The Ivy Nash Thrillers: Books 1-3: Redemption Thriller Series 7-9 (Redemption Thriller Series Box Set)

by John W. Mefford

  “That kind of detail she wouldn’t get into. Or maybe she doesn’t know. We have to remember that she’s trying to build a case, so she isn’t going to show all of her cards.”

  “Does this assistant DA, uh, Ronda, not understand what this perverted pig did to Cristina? At the very least this is obviously self-defense.”

  “You said Cristina denied killing him, right?”

  I rubbed my eyes. “She did, and I believe her. I need to talk to her, to find out what actually happened. I’m sure she can clear this up. When can we see her?”

  Our attention was momentarily diverted when a door opened from a courtroom off to my right and a crying toddler was pulled from a woman’s arms by a bailiff. He handed the wailing kid to a well-dressed couple. I was certain they were a foster family brought in to care for a child who’d been neglected by her mother. I’d witnessed that exact scenario so many times in my years with CPS. It was still difficult to watch, even without being closely involved like I had been with the agency.

  Saul turned to face me. “Before I get into when and how we can see Cristina, Ronda did let me know that she has other evidence that connects Cristina to the crime scene.”

  “What could she have?”

  “Hair and blood. It will take a couple of days to process, but she said it’s rather obvious that the hair came from someone with long, dark hair.”

  I looked away, recalling Cristina’s story about how she got her black eye and the scratches on her face.

  “You okay?” Saul touched my elbow.

  “I…I just don’t understand why Cristina wouldn’t have told me about whatever had happened that night. Or even the authorities?”

  Saul pulled his phone out of his coat pocket and scanned the screen. “It’s Ross. Says he can recommend a low-cost attorney.” He looked up at me. “Sorry I don’t have my license, or I would represent her.”

  “When I left Z with Emma earlier, she told me not to worry about that. She has a few contacts and said she would find us an attorney.”

  “Us?

  “I mean, Cristina. Cut me a break, okay?”

  “Hey, I didn’t mean anything,” he said. “I can see how upset you are. I’m upset and shocked myself.”

  “But you don’t get it, Saul. When I first met Cristina, she had suffered in the worst ways in her young life, but I thought—I hoped—that she hadn’t committed a felony or done anything that would be held against her forever. Now, see what’s happened?”

  “You really thought when you met Cristina that she could harm someone?”

  I swallowed a lump in my throat, as my childhood came screaming back at me. “I’ve been there, where you’re bitter and frustrated with the world, wondering if there’s anyone left who has a heart. When you’re a teenager, you take all of that pain, mix it with raw emotion and hormones, and a lot of thoughts go through your mind. And they’re not all pure. It’s not easy to do the right thing when you’ve never had a good example. I mean, you kind of know there’s a right and a wrong, but everything you’re going through blurs those lines.” I was breathing heavier the more I talked. “I’m worried, Saul. She can’t go to jail. I can’t have her go to jail.”

  “But worry is your middle name.” He chuckled, but quickly saw I didn’t reciprocate, and he lost his smile.

  “Hey, I’m sorry,” he said. “I hate seeing you this way. I’ll do everything I can to support you and Cristina.”

  I clamped my eyes shut for a moment, trying to halt the flood of emotion. “She’s been in jail overnight. I just want to get her out. We can do that, right? They should grant her bail, and then she can go.”

  “As much as we want her out now, every county operates at their own speed. They haven’t yet filed formal charges.”

  “What?”

  “It’s okay. They’ll likely do that this morning, and hopefully by the end of today we’ll understand the terms of bail. It will take a fair amount of money, I’m guessing.”

  “How much?”

  “Five figures.”

  Neither I nor ECHO had those types of funds. I had to hope Zahera would step up. My mind went back to the night that Jesse was killed. “Did Ronda share with you how that disgusting excuse for a human being actually died?”

  “Bludgeoned to death by a rock. His face was unrecognizable. The rage that the killer showed, Ronda said, is the main reason she’s going to ensure Cristina serves a lot of prison time.”

