by Stone, Mary
“Lucky you. Do you think he’s crazy?”
Autumn winced a little at the word. “We try to avoid that word in the professional circles,” she reminded him and shrugged. “I won’t know that until I talk to him.”
“Just be careful. He’s dangerous, whatever he is.”
Autumn couldn’t argue with that. “What do you mean you got ‘thrown out’ of court? What did you do?”
“Nothing!” Aiden’s frustration ramped up again, but he was able to let it go, at least mostly. There was still a line of tension at the corners of his mouth. “When the plea came in, the press went wild and the judge ordered them evicted and—”
Autumn laughed. “And the bailiffs thought that you were with the press?” She saw the expression on his face and just about rolled in her chair. Eventually, the absurdity of the situation caught up to Aiden too, and he began to smile. A chuckle soon followed.
“They refused to look at the badge. When the judge orders everyone out, they throw out everyone. I decided the easier solution was to come back to the office.”
In a moment, they were both letting off some needed steam through laughter.
A girl could do worse.
38
Winter swallowed again. The only thing harder than seeing Justin would have been not seeing him. This was something she had to do.
The jail doors rattled as a guard opened them from the inside. She was escorted into a small conference room. The sound of her shoes on the tile echoed in the sterile hallway as she was shown to a door that was closed and locked. Her escort looked in through a window and nodded before shoving a key into the lock. The great tumblers fell with an audible click and the door opened.
Winter walked into the room to find Justin already seated. He was wearing the same sort of chains that Arkwell had, wrists chained to the table, ankles to the chair and another chain that ran between them.
As she walked in, Justin looked up, and for a moment, there was confusion in his face, as if he didn’t recognize her. A look of recognition and surprise lit his face and his smile got bigger. This was a real smile. Even the look in his eyes softened as his entire face relaxed. He was genuinely happy to see her.
“There she is,” Justin said slowly, as if in wonder at some miraculous event. “My dear half-sister. I was wondering if you were going to come and say hello.”
“Hello, Justin.” Her voice went high, like a little girl’s, and didn’t sound like her at all. She cleared her throat and perched on the edge of the chair facing him.
“Miss me?” Justin tilted his head as he asked the question, as though the answer meant a great deal to him.
“For a very long time,” Winter said quietly, struggling to swallow down the emotion that left her throat thick with unshed tears. “More than you know.”
“Well, I’m here now. How about we go get a drink and catch up on old times?”
Winter caught her breath and looked down at the hands entwined in her lap, fighting not to cry. God, how he hated her. “I thought you were killed that night.”
“I was.” When Winter looked up, Justin’s smile was gone. His face seemed blank. Empty. Like he wasn’t even home. “Justin died that night. Jaime Peterson was born. It was the first time I became someone else. Grandpa taught me how.”
“He wasn’t your Grandpa,” Winter shot back more vehemently than she’d intended.
“You’re not my sister,” Justin countered. His smile was back, but now it was mocking, snide, cruel. His eyes had narrowed and grown cold. “If you can call yourself my sister, then I can call Grandpa my grandfather.”
“Why did you do…?” Winter tried to find a way to ask him about the killings, the things he’d done.
“I think I’m supposed to have my lawyer present, Agent Black.” He shook his head, clucking as though he were a parent chiding a child. “You kept that name, even when you knew the truth?”
“You refused a lawyer,” Winter reminded him. “The state forced one on you because the judge didn’t think you were mentally stable enough to defend yourself.”
“I find that I like having a go-between with the feds. He really pisses you people off. I can see that. It’s fun to watch, really.”
“Of course I kept the name,” Winter said, referring to his previous question. “It’s my name. Bill gave it to me when he kept me as his own.”
“Black is not your name. You’re not part of this, and you’re not part of the family either.” Justin was sitting upright as far as the chains would let him, so vehement in his words that spittle formed at the corner of his mouth. He bit the words off savagely. “He wasn’t your father! He only married your whore mother. He lied about you to legitimize you.”
