Page 58 of Darkwater Lane (Stillhouse Lake #7)

GWEN

Diakos agrees to wait for me to find a lawyer, and I immediately text Kez for a suggestion since our usual attorney, Claudia, is already representing Sam and can’t represent us both.

Thankfully, the woman Kez recommended answers on the second ring, which is how I find myself in an unused hospital conference room with a woman named Victorinne Johnson next to me and Detective Diakos across from me.

A small camera sits on a tripod at the end of the table, recording everything.

We go through the night’s events, and I tell him everything, repeating the same story I shared with my new lawyer. Diakos listens, taking notes, and occasionally asking questions. For the most part, though, he just lets me talk.

When I’m done, he finishes writing something in his notebook and then sets his pen on top of the page before sitting back in his chair.

He considers me for a moment. I try to hold on to the fact that Kez thinks highly of Diakos and considers him fair and reasonable.

He had his doubts about Sam after Leo’s blood was found in the Stillhouse Lake house, but he held off on recommending charges because he knew there wasn’t enough evidence .

He didn’t try to push for a conviction just to increase his numbers. He actually cares about the truth.

Diakos taps his fingers against the table a few times as he seems to consider his next move.

“There’s something you should know,” he finally says.

The tone of his voice causes my stomach to churn with anxiety. I’m not going to like whatever comes next.

He pulls a small recorder from his pocket and places it between us. He presses play. There’s the click of a phone line picking up. The moment I hear the voice, I recognize it from earlier tonight. “911, what’s your?—?”

The emergency operator is cut off by my frantic voice. “Tell Diakos they’re out on Stillhouse Lake. I’m going after them.”

It’s the call I made while chasing after Sam and Madison earlier. In the background, I hear my feet pounding against the old wooden dock. A shiver traces down my spine as I recall the panic I felt in that moment.

“I remember the call,” I tell Diakos. I’m not sure why he feels the need to replay it.

He holds up a hand, indicating I should wait and keep listening.

The 911 operator continues calling out, “Ma’am? Ma’am, are you there? Can you hear me? Ma’am?”

There’s a loud clatter that confuses me at first. Then I remember…I dropped my phone in the boat before jumping in. That’s why I didn’t have it on me when I wanted to call Lanny earlier. At least that means it’s not at the bottom of the lake.

Suddenly, I understand the implications of what we’re listening to. I never hung up the call. So, unless the emergency operator did—which is incredibly unlikely—it would have continued recording. Which means, it would have caught the conversation I had with Madison.

My heart begins to pound so hard in my chest that my entire body thrums with it .

Madison confessed before she jumped into the lake. And we have a recording.

I shift to the edge of my chair, barely breathing as I listen.

There’s the catch of the motor, the slap of the hull against the lake’s surface as I sped after Madison and Sam.

I know what’s coming and brace myself. Even so, the gunshot causes me to jolt.

I swallow, my throat thick at the memory of Sam stumbling back and falling.

On the recording, I scream. I swallow thickly, listening as I cut the engine and shout for Madison to drop her weapon. Then another splash.

“That was her gun hitting the water,” I inform them. I glance toward Diakos. He nods, saying nothing—not wanting to interrupt the playback.

I note the way he watches me and try to school my features, but I can’t. I’m nearly giddy with relief. This recording will prove Sam’s innocence. Mine as well.

I lean back in my chair as the conversation between Madison and me plays out. Some words are drowned out by the splash of water against the metal hull, but not so much that we can’t hear most of what’s said.

I hear myself shout at her to get in the other boat. I hold my breath, seeing it all in my head. The way she moved toward the side, how she leaned out over the water. Then the push that sent my boat drifting away.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I hear myself scream. I wince at the rage in my voice. It’s even more evident when I demand again that she start the engine. At least I’m pretty sure that’s what I’m saying; it’s harder to hear, the words drowned out by the waves hitting the hull.

The next part comes through clearly though, at least enough of it: Madison saying, “Are you going to…shoot me?”

Diakos’s focus on me is razor sharp. I realize that it’s impossible to hear the taunt in her voice on the recording.

If you can’t see the way she’s holding her arms wide, the way she’s standing and waiting, practically crooking her fingers at me in invitation, then you might miss the implication of her words.

