Edge of Darkness

by Karen Rose

  Shane nodded slowly. “Yeah. That sounds about right.”

  Good. At least he was gaining the kid’s trust. Adam wondered if Shane was even aware that he held Meredith’s hand so tightly. It had to be uncomfortable for Meredith, maybe even hurting her. But she hadn’t flinched, so Adam didn’t make an issue of it. “Where was the foster home and when did the rape and murder occur?” he asked.

  Hate flickered in Shane’s wet eyes, his hands clenching reflexively on Meredith’s. “Indianapolis,” he spat. “It will be three years on June twentieth. The rapist was Cody Walton.”

  “If Andy wasn’t charged for the crime, was someone else?” Isenberg asked.

  Shane nodded. “The fucker’s wife,” he said with grim satisfaction. Meredith opened her mouth, then closed it purposefully. But Shane saw and his lip curled. “You’re worried that I’m not sorry that an innocent woman went to jail. I’m not. The day that the cops took Andy away in cuffs, she turned on Linnie. Blamed Linnie for ‘seducing her husband.’” The young man’s mouth twisted in bitter rage. “But she knew. She knew what her husband had done. Over and over again. She looked the other way. Over and over again. She told the social worker that the girls were liars and troublemakers and the social worker believed her. As soon as the cops left with Andy, she was on the phone with the social worker, telling lies about Linnie, but that wasn’t enough. She came after Linnie with a frying pan. Tried to hit her. Tried to beat her. I heard Linnie scream and ran upstairs to see why. One of the other kids was with me and we both saw Linnie cowering in a corner, trying to protect her head. We saw the bitch beating her. I gave the other kid my phone, told him to record everything, and he did while I pulled the bitch off Linnie. Andy—” Shane cut himself off, shaking his head. “Her bastard husband had been killed by a blow to the head with a frying pan, so when the cops saw the footage, they assumed she’d killed her husband in a rage because he was cheating. We had her on tape accusing Linnie of being a whore and seducing him.” He shrugged, his expressive face grown stone-cold. “Dots connected.”

  Adam couldn’t—wouldn’t—blame the boy for lying to police to save his friend. He couldn’t verbally endorse it, but he wouldn’t speak up to condemn it either. He couldn’t stay silent, not forever, anyway, but clearing that crime wasn’t his priority at the moment. “Do the Indianapolis police still have the video?”

  Another cold shrug. “I assume so. His wife got fifteen years, because all the kids came forward with all the stories they’d been too scared to tell. Linnie had a broken arm and a concussion from the bitch’s attack.”

  Shane’s expression had gone cold when he started the story and now it stayed that way. The personality change was noteworthy, Adam thought. Didn’t mean any of what the boy said was a lie, but he had not escaped his youth undamaged, that was for damn sure.

  In fact, the kid reminded Adam of himself and wasn’t that a kick in the head.

  “Anything else?” Shane asked, his chin lifting, his eyes narrowing slightly. But he still held Meredith’s hands like a lifeline.

  “I have a question,” Meredith said. “Who did you think I was?”

  The stone-cold rage on his face receded, enough that he again looked like the young man he’d been when Adam had first entered the room. “I was afraid you were Bethany Row, the social worker,” Shane admitted. “I saw your photo online, but it was grainy. I couldn’t see your face, but she had red hair like yours. Looked a little like you, too. We hated her. She was the only person—other than the foster bitch—that Andy would have tried to kill, and Walton’s wife is still in jail.” Fear flickered through his eyes. “I think. Can you make sure?”

  “I promise I will make sure,” Adam said levelly. “Do you have any photos of Linnie? We can get one from Indy’s Children’s Services, but if you have one, that would let us start searching sooner.”

  Finally releasing Meredith’s hand, Shane pulled his phone from his pocket and found a photo, new tears filling his eyes. “The three of us,” he said hoarsely, showing them a photo of three young people arm in arm, smiling. “This was before. You know. Before Linnie was hurt. I need to find her. She might be hurt. Or cold . . .” His voice broke.

