Secrets of the Falls (Twelve Oaks Farm Book 3)

by Teresa Greene

  Davis ended his call and crossed his arms over his wide chest leaving them propped over his huge belly.

  Tate completely ignored Davis and glared at Robertson. “Sit down.”

  “I’d rather stand.”

  “Sit your ass down!” There was a lot more heat in Tate’s voice this time. Robertson shrugged his shoulders and took the chair across from him. Even though they had a mountain of evidence against him, he didn’t seem the least bit worried. Slumped in the chair, he had a cocky smile on his face.

  Tate asked, “Did you give Lacy Reynolds ecstasy?”

  As casually as possible he crossed his long legs at the knees. “No, I don’t know where she got the ecstasy.”

  Again Tate glanced at the file open in front of him. “So you admit Miss Reynolds was under the influence of ecstasy.”

  Robertson placed his hands in front of him palms up. “How can I deny it? She took the ecstasy and begged me to have sex with her. The woman was all over me.”

  Dylan could see the anger in Tate’s face. He fought that anger and continued, “Several witnesses saw you carry an unconscious Miss Reynolds upstairs.”

  Robertson’s smile grew. “Some women like to be carried. It was all part of the fantasy. Lacy is an old fashioned type of lady and we were role playing.” He leaned in and his smile grew. “Believe me, she was conscious. Have you seen Lacy Reynolds? I couldn’t turn down such a beauty. She came to the party ready to have sex. Short skirt, revealing shirt, she was looking for a good time.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I was just giving her what she asked for.”

  Dylan clenched his hands into fists. It took every effort of will he possessed to stand there and listen to Robertson’s bullshit. How he would love to beat the man to an inch of his life. The man acted like it was no more than a game. He wondered just how many other women he had taken advantage of in the same manner. If he had done the same thing to Tiffany Swift, he’d prove it. At the moment he was his main suspect for the murder.

  Tate looked down at the file on the table. “If the sex was consensual, why did you climb out the window when Michelle Maness and Dylan Bauer tried to gain entrance to the room?” His tone was clear and cold.

  “The possibility of an irate boyfriend. Bauer sounded extremely agitated when he ordered me to unlock the door. I got the feeling he was personally involved with Lacy. The pounding alone had me scared.” He cocked a brow. “Thought it was time to make a hasty retreat. You know the term, get out of Dodge.”

  Tate took the time to read Lacy’s statement before he replied, “Miss Reynolds swears someone put the ecstasy in her drink without her knowledge. She said you were the only person that came in contact with her cup. She swears your face was the last she saw before she collapsed. Remembers you touching her.”

  “She is lying. Another case of he said, she said. I swear what happened between us was consensual. Because she was caught by her best friend doing the nasty, she made up the story that I gave her ecstasy.” He opened his arms wide. “Look at me. Do I need to drug women to have sex with me? I’ve got women falling all over themselves to be with me.”

  “Take off your shirt.”

  Robertson looked at his attorney. Davis nodded his head in consent. He stood and pulled his shirt over his head. Scratches covered his chest where Lacy had tried to fight him. Even in her weakened state, she had been able to inflict some damage. She must have been so frightened when she realized what was happening to her.

  For the first time, Robertson’s lawyer spoke. “The scratches mean nothing. Lots of women get carried away during sex and scratch their lovers.”

  “But Robertson and Miss Reynolds were not lovers. The doctor’s report documented she is still a virgin. It’s hard for me to believe Miss Reynolds would wish to be drugged during her first sexual experience. Even harder to believe she had managed to keep her virginity at the ripe old age of twenty and then have a one night stand. Doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t think it will make much sense to a jury either.” Tate stood, placed both his palms on the table and snapped, “I think you’re lying. I think you get off on taking advantage of young women. Miss Reynolds told you no when you asked her for sex, so you drugged her. You are a low down dog.”

  “Prove it.” Robertson crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. Most men caved during Tate’s interrogations. Many a criminal collapsed in tears within an hour confessing their crimes. But then it was still early.

