Hurry and wait was the name of the day for Brighton. He came into the office early so he could make sure everything was in place, and everyone knew their part about the meeting with Madeline. Brighton wanted her to think she was being treated like royalty and to have a false sense of security, so when he dropped the hammer on her, she wouldn't know what to do. He wanted the confession to just pop out of her mouth.
The room was ready and so was Brighton when Madeline Monahan arrived ten minutes early for her appointment. He showed her into the conference room they were going to meet in. No traditional interview room for her. Brighton offered her a cup of coffee, but she declined. She did accept a bottle of water.
"Thank you for coming in today, Ms. Monahan." Said Officer Brighton as he settled into his seat.
"You said it had to do with the son I gave up for adoption, of course I was going to come in and try to be of help." She replied quietly.
"Someone kidnapped him, and someone targeted his friend, who has been helping him, for murder."
"Oh, my!" she exclaimed.
"Yes, it's all very traumatic for both of them. Can you tell me what you know about your son and his life in this area?" he asked.
"I didn't know he lived here now. I thought he was still in Oregon with his adopted family. The last time I had heard anything about him was when he was getting ready to go to college. He would have just turned 18 years old, and I tried to contact him, but he didn't respond. I assumed he wasn't interested in meeting me and I left it at that." She answered. "I've never forgotten him. My baby boy has always been in my heart, but I couldn't force him to have a relationship with me."
"Do you know a man named Michael Collins?" he asked.
"No, should I?"
"He was a friend of your son's from college, and the police have implicated him in this case," explained Brighton.
The interview was not going the way he had hoped. She did not seem to have any direct connection to what was going on with Maggie, Andy, and Amelia. Brighton had to figure out how she was connected to the case; he was certain everything went through Andy's adoption. He was just having difficulty finding the string that tied them all together.
"Thank you for your help, Ms. Monahan. I appreciate you coming in and speaking with me today."
"I still can't believe my son is living here, too." She said. Her voice was shaking.
"What do you mean by 'too' Ms. Monahan?" asked Brighton.
"Oh, ah, nothing, nothing at all, just that he is here in the same city with me," she stammered. "I'm so surprised, is all."
Brighton didn't believe her; he could tell she was lying. The question was how to get her to tell him the truth. He needed more time.
"Can you tell me about the incident with the fire at Mr. Sim…"
"They never arrested me for that!" she interrupted Brighton midway through his question. "They dropped all charges!"
"Yes, I know. I just wanted to hear your side of the story regarding the fire."
"They blamed me, but I had nothing to do with it. Someone tried to make it look like I went in and set seven different fires that were just big enough to cause smoke and heat, but not enough to really burn anything down. They used nail polish remover as the accelerant. How weird is that? Well, then they left one of my scarves at the scene to make it look like I did it." She explained in a straightforward and factual manner.
"Funny, that is exactly what happened at your son's friend's home recently. How do you think that could happen? The exact same thing in the exact same way…very strange." Said Brighton.
"I do not know how something like this could happen!" screamed Madeline as she jumped up from her chair. "Are you trying to blame me?"
"No, not at all. I just find it strange that someone is using the same scenario used to accuse you a few years ago to try to scare your son's friend now.
Madeline sat down in a huff with her arms crossed, covering her chest. Her bottom lip puffed out in a childish pout.
"Ms. Monahan, who else is living here now?"
"I told you, no one! I was just surprised that my son was here." She said in her most petulant tone.
"I'm not sure I believe you. I think there is something you aren't telling me, and it could get your son killed. How would you like it if your son were murdered because my inability to stop the killer resulted from your withholding vital information from the investigation?" demanded Brighton as he hovered above Madeline.
Madeline sat rocking in her chair, her gaze locked onto the table, and her breathing shallow. She started mumbling to herself, inarticulate sounds that Brighton could barely hear. It looked as if she were about to cry at any moment when suddenly she popped up from her chair and started pacing about the room.
After three or four minutes of pacing about the room, Madeline returned to her seat and looked Brighton in the eyes.
"My daughter is here too. I had twins, and they went to two different families. My daughter met with me when she turned 18 years old and we have been in contact ever since."
"A twin? What is your daughter's name?" Said Brighton as his pulse raced.
"Her name is Jessica Barlow." Answered Madeline.