by Shelly Bell
Between the moment he’d left her bed early this morning and now, he’d lost that hope.
This time, he’d do whatever necessary to protect her.
Even if it meant hurting them both in the process.
The cop led him out of his cell and down a short hall. Police officers and other workers busily darted from room to room, none of them paying him any attention. To them, he was just another suspect. They didn’t know or care that the real baseball bat–wielding psychopath was still on the loose. Then again, as long as he was in police custody, the women around him, specifically Rebecca and Dreama, would be safe.
The officer opened the door to the interrogation room. Dreama shot up from her chair. She looked exhausted. Exhausted, but still beautiful. She was wearing one of her conservative navy suits.
Was she here as his parole officer or as his lover?
And why should the answer matter?
Once inside the interrogation room, Cash was surprised when the cop removed the metal from his wrists. Something must have happened because that wasn’t procedure. Earlier, Detective Henry had kept Cash handcuffed to the table.
Dreama clenched and unclenched her fists, but other than that, she didn’t move from her position at the far side of the six-foot table. Vibrating with tension, she reminded him of a shaken bottle of soda pop—ready to blow.
“We’ll be monitoring the room,” the officer said. He nodded once before turning to leave. “You have ten minutes.”
As soon as the door closed, Dreama launched across the room and hurled herself against his chest, burying her face into his shirt. “I’m sorry this happened. It’s all my fault.”
He opened his mouth to protest her claim when her words permeated. She’d just given him the opening he needed. It would be easy to pin the blame on her, then use it to drive her away.
But he just couldn’t do it. Not like that. He understood what it was like to live with the guilt over something he couldn’t change. It wasn’t her fault he was in here or that Nancy and Laci were dead. The responsibility lay solely in the hands of whoever had framed him.
But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t find another way to end things with her.
Knowing it might be the last time he had the chance, he held on to her tightly, memorizing the feeling of having her in his arms. “How is it your fault? You’re not the one who’s framing me for murder.”
She peered up at him. Her eyes were bloodshot as if she’d been crying. Seeing her in pain over him was like a wrecking ball to his gut. It was as if he were looking at his sister and his mother eight years ago. He’d failed them. Failed Maddie and Joshua. He couldn’t fail Dreama.
“If I had just listened to you from the very beginning,” Dreama said hoarsely, “right after the car tried to run me down, none of this would have happened.”
He plunged his hands into her soft hair and cradled the back of her head. She needed to understand that it wasn’t her fault. He’d been a willing participant. “We can’t change the past. We can only go from here.” His heart ached with imminent loss.
“I told the police you were with me in my apartment at the time of the murders,” she said, laying a hand on the side of his neck, over his pulse point. “They’re going to confirm the alibi with the guard. I told them you signed in as Ryder, so they’re bringing a photo of you. Finn thinks that will be enough to get them to drop the charges for now.”
That explained why he wasn’t handcuffed to a table. “Finn?”
Her gaze darted away before returning. “I asked him to represent you.”
Cash’s experience with Browner had left him apprehensive about using an attorney, but Finn McKay was Dreama’s friend. Plus, he’d already been helping Cash to uncover the truth about his past, proving that Cash could trust him. “Let him know it will take me a little time to pay for his services, but that I’m good for it.”
Her gaze dropped down to the floor as she nibbled on her bottom lip. “He’s not charging you.”
She was nervous.
“That’s generous of him,” he said cautiously. “Why would he do this for me?”
She wouldn’t look him in the eyes. “I’ve been keeping a secret from you.”
“Tell me.” He rubbed her shoulder, concerned by her behavior. “Whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll understand.”
Her rib cage expanded and fell as she took a deep breath. “When I was at your house, I saw a photograph of you on the wall. You were about two. I thought it was Maddox, Ryder and Jane’s child.”
He had no idea why that was relevant. “Okay. Lots of kids look alike.”
She placed her hands on his cheeks, her fingers sweeping across the top of his cheekbones. “No, Cash. You don’t understand. All the McKay males share one thing in common. Their eyes.” Tears spilled over. “I should have realized it sooner. The day we met, you seemed familiar to me, but I couldn’t understand why. I felt as if I already knew you.”
Understanding burned like a wildfire in his chest. He staggered backward, away from Dreama and the words that were coming.
But he couldn’t stop them. “Ryder and Finn’s father died last year,” Dreama said. “Before he passed, he told Ryder that he’d had another son. It’s you.”
His voice caught in his throat as his back hit the wall. “You can’t know that.”
“Their brother was born on Valentine’s Day the same year as you. He was given up for adoption. You have the same gray eyes, Cash. You’ll still have to do the DNA tests, but I know it in my gut: you’re their missing brother.”
His head felt as if it was about to explode. “Plenty of people have gray eyes and were born on my birthday. That doesn’t mean I’m their brother.”
“Would it be so bad if you were?” she asked quietly.
Dreama didn’t understand. He’d wanted to find his biological family, but on his own terms. The decision, like so many others, had been taken from him.
He shut his eyes and rubbed his temples in a feeble attempt to relieve the incessant pounding. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I tried,” she said quietly. “But with everything going on, I didn’t get the chance.”