“She was your mother too,” Winter said through clenched teeth. “I remember when she was carrying you, when her belly swelled with you inside of it. I was so excited to have a baby brother or sister.”
“She was. So what? You’re my half-sister, after all. Congratulations, come give me a hug.” His hands opened up as far as the chains would allow. “Let’s be friends, we can…listen to records, order a pizza, maybe…what…draw pictures of teachers we don’t like?” He yanked hard on the chains on his wrists, but they refused to move under his efforts.
Despite her experience with prisoners, Winter pulled back a little at the force of the movement.
“Justin, I—”
“I’m Jaime!” he screamed, and this time, Winter was able to keep her composure. She didn’t even flinch.
“Jaime, I—”
“How many years did you spend doing that?” he asked, his voice turning into a little boy’s. “How many friends, how many boys did you while away the hours with on your bed playing with…records? Me?” He leaned forward so he could thump his fist into his chest. “I hunted. I crawled through mud and barbed wire like a special forces marine! That was my childhood fun.” He lifted his head and faced her with a certain pride. “I shot rifles and learned how to handle a knife. Now, you’re the FBI agent. Who have you shot? I mean, besides old men like Grandpa? Him you murdered in cold blood.”
“I didn’t kill him.” The words were out of her mouth before she could take them back. “I wanted to be the one who pulled the trigger, but it wasn’t me.”
She didn’t know why it was important for him to know that.
Winter fought the memories, not wanting to relive that day with Douglas Kilroy and his ominous pronouncement that Justin was still alive. Justin’s version of events was deeply flawed and wrong, but Winter was suddenly tired. It seemed that her little brother had died all those years ago, after all. This person across the table from her wasn’t Justin. This was Jaime. He only looked like Justin.
She stood up, ready to go.
Justin winced as though he’d been hit. He lowered his head, dropping his face into his hands, moaning.
“What’s wrong?” Winter asked but made no move to get closer. Justin or Jaime, he was still a violent person. He only moaned harder, his hands gripping his forehead, knuckles turning white with the strain.
His hands dropped to the table and Justin stared at the chain. He pulled it once, twice, very gently. He seemed surprised to see his hands caught like that. He looked around the room in a complete panic. Then his eyes settled on her. They were larger, softer. They looked fearful and confused.
“Winter?” His voice had changed too. It was quieter, pitched differently so that he sounded younger. It was the voice of a child. “Winter?” He pulled the chain again, harder, his face a mask of horror. “What…why are my hands chained? Why am I in here?”
Winter sat down heavily, her body refusing to move. “I don’t—”
“Where is Raff?” Justin wailed. “I want Raff!” He pulled the chains rapidly. The clanking of the metal as it ran through the eyebolt was deafening.
“Justin!” Winter yelled, rising from the chair.
Justin stopped, and the look he gave her was pure hurt and sadness. “Winter? Will Grandpa be
mad?”
“What do you mean?”
“Grandpa gets mad when someone calls me ‘Justin.’ He says my name is ‘Jaime’ now. When he gets mad, he…he hurts me. Sometimes he hurts others because of me, and he makes me watch. If my hands are tied, I can’t put them over my head, and those are the hits that hurt the worstest.”
Winter stared at her baby brother. Was this an act? Or real? She just didn’t know.
“No one is going to hurt you, not anymore.” Winter sank back into her seat, confused. She found herself desperate to console him. A moment ago, she’d never wanted to see him again.
“Do you promise?” Justin asked her in such a child-like way it broke her heart.
“Absolutely. Kil…that man you called Grandpa, he’s dead. He can’t hurt you ever again.”
“Promise?” Justin asked again, a single tear sliding down his face.
“Promise,” Winter said gently.
“Hope to die?” Justin asked. With the last word, his smile grew and widened on his face. This time, it didn’t reach his eyes. It was predatory, cold, cruel. “Do you, dear sister? Do you hope to die?” His voice had transformed into something hard, harsh, and growling.
