Finding Justice

by Rachel Brimble

  She tightened her fingers around his. “Jay, look at me.”

  He turned.

  “You’re clean. You have to let go of the past and move on. If you continue to beat yourself up over what you did or didn’t do, the drugs still control you. Surely that’s one of the first things they taught you in rehab.”

  He stared deep into her eyes. He wanted nothing more than to yell, “You’re right, I’m clean!” It wouldn’t be the truth. He wanted to smile and agree and revel in his success, but he’d never be free of his addiction—wasn’t sure he wanted to be—because once he claimed he was, then the narcotic knuckles could quite easily come knocking at his door once again.

  “I wish I could say that, but an addict is never clean. If they’re stupid enough to think differently, that’s the first step back.”

  She released his hand to clasp hers together at her abdomen. Her face seemed to shut down. Her jaw grew rigid. She met his eyes and her unshed tears glistened beneath the lights on the veranda above them. Her breast rose and she exhaled. “Tell me what happened after you realized cocaine wasn’t the road to success.”

  A new tension radiated from her and Jay turned his gaze back to the sky, apricot now bled into orange. She had every right to her anger and disappointment. Templeton in summer was beauty personified, yet Jay felt as though nothing but ugliness surrounded him. “I didn’t realize anything about the cocaine. I just got worse, taking more and more until the other band members kicked me out.”

  “They kicked you out after one of them introduced you to it? God, I’d like to kick their asses.”

  He huffed out a wry laugh. “I’m the only one to blame here. It was me who lost control, whereas they believed they could handle their use. Some nights I couldn’t string a sentence together, let alone sing.” Her hand slid over his and he held on. “I came back to Templeton, high as a kite and disappeared into the abyss.”

  “The abyss would be the drug haunts you know about?”

  “That’s where I spent pretty much every second for three weeks and two days after coming home. Before George rang my father telling him exactly where to find me. Dad hauled my ass into a rehabilitation center—”

  “Wait. George found you? How did he know where you were?”

  Jay turned away, as shame encompassed him like a familiar and debilitating cloak around his shoulders. “I’ll get to that part in a minute.” He swallowed. “Anyway, Dad hauled me into rehab quicker than I could put up a fight. Left me there. No visitors. No calls. Nothing.”

  “For how long?”

  “For as long as it took.”

  “Which was?”

  “Four months, two weeks and five days.”

  “Wow.”

  Jay grimaced. “Yeah, wow. I took the stuff for two years and it took me that long to even start the journey of staying sober. So you asked how George knew where to find me...” He blew out a breath. “Sarah told him. Sarah told him because I was with her. I did something really bad, Cat. Something that severed Sarah’s and my relationship completely.”

  He closed his eyes. “She saved my frigging life and I never had the chance to thank her. She called George, rather than my dad, to come and get me. She called George rather than the police. I owed her so much but she refused to see me after what I did. Refused to answer my calls, so after three months of trying, I left her alone.”

  She slowly pulled her hand from his and the hook in his chest pulled tighter. He opened his eyes and turned. The concern in her gaze had changed to wary accusation. “Sarah loved you. You were her best friend. What did you do?”

  Guilt and shame twisted in his gut like the spikes of a claw hammer, scraping and ripping his pride and self-worth to shreds, leaving the regret to bleed inside of him where it would never escape.

  “I went to her work.”

  “You went to the primary school?” Her eyes widened and she put her hand on her forehead. “You were high when you went there? Where there were kids?”

  He clenched his jaw, pursed his lips and nodded.

  “Why? Why would you do that? What did you want?”

  “God knows. I can’t remember going there or seeing Sarah. When I tried to contact her once I was sober, she wasn’t having it. So...” He let the sentence drift off as the helplessness he felt when Sarah hung up on him time and time again rose like a bitter pill in his throat. A sharp reminder he would now never be able to atone for putting her through the professional and personal stress of dealing with a drug addict in front of kids no older than seven or eight.

  He met Cat’s eyes, and her shock and disappointment blazed hard and hot in the semidarkness. “She must have been terrified, Jay. Terrified what you were going to do. She might have thought you had a gun, were violent, capable of hurting her or any one of those kids.”

  “I know.”

  “I can’t do this.”

  He turned. “What?”

  She pushed to her feet. “Have you any idea what that sort of humiliation and fear can do to a person?”

  He scrambled from the grass. “I do now, yes, but then—”

  “Stop. I can’t listen to it. It’s too much like my... It’s just too much.” She fisted her hands into her beautiful red hair and turned her back on him.

  Jay trembled with the effort it took to not wrap his arms around her. Tell her to stay, not to leave. To look at him like she had when they were having dinner, to touch his sleeve and wink and playfully tease him.

  She turned back around and optimism surged into his heart that she’d come back to him. Come back and sit and talk and...forgive. She shook her head.

