by LENA DIAZ,
“That was pretty much it. I spent my daylight hours with Mom. Oh, she also made homemade strawberry cheesecake and we stuffed ourselves with a piece of that when we got home. Then she gave me a kiss, we hugged, and she gave me her car keys so I could go see you.”
“You left the house around what time?”
“Seven thirty, give or take. I drove straight to the barn at the edge of the Caldwell property, just a stone’s throw from where your daddy’s land began. You were already there.”
His fingers idly rubbed her shoulder through her blouse, but he didn’t say anything.
She sniffed, wiped her eyes again. “It was the most romantic evening we’d ever had. You thought of everything. You had fresh hay strewn all over the floor with soft blankets and pillows. Lanterns cast a soft glow.”
He let out a puff of laughter. “We’re lucky we didn’t roast alive with all that flammable fuel. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You were thinking that you wanted my eighteenth birthday to be perfect. And it was. And so was your proposal. I’m so sorry that I ruined everything, Max.”
His arm dropped from around her shoulders and he made a few notes on his pad, as if she hadn’t just mentioned the moment when she’d destroyed their future. But she could tell from the lines of tension on his forehead that he wasn’t as immune to the memories as he pretended.
“We left at the same time,” he said. “You in your mom’s car, me hoofing it across the field to go home. That was about nine thirty. I had to get up early the next day so my dad could help me rebuild the carburetor in the old junker we were restoring together. But you didn’t go straight home, did you? You were seen later that evening in town. With Bobby.”
She stiffened beside him. “I wasn’t with Bobby. I was never willingly with Bobby. Ever.”
He tilted her chin up. “You don’t have to tell me that. I knew firsthand how obsessed he was with you, that he wouldn’t leave you alone. I fought more than one fight with him and his father’s hired hands out at the farm trying to get him to leave you alone. So don’t get all upset like you think I’m implying something when I’m not. He was a sick stalker. Period. But because of the crappy laws, there wasn’t anything Thornton could do until Bobby actually crossed the line and hurt you. It sucks, it really does. But that’s how it was back then.”
She blinked against the burn of unshed tears and let out a shaky breath. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing, Bex. Let’s just try to stop doing things that hurt each other and get through this, okay?”
“Okay.” She settled back against the couch. A burst of lightning lit up the darkening sky. The water behind the house was so choppy now that it reminded her of the rapids in the creek that ran behind the Caldwell property, gouging deep cliffs thirty feet and higher, hidden from the Caldwell mansion by a copse of thick trees. Cliffs she and Max and a group of other teens had climbed a dozen times on dares, until the farmhands that doubled as Robert Caldwell’s security men had chased them off with guns one night.
They’d all been fools and were lucky to be alive. She had never understood why old man Caldwell felt he needed all those thugs around him. But maybe that kind of paranoia came with being wealthy. Then again, he did have a spate of vandalism one year, some neighborhood kids spray painting his barns with sexually explicit cartoons. It was funny until he produced footage from some hidden cameras on the property and was able to get those kids thrown into juvie for their crimes. So maybe he wasn’t so paranoid after all. Maybe he was the smart one.
“Go on,” Max encouraged. “You left the barn at nine thirty. Then what happened?”
“When I went into the house—”
“You went directly home?”
“Yes.”
“What time was it when you got there?”
“I drove straight from the barn to the house, so that probably took about fifteen minutes. And I was only home a few minutes, like maybe ten. Mama was on the verge of one of her migraines. I think we overdid it—maybe she was dehydrated from drinking too many sodas while we were out, I don’t know. Anyway, she was out of pills. I got back in the car and drove into town to the only twenty-four-hour convenience store, on Maple Street and Fifth.”
“Smiths.”
“Yes.”
“I remember looking up at that huge clock above the door and it was 10:22.”
“Ten twenty-two exactly?”
She nodded.
“How can you be so sure?” He scribbled down the time.
“I remember saying to myself that if something horrible happened to me that night, I needed to tell the police it happened at 10:22.”
His gaze shot to hers. “Why would you think that?”
“Because that was when Bobby Caldwell walked into the store.”
Chapter Sixteen
Bex twisted her hands together, the bad memories washing over her from that awful night ten years ago.
“He harassed me, as usual. Grabbed my arm, rubbed up against me.”
Max’s pen stopped, his knuckles whitening around his pen. “Was anyone else in the store?”
“The sales clerk. I don’t know his name. Oh, and Marcia.”
“Marcia Knolls?”
She nodded. “She was following Bobby around as usual. And he was ignoring her, bothering me instead. I told him to leave me alone and I hurried to the register to buy Mama’s pills. After paying, I ran out to my car and left.”
“Where were Bobby and Marcia at that time?”
“Marcia came out shortly after me, drove off in her car. I remember she ended up behind me at a stoplight and gave me the finger. I didn’t see Bobby come out of the store. I’m not sure where he went right after that.”
“You drove straight home?”
