Authors: Erica Spindler
Tags: #Contemporary Women, #General, #Romance, #Suspense, #Thrillers, #Fiction
Justice for Sara (14 page)
She had put it there in an attempt to push him away; instead it drew her closer.
She struggled to sound reasonable. “Think this through, Luke. My past, who your father is. It would never work.”
“I’m my own man.”
“We can’t escape the past.”
“I’m not trying to.”
He lowered his gaze to her mouth and her heart seemed to stop with anticipation. She involuntarily curled her fingers into the soft fabric of his shirt.
“Stop running, Kit-Kat.”
“For all you know, I could be a cold-blooded—”
“You’re not.”
“You don’t know that. Maybe this, me being back, is a sick power trip. Forcing myself down Liberty’s throat. Laughing at them behind their backs.”
“I don’t think so.” He moved his hands from her shoulders to her upper arms, drew her closer.
“Get involved with me, I may bludgeon you to death. I may—”
He kissed her.
She resisted for a nanosecond, then she melted into him. Letting go, trusting her body in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to since her seventeenth year.
It was heady. And exciting.
It scared her to death.
Because, in that moment, the past disappeared. Melted away. And she was fully present, in this man’s arms. Nothing else mattered. Nothing could intrude.
She felt his cell phone, attached to his hip, go off. It vibrated against her side. But still he held her. Still he kissed her.
On the fourth alert, he muttered under his breath and broke away. “Tanner,” he said, voice thick.
They stood so close Kat could hear the panicked voice on the other end of the line.
Her house was on fire.
Iris Bell
2003
Two days after the murder
Iris Bell prided herself on her seventy-five years of life. She’d raised her kids right, taken care of home and husband, weathering the ups and downs with grace. A husband’s unfaithfulness. A child’s cancer. The loss of loved ones. She understood her place in the world. She understood she was the glue. That all women were.
But the world had gone to hell in a handbasket. Until death do us part had become meaningless. The family home was an outdated concept. Today, parents chased jobs from one place to another, toting their kids with them. Both parents, leaving their children to raise themselves with fast food and video games.
“How are you today, Mrs. Bell?”
She looked at the woman, dressed in white. “Do I know you?”
“I’m Amelia, your nurse.”
Iris blinked and looked around her. “Where am I?”
“Lakeview Regional Hospital. Remember? You arrived two days ago.”
“That’s right.” She plucked at the blanket, wanting to ask another question but having the feeling it was something she should already know.
“There’s someone here to see you.”
Iris shifted her gaze to the doorway. Not Ned. Not one of the kids. Chief Tanner. And he’d brought her flowers.
She waved him in. “Aren’t you the sweetest man. I’ll just get a vase for those.”
She moved to climb out of the bed, but the nurse stopped her. “I’ve got them, Mrs. Bell. You stay where you are.” She took the flowers—Iris realized they were already in a vase—and set them on the table beside the bed. “I’ll just leave you two alone to chat.”
“Thanks for stopping by,” Iris called after her, looking back at Chief Tanner. Such a big man. Why in the world did he even need to carry a gun?
She tipped her face up to look him in the eyes. “I’ll get a crick in my neck, better come have a seat. And wipe your feet, I just mopped the floor.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, looking startled. She smiled at the way he carefully sat, as if he might break the chair. That chair had survived a lifetime with her Ned, it would survive this little visit.
“I have a question for you, Chief,” she said.
He took a small spiral notebook and pen out of his coat pocket. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Whatever happened to dinner at the table at five thirty, the entire family in attendance?” She leaned forward. “With hair combed and hands washed.”
“Times change, Miz Bell.”
“And what about worship on Sundays?”
“I don’t know, ma’am.”
“Hell in a handbasket,” she said. “And now this.”
“Pardon?”
“You’re here because of all the goings-on over at the McCall place.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’d like to ask you a few questions about that, if you feel up to it?”
“Of course I am. Right as rain, dear.” She smiled at him, waiting.
