Addison looked at him. “So, what happens now?”
Though her eyes were red and puffy, tears still darkening her thick lashes, she seemed okay, surprisingly okay, considering the circumstances. Her courage never ceased to amaze him. “You have to talk to me. At least, try to answer my questions so we can stop the killer and Brandon, whether or not they turn out to be one and the same.”
She nodded and sucked in a shaky breath, then stepped back. “What do you want to know?”
Ever since he’d seen the scar on her back, and Maris had alluded to Brandon abusing her, Jace had wanted to ask. “What happened to your back?”
“I’ll tell you, but can we sit down first?”
“Of course.” He accepted the request for what it most likely was, a ploy to allow her a moment to gather her thoughts or her courage, maybe both. He had no doubt she’d find the strength she needed to do what came next. It seemed she always did. He waited for her to sit on the edge of the bed, then pulled the chair close enough to sit face-to-face with her. “Do you want something to drink first—water, maybe?”
She shook her head and lowered her gaze.
“Tell me.”
“It was Brandon.”
Anger like he’d never known coursed through him.
“We’d had a flood in the kitchen, and someone from the insurance company called the house. They needed information to process the claim, easy enough for me to answer their questions rather than bothering Brandon at work. I wrote down the information they needed and told the woman I’d call her back.” Her breath hitched. “I’d just started to shuffle through some papers on his desk when he walked in. I didn’t even know he was there. He snuck up behind me, grabbed me, told me if he ever found me in his office or going through his papers again, he’d kill me. Then he drew a knife along my back, fairly deep.”
Her hands trembled wildly, but she didn’t shed a single tear. “I promised him I’d never do it again and apologized up and down. I think the only thing that saved me in the end was the fact I’d written down what the woman had asked for, proof I wasn’t lying to him.”
That man would never lay a hand on her again, and that was a vow Jace had every intention of keeping.
“He left me there like that while he went into the other room to call someone. When he was done, he came back, dragged me to the car and took me to a house with a small clinic attached. It was in a very bad neighborhood, and I’m not even sure the man we saw was really a doctor. Brandon ordered him around and insisted he stitch me up with only a minimal scar, bad enough to ensure I remembered my promise, but not bad enough to be unattractive to him. Why should he suffer for my wrongs?”
Sensing she was done talking, whether or not the story ended there, Jace rubbed a thumb back and forth over her fingers, then brought her hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. “I’m sorry.”
She frowned. “What for?”
A million things, but the one he most regretted was burying his head in the sand while Brandon abused his power and used it to hurt whomever he pleased. To hurt Addison. To possibly hurt Jennifer. “For not stopping him sooner.”
“I’m sorry I accused you of being involved in his crimes. I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t even know you.”
“You were right not to trust me...”
She stiffened.
After all, he hadn’t even managed to keep his own wife safe. She’d died because of him, because he hadn’t had the courage to turn to God instead of a bottle, hadn’t had the strength to go home and deal with his problems instead of drowning them at a bar. “You didn’t know me, and if I’m going to be honest, that was a big part of the problem. Everyone assumed I was involved in what he was doing. And I’m not going to lie. It hurt. Badly. People I’d known my entire career, longer in some cases, and they looked at me like I was a criminal. So I walked away, and in doing so, allowed him to continue unimpeded.”
“That’s not true. What could you have done?”
What could he have done? The question had tortured him since the day he’d resigned. He’d allowed Brandon to tarnish his good name and ruin his reputation. Brandon had cost him a career he’d loved, and Jace had done nothing.
And while he shouldered the blame for sitting in a bar while his wife was killed, though he had not one single shred of proof that Brandon had anything to do with her murder, he still couldn’t help but think that if he had stopped Brandon, he might have saved her. Could he have? The answer still eluded him.
Brandon had too much power, too much influence. People feared him, and no one dared cross him. How had Jace missed that? The man was supposed to have been a friend. How could Jace have misjudged his true nature so badly?
“Brandon manipulates people, Jace. He surrounds himself with two kinds of people, those who go along with him and his schemes, and those who are truly good people. The kind of people who expect him to be what he appears to be on the surface, the kind who don’t look for deception in their friends, the kind who are quick to trust. He manipulates them, lies to them and makes them believe he’s genuine.”
“For what purpose? Why not just align himself with criminals like himself?”
“Because he’s smart. Because he can get away with doing whatever he wants while good people vouch for him. Brandon Carlisle is not a good man.”
Wasn’t that the understatement of the year. “I wish I could go back and change the past, but I can’t. All I can do now is ask forgiveness and pray for better judgment going forward.”
She nodded.
Okay, this was going to be painful. “Thanks to Maris. She had the courage and the character to stand up and do what neither of us could.”
“I owe her a tremendous apology.”
“So do I, it seems.” And he would offer it the minute he saw her. She’d earned his gratitude and his respect. Seemed he had his own lessons to learn about forgiveness and judging people.
Maris had been young and had implicated innocent people in her attempt to stop Brandon. While that was wrong, and hopefully she’d learned from the experience, her heart had been in the right place, and at least she’d found the courage to stand up for what she believed was right.
