Rory Masefield Jailed After Murdering Wife and His Drunk Driving Takes Life

Sabrina Masefield, mother of Xander Masefield and wife of Rory Masefield, was discovered dead with a gunshot wound to the head. Police immediately suspected husband Rory Masefield, whom the neighbors had been calling noise complaints about. After discovering Masefield, age 56, drunk at a local bar, he was arrested after a long night of drinking and lengthy car chase. In the car with him was his 12-year-old son Xander, who was uninjured in the crash that occurred November 2nd. The police were unable to open-fire on the vehicle, as they could not put the young boy in harm. The victims of the crash--

I steadied myself before I continued reading the article. I had turned off my phone to ignore the texts and calls that Katherine was leaving me. I had punched in the password--"Rosemary"--into Pierce's laptop. I barricaded myself in my room, ignoring my father's pleas and mother's worried glances. I scrolled through the article, rereading the paragraph over and over and over and over again. I had a feeling of the names that would pop up after "The victims of the crash."

The victims of the crash included ten-year-old Rosemary Prescott and father, Pierce Prescott. The child, unfortunately, did not survive the crash, and was dead on impact. Mr. Prescott remains in the hospital due to several fractured ribs and broken arm.

The rest of the article had no impact. It was like the opposite of the panic attack I had experienced earlier. Instead of a blinding surge of emotion, I felt...

...nothing...

a slight tinge of pity?

"He killed Carson," I told myself. "Pierce did it. He really, really did it."

I logged out of Google Chrome and stared at the lock screen. I scolded myself for not noticing the photo sooner: Pierce had a little girl rested on his shoulders. They were both so happy. But none of it was real, I supposed. Not anymore, anyway.

There were a few files visible on the home screen. Warcraft codes (I laughed a little too hard), Case Files 05-08, Case Files 09-13, Case files 14-16.

After some digging, some documents caught my attention. masefield, MASEFIELD 2, Harris Case, Carter Case, untitled video.

masefield:
If anyone's reading this, then you've caught me. Congratufuckinglations.

MASEFIELD 2:
What, you thought I was gonna put some information in here? I'm not that much of an idiot, Eliza (or whomever it may concern).

Harris Case:
* Drink was spiked
    * Minor
    * Regret
    * Idiot. Should let him die in jail
    * meh. he's growing on me
    * Cut brakes

Carter Case:
Everything's looking good so far. The kid's fun. The case will be over soon. Then I can get back to everything.

untitled video:
"Play?"

The video dated back to 2010. I realized that it was almost exactly a year after the article that entailed the car crash was published. I clicked the play button and watched the scene unfold.

Pierce fumbles on the keyboard for a few moments. He is laughing the whole time, as if someone behind him has uttered the world's funniest joke. He hasn't shaved in several weeks. It looks like he hasn't even showered.

He stares blankly into the camera before laughing maniacally. He withdraws a gun from his drawer and casually loads two bullets into the chamber. "It has been one year since my little girl left the world. And I don't think I can go on. So I, Pierce Prescott, in sound body and mind..." He pauses to share a chuckle with himself. "First come, first serve. Nobody will want my shit, anyway."

He raises the gun to his head.

"Pierce!" I screamed, as if the man from years ago could hear me through the camera. "Don't fucking do it!"

He fires. But the gun jammed. Nothing happens. I sighed in relief. He furrows his brow at the barrel of the gun, frustrated and upset. "God fucking dammit," he murmurs. He casually cocks the gun again.

I attempted to cover my eyes, but I couldn't look away. He fires again. The gun still doesn't fire. Pierce lets his head collapse onto the table, his body convulsing as he sobs. "Sick son of a fucking bitch, god fucking dammit," he mutters. He drinks himself to sleep.

Something rose in my chest. I clutched onto my shirt and breathed heavily. A tinge of pity, surrounded by despair.

I hid the tape recorder away in my nightstand, stuffed the laptop under my pillow, and ran out of the house.

