Small Town Secrets

by Molly Kate Gray

  Wyatt fought to stand up without success. A swarm of officers pinned the still-raging young man to the floor while the head agent pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

  “You’ll never be able to prove anything.” Preston advanced on Tara as Josh stepped in front of her with a look challenging the older man to take his best shot. Before either of them could come to blows, a second set of handcuffs clicked into place behind Preston’s back.

  “Actually, you’ll be surprised at what we’ll be able to prove.” Josh shook his head coolly, cradling Tara at his side. His father had to be happy with his decision to go live right now. “Tampering with evidence. Bribery. Rape. The two of you will be going away for a very long time. We were just happy to let the world in on your dirty little secret.”

  “Why you … !” Preston tugged and fought against the uniformed officer’s grip on his arm as the federal agent attempted to lead him from the room. He lurched again at Josh, but couldn’t break away. “You’ve just reported yourself out of a job. I have friends who’ll make sure of that. How are you going to explain that to your viewers?” Preston glared as he continued to struggle against his handcuffs.

  “Actually, you already have.” Josh indicated the camera off to his side. “We’re live.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  February

  “David, Meghan had a baby at one this morning. I can’t believe you’re even awake. If I didn’t have the trial today, I wouldn’t be.” Tara carried the phone out of the kitchen and paced in front of the fireplace. “Please. I don’t want you there. Really.” She paused as David’s argument carried into the kitchen. After he’d exhausted his reasons for coming to the courthouse, she cupped her hand over the phone and lowered her voice. “It would be easier for me if you weren’t there. I don’t know what they’re going to ask me.” Her voice cracked as she nodded. “I know you do. Thanks. You just take care of my niece, okay? Bye.” Chewing her lip, she walked back into the kitchen and placed the phone on its cradle.

  “You should eat something.” Josh placed a plate of toast on the kitchen table. When he’d arrived at Tara’s house, he found her sitting on the porch with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, still wearing the clothes from the day before. He didn’t dare ask what time she’d gotten home from the hospital. After he began making breakfast, she went upstairs to shower in preparation for the trial. Now she appeared to be having a staring contest with the fried eggs on her plate.

  “I’m not hungry.” Tara pushed the plate away while turning a pale shade of green.

  “Are you all right?”

  Tara nodded stiffly. “Just nerves.”

  “Do you want some coffee?”

  Tara closed her eyes and thought for a moment. “Don’t think that’s such a good idea either.” She pushed away from the table and walked out of the kitchen. “I think I’ll just go dry my hair.”

  “Wait a minute.” Josh slid Rosie’s head off his leg as he stood and he followed her out of the kitchen. “Come here.” He reached out and pulled her into his arms. “It’s going to be okay.” He could feel Tara’s heart pounding in her chest. “Whatever happens on that stand, we’re going to get through it.” He rubbed a hand over the stiff muscles in her back. “I promise.” He pulled away and kissed her forehead. “We’re going to take them down.” He ran his hand down her arm.

  Tara took a deep breath and nodded. “At least that’s the plan.”

  “We are.” He stepped even closer to her and tilted her chin up so she was looking into his face. “And then I’ll take you out for a Valentine’s Day dinner.” He was rewarded by the barest hint of a smile.

  • • •

  “You can’t be serious.” Tara’s knuckles whitened as she gripped the handle to the car door. At least fifteen news vans stood parked in front of the courthouse. Even an hour before the trial’s scheduled start, the reporters were jockeying for the best position to begin their reports.

  In the center of the largest cluster of reporters stood a much-too-familiar form. Wyatt Miller, wearing the same suit he’d donned for the bachelor auction, shook hands and signed autographs for the supporters gathered around him.

  Students from the high school and other community members Tara recognized from town lined the stairs holding hand-painted signs and shouting their support.

  Wyatt Didn’t Do It!

  Don’t Take Away My Hero!

  We Support Mr. Miller!