Phoenix, who’d been lying on the floor beside the bed, lurched to his feet and barked.
“Get down and stay there.” He tucked Addison between the bed and the chair, grabbed his gun from the nightstand and pressed his back against the wall beside the window, kicking himself for having left it open.
A car door slammed. Then another.
Jace chanced a quick peek from behind the curtains. A police cruiser sat in the driveway, and two officers stood beside it, looking at the house. One of them looked over his shoulder and nodded toward a car parked across the street. A silhouette sat in the driver’s seat, but Jace couldn’t make out any features, couldn’t even discern if it was a man or a woman. Brandon?
Phoenix barked again and jumped up, his front paws landing on the windowsill.
“Phoenix, no. Down, boy.”
The big dog dropped instantly and looked at Jace.
“Addison, take Phoenix and go into the bathroom. Now. And stay low.”
“Come on, boy.” Addison obeyed instantly, scrambling toward the bathroom door with Phoenix beside her, keeping her head down.
“Lock the door and stay there until I come back up.”
She nodded.
“Phoenix, stay.”
Once they were secured inside the bathroom, Jace started across the room, then paused. Thinking better of answering the door with a loaded weapon, he dropped the pistol onto the nightstand beside the bed.
The peal of the doorbell shattered the strained silence.
Jace dialed Connor’s number as he jogged down the stairs. If they were arresting Addison again, she’d need the lawyer present when she arrived at the po
lice station. No answer. He briefly considered ignoring the door, grabbing Addison and going on the run, but he might be putting her in even more danger that way. He dialed Connor again. “Come on, Connor, pick up, man.”
His stubbornness where Maris was concerned now cost him dearly. If not for his own grudge, he’d have her number in his phone. As it was, who else could he call? The lawyer. He dialed the number. When Austin’s voice mail came on, Jace blurted a quick message and hung up. Now what? Nothing. He trusted no one else. He was on his own.
Wait. That’s not true. For the second time since Jace fell into a bottomless well of despair, he prayed with all his heart. Prayed for forgiveness, for strength, for courage, and most of all, he prayed for Addison’s safety.
He stuffed the phone into his pocket, wishing he hadn’t left his gun behind, and ripped the door open.
The two officers stood on the front porch. The older one stood tall, his gaze level and confident. His younger partner kept glancing over his shoulder, sweat running in rivers down his face.
Divide and conquer? Possibly.
“What can I do for you gentlemen?”
The older officer shoved him back into the room, stepped in after him, waited for his partner to cross the threshold, then slammed the door behind him. “Don’t play games with me, Montana.”
Jace swallowed any argument and held his hands in front of him, palms forward. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Is there something I can help you with, Officer?”
“Turn around and put your hands on the wall.”
“What?” He had to be kidding.
“You’re under arrest. I said turn and put your hands on the wall, and I won’t say it again.” He shoved Jace toward the wall at his side.
“Arrest? Me? For what?” Jace stumbled and reached out a hand to catch himself.
“Did you just take a swing?”
“What?” What on earth could they be arresting him for? Had another anonymous tip come in? Was the killer, Brandon or someone else, trying to get him out of the way so he could get to Addison?
“You saw that, right, Koenig?”
The younger officer took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow with his arm. “Huh?”
His partner shot him a glare. “I said, you saw him just take a swing at me when I tried to arrest him. Right?”
“Oh...” Koenig fitted his hat back on and glanced at Jace, then quickly averted his gaze.
Great, no help there.
“Koenig.” That one word held not only a warning, but a not-so-veiled threat.
“Uh-huh.” He nodded, keeping his gaze glued to the floor.
Decision time. If Jace let the officers take him, Addison would be left with only Phoenix for protection. If Brandon or the killer wanted her, they’d get her, and Phoenix would most likely die protecting her. If it was Jace that Brandon was after, he might leave Addison alone until Connor showed up. Fight or comply? Stand my ground or run? God, please help me. Please stand with me and grant me the wisdom to make the right choice.
The older officer grabbed his shoulder and pushed him toward the wall. “Last warning. Hands on the—”
Jace whirled, shoved a small console table toward the officer and turned to run.
Two-hundred-plus pounds plowed into Jace’s back, taking him down hard.
His head slammed against the floor. Blackness encroached.
The officer’s knee dug into his back, pinning him down.
Jace swung behind him, wrapped an arm around the man’s leg and yanked it up, knocking the man off balance as he tried to roll.
Koenig fell on him, pinned him back down with a knee on his shoulder, stronger than Jace would have expected.
They cuffed his hands behind his back, then yanked him up off the floor by his cuffed hands.
His shoulders screamed in protest. Rage coursed through him. He shoved it aside. No time for that. Focus. His head swam. Blood flowed from a cut on his forehead, impeding his vision.
The officers each had an arm, caging him between them as they dragged him toward the door.
He had to escape. Had to warn Addison. Had to get Connor.