  “I plan to.” Tate stood up straight. “We have the bed sheet with your DNA. Witnesses saw you carry Miss Reynolds into the bedroom. Your skin was under Miss Reynolds’ fingernails. You are going down for the attempted rape of Lacy Reynolds.”

  The door swung open and a tall man with silver at his temples stepped into the room. “Let’s go, son. I’ve paid your bail and we are leaving.” His eyes stopped on Tate. “You don’t have to answer any more questions.” Wearing a designer suit, Robertson’s father looked like an important man. As tall as his son, he waited at the door. “From this moment on, any questions you might have for my son can be directed to Mr. Davis.”

  The three men walked out of the interrogation room leaving Tate alone. Rarely a man that showed his emotions, Tate kicked the chair across the room. Tate knew Josh was going to be mad as hell. He almost had to tie Josh to keep him from watching the interrogation. Tate feared he would attack Robertson. He didn’t want to be the person to tell Josh that Robertson was a free man. Since Lacy didn’t have a father, Josh and Grant had stepped into the role and both took it very seriously.

  Chapter Four

  Dinner was awkward. Everyone was afraid to ask Lacy questions or even attempt to have a conversation with her fearing they would upset her. It had been that way all day.

  After breakfast she had helped Grant plant collard greens. Lacy felt like Grant was brooding because she hadn’t heeded his advice about being cautious where drugs and alcohol were present. But then he could be worried about the publicity the attempted rape would generate. The media would be all over the story since Bret was the captain of the basketball team and the son of a wealthy businessman. Nina said the phone had been ringing off the hook as word got out about the incident. Reporters all wanted her statement. Some had even told Nina they would pay top dollar for Lacy’s version of what happened. Hopefully, the press would lose interest in a few days. The last thing she needed was to be hounded by reporters when she returned to school.

  Lacy was shoving her food around on her plate. She didn’t have much of an appetite. She couldn’t eat with her nerves bouncing around in her belly.

  “The psychic finally called me back.” All conversations stopped as everyone listened to what Grant had to say. “We scheduled two weeks from Saturday.”

  Lacy placed her fork by her plate. Grant had threatened to call a psychic to see if they could shed some light on how Hilda died. She had hoped it was an idle threat. “Are you sure you want a psychic getting involved?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. I just wish he could get here sooner. Who would’ve believed psychics were in such high demand.”

  Lacy was surprised Grant had gotten a male psychic. When she imagined psychics, she pictured a female wearing a long flowing dress, rings on every finger, and looking at a crystal ball to tell the future. Maybe she had watched too many old movies. She didn’t put much credence in psychics. She wished Grant would just let it go. “How do you know he’s on the level?”

  “I did my research. Richard Lewis has been in the media on several occasions for helping police solve some cold cases. I have to admit I’m intrigued. I watched a documentary of his amazing abilities. He holds something personal that had belonged to the victim and he gets visions.”

  Lacy puffed out her cheeks. “I just don’t feel comfortable knowing a stranger is going to be poking around in our lives. Hilda is my ghost. I should be the one to discover what happened to her and where she is buried.”

  “It’ll take some of the weight from around your neck t
o know what happened to her.” Grant said with some affection. “It is evident she’s not going to leave you alone until you discover how she died, or where her body is hidden. If anyone can solve the mystery, it’s Mr. Lewis.”

  Juan laughed. “For someone who didn’t believe in psychics, you sound pretty fascinated now. You really believe he’s going to be able to help?”

  “Maybe I’m grasping at straws, but I want to know what happened to Hilda as much as everybody else at this table.” His eyes moved over each person and stopped on Lacy. Face set, he added, “Without anyone getting hurt in the process.”

  Of course he was talking about the day she fell into the pool of water at the foot of the waterfall when she tried to climb to the top. Hilda had beckoned her to climb the falls. Something had to have happened to Hilda at the top of the waterfall.

  It was so out of character for Grant to hire a psychic. He was that worried about her welfare that he would do anything to protect her. The feeling made her warm inside.