I swear to God, this will be the last fucking time that I will ever be in this fucking police station, I groaned to myself as I swung into the parking lot. I threw the doors of the station open, knowing all too well at this point how to make my way to the interrogation room. A few officers attempted to stop me, but Officer Eliza came to my aid.

"Avery. You must be relieved," she said.

"Open the door for me," I ordered.

Eliza sighed. "You don't have to play this game anymore, Avery."

"OPEN THE DOOR!" I bellowed with a stomp of my foot. After a few confused glances from her fellow officers, Eliza groaned and ushered me into the interrogation room--on the opposite side of the glass, for once. She gently shut the door behind us.

Pierce had his feet rested up on his table, his head positioned towards the ceiling. He was whistling a high-pitched tune, causing Officer Eugene to wince.

"Pierce, we've worked together for ten years now," Eugene began in an emotionless drawl. "Why did you kill Carson Harris?" Pierce glanced at him for a moment, and then chortled to himself and continued whistling. "Wanna know why I think you did it, Pierce? I think it's because you found out this dumb kid lied to you. He didn't feel sorry about killing those people in the crash. It hit a little too close to home for you. You snapped--just because your little girl couldn't get justice didn't mean that Creonte's family couldn't. So you lured him to the hotel to kill him. And you've been trying to place the blame on Xander Masefield ever since."

Pierce shut his eyes and sighed. He whipped his legs around and sat upright. "Well, first of all, I didn't kill Carson Harris. And, off the record, luring him to that hotel would've been way too extravagant for me. Little cyanide or something would've been more my style. And, also, you guys are all idiots. Do I sound this obnoxious when I assume everyone's guilty? Cause damn, it's the worst. Cuff me just for being an ass, huh?"

"Pierce, I swear to fucking God--"

"No, Eugene, don't bring the big guy into this," Pierce interjected. "I want a moment alone with my lawyer--by the way, I'll be representing myself--so scram."

"Can...can I talk to him, Eliza?" I requested. I put on an innocent facade, looking down towards the floor and pouting a bit.

"Will you leave if I let you, Avery?" she asked. I nodded. "This is so unprofessional."

"Everything you people have done so far is unprofessional," I grumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing!" I replied gleefully as I entered the room, maneuvering around the exiting Officer Eugene. He shut the door behind him without acknowledging me. "Hey, Pierce." Pierce's eyes lit up, and then he hesitantly backed away in his chair in doubt.

"What the hell are you doing here, kid?" he asked. He couldn't look at me in the eyes.

"Why'd you kill Carson, Pierce?" I demanded. I kept my fists steady.

"Kid, you know that I--"

I interrupted the idiot by winking at him on the side of my face that Eliza and Eugene were unable to see. Pierce had to suppress a grin. "Kid, you think they serve liquor in here? I am parched." I, in turn, also had to suppress a grin. I just knew that he couldn't have done it. The murderer couldn't have been able to make me smile.

"Wanna know why I think you killed Carson, Pierce?" I asked. He opened his palms, gesturing for me to continue. "I think...I think that you wanted revenge for your daughter, right?" Pierce avoided eye-contact. He nodded softly. "So...you 'should've seen the look on his face,' right? But you couldn't...because you couldn't see him die."

"Leaving that there...not my smartest move," Pierce admitted. "Left it in my desk. Listen to it every now and then. Reminds me not to go back to that. Go back to ten years ago--back to what I used to be."

"You put Rory Masefield in jail, right?" I asked. Pierce gripped the table, his knuckles waning under the pressure. "And...and he died in jail, right? The son of a bitch...'he's fucking gone?'" Pierce stiffly nodded. "How'd you do that?"

"I didn't do anything. Some inmate stabbed Rory Masefield to death in his cell," Pierce replied casually. I shook my head and glanced towards the floor. I knew that I could piece together why Pierce left that tape and why he was so terrified of the cops finding it. I rapidly tapped my fingers against the table as I searched my thoughts for the right questions to ask.