Koenig opened the front door and they hauled him through.
The car that had been parked across the street was gone. Maybe Brandon had left? Maybe it hadn’t even been him. A shove from behind caught Jace off guard, and he stumbled. The officers released him, and he tumbled down the porch steps to the walkway.
The older officer leaned over him. “Mr. Carlisle would like to have a word.”
Dazed and confused, Jace wasn’t able to fight as they hauled him up and shoved him into the back of the patrol car. If Brandon intended to meet him somewhere, Addison was probably safe for the moment. Unless Brandon wasn’t the killer.
Surely, she’d have tried to reach Maris by now. Connor would get to her. And if he couldn’t, he’d send someone to protect her.
Jace’s head rocked with the motion of the car. His stomach turned over. He should have dealt with Brandon in the first place, should have faced his problems head-on, with the conviction and confidence that God would help him through if he did the right thing. Regret weighed heavily.
He jerked himself upright. No way was he giving up. Maybe he’d walked away last time because the time wasn’t right. Maris had tried to take him down. There hadn’t been enough evidence to go after Brandon. But now... Maybe now was different. Maybe this had been God’s plan all along.
Jace sat up straighter, working to clear the fog. He had to get his head clear. Addison. Her smile filled his mind. Even in his vision, despite the smile, sadness filled her eyes. He had to get to her. He had to protect her. He had to keep her safe. Because Addison Keller was an amazing woman, a strong woman who wouldn’t rest until Brandon was put away this time, no matter what happened to Jace. And Maris would help her, would stand by her side as she always had, even when it meant backing off and giving her space to figure out what she needed. And Connor would, of course, look after both of them.
Despite the comfort that thought brought, he couldn’t deny the absolute truth. He didn’t want anyone else to stand at Addison’s side. He wanted to do it himself. It had been a very long time since he’d known someone like her, someone he could admire and trust, someone he wanted to share his life with, build a future with. To love. His heart stopped. Love. Did he really love Addison? He did, he realized, with all of his heart. The revelation came with all of the pain and regret that they’d never get a chance to explore that love.
The car stopped, bringing another wave of nausea.
The officers dragged him from the back seat.
Then again, maybe God had given him a second chance after all.
His legs buckled. Sheer determination kept him on his feet.
“So we meet again, Jace.” Brandon slunk from the shadows like the monster he was, holding a gun out in front of him aimed squarely at Jace’s chest. “I tried, you know, tried to make you see reason, get you to join me. You could have had a good life, but no. No, you wanted something more, it seems. Was she worth it, Jace? Was my wife worth sacrificing yourself for?”
Yes! The knowledge came with no hesitation. Jace stood straighter, his hands cuffed behind him, blood stinging his eyes.
“Freeze!”
Connor?
Jace read his intention in the instant before Brandon fired.
He dropped and rolled.
Another gunshot, and Brandon went down. Officers swarmed around him, blocking Jace’s view.
Koenig knelt over Jace. “Are you all right?”
Bright lights burned Jace’s eyes.
“Jace?” Koenig grabbed his arm. “Jace? Are you all right? Are you hit?”
“What?” He tried to roll over. Needles pinched every inch of his skin. “What?”
No. Not needl
es. Glass. Shards of glass from broken bottles scattered across the parking lot.
“I need a medic,” Koenig yelled to someone Jace couldn’t see beyond the blinding light.
“Jace!”
Koenig moved away.
“Jace.” Connor dropped to his knees in the carpet of glass at Jace’s side. “Ah, man, Jace, are you hit? How bad?”
“Connor?” Jace struggled to sit up. Pain tore through his left shoulder. He must have dislocated it when he fell. He focused on it, using it to pull him back from the brink of darkness. “What?”
“It’s all right. Everything’s all right. We got him.”
“Brandon?” Jace struggled to sit up.
Connor kept a hand on his arm. “Don’t move. The paramedics are here now.”
Jace dismissed them. “I’m okay. Just help me up.”
“Were you hit?”
He took stock. His shoulder would definitely need attention at some point, but not just yet. “No. I don’t think so.”
“Your head.”
“That was from before. I hit it.” With his head beginning to clear, questions bombarded him. One more than any other. “Is Addison okay?”
“She’s still home, and we have someone watching the house, but we haven’t gone in. We wanted to make sure we had him first, just in case he had anyone keeping an eye on her.”
“I have to get to her.” He wanted to be the one to tell her it was over, wanted to see the relief in her eyes, wanted to hold her and comfort her.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Connor gripped his good arm and helped him to his feet, brushed some of the clinging glass away, and studied his eyes.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Activity swarmed around him, mostly silhouettes against the bright backdrop of spotlights. “What happened?”
Koenig appeared from behind one of the lights and uncuffed him. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
Jace nodded and cradled his injured arm against him, thankful for the blessed relief that came with getting his hands out from behind him. “Thank you.”
Koenig started away, then turned back. “I’m sorry I had to let him push you around like that. Believe me, if I could have stopped him, I would have.”
Crime Scene Connection Page 17
