“Selfish. You’re the one using your son’s murder as means to control people. Don’t you want to know who really killed him? Don’t you want to know what really happened, or do you not give a shit? Did you love your own kid? Or maybe you already know what happened.”
“Don’t talk about my boy. You don’t know the first thing about him. No one does. You’ve got twenty-four hours to get these security assholes and construction companies out of here or I start turning the screws on your girlfriend. She won’t be in there long before I can get someone to get to her.”
I slam the phone against the dashboard as I hear the connection break. Maybe Hoyle is right about one thing. Maybe I am too selfish, because there isn’t a single part of me that wants to back down right now. Is it ego? Is it a vendetta? I don’t know. But I hit the accelerator even harder as I barrel toward the police station. I need answers from Rebecca. I need to know what really happened because I need to get her out of there.
Chapter Eleven
Rebecca
I wonder if this is what it was like for Devin? I imagine it was much worse. He was just a child really. I’m a full-grown woman, and I have Nick here watching out for me every step of the way. Devin had no one. I can’t fathom that.
I’m sitting in a room with a cold metal table in front of me. I want to lay my head on it but the steel is just too chilly for me to rest on. I’m trying not to think too much about what might happen. I’m just relying on all those people back at my new house who are going to do everything they can to get me out of here. And quickly I hope.
I was told I had a visitor. I’m guessing it’s Devin but I’m not sure. I wouldn’t blame him if he couldn’t set foot in this place ever again. The door swings open and Nick is standing there again, with Devin behind him.
“You only have about ten minutes. You can’t touch and I’ll be standing right outside this door. There are no cameras or microphones in this room so you can speak freely. It’s what we reserve for lawyers and their clients. I’m trying to get as much information together as I can, and I’ll keep you posted on everything I hear. But Devin, don’t do anything stupid. This will work itself out.”
“Thank you, Nick. I don’t know what we’d do without you,” I say, my hand over my heart, genuine gratitude I can see Devin scoffing at.
The door shuts and Devin hurries over to me, kissing me in spite of the rules that have just been laid out. I hear a knock on the door and we get a sideways look from Nick who points to Devin’s side of the table.
“Rebecca, are you okay?”
“I’m doing fine so far, I guess. I’m just scared. How is Adeline, does she know what’s going on? Is she asking questions?” I rub my fingers over the empty spot on my neck where my locket would be sitting. It’s gone. It’s the first thing they took from me when I got here and it feels like it left a hole in me.
“No. She thinks she’s having a slumber party. I know you’re scared. Trust me, I know exactly how daunting this is but I’m going to help you. Hoyle just called me on the way over here. The only way I can help you is if you tell me the truth. I need you to tell me exactly what happened.” Devin reaches out for my hand. The words don’t compute, and I twist my face up in confusion.
“What do you mean what happened?” I ask, wondering if he hit his head or something. He was standing right there when Nick came to get me. He saw what happened.
“I can help you but I need to know what happened that night with Brent. Did you go to his house to try to settle things? Did he hurt you? If this is self-defense, we can work it out. There are no cameras, no recorders in here, you can tell me.”
“Wait, are you actually saying . . .” I can’t get the words out. They are clogging up my throat and I’m choking on them.
“Rebecca, the journal, the medical examiner’s notes—Luke was able to decipher some of them. Your name was mentioned in it, something about your blood being at the scene. I panicked at first, that’s why I left for New York without saying anything.” His face is frantic like he can actually hear the ticking clock. He’s reaching again for my hand but every word he says has me retreating farther from his touch. I feel like I’m being sliced at, cut up, salt being poured into my wounds.
“Devin, I need you to stop talking right now.” I’m shocked at how calm my voice is with the pain I’m feeling. “Because nothing you’re saying is making any goddamn sense. I feel like I’m hearing you say you think I killed Brent. I think you might be saying that book pointed toward me and you headed for the hills. Ran away from me without so much as a conversation to clear the air. You didn’t bail on me because you were afraid, you bailed because you think I’m a murderer. You think you sat in prison for me?”
“Rebecca, I’m not upset. I wish you had told me sooner. But the time I spent in prison, I don’t regret that, I don’t blame you. I would have served my whole life for you.”
I reach across the table and for the second time in two weeks I slap him hard across the face. And both times he deserved it. I’ve never really tried to distinguish tears before; I mean, wet eyes are wet eyes, but my tears right now are hot and angry.
His hand flies to his cheek and the shock on his face actually makes me want to hit him again. He’s missing it. He’s missing the problem here. He can’t connect the dots between my anger and the fact that he’s accusing me of murder. I want to scream at him that he’s a backstabbing insensitive asshole. I refuse to spell this out. The point of all of this is he’s such an emotional wrecking ball that he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing.
“Get out,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him.
“I know Hoyle is behind the two girls and their statements. But explain the book, Rebecca, your blood. You kept trying to get me to stop chasing this down. I’m trying to piece it all together but you have to give me something.”
My voice is shaking with fury as I feel betrayal ripping at me. “GET OUT,” I demand again, pointing at the metal door. I can’t keep the tears from racing down my cheeks.