  The circus-like atmosphere was worse than Tara even dreamed it might be. When Preston threatened Tara with not being prepared for what the trial would mean for her, she’d expected a few turned heads … gossip in the coffee shop, but not a full-scale protest.

  Josh opened the door for her and placed her hand atop his arm. “Are you ready?”

  “For that?” She stared ahead. “Not even close.”

  “Do we need to drive around back?” Josh paused as they reached the sidewalk before crossing the street.

  Tara inhaled slowly to steady her nerves. They could go in the back entrance to the building. So far, none of the reporters had recognized her, and she hadn’t drawn the attention of the crowd. But she hadn’t done anything wrong — she had nothing to hide. “No. I’ll be all right.” She took two more steps, still holding onto that thought. Then the crowd realized who was approaching the courthouse.

  “How could you do this to him?”

  “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

  “You’re just a slut!”

  Tara spun to face the vaguely familiar woman who made the comment. Smelling conflict, the reporters hurried to surround the pair. “You don’t even know me.” She interlocked her fingers with Josh’s.

  “But I know Wyatt.” She was the woman who won the date with Wyatt at the bachelor auction. Of course she’d be here. God, she was probably the president of the Wyatt Miller fan club. She pushed her way out of the crowd and stood almost nose-to-nose with Tara. “I’ve watched him play for years. He’s always been a gentleman. If he did anything, you asked for it.”

  Tara blinked in horror at the woman’s choice of words. She drew on the confidence she’d developed in years of working in front of the camera. “If you believe that, then I’m afraid you don’t know Wyatt at all.”

  “Tara! Tara! Come on, give me a statement.” Todd stood in front of Tara and blocked her path to the final stairwell leading to the front doors.

  “Please, let me by.” Tara shook her head and tried to step around Todd.

  “Just a minute, Tara.”

  “Get the camera the hell out of her face, Todd.” Josh placed his hand over the lens as he caught up with Tara and rested his hand on her shoulder.

  The restless crowd followed the pair up the courthouse steps. Josh held the door open. “Let’s go.”

  Tara closed her eyes and fought to take a breath in the crowded foyer. After the chaos outside, at least the spectators clustered here weren’t shouting. “We knew this was coming. I don’t know what else I expected.”

  “No matter what happens in there, we know the truth.” He took her hand in his. “You can do this. We’re going to make them pay. Today is Wyatt’s turn.”

  • • •

  “And how, exactly, did my client get in your house?” Bryant Sterling, Wyatt’s lawyer, appeared honestly perplexed as he asked the question.

  Tara answered without hesitation. “Our families were friends for a long time. His dad had a key.”

  “A key. From years ago?” Sterling looked in the direction of the jury as he strode to his oversized table. He picked up a piece of paper and held it in the air. Turning his attention to the judge, he tilted his head. “Defense Exhibit C, Your Honor.” He approached the witness stand and handed the page to Tara. “What is this, Miss Sullivan?”

  Tara looked at the page in confusion. “It’s a
receipt.”

  “What kind of receipt?”

  Tara swallowed thickly. “From Mr. C’s Locksmith.”

  He leaned one hand against the witness stand. “What exactly was the receipt for?” He turned to face the jury with a knowing smile on his face. He made eye contact with each of the men on the front row.

  Tara read over the bill slowly. “To replace all the locks at my house.”

  “Can you read the signature at the bottom of the bill?”

  Tara nodded. “It’s mine.”

  “So, there’s no way that key from years ago would still work?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I don’t remember getting the locks replaced.”

  His trap sprung, he smirked in her direction. “There seems to be a lot you don’t remember. Unlocking the door. Inviting him in.”

  “I didn’t invite him in.”

  “Are you sure?” He turned and pointed at Josh in the audience. “Or were you just surprised when your other boyfriend arrived at your house.”

  “Josh isn’t my other boyfriend.”