“Sara McCall is dead. Somebody killed her.”
“Oh dear.” She brought a hand to her throat, then dropped it back to her lap. “I was afraid something like this might happen.”
“What do you mean, Miz Bell?”
“The way they were always fighting.” She shook her head. “It wasn’t right. Not at all.”
“Who was always fighting?”
“Miss Sara and Miss Katherine. She was a wild one.”
“Who was a wild one?”
Iris narrowed her eyes. “Are you being deliberately thick, Chief Tanner?”
A smile tugged at his mouth. “Actually, I am. I can’t assume anything. It wouldn’t hold up in court.”
She nodded, pleased. “Very well, then. I’ll be specific. I meant Katherine. Always causing her sister fits.”
“Fits?”
“Lying. Sneaking out at night. Hanging with a bad crowd.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Now she’ll never forgive herself.”
He leaned toward her, pen poised over his notebook. “What do you mean, Miz Bell?”
“Katherine wished her sister were dead. And now she is. Why, Chief,” she said, “your hands are shaking.”
He flattened them against his thighs. “Too much coffee this morning.”
He cleared his throat. “How do you know Katherine McCall wished her sister was dead?”
“I heard her say it. Just the other day.”
“Tell me about that.”
Poor man, she thought, now his voice was shaking. “They were arguing. Out on the porch. I couldn’t help but overhear.”
“Your hearing must be very good.”
“They were shouting.”
“Do you wear a hearing aid, Miz Bell?”
She scowled at him. “That doesn’t mean I can’t hear, it makes me hear better. And if I need to, I turn it up.”
“Did Sara McCall confide in you?”
“The other day she came over and asked if I’d seen any boys around the house. I could tell she was real angry.”
“Had you? Seen any boys?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“When was this fight you overheard?”
“That same afternoon. After Miss Sara stopped by. They were on the front porch. Screaming at each other.”
“How long ago was that? Try to remember, Miz Bell.”
Iris brought a hand to her throat. “My pearls!” she exclaimed. “They’re gone.”
“It’s okay, Miz Bell. The hospital has them. Your wedding ring, too.”
She gazed at her left hand. It looked naked. Shriveled and old. Not like her hand at all.
“My ring, too?” she whispered. “Why would they do that?”
“For safekeeping.”
“You’ll get them back for me, Chief?”
“I will.” He laid his big hand over hers. “I promise.”
Strong and steady. The way a leader was supposed to be. “Thank you, Chief Tanner. You’re a good man.”
“Can we talk about Sara and Katherine McCall’s fight again?”
“They had a fight?”
“You were telling me you heard them arguing. On the front porch.”
Iris frowned. “What did they fight about?”
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
“Can I offer you a glass of iced tea, Chief? You sound parched.”
“No, thank you, ma’am.” He closed his notebook and stood. “It’s been lovely visiting with you.”
Iris tipped her face up to his. “I saw Miss Sara crying. Right over there on the porch steps. Poor baby seemed like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.”
Iris shook her head. “Such a shame. And now Miss Katherine has to live with it.”
“With what, Miz Bell?”
“To wish things like that and have them come true. I don’t know that I could.”
Tuesday, June 11
10:15
P.M.
Kat cried when she saw it. Black smoke swirling up to the sky, angry flames devouring Sara’s pretty little cottage. Stealing another piece of her past.
The Liberty Volunteer Fire Department had arrived with the ladder and pumper trucks; their lights bounced crazily off the surrounding homes and other vehicles. Like a life-size pinball machine.
Luke braked and she jumped out of the vehicle. The heat slammed into her, the smoke stung her eyes and nasal passages. She ran toward the house; Luke grabbed her around her waist, dragging her back.
She fought him. “Let me go!”
“There’s nothing you can do!”
“No.” She struggled. “I have to try!”
“To what?” He forced her to meet his eyes. “Save things you’ve lived without for ten years? Clothing that can be replaced?” He moved his hands to her shoulders. “Let the firefighters do their job, Kat. It may not be as bad as it looks.”
