Cold Fear: (Cold Harbor Book 5)
Page 19
Riley might not be the right person to hold her right now, but he could support her. “He’s our son.”
Blake’s mouth dropped open, but he quickly recovered and closed it.
Leah smiled her thanks at Riley. Good. She apparently appreciated his admission.
“I think we should keep that between us for now,” he added. “Until Leah can decide how or if she wants to announce it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Felicity asked, the hurt obvious in her eyes.
Before Leah could speak, Blake guided her toward another dressing room door. “Let’s step in here to talk.”
Leah went first, and as Felicity started to follow, Blake gave a quick shake of his head. “Sorry, this is official business.”
She crossed her arms and glared at him.
He ignored her and motioned for Riley to go in.
“Why does Riley get to be included? He’s not even a friend. Just a guy who dumped Leah when she needed him.” Felicity shot him a resentful look.
“We can talk later,” Riley said.
She glared at him.
He felt bad for her, but he couldn’t do anything for her when Leah needed him more. He entered the room and went to the love seat where Leah sat, hands clasped.
He took a seat next to her. “I hope it was okay to tell them I’m Owen’s dad.”
“Yes, and I’ll have to make a statement soon, so you need to decide if you want that to be public knowledge.”
“It’s going to come out eventually, right?”
She nodded.
“Then better it comes from you.”
“But your father…”
“We’ll figure that out when the time comes,” he said, hoping to sound confident when he was anything but. His father would hate being embroiled in a public scandal, and Riley couldn’t predict what his father might do.
Blake stepped into the small room and closed the door. Riley felt like the air had been sucked out of the space. By the way Leah’s face paled, he could tell she was having similar feelings. He took her hand and cast a defiant look at Blake.
He wanted the killer found. Wanted him brought to justice. Wanted to help Blake, but Leah came first, and Riley made a promise right there—with God as his witness—that right along with Owen, she would come first in his life, no matter what he had to do.
17
Blake perched on the edge of the makeup table as he had yesterday, and Leah held her breath in wait for his questions. Just one day had passed. A mere twenty-four hours and another woman was murdered. This time it wasn’t someone Leah had a falling out with, but it was a young woman she cared about.
Sweet Helen. Such a sweet girl. Sure, it looked like she told the press about Owen, but Leah really didn’t believe it. Helen wasn’t that kind of a person. At least Leah didn’t think so. Maybe the killer had something to do with releasing that information. It sure looked like he wanted to destroy her life by hurting her, and letting the world know about Owen was a great way of doing so. But it didn’t appear that he knew about Owen at first. So what was the point of killing all these women? Jealousy? Retaliation for something? Destroying her career and her personal life forever? Who would go through such drastic measures—even inking a tattoo on the victims—to implicate Leah? She couldn’t figure it out.
Blake took out his notebook and pen. “Tell me about your relationship with Helen.”
Leah’s emotions were so raw she couldn’t imagine telling him about the special one-on-one times she shared with her makeup artist. “I’m not sure what you want to know.”
He looked like he wanted to sigh, but he calmly asked, “Were you friends?”
“Friendly as in an employer with her employee, but not personal friends. I did care about her, though. Does that make sense?”
Blake nodded and softened his tone. “Tell me about that.”
“She’d worked for me for only a year. It’s funny how we met.” The memory made Leah smile. “My regular makeup artist left to have a baby and wasn’t coming back. I had some artists referred to me, and Helen was the assistant to one of those candidates. But as I talked with her boss after she’d done my makeup, Helen kept giving me odd looks. She didn’t even realize she was doing it. But I had to know what was fueling it. So I finally asked her. She told me my makeup was all wrong, and she gave me reasons and a plan to fix it.”
That part of the memory wasn’t pleasant and Leah paused for a moment. “Helen’s boss fired her on the spot. I felt bad for her and gave her a chance to prove her theory. She redid my makeup, and she was absolutely right. From that day on, she worked for me. She was dependable and always a true supporter.” And sweet. And kind. Simply a delightful young lady.