  “Let the police search,” Meredith said softly. “They know this town. If they can’t find her at the colleges, they know all the places she might hide. You need to rest.”

  Kyle looked worried. “I don’t know where we can go. We don’t know anyone here and we used all our cash for gas.” He twisted in his chair to look back at Isenberg. “Haven’t you heard anything about Tiff? It’s not like her to not answer my texts.”

  “I’ll call Chicago PD again right now,” Isenberg said. “We’ll also find you a safe place to sleep. Stay here for a little while and we’ll be back. Detective? Dr. Fallon?”

  Meredith pushed away from the table, but gave Shane’s messy hair one last stroke. “Do you have anyone back in Chicago to help you?”

  “Me,” Kyle declared and Meredith smiled at him.

  “You’re a great friend, but I was talking about a counselor.”

  “The school has resources. He can see the shrink there.” Kyle waved the question away. “Please, please, go find out about Tiff,” he begged.

  Meredith stood up. “Of course. We can talk more later.”

  Shane gripped Meredith’s hand as she stepped away, but once again there was no danger. Just a kid, grateful for her kindness. “Thank you,” Shane said gruffly. “For telling me about Andy and for believing he was good.”

  She gave Shane’s hand a final squeeze before following Adam and Isenberg out of the room. When the three of them were in the hall, a safe distance from the interview room, Meredith turned to Isenberg, ignoring Adam.

  Just as you asked her to, he told himself, shoving back his irritation.

  “You got news from Chicago?” Meredith asked Isenberg.

  Isenberg’s brows lifted in question. “How did you know?”

  “You looked sad after checking your phone. The girlfriend. Tiffany. Is she dead?”

  Isenberg nodded grimly. “I got the text along with a number to call. The lead investigator’s a Detective Reagan. We’ll call him from my office.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cincinnati, Ohio

  Sunday, December 20, 4:50 a.m.

  Don’t look. Don’t touch. Don’t lean, Meredith chanted to herself as she walked to the lieutenant’s office between Adam and Isenberg. He was close enough that she could smell the soap he’d used in her shower.

  Soap she’d smelled up close and personal as she’d finally touched all that beautiful skin, soft, warm, and wet. And you are not going to think about that now. She needed to think about serious things. Sober things.

  It means that I’m an alcoholic. Her breath caught in her throat and she had to force herself to inhale. Yes. Serious things like that. She exhaled quietly and turned her attention to Isenberg, whose jaw was set in an angry line.

  “Did you believe Shane?” she asked. “About the murder that Andy Gold committed?”

  “Yes,” Isenberg said. “I’ll check the details, but my gut says Shane’s telling the truth.”

  “And you have to report this to the Indianapolis DA,” Meredith said sadly.

  “Yes,” Isenberg bit out. She said nothing for thirty seconds, continuing her ground-eating pace that had Meredith nearly skipping to keep up. “And I don’t want to.”

  Meredith could feel furious regret pulsing off the older woman in waves. She knew Lynda Isenberg had a good, loyal heart under the armor—physical and emotional—that she wore. The woman’s reluctance to see Shane punished further underscored her opinion and she was glad that Isenberg was Adam’s boss.

  Did Isenberg know about Adam’s alcoholism? Did anyone know? If any of their friends did, they’d been incredibly discreet, and that was not a normal trait of their group.

  �
�Will Shane face any charges?” she asked Isenberg.

  “I don’t know. I hope not. I’ll do my best to keep that from happening.” The lieutenant unlocked her office door, blocking the path when Meredith started to follow them inside. “Kimble and I are going to Skype with Chicago. You’ll need to wait out here.”

  Meredith blinked. “Oh, right,” she murmured, her cheeks heating. “I forgot that I’m the target.” And the reason that Andy Gold is dead. “I’m so used to being the consultant.”

  “Thanks,” Isenberg said, her expression softening.

  “Sit there.” Adam pointed at the desk closest to the window that allowed Isenberg to see the bullpen, the blinds currently drawn. “Where we can see you.”

