Dirty Little Lies (24 page)

After a few quiet words exchanged with Bobby, he went back inside the farmhouse. Tracy lingered on the porch, grinding her teeth and trying to find something to do with her hands. Marisela stayed on the lush green lawn and waited for Tracy to make the right decision. After a few minutes, Tracy took a deep breath and swept her hand across her sandy hair, then marched down the steps. Her eyes were clear now. No more tears. And she spoke with a steady voice.

“What happened at the orchard?”

“Three guys jumped my partner,” Marisela explained, “threw him in a horse stall and were waiting to come after me. I messed up their plan by spotting the guy in the house.”

Tracy’s brow scrunched with worry. “They weren’t after me?”

Marisela shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think the guy in the house might actually have been there to protect you. From me.”

Fear skittered across Tracy’s face.

Marisela reached out and placed her hand softly on the woman’s arm. “Tracy, I know you don’t know me. You have no reason to trust me. But I’m telling you here and now that you might be in danger. Other people, too. And maybe, with your help, we can stop this craziness before someone else gets killed.”

“You mean Brad Hightower.”

Marisela nodded. “And Craig Bennett. He’s lucky to be alive and it’s our job—Titan’s job—to keep him that way.”

Tracy rubbed her arms as if suddenly very cold. “I tried to call Parker, you know. The recording said the network was down.”

“That was us, making sure your brother didn’t try to stop you from telling the truth,” Marisela replied.

“That’s real clever,” Tracy said. “He would have told me to leave. Or to keep my mouth shut. What I don’t understand is why Parker didn’t come out here himself.”

Marisela patted Tracy’s shoulder gently. “I can’t say what’s keeping him, but I’ll find your brother for you myself once I know the whole story and I know you’re safe. Why don’t we start with my biggest question—would your brother hire someone to kill Craig Bennett and his friends?”

“Parker? No way! He’d never dig all this up again. Never.”

“Why not? He hated those men. He blamed them for your sister’s death.”

“At first, yeah,” Tracy said desperately. “We all did.” She stepped away and her voice became so tiny, Marisela nearly didn’t hear her when she said, “We were wrong.”

Marisela didn’t try to hide her confusion. “Tracy, you need to tell me everything you remember from that night—everything you know to be true. If you were there, you could be in danger, too, maybe not from those guys back at the barn, but from the assassin herself.”

“It’s a woman?” she asked, shocked.

Marisela arched a brow, “You don’t think a woman can kill?”

Tracy’s face went white and the shaking she’d had a handle on moments before returned in full force. “No…I know we can.”

We
?

Marisela decided to take the tension down a notch. “Why don’t we go for a drive?”

Tracy eyed her warily. “I want to go back to the orchard.”

Marisela shook her head. “Frankie’s a little busy right now. He’s probably, very politely, finding out what else those goons know. And in a few minutes, the place will be swarming with Titan operatives. Wouldn’t you rather go somewhere private?”

Tracy hesitated, her eyes hooded. When she finally looked up, Marisela saw a flash of determination. “Maybe it’s time.”

With that cryptic statement hanging in the air, Tracy started toward the Corvette. Not one to let an opportunity slide, Marisela clicked the alarm off and jogged to the car. The minute she turned the ignition, Ian’s voice crackled over the radio communicator.

Tracy nearly bolted out of the passenger seat. Marisela calmed her with a hand to her thigh.

“Marisela here, Ian. Tracy’s with me.”

Ian’s voice instantly softened. “I hope you’re all right, Ms. Manning.”

Tracy looked around, unsure of where—and to whom—to respond. “I’m…fine.”

“Agents are on the scene with Frank,” Ian announced. “He was able to convince the attackers to give up the name of who hired them.”

Marisela grimaced. She hadn’t doubted Frankie’s skills at coercion, but she had a feeling the information wasn’t something Tracy would want to hear.

“Let me guess. Parker Manning?”

“No big surprise, I suppose,” Ian confirmed.

Tracy’s eyes widened. “My brother sent men to hurt you?”

Marisela turned to Tracy. “Your brother didn’t want us to talk to you. Maybe because you know that he hired the assassin and he didn’t trust you to keep quiet?”

