Bound to the Past (Starville Series Book 1) (39 page)

As their gazes met again, Sara drew a shaky breath. “Come back home soon, hon. Youʼre a little too roughed up for my taste already.”

He chuckled. “Iʼll do my best, sweetheart. By the way, thank you for finding Frank. Heʼs awesome.”

“Yes, he is.”

“Did you really call Raymond Miller in Chicago in the middle of night?” He shook his head in amusement as she dropped her eyes.

“I, uh, didnʼt realize what time it was. I got the idea of calling him and picked up the phone before thinking about it.”

He grinned. “So I heard.”

“Raymond was very nice, though. He cares about you, and so does Frank.”

“I guess.”

Sara smiled at his uneasiness. “He said youʼve known each other for years and that he was a good friend of J.T.ʼs. Heʼs also the one who got you out of jail ten years ago.”

“Yeah, he told me.”

“Heʼs going to get you out this time, too.”

Jack hesitated. His gaze darted quickly around the room before settling back on her. “What if I really am guilty, Sara?” he asked, his voice low.

She huffed in exasperation. “Ja-ack!”

“Iʼm serious! Ever since I lost my memory, Iʼve been confused about who I am. What if my mind got totally screwed up after the accident, to the point of making me do horrible things and then forget about them? Like…killing? You know damn well that the night of the fair you didnʼt find me on the porch until four in the morning. What if I went to the lake before that and killed Charlene―in a state of trance or something―then forgot about it?”

“Donʼt be ridiculous. How would you forget something like that?”

Jack took a deep, ragged breath. “The night Carrie was killed, I took a couple of those painkillers Doc gave me…and I also took a couple the night of the fair. I didnʼt want to, but my head was hurting so much that I couldnʼt help it.”

“I know. I saw you take them before you left for your walk,” she muttered.

“Yeah, well, the whole time while I was walking that night, I kept thinking about what happened at the fair. Then my thoughts started getting more and more confused, until my mind went completely blank. I donʼt know how to explain it, but itʼs like—like I blacked out or something.” He gave her a long, intense gaze. “I canʼt remember anything that happened after that. Not one damn thing until you woke me up, hours later.”

She swallowed hard. “You did look…out of it.”

“Out of it.” Jack scoffed, shaking his head. “Hell, Sara, for a while I didnʼt even know what was real and what was not! I have no clue about what happened during those hours I blacked out. As far as I know, I couldʼve headed to the park like a sleepwalker and killed Charlene. I would have had all the time to do that and then come back home as if nothing had happened.

“The same thing happened the night Carrie died,” he went on in one breath. “After you went to Nickyʼs, I crashed on the couch for hours―or so I thought. But what if during that time I went to see Carrie instead? What if I killed her and came back home, but my mind erased the whole thing?”

All Sara could do was stare at him in disbelief. “Is that the reason Frank asked me to give him the painkillers?”

“Yes, he wanted to get them analyzed. We just got the lab results back.”

“And?”

Jack gave her a long look before. “As it turned out, theyʼre nothing but hydrocodone, a very common narcotic pain reliever that millions of people use every day.”

“Oh?”

“I donʼt know why they have such a devastating effect on me, Sara, but the point is, itʼs not the pills. Theyʼre not responsible for my behavior—
I
am. Itʼs not their fault that Iʼm crazy.”

“Donʼt say that!” Sara burst out. “Youʼre not crazy, Jack, and you donʼt even know what kind of behavior youʼre talking about. Okay, those pills knock you out. So what? You have no proof that you did anything wrong after you took them, so donʼt jump the gun yet.”

Jack shook his head. “Funny choice of words there, sweetheart.”

“Oh, shush!” She gave him a playful punch on the arm. As his smile faded to a grim line, though, she put her hands on his shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. “Jack, listen to me: you didnʼt kill anybody. Donʼt you understand? This is exactly what the killer is trying to do―confuse you and make you question all your certainties, taking advantage of the fact that your mindʼs already disoriented because of the accident.”

Jack closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers. “You really think so?”

“Iʼm positive. And honey, you have to keep your head on your shoulders and your eyes open, because all I can see right now is that somebody is doing their damnedest to frame you again. I believe in your innocence, but I need you to do the same. Frank cannot defend you if you donʼt.” When he didnʼt comment, she blew out a long sigh. “So, whatʼs the plan now?”