“Rebecca, I don’t understand . . .” Devin’s eyes are as wide as saucers as he searches for words. This isn’t what he expected. This isn’t what he thought would happen when he came here to rescue me with the truth.
“Get the hell out of here, Devin. I don’t need your kind of help. The only thing I want from you is to make sure Adeline stays with Nick and Jeanie. You don’t let her end up with my daddy, or her daddy for that matter. Poor baby has both her parents in jail at the same time, last thing she needs is to have to deal with my father. Outside of that, you can go to hell.” I wipe furiously at the tears on my cheeks. I don’t want him to construe them as sadness or weakness. They are pure rage.
I wave at Nick to come back in and when he does I stand. “You don’t let him come back, Nick. Don’t let him come see me anymore,” I say as I turn my back on Devin who still can’t seem to find the right words.
Nick looks equally baffled but he nods his agreement as he leads me out of the room and back toward my cell. I’ve had a lot of hurt in my life but this cut feels deeper, and it seems impossible to ever imagine it closing up.
Chapter Twelve
Jordan
I’m making progress. Or at least I think I am. Most of what I’m decoding right now seems like useless information, general notes about Brent’s autopsy. Page upon page of medical terminology. Things I’ve had to search so many times and all of them turn out to be nothing.
I’m distracted by the somber look on Click’s face and the pacing he’s been doing for the last two hours. I want to comfort him, to kiss him, but none of that feels appropriate right now, and I can tell it isn’t what he needs.
“Click, you have to take a break. Sit down before you wear a hole in that floor.”
“I can’t. I betrayed Devin and I’m not sure he’s going to forgive me for that. I’m not sure he’ll ever trust me again.” He runs his hand over the short stubbly hair of his brush cut and I can see his neck muscles tense. He looks like
he’s about to burst.
“You did the right thing. What I had figured out late last night saved me hours of work today. We’re ahead of the game and it’s because of you. I know you put a lot of stock in the orders you’re given. But you’ve got great instincts. Sometimes that means you have to make your own choices to help the people you care about.”
A car door slams shut in the driveway and Click hustles out of the room and down the stairs. My strained eyes need a break and an update, so I follow close behind him. My stomach sinks as Devin comes barreling into the house like a man on a warpath. He slams the door so hard a picture falls from the wall and smashes.
“Devin,” I say, furrowing my brows as I look up at him. “What is it?”
“I want that book. Now! I want that book. I’m burning it.” He charges past Click and then is face to face with me at the bottom of the stairs. I’m blocking him, keeping him from passing, though we both know he could make short work of me if he wanted to.
“Tell me what happened,” I say sternly, watching over Devin’s shoulder, as Click looks ready to leap at Devin if he touches me.
“That book ruined everything. It’s why I left here and went to New York. It’s gotten in my head. I want it gone and burned. I went there. I went to see Rebecca and I told her I could help her if she told me the truth. I said if it was self-defense we could get her out of it, but that I needed to know what happened.” He chokes on his words as he bows his head, defeated. “I want to burn that book. It can’t ever get in the wrong hands.” He takes another small step forward and I move up one stair so that I am nose to nose with him.
“Devin, we both know you could move me if you wanted to, but I intend to put up a fight which means you’ll likely hurt me. I don’t think you’re that guy.”
“Why? Why are you putting up a fight?” he screams as he slams his hand down on the banister, sending me jumping a bit.
“The same reason Click gave me that book. Because sometimes people are too close to things for their own good. Sometimes it’s too hard to see the right path and you have to depend on the people around you, the people who care about you, to help.”
“Give me a goddamned break, Jordan. We just met. You made it clear you didn’t like me when you got here, and you couldn’t give a shit about this place. You don’t care about me.”
“No, I don’t.” I watch his face twist in confusion. “I don’t know you well enough to care about you, to know if you are really a good man or not. You do things that make it hard to tell. But I care about people who care about you. If you think it’s possible to be around Adeline for even an hour and not want to save her world, you’re crazy. If you think you can sit around Rebecca’s table, lie in the bed she made for you, and not want to get her out of jail, you’re blind. And Click, he doesn’t make it hard to tell if he’s a good guy or not, and he cares about you. So right now that is enough for me. Figuring out the rest of that book is what needs to happen.”
In a fury he turns to storm out of the room but stops as if he’s suddenly run out of fuel. “She’s furious at me. I don’t understand.” He drops his arms to his side and it’s clear the rage has given way once again to grief. “All I know is it started with that book. Everything was fine before that.”
“Figure it out,” I say, putting my hand on his shoulder. “Fix this, get her out, and find a way to undo what you did.”
“I don’t even know what I did.” He nods an almost imperceptible acceptance of my words and continues out of the room.
“Devin,” Click says like a child speaking to an angry parent. It is an odd side of him, but I know it’s eating him up to have disappointed Devin, even if he knows he was right.
“Please don’t apologize, Click. I can’t handle you being a good person right now.”