  Tears welled in my eyes as I took in deep breath after deep breath. The man who had destroyed her life when he was living might ruin her life even when he was dead.

  But did she actually kill Jesse?

  “Give me a minute,” I told Saul. I walked into the bathroom and threw up.

  28

  The scent of honey wafted past me. I sniffed, knowing all too well it had to be some high-dollar cream or perfume from Zahera standing directly to my left. But I refused to shift my gaze away from Zeke, only three feet in front of me in the foyer.

  “What did you just say?” I asked, heat rising in my neck and face. I was pissed.

  “I said that Mr. Burchfield would never allow a murderer in his home, especially not to take care of his daughter. To think otherwise would be insanity.”

  The man with the James Bond chin and magnetic eyes had just learned of the plans for Cristina to come back to the mansion after being released on a hundred-thousand-dollar bail. Zahera had paid the customary ten percent, knowing she would lose it if, for whatever reason, Cristina didn’t appear at her next court hearing. Zahera would have paid the bail money anyway, but she felt extra guilty because the lawyer she had contacted never showed up at the Bexar County DA’s office. With time running out on the day, I had called Saul, who begged and pleaded with his boss, Herbert Ross, to temporarily stand in as Cristina’s attorney. When I saw Ross waltz into the courthouse, I’d literally thought I was imagining it. I must have thanked him a dozen times. He was nonchalant, if not rude, in his response. “Eh, it only means that I’ll be late to my cigar party. But hey, I don’t mind helping the other half every once in a while.” I had bit my tongue until it bled, somehow finding the willpower to not fire back with a few choice words of my own.

  “Ivy, your face is red as hell. You okay?”

  Too riled up to respond to Zahera, I let out a breath, keeping my sights on Zeke. “If you want insanity, I’ll show you insanity.” I shifted my weight to my toes.

  He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Hey, you can’t talk to my friend that way. I don’t care how much you resemble a young Daniel Craig,” Zahera shouted, then covered her mouth like a little kid who’d just said her first curse word in front of her parents.

  “That’s okay, Z. I can fight my own battles.” I could feel a line of perspiration down the center of my back. I paused for a second, allowing my brain to process what I was about to say, feeling grateful that Emma was out of earshot. She was outside with Squash. “Perhaps you’re suffering from amnesia. Have you forgotten that your own boss has been charged with a felony…sexual assault of a minor?”

  “That’s irrelevant.”

  “Because he’s got money and influence? You’re full of shit.”

  “No, because he’s innocent, pure and simple.”

  Pure and simple, my ass. While everyone else seemed to be under Dillon’s spell, in my mind his innocence was still in question. Hell, Stan and Nick said they had a video showing Dillon slipping something into the victim’s drink.

  I pressed my lips together, and for the second time in the last five hours, I was able to suppress the words I really wanted to say. “That’s for someone else to decide, not you or me,” I said, poking my chest just because I couldn’t poke his.

  “I doubt it will get to trial, but if they waste taxpayer’s money, then he’ll be found innocent in front of a jury of his peers.”

  Peers? There weren’t twelve people of Dillon’s status in the entire state.

&nbs
p; Stay on topic, Ivy. This guy’s winning the argument to keep Cristina out of the house.

  “If that’s what you think, Zeke, that’s fine. But Cristina is coming into this house and staying here as long as I’m here, whether that’s one day or one week.”

  “You think you make the final call?” He patted his holster.

  “Oh hell no you didn’t!” Zahera jumped in front of me with flames shooting from her mouth. “You didn’t just pat your little six-shooter to intimidate her, did you? Tell me you didn’t.” She rolled up the sleeves of her silk shirt. I tried getting around her to give Zeke my take on his little stunt, but her feet were anchored to the hardwoods.

  “Calm down, ladies. It’s just a silly habit of mine,” he said, scrunching his shoulders. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  Zahera shook her head and stepped to the side. “And I thought we had—” She stopped herself and walked to the stairs, keeping her back to us.

  “So, it’s settled,” I said. “She stays here.”