“Frank is going to meet with Judge Hatkins in two days and set a date for the arraignment. After that, weʼll start planning my defense strategy.”

Sara tried to keep her emotions at bay and not show how much those words were shaking her inside, but apparently she couldnʼt conceal the pain well enough, because Jack brushed her arm softly. “Donʼt worry about it.”

She gave him an incredulous look. “How can you expect me not to worry about it? In fact, how the hell you can stay so calm?” she blurted, exasperated.

“Please, tell me youʼre not going to bring up that whole crap about the emotionless robot,” he tried to joke, but all he got from her was a scowl. Then her eyes filled with sadness at the memory of that sweet, happy night at the Haydensʼ. It was hard to believe that everything could be so perfect just a few weeks ago, and now… A desperate cry slipped from her lips before she could stop it. “When can I see you again?”

Jack let out a sigh. “Honestly, I donʼt know. Itʼll be a couple of weeks, at least. Maybe more.”

Her heart sank. The last few days without him had felt like an eternity already.

“Seriously, donʼt think about it now. The truth is, I havenʼt been formally charged with anything yet,” he reminded her, trying to sound encouraging.

“I know, but―”

He placed his fingers on her lips to stop her. “Letʼs wait before we get all upset, okay?”

Sara kissed his fingers. Tears stung her eyes again, but she quickly pushed them back. Jack was right. She would have all the time in the world to cry at home…but not now. They only had a few more minutes together, and he needed strength and encouragement, not hysterical tears. Pulling slightly away, she tilted her head back to look at his face. “Okay.”

“Promise you wonʼt get all paranoid about what I said?”

This time she even managed a weak smile. “I promise Iʼll do my best not to.”

“Thatʼs my girl.”

“Youʼre right, thereʼs no reason to get worried yet. And I have no intention of wasting what little time we have left together today talking about what might or might not happen.”

Her bravery was rewarded with that gorgeous, lazy smile of his. “And what would you like to talk about instead?”

“Actually, I was hoping we wouldnʼt be talking at all.”

Jackʼs grin widened, and a gleam of amusement flashed across his eyes as he leaned in to kiss her. “Sounds great to me,” he whispered before claiming her mouth. Neither of them had any idea how long theyʼd been kissing when the sound of the door opening made them both jump. A moment later, Brent walked into the room and stopped in front of them, shaking his head with clear disapproval.

“Doesnʼt look like you guys are a foot from each other,” he commented in a semi-serious tone. “Turner, I thought I told you to keep your hands off.”

Jack glared at him as Sara forced herself out of his arms. “How is it that you always come at the most inconvenient times, Hayden?”

“Talent, my friend.” Brent shook his head with a chuckle but sobered almost instantly. “Sorry, guys, but your time is up.”

Sara nodded and turned back to Jack. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, that she always had and always would…but she knew he wouldnʼt want to hear it, so she bit her lip and forced a smile, instead. “Keep your head up, honey. I promise weʼll get you out of here.”

Chapter 27

Frank Devereaux slid out of his rental car and looked around curiously. Almost a week had gone by since heʼd arrived in Starville, but he still hadnʼt had the chance to visit the town he used to know so well. Raising his eyes to the faded sign of The Cove, he shook his head with a grin. Everything looked exactly as he remembered.

“Sorry I made you wait.”

Brentʼs deep voice jolted him out of his nostalgic reverie, and he turned around to greet him and Sara. “No worries, I just got here myself. Shall we go in?”

“Absolutely,” Brent nodded, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “Itʼs so damn hot today!”

After sitting at one of the available booths, they were welcomed by Tracy, the young college girl who had been hired temporarily to replace Charlene.

“What can I get ya today, handsome?” she asked Brent in a tone that reminded him painfully of Charlene. The waitress scribbled down their choices, collected the menus, and left. As Brent and Frank started sharing funny anecdotes about Starville, Sara looked absently out the window, her mind drifting.

“Weʼll get him out of there, hon. I promise.” She turned to Brent with a start—and thatʼs when she realized that her gaze had been fixed upon the sheriffʼs office across the street.

“Itʼs just so weird, you know,” she admitted with a sigh. “I mean, being here, knowing that Jack is only a few feet away and yet so unreachable.”

Frank and Brent exchanged a silent look. As Tracy walked back toward them with their orders, the attorney eyed Brentʼs burger and fries with disapproval.