"Some inmate stabbed Rory Masefield to death...?" Pierce nodded and grunted. I glanced towards the glass and pondered what Eugene and Eliza were doing on the other side. "Pierce, I need you to be honest with me."

"Avery, I don't know if that's possible right now," he candidly replied.

"I know, I know...just...pretend for me, okay?" Pierce reclined in his chair and nodded curtly, nervously glancing towards the window. "Rosemary dies." Pierce flinched and rubbed his eye. "Rory Masefield goes to jail. It's not enough, is it?"

Pierce gripped the edge of the table. "It's never enough," he sneered.

"So an inmate stabs Rory to death...because you asked him, Pierce?"

"No, Avery." Pierce's knuckles waned to a snow white as his fingers clenched the table.

"No, you didn't ask him. That's too polite. You ordered him, or you cashed in a favor, or you...I-I don't know, but you made him do it. You 'got rid of him.'"

"Avery, stop." His voice almost sounded like it was begging.

"You got the inmate to kill Rory Masefield, Pierce."

"Why are you doing this, Avery?" Pierce demanded through gritted teeth.

"If you don't admit that the tape was about Rory Masefield and not Carson, then I can't fucking help you, Pierce!" I screamed. "Just say it! The son of a bitch died and he deserved it and you wished you could've been there, because that would've been enough!"

Pierce abruptly stood, staggering to his feet as he pounded a fist on the table. His eyes were wild as he accusingly pointed his finger at me. "IT WILL NEVER BE ENOUGH!" he bellowed. "His death was not enough! That call that I made was not enough! Even if I beat him to death with my own fucking hands it would not. Be. ENOUGH!" Pierce spun around and punched the wall behind him.

"Pierce, stop," I ordered. "You're gonna hurt yourself."

He chose not to hear me. He assaulted the wall until his fist was bloodied and cracking against the concrete. I ran up to him and pulled him away from the wall. When I forced him around and made him look at me, I realized that his eyes were full of tears. "It's not enough, Avery. It's...it's not enough, it's not enough, it's not enough..."

"I know you miss her, Pierce. I know you didn't kill Carson. I don't blame you for Rory, Pierce." I rubbed his arm to console him, but he ignored me. Shaking his head, he sank away from me and collapsed in the chair.

"Four times," he uttered, his head buried in his arms. Before I could ask what he meant, he clarified: "I've tried to end my life four times now. The jammed gun was the first. I've let go of the wheel in the middle of traffic, only for cars to clear the way. I've starved myself, only for someone to check up on me and bring me to the hospital. I've tried to drown, but the ambulance got there too soon." He perked up his head, stared at me, and began to laugh hysterically. "I've done it all. And for some reason, nobody will let me go see my little girl!"

"Pierce, I'm gonna find Johanna. I'll get her to confess to everything, Pierce. I'll get you out of here. I promise, okay?" The door behind me swung open so fiercely that it clattered against the wall adjacent to it. Officer Eliza placed a hand on my arm and had to practically drag me out of the room. "Okay, Pierce?" I struggled against Eliza as she hauled me out of the room. "Get off!--h-he needs me! Pierce, tell me you're okay!"

"It's not enough, Avery," he whispered just loud enough for me to hear.

"Trust me, Pierce!" I yelled--I begged.

"I trust ya, kid," he replied softly. "I trust ya." His sobbing was muffled as he concealed his blushed face with his suit's sleeve.

Eliza glared at me as she slammed the door shut. I wretched her arm off of me and glowered at her. "He didn't kill Carson," I said.

"I guess he didn't, Avery," Eliza concurred. She sorrowfully looked back at the interrogation room. "But that doesn't matter. He just admitted to murder, Avery."

"Is it murder if you kill a monster?"

"He ordered a hit on a father, Carter."

