Lost in the Wild by Leigh Mayberry (i am malala young readers edition txt) 📕

Meghan stared at the first page. She turned the book, so it showed the image straight. She used the pen to flip to another random page. She turned the next page and the following page.

Meghan left the smartphone on the floor beside the notebook. She stood and walked with purpose back to the living room.

“Did you kill your niece, Eugene?” she asked. It felt as if broken glass churned in her stomach. She felt a burning in her throat.

“What? What are you talking about?” Eugene had a look on his face like his best friend just stabbed him in the gut.

“You tell me right now,” Meghan said. She stormed to the couch and kicked Eugene in the kneecap. He bellowed in pain. “Right now, right now, you tell me exactly what you did and where you’ve been since Saturday night.”

“I don’t understand,” he said before Meghan kicked him again.

She felt Lester’s hand on her shoulder and shrugged it off.

“You saw Christine on Saturday night at the school gym.”

He shook his head. “I went to the Memorial dance. I didn’t see Chrissy. I saw Joane and Earl. I saw Cecil.”

“You took off with Christine at what time, Eugene?”

“I didn’t,” he said.

Meghan kicked him in the kneecap again. He bellowed in pain. He fell to the side across the sofa, drawing up his legs. Still handcuffed behind his back, Eugene couldn’t fight back.

“You need to step back,” Lester said.

“If you saw it, Lester, you’d probably kill him. I’m saving his life.”

“What’s going on?”

“That sick bastard killed Christine. He took her from the school when everyone else had their backs turned. He took her out on the ice and threw her in.”

“Why? Why would I kill Chrissy? I love her. She’s my blood. She’s my brother’s daughter. I don’t understand. I don’t understand.” The rest of the words buried in the cushions.

“She’s your blood. You disgust me, Eugene. You are the worst kind of man. You prey on children. On your own family,” Meghan said.

“No, what are you talking about. I love Chrissy. Why are you doing this?”

“I’m tired, Eugene. I am so tired of people lying to me. I am tired of people using the system to get away with murder. I am all done. I’ve had enough.” Meghan broke away from Lester and snatched Eugene by a fistful of greasy hair. She wrenched on his head, forcing his neck to stretch hard. “I should take you out on the ice and throw you in, see how long you stay up.”

“I don’t understand.” Eugene cried and pulled tighter into the fetal position. “What are you talking about?”

“Chrissy’s dead,” Lester said. “She drowned in the bay. We recovered her jacket.” He watched Meghan. She saw him debating on pulling her off. “Gene, did you do it?”

“No, no, I swear, I didn’t do it. I didn’t know. I didn’t see her Saturday. I went with Nate. We bought some whiskey. We went drinking down in the cabin by the inlet.”

“Who were you with?” Lester asked.

“Nate. Me and Nate bought the bottles.”

“You have $900 in booze, Gene. Where’d you get the money?”

“I made some money doing repairs in Kiana last month. The guy finally paid me.”

“Who did you buy the booze from?”

“Chrissy’s dead, Lester? Are you serious?” It sunk in, and he began gasping and sobbing.

Meghan moved away from the couch. She wiped her hand on her jeans. Staring at Lester, he had to make the decisions.

“You can arrest me for assault. I don’t care.”

“Who can vouch for you at the cabin?” Lester asked.

“Nate. I was with Nate; we spent the last five days there. I got back and went to bed. Then you bust into my house and tell me my niece drowned.”

“This isn’t your house, asshole. This house belongs to the woman who you just stole a child from. You probably killed your brother when you found out Cliff wanted to move out and give the house to Joane.”

Meghan took several deep breaths. She waited for Lester. He stood facing the couch, watching the transformation of a guilty man. Eugene began the deep descent into his darkest nightmares. His body shook violently as he screamed and bawled. The snot and spit bubbled and oozed out of him. His breathing hindered the crying. His shoulders drawn tight to his head; Eugene responded to Meghan’s accusation like a madman finally unburdened by the past.

“Gene, did you kill your brother?” Lester asked. He kept his voice even, pressing down the overwhelming sensation that a man just involuntarily confessed to killing his brother. It came six years late.

“I didn’t mean it,” he sobbed. “I didn’t want to do it.”

Meghan had enough. She waved away the degenerate blubbering on the couch and wandered outside. The chilly air felt good on her sweaty and angry face. She didn’t wait for Lester. With Eugene handcuffed, he didn’t pose a threat to the acting police chief. She turned right on Rurik Way, and Meghan walked back to her lonely little house on Bison Street.

Chapter Twenty

Meghan walked home from Eugene’s house and took a long hot shower. She wanted to scrub away the images in her head from the drawing pad. She tried to disinfect her brain and hope that a man, who got away with murder once, wouldn’t get away with it again. Meghan tried scouring away the lies with body wash and a luffa sponge. She had had enough of the troublesome trickle of lousy faith and conniving people. Meghan knew in her time as police chief there were a few people in Kinguyakkii who she talked to face to face that deceived her. Criminals exhibited criminal behavior.

She moved from the bathroom to the bedroom and climbed into bed.