  “Why are you so convinced she didn’t do it, Ivy?”

  My method of declaring the issue resolved and hoping he’d just agree to it was not working.

  He continued. “Your judgment is way off. You’re blind. Someone needs to think straight around here, and I guess that has to be me.”

  A wave of heat rushed up my neck. I lifted a finger as the front door swung open behind me. I turned to see Cristina with one foot in the door. Zahera, Zeke, and I just stared for a few seconds.

  “Do I smell like that nasty jail cell or something?”

  Saul walked around her. “Oh, they’re just excited to see you. Come on, guys. Give her a hug.”

  I walked over and took her into my arms. Zahera was right behind me, and she hugged both of us.

  “The three amigas are back together,” Saul said.

  “I…can’t…breathe.” Cristina wedged her body out from my hold. “Are you crying?”

  “What? No.” I wiped underneath my eyes. “It’s just makeup.”

  “You’re wearing makeup?” Cristina smiled. It warmed my heart.

  “Ivy?” Zeke tapped his shoe on the floor. But it was his judgmental tone that spoke volumes.

  I could see Saul’s eyes move from Zeke over to me. “Everything okay here?”

  “Oh, we’re fine,” Zahera said with fake cheerfulness.

  I knew we couldn’t keep playing this game, not until everything was out on the table. I turned so Zeke could see me, and then I looked back at Cristina, who suddenly looked timid.

  I said, “Cristina, why don’t you take a shower, get some good food in you? Then we need to sit down and talk this out. You cool with that?”

  She blew out a breath. “I’m just looking for someone, anyone to believe me.”

  She weaved through us and marched up the stairs. With Zeke hovering like a vulture and her innocence hanging in the balance, I knew her moment of truth was only minutes away.

  29

  It had taken no more than five minutes of rubbing her back before Emma drifted off to sleep.

  With the calming purr of Emma’s breathing filling the room, I pulled the covers up to her chin and backpedaled to her door. I took hold of the doorknob, glancing at the glow-in-the dark stars affixed to her ceiling. Then I backed out into the hallway and slowly started to close the door.

  The darn thing creaked, and she immediately rustled and groaned in her bed.

  “It’s okay. You can go back to sleep,” I whispered.

  She smacked her lips, turning on her side. I pulled the door closed another few inches, but she halted my progress.

  “Can you read me one more story, please?”

  I was itching to get downstairs, to finally hear Cristina tell her story about what happened with Jesse. But I knew Emma was parentless right now. Something she couldn’t control. I had to do my part in making sure she didn’t feel completely abandoned.

  “How about I read you my favorite?”

  “Okay.” She sat up in bed, brushing brown curls out of her face. “Which one is your favorite?”

  “How about Walter the Farting Dog?”

  She giggled, while sticking her hand over her mouth. She didn’t know it, but with her fingers spread apart, it wasn’t suppressing her giggle one bit.

  I pulled the book off her shelf that contained about five hundred books and slid up next to her bed. “I’ll read, but you have to lie down.”

  She dropped straight back, bouncing off the mattress. I held up the book so she could see the pictures as I used different voices for each character. She laughed, asked questions, and laughed some more. I shut the book when I’d finished and kissed her forehead.

  “One more?”

  “That’s all for tonight, Emma. You need your sleep,” I said, standing up.

  “Okay.” She moved her covers up to her chest. “Ivy Nash, do you know if my mommy is safe?”

  The question caught me off guard. Or was it the use of the word safe? She hadn’t mentioned her mom once in the few days I’d been around her. I had figured the trauma of the kidnapping and Dillon’s loving guidance had helped her understand that her mom wasn’t coming home any time soon—or ever.

  “Your mother is sick, Emma, but she’s in a place that will help her get better.” Even as I said the words, Pudge’s description of Cheryl possibly being held against her will at the rehab center moved to the front of my mind.

  “I just want her to be okay. To feel better. She seemed sad before.” Her lower lip popped out and started to tremble.

