girl was smiling.
Holding my hand.
"My daughter told me..."
Richard whispered,
"...that you cried whenever adults shouted."
"She used to sit beside you."
"She said you reminded her of a scared kitten."
His voice broke.
"I spent years hurting the little girl who once held my daughter's hand."
No one spoke for nearly a minute.
Then Brooks asked the question that had haunted the investigation from the beginning.
"Richard."
"Is Deborah Monroe acting alone?"
He looked up.
For the first time since entering the room...
Real fear crossed his face.
"No."
The single word echoed through the room.
"There was always someone else."
"Who?"
Richard's lips trembled.
"I never learned his real name."
"He only introduced himself as..."
The Shepherd.
"He wasn't family."
"He wasn't church."
"He wasn't police."
"But every time Deborah wanted something impossible..."
"...The Shepherd made it happen."
Richard leaned closer, his voice barely audible.
"And if he knows I've talked..."
"He'll come for all of us."
Before anyone could ask another question, alarms suddenly blared throughout the police building.
A uniformed officer burst through the interview room door, pale and out of breath.
"Detective Brooks!"
"The evidence vault..."
May you like
"It's on fire."
End of Chapter 12
