Conflicting Evidence (The Mighty McKenzies Series Book 3)

by LENA DIAZ,

  “I imagine he’s at our house, the old Sterling homestead. He’s too late though. It’s a flaming mess by now. He won’t be able to put it out.”

  “You imagine? Then you didn’t hurt him?”

  He gave her an aggravated look. “I’ve never killed anyone, Peyton, in spite of what your boyfriend has probably told you. He stole ten years off my life, would have stolen more if I hadn’t escaped. All the other witnesses at the barn fire were kind of iffy, not a hundred percent certain it was me. They were easy to discredit. But McKenzie swore up and down he had zero doubt. It was his testimony that put me away. He ruined my life.” He gestured toward the fire. “Now, I’m ruining his. Or, at least, as much as I can before I disappear. This is my revenge. Maybe sometime down the road, after he rebuilds, I’ll pay him another visit. But for now, this will have to do.”

  He holstered his pistol. “I know you don’t believe me. But I didn’t set that barn fire. I didn’t kill that cop, the one in Memphis. This fire—” he motioned toward the inferno in front of them “—is my first real fire. I have to admit, it’s cool. I doubt it’ll be my last. But just like I made sure you and McKenzie were out before I lit this one, that’s what I’ll always do. I’m not the evil person you think I am.”

  She tried to follow his twisted logic, but none of it made sense to her. “Then, you’re just walking away? You came here tonight to burn Colin’s house down? And burned our family house down to get him out of the way?”

  “Worked pretty good. There is one other thing.” He pulled her to him and hugged her tight.

  She stiffened and pushed against him.

  He sighed and let her go, his eyes sad. “You were always there for me growing up. I told you at the high school that I’d never hurt you. I meant it. I’ll never hurt you. Goodbye, sis.”

  He turned his back on her and started walking away. It was then that she noticed the ATV just past the corner of the workshop building, his getaway vehicle. She didn’t try to stop him. She turned around and started jogging the other way, toward her old house. She had to get to Colin, to see if he really was okay. Or whether her brother was lying once again.

  “Not so fast, Peyton.”

  She stumbled to a halt as two people stepped out of the woods across from her. Colin was in front, his clothes and face blackened with soot. The shirt he wore hung half open, some buttons torn off. He clearly wasn’t wearing his Kevlar vest, and she didn’t have to guess why. Her mother must have made him take it off. She was standing behind him, slightly off to the side and pointing a pistol.

  “Mom?” she whispered, her voice breaking. Even though she’d already suspected that her mother might still be alive, seeing her had Peyton’s whole body shaking. The woman looked twenty years older than she had almost four months ago. Her skin glowed a sickly yellow in the flickering light from the fire. Her once-blonde hair had turned almost white.

  Part of Peyton wanted to run to her, to hug her and tell her how good it was to see her again. But the rest of her wanted to shake her mother and yank that gun out of her hand.

  Colin’s gaze was riveted on Peyton. He didn’t seem to notice—or care—that his house was burning to the ground. He gave her a subtle nod, as if to let her know he was okay. Then he looked past her, off to the left, and his jaw tightened into a hard line.

  She turned around to see her brother running up to them, a look of fury on his face. “Mom? What are you doing? You were supposed to let me handle this.”

  “Colin McKenzie is still alive,” she said. “You haven’t handled anything.”

  “I didn’t come here to kill him. I did exactly what I wanted.” He waved toward the house, which was crackling and roaring on the other side of the lawn. “We need to go before the firemen and cops get here.”

  “No. He destroyed your life, Brian. He deserves to be punished.”

  Peyton took a step forward. Colin frowned and shook his head, but she ignored him. She had to. She couldn’t do nothing and risk her mother pulling the trigger. Somehow, Peyton had to turn the tables, get the advantage. She took another step, and her mother turned the gun. On Peyton.

  “Oh, Mom,” she whispered brokenly. “What are you doing? Why did you fake your death? And why would you destroy Brian’s life by breaking him out of prison when he could have been a free man in a handful of years? If anyone has ruined his life, it’s you.”

