Tainted Mind

by Schultz, Tamsen

  “I was going to make it look like he'd killed himself, succumbed to his PTSD and all that shit. Now, I guess I'll have to make it look like murder-suicide.”

  It was such a preposterous statement that it, more than anything, told Ian how far into his own mind Travis had gone. Making himself believe things that couldn't ever be true.

  “You know that's not how it's going to work, Travis.” Vivienne responded. “You've left enough DNA in this barn that you may as well post a neon sign proclaiming your guilt. Not to mention that you can't possibly believe I came here on my own.”

  “Vivienne,” Ian warned. With every word out her mouth, every word that reminded Travis of just how beneath him she was, Travis was raising his weapon higher and higher. But he paused when Ian spoke and his eyes darted down. With a clear head and a clear sight, Ian met and held his gaze. Vivienne's small gun was in his hand and Ian knew he had a clear shot, but he was also certain that if Travis was good enough to shoot the tire of his Jeep, he was good enough to get off at least one shot before Ian had the chance to fire.

  “Naomi has already placed you and Ian in real time in this barn together. I told Nick everything on my way here. He'll call Lucas and execute a search warrant on your home. What will they find? What trophies did you take from all those women, Travis?

  “Vivienne.” Ian's tone was short; Vivienne was going too far. Travis was clearly on the edge and Vivienne kept pushing.

  “Nothing,” Travis exploded. “They won't find anything. What would I want with them when I was done?” he demanded. “They weren't you. They were nothing but cheap imitations. Oh, for a moment, for one tiny moment, I could pretend they were you and everything was as it should be. But then I'd open my eyes and see them. See them for who they really were. Just little fakes, pretending to be you.”

  “And that made you angry.” Ian finally understood the dangerous game Vivienne was playing. Until this point, until she'd pushed him to this point, he hadn't actually admitted to doing anything other than to drug him. As a Ranger he hadn't needed to think about things like evidence and prosecution. As a seasoned law enforcement officer, Vivienne knew otherwise. Every bit of information they collected now would help build the case against Travis. Of course, if he ended up with a good lawyer, he'd plead insanity, but Ian knew Vivienne wasn't going to plan for that. She wanted evidence. She wanted a confession.

  “Of course it made me angry,” Travis erupted. “They weren't you. How could they possibly be you?” Suddenly Travis dropped his hand, and Ian watched as the man deflated in front of them. “How could anyone possibly compare to you, Vivi?”

  Ian knew the sad, lost look in Travis's eyes made Vivienne pause. He glanced up in her direction and saw her own sadness reflected in her eyes. This whole situation was almost more than she could handle. On top of everything else she'd gone through in this last year, she'd now been betrayed by someone she loved and told that she was the reason twenty-one women were dead. Ian wanted to reach out and hold her, pull her close to him, and take her away from it all. But with the gun in his good hand, he settled for wrapping the tips of his other fingers around her ankle. It was all he could do without risking alarming Travis.

  “And so you killed them. Because they weren't me,” she said quietly.

  Travis nodded.

  “You know it's all over now, right, Travis? I can't let you get away with killing all those women.”

  “I did it because of you, Vivi.”

  Vivienne stepped away from Ian. She moved toward Travis but stayed out of the line of fire. Not that Ian had ever had any doubt, but she was one cool customer—competent, in control, and calm.

  “Why don't you give me the gun and we can talk about it a little more?” She held out her hand as she took another step forward.

  “I don't want to talk about it anymore.”

  “Then we don't have to talk about it anymore. Just hand me the gun or toss it away and we'll both walk out of here.”

  Travis looked at the gun in his hand. Ian could feel his pulse in his throat—it definitely wasn't sluggish anymore. He'd been able to move himself into a better position and, at this point, felt confident that he could get a shot in before Travis, but he'd prefer not to. For Vivienne's sake.

  Slowly, Travis took the weapon in his other hand and made to hand it, butt-first, to Vivienne. Ian saw her let out a tiny sigh of relief as she took the last step forward and wrapped her hand around Travis's. Ian flicked his gaze to the other man's eyes and saw a look he recognized all too well.

