Another Life: Another Life Series #1

by Jasmine Denton

  She couldn’t believe that after all her running and hiding and secrecy, she was caught. She should’ve known better than to rile Julian up the way she did. Things like this were exactly why she rarely fought back when it came to him; she always lost. Always.

  The door opened and Detective Machado came inside, shutting it behind him. “Sorry about the wait,” he said. “I’ve been bringing your brother up to speed. For a cop, he catches on slow. A murderer lived under his roof for weeks and he was oblivious.”

  She rolled her eyes but didn’t answer. She’d seen enough cop shows to know she didn’t have to say a word.

  He pulled out a chair and motioned to it. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

  But she shook her head and remained in the corner. She caught a glimpse of herself in the two-way mirror, and she wondered if Sam was on the other side, watching. What did he think of her, now that this was out in the open? “You’ve wasted your time. I don’t know anything about what happened to him.”

  “I’ll tell you what I know,” he said, leaning against the table. “Innocent people don’t run.”

  She leveled a calm stare on his cold, prying eyes. “It’s perfectly normal for an eighteen-year-old to move away from home.”

  “The alibi you gave me was a sham. Julian’s housekeeper said that neither one of you were at his house until four a.m. And, by the way, several neighbors witnessed the very loud dispute you had with the victim just hours before the estimated time of death. Your own aunt thinks you’re guilty as sin.”

  “Well, she’s a bitch,” she shot back. “And you don’t have any real evidence.” She leaned closer as she enunciated each word. “Because I didn’t do anything.”

  Sam came into the room just then. Looking completely solemn and unreadable, his eyes travelled from her to the detective. “Mind if I have a word with my sister?” he asked. “Obviously we have a few things we need to clear up.”

  “I’m in the middle of a questioning,” Machado said, his face tightening with impatience.

  “Then let me question her,” he said. “Just for a few minutes. As a courtesy, since you came into my town and arrested my sister without even giving my department a heads up.”

  Looking at Cameron, he nodded. “Fine. Maybe a reality check from big brother will make you realize just how much trouble you’re in.”

  He left the room. As the door shut behind him, the air turned thick with tension. Alone with Sam, she felt like she would suffocate from the embarrassment.

  “Have a seat,” he said finally.

  “Why is it so important that I sit down?” she asked, heaving an exhausted sigh.

  He took a seat at the table and pointed to the other chair. “Please?”

  Reluctantly, she took the open seat and folded her hands together on top of the table.

  He studied her for another minute before he spoke, and it made her so uncomfortable she wished he would just get on with the yelling already. Instead, he said in a gentle voice, “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

  Yes, she wanted to. More than anything she wished she could tell him the entire story, but that required courage she’d never possessed. And the police station wasn’t the best setting for that conversation.

  “They think you murdered someone, Cameron.”

  “Do you think I did it?” she asked. “Do you think I’m guilty like he does?”

  He was speechless. His mouth tried to form words as he looked her up and down. “I’m a cop, okay? I look at the facts. And….” He opened the folder in front of him and started to read it again. “It doesn’t look good.”

  “Come on, Sam,” she said, trying to put on her most convincing face. “I’m no angel, but I’m not a murderer either.”

  But he wasn’t listening to her. His attention was on something he’d read in the file. She tensed up; trying to see what he was looking at, but his arm was blocking her vision.

  “Wait a second; the victim was Anne’s boyfriend?” He looked up at her, his eyes filled with so many questions that she wanted to squirm. “Why would they think you had anything to do with this?”

  She opened her mouth to explain, but no sound would come out. She wasn’t sure she could keep lying to him, but anything she said in this room could be used against her if the case ever went to trial, so she needed to tread carefully. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she just answered with a shrug.

  “Let’s just start at the beginning,” he said, pressing two fingers against his temple as if he had a headache. “Neighbors witnessed a fight around seven. What was it about?”

  Like before when she tried to speak, she couldn’t think up a quick enough response. Flashes from that night came back to her, she remembered the angry looks on their faces, and heard the shouts all over again. Swallowing hard, she struggled to focus on the present.

  Sam’s eyes bulged with disbelief. “Your silence only makes you look guilty. You’ve got to start talking.”

  “We always fought,” she said finally. “About everything. I was just a disappointment to them. That night the fight just got louder than usual, but it was no reason to kill him.”

  His face relaxed a little. Though he looked concerned she could tell he was suspicious, too. “Where did you go after the fight?”

  “I met up with a friend and we went to a club. I got completely trashed; the rest of the night is a total blur.” She read the signs of disappointment in his face and looked away.

  “What’s the next thing you remember?” he asked.

  Keeping her attention focused on her hands, she remembered stumbling upon Julian in a heated make-out session with some other girl. She’d stormed out to her car, where Allen had been waiting in the back seat. Closing her eyes, she remembered the feel of the knife against her throat, and his hateful voice demanding her to drive. None of those details could make it into this version of the story—no matter how much it might seem like the truth would save her. “I woke up at my friend’s house the next morning. Well, afternoon. Then I just…got sick of everything. I figured, why stay and fight with Anne and Allen all the time when I can come here and get judged by all of you?”

