Then she remembered the flash drive. All the secrets her own mother had kept from her all of her life. And she thought perhaps it was those closest to her that she was blindest to. She wanted to trust Trent, and she hoped that one day she could tell him all about this and they’d laugh. She’d tell him how much she owed him, how sorry she was, how grateful she was that he was a true friend.
But today wasn’t that day. Today she was still unsure, and she owed it to Emma, Anna, and all the other victims to be as careful as possible.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’d love to, but I ate a huge breakfast. Maybe another time?”
“Yeah,” he nodded as he looked away. “Sure.”
He walked away as Amelia reached for her car door handle. Then he turned back.
“I’ve heard you’ve been spending a lot of time with Everett.”
Amelia’s cheeks flamed as she turned to him. She was furious and embarrassed. Whatever was going on between her and Everett was their business, their secret. She didn’t want the world to know about something she didn’t even understand yet.
“Oh?” she asked, hands on her hips. “Where did you hear that from?”
“I’ve seen you guys together,” he said, eyes narrowed and intense. “And I have my sources. Not like you’re denying it. Is that who you had your big breakfast with?”
“Trent! That is none of your business!”
“You barely know him, Amelia! You’re always so cautious around even your closest friends, but now you’re jumping into whatever with Everett? It doesn’t make sense.”
“He’s my attorney,” she reminded him as her own brain rallied against her. She was usually careful. Why had her guard fallen so quickly with him? “And what I do with Everett, how much time I spend with him, is up to me. Who do you think you are asking questions like this? This has nothing to do with you.”
“I’m just saying, be careful. Guys like him are charming when they need to be, but sneaky. I don’t want you getting hurt over a snake.”
“I don’t want to ever discuss this again. Mind your own business and quit spying on me!” Amelia opened her car door, hopped inside, and slammed it shut before Trent could answer. She was furious and suspicious. Was Trent only saying this because he was hiding something?
Probably. That’s what a guilty person would say. The guilty are always the first to accuse others of the crimes they’ve committed. And she was losing her trust in him. Her heart was already breaking at the thought of losing one of her closest friends.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Amelia cursed herself as she looked at the time on her cell phone. Late to work again. She was over it. Trent could be mad if he wanted, especially with how on edge he’d been lately. But was that her fault? No. She didn’t know what had gotten into him, and she refused to take the blame. She had enough to worry about.
Though thankfully, it appeared she wasn’t one of those things. She’d spent the night at Everett’s house again, looking through the flash drive and documenting everything. They were preparing it all to bring a solid case against Brett, though they had yet to find anything that further connected him to the murders.
However, they found links to other unsavory characters, people who had been accused of murders and other crimes themselves. He could’ve easily hired out the job. It actually made more sense that way. It would be difficult for him to do all the dirty work himself when he had a business to run. It made proving things more difficult but not impossible.
One thing they didn’t find, however, was Trent’s name among the others. It still didn’t mean he was innocent, of course. But it did allow Amelia to put a little more faith in him. She started to think maybe she could trust him after all.
The glare he leveled her way when she walked into the station, though, killed any warm feelings she’d been harboring for him. He looked just about ready to kill her. He was seething with anger, the kind he usually didn’t show, no matter what she did.
“I thought you were doing better,” he said as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Guess you were mistaken,” she replied as she walked right past him and set her things down on her desk.
“What is up with you lately?” he demanded. She narrowed her eyes. “You have such a different attitude. The change is…well, it’s obnoxious and worrisome. You were with him again, weren’t you?”
“That is none of your business!” she spat back, furious at him all over again. “Why do you think you have a say in what I do in my personal life?”
“Because it affects your professional life!”
“That’s stupid.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve always been like this. I’ve been trying to do better, but it takes time to make real changes. You can’t blame that on Everett. You just have something against Everett, and for the life of me I cannot figure out why. What did he ever do to you? What sort of red flags has he waved around?”
“Well,” Trent’s cheeks turned red as he looked away. “All this happened shortly around the same time he entered your life.”
“What? Emma’s case was ages ago, and we’ve had plenty of victims since then. He only came into my life because my mother died. He has no ties to this.”
“And you’ve gotten close to him so quickly.” Trent shook his head. “It’s not safe, and it doesn’t make sense to me. You’ve always had all those walls up, so why is it so different with him?”
Amelia couldn’t answer that. She’d been asking herself the same thing. The way she acted with Everett was so unusual. She just didn’t know what was different about him.
“Exactly!” Trent said when he went unanswered. “You can’t even answer that. I think it’s because he’s charming and manipulative. He’s hiding a snake underneath a poorly constructed mask, and you can’t see it because you’re so wrapped up in his spell.”
“You know nothing!” Her face heated as she thought of the private moments she and Everett had shared, how quickly she’d grown fond of him. “You barely know him, and you really should hold off on your judgments until you actually understand the situation. Talk about making my personal life affect my work. You’re the one causing all this trouble here!”
