by Hope White
“A kind and generous man is dead. Doesn’t he deserve justice?”
Of course he did. Nic just wasn’t sure she was strong enough to be the one to deliver it.
“Look, I don’t mean to overstep my bounds but consider this— As long as you let your fear motivate your decisions, essentially you’re letting your father continue to control you.”
The mention of her father lit a slow burn in her stomach.
“I’d hate to see fear eat away at you,” he said. “If you turn your back on this investigation, on Edward Lange, you may regret it years from now.”
She ripped her gaze from his, wanting to say he couldn’t possibly understand how she felt, that she’d never allowed herself the luxury of thinking about “years from now.” In fact, she felt lucky to survive one week at a time, always on edge, worried that the monster would track her down in Seattle and take out his revenge for losing his family. Nic had been the one to help Beau and Addy escape and leave the violence behind. Once they where safely away she packed up her things, brushed past her drunken father and walked out the door.
His words still haunted her: you will never be safe.
And so far, he’d been right.
Yet Detective Donovan accused her of making bad decisions motivated by fear. He simply didn’t understand.
“I’m going to try and get some sleep.” She stood and padded across the wood floor into the bedroom away from Alex and his accusations. They felt like barbs puncturing her integrity. Was it so wrong to want to protect herself?
“Why don’t you go downstairs with the chief,” she said, fluffing the pillow on her bed.
“I promised I’d stay with you.”
“There are three cops in the house. I’ll be fine.”
“Nicole—”
“Please.” She glanced at him. “Just go.”
With a nod, he opened the door. “I’ll be close if you need me.”
He shut the door with a click.
“I won’t,” she whispered to herself.
Because she couldn’t afford to need anyone.
* * *
After a restless night trying to sleep on the living room sofa at the inn, Alex drove Nicole to the police station the next morning. She hadn’t spoken much and he was trying to be respectful of her silence but it was driving him crazy.
He’d blown it, big time, and had no idea how to fix the problem, how to make her trust him again, because that’s what he’d destroyed, right? He’d challenged her about running away, yet apparently she perceived it as criticism and judgment. Alex was the last person on earth to pass judgment on another, and he’d never criticize Nicole.
No, he respected her. Which is why the silence was getting to him.
“How did you sleep?” he asked, glancing across the front seat.
She turned and shared a polite smile. His heart did a triple back flip and he suddenly realized the wisdom of handing her off to the Feds.
“Fitfully,” she answered. “Nightmares.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.”
But it was. He’d been the one to push her, to throw her father in her face when she’d had enough stress for one night.
“Does that happen a lot? Nightmares?” he asked.
“Actually, I haven’t had one in a long time.”
Which made Alex feel even worse.
“But it wasn’t just the nightmares that kept me up,” she said. “I had a lot to think about.”
“That always makes for a restful sleep,” he joked.
A sad smile tugged at the corner of her lips. He ripped his attention back to Main Street, hating that he was the cause of that defeated expression.
Gripping the steering wheel, an internal battle raged on. Maybe he was personalizing this too much, subconsciously trying to make up for Jessica’s death by protecting Nicole. Maybe he should, in fact, give bodyguard duties to another officer or federal agent who wasn’t haunted by his past.
They pulled up to the police station and she was out of the car before he turned off the engine. He watched her disappear inside, still wearing the green Decker’s Resort sweatshirt.
She was probably anxious to ask the chief to hand her over to the Feds, to say that she didn’t feel safe in Alex’s custody and didn’t appreciate his lectures.
He hadn’t meant to lecture her but he’d wanted to release her from the controlling fear of the past. As he got out of the truck his phone vibrated. Ripping it off his belt, he recognized his brother’s number.
“Quinn, everything okay?” Alex asked.
“I should be asking you that question. I heard Edward Lange was killed last night.”
“Yes, unfortunately that’s true.”
“Word is, either by an ex-lover, or competitor who he drove out of business.”
“Are you asking or telling?”
“Neither, just touching base.”
“You’re not getting any fuel for the gossip fire from me, little brother.”
“That’s why you think I called,” Quinn said, his voice flat.
Somehow Alex had stepped into a hole again.
“Sorry, I’m going on no sleep and haven’t had my coffee yet,” Alex apologized.
“Whatever. You’re obviously okay.”
“Quinn—”
“Later.”
With a frustrated sigh, Alex shoved the phone back onto his belt and headed for the station. He had to shelve the family drama and stay focused on solving the Edward Lange murder. Truth was, Alex and his little brother communicated as well as two people who spoke completely different languages. Yet now, with Dad gone, Quinn was Alex’s only family and he often found himself praying for guidance on how to heal the breach that had grown so wide between them.
Alex knew when it started: when he ran away from the stepmonster to join the army and left Quinn at home to take the emotional hits. Alex took off and never looked back, finished his tour and moved to Denver to become a cop.