  “Vivienne!” Ian called as a shot rang out.

  He leapt up and forward as Travis crumpled to the ground. Eyes wide with shock, Vivienne stood and watched, her hand still hanging in the air where moments before it had been holding Travis's.

  “Ian, I—” her voice a hoarse whisper. “Oh god.”

  He caught her as she lunged toward Travis. Despite everything, he was still the boy she'd known her whole life, still the man she considered family.

  “There's nothing you can do, Vivienne.” Ian held her back even as he became aware of Nick and his officers swarming into the barn.

  “I have to try, Ian. For Mary, his mom. I have to try.” Her eyes were wild, and he couldn't even begin to imagine what she was feeling at that moment. But he did know there was nothing she could do. Travis had all but blown the top of his head off with Ian's service revolver. He was dead before he hit the ground.

  “Vivienne.” Ian took her by the shoulders and forcibly turned her away from the body. “Vivienne, listen to me.” He waited until she stopped straining against him. “Trust me, honey, there is nothing you can do, and this isn't how you want to see him.”

  Her eyes searched his for a good long moment before her shoulders dropped from the weight of it all. “Oh god, Ian.” And the tears began to fall.

  “I know, Vivienne. I know.” He didn't know everything or anything of what she was feeling, not yet anyway. But he pulled her against him, knowing for certain that they would sort it all out, together.

  CHAPTER 31

  VIVI STOOD AND STARED at the pictures of the women whose lives Travis had ended—their names still written below their faces, along with the dates of their disappearances or, if known, their deaths.

  “Vivienne?”

  Ian stood in the doorway wearing jeans and a t-shirt rather than his uniform. He'd been checked out at Riverside and given a clean bill of health, despite having ingested a risky level of painkillers in the water Travis had given him. The only physical mark on him was his wrist that had been rubbed raw when he'd broken through the tape. Her eyes traveled to the bandage.

  “It's fine,” he said, stepping into the room. “How are you?”

  She lifted a shoulder. It wasn't a question she could answer now. “Did you call Lucas?”

  He nodded. “He's executing the search warrant on Travis's apartment today. He was also able to confirm that Travis often rented vans to cart around camera equipment as part of his scouting job.”

  “I chickened out and sent Naomi and Brian home to tell his parents, Mary and Josh, and the rest of the family.”

  Ian came to her side and stood, a solid presence in her life.

  “Jessica Akers,” she said, looking at the picture of the young woman. “I went to Haiti just before she was killed. Travis didn't want me to go. The earthquake had just happened, it was such a disaster.” She gave a small shake of her head remembering the destruction, the lives lost, and the people she had tried, but failed, to save.

  “Vivienne,” Ian said softly, telling her she didn't need to go on. But she did.

  “Rebecca Cole,” she said, touching the picture. “Travis was in Seattle when I had my meltdown. He wanted me to go back to Boston with him. I agreed, but when I woke up in the morning, I knew Boston wasn't where I was supposed to be. So I left him a note and took off to LA to see Kiera. He flew back to the east coast and, a few days later, Rebecca went missing.”

  She moved down the line. “These
three women,” she pointed to the three women from Boston who had all gone missing in a relatively short period of time. “I got engaged just before the first one went missing.”

  “Engaged?”

  She turned and smiled at Ian's tone. It was a heavy smile, but a smile. “For about a week. Actually, Travis was the one who made me realize that my fiancé was more interested in politics than me. My family isn't financially powerful, we're all working stiffs with the exception of Naomi and Brian's branch, but we've been around a long time and we're very well connected in both the Irish and Italian communities. Travis pointed it out, and we fought, but then I realized he was right and ended the relationship.”

  “And didn't take up with him,” Ian finished, explaining the rapid disappearance of the three women.

  “And this young girl,” Vivi moved to the front of the line. Their first victim. “This was the summer I lost my virginity. My family was vacationing in Maine. I met Aurelio, an Italian exchange student. He was older, and I spoke Italian, and it was one of those summer things. Brian and Travis overheard me and Naomi talking about it.”