“I agree with Amelia,” Gabe cut in. He was met by a glare. She had no reason to trust him, even if he was trying to seem like he was on her side. She’d rather him just stay far away from her. “What matters now is that she’s here. She’s done more for this case than we have lately. Let’s focus on that, shall we?”
She wanted to tell Trent all about Gabe. Let him in on the secret. But instead, they had to act as a team until she and Everett figured this out. Never one to stay silent against injustice, this was torture for her.
“We have identified our victim,” Gabe said. “Isabella Martin. Twenty-four years old, younger than our other victims. She’s engaged. No children.”
“Any connection to Emma?” Amelia asked.
“Not that we’ve found yet. We’ve only been able to contact family and a few close friends. They think that we should investigate her fiancé, Dean. They say that she changed when she met him. Became more withdrawn, a little less cheerful. Apparently, she didn’t ever complain of abuse or anything. Family members have a keen eye for that kind of thing, and they say he seems off.”
“That’s not a lot to go on. Still worth questioning, but we haven’t been able to find him yet. That’s about all we have so far.”
“And the autopsy?” Amelia asked.
“No word on it yet.”
“I’ll go talk to Brenda,” she said, eager to get away from Trent. He mumbled something after her, but she didn’t catch it, didn’t want to hear it.
As she walked to Brenda’s office, she tried to string the pieces together. Isabella had to be related to Brett or Emma in some way, it just might take a while to find the connection. It took a while to find the connection from Anna to Emma, but she’d done it. She’d do the work to find the pieces again.
Yet the age difference
between the women puzzled her. Maybe Brett didn’t have a type, though, he just liked to kill women who got in his way. Who knew how many more crimes in the area they could link to him? She didn’t even want to think about it.
She had to catch this guy. She would. With her and Everett working together, they could take down Brett and keep the community safe. They would get justice.
This layer of protective vengeance was tested as she joined Brenda in the lab. At first, Brenda was all business. Cold to her and distant. Amelia had answered none of her texts lately. She hadn’t really been any kind of friend at all.
“I just finished up,” she said as they walked over to Isabella’s corpse. She was even paler than before; her eyes looked lost. Trapped in horror she could never escape. They seemed to ask why anyone had done this to her. Amelia wanted to know.
“The team didn’t find any forensic evidence linking Emma to Isabella,” Brenda explained. “I didn’t, either.” She pulled back the sheet to reveal a frighteningly thin body with bruises and cuts. “But I think she was held captive. There are ligature marks around her wrists, where she might’ve been tied up for some time, and broken fingernails that seem to show that she tried to claw out of something. The wound patterns are similar, cause of death is identical down to the amount of pressure the killer would’ve used when cutting her throat.
“There is one difference, though, that could point to a possible other killer. Isabella also has wounds that are in the process of healing. Broken bones, old bruises, torn ligaments. Some of these occurred before Isabella went missing. I suspect that she was subjected to abuse long before she was killed.”
Amelia thought of Dean, the fiancé that none of Isabella’s friends trusted. She’d found that family and friends often had a good sense when it came to these things. Loved ones weren’t always told the truth, they didn’t see it, yet they could feel it. The changes in their loved ones, odd exchanges between the couple, a general bad vibe about the abuser.
None of this stuff would hold up in court, but Amelia took it all seriously. She’d seen it one too many times before. Though she often wasn’t told about it until it was already too late for anyone to step in.
Was it possible that Dean killed Isabella? Sure. He very well could’ve been taking advantage of the women who were killed in the area, trying to mimic the killer to get away with killing his fiancé. Or the similarities could’ve been purely coincidental. Amelia fully believed that it was likely Dean abused Isabella. The suspicions of her family paired with the wounds on Isabella’s body spoke volumes.
Yet she still wasn’t completely convinced that Brett had nothing to do with it. Sure, Dean could’ve killed her. But Brett could’ve killed her, too. Abused women aren’t always killed by their abusers. She’d have to look further into Brett and Dean to try to get to the bottom of this. She hoped there weren’t two killers now on the loose, though it would ease her guilt over Isabella’s death.
“Brenda, do you think I could talk to you for a moment? Maybe not in front of a dead body?”
“I don’t know. I’m very busy, Amelia. And it seems you don’t have much time or patience for friendship anyway.”
“You know that’s not true. Please, just a moment? It’s important.”
Brenda looked at the friend she’d shared so much history with and sighed. “Okay. Just a moment.” She pulled the sheet back over Isabella, peeled off her lab outfit, and led Amelia into her office.
Brenda’s office was the best at the station. Colorful and quirky, decorated with skulls and flowers. A mix of life and death. Often victims’ families were brought here after the identification. Brenda would make them tea and talk to them instead of just sending them out into the world distraught and broken.