“Would you prefer I return that sucker punch you gave me instead?” Click asks, and the corners of his mouth turn up slightly.
“Honestly, yes, but I’ve seen you throw a punch, and I don’t think I’d survive it.”
Click slaps Devin on the shoulder and I roll my eyes at how men handle tension. A punch, a couple jokes, and a slap on the back and everything is back to normal. I, on the other hand, and most of the women I know, quietly hold our anger for years if needed and then strike when no one suspects us.
“I got an update from Luke and Olivia,” Click tells him. “One of the girls who made the statement against Rebecca is a meth-head. The other is married to a dealer. I think Hoyle could be cooking meth out in those trailers, and he needs to keep people off the land. That seems to make the most sense. He’s using a couple people in his ring to get Rebecca put away for Brent’s murder—to try to strong arm you into closing things up and leaving him to his business.”
“So what do we do?” I ask them both, looking from one stone-faced man to the other.
“I’m not sure,” Click admits. “I talked to Nick a while ago and he said he took the information about the trailers to his boss and got nowhere. They are downplaying it, calling them squatters. They’re telling him it’s not worth their time. Now he’s questioning who he can trust in his office. He’s feeling like some people may have been compromised. That’s why we need to know what the book says and then call in someone else. The FBI? I’m not sure, but it has to be higher than this place, bigger than the reach here.”
“I’ll get the answer, Devin. I’m close. The more time I spend on the code the quicker it’s coming,” I say, not really sure how close I actually am, but trying to reassure him. I’m a ball-buster, I know that. Devin and I have had our moments of going toe to toe during our time together in Clover, but at the end of the day I want this resolved. I want to see them succeed. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be locked up for years for something you didn’t do and have the answer so close to your fingertips. It would be maddening.
“I’ll start working on a contact, someone we feel we can trust,” Click says. “There is no telling how deep this corruption could go. Especially if there are Marshals involved.”
“I want her back,” Devin says as I turn and head up the stairs.
I thought my life had been intense up until this point. I thought most of my days of turmoil were behind me, but I’m quickly finding out the more you let people in, the more of their troubles they bring with them. Even with that, though, I know there is nothing that would stop me from wanting to help. If my father were alive this might be the first thing I do that would make him proud. It wouldn’t be the promotions at work or the fancy city apartment. It would be how I help Clover and the people who live here.
Chapter Thirteen
Click
I don’t think anyone slept last night. I know Jordan and I barely did. Devin sure as hell looks like he hasn’t gotten a moment of rest. I’d imagine Rebecca wasn’t catching any sleep in her cell. Luke and Olivia were out all night; they just pulled in the driveway and I’m almost afraid to find out where they spent their time.
They come up the front steps in such a hurry I pull my weapon, worried someone might be following them.
“What is it?” Jordan asks, fear dancing at the corner of her eyes.
“Nothing. Just wondering why Luke and Olivia are sprinting up the walkway.”
They swing the door open and both are talking before they even bother to greet anyone.
“What, what is it?” I ask, putting my hands up to quiet them long enough for them to get their shit together.
“There are two Marshals at the trailer on the east side of the land,” Olivia reports breathlessly.
“Investigating it?” I ask.
“No, we got close, we were trying to hear if they were saying anything about the witnesses making statements against Rebecca. In the process we heard two Marshals on site talking about handling things if this play against Rebecca doesn’t work.”
“Wait a second,” I say, pointing accusingly at Olivia. “You disregarded an order to keep your distance from the trailers. And on top of that you took a
n unarmed civilian and put him in direct danger? What would have happened if they had seen you? If he’d been injured or killed?” I watch the blood drain from Olivia’s face. She clearly did not think this through. I don’t know what clouded her actions. Her record is exemplary and she’s often praised for clear execution of her orders. These are the moments I feel transported back to a war zone. All it takes is one slip-up, one careless mistake and people lose their lives. I’ve made those errors, I’ve slipped up, but watching someone make such a careless decision actually infuriates me.
“I’m sorry, sir. I know how critical it is to find information that might help expedite Rebecca’s release. I know time is of the essence. But with that said, I understand my mistake and can assure you it will never happen again. You are right, it was far too much risk.” Olivia is standing at attention now, her chin high, her face level and apologetic. I don’t care. She should be sorry, and if we were still enlisted, I’d be handing her a toothbrush to clean every car in the driveway right now. This is the type of recklessness that drives me to follow orders, to live within the rules so I can be sure people around me are not put in danger.
“Are you kidding me?” Luke asks, stepping between Olivia and me. “We just blew this case open. There are Marshals involved and Olivia and I can identify them. We have audio recordings and pictures. We have information that could put them away. And we know what they are planning. How are you going to shit on her for that?”
“She put you in danger. She’s your security detail. Her job is to limit the risk to your life, not increase it. I asked you both to find out more about the women involved, I didn’t ask you to dig into the possibility of a drug ring and federal corruption. If you had any military experience at all, Luke, you’d understand this. But you don’t. You’re a civilian.”
All My Heart (The Clover Series) Page 8