She shook her head. “No. I realized I was almost out of gas and was worried I wouldn’t make it home, so I stopped and filled up.” She told him which station she’d used.
“Did anyone see you?”
She waved toward the manila folder on the table. “If that’s the case file, don’t you know this part? I’m sure the chief had his men comb the town to create a timeline for his persons of interest. And with me as the number-one suspect, you probably know exactly how many gallons of gas I got and how I paid for it.”
“I knew you were at the store and got gas. But I didn’t have your side, that Bobby was harassing you. And I didn’t know Marcia was at the store. I’m not trying to be cruel by taking you through every step. I’m just trying to ensure that we don’t miss anything, okay?”
“Okay.”
“You filled up, went inside to pay?”
“Had to. I didn’t have Mama’s credit card, didn’t expect to need gas. She only gave me five bucks for the pills. Luckily I had some of my babysitting money in my purse. But, yeah, I had to go inside to pay. Mr. Alverson was the one working that night. That one’s easy to remember. He’s there all the time. Even now. I saw him there last week.”
Max’s mouth quirked in a half smile. “He runs that place like his own little fiefdom. How long were you inside?”
“Not long. Maybe five minutes. I drove home, gave Mama the pills, put her to bed. I was about to go to bed myself when I heard a soft knock on the door. But no one was there. That’s when I saw the note. Someone had slid it under the door.”
He stopped writing. “A note? Who was it from?”
“You.”
His head jerked up. “Me? I didn’t send you a note.”
“I know that now, of course. The note was supposedly sent through one of your friends. It said your dad was mad at you for something and took your phone. But that you really needed to talk to me, that it couldn’t wait. I figured you were still angry at me turning down your proposal, that maybe you were going to try
to convince me to say yes. But I was also worried that something else had happened, that maybe you were in trouble. The note said to meet you at a cabin on the Caldwell property. It even had a little hand-drawn map.”
“You didn’t think that was odd? You didn’t think to call me?”
“Why would I? I had no reason not to believe the note, that your dad had your phone. We’d met in that barn on the Caldwell property a dozen times. I figured the cabin was somewhere new you’d discovered, yet another building close to the border of your dad’s property where we could meet without being caught. It really didn’t seem any different than meeting you in our usual spot. And, well, after we’d left on such bad terms, I figured maybe you didn’t want to meet at the barn. Karma and all that. I was anxious to try to smooth things over. I didn’t want you to hate me.”
A pained expression crossed his face. “I could never hate you, Bex. I assume that was the same cabin where Bobby’s body was later found?”
She nodded.
“Please tell me you kept the note.”
“I had it with me when I went to the cabin. But not when I left.”
“I didn’t see it listed in the police report of items found.”
“All I know is that it was in my pocket when I got there. But not later. I assume Bobby took it.”
He set his pen and notepad on the end table and turned to face her. “Tell me everything, Bex. Exactly as you remember it.”
“As soon as I got there and went into the outbuilding, I knew I’d been tricked. You weren’t there waiting for me. Since your house is so close by, there’s no way I’d have gotten there before you. I turned around, and Bobby had just come inside. He was grinning like an idiot as he closed the door. But I was the idiot.” She clenched her hands into fists.
“What did he do?”
She closed her eyes, wishing she could block out the memory of Bobby just as easily. “He threw me to the floor and...and lay on top of me. He held my face still and kissed me. When I tried to bite him, he squeezed my jaw until I cried out. I didn’t try to bite him again. It was awful. He ripped my shirt, sending buttons flying all over the cabin. He had a knife. He cut my bra off. And then, then he...” She shook her head. She couldn’t tell Max all the horrible things that Bobby had done to her, how he’d held the knife to her and put his mouth where Max’s had so recently been. It was like he’d destroyed every beautiful touch she and Max had shared before he’d asked her to marry him, and then turned it into something ugly.
“Earlier, at your house when I first questioned you, you said he didn’t rape you. Was that true?” His voice broke on the last word, and she realized this was just as hard for him as it was for her.
“No. No, he didn’t...penetrate me. After he tore off my clothes and did his worst, he was about to...and I knew I couldn’t live with myself if he did. I couldn’t get my knees up to kick him, so I...” She shuddered. “I grabbed him...there...and squeezed as hard as I could. He screamed and fell off me. I scrambled to my feet and he was calling me ugly names and I’d just reached the door when he grabbed my hair. He yanked me back and I remember I flailed my hands out for something, anything to stop him. And I grabbed something off one of the shelves. Later, I realized it was an empty wine bottle. Probably from the last kids who’d snuck onto the farm and used that cabin. I swung it around in an arc. There was a horrible, sickening thud. And then he fell down on the floor. Dead.”
Tears were flowing down her face now. “I gathered up my clothes, searched for the buttons, but I couldn’t find the last one. I couldn’t stay another minute, knowing he was dead. So I ran, got in the car. Drove home. And that’s why my mama wouldn’t let me talk to the police. She knew what I’d done the moment I got home in my torn clothes. She burned them in the fireplace. She vacuumed the car, scrubbed it down, just in case I’d brought any evidence back with me. And she burned the vacuum bag, the paper towels she used, everything. And she made me swear never, ever to say anything at all to the police.”
