Page 87 of Never Stay Gone
“Wayne’s motive,” Dakota said, “was that he was followin’ orders given byyou, Governor Riggs.Youtold Wayne to clean up Drew’s mess.Youtold him to eliminate Drew’s lover.Youtold him to get rid of Jessica’s baby.”
Dakota heard Drew sink to the ground. He heard Drew moan, saw, out of the corner of his eye, Drew put his head in his hands.
“It’s not the first time either,” Dakota continued. “You’ve had Wayne on Drew’s heels for years. Startin’ with Holly.”
“Holly?” Drew croaked. He lifted his head, looking from Dakota to Amanda and then back to Dakota. Confusion, anguish, heartbreak: it was all there in Drew’s eyes. “What do you mean, Holly?” There was something else too. Dread.
“Holly Holt went to your high school, right, Drew? Not many people remember high school all that clearly after so many years, but there’s a handful of your classmates who recall that you and Holly were close,” Dakota said. “Maybe you lost touch after you joined the army, or maybe you and her were in contact the whole time. Maybe she was the woman you were comin’ back for, and Amanda was just supposed to be a deployment fling.”
Drew swallowed.Bingo. Dakota watched the last of his already-pale coloring drain out of his face.
“You and Amanda were in Houston, recently married. Amanda was the newly elected mayor. Were things going wrong between you already? Was that why you and Holly met up to reconnect? Things started to get more serious between you two, didn’t they? Secret meetings in hotel rooms. Holly had a kid, a little girl, and you slipped her some money here and there.”
“She was a fucking prostitute!” Amanda snarled.
“She wasn’t,” Dakota said. He didn’t look at Amanda. He held Drew’s stare, finally delivering him a truth he had to have wondered about for years. “She was a lonely woman, in love with a man, and she was murdered for that love.”
I know how it feels to have your heart broken completely when you lose someone you love.
Dr. Trevino had confirmed the old bones in the grave belonged to Holly. When Holly was six, she fell off her bike and broke her ankle, and screws were put in to hold her bones together. After a decade of decay, it was almost impossible to see the old marks, but once Dr. Trevino did, and once she compared Holly’s old X-rays to the remains, the match was made. The FBI had taken Holly’s skull to drill out deep tissue, and the day before, the results had come back: a match. The bones belonged to Drew Riggs’s long-lost high school love.
“You sent Wayne to kill her,” Dakota said, twisting around to speak to Amanda. “Wayne buried her in the Texas Killin’ Fields off Interstate 45, and that was supposed to be the end of that. But people kept lookin’ for her… until you made a few calls, made it clear that Holly Holt’s disappearance wasn’t a priority. You put it out there that she was a sex worker. That she was not important. Truth was, you didn’t want anyone lookin’ too hard into a woman who had a past with your husband.”
Amanda’s lip curled back. Her shoulders heaved, her chest rising and falling like she was fighting for her life.
“Wayne learned his lesson from killin’ Holly, though,” Dakota said. “One death, one missing woman, is an anomaly. Five, six, seven dead women? Those are just numbers. Who they are gets lost in the noise.
“We got a ping on Wayne’s cell phone way out in the killin’ fields a few days before Amber Serrano’s death. Wayne dug up Holly’s bones and brought them all the way out to West Texas to bury with the others. He had a good idea: salt the grave with bones that don’t add up with the others. They were confoundin’. They almost derailed the whole investigation. And I know I’m not the smartest son of a bitch in the room.” Dakota smiled slowly, echoing Wayne’s words. “But then again, how smart were you and Wayne to send me out there? One of the few Rangers who’s ever worked those cold cases? Who workedHolly’scase—”
Dakota expected it when she lunged. He’d been egging her on the whole time, stringing the evidence out to frustrate her. He wanted her to boil over, to lash out. He’d seen her holding on to her control, needing a moment or a handhold to center her, so many times over the past six months. He’d ripped that away this time, along with her certainty, and left her dangling with no support. And then he’d sprung his trap.
“Youbastard!” she bellowed at Dakota. “You’re taking him away from me!”
It took Dakota a moment to realize she meant Drew.
Drew was a heap on the floor, tears streaming down his face, body racked with sobs, hands grasping his hair as he shook his head. At least two women he’d loved had been taken from him—murdered—along with his baby. He had sneaked around, and he was an adulterer. He and Jessica had lied, and hurt others with their lies. Joey, for one, might never recover from his broken heart.
But how had it been for Drew to live with Amanda all these years? Trapped in a marriage he couldn’t escape?
“You’re mine, Drew,” Amanda hissed. Her eyes shone, hatred and obsession and evil all swirling together. “All those whores you thought you loved: I got rid of them all. You’remine, forever.”
Drew tipped to his side and buried his face in the carpet before he screamed.
“Amanda Riggs.” Dakota pulled his handcuffs from their holster on his belt. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Jessica Klein, Libby Lynn, Sophie Espinoza, Carly Hurst, Amber Serrano, Holly Holt, and Shelly Atchinson.” He read her her rights as Heath and Bennet worked her arms behind her back so Dakota could cuff her. She’d gone quiet, uncharacteristically silent, though she seemed to hum with a dangerous current.
“Send them in,” Bennet said to his own wire, and seconds later, a team of Rangers poured into the office. They’d taken up position inside the governor’s mansion as soon as Dakota, Heath, and Bennet had started their meeting, cutting off phone lines and email access and isolating Amanda Riggs. Now the mansion was a crime scene, about to be turned over for the next few weeks to a task force led by the Chief Ranger himself.
Bennet took charge of Amanda and led her away. Outside, the media swarmed, cameras and photographers and live TV news reporters waiting for a glimpse of the action. They’d have the shot of their lives when Governor Amanda Riggs was walked out in cuffs, marched down the drive, and put into the back of a Ranger truck.
All of that, though—the remaining investigation, the gory aftermath, the eventual trial—was for someone else. Dakota unplugged his recorder and ripped off his wire, then handed both to the nearest Ranger.
“C’mon,” he said to Heath. “Let’s go.”
Heath’s truck was parked behind the surveillance van, tucked into an alley behind the capitol. They could hear the shouts of the media, see the glow from the quartz lamps, but it was all a world away. Skyscrapers and office buildings towered overhead, throwing long evening shadows that mingled with the dust. The smells of the city sank into Dakota’s lungs: hot asphalt, stale gutters. Car exhaust.
“Well, this is a whole big-city mess,” Shane said, grinning as he leaned against the surveillance van. He was in a sling and moving gingerly—his ribs were still wrapped, and bruising still snaked up his neck and all the way down his torso.
“Yep,” Dakota said. He propped himself against Shane, steadying him, and Shane sagged into his side as Dakota wrapped his arm around Shane’s waist. “I don’t think I’m gonna be able to take you away to Austin with me. In fact, I don’t think I’m gonna be workin’ in Austin much longer. Pretty sure I don’t have a job with the governor anymore.”
