Page 85 of Vicious Hearts

Authorities have yet to release an official statement, but sources suggest one courageous young woman, Roxanne Harlowe, was working on getting The Dollmaker case evidence reviewed. Roxanne was abducted only days ago, but she escaped and reported the incident to the police, who were slow to act.

A picture of Roxy that I recognize from her apartment. I smile at the sight.

Police initially believed Graham Fisher, a trustee at Always Home and former partner of Roxanne, was responsible for the attack. He was found dead two days ago, alongside evidence suggesting Fisher was, in fact, The Dollmaker. Believing herself safe, Roxanne went to visit Buckley. It was then that she discovered the terrible truth.

Bit tabloid-y. Wait until they get thewholestory.

A shot of Graham at a podium, giving a speech. It's bizarre to realize that, bad guy though he was, he wasn't evencloseto the worst. He was a bastard to Roxy and a shitty, unpleasant man, but he lost his son in a horrendous way. I wonder if it twisted him up inside and made him hateful. If so, I can understand that. Maybe go as far as empathize, though it feels unnatural.

We have yet to confirm the precise timeline, but we know that Roxanne planned to bring Farraday's wife Lois to visit her husband, hoping he would tell her the truth. Buckley became aware of this and set a plan in motion to delay the inevitable, leading the police on a wild goose chase.

Questions are being asked about lead Detective Tate Hillard, who was at the center of The Dollmaker investigation from the start. The experienced gumshoe gave hours of prosecution testimony against Farraday, and he discovered the body of Graham Fisher. It is now believed that Fisher was murdered by Buckley, who staged the scene to make it appear that Fisher not only committed suicide but was the dreaded child-killer. With police occupied, no one involved took the crucial final step of speaking to Farraday, and the delay gave Buckley what he was looking for—an opportunity to finish what he had started.

The people who snitch and info-mine for the Bratva are the same people who sell shit like this to the press. Hospital staff, correctional officers, cops, court clerks—they see things and are expected to keep their mouths shut. Why would they? Criminals and newspapers have tons of cash to throw around. This paper spent plenty.

Knowing his identity would soon come to light, Buckley lured Roxanne to him, claiming to have sustained an injury in an altercation with Fisher. Following an intervention from a friend of Roxanne, she was found alive and well at the former home of the Farraday family, which Buckley had planned to use as a new base for his heinous activities.

Moira Coffey, wife of senator and notorious pedophile Adrian Coffey, was found severely injured at the scene and later died. Her son Eddie was rescued and is recovering in hospital. The nature of their involvement is unclear at the moment.

A crappy long-lense shot of a small figure on a stretcher being carried to the ambulance.

Poor kid. We'll never know the truth about Moira's part in this mess—there's only Oliver's perspective, and he can't be trusted. Eddie Coffey is an orphan now. A boy with a painful legacy to live with.

There's that empathy again. I flip the page and keep reading.

Detective Hillard has been suspended following a debrief with the Commissioner and is expected to be summarily dismissed with prejudice for his role in the botched investigation that put an innocent man behind bars.

Hillard kinda had that coming. But the guy did the right thing in the end, and I respect him for that.

My name is nowhere to be seen. I assume Kal Antonov got the word out that, as far as anyone else is concerned, I don't exist. It probably wasn't a hard sell—the cops look bad enough right now, and the press doesn't like to get the attention of the Bratva if they can help it.

Roxy turns over to face me, her eyes fluttering open. Her hair is a rat's nest, her skin sallow, but her eyes are as beautiful and blue as ever.

She never looked better.

"How goes it, Major Tom?" I ask.

"That's what Ali said when I woke up in the hospital after you shot me. When did you start listening to Bowie, anyway? You said he wasn't your thing."

I shrug. "I've been here for hours and needed something to do. Or I've been playing his music for months because I adore you and want to understand the things you love. Pick one."

Roxy smiles and tries to sit up, but she's struggling. I hold her and reach for the pillows, plumping them up so she can settle comfortably.

"How's the shoulder?" she asks.

"I'll live." I grin. "Don't worry,charodeyka. You still have the upper hand. I'm the asshole here. Always was, and always will be."

"You'll have to stick around if you're gonna prove that."

Incredible that she can make jokes after everything she's been through. Once again, she ended up in mortal danger because of my stupidity.

I take her hand. "I don't deserve you," I say. "I know that. I killed my father, and when I told you the truth, I thought it would push you away for good. But it didn't. You showed me the compassion I desperately needed when I was a frightened kid."

"Why do you think I became a children's counselor?" she asks, stroking the back of my hand with her thumb. "Iwas a frightened kid, too. I would have given anything to have someone in my corner, even if all they did was listen." She sniffs, fighting back the tears. "Those kids must have been so afraid. To find themselves in Oliver's clutches, no one looking for them, no one to care whether they lived or died. Killed and dumped like junk. No dignity, no graves, no nothing. At least Eddie made it."

We fall silent for a minute. It's a mark of respect for Oliver's victims and the countless others who disappear, never to be seen again. Young lives lost and wasted.

It could so easily have been Roxy or me. We were forgotten children, too, but somehow we made it.

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