He hadn’t given much thought to what living with Sophia, also known as the dragon lady, would do to Quinn or their father, who’d been reeled in by the narcissistic former beauty queen.
“And I accused Nicole of running away?” he muttered.
Sleep deprived and off his game, Alex had to get some coffee to clear the cobwebs and help him focus. He opened the station door and was staring at three empty desks. No sign of Nicole, Chief Roth or the secretary.
His heart dropped to his feet. For a second he could barely move, much less think. Then voices drifted from the back cell area and the blood rushed to his head. Feeling like an idiot, he wandered to the coffeepot and poured a cup.
“There he is,” said Wendy Livingston, the secretary, as she came into the office. “Chief was wondering where you were.”
“I had to take a call.”
“The chief’s showing Miss Harris our high-tech cell. I think he’s hoping that will ease her anxiety a bit.”
“Yep, that should do it.”
“How are you holding up?” She’d assigned herself as Alex’s surrogate mother ever since he moved back and joined the department.
“Tired.” He raised his coffee cup. “This should help.”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” the chief said, coming around the corner with Nicole. “It’s such a high profile case that everybody’s scrambling to find the killer.”
“Let’s hope they don’t bump into each other,” Wendy muttered.
“Please, have a seat.” The chief motioned for Nicole to sit down. “Again, I apologize for the altercation between Agent Trotter and Detective Donovan last night.” The chief leaned forward in his chair. “I’d like the two agencies to work together on the case, but the FBI would prefer yo
u go into their protective custody.”
“No, thank you,” Nicole said.
Great, so she’d decided to run away.
“Your life could be in danger,” Chief Roth said.
“I’ve experienced my share of danger and I’ve developed excellent instincts to protect myself.”
“You can’t do it alone,” he argued.
“I don’t plan to.” She glanced over her shoulder at Alex. “I’d like Detective Donovan to protect me.”
Alex put down his coffee. “I’m just one man. You could have a team of agents watching out for you.”
“I don’t want them. I feel safe with you.”
She blinked her amber eyes at Alex and his chest tightened. How was he going to protect this woman when she had this kind of effect on him?
“You’re okay with that, right?” she said.
“Sure,” he said before he could stop himself.
“The feds are going to fight us,” the chief said.
“If they want me to cooperate, they’ll need to respect my wishes,” she said.
“I agree. The challenge will be finding the killer and keeping you safe at the same time,” Chief Roth offered. “Alex is the best detective in the county. It’s going to be hard for him to work the case if he’s in hiding with you.”
“I don’t want to hide, either,” she said, holding Alex’s gaze. “I want to help with the investigation.”
“You sure?” Alex said. Last night she was ready to skip town.
“I’m sure.”
“Okay, then let’s brainstorm a strategy,” the chief suggested.
“We could get the word out that Nicole showed up on the scene after the crime was committed and called it in but wasn’t a witness,” Alex said.
“The techs that processed the scene know that’s not true,” Chief Roth countered.
“Do they? By the time they got there I was leading her out of the closet. That doesn’t mean she was there at the time of the murder. She could have found the body and hid in the closet, fearing the perp was still in the house.”
“And if she wasn’t there at the time of the shooting she shouldn’t be a target,” Chief Roth said. “Good strategy.”
“But the killer may already know the truth,” Nicole said. “He stalked me in the backyard and pretended to be an FBI agent and take me from the medical center.”
“I’m not sure either of them were the killer. He wouldn’t risk exposing his identity.” Alex rubbed his jaw. “And he didn’t hurt you.”
The chief leaned back in his chair. “What are you thinking?”
“If she’s a witness, a threat, why not just kill her?”
“That’s a morbid thought,” Wendy said.
Alex glanced at Nicole. “Sorry.”
She shrugged. “I’ve been wondering the same thing.”
The station door flew open and a fortyish woman with blond hair and an angry expression stormed inside. She scanned the room and she pointed an accusing finger at Nicole. “Arrest her!”
FIVE
Alex instinctively took a step toward the woman to block her. “Who are you?”
“Abigail Woods, Edward Lange’s sister,” she said, her cheeks flushed with anger.
A man stepped into the station behind her. “I’m David Woods, Abigail’s husband.”
A second man, wearing jeans, a baseball cap and a leather jacket hovered by the door. Must be the Woodses’ security.
“Why isn’t she in jail?” Abigail accused, glaring at Nicole.
Alex glanced at Nicole, then back at Lange’s sister. “Why would she be in jail?”
“Because she killed my brother.”
Alex held his ground, keeping Abigail and David Woods a safe distance from Nicole.
“Why are you accusing Miss Harris of murder?” Alex said.
“She has a record for assault. Did she tell you that?”
“No, she didn’t mention it.” Alex turned to Nicole who studied her fingers clenched tightly in her lap.