“Any idea why she outed you to the press, then?” Blake asked.
Leah shook her head. “No idea at all, and no idea how she found out about Owen. I bet the killer is the one who actually did it.”
Blake looked up from his notepad. “I’ve contacted the reporter who broke the story. According to him, Helen had written an email to him saying she overheard a conversation you had with your mother.”
Leah shook her head. “I tried to be so careful. It’s like the picture of my tattoo when I was out running. I knew I didn’t make a mistake, and Piper proved that image was fake. Maybe the email came from someone else, too.”
“Or maybe not, and you didn’t want Helen to go to the press.”
“Of course I didn’t. If I wanted them to know, I would have told them.”
“So you killed her to stop her, but what you didn’t know is the damage had already been done. Is that what happened?”
Leah shook her head but didn’t speak. What did one say to such a ridiculous accusation?
Blake took a long breath, and she knew she wouldn’t like the next question any more than the last one. “Why did you want to keep your son a secret?”
She didn’t want to speak badly of Riley’s father. She looked at him for guidance. His eyes were narrowed, his face ashen, but he nodded.
She explained, being as kind as she could about her telling of Philip Glen’s actions. She finished and watched Blake, trying to decipher his thoughts.
His face was stony and unreadable as he came to his feet towering over her. “Then you had high stakes—the risk of losing your son—riding on keeping his existence undiscovered.”
She nodded. “But I wouldn’t kill anyone over it.”
Blake took out his phone and showed her a picture.
She took a quick look. No. Oh no. Someone snapped a photo of her creeping back into the hotel from her beach visit. Her stomach twisted.
His gaze intensified. “Looks like you didn’t want anyone to know you were out of your room.”
She didn’t think anyone saw her. She should have known better. There was always someone there. Looking. Prying. Always. “This doesn’t prove anything. I often wear this disguise to hide from the paparazzi. Even to go get a bucket of ice down the hall.”
“Thank you for confirming it’s you.”
She’d played right into his hand.
“But it’s not the disguise that’s the key here.” He wiggled the phone. “Look at the timestamp on the photo. It proves you weren’t in your room at the time Ms. Carpenter was murdered. You had motive and means to kill each victim. Opportunity is another thing. Can you account for your time the day Ms. Eubanks died?”
Leah and her mother had figured it all out except a few hours and that would be enough of a gap for him to believe in her guilt. “Not the entire day, no. I was home all day, but there was a few hours in the afternoon that I took a nap while Mom and Owen ran errands when I was alone.”
“Plenty of time to drive to Ms. Eubanks’ house and fire off two shots. And you have no alibi for Ms. Carpenter’s time of death either.”
“Enough!” Riley stepped forward and matched Blake’s combative stance. “I’ve stood by without saying anything, but I can’t anymore. Leah couldn’t have shot Helen. You
have her gun. And she doesn’t know how to create tattoos.”
“I’ll deal with the tattoos in a minute.” Blake shifted his focus back to Leah. “Do you own another gun?”
She wanted to lie, but he would find out. “I still have the one Riley gave me.”
“A Sig Sauer P250.” Riley looked at her. “You kept it?”
She nodded but didn’t comment. Now wasn’t the time to go into the fact that she’d kept the gun because it was from him.
“The Sig is a 9mm,” Blake said. “Your Luger didn’t match the bullets retrieved from the bodies. Means your Sig could be our murder weapon, and I need you to turn it over.”
She almost sighed in relief over the Luger not matching, but she had to go through the same process with the Sig and wasn’t out of the woods yet. For all she knew, the killer could’ve stolen it and used it to frame her. “I’m glad to give it to you, but it’s at my house in Portland.”
Blake cocked an eyebrow and stared at her. He obviously thought she had the gun here and had just used it. “Then I guess we’ll pick it up when we do our search of your hotel room and your house.”
