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Proof Page 27

by Jordyn Redwood


  “How did you manage that?”

  It was the first time a smile broached the corners of her lips. “It wasn’t as hard as you might think. We had a sample from Drew, who was a match for Drake’s bone-marrow transplant. I brought the boys to visit Meryl, and while I was at her place, I stole her hairbrush and toothbrush. Meryl has a brother who’s considered the black sheep of the family, but we’re kindred spirits so I always kept in touch with him. He let me take a swab from him. I brought them back to the geneticist, and she performed these tests on her own time at a private lab that her husband owned so that Drake wouldn’t catch wind of it.”

  “And the results?” Lilly’s heart stalled in her chest.

  “The tests showed that Drew, his twin brother, was the father. However, Drew was in prison when Trevor was conceived. That’s when she said Drake must be a chimera.” “A chimera?”

  “I wouldn’t know how to explain it, but I presented the test results to Drake. I told him even if he left me, I was going to sue him for everything he had, and he would support those boys.”

  “What was his reaction?”

  “The fire.”

  Lilly’s vision clouded, heat rose within her. Her head pounded. “You think he started it?”

  “Yes, I just can’t prove it.”

  “How do you think he did it?”

  Julie’s hands began to shake. She clutched them together to still them.

  “Another doctor covered for him. That happened all the time when he was sleeping around. His medical group was having trouble finding qualified doctors, and they didn’t want him to get fired.”

  Julie stopped and pressed her lips together until her trembling eased.

  “It was clear to the arson investigators that the fire originated in the boys’ room. Gasoline poured over their beds.” Julie collapsed forward in her chair, her face smothered in her hands as she tried to quiet her sobs. After several minutes, she sat up, brushing away her tears with quick flicks of her hands. Her words came between chopped hiccups. “We had a main-floor suite. The smoke detector woke me up. When I left my bedroom to get the boys, the staircase was in flames. I couldn’t get to them.”

  Julie hugged herself, running her hands up and down her arms. Her voice cracked but was calmer. Quiet control set in.

  “I don’t think it would have mattered anyway. When I came out the front door, all I could see was flames shooting out every window on the upper level. When the firefighters got there, they broke in but couldn’t make it to the second floor, either.”

  “Why do you think he did it?”

  “He wanted those boys dead. He didn’t want to take responsibility for them.”

  How could Drake deliver life and, in the next breath, kill his own sons? Go into their bedroom, gaze upon the peaceful look of sleep on their faces, and pour a toxic combustible over them to burn their flesh, one of the most excruciating deaths imaginable? It made her father’s actions seem tame in comparison. Lilly wanted to vomit.

  She changed the subject for both their sakes. “How did his brother end up in prison?”

  “Like I said, the Stipmans are wealthy. Growing up, Drake and Drew were very popular at high school. Drake was the classic athlete, sports hero. Drew was more refined, captain of the debate team.”

  “Is that where you met Drake?”

  “Yes, when I was a freshman, and he was a senior. I admired him like all the girls did, from afar. We lived close so I would watch for his comings and goings. It was just after our marriage that the girl turned up dead.”

  “Who was she?”

  “Kate Randall.”

  Lilly’s mind whirled. That name was familiar.

  “What happened?”

  “The whole thing was eerie. Her body was found on a golf course not far from where we lived, on the thirteenth green. She’d been beaten until she lost consciousness and left to die. Then a storm came. The police theory was that she was alive for a while because she bled through the snow that had fallen over her. Drew was a prime suspect because they were dating. They were both freshmen in college, home on Christmas break. They’d been out that night and been seen by several people.”

  “Where was Drake?”

  “Not with me, that’s all I can say.”

  “You suspect him?”

  “You’d have to know Drew. He’s complacent. Honestly doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. He would avoid violence at every turn. During this time, I’d begun to see Drake for who he really was. There was this controlled savagery within him. He would try to cover it, but it was always in his eyes. Right after we married, he showed me the pet cemetery in his backyard.”

  The classic symptoms of antisocial personality disorder coalesced like bullet points in Lilly’s mind. Lack of empathy. Pervasive lying. History of torturing animals. “He was responsible for these deaths.”

  “At first he said no. Then he claimed he would use them to learn more about medicine. Dissect them and perform surgery. Keep in mind, those animals were not anesthetized. Toward the end of our relationship when he was openly spiteful, he would go into long details about what he had done to those pitiful creatures. It was awful.”

  “What happened after Kate was murdered?”

  “They arrested Drew right away. I was so concerned for him that I met with police and told them Drake could be responsible. I was close to delivering our first child, and it was obvious this detective didn’t place much credence in my story. He wrote it off as the hysterical ranting of a pregnant woman. They liked Drew as a suspect and were testing some blood found on the victim.”

  “What did the results show?”

  “At that time, they didn’t do the extensive testing they do now. Once the basic blood type was a match, they stopped looking.”

  “But you thought they still needed to look at Drake.”

