Bound to the Past (Starville Series Book 1) (26 page)

“Oh, yeah.” Chuckling, he kissed her lips. “Thatʼs why you find me irresistible.”

She let out a sigh halfway between amused and exasperated. “Iʼd find you more irresistible if you were a little less full of yourself. But speaking of depravation, have I told you your tattoo is very sexy?”

“Hmm.” He turned his head to give his shoulder blade a quick glance. “Iʼd love to tell you what the hell it is or when I got it, but I have no clue.”

“Thatʼs okay. Right now Iʼm more concerned with that creepy purplish bruise on your stomach.”
And all those scars on your back.
Sara decided not to mention those, since he probably wouldnʼt know about them, anyway, but her heart cringed at the sight. What kind of violent, messed-up life had he had?

Jack lowered his eyes to his stomach. His grunted “Ronnie” made her stiffen.

“You mean, he hit you? Last night? Dammit, Jack, why didnʼt you tell me?” she urged when he nodded with a casual shrug.

“It was just a punch. Honestly, sweetheart, Iʼve had better things on my mind in the last few hours,” he added, stretching on top of her.

“Ha! Nice way to distract me.”

“Glad you think so. Now―” He stopped abruptly as the doorbell rang. “Are you expecting anyone?”

Sara shook her head. “No, but Iʼm sure itʼs Nicky. She often swings by on her way back from work. Iʼd love not to answer, but sheʼll break down the door if I donʼt,” she said with a sigh. As if to confirm her words, the doorbell rang again.

Jack dropped back on the pillows with a sigh. “All right. Hurry, though.”

“I will.” She got out of bed and put on a clean pair of shorts and a top.

“Do you want me to go with you?” he asked as she ran her brush through her hair.

“Nah, Iʼll be right back.” She leaned down to kiss his lips, but when Jack wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her closer, she wished nobody were at the door. The bell rang again. She forced herself to leave his arms. “Iʼll be as fast as I can.”

Still smiling, Sara reached the living room and opened the door―but the smile froze on her lips the instant she saw Brent and Nicky standing on the porch, dead-serious looks on their faces. “Can we come in?”

Confused by Brentʼs somber tone, Sara moved aside to let them in. “Of course. Is something wrong?”

He didnʼt answer and sat on the couch. “Is Jack home?”

“Heʼs upstairs. Why?”

Nicky frowned but didnʼt comment. “We need to ask him a few questions about last night.”

Sara snorted. “Itʼs because of what happened at the fair, isnʼt it? Because of the fight Jack had with Ronnie?” As her friends exchanged a silent look, she let out a frustrated sigh. “Why does everything always have to be Jackʼs fault? Everybodyʼs constantly looking for reasons to jump down his throat! Last night he was teased and provoked in all possible ways!”

Brent swallowed thickly. “Would you tell us what happened?”

“Why do you ask?”

Seeing the confused look on her face, Nicky placed a reassuring hand on her arm. “Something serious happened, Sara. We need you to tell us what happened last night at the parking lot, and I promise that, when youʼre done, weʼll explain everything to you.”

Sara hesitated, then dropped onto the couch. “Fine. It was almost midnight when Jack and I decided to leave the fair. He was uncomfortable having all those people around, so I suggested that we go home. I told him I wanted to look for you guys and say good-bye, and he said heʼd wait for me in the parking lot,” she recalled. “I donʼt know exactly what happened after that, but I saw you guys dancing and talked to David for a few minutes. As I was heading back to the parking lot, I heard Charlene yelling at Jack.”

“What happened then?” Brent took her hand, but she moved it away abruptly.

“Why are you asking me all these questions?”

“Sara—”

“No. Either you tell me whatʼs going on or I wonʼt answer any more questions.”

“Why donʼt you ask me, instead? After all, arenʼt I the scapegoat of this goddamn town?” Jack cut in drily as he entered the room wearing jeans and a white T-shirt.

Sara looked him as if he were a knight in shining armor come to rescue her, which irritated Brent and Nicky…especially considering it was from
him
they were trying to protect her.

Brent drew a long breath, watching him sit beside Sara and slide an arm around her shoulders. “Weʼre not looking for any scapegoats, Jack. We just need your cooperation to learn the facts and know exactly what happened last night.”

He slanted him a skeptical look. “Two cops coming here in person to question me about a stupid fight at a stupid small-town fair,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “Hayden, either you really have nothing better to do here in Starville or you better tell me whatʼs going on, because I know an interrogation when I hear one, and Iʼll refuse to speak without a lawyer beside me.”