“Edward had me run background checks on his employees and suppliers,” Abigail said. “I told him about this woman’s arrest and you know what he said? He said everyone deserves a second chance, that history doesn’t define a person’s future. He was so forgiving and trusting and you killed him!” Mrs. Woods shouted.
Nicole’s shoulders jerked, but she didn’t defend herself.
“Accusations won’t help us find the killer,” the chief said, walking across the room to Abigail. “Let’s talk in the conference room.” He glanced at her husband. “Both of you.”
David Woods put his arm around his wife and led her past Nicole. Alex didn’t miss the hatred in Mrs. Woods’s eyes or the shame coloring Nicole’s cheeks.
She had a criminal record? How was that possible?
The door closed to the conference room and Alex stepped closer to Nicole. “Nicole?”
She stood and paced to the front window, but didn’t offer an explanation.
“I’ve got some filing to do in the back,” Wendy said. “I’ll be a few minutes. Can you man the phones?”
“Sure,” Alex said, with an appreciative nod. She was giving Nicole privacy to explain herself to Alex.
At least he hoped she was going to explain herself. The heels of Wendy’s shoes clapped down the hall and the door to the records room closed.
As Alex studied Nicole, her long hair trailing down to the middle of her back, he wished she’d share the information without him having to push. But as the seconds ticked by he realized he wanted her to confess her past because she trusted him with her secrets.
“Please tell me,” he said.
“It was one time. It was my father,” she said. “He dropped the charges.”
“Why?”
When she turned around Alex read defeat in her eyes.
“It was a game,” she started. “His way of proving that he held all the power. He could send me to jail, or release me.”
“No, why did you attack him?”
“He had my little brother in a choke hold. I lost it and jumped on my father’s back. When that didn’t work, I grabbed a broom and started swinging.” She looked at Alex with pleading eyes. “Mom died when I was twelve and I took over the mother role for my little sister and brother. It was my job to protect them.” Her breath caught and she closed her eyes.
“Go on,” he said.
“When Beau was eleven he started acting out, challenging my father. On that day, I truly believed my father was going to kill him. When he finally let him go, Father marched into the kitchen and called the cops. He pressed charges against me. I sat in lockup overnight. The next day he dropped the charges. Beau stopped challenging him. He was afraid the monster would get me locked up for good.”
“Why didn’t you kids tell the police what was going on?”
“We did tell them! But they didn’t do anything. Most of our abuse was psychological and when he beat us he was sure to bruise us in places that weren’t exposed. He’d threaten us all the time. He told Beau he was going to take off with my little sister and Beau would never see her again, that Beau would be sent to an orphanage where they’d make him eat fried mud and clean toilets. He’d tell Addy he was going to smother me in my sleep and tell the police she did it. God, the things he used to say to us....”
She shook her head and turned her back to him. Alex sensed she fought back tears. He wished he could take her in his arms and hold her.
He knew the danger of such a gesture. He also knew this woman had suffered enough at the hand of violence. In that moment, he understood why she wanted to remove herself from the murder investigation.
“I never should have scolded you for wanting to run away,” Alex said. “I guess that make
s me a bully, just like your father.”
When she didn’t argue he wanted to crawl into a hole. “Where and when did this incident take place?”
“Ten years ago in Spokane, where we grew up.”
“I’ll track down the case report and speak with the officers involved. We’ll explain it to Abigail Woods.”
“No.” She pinned him with teary eyes. “I don’t want people knowing.”
“Knowing what? That you defended your brother from an abuser?”
She glanced back outside, but not before Alex recognized shame flooding her cheeks. That particular emotion was a familiar friend of his, as well.
He’d been dealing with years of his own shame, shame over not being there for the people he loved, both Jessica and his family. By running away from his stepmother he’d abandoned his father and brother. He’d always regret not coming home sooner to spend more time with Dad, precious time Alex didn’t know was running out.
“What your father did to your family was not your fault,” he said. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I have an arrest record. I was in the house at the time of Mr. Lange’s murder. According to Mrs. Woods, that makes me your prime suspect.”
“She’s devastated about the loss of her brother. Remember how you felt when your dad went after Beau? Abigail Woods just lost her little brother. She probably thought it was her job to protect him, too.”
“So you’re not going to arrest me? To follow procedure or whatever?”
“I have no grounds to arrest you, nor do I want to. You’re our best lead to finding Edward Lange’s killer. But after everything you’ve told me, I understand why you wouldn’t want to get involved.”
“Alex.” She stepped up to him and touched his jacket sleeve. “You were right. Mr. Lange was a good man. I meant it when I told the chief I want to help.”
Alex studied her eyes “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“It won’t be easy. We may have to revisit the crime scene.”
“I know, but as long as you’re there...”
He read trust in her eyes, and he suspected Nicole Harris was not one to trust easily. He suddenly felt the need to draw some boundaries.
