The Night Shift, page 24
She’s trying to gasp for air but he’s squeezing too tight. She’s losing consciousness. But at once his body jerks, he releases his hold, and he crumples to the floor. Behind him, Ella still clutches the spear that is jutting from Steadman’s back until she too hits the floor.
The next images come in waves, as if under a strobe light.
The room filling with figures.
Stan.
Hal.
Arpeggio.
A medic with a concerned look on her face.
Keller sees the darkened ceiling … she’s being carried away on a stretcher. She shifts painfully to look around her.
She passes Atticus, who isn’t moving … Chris, who isn’t moving … Ella, who isn’t moving.
And then everything goes dark.
EPILOGUE
ONE YEAR LATER
Keller waves to Bob, who’s pushing a double stroller that nearly takes up the entire sidewalk. He has an overstuffed diaper bag slung over his shoulder. She’s told him he doesn’t need to do this, but he brings the twins for lunch near her office every Wednesday. It’s a production, getting them seated at the diner, but he insists.
After the nightmare of folding the stroller, wiping down the table, setting up the baby seats, and having toys at the ready before one of them starts up, they finally look at their menus.
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” she says.
“I get an afternoon away from the moms at the park, and I get to see my favorite G-woman, why would I not?” He’s wearing a concert T-shirt and for a moment she’s taken back to their first date. Him fawning over her job, never once talking about himself, a rarity in the dating scene. He left his job shortly after the kids were born. When Keller was in the hospital that terrible night—when things were touch and go for both her and the twins—he told her he’d made a deal with God. If they got through this, all of them, then he would dedicate every second of his life to taking care of his family. He’s a tad dramatic, her husband.
“I have news,” Keller says.
He looks at her, waiting.
“Stan is transferring to the New York City field office. He’ll still be a SAC, but they’re grooming him to be the A-DIC.”
“Who came up with all these acronyms? They sound like jobs on a porn set.”
Keller smiles despite herself. “He wants me to come with him.”
Bob thinks about this. “What do you want to do?”
“I wanted to talk with you.”
“I’m a moron. Why would you want to do that?”
She smiles again, swats him with her menu. “I’m serious. It will mean more hours. A longer commute. You’ll have to take on more with the kids.” She gazes lovingly at the twins, who each have a fistful of Cheerios from the container Bob put in front of them.
“You didn’t answer my question. What do you want to do?”
“Stan said I could focus on financial crimes. The cases are super-interesting. It’s the best white-collar crime team at the Bureau.”
“No psycho high school principals?”
She shakes her head in exasperation. “That reminds me: Jesse Duvall was on Good Morning America this morning. She’s getting a lot of attention for that piece she wrote in the New Yorker about the case. She mentions me in the segment.”
Bob’s eyes light up. He’s already on his phone, pulling up the clip. “It’s a long interview, I’ll watch the whole thing later, but where does she mention you?”
“Near the end.”
Bob fiddles with the device, fast-forwarding, then holds the phone so they both can see the screen. The twins are watching them, seemingly fascinated.
Jesse Duvall sits on a veranda, a handsome estate in the background. She looks like a movie star.
The host says, “So the killer, he says something extraordinarily creepy to you during the attack, the same words he said fifteen years prior to the lone survivor of the Blockbuster killings?”
“That’s right.”
“Why do you think he did that? Or let you survive, for that matter?”
“I think he wanted to divert attention from himself. At the time, everyone thought Vince Whitaker was the Blockbuster killer, so he thought they might think Vince killed the employees of the ice cream store. But his backup plan, which was what ended up carrying the day, was that the authorities would believe that I committed the crime.”
“Why would he think that?”
“Because he knew I was researching the Blockbuster case. He didn’t know why, but I’d met with him when I was having a problem with some girls at school. We talked about my interest in journalism. I was like, ‘You were a teacher and knew all these kids from Blockbuster, tell me about them.’”
*
Bob pauses the clip. “Does she get into the thing about her teacher?”
“Briefly,” Keller says, “she just mentions that after her New Yorker story other girls came forward and creepy Chad Parke was finally charged and pled guilty.”
Bob nods, clicks PLAY.
*
The host asks, “Why do you think he killed so many? And there was a big gap in time here, what do you think triggered him to do it again?”
Jesse seems to ponder this. “I think he killed my mother because he was obsessed with her. If he couldn’t have her, no one could. I think he killed her friends at the store because they knew about their relationship and threatened to tell. I think the same thing happened with the Sawyer sisters. Hannah wanted out of the relationship and told her older sister when he was stalking her. Madison was going to tell their mom. He must’ve been watching the ice cream store and saw me go in there and decided to take the opportunity. As for the time between the crimes, we’ll never know.”
The host says, “Do you think he knew you were his daughter?”
“I don’t think so. But I don’t think it would’ve changed anything if he did.”
“All these years, he was a monster in plain sight.”
“I struggled with that a lot. Shouldn’t I have put the pieces together sooner? Could I have prevented what happened at the ice cream store? Then a wise FBI agent said something to me I’ll never forget.”
The host waits, an eager expression on her face.
“She said there’s a saying, ‘The sheep spends its life worried about the wolf, only to be eaten by the farmer.’”
*
Bob blurts, “Yeah!”
The diner goes quiet for a beat, then the murmur returns. Keller shakes her head.
Looking at the twins, she says, “I’m so happy they’re too young to be embarrassed of us yet.”
“Embarrassed? Are you crazy, their mama’s the wisest new agent at the Manhattan field office.”
Keller stares at him a long moment.
“By the way,” Bob says, “did Jesse make a bunch of money from the article or something? That’s a pretty impressive mansion she’s at.”
“That’s the crazy part. Ella Monroe’s mother took her in. I met that woman and, let me tell you, she’s a tough one. It could be her chance to do what she should’ve done with her own daughter, a second chance to get things right.”