  “I have to go to bed. Have to absorb what you’ve told me. How could you...” She stopped, held up her hands. “I’m going to bed. I love you. Always will. It’s just when I think about what that must have done to Sarah...”

  Her voice cracked and she put her hand over her mouth. It was too much. He couldn’t leave her standing there when he’d tipped her entire world on its axis. Jay stepped forward with his arms outstretched. She hesitated, tears streaking silver down her cheeks before coming forward. She reached her arms around him and the breath left his lungs. Her warm tears soaked into his shirt and Jay stood immobile as her anger and disappointment joined those of so many other people he hurt. It spread a pool deep in his soul that he hoped one day he’d be ready to lift the plug from and let drain away, drop by drop.

  “Will you take me in?” Her voice broke the silence.

  He pressed a kiss to her crown. “Sure. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

  She straightened in the circle of his arms and cupped her hand to his jaw. Gratitude pushed the air from his lungs. She smiled softly.

  “I’m not turning away from you. You do know that, right? I’ll still be here in the morning and we’ll find Sarah’s killer. This is just a lot for me to deal with...”

  Her words trailed off and turning his head, Jay kissed her palm, eased down her hand and held it tightly.

  “I know. It’s a lot. I’ve done a lot, but doing that to Sarah was probably the worst. I tried to apologize, tried to make it up to her, but she never forgave me.”

  She shook her head. “She did. She called you right before she died. She needed you. Don’t you see what that means?”

  His eyes scanned her face, her beauty, her fire, and hope burst behind his rib cage. “Whatever was going on with her was serious enough to forgive me and get me back in her life. Quickly.”

  She nodd
ed. “Exactly. She was into something so bad it got her killed. Whatever both of us have or haven’t done in the last seven years, from now on that’s our only focus, okay? Once we get whoever killed Sarah behind bars—”

  “You’ll go home.”

  She closed her eyes. “Jay—”

  “So I have to talk about this, Cat. I want you to know. I don’t want any secrets between us.”

  Her eyes snapped open and something akin to panic shot across them before she took her hand from his and focused on the cabin. “I need to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning...after I’ve had my visit with Bennett.”

  Surprise catapulted him upright. “You’ve managed to get an appointment with Bennett?”

  She nodded. “Nine o’clock. I need to sleep.”

  She took off before he could stop her, but Jay followed, marveling at her ability to make anything possible—and wondering what inside her caused such fear to appear in her eyes when he’d said he wanted no more secrets.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE TAXI PULLED UP outside the front double doors of the Templeton Cove police station and Cat delved into her bag for her wallet. She extracted a ten-pound note and handed it to the driver.

  “Keep the change.”

  She got out of the car and slammed the door. The facade of the tiny station looked almost quaint compared to the city station back in Reading. Yet it wasn’t quaint. It was a place that dealt with the same crimes, murders and thefts as anywhere else. She drew in a deep breath and tried to clear her mind.

  Still vibrating from the shock of Jay’s revelation last night, it was an impossible task. First the drugs and then his cruel breaking of Sarah’s trust.

  Cat had woken at seven and gone around the cabin like a burglar, tiptoeing around his house, desperately trying not to wake him. She’d snuck downstairs, trying and failing to avoid creaking floorboards as she’d walked to the kitchen. Once there, she’d taken a glass from the cupboard and then fumbled with it, thankfully finally managing to catch it like a clown at a kids’ circus, before it crashed to the floor.

  Jay. Her Jay. Sarah’s Jay.

  Aware of cops and civilians walking around her, Cat wandered away from the entrance. She was half an hour early despite killing time asking fruitless questions about Sarah at the convenience store and coffee shop. She pulled her cell from her bag and feigned interest in the blackened screen. Jay and what he’d done bounced around inside her head like a Ping-Pong ball.

  The reality of his going to Sarah’s school while high on drugs told her just how tightly his addiction had gripped him. The worst Julia had done was to turn up at police headquarters carrying a dilapidated bunch of daffodils, demanding she see her sergeant daughter on her birthday.

  Cat’s birthday had been a month before.

  She looked at the ground and waited for the memory to abate. Humiliation and fear of what her mother would do next had been paramount that day. No doubt the same emotions swept through Sarah at a more terrifying rate than Cat could contemplate. How could Jay have done that to her?

  She shook her head. No. Jay wasn’t Jay that day. She had to remember that and find the strength to listen to him. Jay was in recovery and had shared the explanation she demanded from him almost as soon as she’d see him. Instead of listening and acting like a friend and professional, she’d run like a coward because it was too painful, too close to her existence.

  Hitching her bag onto her shoulder, Cat tilted her chin. She wouldn’t do that again. Turning, she marched back toward the station entrance, continuing resolutely forward until she pushed open the door and headed for the reception desk. The duty sergeant greeted her with a smile warm enough to melt an ice-cream sundae and once more, Cat remembered she was no longer in the city.