“Heʼs right, Brent. He has the right to know,” Nicky chimed in uncertainly.

He hesitated a few moments, then sighed. “Fine. Itʼs about Charlene.”

Sara instinctively pressed tighter to Jack. “What about her?”

“She didnʼt show up at work this morning. Hank tried to contact her in vain all morning, then called us.”

“Oh, God…”

“Although twenty-four hours hadnʼt passed since her disappearance and we werenʼt allowed to start an official search yet, we started looking for her immediately and found her at the park, a few hours ago,” Brent continued in a dry tone, his eyes fixed on Jackʼs. “Charleneʼs dead. She was murdered last night.”

His words had the effect of a bomb. A tense silence filled the room, only broken by Saraʼs whispered, “No.”

Her frantic thoughts raced back to Charlene. So young, so beautiful, so full of life and dreams… She shook her head, as if to erase Brentʼs horrible words. “Itʼs impossible! She was perfectly fine when we left her.”

“Preliminary examinations indicate that she was killed on the lakeshore between two and three in the morning,” Nicky specified.

“Jack, Iʼm sorry, but I have to ask you where you were last night around that time.”

Sara felt Jack stiffen beside her, and she took his hand, shooting Brent an outraged look. Sheʼd never heard him use that tone before. That cold, professional cop tone that sent chills through her. “I canʼt believe this! You canʼt think Jack…”

“Itʼs just routine, Sara. Besides―”

“Besides, Iʼm the main suspect, since I already have a murder charge on my back. Right, Nicky?” Jack cut her off flatly.

“Right,” she agreed, unimpressed. “But thereʼs more, as you know. Last night the whole town heard you fight with Charlene and tell her it wasnʼt over. What did you mean by that?”

Sara gasped in dismay. “Nicky!”

Jackʼs icy gaze darted from Nicky to Brent. “If Iʼm under arrest, why donʼt you guys just tell me immediately and put an end to this ridiculous charade?”

“Youʼre
not
under arrest!” Brent took a deep breath. “Look, why donʼt we start this all over? I think weʼre all taking it the wrong way. We only need to ask you a few questions…before Lacrod decides he wants to conduct the interrogations himself.”

Sara shuddered at the thought. “Brentʼs right. Why donʼt we all relax a little? Iʼll go make some coffee, and then weʼll talk about this. As friends.”

“I think itʼs better that I make that coffee, Sara,” Nicky suggested, falling into step behind her. “The atmosphere in the living room is tense enough already, if you leave weʼre in trouble.”

“All right.” She turned to leave the kitchen, then stopped. “Jack is innocent, Nic. I know it. He would never hurt anybody.”

“If thatʼs true, weʼll prove it. And believe me, honey, nothing would make me happier.”

“Thank you.”

Back in the living room, Sara sat beside Jack. Brent gave them both a long look. “Will you answer my questions now, Jack?”

“Fine,” he nodded reluctantly. “Shoot.”

“First of all, I need to know what happened last night, after Sara left you to look for us,” Brent started.

Jack frowned, trying to remember. “I walked to the parking lot to wait for Sara, and Charlene followed me. She said she wanted to apologize for the way sheʼd reacted the other day.”

“What other day?”

“The day I picked up my bike from the sheriffʼs office,” he explained flatly. “After I left you, I rode around town and stopped at Hankʼs for a drink.”

“Is that when you got into a fight with Wayne?”

“Hey, he was the one who got into a fight with me. I didnʼt even touch him!”

“Sorry. Continue, please.”

“I met Charlene that same day. I wanted to talk to her because…well, I heard that we used to know each other in the past,” Jack said uncomfortably, and Sara placed a hand on his thigh in silent encouragement. “At first she seemed nervous but friendly. But then I asked her if she could help me remember anything about my past and about the night J.T. was killed, and she started freaking out. She turned whiter than a ghost and said she didnʼt know anything; she looked at me like some trapped prey.”

“Did you hit her?”

“Brent!” Sara jumped up in outrage, but Jack held her back, stroking her back to calm her down.

“No, Hayden. I did not hit her.”

“What about last night? Ronnie says you raised your hand at her.”

“Thatʼs a lie.” Jackʼs eyes narrowed. “I told you, Charlene came to apologize, and I told her not to worry about it. I tried to walk away, but she had, um, different ideas in mind.”

“What do you mean?”

He glanced at Sara, who was looking at him with surprise, and drew a deep breath. “Really, Brent, I donʼt think thatʼs important.”