  Molly Sterling narrowed her eyes. “I’m dying, daughter. I don’t have much longer. And prison was killing your brother, not that you noticed. I told your father a few years ago during a visit with Brian that we needed to come up with a plan to get him out. That he wasn’t going to make it to when his sentence was up. Your father called us both fools and refused to see his own son after that. So I had to take matters into my own hands.”

  Peyton took another step closer, then another. “How did faking your death help Brian? I don’t understand.”

  Her mother rolled her eyes. “I was carjacked, back in Memphis.” She snorted. “Can you imagine? Turned out to be a blessing. Some homeless-looking woman took my purse, my jewelry, then drove off in my car. She hadn’t gone a block before the fool ran off the road into a tree.” She laughed again, as if the woman’s death was funny.

  Peyton’s stomach clenched with nausea.

  “I was going to call the police, then stopped,” her mother continued. “I realized what a boon this was. I could disappear and no one would come looking for me. The accident must have ruptured the fuel tank. The whole car reeked of gas. All I had to do was reach in the broken window and take my lighter from my purse, then...” She shrugged, a mad light dancing in her eyes.

  “Oh Mom,” Peyton whispered, nearly choking on her grief and disgust at what her mother had done.

  “Disappearing allowed me to work on my plan to get Brian out. Your father was watching me too closely. He saw I was searching on the internet for information about prison transports and threatened to call the police if I didn’t stop.”

  She smiled at Brian, who was staring at her a short distance from Peyton, his mouth open in horror. “I had to break my baby out. As soon as that stupid lawyer of his filed another one of his ridiculous motions to get Brian a break from prison, I made my move.” She laughed. “A break. Ha. I broke him out, little old me. All it took was a bribe to an overworked, underpaid van driver to weaken the lock on the back of the van.”

  Brian stepped closer to Peyton. “Peyton’s right, Mom. If you hadn’t interfered, I’d have been out soon. But you had to shoot that cop. If they catch me now, I’m facing the death penalty just because I ran, because I chose to escape like the other guys. They’ll never believe that I wasn’t in on your plan, that I didn’t know you’d be there, or that you’d shoot anyone. I’m guilty by association.”

  Peyton sucked in a breath. “Mom? You killed Officer Jennings?”

  “A mother will do anything to save her son. Don’t you see?” She looked at Brian, her eyes imploring him to understand. “You were wasting away behind bars. You know you wouldn’t have made it until the end of your sentence. I had to get you out, see you freed before I died.”

  Colin suddenly spun around and yanked the pistol out of Peyton’s mother’s hand. He whirled back toward Brian just as Brian brought up his own gun and leveled it at Colin.

  “Brian!” Peyton yelled. “Don’t!”

  Her mother stumbled back, then circled closer to Peyton’s brother. “Shoot him, Brian. That’s what we came here for. Shoot him.”

  “Like you shot Officer Simmons at the old Sterling homestead?” Colin asked. “You left the body inside to lure me into the inferno. Did you hope I’d be killed in the fire?”

  Brian’s eyes widened. “Mom? No. Please tell me you didn’t do that.”

  Colin sidled toward Peyton, keeping his gun trained on Brian. But he stopped several yards away, probably to keep Brian’s gun from pointing anywhe
re near her.

  “How many people have you killed, Mrs. Sterling? There’s Officer Jennings in Memphis, Officer Simmons, the three fugitives who escaped with Brian—”

  “What?” Brian’s eyes had gone even wider, his face losing all its color. “We tied them up so we could escape on our own, Mom. What did you do after I left to talk to Peyton?”

  “The same thing she’s done all along,” Colin said. “Eliminated anyone who was an inconvenience. I’m guessing it all started with the sorority-house fire at your college, isn’t that right Mrs. Sterling? What happened? Did one of the girls steal your boyfriend or something? So you decided to kill her?”

  “What...what’s he talking about?” Brian sounded confused, lost. His gun was still pointing at Colin, but he kept glancing at his mother.