  He squinted a little, his lips parting to speak, when the door opened and interrupted him. This time, a tall, thin woman dressed in a designer pencil skirt and matching blazer waltzed in. Her heels clicked against the floor, announcing her presence as Detective Machado quickly hurried in after her. “This absurdity is over,” she stated, placing a hand on her hip. “You’re going to release my client immediately.”

  Sam and Cameron simply stared at the stranger, puzzled.

  “Your client?” Sam asked. “Who called you?”

  “Her husband,” Machado said bitterly, glaring at Cameron. “Left out any more details Miss Baker? Or is it Mrs. Stone?”

  She could feel Sam gawking at her long before she gathered the courage to look at his dropped jaw and narrowed, confused eyes. “You’re…married?”

  “You can have time to speak with her,” Machado said to the lawyer. “But she isn’t leaving the station. She’s our prime suspect.”

  The woman turned to Machado, her long blond hair spinning around her as she did. “I think that makes you pretty bad at your job, then. I’d like to know how you think an eighteen year old girl can beat a man in his forties to death. Just look at her. She’s skin and bones! Your evidence is circumstantial, at best and you have not one witness who actually witnessed anything. If you could charge her, you would have. So I suggest you stop this little charade before you embarrass yourself any more than you already have.”

  She turned back to Cameron and grabbed her arm with a petite, manicured hand. “Come on, sweetie,” she said, pulling her to feet. Without another word, she led Cameron out of the police station.

  Stunned, Cameron followed along, relieved to be out of that interrogation room, but feeling another sense of dread stir inside her.Once they were outside, the woman turned to Cameron and held out her hand. “I’m Lindsay, by t
he way.”

  Cameron shook the woman’s hand half-heartedly. “I don’t understand…Julian called you?”

  “Yes ma’am,” she said. “He says to give him a call, by the way.”

  “So what now?” Cameron asked.

  “Now, they move on with their investigation. They’ll leave you alone once they don’t find anything.” Narrowing her eyes on Cameron, she added in question, “Unless there’s evidence to find…in that case we would need to work up a defense. Are you particularly moody around that time of the month?”

  “No. I mean, there’s no evidence,” she said. She’d made sure to destroy her confession, and if Julian wanted to turned the bloody clothes in, he would’ve. Right now he just wanted to make her think he’d turn them in, but she suspected he wouldn’t.

  “Good.” She pulled a business card out of her pocket and handed it over. “Call me if Detective Machado bothers you again.”

  ***

  Sitting on her bed, Cameron drank vodka straight from the bottle as her mind replayed what had happened. Though her first instinct was to go straight to Julian’s hotel room and confront him, she decided to take some time and think of a strategy. Not that she was the mastermind, it was clear he had her upstaged in that department. While she’d been sitting on her bed, drinking and listening to podcasts of Sadie’s show, she’d come to the conclusion that Julian had put the cops on her trail just so he could be the one to swoop in and rescue her, so she’d be even further in his debt. And of course, he could call his lawyer off and leave Cameron out to dry any time he wanted. It seemed there was no end to his game.

  Suddenly, there was a short, loud rap on the door. Before she could answer, it burst open and Sam came in. Seeing the bottle of alcohol in her hand, rage swamped his features. He moved across the room quickly and grabbed the bottle away from her.

  “Hey, what the hell?” she exclaimed as he made a beeline for the sink. She leapt from the bed and followed after him. “Sam, don’t. Seriously!”

  Tipping the bottle upside down, he poured the contents down the sink, using one arm to hold her off and keep her from taking it back. Once it was empty, he threw it down and turned to her. “Now I think it’s about time you give me some real answers.”

  “I already told you everything,” she started, but he held his hand up to stop her.

  “No, you didn’t. You didn’t tell me you were married, or wanted by the police and I still have no idea why you turn to these damn bottles every time life gets a little hard. Feel free to start filling in blanks any time.”

  She narrowed her eyes into an angry glare. “Did you ever stop to think that there wouldn’t be any blanks if you’d bothered to be around at all in the last few years?”

  “I’m here now!”

  “It’s too late now!” she exclaimed.

  The back door opened and Chad came in, looking worried. “What’s going on in here? I can hear you yelling all the way outside.”

  “Cameron was just about to tell us all about her marriage.”

  Chad laughed as he looked from Sam to Cameron. Realizing this wasn’t a joke, he sobered. “Wait, what? You’re married?” he repeated. “You?”

  “And at what point in this marriage did you decide to come back here?”

  “Okay…stop saying that word! It’s freaking me out.” Trapped, she was left with no choice but to give them some explanation. “It was just…a mistake. I was stupid and impulsive.”

  “Who’s the guy? Are you guys separated or something?” Chad asked, still sounding puzzled. “Did you leave him?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Because I never wanted to marry him in the first place.”

  “Then why’d you do it?” Sam asked.

  She sighed, raking a hand through her hair. “I…I was drunk,” she admitted finally. “I barely remember doing it.”

  Sam’s eyes widened even more, the look of rage intensifying. “Are you kidding me?”

