Record of Wrongs (Redemption County Book 1)

by Sharon Kay

  “Wanna let anyone know where you’re going?” He let the question hang there, hoping she read into his words.

  “Nice of you to ask,” she murmured. She glanced over at his truck. “I’m not worried about getting in your car with you, Cruz. You kinda proved yourself last night.”

  He soaked up the gratitude in her eyes, knowing he really didn’t deserve it. Maybe a sliver, but not whatever she must be feeling.

  “And yeah, I’ll tell Marvin what we’re doing. You met him, right?”

  Cruz nodded.

  “He has the best pair of bloodhounds in Redemption County. If you try anything—which you won’t—those dogs’ll find me. And then they’ll find you.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Christ, she was sunshine and attitude rolled into a girl he should stay away from. “Nice that you got folks watching out for you.”

  She jogged inside, and he fought not to stare at her ass in those shorts. She was so opposite of anyone he knew. This place was so opposite of anywhere he’d been.

  But that’s why he was here. New start, new town, new everything except his name. Which existed in dozens of articles on the internet. He idly wondered how long it would take before his past came to light. It wasn’t a secret, but also not something he announced to people he just met.

  Rosie came back out, smiling, bounce in her step. “Ready for a real, genuine country drive?”

  “Ready as ever.”

  “Lemme just move my car.” She slid into her silver compact Ford and moved it over to a parking area, then joined him at his truck. He opened the passenger door for her to hop in.

  He rounded the front of the truck and climbed in. “Where to, Rosie?”

  If Rosie could have imagined three different ways her Saturday may have gone, riding around the county in Cruz’s truck would never have been one of them. Not because she didn’t want to.

  But only because she never thought things would line up so well as to get to see him again so soon.

  She’d tossed and tuned all night, ninety-nine percent because of him. Those jerks he’d beat up had faded quickly from her memory. The scare of what might have happened dissipated beneath the image of him—dark, angry, unforgiving. Cruz dominated her thoughts. Everything about him, from his intense stare, to his concern, to the swift way he’d dispatched two men—bare handed—wow.

  And now, in the daylight, each sculpted muscle stood out on his arms. A gray T-shirt stretched across well-defined pecs and she could finally see that his eyes were a slate blue gray. Unusual. Stormy. Yet they still flickered with a twinkle of amusement at some of the things she said. Faded blue jeans fit his ass perfectly. She’d made sure to take a peek while she paid Marvin inside the station.

  “Turn left at the stop sign.” She pointed ahead. “Then we’ll take that road ‘til it ends. Well, it looks like it ends.”

  “And that’s where your secret ninja route begins.”

  She snickered. “Sure. Not too many secrets in Sundown, that’s for sure.”

  “You live in the town? Or out in one of these houses, like that one?” He nodded at a house surrounded by fields. “How does that work, anyway? If you live there, you work the land?”

  “No, not always. Most of these farms were bought up, and one person brings in a crew to plant, and detassle corn, and harvest—whatever needs doing. But they don’t own the house. Someone else does. It looks like all the property should be together, but it’s owned by separate individuals.”

  “Huh. So all of a sudden it might be harvest day and you get woken up to a tractor outside your bedroom window?”

  “Pretty much.” She peered at a familiar blue Honda coming toward them. “Oh—there’s Brenda. Wave!”

  Cruz obliged, and shot her a puzzled glance. “Never saw that before I got here. Why does everyone do that?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I grew up with people doing it. I just figured people were nice.”

  “Yeah sure, it’s nice. It’s just different.”

  “I imagine a lot different from Chicago,” she said. “I’ve never been there.”

  “Really?”

  “Nope. What’s it like?”

  He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “It’s….”

  “Big? Loud?”

  “I was gonna say, there’s good parts and bad parts. It’s a mix. A melting pot. You got Chinatown and Michigan Avenue. You got homeless people and billionaires. Parts are amazing. And some parts are best to stay away from.”