  “Can I help you?” he asked.

  She smiled back. “I have a nine o’clock appointment with Inspector Bennett. I’m Sergeant Cat Forrester visiting from Reading.”

  “Well, nice to meet you, Sergeant. Take a seat. I’ll go let him know you’re here.”

  She sat down on one of the four plastic chairs lining the wall behind her and waited. She was impatient to get started, anticipation and hope jumped along her nerve endings. The early-morning sun shone through the vertical blinds beside her, lighting parallel lines across the gray tiled floor. The pale beige walls were scattered with posters telling Templeton residents to Stay Safe, Be Aware of Stranger Danger and Not All Visitors Are Nice Visitors. It was friendly, safe, trustworthy and Cat guessed Sarah’s murder was the first one the Cove had seen for years...possibly ever.

  The click of a side door opening turned her head and she immediately stood. The man coming toward her was tall, around six-three, maybe four, with short sandy-colored hair, pleasant, shining eyes and a nice smile. He held out his hand.

  “Sergeant Forrester, Inspector Bennett. Welcome to Templeton Cove.”

  She took his hand and his fingers clasped around hers firmly and with just the right amount of expected authority. She dipped her head and smiled. “Thank you, sir. I wish the circumstances were happier, but it’s nice to meet you.”

  His smile faltered as his eyes wandered over her face. Cop eyes. She knew what he was doing and instantly liked him for it. A new face was always one to be learned about. Who was the person behind the mask?

  After a moment, he gestured her toward the open door. “Shall we?”

  He led her through the busy but not particularly bustling station, past walnut-veneer desks scattered with loose papers and neatly stacked trays. As they walked, they passed several uniformed and non-uniformed officers who eyed her with curiosity before resuming their conversations or telephone calls. They reached his corner office and Bennett shut the door behind them, providing some semblance of quiet.

  “Have a seat, Sergeant.”

  The sudden and colder change in his tone alerted Cat to the reality of Bennett’s feelings about her being there. His friendly greeting appeared to have been little more than a smokescreen when they were in reception. Smiling inwardly, Cat sat down. That was fine. They could play this however he wanted, but she would definitely leave knowing more than when she arrived.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  He lowered his admirably fit and athletic physique, considering he must have been in his late forties, into the seat behind his desk. He stared at her expectantly. “So I understand you knew our victim and want in on the investigation?”

  Cat sat up straighter. “I’m not here to step on anyone’s toes, sir. I’m here to help.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes, I’ve known Sarah since—”

  “Yes, you said on the phone. You came here for how many summers?”

  “Eight. I was twelve the first time.”

  “You spent a lot of time with Miss Cole every year?”

  Cat smiled. “All the time.”

  “I see.”

  He stood and Cat turned in her swivel chair to watch him walk to the windowed wall of his office. He stared out at his team. Her gaze slid past his shoulder to the incident board of Sarah’s murder pinned up in the far corner. Impatience hitched up a notch inside her. Now she’d seen it, Cat could barely sit still for wanting to tear out of the office and devour what information his team had accumulated.

  When it appeared that Bennett wasn’t going to add anything else, Cat cleared her throat. “A close friend of Sarah’s rang me asking for my help, sir, and I couldn’t ignore it.” She hesitated. Should
she tell him that close friend was also one of his suspects? Not yet. Deciding to wait to see how this meeting panned out, Cat continued. “I knew Sarah. I know I can offer something to this investigation others can’t. If you’re willing to let me see what you have, I’ll do everything I can to help solve the case.”

  He turned and one eyebrow arched in blatant disbelief. “You really expect me to give you free reign to start poking about in an investigation you have zero authority to be a part of?”

  She swallowed as Mr. Friendly Inspector well and truly disappeared under the cheap carpet tiles at her feet. She raised her hand as though taking an oath. “You have my word I will work entirely with you. Anything I find out, no matter how small, you’ll be the first to know.”

  With his gaze still locked on hers, Bennett walked back to his desk and sat down. “If you came here for eight years since you were twelve, pardon me, Sergeant, but you’re knocking the wrong side of twenty-five, so I’m guessing you hadn’t seen our victim for a while.”

  Ignoring the jibe at her appearance, Cat lifted her shoulders. “I hadn’t seen Sarah for seven years, but that doesn’t make my involvement obsolete. The mutual friend who called me for help knew her forever and Sarah rang him the day she died.”

  His color darkened and his gaze darted over her face. “Is that so?”

  Cat tilted her chin at his belligerent tone. “Yes.”

  He leaned his elbows on the desk and threaded his fingers. “Well, that’s very interesting because we checked her land and cell records and spoke to everyone she rang that day. There are no friends unaccounted for. So who is this friend exactly?”

  Here goes nothing. “Jay Garrett, he lives—”

  “At the top of Clover Point, at the top of the place where the victim drew her last breath. You’ve been talking to a bloody suspect.”