  “So nothing’s sacred to you, huh?” Chad said with a scoff.

  “Why are you guys making such a big deal about this? It is just a piece of paper.”

  “Chad, give us some privacy.”

  “But she—”

  “I mean it,” Sam said, louder this time.

  Reluctantly, he left out the door he came in. She felt a little relieved to only have to face one of them.

  Sam leaned a hand against the sink as he looked at her. “So, what’s the deal here? Were you pregnant or something?”

  “No,” she exclaimed, her voice coming out much too shrill to be taken seriously. “Why are we even talking about this? It’s no—”

  “If you say it’s no big deal, then your values are more screwed up than I thought.”

  His words struck her completely silent and still. Looking up at him, she wondered what he really thought of this. What he really thought, behind the anger and disappointment. Was he ashamed to have such a screw-up for a sister? Embarrassed in front of his police friends, too? She’d done nothing but cause trouble since the moment she came to town.

  “I mean, it’d be different if you were standing here telling me how much you loved this guy,” Sam said, ranting, trying to sort it all out. “That you couldn’t live without him or something. Or if he was here with you, taking the brunt of it all. But in all the time you’ve been here, I haven’t heard you say one word about some boyfriend or husband or anything! So, why are you married? And don’t try to tell me it’s because you were drunk, because I don’t buy it.”

  “Would you just stop?” she begged.

  “No, dammit. You can’t keep avoiding this! What the hell happened to while you were gone?”

  “Sam, just shut up!” she cried. “Okay? Just shut up.”

  Struck silent, he shook his head in disbelief at her outburst.

  “I get that my life doesn’t make much sense to you. But it’s my life, and my choices. And I’m not going to stand here and defend myself anymore. I made a mistake. That’s all you need to know.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “That’s all I need to know?”

  Cameron grabbed her keys from the rack and headed toward the door.

  “You think you can just keep running away?” he called after her. “We’re not done talking about this.”

  “Yes, we are.” She slammed the door shut behind her and hurried to her car before he could stop her.

  In a rage, she drove straight to Julian’s hotel and swooped into an open parking space. She marched up the stairs quickly and then banged on his door as loud as she could. She kept doing that until he pulled open the door. The second he did, she stepped across the threshold and slapped him across the face.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” she cried. “What were you trying to do with that little show you put on today? Sending the cops after me? Letting everyone know we’re married?”

  He just brought his hand to his face, touching his cheek with his fingertips. He didn’t look hurt, if anything he looked a little turned on. “I gave you fair warning.”

  “Why do you always have to be so vicious? You’ve ruined everything!”

  Suddenly, his amusement vanished. He cut his gaze to meet hers in an icy cold glare. “Good.”

  “This isn’t fair,” she said through clenched teeth. “You have no right to do this to me.”

  Unmistakable fury filled his features. “You want to talk about rights?” He grabbed her arm and yanked her inside the room, slamming the door shut behind them.

  “Let me go.” She tugged against him, trying to wrench free.

  His fingers dug into her arm, holding her in place. “I’ve stood by you for years. Every jam you landed yourself in, I bailed you out of it.” His eyes shone with rage and betrayal. “Who beat the shit out of that bastard whenhe wouldn’t keep his hands off you? I even covered it up when you lost your freaking mind and killed him! And what do you do?” He shook her, emphasizing each word with a hateful shout, forcing her to probe into their past. “What did you do to me, Cameron?
”

  “Julian, stop it,” she whispered, pleading. She couldn’t go there—it was another memory she couldn’t face.

  “You gave away the only thing that mattered. You gave away my son!” With a look of venomous hatred, he let her go with a shove, sending her tumbling back against the door. “And now you think you can just run away and start over? No way in hell!”

  “What was there to stick around for?” she spat, shoving him. “Or do you have no idea that you’re the worst fake-husband ever?”

  “This person you despise so much,” he motioned to himself for emphasis, “you created him. With your betrayals and cheating and drama. How does it feel to know you’ve created a monster?”

  She felt tears sting her eyes and she blinked them back, fighting to keep her voice steady and low. “This was never about being with me, was it? All you wanted was revenge.”

  “You hurt me a long time ago, Cammi. And I was trying to put it behind me, I really was. Then you ditched me for the last time.” He nodded, reinforcing his point. “So, yeah. I came to settle the score a little.”

  “Fine, you settled the score. We’re even. Now leave me alone.”

  He laughed. “You think we’re square? Not even close.” His eyes raked over her, searching her up and down with a look of scorn. “Now get out. I can’t even stand to look at you.”

  She winced—literally winced—for a reason she couldn’t understand. It didn’t matter how hard she tried to be tough; he could always hurt her.

  Shaking his head, he reached past her and yanked open the door, almost slamming it right into her shoulder. She dodged out of the way, bumping into him, but he ushered her out onto the sidewalk. “I want you to go, and I want you to spend every second knowing I can go to the police any time I want. Knowing that I can take your freedom away just like that.” He snapped his fingers, and then slammed the door in her face.

  For awhile, she just stood there, cut completely to the core. Stunned by his blatant show of hatred for her, she wondered how long he’d felt that way.