“Jack―”

“All right!” he gave in, raising his arms. “Charlene threw herself into my arms, okay? She was jealous of Sara…and she said she wanted me back.”

A dead silence dropped into the room.

Jack turned toward a gaping Sara and took both her hands in his. “I did nothing to encourage her. It was all in her head, I swear.”

The tramp!
Then she remembered that Charlene was dead. Remorse pierced her beyond shock and anger, and she blew a deep sigh. Staring into Jackʼs troubled eyes, she squeezed his hands with a faint smile. “Why didnʼt you tell me?”

“I didnʼt want to upset you for nothing. It meant nothing to me.”

Brent cleared his throat. “Continue, Jack. What happened after that?”

“I turned Charlene down, of course. I told her I wasnʼt interested in getting back together, and that unless she wanted to talk about the night J.T. was killed, we had nothing else to say. At that point she got all defensive again, saying she didnʼt know anything and couldnʼt help me. But I knew that she was lying. She was hiding something, Brent. But I didnʼt hurt her.”

“You hurt Ronnie, though,” Nicky interjected, entering the living room with a tray in her hands and placing it on the coffee table.

Jackʼs eyes flashed with rage. “He jumped on me and punched me in the gut. What was I supposed to do? I didnʼt even know who the hell he was! And I did
not
hurt him,” he specified, repeating Nickyʼs words, “I just…gave him a lesson.”

“He deserved it,” Sara burst out. “All he wanted was to push Jackʼs buttons!”

“Go on, Sara,” Brent encouraged her.

“When I got to the parking lot, the whole town seemed to be there,” she remembered with a grimace. “Ronnie was clearly looking for a fight, because when he saw me coming he said―” She stopped to glance at Jack and saw his fists tighten at the memory.

Nicky gave her a contrite look. “Iʼm sorry, hon, but we have to know what he said.”

She took another long breath. “He said something to the effect of: ‘Look at that, Turner, your little slut is here to save you.ʼ”

“Son of a―”

Nicky placed her hand on Brentʼs arm to stop him. “Is that why you attacked him, Jack?”

“Yes.” He squirmed uncomfortably on the couch. “I lost control, I guess. I bashed him against the wall, demanding his apologies. I know I shouldnʼt have done it, and Iʼm sorry. But Iʼd do it again if he talked to Sara that way, if thatʼs what you want to know,” he added, a defiant look in his eyes.

“Did he do it? Did he apologize?”

“Yes. I let him go and was about to leave, when―”

“When?”

Sara sighed. “Charlene yelled at Jack that he was the same old violent bastard and that she hoped heʼd rot in jail. At that point
I
lost control.”

“Is that when you told her it wasnʼt over, Jack?”

Brentʼs question jolted him back to reality, and he shoved a hand through his hair. “I donʼt know why I said it…I certainly didnʼt mean to hurt her! All I meant was that Iʼd talk to her again, because at that point I was certain she was hiding something. Believe me, I didnʼt mean―”

“Itʼs not just that, Jack. A few weeks ago, Charlene told Max that she visited you in jail once, during the trial.”

“So?”

“She said that you were mad. Furious, actually. According to Max, you swore that youʼd come back to Starville one day and take your revenge on her. On all of us…because you felt we betrayed you by not believing your innocence.”

Jack rubbed his face with both hands. “Shit.”

“Do you remember any of that?”

“No.” He slanted a look at Sara. His heart ached at the sight of her paleness.

“How do you know that Max is not lying?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper. “You know he hates Jack.”

Brent shook his head gravely. “He wouldnʼt lie about something like this, Sara. Heʼs devastated by Charleneʼs death. She and Layla have always been best friends, and she was like a daughter to him.”

Jack took a deep breath. “I didnʼt kill her, Brent. Tell me what to do and Iʼll do it.”

“Right now you just need to tell me what happened after you left the fair.”

“Sara and I came back home. She went upstairs. I went for a little walk because I was too nervous to go to bed,” he admitted, though he knew those words would be his biggest regret.

“Where did you go?”

“Around the neighborhood.”

“What time did you get back home?”

Jack felt Sara stiffen against him at Brentʼs urgent questions, and he knew exactly what she was thinking. When sheʼd found him asleep on the swing it’d been almost four a.m.; Charlene had been killed between two and three in the morning. He told her heʼd been there for a couple of hours, but he didnʼt have any proof of that. The lake was only a few minutes away from her house; he couldʼve had time to meet Charlene there and kill her, undisturbed, before Sara even looked for him. A cold shiver ran down his spine. This time he was going to be shoved straight into the electric chair.