“Donʼt say a word, Devereaux.”

Sara couldnʼt help laughing as Frank raised his arms helplessly. “Whatever, eat what you want. Just donʼt come crying to me when—”

“Hanging out with the devilʼs advocate, Deputy?”

Brent set his burger down with a sigh. “Get outta here, Wayne, Iʼm not in the mood for your crap today.”

“I donʼt give a damn about your mood.”

“If you have something to say, sir, you can say it directly to me,” Frank interjected flatly, an unaffected look on his face.

The man turned to him. “You! You let that bastard get away with his shit once already. But we wonʼt let you do it again.”

“Wayne!”

Brentʼs jaw clenched at Saraʼs outraged cry. “Wayne, I said—”

“How many more people does Turner have to kill to stay in jail?” Wayne continued, ignoring him. “Is three not enough? Maybe five, then? Ten?”

Frank impassibly raised a forkful to his mouth. “I appreciate your concern, sir. Now, if donʼt mind, I would like to finish my lunch.”

Wayne slanted him a disgusted look. “How do you do it? How do you manage to sleep at night, knowing youʼre defending scumbags like Turner?”

“Enough.” Brent rose to his feet, his eyes hard as steel. “I believe Mr. Devereaux politely asked you to let him finish his lunch.”

“He should choke on it!”

“Another word and Iʼll send you straight to the slammer, Wayne.”

“Sure. Go ahead, lock an innocent, law-abiding citizen like me in jail—after all, you let murderers out, right?”

Brentʼs fists tightened so much his knuckles turned white. “Wayne, I swear to God…”

“I should have known he meant trouble that night,” the man continued as if he hadnʼt heard him, his head shaking in anguish. “I should have known he was up to no good the moment I saw him dart around on that damn motorcycle of his. But I didnʼt do anything, and now that poor woman is dead. Just like Charlene.”

The forkful of food Frank was lifting to his mouth stopped in midair. “Excuse me?”

Wayne shot Brent and Sara a quizzical look but huffed in frustration as he realized that Saraʼs face had blanched, and they both appeared even more shocked than the attorney.

“Repeat what you just said, Wayne. Please.”

Disoriented by sudden change of register, all he could do was obey. “I said that I should have known Turner meant—”

“Are you saying that you saw Jack Turner the night Carrie Ward was murdered?” Frank persisted, scooting to the side to make room for him in his booth.

Wayne nodded again and sat down docilely. “Yes. Yes, of course.”

Brent fell back into his seat. “Do you remember what time it was and where you were, Wayne?”

“Uh, around 11:45 p.m., I think. I was here at The Cove―we all saw him.”

“Who else was with you?” Brentʼs voice sounded amazingly calm as he pulled a notepad and a pen out of his uniform pocket.

“Well, letʼs see… It was me, Hank, Billy Bob, Ronnie, and Charlie. Oh, and Lucy, of course. And Scotty.”

“And you said it was around 11:45 p.m., is that correct?”

“It was 11:50,” Hank interjected as he cleared off the table behind them. “I remember looking at the clock because that darn motorcycle was loud as hell and I wondered where the heck Turner might be going so late at night.”

Brent slid a quiet, sideways glance at the clock on the wall, then at his watch, as if to make sure it was working correctly. Sara swallowed hard, trying to find her voice. “Are you sure it was Jack, Hank?”

He turned to give her a
duh
look. “Who else owns a Harley Davidson in Starville?”

“I need you to tell me without a doubt, Hank,” Frank said, his big body squirming uncomfortably in his seat.

“It was Jack.” Lucyʼs calm voice resounded through the diner as she walked out of the kitchen. “As usual, he wasnʼt wearing a helmet, and I saw his face clearly. Such a reckless young man he is.” She shook her head in disapproval. “I, too, wondered where in the world he was going so fast and so late on that awful metallic beast of his.”

“What time was it, Lucy?”

“Eleven fifty p.m.”

Sara took a deep breath. “Are you certain?”

“Absolutely, I looked at the clock.” The woman nodded, slightly puzzled. “Why are we talking about this, anyway?”

Brent rose to his feet and threw a bunch of bills on the table, followed by Frank and Sara. Then he leaned over the older woman and planted a loud kiss on her cheek. “If everything goes well, Iʼll tell you really soon, Lucy.”