  A shadow crossed his face and something unsaid hung in the air. Awareness prickled over her skin, that he knew those unsafe places. Maybe better than he wished. Where had he been? What had he seen? But she didn’t push. She barely knew him, and that stuff was personal. Maybe she’d get to ask him later. She hoped.

  For now, she decided a subject change was a good idea. “So, the big melting pot is behind you. Why did you choose Sundown?”

  He dropped one hand to the center console, giving her a good view of the black ink on his arm. No color to speak of. Why? What about the rest of his tattoos? “Why here?” He gave a short chuckle. “You’re gonna laugh.”

  “No I won’t. I want to know. I…I’m glad you’re here.” The words slipped from her lips before she could stop them. Whoops. Damn it. But it was too late to take them back.

  He grinned, revealing a dimple in his cheek. “Yeah?”

  “Um…yeah.” She flushed. Doubly admitted it. “I mean, I hope that didn’t sound, um…”

  “I’m glad to be here. But you’ll laugh because…” He shook his head. “Nah, it’s too dumb.”

  She made a feminine playful gasp. “Tell me!”

  “All right.” His fingers flexed on the console. “I wanted to move somewhere new and different. Get a fresh start. See a different part of the country. But all I knew was the city. I guessed the country had cows and stuff. But it all looked the same on the computer screen. So…” he paused. “I threw a dart at a map.”

  “What?” Her jaw dropped. Who does that? “For real. A dart?”

  “Yep.”

  “And it landed on Sundown, Illinois.”

  “Yep.”

  The stars must have aligned. Someone up above must be looking out for her. That was the most random thing she’d ever heard of anyone doing with their life. Yeah, she’d heard of people traveling, backpacking through Europe, going where they wanted…but she’d never met anyone who ever actually packed up and moved to a completely new place.

  “Well?” he asked.

  I want to find that dart and put it in a display case. But that would sound insane. “That is the craziest thing I ever heard, Cruz….” She paused. “What’s your last name?”

  “Zaffino. Yours?”

  “Marlow. Guess we shoulda mentioned those details sooner.”

  “Hey, we’re still in our first twenty-four hours of knowing each other. Think we get a pass.”

  “True. So, Cruz Zaffino, throwing a dart to determine where you’ll live is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “But you’re not laughing.”

  “Nope. Because it’s kinda brave and awesome too. Oh—turn here.” She pointed to the right.

  “This’d be the unmarked road, I take it?” He steered the truck onto a road barely wide enough for two cars. If anyone else came this way, one of them would have to pull to the side.

  “Yeah. This is where you need a guide.”

  “All righty then. I’m officially at your mercy.”

  She chuckled. “So, back to names…”

  She swore he stiffened for a second, then his laid back demeanor returned. Maybe she’d imagined it.

  “What about them?”

  “Are you named after someone? I’ve never heard of Cruz for a first name.”

  “Ah, that.” He nodded. “I’m so used to it, I fo
rget not everyone knows it’s a nickname. My mom named me Christian.”

  “That’s a nice name. How’d it turn into Cruz?”

  “My friends in school. They just ran my first and last names together. Now almost everyone calls me that, except my mom and grandma. My sister calls me Christian if she’s pissed at me.”

  They drove through soybean fields, where tiny shoots grew for acres around. Josh Turner’s deep voice carried from the radio, crooning about a hometown girl who’d lived all her life in the same place. Well, that fit her perfectly, and only highlighted the differences between her and Cruz. Though if he’d lived all his life in the city, that counted as the same place.

  Just one that was exponentially bigger than hers.

  Rosie turned in her seat so she was sitting diagonally, angled toward Cruz. His forearm had that word she couldn’t make out, and his bicep had a dark, pointed line peeking from below his T-shirt sleeve. “So, have you lived in the city all your life? College too?”

  He shook his head. “Never went. High school was it for me. How about you?”

  “Well, I’ve lived here all my life, like I said. I started college over in Graysville, but…” This was where things got awkward. But he had no idea. It was only weird for her. How do you explain something that’s too complicated to even start? “Dropped out.”