  Peyton clenched her hands at her sides, panic making her pulse rush in her ears. She was desperate to help but not sure what to do that wouldn’t make things worse or get someone killed.

  “Mom?” Brian asked again, his voice turning angry. “Is Colin telling the truth? You killed those men?”

  “They don’t matter,” she said. “None of that matters.”

  Brian swore.

  Peyton pressed a hand to her mouth, hot tears coursing down her cheeks. How had she never realized how twisted and evil her mother was?

  Sirens sounded from down the mountain, just barely loud enough to be heard over the crackling of the fire.

  “Drop your gun, Brian,” Colin told him. “It’s your only chance of getting out of here alive. Soon the mountains will be swarming with cops.”

  “Shoot him and let’s go, before the cops get here,” his mother urged.

  Brian’s gun wobbled.

  “Don’t, Brian,” Peyton said. “I can’t let you hurt him.”

  Colin frowned at her. “Stop it, Peyton,” he whispered harshly.

  He wanted to protect her. He obviously didn’t want her trying anything. But these two screwed-up people in front of them were her family. She couldn’t stand silently by while they discussed whether or not to kill the man she loved. She had to do something.

  “I know you didn’t start the barn fire, Brian,” she said.

  His wild-eyed gaze flicked to hers. “You’re just saying that because you don’t want me to shoot McKenzie.”

  “I don’t want you to shoot him. You’re right. I love him, very much. But I love you too. And I’m not lying when I tell you that I know you didn’t torch the barn. I have proof, a picture. It shows mom inside the barn with the flames licking at the windows.”

  He frowned. “No way. I would have seen that picture at the trial.”

  “It’s that smoking gun picture. We all looked at it a thousand times. But I looked at it again just a few days ago. And that’s when I saw that forest-print fabric from Mom’s dress in the lower edge of the window, just as the flames started. She was inside while you were taking the gas can out, thinking you were helping. She let you go to prison for her crimes. She didn’t break you out of prison to see you free before she died. She broke you out to assuage her own guilt for letting you take the blame all these years. She didn’t want to die with that guilt on her conscience.”

  Brian slowly turned his gun on his mother. “Is that true?”

  His voice sounded so young, so bewildered and lost that it broke Peyton’s heart.

  Colin kept his gun trained on Peyton’s brother. “Drop it, Brian.”

  “Mom?” Brian’s voice cracked. “Mom?”

  Her face crumpled, as if she’d finally realized that she’d lost the battle. Or was it all part of an act? Yet another lie to get what she wanted? “I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone was inside. And I didn’t know you had run out with that can. I must have gone back in right after you ran out. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have lit the match. I’m so sorry.”

  He slowly lowered his gun, a stricken look on his face. “You let me go to prison. All this time, you let me sit there, rotting away, when you were the one who should have been there.”

  Her mother sobbed, covering her face with her hands.

  Brian turned his tortured gaze to Colin, then Peyton. “I wasn’t in the woods that night, here, at the shooting. It was Mom. She’s the one who called Dad asking for money for both of us. I didn’t know until later.” He drew a ragged breath. “She gave me the gun for my protection in case the police were with you when I went to meet you at the school. It didn’t bother her one bit that she handed her son the gun she’d used to kill his father.” His tortured gaze met Peyton’s. “She killed him. She killed Dad.” He shook his head, tears streaming down his face.

  Most of the sirens seemed to have stopped down the mountain, probably at the Sterling house. But one of them was still coming, probably a fire truck investigating the second set of flames lighting up the sky.

  “Forgive me, baby,” her mother pleaded, sidling closer to Brian. “You have to forgive me.”

  He ignored her, staring at Peyton. “I love you. I’m sorry, for all of this. But I can’t go back to prison. I just can’t.”

  She saw the intent in his eyes. “Brian, no!”

  He jerked the gun up and shot himself. He dropped to the ground.

  “Brian!” She started toward him.

  “Peyton!” Colin yelled.

  Everything seemed to happen as if in slow motion. Her mother threw herself to the ground, grabbing for Brian’s pistol.