All the privacy she’d worked so hard to build was now being violated.
Why Lord?
Riley shook his head. “You’re searching her house?”
Blake nodded.
“How can you seriously believe Leah killed these women?” Riley took a step toward Blake, looking like he might deck him.
She held out a hand to Riley. “It’s fine. I have nothing to hide.”
Riley met her gaze, and his anger dissipated a fraction.
“Where’s the gun located?” Blake asked.
“In a gun safe in my bedroom closet. The combination is 0721.” She glanced at Riley.
He was watching her carefully. Of course, he was. The safe combination was his birthday. She’d had the safe since he bought the gun, and she never changed the combination. Another thing that probably meant something, and she had to think everything she’d kept in her life regarding him. But not now. Not with Blake still staring at her.
“Despite Riley’s defense, you know how this looks, right?” Blake asked. “Add to it the fact you had Ms. Stevenson’s blood on your clothing along with GSR. That all victims are tattooed with your name. And—”
“Unbelievable,” Riley snapped. “You think Leah could’ve left the hotel, gotten the tattoo done, killed Helen, and still made it back to the hotel without me noticing she was gone?”
Blake lifted his shoulders. “I do, if she did the tattoo herself.”
Leah rolled her eyes. “As Riley said, I don’t know how to do tattoos.”
“Hmm,” Blake said. “Seems odd when we found this in your dressing room.”
He held out his phone and displayed a photo of a basket of tattoo equipment sitting next to her jewelry box.
She shot to her feet, nearly toppling Riley. “That’s not mine. Someone planted it.”
“She’s being framed.” Riley’s deadly intense tone raised Leah’s apprehensions.
“Forensics say otherwise.”
“But it’s all circumstantial,” Riley declared. “You don’t have anything to put Leah at the crime scenes.”
“I don’t have anything that doesn’t put her their either. And I have a list of evidence that I can recite. Ms. Stevenson’s blood on your clothing along with GSR. The letters to Ms. Eubanks have been verified as being signed with your signature. The victims wore your jewelry. All victims are tattooed with your name. Can you refute any one of these points?”
Breathing hard, Blake stared down on her. He seemed like a giant, and someone she had to battle. She felt like David looking up at Goliath. David wasn’t a match for Goliath, and she wasn’t a match for Blake. She’d come to the end of what she could do for herself. Totally the end. Caput. She finally had to put her trust in God. She was ashamed it had taken her this long to get here, but she was there now and raised her face in prayer.
“Leah?” Blake asked.
She finished her plea, and with her carefully controlled life disintegrating in front of her eyes, the first real comfort she’d ever experienced in her life spread through her. No knot in her stomach. No lingering worry. The nagging ache that warned of imminent disaster that she wasn’t even fully aware of carrying every day until now. She could do nothing, and with that came the knowledge that she didn’t have to try harder. Something she’d been doing every minute of every day. God didn’t want her to try harder. He wanted her to do her best with the gifts He’d given her, put her trust in Him, and let go. Start trusting and watch Him work.
“Leah,” Blake said. “Please answer my question.”
“No,” she said. “I can’t refute them, but why would I implicate myself by putting my own jewelry and tattoo on the victims if I was trying to get away with murder? That doesn’t make any sense. But if you need to arrest me, I understand and won’t make a scene.”
“What?” An incredulous expression claimed Riley’s face. “You can’t give in like that. You didn’t do anything wrong except trust people who betrayed you, and now someone is singling them out and killing them.”
Blake shifted his gaze to Riley. “Is that your head or some other part of you talking?”
“Everything in me believes in Leah. She’s not a killer. She’s a strong, amazing woman and the mother of my child. I’ll put all the resources of Blackwell Tactical behind keeping her out of jail.”
“Is that so?” Blake challenged.
Riley planted his feet, Leah’s defender in action, warming her heart. “If you want to test me just go ahead.”