“You’ve had plenty of chances,” he said sharply. “But you waited to drop this on me here, at the police station, when I’m under arrest for murder.” Maybe if it was a different time and it wasn’t the two men that Dreama considered family, he would’ve been ready for this information.
But he wasn’t.
Just like he wasn’t ready for what he was about to do.
In a way, it would’ve been better if she hadn’t told him. He’d been looking for a reason to end their relationship.
And she’d given him the ammunition.
Now he was going to load the pistol and shoot.
Eyes opening, he felt as if his chest had cracked wide open.
She swallowed, muscles in her cheeks twitching. “The longer I kept the secret, the harder it became to tell you, but I promise, I was going to. I never meant to keep it as long as I did. I know the timing was bad, but can’t you see this as a good thing? You wanted to find your family and now you have.”
He believed she would have eventually have told him. He wasn’t even mad.
Just resigned.
He hardened his jaw—and his heart. “You’ve been lying to me,” he said through gritted teeth.
She reared back as if he’d slapped her. Her bottom lip trembled. “To protect you.”
Since the beginning, she’d gone above and beyond for him, risking her career and her life. But what had he risked?
Not a damn thing.
He’d selfishly taken everything she had to give. It was time for him to take a risk. The greatest risk he could ever imagine. Losing her. Because there was nothing in this world he wanted more. He’d promised not to hurt her, and once he broke that promise, she might never forgive him.
Call him weak, but he couldn’t bear witness to the pain he was about to inflict. He thundered
away from her, desperate to get her feminine scent out of his nose. At a safer distance, he stopped, keeping his back to her as he said, “I told you how Maddie manipulated me. I can’t do that again. I won’t be involved with a woman who lies to me.”
It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see her pain because he could hear it in her voice. “What are you saying?”
“We had an agreement and I fulfilled it. I cured you of your phobia. Our agreement is done.” He dropped his head to his chest. “And so are we.”
Her loud footsteps neared. He braced himself for her tears, but instead, he got a slap to the chest. “You’re pushing me away in order to protect me, aren’t you?” Her eyes blazed with fury. “I’m not stupid, Cash, so don’t treat me as if I am. I quit my job, so there’s no need to hide our relationship anymore and now that the police are involved, you don’t have to worry that my life is in danger. I told them everything about the threats and how it’s all related to something you overheard the night of the accident.”
She quit her job? He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from asking what had happened. “Of course, I feel protective of you—just like I’m protective of all women—but that’s not what this is about.” Steeling himself, he dug inside himself for all the resentment he’d kept bottled up about Maddie and channeled it toward Dreama. “This is about my inability to trust you. If you could keep this kind of a secret from me, what else will you lie to me about?”
She lifted her chin. “You’re right. I am keeping another secret from you. Something you need to know before I go.” She brushed the back of her hand across his cheek. “I love you.”
His heart took off like a greyhound in an open yard. He was bleeding inside.
On her tiptoes, she kissed that same cheek, her soft lips lingering. Then she turned her back on him and strode to the door. “Goodbye, Cash.”
He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Until the killer is caught, I want you to stay at Jane’s. You’ll be safe there.”
She stopped in her tracks. “You don’t have the right to tell me what to do.” She peered over her shoulder at him. “But I’ll do it anyway. For you. Because I love you.”
Watching her walk away nearly killed him. He suppressed his need to pull her back into his arms and tell her the truth. That for the first time in his life, he was in love too.
But he had to let her go. If he didn’t, she’d continue poking her nose into his past. When the people responsible for threatening her were in jail, he’d come clean and tell her how he really felt about her.
He only hoped it wouldn’t be too late.
TWENTY-SEVEN
Let me get this straight,” Detective Henry said, leaning back in his chair. “Eight years ago, you overheard something that led to one or more people bribing an attorney to convince you to take a plea deal.” He laced his hands together and rested them on his protruding belly. “Do you have any proof that this attorney, Browner, took a bribe?”
Frustrated as all hell, Cash slid a glance at Finn before answering. “No.”
“And you don’t remember what you overheard or know for certain who you overheard,” Detective Henry said. Again.
Cash drummed his fingers on the table. He didn’t give a fuck if his nervous habit made him appear guilty. “No.”
In the past couple hours, they’d gone over this at least four times already. The police weren’t going to do a damn thing, so what did any of this matter? If they weren’t going to do their job, then Cash would just do it for them. He’d continue his own investigation. Unlike the good detective, he wouldn’t lean back in his chair and waste time repeating the same questions over and over again while innocent lives were at stake. Cash had to finish things once and for all—without Dreama’s help.
Detective Henry scratched his head. “While I admit the photograph and the baseball bat sent to Ms. Agosto have me intrigued, you have no proof that they’re connected to the murders of Ms. London or Ms. Balsom. Maybe you and your lover concocted this whole story just to throw us off your trail. Is that it? Let’s go over your alibi again.”
He’d had enough. Time was running out. Dreama and Rebecca were safe for the time being, but he couldn’t keep them locked away forever.