  Maybe Mr. Lewis could shed some light on what happened to Hilda. Every night she had been home, Hilda came to see her. As usual she asked for her help. The bloody green dress, wet, coal black hair; nothing had changed since she was a child. At first Hilda scared her to death. Now she was so accustomed to her appearances, it was like a member of the family coming to visit.

  Juan asked, “Would you like to take a walk after dinner? We have about an hour before it gets dark.”

  “Sure.” She missed their usual banter. Everyone acted like they were walking on eggshells. Maybe she should go ahead and get everything out in the open. Their pity made her feel awkward. “I’m sorry I messed up. I should have been more careful.”

  Maria dabbed at her eyes with her napkin. “You do not deserve what happened to you, Lacy. You are so sweet and kind.”

  Lacy gave her a weak smile. “I’m okay. I would like for all of you to stop treating me like I’ll break. I’m not a China doll.”

  Grace stood. “Sounds good to me. You can help clear the table.”

  Lacy giggled. “That was quick.”

  Josh stated over everyone’s laughter, “Mom has always been tough on people. You won’t get any sympathy from her.”

  She pointed her finger at Josh and then Grant. “I had to be tough to keep you two in line after your father died. Hellions is what they were. I feared losing them as I did their father.” Gone was the feisty woman and a sense of sadness swept over everyone. There had been tragedy in her life and she picked up the pieces and kept going. She had no other choice since she had two teenage boys depending on her.

  Beth reached across the table and took Lacy’s hand into hers. “We love you. If you need to talk, please know that we are all here for you. Family pulls together at a time like this.”

  Family; the last few days she wouldn’t have survived without their support. Not once had they asked questions, but they had been there for her. “We’ve had enough trouble to last a life time. I apologize for causing more.”

  Nina snapped, “That’s enough. You had no idea Bret Robertson would put drugs in your drink. Look what happened because I dated a crazy man. Juan and I were kidnapped. Randal was almost successful in killing Grant and Josh. Sometimes there is no rhyme or reason for what happens to us. It’s the luck of the draw. How we handle it when something goes wrong in our life defines us. We survived Randal Collins, we’ll survive this.”

  Even though she knew Nina was right, she still felt guilty. She shuddered to think just how worse it would have been if she would have been raped by Bret. Could have been something she would never have gotten over.

  Juan took her plate and placed it in the sink with his. “Enough sadness. Let’s go for that walk. When we come back, we’ll play a game of Zombie Attack. It’s been a long time since I’ve humiliated you.”

  Lacy hated video games, but the distraction might be just what she needed. Watching Juan play was always entertaining. He screamed, screeched, wiggled, and squirmed all over the place during the game. Now that he was fourteen he should be growing out of the childish video games. But then Grant and Josh seemed to like the games and often played with Juan. Even they acted foolish when they had the controls in their hands. Maybe it was a male thing.

  The sun was low in the sky when Lacy and Juan started across the yard. The new foal, Scout was almost a month old. As soon as he saw them, he trotted to the gate and whickered. Drawn to the foal, Lacy opened the gate and rubbed his nose. Black as soot, Lacy thought he was a real beauty. She stroked her hand over the silver dollar size white spot on his nose. “He is amazing.”

  “Grace has spoiled him rotten. You’d think he was one of her children the way she makes over him.” Juan propped his arms on the top rung of the gate and watched her stroke Scout’s face. “She’s going to be devastated when Nina sells him.”

  After Josh was injured in the line of duty, Grace had moved to Twelve Oakes to be near her son as he recuperated. Grant and Nina asked her to stay and help on the farm. She fit right in and everyone loved her. “That’s the worst part of having a farm, getting attached to the animals and then having to say goodbye.” Many times when she was a child she would grow fond of animals and be devastated when her father would sell the animals. He would always explain that it was all part of being a farmer. Because of her innocence, she felt they should keep each and every animal as pets.

  “I have a feeling Grace will buy Scout. It’s doubtful he’ll ever leave the farm.”