Brenda didn’t sit, so neither did Amelia. She stood, looked at her best friend, and missed her with all her heart. She hadn’t quite realized just how important Brenda was to her until she’d pushed her away this far. She always thought she’d come back, but maybe she was taking her for granted. Maybe it was time to be a better friend.
“Brenda,” she said as she gathered up all her nerve. She wasn’t used to this, but she knew it was important. “I’m sorry.”
Some tension left Brenda’s body as she unfolded her arms. Yet she still stood rigid. Amelia knew it couldn’t end there, so she opened her heart a bit, let a few precious things out.
“I know I’m harsh on you sometimes and I have no right to be. You’ve been there for me through everything, and I appreciate that more than you could ever know. I guess it’s just easier to take out your anger on those closest to you, and you are closest to me. You’re the sister I never had, and you mean so much to me. So, I’m going to do better, I promise. I’ll talk to you about things instead of lashing out. And I’ll be there to listen to you when you’re going through things instead of being so wrapped up with my own struggles. I want to show you how much I appreciate you being in my life. I will be the good friend you deserve.”
“You are a good friend,” Brenda said as she hugged her. “I know you just get tense sometimes and it makes sense, after all you’ve been through. But you can’t let people keep victimizing you. You can’t let ghosts rule your life. I’m here for you as you work through everything, but I won’t be your punching bag.”
“I know, I don’t want you to be.” As they parted, both were vulnerable in the best way. “I want to get back to a good, solid, equal friendship of love and understanding. How about drinks on Saturday evening? We can talk everything out and build a better friendship.”
“I’d love that,” Brenda smiled.
Amelia left refreshed. Finally, she realized that among the disturbing world of murder investigations, it was easier to have friends. It helped her not lose herself in the horror. If only she could fix things with Trent.
She looked over at him as she returned to her desk. One thing at a time. She texted Everett, then turned to Trent and Gabe to discuss Brenda’s findings.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Emma dipped her brush in white as dark memories danced through her mind. But they weren’t so dark, were they? Not at this point in time. That’s what made it so difficult. It wasn’t awful, not until that last twenty minutes. In fact, it was a fairytale.
She’d never painted her past before, but lately she couldn’t get away from it as she worked on the delicate details of her white dress. Flawless white rose petals. She was young here, beautiful, free from the world’s cares. She’d tossed them aside when she met him. She really thought she could move past all of this. She thought she’d never think of that cage again.
She closed her eyes. Slipping back in time like so many times lately, into her wedding. His hands rested on her back as they danced, the best part of the whole evening.
“I love you,” she whispered against his chest.
“I love you, too,” he said, his breath warm against her ear. “Forever and always. My cherished princess.”
She felt it even then. Even as throughout their marriage, he looked less like Prince Charming. Never cruel, but not quite as adoring. She dashed a bit of black in her eyes. Her pupils. Flashed to an interrogation room. The words all coming at her like a machine gun spraying her with bullets.
Nolan wasn’t actually Nolan.
His name was Timothy McConnell.
He was wanted for rape in Ohio.
He left her after someone in Texas working the cold case got a DNA match.
There were now hundreds of matches and claims coming in from multiple states, with more expected now, due to all the media coverage.
She questioned everything she had ever known. How can you date someone five years, live with that person for four years, and not know they’re a predator?
“You really didn’t know?” a young man asked as the bright light glared at her, revealing her stupidity, her naivety. His words had ripped apart every layer of her skin. Every inch of her was bleeding, and he didn’t care. Where anger once rested on his face,
there was pity. Suspicion had turned to sadness. She hated that even more than the threat that she’d go to jail for harboring him.
“No,” she shook her head. “Timothy McConnell never existed in my life. Wanted for rape in Ohio? I mean, I guess that’s not something mentioned in marriage vows. When he left, he left. He never told me that evidence of his DNA was catching up to him. I would’ve never married him if I knew. That’s not the life I wanted. That’s not the man I married.”
Emma had believed him when he said he had no family, that his parents were killed in a traffic accident. She believed him when he said he wanted to wait to get married until he could support her properly. None of this was true. His parents, sister, and the whole family were alive and well in Ohio.
He didn’t just lie to her, he made her entire life a lie and then left her here alone to live their life.
She cried as she realized that Nolan was just like her father with less money. She had only ever wanted to build a life away from Brett, away from horrible secrets. Yet she had fallen into the same trap that had caught her mother. She simply couldn’t bear it, and that night, she picked up the gun he’d left behind and wondered if death was a better alternative to this awful life.
She dipped into the silver to paint the crown that had held up her veil, one given to her by her mother. She looked down on her mother. Loved her. Pitied her. At moments, she even admired her. She wanted all her mother’s compassion without the willingness to stand beside a man who was nothing but trash.
She never thought she’d be here, broken and tricked.
That night, something had moved her hand from the trigger, though. She cried for a week straight. Only ate food that could be opened and eaten without cooking. Delivery was the most effort she could extend. She watched sad movies. Slept and sobbed. Helpless and betrayed.
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