When the Smoke Clears (Deadly Reunions)

by Lynette Eason

  “Thanks.”

  Alexia’s wooden responses concerned Hunter. Before he could pull her aside and talk to her in private, Serena arrived, black bag in hand. When she caught sight of Alexia, a small gasp escaped her.

  And for the first time, Hunter saw Alexia’s tough façade crack. Her lower lip trembled. Serena set her bag down and started to reach for her best friend.

  Hunter held up a hand and said to Alexia, “Have you been processed?”

  Both women froze. Alexia nodded. “Yes. Downstairs. One of the CSU guys did it.”

  Officer Mays nodded at his backup.

  Serena cleared her throat, gave Alexia the once-over, and narrowed her eyes at the sight of the blood. “Are you all right?”

  A small sigh escaped Alexia’s lips and she waved a hand as though dismissing the question. “He was still alive when I got here. I tried to stop the bleeding, but . . .” Biting her lip, she pulled in a deep breath. “He was hurt too bad.”

  “Okay.” Serena became all business. “You need to get cleaned up. We’ll talk as soon as I finish, all right?”

  “Sure.”

  Serena started down the basement stairs, then stopped to look back over her shoulder. “It’s really good to see you, Alexia. I’m so glad you decided to come home.”

  Alexia responded with a smile that trembled. “Yeah, well, I’m not so sure it was the best idea I’ve had lately.” Another deep breath. “Serena, it’s Devin.”

  A blank look crossed Serena’s face. “Who?”

  “Devin Wickham.”

  Disbelief flared, then sorrow. “Oh.” A pause and a frown. “Oh,” she repeated as though searching for words. “I thought it was just some random intruder. Devin? Really?”

  “Yes.”

  Officer Mays asked, “What was he doing here?”

  Hunter noticed Alexia’s flash of exasperation. Turning her green gaze in his direction, she said, “I don’t know.”

  Even though the answer was in response to the officer’s question, Hunter knew she was once again answering his own skeptical query.

  Serena’s gaze darted between the two of them. One of her brows shot north and she cocked her head as though she was going to say something. She must have decided against it, because she turned on her heel and made her way down to the man who’d been in the wrong house at the wrong time.

  And bothered the wrong person.

  Detective Katie Isaacs. Alexia had recognized her from high school. Three years ahead of Alexia, she’d been in Hunter’s class. Her narrow-eyed suspicion said she didn’t like Alexia and certainly didn’t believe Alexia’s accounting of what had happened.

  What hurt was the doubt on Hunter’s face. He didn’t believe her either.

  Why that should sting so much, she had no idea. Honestly, she hadn’t seen the man in ten years, and within seconds of their meeting, she cared what he thought about her?

  Now that made as much sense as . . . finding a dying man in her mother’s house.

  She pictured poor Devin’s face and shuddered. In her line of work, she’d seen a lot of damaged people. Burned, hurt in car accidents, suicides. But to have this happen in the house she grew up in, to a man she’d once cared about—

  “What made you decide to come home?”

  His voice jarred her and she jerked. Then processed his question. “Serena called me and told me my mother was in the hospital.” Well, that wasn’t the only reason, but it would do for now.

  “How’s your mom doing?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t gone over there yet. I had to stop here first.” The reason why she had to stop at the house first now eluded her.

  His eyes hadn’t changed in color or intensity, but he’d matured from the twenty-one-year-old junior in college into a thirty-two-year-old with a few lines around his eyes and a touch of gray at his temples. Probably due to the job.

  She had to admit, he looked great. Really, really great.

  Ignoring the sudden charge flowing through her veins, she raised a hand to rub at her aching forehead.

  He asked, “Can you give me a description of the intruder?”

  She closed her eyes, pulling the image of the person to the forefront of her mind. “I . . . he was tall. Taller than I am, but shorter than you.”

  Hunter wrote in his little book. “Eye color?”

  “Um . . . no. I didn’t let him get that close.”

  “Any odors? Smells?”