  “Oh. Not for you?”

  “Um…” She stared, unfocused at the endless green around them.

  “Sorry. You don’t have to say,” he offered, misreading her silence. “Not really any of my business.”

  “No, it’s fine, it’s just that I haven’t had to tell anyone in so long. Everyone in Sundown knows me and knows…” She swallowed. Give him the cliff notes version. “I was in a bad car wreck when I was twenty-one. My recovery took several months and I stopped going to class. And I just never went back.”

  “Jesus. I’m sorry.” He shot a quick glance at her. “You okay now?”

  “Yeah.” Hell no, she wasn’t. But that was her secret, her cross to bear. It was the one thing no one else in Sundown knew. Not even her brother.

  Chapter 5

  Shane Marlow cruised down the one main thoroughfare of Sundown, named appropriately, Main Street. He had weekends off, unless the Redemption County courthouse had a trial going on that spilled over to a Saturday. And most judges didn’t want to come in on the weekend.

  Beside him in the passenger seat of his patrol SUV sat his partner, Denver. Technically, the German shepherd was recommended to be in a kennel in the back. But neither of them liked that idea, and Denver was the best-trained dog in the county. Shane wasn’t worried about him charging out as soon as the door opened.

  He passed the sole gas station in the town and spotted his sister’s car parked next to the building. He hadn’t talked to her in a day or so. Deciding to say hi, he swung the car into the lot and parked next to her.

  He exited the car. Denver stayed put until Shane opened the passenger door. With a fluid leap, he bounded to the pavement, and they headed inside.

  Marvin was seated at the counter, watching the baseball game on a tiny TV. “Hey, Shane, good to see ya. Hey, Denver.”

  “Hi, Marvin.” Shane glanced around the empty store. Was Rosie in the bathroom?

  “What brings you in? Need gas?” The deputies got to fill up their cars at a discreet, out of the way pump on the courthouse complex grounds. But if he ever ran low, Marvin insisted on supplying him for free.

  “Nah, I was gonna say hi to Rosie. Her car’s out front.” Shane nodded toward the front windows.

  “Oh, she ain’t here,” Marvin said. “She and the new guy went to the DMV in Marmion.”

  “What?” Shane’s attention snapped to Marvin. “What new guy?”

  “You ain’t seen him? Tall, tattoos all over his arms, just moved here. Palmer hired ‘im.”

  “No, I haven’t seen him. What’s his name?”

  “Ah shoot. I’m so bad with names. It’s….” Marvin scrunched up his face. “Chris? Dang it. Can’t remember.”

  Shane paced the small space in front of the counter. “Rosie went somewhere with some guy who just moved to town? They go in his car? How does she know him?” Shane tried, really tried to not be crazy overprotective of his younger sister. But damn it. A stranger? He took a deep breath, then another. She’s a grown woman.

  “Yup. Took his truck. They was chatting fer a bit afore they left. She came in to tell me where she was goin’.”

  “Great,” Shane muttered.

  “I know I ain’t talked to him for more’ en five minutes. But he came in here a week ago, and today, and both times he been real polite. Not all folks are.”

  Shane grunted a reply and pulled out his phone. He opened the favorites page in his contacts and pressed her number, only to hear four unanswered rings. Her cheerful voice message greeted him after that. Shit. He clenched and unclenched his fists. Even though they were way past him vetting anyone she wanted to date, he couldn’t help it. He’d almost lost her once.

  “I just worry about her, ya know?” He set his hands on his hips. Denver, very familiar with Marvin’s place, sat down in front of a beef jerky-filled endcap and turned big brown eyes on him. Smart dog, and it was his dinnertime. But Shane wasn’t ready to go home just yet. “You got footage I can check?”

  “Yup.” Marvin fiddled with his computer, rewinding the display of four square black and white images above him. There was Rosie, chatting away with… damn—a guy he’d never seen before.

  “That his truck?” Shane pointed to the black pickup parked at another pump.

  “Yep.”

  “Can you zoom in on the plate?”