Tracy laughed, but the tone was completely absent of humor. “Parker knows I can keep a secret better than anyone. And he didn’t hire any assassin. First, he doesn’t have the money. Those thugs at my place are probably guys who owed him favors or guys he drinks with in bars.”

“They said this was a side job,” Marisela confirmed.

“See? He’s only protecting me. Like always. Since Becca died, I’m his only family. Our parents totally checked out. Parker and I…we only had each other. I can totally see him trying to get you to back off, but he’d never have anyone killed, especially not Evan Cole. Or the others. He wouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

Tracy’s gaze skittered around the car. She knew Ian was listening. She hesitated, but finally took a deep breath and then spoke. “Because they didn’t kill Becca. I did.”

Fifteen

ON IAN’S ORDERS
, Marisela used the GPS system in the Corvette to maneuver the car back to Boston immediately. If Tracy really had killed her sister, then she could be in very real danger from Yizenia’s determined bullets. For all they knew, Yizenia had been looking for Tracy, too, and Titan had led the killer right to her next target.

“Murder has no statute of limitations,” Tracy said softly, as Marisela shifted the car into fifth gear.

Marisela focused on the road, sparing Tracy only a quick glance and a soft pat on her thigh. “You didn’t murder your sister?”

“Yes I did.” Tracy sniffled, but contained her tears. Marisela expected Tracy to continue, but she was looking around the car, as if expecting Ian’s voice to break in again.

With a sigh, Marisela spoke aloud. “Ian, I’m disengaging the communication device for a few miles.”

“Understood,” he said. “We have a car on the way to intercept you, to watch your back until you get Tracy safely to the office.”

“Thanks. “ She flipped off the radio, then glanced at Tracy with a smile. “There. No one’s listening. No one but me.”

“You could testify against me,” she said. “I could go to prison. Maybe I deserve to.”

Marisela bristled. She didn’t need Tracy indulging in her emotions. Painful as they were, Marisela needed the facts.

“Give me a dollar,” Marisela suggested. “A dime. Whatever you got.” She’d seen this on television. On the lawyer shows. She figured the same privilege applied to private investigators, because Ian had reassured Denise Bennett in the hospital that since she was his client, he could not be compelled to testify against her.

“I don’t have any money on me,” Tracy said.

Marisela frowned. She didn’t have any cash on her, either. “Okay, give me the keys to your truck,” she suggested. It was a stretch, but all laws were elastic in her way of thinking.

Tracy complied.

She tossed the keys in the console. “Okay, you gave me your truck as collateral. You’re now my client. Anything you say to me is protected. Besides, in a court of law, it’d be your word against mine, and no judge or jury is going to consider me a credible witness.”

“You don’t have multiple stays in drug rehab on your record,” Tracy pointed out.

“No, but the record I do have includes a laundry list of misdemeanors and one particularly ugly felony.”

The GPS on the car instructed Marisela to get onto the highway, so she slowed long enough to make a quick lane switch. She checked the rearview mirror and noticed a car following closely behind them.

She held up her hand to Tracy, who’d opened her mouth to speak.

She flipped on the radio-based communicator. “Ian? Tell me those are the Titan agents behind me.”

“Not in the mood for evasive maneuvers?” he asked.

“Tracy’s been through enough terror for today,” she quipped.

“Look behind you.”

The headlights on the car blinked twice.

“You’re so sweet,” Marisela crooned.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Ian said. “Headquarters out.”

Marisela once again turned off the communication system. “Now we can both feel safe and you can tell me the whole truth.”

Marisela wished she didn’t have to keep her eyes on the road. She often relied on observation to decide whether or not someone was telling the truth. But then, why would Tracy lie? She was, after all, admitting to murder.

“Becca was furious when Brad broke up with her,” Tracy began, her voice crisp and clear and, Marisela guessed, just a bit angry. “He was so perfect, you know? Tall, muscular, handsome. Rich. I think rich was what turned Becca on most of all. But after a few months, she started getting annoyed with him. She said he was too much of a gentleman. He like, hardly ever wanted to make out with her and when she’d get all hot and heavy on him, he’d pull back. Say stuff about respecting her.”

“What a load of bull,” Marisela commented. The guy was using her for something—just not for sex.

Tracy laughed nervously. “Yeah, I guess it was. Anyway, he got tired of her complaining and he dumped her.”

“And he was immediately interested in you?”