  Lacy placed her face against Scout’s neck and breathed in his scent. Nothing smelled better than a horse. She missed riding. “You’re probably right.”

  Lacy was glad she came home for a few days to heal. No place meant more to her than her childhood home.

  ****

  After three days at home, Lacy felt she was ready to go back to school. It was obvious she had made enemies. Glares from some of the students made her nervous. Michelle had warned her that many students believed she was lying. Bret almost raped her, yet they were taking his side, treating her as if she did something wrong. Life wasn’t fair.

  Refusing to make eye contact, Lacy stared at the sidewalk and picked up her pace. It was a warm, sultry day for April and she felt sweat drip between her breasts to add to her discomfort. In the distance she saw a white van pull to the curb and a news crew opened the door and emerged. She detoured to the left but it did no good. The woman and camera man ran to catch up with her.

  “Miss Reynolds, Miss Reynolds, can we ask you a few questions?”

  Lacy kept walking picking up the pace. The last thing she wanted was to talk to some nosy reporter about Bret Robertson and what he did to her.

  The reporter moved to her side and jogged to keep up with her. Lacy glanced at her and recognized her from Channel Thirteen news, the local station. She had thick, shoulder length hair. Long legs easily kept up with her as Lacy hurried along the grass. “Please, Miss Reynolds, can we get your statement of the events of the night of the alleged rape?”

  Alleged rape thought Lacy. Had the woman not done her homework? She wasn’t raped. Bret attempted to rape her. There was a difference. “No comment.”

  Lacy saw Professor Barry Brown running toward her. He stepped between her and the reporter and snapped, “Miss Reynolds does not have a comment.” The camera man moved in front of Professor Brown and pointed the camera in Lacy’s face. He put his hand over her face and shouted, “Get that camera out of her face. What part of no comment don’t you understand? I’m calling security.” Taking her by the elbow, he led her toward the double doors of one of the buildings on campus. Behind her she could still hear the reporter shouting questions. Professor Brown opened the door and pushed her inside. She never looked back as she was herded into his office and shoved into a chair.

  “Are you okay?”

  No she wasn’t okay. She wondered if she would ever be okay. He opened the mini-refrigerator in his office and grabbed a bottle of water. He unscrewed the cap and held it out fo
r her. With trembling hands she grasped the bottle and took small sips. Her hands shook so bad water spilled down the front of her favorite blue blouse. “I’m okay.”

  Before he picked up the receiver of the phone on his desk, he handed her a Kleenex. She wiped the front of her blouse. “Security.”

  She listened as he explained what happened and ordered a guard to escort the news team off campus. It was the first time she had been in his office. A picture of his wife and three children sat on his desk among all the clutter of books and papers. Two of the children had brown hair the same shade as his. The other was blond like his wife. Various degrees and awards adorned the wall behind his chair. It was a masculine office void of anything bright and cheery but the pictures of his family.

  She looked at her watch. In five minutes her English Professor would lock the door. He didn’t tolerate tardiness. When she stood to leave, Professor Brown ordered, “Sit down. You’re in no condition to go to class.”

  Lacy tried to smile to reassure him. “I’m fine. Thank you so much for saving me from the reporter. They have been hounding me for a story. I can’t believe they had the audacity to approach me on campus.”

  “I’ll make sure they don’t bother you again.” She moved toward the door. “Wait and I’ll walk you to class.” He stepped around her and opened the door. “I’m sorry you’re going through this turmoil, Lacy. You don’t deserve to be treated so horribly.”

  Lacy liked Professor Brown. He had a big heart and it showed in his work. He was over their biomedical engineering program at Duke. He put in a lot of hours to make sure the program was a success in fitting veterans with artificial limbs. He handpicked his team and she was honored to be a part of the program.

  When they arrived at her classroom, he bent at the waist. “Safe and sound.”

  “Thank you, Professor Brown.”

  “I don’t know how many times I’m going to have to ask you to call me Barry.”

  She couldn’t bring herself to call one of her professors by their first name. Even though she had worked with him for the past year, she felt he deserved her respect.