  There was no softness in his expression. No indication that an hour before he’d kissed her so tenderly she’d wanted to weep.

  He’s a very good actor. He had to have been, to keep his struggle for sobriety a secret among their circle of nosy friends. She’d do well to remember that.

  “Meredith?”

  Meredith looked up to see Jeff Triplett striding across the room. He was wearing the same suit he’d had on when he’d stopped by her house the evening before. “Hey, Trip,” she said wearily. “You didn’t get to go home either?”

  “Unfortunately, no. Got a call from the lab. What are you doing here?”

  Meredith looked around. There were a few detectives at their desks and she wasn’t sure what she was allowed to say in front of them. “You should probably ask Adam and the lieutenant.” She pointed to the office window. “They’re making a call.”

  He hesitated a moment, hooking a finger under her chin, lifting her gaze to his. She had to tilt her head way back because the man was huge. “You get any sleep at all today?”

  “A little,” she lied.

  He let her go with a snort. “You are an amazing liar.”

  “It’s my X-Man skill,” she said lightly. “I’ll sleep later. They’re taking me to a safe house. My grandfather, too.”

  “I know. Zimmerman e-mailed your guard roster to everyone on the case.”

  Meredith was caught between being touched and freaked. “I have a guard roster?” She should have known she’d be under guard at a safe house, but still. A roster? “Really?”

  “Until we figure out how all the pieces connect, you’re the key right now.” He flashed a smile that made women swoon. Especially Kendra, she thought dryly. “Kate is on tonight and Troy is on tomorrow. They made it known that they really wanted the duty.”

  Meredith smiled back at him, relieved. “That’s good to know. I’ll be able to sleep with them on watch.” Kate had become one of her very best friends in the short time they’d known each other, and Kate’s partner, Agent Luther Troy, was a very kind man. Older than the rest of them, he tended to skirt the edge of their circle. “Troy always seems lonely. I’ll have to use this opportunity to work on him, so he starts accepting our invitations.”

  Trip’s smile became sweet, making her heart melt a little. Oh, Kenny, you are going to have your hands full with this one.

  “You do that,” he said. “He’s all, like, Uncle Luther this and that, and acting like a cross between Yoda and Charles Xavier, but he’s too alone.” He looked over at the window, where Adam still stood, watching them. “I need to get in there. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  “I’m not leaving this chair. His Highness in there has commanded it so.” She thought he’d laugh, but he nodded with all seriousness.

  “Good. We need to be able to watch over you.”

  He went into the office and Meredith sighed. She didn’t want to be watched over like the children she treated, but these circumstances were not normal by any stretch of the imagination and she did not consider herself to be a foolish woman. So sit she would.

  She pulled out her phone and fiddled with it, wishing she could knit like Kate. Wishing she’d brought something to read or even to color. Her hands were fidgety.

  Her whole body was fidgety. I’m tired. But way too wired to sleep. It was a bad combination, she knew. Especially when you forget your meds. Idiot.

  She’d been so rattled as she’d packed. She’d tried to look calm for Adam’s sake, but . . . God. Four people had died in that fire. A family. A baby in a crib. Dead because someone wants to kill me. She’d thought she’d been efficient, focusing on packing, but she’d obviously failed. She never forgot her meds and now was not the time to miss a dose.

  Maybe Adam will take me back to my house so I can get . . . No, she thought. She wouldn’t ask him to do that. He was exhausted and would need to sleep, at least a little. Going straight to the safe house made the most sense.

  Meredith desperately wanted to be sensible, even when everything else was upside down and crazy, so she sent a text to Kate. Did u leave my house yet?

  The reply came less than a second later. Yes. Arrived @ SH. Why?

  They’d already arrived at the safe house. Meredith sighed. I forgot something. She was considering asking Kate to go back when her phone buzzed with a reply.

  I cleaned out ur medicine cabinet. Dumped it all in a bag. Was in a rush so I didn’t bother to check all the labels. Some of the stuff might be expired. Okay?

  Meredith breathed out a sigh of relief. Thx. Hoping to be there soon. Papa OK?