“No,” Winter said, stumbling upright and taking a step backward. “No.”
“Too bad.” Justin looked down at his chains. “Just as well, though, not much I can do about it in here.” He cocked his head to one side. “Being Jaime Peterson was the first person I had to become. It wasn’t the last. Sometimes, I had to be many people. Sometimes, I had to be a girl. Grandpa did a lot to me, Winter. He hurt me in ways I can’t even remember. I survived, though. By god, I survived.”
“Justin…” Winter couldn’t think of a thing to say after that. The transformation was so startling and so abrupt. “I’m…sorry.”
Her mind raced, wanting to say more, do more, fix him somehow, but Cameron Arkwell’s voice telling her that there was unfinished business that “Baby Preacher” was trying to finish ran through her head. What was it he’d said? That Kilroy must have loved Justin to take him away like that? Winter wanted to help Justin, wanted to have her little brother back, but she couldn’t help but wonder if this was all play-acting.
“Me too,” Justin said, staring at his wrists. “Me too.” He looked up at her again, his head tilted and his eyes bright and distant, as though he was looking at something far away. “Ever wonder what would have been different if you hadn’t…” he exploded in fury and hate, his chains straining as he tried to get up, “if you hadn’t taken a nap in the hallway?!”
The guards had had enough. They stepped in and pulled Justin back down to a seating position.
“Miss, you need to come with me.” A third guard touched her arm in concern, drawing her away. He escorted her out even as Justin screamed and fought the guards who were trying to calm him down.
The door closed behind her, muffling the sounds of struggle.
Winter stood in the hallway, shaking. She felt clammy and cold, as though she’d absorbed the prison itself in the last hour and carried the bars, the desperation within her. The raw feeling of being caged clawed at her stomach, making her sick. For a moment, she debated on finding a bathroom to throw up in, or to fight the urge until she got out of the prison walls.
The nearest bathroom won.
39
“Parrish!” Noah shouted and barreled toward Aiden’s office.
Aiden saw him coming and stepped aside with a magnanimous gesture to precede him into the room.
“Did you hear?” Noah accosted him without preamble.
“Hear what?” Aiden asked, taking a moment to shut the door after giving Noah a quizzical look.
Noah took a breath and smelled a trace of perfume in the air. He stopped mid-sentence and turned toward Aiden. Noah didn’t think the man would wear a lavender scent. Interesting. “I’m not interrupting anything important, am I?”
“No. I just got back a few minutes ago. Have a seat.” Aiden gestured to the chairs in front of the desk before taking his own, leaning back to regard Noah somewhat uneasily.
Noah sat, but the scent was stronger here. It suddenly clicked why the aroma seemed so familiar. “Was Autumn just in here?”
“Yeah.” Was it his imagination or did Aiden hesitate a little before answering? “She came to see me because she’s been assigned to assess Justin.”
Noah’s leg jumped, moving up and down with restless energy as he leaned forward to speak, trying to pull himself under control and failing greatly. “He’s going the insanity route. Just like you thought.” He hated when Parrish was right.
Aiden held up a hand. “I know, Noah.” He looked weary to the core. “I was there.”
“At the arraignment?”
“Yeah. I was in the courtroom when the plea came in.”
Noah didn’t tell Aiden why he hadn’t also attended. He’d been sitting on Winter, trying to keep her away.
“Did they set a trial date?”
“I don’t know yet,” Aiden confessed. “I’m waiting to hear. They cleared the court and hauled the little shit away before additional business could be done.”
Noah pinched the skin between his eyes. “Don’t let Winter hear you call him that.”
It had been a slip of the tongue, which wasn’t like the behavioral analysis leader. Normally, he held a tight filter on his thoughts.
Aiden nodded. “I’ll be more careful. I’m just worried.”