She was crying hard now, and hated that she was crying. And suddenly Max was in front of her, kneeling on the floor. He’d scooted the table out of the way and was pulling her hands down from her face, looking up at her with some kind of emotion she couldn’t even fathom.
“Are you absolutely sure you told me everything from that night? You didn’t leave out any details?”
“The only details I left out were the vile things he did to my body before he tried to rape me. No, Max. There’s nothing else to tell. I killed him. I didn’t mean to, but I did. And Mama and I were both too afraid to say anything because I’d made so many complaints about Bobby. And his father always made the complaints go away. And everyone knew I hated him. There was no way they’d believe me over Bobby’s father.”
She drew a shaky breath. “I’m not a complete idiot. When I was in jail, after the chief locked me up, I had plenty of time to sit and think about what had happened. And I knew that Mama and I had made some really bad decisions. Maybe if we’d called the police right away and didn’t burn my clothes, the clothes might have helped build my case of self-defense. It’s possible, I suppose. But by then, we’d already destroyed evidence. Even at eighteen I knew that was wrong, illegal and only made me look guilty. I couldn’t tell the chief what really happened at that point. He could have arrested my mom for helping me cover up what happened.”
She could tell from the intensity of his gaze and the way he was looking at her with laser like focus that she wasn’t going to like his next question.
“Bex, you said you wouldn’t let me see you in jail, to protect me. Because you were worried that it could hurt my future career aspirations. While I might not agree with your decision, I can sort of understand it. At that age, as young as we both were, I get how things could look different. But when the chief didn’t have enough evidence to press charges, you left town. And you stayed gone for ten years. Why, in all that time, did you never once call me?”
And there it was. The question she’d both expected and dreaded ever since she’d come back to Destiny. It was one of the primary reasons she’d hoped to avoid him. She twisted her hands in her lap, and said the only thing she could think of.
“You didn’t call me, either.”
His brows raised. “You made it painfully clear through Chief Thornton that you never wanted to see me again. I respected your wishes, even if I didn’t understand them.”
She looked away.
“Bex. Why?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing hard against the tightness in her throat before looking at him again. “Everything just sort of built on everything else. After what happened with Bobby that night, I knew that if I let you back into my life you would do everything you could to protect me. If I spoke to you, I knew I’d tell you exactly what I did, what my mom did to help me cover it up. That would make you complicit in destroying evidence and would ruin your future career. Whether you agree with my reasons or not, all I can say is that my life became a snowball that kept rolling downhill and getting bigger and bigger. I left town to let things die down, hoping Mr. Caldwell would quit lobbying for me to be arrested. Mama kept me updated on what was happening with the case and I knew it only got worse after I left. For a long, long time Mr. Caldwell pushed and pushed the chief to find and arrest me.”
Max slowly nodded. “You’re right. He was like a crazy man for the better part of a year before he stopped visiting the station every day, demanding your head on a silver platter.”
“I know. And by then, I was building a life in Knoxville. I had the antique business going. And from there, it was easier if I didn’t think of Destiny and what I’d run from.”
“Including me?”
Her lip wobbled when she answered. “Yes. Including you. It hurt just to think about you. You were the reminder of everything that I’d lost. It was easier to push you to the bac
k of my mind. To try to never think of you again.”
He winced and looked toward the back wall of windows at the ever-darkening stormy-looking sky. What had he expected her to say? That she loved him then, loved him still? She did, with her whole heart. But she’d lost everything the night Bobby Caldwell died, including Max. And the only way she could survive that loss was to start over.
A long time passed in silence. When Max finally turned back toward her, he was Detective Max again. All business and professional. With none of the earlier warmth he’d shown. He asked her more questions, and every time she heard his cold voice, her heart broke a little bit more.
Finally, after answering another one of his questions, she said, “This is such a nightmare.”
His jaw tightened, and she knew he was probably thinking the same thing. Except that his nightmare was that he had agreed to help her. And that he was most likely regretting that decision now.
“Just tell me one more thing,” he said. “Do you remember if Bobby wore his ring that night?”
“The chunky one with diamonds all over it, the one his father gave him as some kind of heirloom? That he lorded over all of us at school? That ring?”
“Yes. That ring.”
“Definitely. It got caught in my hair when he grabbed me. Ripped out some of my hair by the roots. Or, at least, it felt like it.”
“Did you take the ring with you when you left?”
“No. I wish I’d thought to. It probably has my DNA all over it, from my scalp. Yet another reason not to cooperate with the police. Why? I’m guessing you found it and want me to give a DNA sample for comparison?”
He shook his head. “The ring was never found.”
She frowned. “But that doesn’t make sense. He was definitely wearing it.”
“You said you hit him on the head with a wine bottle?”
