“What about Kyla?” Black asked. “Where was she on the day Piper disappeared?”
“I’ve been treading softly so we don’t tip her off that we’re digging into the case, but the owner of the beauty salon remembers seeing her. Back then, she was a nail technician working for the previous owner, and Kyla and Piper were both booked in for a manicure after school that afternoon. Kyla turned up on her own. Said Piper wasn’t feeling well and she’d rebook if there were any open appointments the next day, but the lady never heard from her.”
“Was Kyla at school that day?”
“I haven’t found anyone who remembers either way.”
“How about unusual movements? Disturbed earth? Trespassers?”
“There’s nothing.”
“There’s something. We just have to find it. I’ll come with you tomorrow.”
“What am I doing tomorrow?” Emmy asked.
“Running off pizza.”
Alaric’s phone rang before Emmy could come up with a retort. Judd was calling via video link. Alaric retreated to the living room as the crunch of gravel heralded the arrival of a delivery driver.
“Can I call you back in half an hour? Dinner just arrived.”
“You’ll want to hear this.”
Judd was using his “no messing around” voice. Clipped, professional, with the merest hint of underlying excitement. Alaric forgot about the pizza.
“What? Did you find something on the incident in Afghanistan?”
“Not Afghanistan. Syria. Or more precisely, two miles off the Syrian coast.”
Judd fiddled with the camera, and it panned back to reveal a rather tense-looking Hevrin sitting beside him. What the hell was going on?
“You’ll have to explain.”
“Nada here overheard me mentioning Eric Ridley’s name on the phone.”
“Hevrin,” Alaric said out of habit.
“Pretty sure that’s not her name either, so I’m sticking with Nada.” He gestured towards her. “Over to you.”
“Eric Ridley is a monster,” she said, and the steeliness in her tone shocked Alaric.
But he quickly adopted a neutral expression. “You’ll have to start at the beginning.”
Alaric felt a presence behind him, and he didn’t have to look to know it was Emmy. She moved like a cat, and he smelled the faintest hint of whatever shampoo she’d been using this month. Let her listen. He had a feeling this would concern all of them, and it would save him from explaining everything twice.
“Eight years ago, Eric Ridley and his men shot nineteen Kurdish refugees in the Mediterranean Sea. He called them vermin. It was fun for him.”
“I’m aware of the incident. He claims the victims shot at his boat first.”
“Hara! They were unarmed civilians.”
“Hara means bullshit,” Emmy murmured, although Alaric could have guessed.
“That’s not what the investigation said.”
“The investigation was a sham. They only found what they wanted to find.”
Granted, Alaric hadn’t spent much time with Hevrin, Nada, whatever her name was, but she’d always seemed meek. Quiet. And today? Today, she sounded angry.
“How do you know that?” Alaric asked.
A shrug.
“Nada wants to help with the Ridley sitch,” Judd cut in, “but she has trust issues.”
Could anyone blame her? Alaric had seen the way she lived. At one time in her life, she’d lost everything, everything except her daughter anyway.
Alaric tried again. “We just want to make the world a better place for your little girl to grow up in, but we can’t do that alone.”
“What did Eric Ridley do now?”
“Why do you think he’s done anything else?”
“Because he’s evil. As long as he is breathing, he is dangerous, and still he is walking around free.”
“We’re trying to do something about that, but so far, we can’t find enough evidence.”
“Your people erased the evidence.”
“My people?”
“The Americans.” She tugged her fingers through her hair. “I don’t know why I am even talking to you. I shouldn’t be here.”
“What evidence? What Americans?”
Silence.
“Hevrin, we want to help. We have the same goals. I may be American by birth, but all I want to do is find the truth.”
“Your government does not want to know the truth.”
“What makes you say that?”
“They were told Eric Ridley was lying, but they were more concerned with good publicity. Photo ops, hearts and minds, American troops riding in their trucks through towns where there is nothing left—nothing—and then patting themselves on the back when they return to their base because they didn’t die that day.”
“Who told them he was lying?”
And how did they know? Who exactly was Hevrin Moradi?
Judd turned to her. “Alaric’s right. We only want to help, I swear. And none of us work for the government, not anymore. Alaric, Naz, and I used to, but we all quit for exactly the reason you said. Governments don’t always do what’s right.”
Hevrin stayed quiet for a full minute.
Finally, she spoke. “The SDF. The Syrian Democratic Forces. Their representatives told US contacts what happened, and the Americans said they were mistaken. Then the witness’s village was bombed, and I do not believe that was a coincidence.”
Now Emmy stepped forward. “What witness?”
“Who are you?” She leaned closer to the screen. “I saw you on the Bellsfield Estate. With Alaric, the night Ryland Willis fell off the South Tower, and I do not believe that was a coincidence either.”
Ah, shit.
A hundred thoughts flew through Alaric’s head. His first instinct was to deny, deny, deny. Deny everything. Although there wasn’t enough evidence for a conviction—of that he was confident—none of them wanted an investigation into the Bellsfield debacle. But to deny the truth was to insult Hevrin’s intelligence. She was smart, that much was clear. They needed to gain her trust, not prove her fears were right—that everybody lied.
“Ryland Willis came out of the same mould as Eric Ridley.”
“Yes.” Hevrin looked surprised, probably because Alaric hadn’t tried to bullshit her. “I don’t know exactly what he did to Gemma, but I saw her that night, and I see her today. It was bad. And then there are the body parts they found in the pipes… He deserved his fate.”
“He did.”
“If I’d smelled the decomposition sooner, perhaps I could have stopped him. But I had a cold for several