  She stared at the photo for a long time before speaking again. “You know, a few days ago when Brian said Travis had a thing for me and I brushed him off saying he might have when we were ten? I've been thinking about our lives, and we were closer to fifteen when Travis got up the nerve to say something to me. Not ten. But we were practically family, Ian. It's not that I didn't take him seriously in general, but he was like all my other cousins, so I figured he was just messing with me.”

  “I don't think it would have mattered if you had taken him seriously, Vivienne. Do you think it would have changed things?”

  She looked at the photos and knew logically that a man capable of doing what Travis had done would have been triggered by something else at some point in his life if she hadn't been the trigger at fifteen. It might not have been the specific twenty-one women on the board, but it would have been others. Still, her heart wasn't ready to accept this.

  “He's a good shot, you know. That's how he got your tire. He didn't join the police like his dad, but he was brought up with guns and with shooting, like the rest of us. He used to laugh and say the skill gave him something to talk about at Hollywood parties.” Wanting to change the subject, needing to change the subject, she asked. “How is Meghan?”

  “She and Joe both woke up and are talking. They're stable and a full recovery is expected for both.”

  This was news, good news. “Ian, that's great. When did this happen?”

  “Just as we were leaving the hospital ourselves. If I had told you then, you would have wanted to stay. I thought we needed some time away. Marcus and Carly are there with her.”

  “Was it Schuyler?”

  Ian nodded. “He's the father of her child. Meghan didn't know that her instructor for the class she was taking in New York was Schuyler's wife. But when Schuyler saw Meghan at the class one day, he was convinced she was coming at him through his wife and was planning on blackmailing him or something.”

  “A child out of wedlock is hardly a cause for murder,” Vivi pointed out.

  “In his mind it is, especially given she was seventeen when she got pregnant and he was planning a run for office in the next state election. If she had come forward, which she said she never had any intention of doing, his aspirations and his reputation wouldn't have survived.”

  Power, love, or money. It always came down to one of those three. “And Joe?”

  “He came to class one day to meet his stepmother and found her chatting with Meghan about Windsor, about the coincidence of them both living there—if only part-time for Lilly. He says that when Meghan pulled out a picture of her son, Joe thought he was looking at a picture of himself at the same age. And when she said the father wasn't involved, he knew his dad well enough to want to look into it. And so he did.”

  “And how did he find out the truth?”

  “He didn't, but he suspected, and so he came up here to talk to her. He knew from his stepmother that Meghan was a struggling single mom and he told Marcus that if his father was the father of Meghan's child, he wanted her to have some help, financial help, from the family. He also admitted to hoping that, if it were true, he might be able to build a friendship with her and his half brother.”

  Ian paused for a moment, then let out a long breath and continued. “Joe didn't say he was starved for familial attention, but that was the sense Marcus got. His life with his father was so cold that it wasn't until his stepmom came along that he realized what a real family relationship could be. I think he hoped he might be that family for Meghan and her son.”

  Vivi sighed. “So he was just trying to help.”

  Ian nodded. “And then he heard about Meghan and found the handcuffs and the gun in the garage. He was coming to tell us about it when his father got ahold of him.”

  “They fought and he went to your house because it was less obvious than the police station and he probably thought his father would be looking for him there, or somewhere between their house and the station,” Vivi posited.

  Ian nodded again. “But we figure Schuyler must have followed him instead.”

  “And tried to kill his own son.” Vivi shuddered. So much violence in such a small town. “This is going to be hard on the town, Ian.”

  “I know. But right now I'm not thinking of the town, or the fact that Vic, the real Chief of Police, will be back in two days.” He reached out for her and she stepped into his arms. Wrapping her own arms around him, she rested her head against his chest.

  “It's not over by a long shot, Vivienne, but we got the bad guy. We'll turn over all the evidence and let the prosecutors do their thing. And we can begin to get on with our own lives.”