  Marvin did, and Shane grabbed a piece of paper and pen near the cash register. “Got it. Thanks.”

  Marvin reset his camera feeds. “You’re a good brother and I know you two are close. But…” he turned to Shane, “she ain’t a kid no more.”

  “I know.” Shane couldn’t object, Marvin’s words made sense. And some people would say he was going way overboard. “It’s just—I need to find out more about this guy who she decided to give a solo tour of the county to. For my own piece of mind.” He blew out a breath. “She’s my only sister.”

  “I know. Just, sometimes you gotta give sisters some space. Lord knows. I got three of ‘em. Ain’t gonna listen to what they don’t wanna hear.”

  “That’s why I need to check this guy out.” Shane pocketed the note. “Thanks, Marvin.” He turned to his dog. “Denver.”

  The dog jumped to his feet, tail wagging, and they left the little store. Shane opened his car door and Denver leaped in. “All right, boy. In two minutes we’ll find out exactly who your Aunt Rosie is hanging out with today. And you’ll get dinner.”

  Denver panted happily as Shane cranked the engine and guided the SUV through the handful of blocks to his house. Shane flexed his hands on the steering wheel, torn. He probably shouldn’t look up this dude’s plate. But that thread of logic warred with a need to know who in the hell this guy was. Rosie was smart, but trusting. Her body had fully healed after her accident. But something inside her was different. Sadder.

  Shane couldn’t blame her. He’d been through his own hell in Kirkuk. And maybe that was why he had a borderline-crazy case of brotherly protectiveness.

  Reaching his driveway, he shut off the SUV and opened the doors. He made sure to grab the laptop from the console and they hustled into the gray two-story, where Denver immediately beelined for the small kitchen and paced. The dog was so big, he nearly stretched from one end of the room to the other if you counted that tail. With practiced speed, he filled Denver’s food and water dishes.

  He pulled the piece of paper from his pocket, where it nestled next to his phone. He could call Rosie again. But if he asked if she was okay she’d tell him to chill.

  Hell. He stalked to a tab
le in the tiny dining room, which was piled with papers, mail, chargers, and a printer. He sure as hell wasn’t going to use that room for its intended purpose. Opening the laptop, he pulled up the state site that his department used to access license plate data and typed in the string of numbers from Marvin’s.

  It took two seconds for the screen to display the owner.

  One second for Shane to scan the name and details.

  Christian Zaffino. A Chicago address. Made sense that even if he had updated at the DMV today, the data base might not update until Monday.

  Next Shane clicked over to a search engine and typed in the guy’s name.

  Holy fucking shit.

  Shane choked out a half curse, half cough. His breath left his lungs as a growl built in his chest. “Mother fucker!” he shouted.

  The entire first screen of his search was full of articles with similar headlines:

  Murder conviction overturned in Cook County.

  Man, wrongfully convicted, leaves prison after ten years.

  Zaffino freed, always maintained innocence

  Witness recants to overturn Zaffino conviction

  It went on and on. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Shane breathed through clenched teeth. Wrongful conviction? Ten years in maximum security?

  And Rosie was alone with this guy?

  “Witness recanted,” Shane muttered, and forced himself to open an article from the Chicago Tribune. He scanned it, devouring the details like Denver had just devoured his dinner. Ten years ago Zaffino was convicted of murder. Three months ago a witness came forward to say he’d lied in the trial. He’d been the only one to place Zaffino at the scene.

  “Holy shit.” He couldn’t wait another minute. He printed the article and dialed Rosie’s number.

  Rosie couldn’t contain her giggle as she and Cruz left the drivers’ services building. “Did you hear yourself back there? You’ve only been here a week and you already sound just like you grew up here.”

  “Nah.” Cruz shoved his hands in his pockets. “Just ‘cause I said ma’am a few times…”

  “Yes ma’am. I reckon it’ll be nice weather all weekend, ma’am. Why sure I’ll squash that wasp that got inside the building, ma’am,” Rosie imitated him, exaggerating.