  “No, I didn’t pay any attention. I was running and calling 9-1-1 at the same time. I was just making sure he couldn’t get at me.”

  Hunter nodded and quirked a sideways smile at her. “Good idea.”

  “Wait! He did have something in his left hand.”

  He cocked his head. “What was it?”

  She rubbed her forehead. “I’m not sure. Maybe some kind of box? I couldn’t make it out. I wasn’t looking that hard at the left hand. The knife in his right hand pretty much had my full attention.”

  Another nod. “Understandable. How long did you and Devin date back in high school?”

  She blinked at the change in topic. “About six months. Most of my freshman year.”

  “Any contact since then?”

  “Not really. Well, yes. Sort of.”

  He lifted a brow. “Could you clear that up a little?”

  “Can I wash this blood off first?” She lifted her hands and inspected them.

  “Alexia.”

  “I’m serious, Hunter. Please. Then I’ll answer all the questions you want to ask.”

  Hunter sighed and led her outside to the ambulance. They climbed in, and he opened a compartment to pull out a roll of paper towels, a bottle of saline, and some liquid soap. “Hold your hands out.”

  “I could have used the sink in the kitchen.”

  “Not until CSU is finished processing the house.”

  “Right.”

  Once she was rid of the blood, she felt better. Her mind began to work again. The fog that seemed to cloud her since finding Devin’s body faded.

  “Hey, Hunter? What’s going on? Where are we?”

  The thick voice came from the car on the curb. The tall man who stumbled out of the vehicle tickled the recognition sensors in her brain.

  She thought she heard Hunter groan. “Get back in the car and finish sleeping it off, Chad.”

  Alexia finally put it together. Chad Graham, Hunter’s younger brother and twin to Christine. Tall and athletic, they’d been part of the “pretty people.” The popular crowd. Alexia had known them mostly by reputation. She remembered Christine had been on the girls’ basketball team and won a scholarship for her skills. Christine had always been kind, even just in passing.

  Chad had been the wrestler and star of the soccer team. She couldn’t remember if he went on to college or not. Probably.

  Only right now, he wasn’t very star-like. He ignored his brother and managed to put one foot in front of the other. As he came closer, she could smell the alcohol on him.

  With a muttered “Excuse me a minute,” Hunter reached for Chad’s arm. “Come here.”

  Chad yanked away from the light hold and turned toward Alexia. “Well, hello, pretty lady.”

  Alexia lifted a brow. “Hello, Chad.”

  “Wanna go on a date?”

  She’d dealt with drunks before. Car wrecks mostly. It was the drunks who usually survived. “Not—”

  “Come on, Chad,” Hunter interrupted. “Back to the car.”

  Chad frowned. “Don’t wanna.”

  Again, Hunter intervened. “Look, you understand how it is, I’m in the middle of an investigation—”

  “Who cares about your stupid investigation? I’m talking to the pretty lady.” He turned his eyes back to Alexia. “So, as I was asking before I was so rudely interrupted . . .”

  Alexia sighed and placed a hand on Chad’s forearm. “Why don’t we walk as we talk?”

  His countenance lightened and he followed her like a giddy pupp
y. She shot a glance at Hunter and the thunderous expression on his face made her gulp. She wasn’t sure if his look was directed at her or the drunken Chad. Nevertheless, he kept his mouth shut and followed them.

  Chad moaned and cupped his head. “I’ve got a headache.”

  “I know,” she soothed, slipping into first responder mode for the second time that night. “Why don’t you sit here and we’ll see if we can get that taken care of.”

  Without further protest, Chad slid into the backseat of the car and Hunter activated the child locks. He shut the door and did the same to the other one. “Should have done that to begin with.” He shook his head in disgust. “As much as he’s had to drink, I didn’t think he’d wake up for hours, much less be able to walk.” Hunter gave her a slow smile. “Thanks for getting him back in the car. I was going to have a fight on my hands.”

  Alexia shrugged. “I thought you might be mad at me for stepping in.”