  “Yes. And that’s when it became interesting. Drake should have the same blood type as his brother because they’re identical twins. The police were nervous about testing my husband because they thought it would only complicate matters, and they didn’t want to screw up their case. But then the victim’s sister came forward and claimed that Drake had picked Kate up after Drew dropped her off. That put the police in a corner, and they tested Drake.”

  “And?”

  “They showed that Drew was a match to the blood type, but something happened with Drake’s specimen.”

  “What?”

  “The results were inconclusive. They tried to test it again, and the same thing happened.”

  “Inconclusive.” Lilly pondered the implications. Were the police protecting Drake? Was the lab complicit? Or was it a medical anomaly they couldn’t decipher at the time?

  “Yes. And after that, they didn’t feel like they wanted to look anymore. The rest is history, as they say. Drew was convicted, based solely on the match of his blood type.”

  “Have you seen Drew since he’s been released from prison?”

  “No, but I know they’re looking for him in relation to these rapes in Colorado.”

  Lilly glossed over the statement. “Do you still happen to keep in touch with that geneticist friend of yours?”

  “Yeah, we talk often.”

  “Do you think it would be possible for me to speak with her?”

  “About Drake?”

  “That and her thoughts about Drew’s case.”

  Lilly could see the fear in Julie’s eyes as she considered her request. Would she put her friend at risk? “Can I ask you a question? Is this baby Drake’s?”

  The rocking motion of the chair increased Lilly’s dizziness; she pressed her toes into the floor to keep the recliner still. “Yes.”

  “Did he rape you?”

  A cool saliva filled her mouth. “Yes.”

  “Did you kill your friend?” Julie’s voice was soft, as if the tone would soften the implication.

  “You’ve seen the news.” Lilly wiped the sweat from the base of her neck.

  “Watc
h it every day. Listen, you don’t have to answer. They know you’re in Las Vegas. Meryl Stipman found me. Drake won’t be far behind. I got a call from Meryl just today warning me not to talk to you. She knows you’ve been looking into Drake’s medical records.”

  Lilly sat forward. The walls of the trailer closed in several inches. She glanced at the door, the sunlight under the frame a welcome relief. A shadow passed through the thin line. “How is that possible?”

  “That woman has spies everywhere. Why do you think I live here, in hell? I thought I’d finally dropped off her radar, but your rummaging into Drake’s past is causing Meryl to tighten her grip on anyone who could help the truth come out. Lilly, Drake’s onto you. That’s why he murdered your friend. He’s looking for you. And he’s not going to stop until he finds you. Your friends and family don’t matter to him, either. Whatever it is you’re doing, it better be enough to put him away, because if you don’t, you’ll be running forever.”

  Julie reached over for a pad and paper and scrawled down a name and number.

  “I’m going to call her first and tell her to be expecting you. You’re going to have to meet somewhere private. It wouldn’t surprise me if someone is following her, too.”

  “Thank you.”

  Julie stood and tugged her shirt straight over her scrawny frame.

  “I’ll also be moving today. Probably leave the state this time. Your being here will bring Drake back, and I can’t risk that.”

  Lilly attempted to stand, but her legs were weak and she leaned heavily against the arm. “I understand. If you’re scared of him, why did you help me?”

  Julie placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Sometimes fear is worse than death. By meeting you, hopefully I’m helping to put him away so that I can live in peace.”

  Lilly stood, steadying herself on the chair as her vision clouded over, squeezing out droplets of sweat as she ran her fingers through her hair. Her stomach tilted.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well. The heat in here must be getting to me.”

  She stumbled as she made her way to the front door. Her vision darkened as she placed her hand on the knob. She pulled the door open, and even through her tunneled vision, she could see Drake Maguire standing in front of her.

  Chapter 41

  March 23

  LILLY FELT THICK and heavy and literally tied down to the bed she’d been sleeping on. Moving her left hand over her belly, she felt four tight elastic bands. The movement of her right hand was restricted by an IV. Her vision remained blurred, and her tongue was heavy, coated with a thick, mucous paste that was unrelieved after several attempts to increase saliva in her mouth. Grabbing the rail on the side of the bed, she turned and saw a dark figure sitting in the corner. His posture was rigid.

  Guarded.

  Lilly felt through her covers for the nurse call light, trying to keep her fear at bay.

  The man leaned forward as he saw her stir but did not approach.

  “Lilly. I don’t want you to be frightened. I’m Drew, Drake’s brother. I’m not going to hurt you. I want to help.” His voice was deep and gravelly, possibly marred by years of cigarette smoking.

  Lilly eased back into her pillows, keeping the button for the nurse tucked in her hand.

  “What happened to me?” Her heartbeat slowed with his revelation. Wouldn’t she already be dead if he’d wanted to harm her? Her instinct told her to wait for an explanation.

  “You passed out. I didn’t think it was safe to take you to a major medical center with our names on the news. I know it was risky with the pregnancy, but I drove you about an hour outside the city to a smaller community hospital.”

  Smart choice. One that helped her stay hidden.

  “What’s wrong? Are the babies okay?” She closed one eye in an attempt to clear her double vision. No luck.