  For a long moment, they simply stood there in the upstairs room of the police department. Vivi could hear the birds outside the open window and the occasional sound of a car or voice of a passerby floated up from the street below. But most of all, she could hear Ian's heartbeat. She closed her eyes and savored it.

  “I'm staying, Ian,” she finally said. He hadn't asked, but she wanted him to know.

  He pulled back to look at her. “You're staying?”

  “Here, with you,” she clarified.

  “Here?” Ian paused, but she knew it wasn't because he didn't want her there. He wore an expression that told her she'd upended one of his plans and he was reassessing.

  “I know you want me to stay, Ian.”

  That snapped him out of it, and he braced her face between his hands. “God, yes, I want you to stay. I was just thinking that I would have to spend some time convincing you. I had all these arguments planned out about different ways we could make it work. I guess I don't need to use them now?”

  Vivi smiled and went up on her toes to touch her lips to his. “No, you don't. I haven't worked out the specifics of my jobs, but I'm not actually that concerned about it. I'll officially quit with the Boston PD, but I can still teach a day a week and I can still consult with the FBI. Maybe Sam will want me in the lab or something. I figure, we're two smart people, we can figure it out. We also have a dinner date we need to schedule with the governor,” she added with a grin, reminding him of that brief call so many days ago.

  Ian stared at her for a beat, then dipped his head and kissed her the way she needed to be kissed, a kiss that held all the emotion of what he felt for her and the promise of what was to come.

  When he pulled back, he traced his thumb down her cheek and smiled. “That's not much of a plan, Dr. DeMarco, but I definitely like it.”

  THE END

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  The only reason I am lucky enough to be able to write A Tainted Mind is because I have the support of so many great people. The entire Booktrope team, including my Book Manager, Sophie Weeks, deserves a big round of applause. In addition, my editor, Julie “Where's Rooster?” Molinari, gets big kudos for getting this book into shape from cover to cover. And seriously,
if you like Rooster, thank her.

  A lot has changed since The Puppeteer was released, not the least of which is that we have moved from the Puget Sound area to Northern California. While I'm glad to be back in my home state, we left behind an amazing group of friends who have brought, and will continue to bring, so much joy to my life. So here's to the families of Bridle Trails that I am honored to call my friends—your support over the years means the world to me. More special shout-outs go to Meghan for everything you've done to support me, including swapping closets, and to Cathy and Jenee for providing food, advice, feedback, and lots of good times (with more to come). And to Sarah (we'll always have our block), Lisa (we expect to see you in a month), and Jere (I'm sure Liam left his glasses at your house so I'll just have to come get them)— you know what you mean to me and I miss you all every day.

  And last but not least, to my mountain movers and my family—thanks for supporting and celebrating this life with me.

  PREVIEW OF

  THESE SORROWS WE SEE

  BY TAMSEN SCHULTZ

  SORROWS are something Matty Brooks knows a thing or two about. Having grown up in the projects of New York City, she's seen her fair share. But as an adult, and successful author, Matty is all too happy to leave that life far behind.

  SECRETS aren't something Dr. Dash Kent knows much about. As a small town vet with deep ties to his community of Windsor, New York, life has always been pretty straightforward. Until Matty Brooks comes to town.

  REDEMPTION is what Brad Brooks wants. As Matty's half brother, he's ashamed of how his family treated her — how they cast her out. But when the olive branch he extends turns deadly and Matty stumbles into Brad's biggest secret, she finds herself cast back into a world of violence and deceit. Now redemption is easy; survival is the hard part.

  CHAPTER 1

  MATTY BROOKS LET OUT a long-suffering sigh. It was loud enough for her friend on the other end of the cell phone to hear over the wind and noise created by Matty's new, sleek convertible. She was driving north on the Taconic State Parkway toward a small town called Windsor, a few hours upstate from New York City. She should have stayed in the city. Having been born and raised in urban areas—first New York, then DC—Matty was a city girl, by birth and by preference. But she hadn't stayed and she knew why—even if she didn't want to share that reason with her best friend. And so, opting to be obtuse, Matty answered the question Charlotte posed, if not the one she'd really been asking.