Cash slammed his fist on the table. “You already confirmed my alibi with the guard at Dreama’s apartment. My answers aren’t going to change even if you ask your questions in the form of a statement, so let me cut you off now. I’ve told you everything. Now are you going to do something about it or not?”
His attorney made a choking noise, covering his mouth with his hand.
The guy was…laughing?
Detective Henry sighed. He’d made it clear he didn’t believe anything Cash had to say. The only reason he was letting Cash go was because he had an alibi, but Cash had no doubt as soon as he left here, whoever was responsible for the other murders would be doing their best to frame Cash for another one.
“Listen, if Ms. Agosto files a report about the incident in front of Club X and brings me the photograph and baseball bat, I can open up an investigation into it,” the detective said, reluctance evident in his tone. “It’s not much to go on, but at least I can use it to question”—he looked down at his notes—“Sanders, Moran, Browner, and Lundquist.”
His attorney sat up in his chair. “Detective Henry, you’re no rookie. Surely you must have found it odd that you received two anonymous tips, both of which incriminated my client.”
Cash had to hand it to the guy. He was smart. He hadn’t outright accused the detective of lazy police work, but instead had wrapped the insinuation in a compliment.
Detective Henry no longer appeared so smug. “We get dozens of anonymous tips for crimes every day, but I can see your concern.”
“Good. Then you and I see eye to eye. Next time you try to arrest my client, you better make damned sure you have an identity behind your anonymous tip. Because if my client did hide a bloody baseball bat in his trunk, you can bet he wouldn’t be stupid enough to do it in front of a witness. Now, unless you can give me a reason why I can’t, I’m going to walk out of this station with Cash Turner beside me.”
Detective Henry stood, his jaw tight. “No. He’s free to go. For now.” The cop shot Cash one last contemptuous look and walked out of the room.
There was a long silence.
Unsure of what to say, Cash turned to the man sitting next to him. Normally, a quick thank you would suffice, but nothing about this situation was normal.
“So…apparently, you’re my brother,” Finn said, tapping his fingers on the table.
“That’s the running theory, but sharing DNA doesn’t make us brothers.” Although, Cash had to admit that it was a little freaky that Finn appeared to have the same finger-tapping habit as him.
“You have a problem with me in particular?” Finn flashed him a smile. “Tell the truth. It’s because I’m better looking than you, right?”
Cash let out a snort and shook his head. Other than his gray eyes, Finn didn’t resemble Cash at all. Finn was slighter in build and of average height with a paler complexion and reddish-blond hair. It was hard to believe they were brothers.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here,” Finn said. He typed a message on his phone, then popped up from his chair. “We can go across the street and grab a cup of coffee.”
Not seeing any choice, Cash followed Finn down the hall toward the exit. A part of him wanted to stay inside the police station, knowing that as soon as he walked out the front door, whoever had set him up would set their sights on the next target. “I really should get home.”
Finn smacked him on the back. “Hey, just one cup. It’s not every day you meet your long-lost brother, right?”
Cash rubbed the back of his neck, still feeling the sting of Finn’s hand on his back. For a smaller guy, Finn really packed a punch. “Yeah. Okay.” Cash could use the caffeine. He was currently running on the last legs of his adrenaline, and he had to figure out his next move. “Let
me call my sister and let her know I’m out.”
After his arrest, he’d made Rebecca promise to stay with a friend until the killer was caught, and unlike Dreama, he knew his sister would actually listen to him.
Since she’d walked out the door, Dreama’s parting words had played on repeat in his mind. She loved him. Him. An ex-con, a widower with nothing to his name. Maddie had claimed to love him, and maybe she had in her own way, but that love had been toxic to them both. Dreama’s love was as pure as the snow falling from the clouds.
And he’d destroyed it.
He pulled out his cell and dialed his sister. As he and Finn crossed the two-lane road to the coffee shop, he told Rebecca that he’d been released and would stay in touch. Understandably, she wanted to come and get him. When he explained he was having coffee with his attorney, he tried not to feel like a hypocrite for keeping the secret that Finn was also his biological brother.
Inside the coffee shop, he followed Finn to the back. As they approached, a man got up from his chair as if he’d been waiting for them to arrive. Cash noticed there were three cups of coffee on the table.
The stranger stuck out his hand. “I’m Ryder.”
Finn’s text must have been to let him know they were on their way. That’s why Finn had been so insistent that Cash join him for coffee.
“Is this an ambush?” Cash asked. This was the man who’d found Dreama after her attack and had saved her life. He owed Ryder more than a simple handshake, but for now, it would have to suffice.
“I called Ryder and asked him to meet us here,” Finn admitted.
Another decision had been taken from him. “Listen, Finn, I appreciate you coming down to the station to represent me, but I can’t deal with this brother shit right now.” Not until the murderer was no longer a threat to Dreama or his sister.
“I’m not here as your brother,” Ryder said. “Okay, maybe I was a little curious to meet you, but Finn and I are here as Dreama’s friends. We came to help.”
Where Finn was fair-skinned and fell somewhere on the ginger scale, Ryder had a darker complexion and brown hair. Only a few inches shorter than Cash, Ryder towered over his clearly older brother. The three of them couldn’t look more different, and yet if Dreama was right, they all shared the same biological father.