Blake shoved his notebook into his pocket and took his time clipping the pen on the fabric before looking up and meeting Riley’s gaze. “I have to take this to the DA. I have no choice. It’s my job. But if you promise to keep an eye on Leah, I can cut her some slack and not detain her until the DA issues the warrant. If you come up with something to clear her before the warrant is issued, then I’m glad to reconsider.”
Yes, Leah was most certainly at the end of her abilities. Only God could keep her out of jail now.
Riley couldn’t believe what was happening. He had an hour—maybe less—to prove Leah’s innocence, and he had nothing to go on. He’d even had to tell Blake about the tracking software. He didn’t want to, but Leah insisted they be aboveboard and trust God no matter the consequences.
“It’s okay, you know,” Leah said to him from where she sat calmly on the love seat. “I’m trusting God to clear my name.”
She’d obviously turned a corner in her faith, and he was so proud of her. If only he could round the same corner, but trust didn’t come easily for him. Not after years of living with a father who had ulterior motives.
“You could do the same thing,” she said softly.
“Could I?”
“I get it. I really do. My life had to fall apart for me to place my complete trust in Him. I hope you can figure it out before you have to reach the same spot.”
He hoped so, too. “Still, trusting God doesn’t mean you give up and don’t fight with everything you have.”
“But see, that’s the problem,” she said, her voice even quieter. “I don’t have anything left. Nothing at all, but I can rest and leave it all in His hands.”
“Well, I can’t.” Riley jerked his phone from his pocket and dialed Sam. “Where are you?”
“At the heliport, why?”
He told her about Helen. “I think Leah is being set up, and it has to be someone who consistently has backstage access.”
“I can evaluate Helen’s murder scene if you want me to. Maybe something will jump out at me as being staged.”
“Yes. But hurry. We’re on a deadline.” He hated hearing how panicked he sounded, and he took a cleansing breath before he explained about the imminent arrest.
“I’m on my way,” Sam said quickly. “Tell Leah I’m on her side.”
“Is Eryn with you?” he asked before she could hang u
p.
“Yes.”
“Have her call me once you’re on the road.”
“Understood,” she said and the call went dead.
Riley faced Leah. “Sam’s on her way. She wants you to know she’s supporting you. When she gets here, she’ll evaluate the scene to see if it’s been staged.”
“You mean like someone putting the tattoo equipment in my dressing room? We both know I didn’t put it there.”
“Exactly.”
His phone rang, and it was Eryn. That meant that the team had really hustled to get on the road this quickly, and he owed them big time. Maybe when they arrived, they could brainstorm and come up with a way to keep Leah out of jail.
He answered the call. “I’m sure Sam told you about Helen as well as Leah’s pending arrest. So please tell me you’ve found something that might help.”
“Maybe. At least I’ve got something interesting. My algorithm found a post and picture in a fan forum where a guy uploaded a photo of his arm and hand. He’s holding a gun, and he’s got the infinity tattoo on his wrist with Leah’s name.”
“That’s great! Which wrist had the tattoo?”
“His left wrist. I’m searching for other posts he might have made to see if we can get a look at his face.”
“You’ve got to work faster,” Riley snapped.
“I’m doing all I can, and Piper is helping, too.”
Sam didn’t deserve for him to lose it on her. “I’m sorry for getting mad. It’s just…we have a limited time.”
“If you let me go, I can work on enhancing the image on our way there and maybe find an actionable lead.”
“Okay. Thanks.” He disconnected and relayed the information to Leah.
She narrowed her gaze. “This is so odd. I’m certain two people couldn’t know about my personal tattoo. I think this is all being done by my stalker.”
“Then maybe it’s time we consider the guy who did our tats, as he’s the only other person who could know about the tattoo.”
“Honestly, that’s the only thing that makes sense. Could we be lucky enough that he works at the same place? If we can figure out the shop where he worked, that is.”