  Fine. Playing games w/Diesel who doesn’t want to leave. Think u have a new cousin cuz Clarke has adopted him.

  That settled something within her and she let out the first easy breath in hours. Diesel needed her grandfather. Maybe as much as I do, she thought.

  Her phone buzzed again. Also . . . got ur . . . *stuff* from ur safe.

  Meredith’s eyes widened. Her guns. Shit. Now she was wondering what exactly she had packed. Hopefully her toothbrush, at least. How did u know code?

  Clarke. He says u must change code ASAP.

  She sighed. Of course Papa would know. Her combination had been her parents’ wedding anniversary. Tell him I will. Thx for all. See u soon.

  A throat clearing above her had her looking up. A man in his late thirties, early forties was alternating between looking at her and looking through the window at Adam, his expression worried. He wore a dark blue suit, slightly rumpled, his tie tugged away from his collar, the top few buttons of his shirt undone. His blond hair was silver at the tips, his eyes accented with faded crow’s-feet, as if he laughed a lot.

  A prickle of alarm skittered down her spine, and she felt the urge to bolt for Isenberg’s office door, but she shoved it away. She was going to have to be prepared for fear when she met new people for a while. The last new person who’d walked up to her had pulled a gun and then gotten killed in front of her.

  She knew her fear now was unfounded. She was in the middle of the police station, for goodness’ sake. But she also knew PTSD happened in cases like hers. She didn’t plan to be one of those therapists who ignored her own symptoms. She met new people every damn day, so she was going to have to deal.

  “I don’t work here,” she said, conjuring a polite smile. “But I’m sure someone else here can help you.”

  “It’s okay. I work here. Well, not here on Isenberg’s task force. Or in Homicide.” He stuck out his hand, revealing the shoulder holster he wore, complete with service weapon. “Detective Hanson, narcotics division.”

  Meredith shook his hand, still smiling politely even though she still wanted to run. “Do I know you?” Because she felt like she should.

  “We’ve never met, no. I’m a friend of Detective Kimble’s.” He pointed to the window, where she could see Adam, Trip, and Isenberg gathered around Isenberg’s laptop. Adam looked up at that moment, his gaze landing first on Meredith before noticing Detective Hanson and his eyes widened, his mouth curving into a rueful smile. He held up his right hand, flexing four fingers in a “come here” gesture, followed by his index finger ticking like a
clock.

  Sign language, Meredith realized, and searched her memory for the meaning. She knew a few signs because Deacon and Dani’s younger brother was deaf and they signed to him. She’d practiced hard the few times Greg had joined their group for a barbecue or party, but what she’d learned seemed to seep out of her head as soon as the young man said good-bye. Languages had never been her forte and sign wasn’t looking to be any different.

  Adam, she knew, was fluent, as were Dani and Deacon. Even Faith was learning, since Greg Novak was soon to become her brother-in-law.

  “Fifteen,” Hanson supplied, startling her. “He said he’d be done in fifteen minutes.”

  Meredith regarded the man with curiosity. “You know sign language?”

  “A little. Adam and I have been friends since high school. He taught me a few signs.” He indicated the chair at the next desk. “May I?”

  She shrugged. “Like I said, I don’t work here.”

  He eased himself into the desk’s chair. “I was also Adam’s first partner, when he was fresh out of the academy. I was a few years ahead experience-wise because he went to college first. He taught me some sign back then because it came in handy when we needed to silently communicate. I kept it up.”

  “Really?” Meredith wondered exactly how much of Adam’s personal information this man planned to tell—for all he knew—a complete and total stranger.

  He smiled at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I know who you are, Dr. Fallon.”

  Busted, she thought. Her poker face was not fully functional when she hadn’t properly slept. “How?”

  “You’re all over the newspapers, for one. Also, I used to work Personal Crimes. Several of the victims whose cases I worked were referred to you afterward.”

  “Oh. That’s how I know your name.” She grimaced. “Saying thank you seems wrong for this occasion. Those were hard cases. When did you leave Personal Crimes?”