  “No. Just mad at myself for not locking him in when I got here. Hopefully, he won’t be aware enough to climb over the seat and get out that way.” He took a deep breath, glanced one more time at the once-again snoring Chad, and said, “Now, can we finish our discussion about Devin and how often you’d been in touch with him?”

  She pulled in a deep breath and blew it out between pursed lips, looking back at the house. “Devin used to call every once in a while, just to talk and catch up. Like twice a year or something. Lately, it was more often—around every other month. I’m not sure why he felt the need, but I know he kind of looked in on my mother because he would ask if I’d called her lately.” Guilt pierced her. Devin had certainly done more than Alexia over the years when it came to caring for her mother.

  But her mother hadn’t wanted her care, she reminded herself. After a while, she’d stopped trying. A person could only take so much rejection.

  “When was the last time you talked to him?”

  She thought. “April. Sometime a little before Easter. He said he and my mother were now going to the same church and they’d love it if I’d come home for the Easter service.” Alexia wrinkled her nose. “I really can’t see either one as a churchgoer.”

  Hunter nodded. “I didn’t know Devin that well. Why’d you two break up?”

  Was it really any of his business? The previous doubt in his eyes still stung and she wasn’t feeling real chatty at the moment. However, she reined in her initial response and simply said, “He hit me. I wasn’t going to give him the chance to do it again.” Even at the age of fourteen, she knew she wasn’t interested in giving a guy another chance to beat on her. She got enough of that at home.

  Hunter’s jaw firmed and his eyes narrowed as he assessed her. Then his countenance softened. “Good for you then.”

  Serena exited the house and Alexia felt her stomach clench once more. She hadn’t realized she’d started to relax in Hunter’s presence—in spite of his questions.

  The ME came straight to Alexia and pulled her into a hug. “I’ve missed you,” Serena whispered in her ear.

  “I know. I’ve missed you too.”

  Serena had come to visit whenever they could coordinate days off, but it hadn’t been nearly often enough.

  Alexia looked at her friend. “Why was Devin here, do you know?”

  A hint of embarrassment dusted Serena’s cheeks. “Your mother was letting him live here.”

  “No.” Shock held her almost speechless. “When did that start?”

  “About a month ago. He lost his job and she kind of took him in, I guess.”

  “Why didn’t you mention it?”

  Serena’s flush deepened. “I don’t know. I suppose I didn’t really think it was that important. He’s been doing yard work and odd jobs for people until he could find something permanent. I’m not real sure of the details, just what I picked up at church.”

  Alexia stared at her friend.

  She knew exactly what Serena had been thinking and why she hadn’t mentioned Devin’s presence. Serena had been protecting her. Why rub salt in old wounds that had never really healed by telling her something that would hurt her?

  Still, now that she knew, the hurt spilled over. Once again, she’d been betrayed by a parent.

  At least that was how it felt. That her mother would choose to let Devin live with her after what he’d done to Alexia . . . well, it just went against everything in her to accept that.

  Anger burned within her as she sucked in a deep breath and schooled her features. “Oh.”

  She had a feeling she hadn’t fooled Serena or the man who stood silent and observant, taking in every detail of the conversation.

  “Hunter? You coming?”

  Detective Isaac’s voice jarred her. Alexia blinked and ordered herself to keep it together. She’d learned at an early age not to show too much emotion. Steeling her facial muscles, she turned toward the steps where the detective stood waiting.

  Hunter walked past her and into the house. Alexia started to follow when Serena took her hand. “You don’t need to go back down there.”

  “Good.” Breathing a harsh sigh of relief, she looked at Serena and gave a brittle smile. “Crazy way to see each other again, isn’t it? I think I much prefer you making the trip to Washington.”

  8

  Monday, 7:00 p.m.

  Hunter stared down at the body of the man he’d known only in passing.

  Katie joined him. “You think she did it?”