In fact, if you don’t know what you’re listening for, you might just think she’s begging for her life. Which is really, really bad for me.

After that, it’s hard to hear much of anything. The lake slaps against the boat, the sound of it echoing in the small conference room. I know Madison and I were still talking at this point. This is when she ended up confessing to all the murders.

Except the boat with my phone has drifted too far away.

I squeeze my eyes shut as I move closer to the recorder, struggling to make out our conversation.

I might hear voices, but it’s difficult to tell, and I certainly can’t pick out any words. My stomach churns, my breathing tight.

Diakos reaches forward to end the recording, but I pull the machine out of reach, clutching it to my ear. “She confessed,” I tell him. I sound desperate because I am. “This is when she said she killed all those men for me.”

From his expression, I can tell Diakos wants to believe me, but I’m not sure he actually does. I shake my head as the hope I’d felt earlier congeals into something sour. “There has to be something you can do. Some sort of audio filter you can run this through to amplify our voices.”

He takes the recorder from me. “We already did. This is the best we could get.”

I press my fingertips against my temples and take a deep breath. I’d hoped the recording would be the easy way out of this mess. But if anything, it only makes things worse.

I swallow back bile, my stomach churning.

“I’ve already spoken to the DA,” he says. He taps his fingers against the table again, and I wonder if he recognizes it’s a tell—something he does before delivering bad news. I brace myself .

“I’m sorry, Gwen. The DA plans to press charges against Sam.”

Anger and frustration rise up my neck, burning my cheeks. I expected Sam to be a suspect, but I figured that would just mean an investigation. That once the police sorted through all the evidence, they would realize Sam’s innocence. “For what?”

“Kidnapping. Assault. Attempted murder.”

I gasp in shock and outrage. “What?!” It’s worse than I thought it might be. “But he didn’t do any of that,” I argue. “Weren’t you listening to what I said earlier?”

Diakos looks at me with pity. “We have it on tape.” He gestures to the recorder on the table. “Madison, in her own words, saying that he came to her house and held her at gunpoint. We have the rope tied around her ankle, and your own admission that the other end was tied to a cement block.”

“She did that to herself,” I protest.

Diakos presses his lips together. I can tell he’s choosing his words carefully. “A jury won’t believe she did it to herself.”

“But that’s exactly what happened!” I shout. “I thought you cared about the truth, not what you could get a jury to buy.”

His expression folds into a frown. I’ve offended him.

Beside me, Victorinne rests a hand on my arm. Her way of telling me to cool my emotions and be careful what I say. I don’t have to be careful, what I’m saying is the truth. “Madison Westcott was a psychopath who was obsessed with me.”

“Obsessed enough to kill herself? If she cared about you so much, why would she set you up to take the fall for murdering her?” He lets that hang in the air.

I want to answer, but Victorinne’s grip tightens on my arm. “Is there anything else you need from us?” she asks crisply.

Diakos holds my eyes for a moment longer before breaking contact. “No. Not right now.”

She nods. “Then we’re done.”

He takes his time reaching over to turn off the video recorder .

“Gwen, I know you’re upset about the DA bringing charges against Sam,” he starts.

I snort, cutting him off. “Because he’s innocent. She set him up.”

“I get that’s your story, but I need you to listen.

Off the record. You’ve got to start worrying about yourself.

The DA wanted to include you in the indictment, and I talked him out of it.

For now. But it’s coming. Don’t spend so much of your time and energy trying to protect Sam that you forget about protecting yourself. ”

With that, he stands, packs up his equipment, and leaves.

Victorinne and I sit in silence for a moment. Shockwaves from Diakos’s revelations still echo through me. He wouldn’t be arresting Sam unless he was damn sure it would end in a conviction.

He wouldn’t be warning me if he didn’t think the same would be true for me.

My insides burn with anger, fear, and uneasiness. I’ve already been through this before: investigation, indictment, jail, trial. All for a crime I didn’t commit. Unfortunately, I worry this verdict might turn out different than the first.

The thought makes me nauseous. What will that mean for my kids? If both Sam and I are convicted, they would be on their own. It’s a realization that nearly causes a panic attack. I can’t let that happen.

“The knife used to kill Madison,” Victorinne finally says, leaving the statement open-ended.

I nod. “It was a gift from my friend Kez. The detective who works with Diakos.”