  I took her hand in mine and squeezed it gently. “You know how sometimes being a kid isn’t very easy? You know those days when you seem to get in trouble a lot, or you trip and fall down and skin your knee?”

  “Uh-huh.” She nodded her head with wide eyes. She seemed to understand that part.

  “Well, adults go through bad days too. We might be older, but we’re human, which means we all make mistakes.”

  She ran her fingers along the wall.

  “Do you miss your mommy?” I asked in a gentle whisper.

  She swallowed, paused a second, and then nodded. “Daddy said if I keep thinking happy thoughts that Mommy will know I’m thinking about her. Is that twue?”

  “It certainly is. Now how about you get some sleep?”

  “I’m going to have dweams about Mommy all night. And when it’s day again, then I bet she’ll feel a wot better. Maybe she’ll get to come home soon, and we can go back to normal again.”

  I had always wondered what normal was as a kid, and even though Emma was looking for affirmation, I still felt the same way, especially in this house. “I hope you dream lots of happy thoughts.”

  I pretended to grab her nose. She let out a soft giggle and then turned on her side and closed her eyes. I made my second attempt to leave the room.

  “Ivy Nash?”

  “Yes, Emma,” I said from the door.

  “I love you.”

  My body was immediately blasted with a spray of emotions. I’d so rarely heard those words spoken to me. “I love you too, sweetie. Sleep tight.”

  I shut the door and swallowed, a sob building in my throat. Then I headed downstairs to figure out if my friend and partner had committed murder.

  30

  At one end of the massive kitchen, Zeke drank coffee from a mug as he read something on his phone, his eyes occasionally glancing upward to scan the back property through the windows. About sixty feet away at the other end, Cristina was bickering with Zahera. Saul had to head home to study for an upcoming test. He asked me to fill him in tomorrow on our conversation with Cristina. As I stood at the threshold coming in from the hallway, I could see my ECHO employee shaking her head, turning her palms to the ceiling.

  “Everything okay?” I asked, walking to the island and pulling a glass from a cabinet. Before they could respond, I added, “Anyone want a drink?”

  “No thanks,” Cristina said, rubbing her face. “I had lots of ice water wi
th the leftover lasagna.”

  “Z?”

  A quick shake of her head. “Cristina doesn’t want to talk in front of Agent 007.”

  “I don’t blame her. He’s kind of an ass.”

  “It’s not that,” Cristina said. “I just feel like I’m being judged…again. I want to tell you guys everything. Like I said earlier, I need you to believe me.”

  “I can be your greatest advocate.” The words came from Zeke, who was smiling, his eyes practically closed, as if in some sort of Zen-like state. Then he popped them open again, and said, “Seriously, I don’t have any ulterior motive, other than ensuring Emma is safe. Convince me, and you can convince any prosecutor or jury.”

  I turned to Cristina. “He’s got a point.”

  “Okay already.” She blew by me, marching toward the kitchen table at the far end. She sat down, curled her legs up under her. I poured myself some lemonade, then we all joined her at the table in an awkward silence. I think we were all wondering who would start the conversation.

  “Okay, I give,” Zahera said, propping her elbows on the wooden table. “Cristina, as painful as this might be, can you tell us what happened during your confrontation with Jesse?”

  Cristina pressed her lips together, moving her eyes from Zahera to me. She appeared to avoid looking at Zeke, who sat at the other end of the long table, legs crossed, sipping his coffee.

  “I was such an idiot to believe it was my mom who had texted me. You remember that, right, Ivy?”

  I nodded. Cristina pulled her legs against her chest, her blinking eyes searching for something, maybe answers, on the table.

  “Well, I decided to do it, to meet up with Mom. But I didn’t want to overthink it, so that’s why I didn’t tell you, Ivy.” She looked at me with pitiful eyes. “Anyway, I got to the school and didn’t know where she was. And then I recalled this time when I was a kid and I was running in a race and she was at the finish line waiting on me. It was behind the school, by the far backstop. That’s when I just knew it was her and she was waiting on me…that she’d finally broken free from the drugs…and the drug of Jesse.”