  “I don’t know.” The coroner had already placed the body in the bag, he just hadn’t zipped it. Serena would get Devin cleaned up and make the official call on how he died, but it was pretty obvious to Hunter. “Any sign of the weapon?”

  Katie shook her head. “No. A knife is missing from the set in the kitchen. The killer must have taken it with him.”

  “Assuming there was a him,” Hunter muttered.

  “Right.”

  With everything in him, he didn’t want to believe Alexia killed Devin, but he hadn’t seen her in ten years. He didn’t know what she was capable of. One thing he did know was that he was still attracted to her. Amazing that after ten years, he was still drawn to her haunting beauty. To the red hair that he was sure would singe his fingers should he touch it, and the eyes that looked like they’d been carved from the purest emeralds.

  More than ten years ago, he’d noticed more than her beauty, though; he’d been fascinated by her strength, her character, and her dogged determination to rise above her family’s lousy reputation.

  Today, he was just drawn to her. Definitely something he would have to dig deeper into at a later time.

  In spite of who his father was.

  He winced at the thought. Yeah, that might be a problem.

  Katie rubbed her chin. “I think we should search the house. You know, cover all our bases.”

  “We don’t need a warrant.” Hunter looked around, filing his personal thoughts away to be pulled out later and examined.

  Katie nodded. “We’ve got probable cause. The murder weapon could be in the house somewhere.”

  “CSU hasn’t found anything yet,” Hunter stated. “And there’s no evidence that says Alexia murdered Devin.”

  His partner snorted. “Except the blood on her hands.”

  Hunter watched the coroner zip the black body bag, then turned and headed back up the steps to find Alexia in deep conversation with Serena.

  Alexia was frowning. “I know I need to go, I just don’t want to.”

  “Your mother’s changed, Alexia. Give her a chance.”

  “So you’ve said a dozen times.” Alexia didn’t look convinced.

  Hunter watched her, curious at the expressions flitting across her face.

  She chewed her lip, looked at the ground, then back at Serena. “I’ve tried to call her.”

  “How often?”

  “Often enough,” she mumbled.

  Serena pushed. “And how many messages have you left?”

  Exasperated, Alexia threw her hands up.
“A couple.”

  Serena lifted an eyebrow.

  “Seriously, I’ve left several.”

  Hunter wondered how many several actually translated into.

  “And when she called you back, you didn’t answer, did you?” There was no condemnation in Serena’s voice, just a soft question that carried a wealth of meaning.

  Alexia groaned and bit her lip. “I . . . couldn’t,” she whispered. “I just . . . couldn’t.”

  “And I enabled that,” Serena said quietly.

  Alexia seemed to think about that for a minute. “I guess you did. You always kept me pretty well informed. I really had no reason to talk to her.” She must have remembered that Serena hadn’t told her about Devin, because she cut her eyes at Serena and added, “At least I thought you told me everything.” She paced, lifted her head, and spotted him standing there.

  “Sorry to eavesdrop,” he said.

  She simply stared at him with that blank expression that was starting to dig holes in his heart. What had she gone through as a child? What had her mother done that made Alexia cut off practically all communication? Instead of voicing his questions, he said, “Just thought I’d let you know, we’re searching the house.”

  The blank stare morphed into a frown. “For what?”

  “The murder weapon.”

  “But he took it . . .” Realization dawned and her lips thinned. “Oh. You still think I did it.”

  Hunter held up a hand. “Just call it covering all our bases.” He used Katie’s reasoning. “A knife is missing from the block in the kitchen. Did you go in there? Move it?”

  She frowned. “No. I heard something in the basement practically the moment I walked in the door. I didn’t touch anything in the kitchen.” Alexia bit her lip, then focused her gaze on his. “Do I need to call a lawyer?”

  Letting out a sigh, he said, “That’s certainly your right.”

  9

  Monday, 8:57 p.m.

  Alexia felt a surge of satisfaction. She’d passed on the lawyer. The fingerprint results would prove she’d been nowhere near the kitchen. And they’d searched the house—and her car—and found nothing.