"He took out the fucking madman that killed his daughter, Eliza! What don't you get about that?"

"I get it, Avery! If I could kill the monster that took my niece away from me, I would. I would do it a million times over. But that doesn't matter, Avery--no matter what, it's illegal."

"Eliza, I don't care what you have to do, but do this: Convince Eugene to join you with this, get rid of the goddamn recordings and whatever evidence you have of this conversation, and we all keep our mouths shut."

"Avery, you know I can't--"

"I know you can't, but you will."

"And why would I do that?" she demanded.

"Because I told you so, Officer," I retorted. "The next time I see Pierce, he better be okay."

"He'll never be okay, Avery. Not after what happened to him." Despite loathing the fact that I knew she was correct, I shook my head.

"Promise me, Eliza." When she was about to respond, I quieted her with a "Please."

"I...okay, Avery. I promise."

"Thank you," I whispered. I turned away, part of me knowing it wouldn't be my last time in the damn station, but every molecule of my body praying that I would never step foot in there again.

I found Yancey Bellford's contact information online. "Mr. Bellford?"

"Who may this be?"

"Avery Carter, from the Carson Harris case. I'd like to give you a statement."

"Oh, here we go! Yes, yes..." I heard him rushing around whatever room he was in, presumably searching for a pen and paper. "What would you like to say, Miss Carter? Something about Mr. Prescott's arrest?"

"Well, I know he didn't do it. I think I know who killed my Carson. Would you be able to get headlines out any time soon?" I inquired.

"But of course! Who do you suspect?"

"Johanna Creonte. Carson killed her family. Yancey?"

"Yes, Avery?"

"Say something good about Pierce. You owe it to him." I hung up the phone and proceeded home.

Pierce's laptop sat on my bed, right where I had left it. I tucked myself under the blanket and raised the brightness of the screen. I opened up Google and searched for ages on 'Johanna Creonte.'

Johanna Creonte. Johanna Creonte age 16. Johanna Creonte Eldbourne. Johanna Creonte Maine. Johanna Creonte Pennsylvania. Johanna Creonte Carson Harris. Johanna Creatoneeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. The only results that got me anywhere were articles detailing the Creonte family's gruesome demise and subsequent removal of Johanna from the equation. I couldn't find any pictures on her, no phone numbers, no addresses, no anything.

A train of hopeless thoughts spiraled through my mind, being interrupted by nothing but my phone desperately ringing on my nightstand.

"You are receiving a call from Eldbourne Police Station. Will you accept these charges?" a robotic voice inquired over the phone.

"Yes...?" I shakily replied.

"Kid, the drive," Pierce's voice blurted out.

"Pierce, are you okay? What happened before...I'm sorry, but I made Eliza promise that--"

"Kid, thank you, but I don't matter right now. The drive."

"What about the drive?"

"It's your car, right?"

"Yeah...and..."

"And you left it in my house. They found it in the sweep, kid. I don't know when, but they'll be after you soon enough." It took everything within me to prevent the phone from crashing onto the floor. "Avery, can you hear me?"

"Yeah, Pierce. I hear you."

"I don't know how, but you've gotta get outta Eldbourne. Find Johanna somehow, okay? I...I had a conversation with Xander. He kinda broke down in front of me--a little funny, if I do admit. He told me everything, kid. He told me that Johanna recruited him to attack Katherine in hopes of killing her. Xander said he was never gonna hurt you. He was gonna kill himself to stop the police getting any info out of him when he was arrested. That shit he did to you?--all him. Johanna just wanted Katherine out of the way, for whatever reason. I should've told you about her earlier, Avery, and I'm sorry. But she doesn't deserve any of this. But I give a shit about you, not her. Johanna Creonte killed Carson, Avery. She really did it. You've gotta find her. You've gotta--" A flat ringing tone interrupted Pierce's words.

"I've...I've gotta find her," I muttered to myself. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, inhale--

I screamed into my pillow. The monsters were catching up to me.