Keller looks at her husband again. “You’re sure about New York?”
“As sure as I am that you’re a badass.”
“I told you not to call me that.” But she can’t hold back another smile. She both hates and loves when he calls her Agent Badass.
Hates it because it reminds her of the case that nearly killed her and the twins; loves it because it’s Bob’s way of showing that—despite his vow, his fears—he won’t let their family be defined by the trauma. She also loves it because it reminds her of how lucky they are. That she and Bob have each other. That they’re blessed with the love of their lives, Michael Atticus Keller and Heather Attica Keller.
YOUTUBE EXCERPT
The Night Shift Travel Vlog
(10K views)
“Delivering Supplies via Amazon (River)”
EXT. DAYTIME—MAMUSA PORT
A blue ferryboat is docked on a mud bank. Three wooden planks jut out of the boat to land.
TRAVELER 1 (O.S.)
We boarded our ferry on the port outside of Iquitos. They let us store our scooter and supplies on the first deck, which had crates of fish on ice and live chickens. It’s gonna be an adventurous twenty-four hours for sure.
The camera turns off, then on. The camera’s weak light captures a crowded top deck lined with hammocks filled with other travelers. Someone is snoring loudly.
TRAVELER 1 (O.S.)
A travel tip if you’re going to venture on the Amazon River via ferry: bring earplugs. And bring some snacks. The meal service was canceled without any explanation tonight.
The camera flips off and on again. It’s morning. The scene is of the river: coffee-colored water merging into a nearly black section.
TRAVELER 1 (O.S.)
We’re nearly at our port. Someone said we know that because the water changed color. They served some type of chicken dish for breakfast—we just hope it wasn’t one of the fellas on the lower deck. We’ve drifted by a few villages and seen some amazing wildlife—parrots and a bunch of different types of birds. Monkeys. We even spotted a pink river dolphin. No piranhas like in the movies, though.
The camera turns black, then on again. A motor scooter drives precariously over a wooden plank to land. The traveler maneuvers up an embankment and gets off the bike.
The camera scans a narrow path, then lands on the motor scooter, which is overloaded with oversized bags of supplies.
TRAVELER 1 (O.S.)
It’s supposed to be three kilometers that way to the orphanage. These kids have had a rough time, so we’ve brought some medical supplies, some clothes, and, of course, some toys. It’s not much, but sometimes it helps just to show you care.
The traveler is back on the scooter. His travel companion sits on the back, the bike seeming like it could topple at any moment because it’s so loaded with supplies. The camera rotates so it captures both riders in a selfie.
TRAVELER 1
Until next time, fellow travelers, this is the Night Shift signing off. I’m Chris Ford.
TRAVELER 2
And I’m Ella Monroe.
TRAVELER 1
Do justice today.
The camera turns off, then back on, showing a sea of young kids chasing after the sound of a rattling motor scooter.
FADE TO BLACK
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To my wife, Trace, the love of my life and my best friend since I was sixteen years old.
To my children, Jake, Emma, and Aiden, whose mischief over the years has provided fodder for my novels, and whose kindness, empathy, and accomplishments have made their father proud.
To my agent, Lisa Erbach Vance, the best representative an author could ever hope for, one who’s become a cherished friend along the way.
To my editor at St. Martin’s Minotaur Books, Joe Brosnan, whose vision, talent, and support are unparalleled.
To my other editors: my private editor, Ed Stackler, who helped guide the story and kept me on schedule; my copy editor at St. Martin’s, NaNá V. Stoelzle, who fixed all my mistakes; and my first reader (and daughter), Em, who never pulled any punches.
To my marketing and publicity team, Martin Quinn, Stephen Erickson, and Kayla Janas, who expertly ensure the world knows about my books.
To my TV/film team, Joseph Veltre of the Gersh Agency and ACE Entertainment.
To my friends at Arnold & Porter for their long-standing friendship and support.
To Kimberley Howe and my friends at the International Thriller Writers for helping me and so many writers achieve their dreams.
To writer Barry Lancet for our longtime friendship and his assistance with fight scenes.
To the many professionals who assisted with my research: the FBI’s Public Affairs office for advice on Bureau culture and protocol; John Thieszen, M.D., and Marc Futernick, M.D., for medical guidance; Professor R. H. Walton for investigatory insights (and for her outstanding book Cold Case Homicides); and former U.S. Attorney for the District of New Jersey Paul Fishman for his expertise on UFAP warrants and the Garden State. All errors are my own. As are the many liberties I took with the culture, legal world, and terrain of Union County, New Jersey.
To travel vloggers Mr. Bald and Simon Wilson, whose travels inspired the adventures of Mr. Nirvana.
To my readers, for giving me the honor of your time and for keeping reading alive.
About the Author
ALEX FINLAY lives in Washington, D.C. His 2021 breakout thriller, Every Last Fear, was an Indie Next pick, a LibraryReads selection, and an Amazon Editors’ Best Thriller, as well as being selected as a best or most anticipated thriller of the year by Reader’s Digest, Newsweek, Bloomberg Businessweek, Parade, Goodreads, and CNN amongst others. Alex’s work has been translated into more than a dozen languages and optioned for film and television.
ALEXFINLAYBOOKS.COM
An Invitation from the Publisher
We hope you enjoyed this book. We are an independent publisher dedicated to discovering brilliant books, new authors and great storytelling. Please join us at www.headofzeus.com and become part of our community of book-lovers.
We will keep you up to date with our latest books, author blogs, special previews, tempting offers, chances to win signed editions and much more.
Get in touch: hello@headofzeus.com
www.headofzeus.com
@headofzeus
@HoZ_Books
Head of Zeus Books
Alex Finlay, The Night Shift