  “So you’re admitting Wyatt Miller was a boyfriend?”

  “No. No, I’m not.” Tara stared out at the crowd, looking for Josh’s show of support. His seat was empty. All she saw was his back as he walked out of the door.

  • • •

  Josh couldn’t believe he’d let it slip past him. Preston had even mentioned it during his meeting with Tara. How did Wyatt get that key?

  Even if Tara let him in her house, the man had no connection with the other victims. The “you’re dating both of them” card could only be played with the attack on Tara, and she was the only one on trial.

  Keys.

  How would Wyatt get keys? Josh thought back to the first night he’d met Wyatt. When Josh was leaving, Wyatt stood on the far side of the covered patio with a cigarette dangling between his fingers, but he never inhaled — not once.

  The whole time Josh stood there, Wyatt’s cigarette dangled limp at his side. Smoke swirled around him, but he never brought the cigarette to his mouth. So why was he on the porch?

  Josh tried harder to remember. After Peter pulled his car into the circle drive, he’d jogged down the stairs, simply in a hurry to leave. The valet waited alongside his car before jogging up the stairs and went immediately to Wyatt’s side. Why? Wyatt wasn’t leaving the party — he was the guest of honor.

  It couldn’t be that easy.

  He needed to see the valet.

  Could it really be that simple?

  Josh took one last glance at Tara on the witness stand. The line of questioning had her completely rattled. She didn’t know how Wyatt could have gotten hold of her keys.

  But if Josh’s theory was correct, he did. He just needed to find Peter.

  He stormed out of the building and through the mob of reporters. Pushing past a cameraman he used to work with in Boston, he made his way onto the covered front porch of the courthouse.

  Whipping his phone out of his pocket, he dialed as he charged down the stairs and into the parking lot. “Diana? I need you to do me a favor. Can you find out where a valet named Peter Vaughn works when he’s not at the inn?”

  • • •

  Peter dried his hand on a dishrag as he came to meet Josh in the empty dining room. Around them, servers made last-minute preparations before the steakhouse opened for the dinner crowd. “You wanted to talk with me?” He glanced uneasily around the room.

  “Why don’t we go outside?” Josh looked over Peter’s shoulder at the young woman paying rapt attention to their conversation.

  “Um,” Peter rolled onto his tiptoes and craned his neck to look for someone. “I need to tell Aunt Tina.”

  “Tina will understand.” Josh took hold of the college student’s arm and steered him out the front door. “You’re a jack-of-all-trades here, aren’t you?” He gestured to the dishrag in his hand. “Dishwasher. Valet. Is there anything you don’t do?”

  “I like to help my aunt out. She’s had a rough time since Uncle Billy’s been gone.”

  “And how is Billy holding up? Didn’t I read somewhere that the court decided to reopen his case? They found some new evidence?”

  “Yeah,” Peter narrowed his eyes with suspicion.

  “Interesting timing.” Josh took a step in Peter’s direction and the younger man backed up until his shirt brushed against the wall. “New evidence presents itself two years after your uncle went to jail. Convenient.”

  “I don’t know what you’re implying.”

  “You wanted your uncle out of jail.” Josh paused and looked at the valet stand. “Wyatt wanted keys to his victims’ houses.”

  Peter’s cheeks flushed red as he sputtered. “I … I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yeah, you do.” Josh moved in for the kill. He’d recognize the wide-eyed shock anywhere. “Two months ago, a woman named Tara Sullivan had to wait ten minutes to get her car after the charity golf tournament. They couldn’t find her keys, and you’d gone on your dinner break. You found them right away when you came back, but they hadn’t been in the cabinet. She’d checked for them herself.” Josh placed a hand on the wall just above Peter’s shoulder. “And on the night of Wyatt’s party, I watched you meet with him. You handed him something, but he wasn’t leaving. How did that make you feel later, when you found out Barbie got hurt?”

  “I didn’t have anything to do with that.”