Word had spread and neighbors began to gather. Jeremy and Lilith arrived. He called her name. She turned and ran to him.
“Why, Jeremy?” she cried. “I can’t bear it!”
He caught her in a bear hug. “I don’t know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”
She pressed her face into his shoulder. “I shouldn’t have come back. It was a mistake.”
“Don’t say that. You belong here. This is your home.”
“I haven’t belonged here since Mom and Dad died.” She tipped her face up to his. “What will I do now? Where will I go?”
“You’ll stay with us,” he said. “As long as you need to.”
Luke joined them. “Fire’s extinguished. You got lucky, Kat. Mrs. Bell saw the fire early on and called 911. The firefighters were able to contain it to the front, right side of the house, which was probably the point of origin as well.”
“Does it look like arson?” Jeremy asked.
“Of course it was arson,” Lilith snapped. “Wake up, Jeremy.”
Kat flinched at her words. They hurt. Jeremy tightened his arm around her shoulder in silent support. “We don’t know that for sure,” he said.
Lilith looked annoyed. Luke stepped in. “No, we don’t. Firefighters are inside now, looking for evidence. I contacted the state fire marshal’s office; they’ll get word to their investigator for this area.” He turned his gaze to Kat’s. “We’ll get this sorted out.”
She swallowed past the lump that formed in her throat. She looked up at her cousin. “I’ve ruined your big night, Jeremy. I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t ruin anything. Understand? This isn’t your fault.”
“Thank God you weren’t home,” Lilith said. She glanced back at the smoldering cottage and shuddered. “This is why we live behind gates.”
Gates.
Danny’s image filled her head, his malevolent expression as he gazed at Jeremy
. Could he have done this?
“Yes,” Luke agreed, “thank God. Jeremy, Lilith, why don’t you head home? There’s nothing you can do here. I’ll bring Kat later.”
Jeremy shook his head. “We can wait, it’s not a problem.”
“My car’s here,” Kat said. “I can drive myself.”
“I don’t think you should.” Jeremy looked at Luke, as if for support. “This has been horrendous for you, you’re understandably upset. The last thing I think you should be doing—”
“I’ll be fine.” She squeezed his hand. “I promise.”
“I’ll make certain she gets there safe,” Luke said. “I’m not sure how long it will take to finish up here.”
Jeremy wanted to argue, Kat saw. But Lilith wasn’t making a secret of the fact she wanted to go home. In the end, Lilith—and Luke—won.
Kat watched them drive off, then turned to Luke. And found his gaze on her. The memory of their kiss filled her head, momentarily pushing aside the vision of flames against the night sky.
“You can stay with me,” he said softly. “I’ll take the couch. I promise to be a perfect gentleman.”
Somehow, that appealed more than the thought of Jeremy and Lilith’s luxurious home. But they both knew if she stayed with him, he wouldn’t be on the couch.
“I don’t think that’s such a smart idea.”
“I could change your mind about that.”
He could. She searched his gaze. “And I want you to, I really do. But I’ve given this town enough to talk about tomorrow morning.”
He nodded. “Jeremy and Lilith’s is the perfect place for you. You’ll be safe there.”
Locked away behind gates.
In her head, she heard the clang of them shutting behind her. She shuddered and rubbed her arms. “What if I’d been home?”
“I don’t think he meant for you to be.”
“He just wanted to scare me?”
“That’s one theory. Scare you enough to send you packing. Once you’re gone, he figures this whole thing will die down again.”
“And another one?”
“Just another attempt to punish you, because in his opinion, you got away with murder.”
“Like the graffiti and anonymous notes.”
He nodded. “Although arson certainly kicks that up a notch. I have one more theory.” He held her gaze. “Firefighters said the blaze started in the front room of the house, Kat. The front room.”
“Okay, so—” She bit the words back, realizing what he was getting at. “The boxes,” she said. “All our things from back then.”