  Peyton looked back at Colin.

  He leaped toward her.

  She twisted around to see her mother bringing up Brian’s pistol and pointing it at her.

  Boom!

  Peyton was thrown to the ground, landing hard, her chin snapping against the hard dirt. Colin had slammed into her, knocking her out of the way just as her mother had squeezed the trigger. She pushed herself up and looked back.

  Colin was on the ground a few feet away where he’d landed and rolled, blood blooming on his side. His pistol had fallen out of his hand when he’d knocked Peyton down. She jerked her head up to see her mother smiling a sickening smile as she stared at Colin, Brian’s gun still in her hands as she slowly aimed once more. This time, at Colin’s head.

  “Mom! Over here!” Peyton flailed her arms in the air.

  Her mother jerked the gun toward Peyton.

  Boom! Boom! Boom!

  Her mother stared at her in shock, then slowly crumpled to the ground.

  Peyton gasped, then whirled around. Colin lay on his side, his pistol in his hands where he’d snatched it up. Once again, he’d saved her. But at what cost? The dirt was soaked in blood beneath him. The pistol fell from his fingers and he collapsed onto his back.

  “Colin!” She scrambled forward on her knees.

  “Freeze! Don’t move!” someone yelled behind her, and she realized the police had finally arrived.

  She ignored them and hurried to Colin. He blinked up at her, as if having trouble focusing. The tears she’d thought had dried up flooded her eyes as she pressed her hand against his side, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

  He gasped and gritted his teeth.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I have to stop the bleeding. Damn it, Colin. You should have shot my mother before she got Brian’s gun back. Then she couldn’t have hurt you.”

  He blinked up at her. “She’s your mother. Didn’t want you to hate me. Didn’t want to shoot her.”

  “Oh, Colin. I could never hate you.”

  Rough hands grabbed her from behind. “Ma’am, back off.”

  “No, let me go! I have to put pressure on the wound.”

  Police were swarming across the yard, running toward them.

  “Leave her alone,” Colin rasped. “She’s not one of the shooters. Leave her alone.”

  The policeman let her go and she scrambled to Colin’s side, once again pressing against
his wound.

  “Get an ambulance,” she yelled over her shoulder. “Marshal McKenzie has been shot.”

  “We’re here,” some EMTs yelled, scrambling toward them with their kits in their hands.

  “Over here,” one of the policemen shouted, waving at the EMTs as he knelt beside her mother. “This one’s still alive. She’s in rough shape.”

  “We’ve got another one over here,” another policeman yelled. “GSW to the head, but he’s still with us.”

  Peyton blinked. “Brian?” She saw the EMTs change direction and veer toward her brother and her mom. “No!” She glared at the EMTs. “McKenzie first. Get over here. Now!”

  Another pair of EMTs seemed to materialize out of thin air and knelt beside Colin.

  “Ma’am, please. You need to move out of the way and let us help him.”

  “He’s bleeding. I can’t move my hand. He’s bleeding.” Her tears ran down her face, dripping off her chin.

  “I know, ma’am. We’re going to help him. You need to let go.”

  “Peyton?”

  She blinked furiously at her tears and looked down. “Colin?”

  He lifted his hand and wiped at her tears. “I’m okay. I’ll be okay. Let them do their job, sweetheart.”

  She blinked, then moved back, letting the EMTs take over. She scrambled around to his other side and stroked his hair as they put an oxygen mask over his face.

  He lifted it up. “Don’t cry, Peyton. They’re working on your family. They’ll do everything they can. Don’t cry.”

  She pushed his hand away and put the mask over his nose and mouth. “I’m not crying for them, you silly man. I’m crying for you. You’re my family. You always have been, always will be. I’m crying for you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Peyton barely paid attention to the beautiful mountains and acres of green grass and trees surrounding them. She was too busy keeping a close watch on Colin since he insisted on driving the ATV. Even at a snail’s pace, she could tell it was jarring his side, causing him pain. He was infuriating, refusing to follow doctor’s orders and take it easy.