  “I’ll bet if we check the restaurant’s receipts, we’ll discover another victim named Claire ate here the week before she was attacked. How did you know which house keys to copy? Was it random or did Wyatt give you a list?”

  “I didn’t do it.”

  “Sure you did.” Josh kept himself cool and in control. He knew that would scare Peter more than if he were yelling. “I’ve already checked. Your aunt’s running this restaurant into the ground. It’s been in your family for years. You wanted to get your uncle out of jail. Wyatt wanted in these women’s houses. They never thought twice about giving you their keys. They knew you, and Wyatt understood what that meant. It was a win-win scenario.”

  Peter stared back without answering.

  “That was your older sister watching us in there, right? Long brown hair. Attractive?”

  “That’s Charlotte,” Peter nodded.

  “What if he picks her next? If you don’t say anything, Wyatt gets out of jail. And he will, because Tara can’t explain how he got the key to her house. What if he comes after your sister next? She’s his type.”

  “He wouldn’t.”

  “You don’t know that. You have the power to stop him. You can keep another woman from going through this.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Josh parked his car on the street alongside the courthouse, surprised at the number of available spaces. He glanced at his watch — not quite five — too early for the court to have adjourned for the night.

  Rounding the corner to the front of the building, reporters stood all around the front lawn filming their stories for their stations. An ambulance was parked directly in front of the building, lights flashing. What in the hell happened while he was gone? He only needed to hear snippets before he hurried into the building in search of Tara.

  “The judge called a recess until nine tomorrow morning.”

  “The witness appeared to pass out on the stand.”

  “ … and when it was clear she couldn’t speak any longer … ”

  He sped through the hallway in the direction of the largest courtroom. Sniffling from around the corner stopped him in his tracks.

  “Here you go. Drink this.” An unfamiliar voice came from in front of him as he approached the benches outside the restrooms. A paramedic knelt on the ground next to Tara as she was seated on an
oak bench, holding a bottle of water in her hand. A second paramedic took her blood pressure.

  “I’m fine. Really.” Tara tried to push the men away from her.

  “You passed out on the stand. We have to check you out, ma’am.”

  “No. You don’t need to.” She pulled her arm away.

  “Let them do their job.” Josh approached her slowly, surprised to see the hurt in Tara’s expression.

  “Media needs to wait outside.” The first paramedic pointed at the door.

  “I’m not media right now.” He walked to stand at Tara’s side. “I’m with her.”

  “Are you?” Tara’s words were sharp.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You left. Right in the middle of questioning.” Tara’s hands shook and she spilled the water on her lap. “I thought … ”

  “Shh … ” He took a seat next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He turned to address the paramedics. “Is she okay?”

  The one who’d been taking her blood pressure nodded. “I think so. I’d feel better if she let us take her in and check her out.”

  “No.” Tara shook her head violently. “No hospitals. I was just upset and I got dizzy. I’ll be fine. I just want to go home.”

  “You’re not driving yourself.” The older paramedic began packing up his equipment.

  “She’s not.” Josh ran his hand over her arm possessively. “I’ll make sure she gets home safely.”

  The men began to walk out the front door. The younger one radioed the station that they were leaving the courthouse.

  “Where did you go?”

  Josh stroked Tara’s cheek, relieved that the color was returning to her cheeks. “I’ll explain after I get you home. Are you ready?”

  • • •

  Josh pulled into Tara’s driveway and stepped out of the car. He walked around to the passenger door and looked through the window. Even with Rosie’s booming greeting barks in the distance, Tara’s eyes were still tightly closed as her head rested against the side of the car. The circles under her eyes hinted that she hadn’t been sleeping as the trial approached. He knew she wasn’t eating. She’d just picked at the baked chicken she’d brought to the station on Wednesday night. He stared intently at her as he reached for the handle to the door. Pursing his lips, he realized they had more than one topic of conversation to discuss. “Hey. We’re here.”