“Yes. And among those things, maybe a journal. In which a murder victim shared all the most intimate details of her life. Her innermost thoughts and feelings. Her secrets.”
A murder victim’s secrets. Of course. The last thing the killer would want to come to light.
Danny.
Kat pictured the way he had looked at Jeremy tonight. As if he hated him.
As if he hated her.
“Danny knew what I was looking for. When I told him, he acted upset, then claimed not to know Sara journaled. And acted embarrassed at the idea that she might have written intimate things about their relationship.”
“Which could be true.”
“Yes, but he left the party early. And angry.”
“Who else knew about the boxes and what you were doing, Kat?”
“You and Danny.” She ticked off on her fingers. “Jeremy and Lilith. Maybe the high school boys who helped me move the boxes. I don’t remember what I said in front of them.” She thought a moment, searching. “My Realtor, Tish. I think I mentioned it when she called one day.”
“Of those, who knew you were looking for Sara’s journal?”
Kat thought a moment. “All of them but the high school boys. I didn’t tell Lilith directly, but I assume Jeremy would have told her.”
“And I haven’t been quiet about what I’ve been doing. Reopening the case. Interviewing people.”
“Ryan,” she said. “Bitsy.”
“The sheriff’s department. My department. Your neighbors.” He paused. “I asked my dad about the journal. He said they looked, that they couldn’t find it. In his opinion, it didn’t exist.”
“So I just made the whole thing up.”
“That or she stopped journaling.”
“She didn’t.”
“There were a lot of things about your sister’s life you weren’t aware of.”
It was true. It stung anyway. “Maybe your dad didn’t look hard enough, because he didn’t care if he found it.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Sure it does. Why work hard when you’ve already got your murderer locked up?”
She let that simmer a moment, then met his eyes. “Or when you’re trying to protect someone else. Maybe even trying to protect yourself.”
“That’s just silly, Kat. My dad didn’t kill your sister.”
“Silly? Really?” Her voice shook; she realized how close to the emotional edge she was but continued anyway. “Maybe this whole thing is a figment of my imagination? A product of my silliness?”
“You seriously think my dad might’ve killed your sister?”
His incredulous tone, the way he arched his eyebrows in disbelief pissed her off. “I haven’t crossed him off my list.”
“He was the law.”
She saw he was trying to control himself. Be patient. Understanding. Perversely, she wanted to push him until he lost it. “Cops abuse their power every day.”
“You’re tired. Upset. After a night’s sleep you’ll see things more clearly.”
“Maybe you’re the one not seeing clearly? Maybe your old man buried the truth?”
“Tomorrow we can discuss this rationally.”
She grabbed his arm. “Your dad never looked further than me for a suspect. Why is that?”
“Because you looked guilty, Kat. Damn guilty.”
His words affected her like a slap to the face. “Maybe you should join the Tar and Feather Kat McCall Club with everybody else in this shitty little town?”
“I don’t think you’re guilty. But there was a lot of circumstantial evidence. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Maybe your dad set the place on fire because he was afraid I’d find the journals, proving I
didn’t
do it and making him look like a fool? I don’t think the mighty Chief Stephen Tanner would enjoy the taste of crow.”
“Stop it, Kat.”
She shook with anger. “What would all the good folks of Liberty think if they learned their supercop was just a bumbling country lawman who was in way over his head?”
“Enough!”
“Not nearly. Not—” She turned on her heel and marched to her car. “I’m done.”
He caught up with her. “C’mon, Kat. I’ll drive you to Jeremy’s.”
“Not happening.” She yanked the car door open. “Thanks for the memorable evening.”
He caught the door, preventing her from closing it. “I’ll follow you to Jeremy’s.”
“You can do whatever you want.”
He bent to look her in the eyes. “You’re going to feel pretty silly about this tomorrow morning.”
“I hope so,” she said. “The door, if you don’t mind.”
He slammed it, then strolled to his vehicle, parked on the street, blocking her car. The minute he was in and had moved his vehicle out of her way, she took off.