“About what? About Justin being found insane?”
“Yes.” Aiden leaned forward to place his hands on his desk, the chair snapping back upright with a creak. “He’s playing the system. He’s hoping for a lighter sentence in a clean, quiet hospital somewhere so he can play the system even more and be released before he’s thirty.”
Noah sat upright, his jittery leg stilling. “The scary thing is, that’s a possibility. He’s a killer. There’s enough DNA and other evidence that this should be an open and shut case, but it won’t be. Will it?”
“I don’t think so.” Aiden shook his head. “And with a judge already having to force an attorney on him, he’s already laid the groundwork for mental incompetence.”
Noah groaned, covering his face with his hands, giving it a hard scrub. “You’re right. He’s playing us, and worse, there’s not a damn thing we can do about it.”
“And just our luck, most legal aid types are the over-worked recent grads who are trying to get some experience before moving on to better things, but this one…” Aiden waved his hand in a helpless gesture.
“This one figured out he was in a losing position and decided to make the most of it. He’s just making a name for himself, using Justin as a launching pad,” Noah groused. He hung his head and smelled Autumn’s perfume again. “Autumn is on it?”
Was he seeing things or did the magnanimous Aiden Parrish just blush? “She’s on the case, if that’s what you mean.”
Interesting. “What else would I mean?” Noah teased. He simply couldn’t let this chance pass by. It was kind of nice to see Aiden flustered, even though that wasn’t what Noah had meant. Aiden taking it in a different direction showed what he was thinking, more than answering Noah would have. It appeared that Aiden misunderstood his smile too.
Aiden shot him a look. “We talked about the case. She was just here to talk about Justin. That’s all.” When Noah just blinked at him, he scowled. “What? So, she waited in my office for me. It’s not like I have a big waiting room out there like a doctor’s office. She had to sit somewhere.”
“I imagine she did.” Noah kept his face carefully neutral.
“Don’t start on me.” Aiden pointed a warning finger at Noah.
Noah raised his hands in surrender. “All I said was ‘Autumn is on it,’ meaning she’s giving the assessment to Justin. That was all I meant.”
Aiden narrowed his eyes. “If you say so.”
Noah dropped the joking and went back to the subject at hand. “No chance of her being accused of any
thing because of her friendship with Winter?”
“No. She’ll just be one of the several who’ll do evaluations, and Justin’s lawyer had no problem with her doing the assessment.”
“Good.” Noah sat back and linked his hands behind his head.
“Good.” Aiden said the word a bit more forcefully than needed, giving an emphasis where none was required. After a pause, he sighed. “If anyone can get to the heart of this, it’s Autumn.”
“She’s good,” Noah agreed. “Smart. Very smart.”
Aiden nodded, sitting back in the chair again until it was leaning against the wall behind him. “I’m sure she’ll get to the heart of Justin’s plea, then we’ll see if he’s sane enough to stand trial.”
“I’ll let you get back to work.” Noah stood and walked out without looking back at Aiden, slowing as he quietly pulled the door to behind him. “We might have one bad guy off the streets, but we have dozens more to find.”
“There will always be bad guys,” Aiden said as the door clicked shut between them.
He was right.
That part of life would never end.
40
Winter sat cross-legged with a fresh cup of tea. She was taking a few more days before she returned to work, time to decompress and reclaim her life. The interview with Justin still stayed with her, though it was two days ago already.
The boxes with all the papers were gone. The obsession with finding everything she could about Kilroy’s relationship to her, and more importantly, to Justin was gone. She took a sip of her tea, looking at the lights flashing on the Christmas tree. They’d settled for a fake tree. It was too late in the season to find a really good live one. The lots had already been picked clean.
It was silly to buy one since they were seldom home anyway. To have a tree in the middle of the living room with miles of lights and tawdry, shiny decorations seemed ridiculous. It was also pretty and comforting in a way that made her think of childhood and home. The good parts of those memories.