  “The doctor says your blood pressure is too high. The babies are fine, but the medicine they put you on … Mag …”

  “Magnesium sulfate.”

  “Right, that’s it. They said it would make your vision blurry.”

  “It’s to keep me from having a seizure. How long have I been here?”

  “You’ve been in and out of it for two days. Do you remember anything?”

  “Two days?”

  “You haven’t been taking care of yourself.”

  Concern for her welfare. Her wariness continued to ease.

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “I know.”

  “Come closer.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She lifted her hand and waved him forward. He scooted his chair, the metal legs scraping against the tile as he pulled it. “I should tell you that I signed you in under an alias, told them we’re married and that I was so worried about you, I left my wallet at home.”

  He turned his chair to face her.

  “Are you dirty? I can’t tell.”

  “Tattoos actually.”

  “Why so many?”

  “When you’re in prison, you have to find something to occupy your time. This is what kept me alive.”

  “Tattoos?”

  “Well, providing them for other inmates. People respected my work so I could stay relatively independent. I didn’t need a gang to protect me.”

  The bed swayed like a canoe in rough water. She gripped the side rail to steady herself against the vertigo. This unsolicited offer of assistance considering Drake’s ruthlessness kept doubt in her mind. “Why are you helping me?”

  He shifted in his chair, twirling his thumbs for several seconds before answering.

  “I don’t have a choice. They’re looking at me for the rapes of these women in Colorado. I don’t want to go back to jail. If Drake can be proven guilty of those crimes, maybe they’ll look at the one I served time for.”

  Clarity began to ease her brain fog. “Were you ever close with him?”

  “Sure, when we were younger.”

  “How can he ruin your life like this? Allow you to take the blame for his crimes?”

  “Drake had a hard life growing up. Sometimes, I feel responsible for what he became because I didn’t stop what was happening. I’m his older brother, even if it’s only by a few minutes. I should have protected him. I was the stronger one.”

  “What did happen to him?”

  “My father left when we were little. I don’t know if he’s still alive. My mother’s an angry, domineering type. Everything had to be perfect. You know how hard it is for young boys to stay clean. Drake had a problem toilet training. Lasted until he was in grade school. I can clearly remember. When he would wet the bed, she would yank him from our room, throw him in a bathtub of cold water, and scrub him till his skin bled, shaming him the whole time about what an awful boy he was. She singled him out for abuse. I was spared. Drake feels my going to prison is retribution for his suffering, because I didn’t protect him.”

  “Your mother has to be aware of his crimes … what she created.”

  “She’s a smart woman.”

  “I mean the grant she gave to the state.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Lilly shifted. The fetal monitor toned then resumed the rhythms of the babies’ heartbeats. “There was a large grant given to the state of Nevada so their crime lab could catch up on putting their DNA samples into CODIS. When they entered their backlog of specimens, that’s how they fingered you for Colorado.”

  He smoothed his hand over his head.

  “I knew she would protect him. I guess I didn’t know how far she would go.”

  “Placing blame on her innocent son?”

  “To absolve herself over how she tortured Drake.” He reached for the pack of cigarettes in his back pocket; pulling one from the pack, he rolled it between his thumb and index finger. “Right after I went to prison, she paid me a visit. She seemed relieved that I was there. I was adamant about my innocence and begged her for help. I asked her to hire a top
attorney for my appeal. After all, she was loaded with money. Her only response to me was that I was the strong one and that I needed to be where I was to protect Drake. She said if he went to jail, he would die.”

  “How did you take it?”

  “It hurt a lot. But once I was in prison, it was clear I wasn’t going to get any more help from her. I didn’t have any money. The only thing she did for me was pay off my debt from the first trial. The evidence that led to my conviction seemed irrefutable, so there wasn’t any chance another attorney would take my case pro bono. I dug in—survived. I was angry, but that began to slowly kill me. I kept my nose clean. Got early release and have been trying to start over. Now, Drake seems to be freelancing on my DNA.”

  Lilly’s heart ached for his predicament. “Do you know about the evidence from your trial?”

  “I couldn’t tell you the ins and outs now. You’d think I would never forget, but you do. It’s been a long time.”

  Drew placed himself at risk by helping her. The least she could do was trust his intentions. A small hope began to take seed in her soul. “We need to talk to Julie’s geneticist friend.”

  A man entered the room. Drew pushed his chair back and stood, maintaining the part of the dutiful husband.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Lane?”

  The physician approached her bed and extended his hand. Lilly, impaired by her double vision, tried to estimate the location of the real appendage as she reached forward. He saved her from guessing and clasped her hand between his two.

  “I’m Dr. Stone. Hayden, it’s good to finally meet you. You’ve been pretty sick the last day or so. Your vision should get better in a couple of hours. The nurse has stopped your magnesium. Do you mind if we talk in front of your husband?”

  She paused. Even though she didn’t fear Drew, she didn’t know him either and was unsure about how much information he should be privy to. Maybe the more information he had the better off both of them would be.

  “Of course, it’s fine.”

 

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