Marisela caught Tracy’s frown out of the corner of her eye.

“I was always hanging around. I guess I was an easy target.”

“You don’t seem flattered.”

A sob caught in Tracy’s throat. “It wasn’t Bradley I was in love with.”

Though she couldn’t see a player going for a girl like Tracy—quiet, a little shy, not rich like him—the signs were all there. “You loved Evan Cole,” she concluded.

Tracy nodded silently, a tiny whimper spilling from her lips.

“Not to speak ill of the dead or anything,” Marisela ventured, “but weren’t the two of you…different?”

“Oh, God, yes. I didn’t even think he knew I was alive! But when I needed him, he was so good to me. He…”

“He what?” Marisela prodded.

“He protected me,” Tracy admitted in a rush. “No one knew. No one knew he was there that night. Not until after the funeral. He came to see me. Snuck over to my house in the middle of the night. Threw pebbles at my window! God, I’d dreamed of him doing that so many times, but not like that. Not to tell me what he told me.”

Marisela remained silent, waiting for Tracy to finish the tale. When Tracy didn’t continue on her own, Marisela cut to the chase. “What happened that night? Why did Rebecca take you and Raymond Hightower to that island?”

“She said she had something to show us,” Tracy said, her voice laced with disgust. “She wanted to ruin everything. She wanted to prove that Bradley didn’t dump her because of her, you know? That it wasn’t
her
fault. She suspected that Brad and Craig were doing something in that tent that night. Something they shouldn’t.”

Marisela nearly slammed on the brake, but managed to maintain a steady speed. “Craig Bennett is gay?”

Tracy shook her head. “I don’t know! Becca said he was. She said so once we were on the island and were just feet away from the tent. She burst in and started screaming and Bradley came out and he wasn’t wearing anything and Craig was huddled in the corner. I didn’t stay. I ran. How could she? She’d been so cruel and mean. To expose Bradley that way, in front of his brother? God, what had she been thinking?”

Marisela blew out a whistle of a breath. “Your sister didn’t fuck around. She wanted revenge. She went for the jugular.”

Tracy gasped.

“Sorry,” Marisela said quickly.

Tracy’s hair flew around her face as she shook her head violently. “No, no! You’re right. She was horrible, and every step I took away from that tent, every twig I crunched under my shoes, every bramble I yanked out of my hair, made me angrier and angrier at her. She’d ruined everything! Brad was my way to stay close to Evan, who I thought didn’t even know I was alive. And Brad was nice to me. Treated me like a lady. With respect. I didn’t care what his reasons were. After what she did, I knew…everything…about him and Craig was going to get out. My life would be torn apart and I would never see Evan again. Bradley would be destroyed, probably sent away by his family. I was so furious! Maybe I meant to kill her. Maybe it wasn’t an accident.”

At this, Marisela pulled over. When the tail caught up behind them and the agents rushed out, she rolled down the window and waved them back.

Tracy was crying again and Marisela turned to her, taking hold of the woman’s quaking hands.

“Tell me what happened,” Marisela insisted.

Tears streaked down Tracy’s cheeks. Her words came out in a rush. “When I ran away, Becca followed. She was screaming about how right she was, how no one would laugh at her again for getting dumped by the big jock who was a queer. She was practically cackling with glee, not for one minute realizing how humiliated Brad was, how humiliated I was. How none of us deserved this. She couldn’t just tell me? She had to drag me out and show me? I could hear the boys yelling at each other. Brad and Raymond. Brothers who were always best friends. She’d ruined that, too. She was so selfish!”

Marisela nodded. While she admired a good scorned-woman tale and had a few of her own to tell, she winced inwardly at the damage Rebecca’s tantrum had caused.

“What happened next,” Marisela encouraged.

Tracy took another deep breath. “I just wanted to get away. I was going to take the boat and leave Becca and go home. I didn’t want to see her or talk to her. But I got confused in the woods and I got lost. Becca caught up to me. She was still laughing. She grabbed my arm. I pulled away. I told her not to touch me. Ever! That I hated her. But she wouldn’t stop. She kept grabbing me. I pushed her. She fell. I ran. I got lost again, but Evan found me.”

“So he was there,” Marisela said.

Tracy nodded. “He’d snuck away from his parents’ party to hang out with the guys. I guess he had no idea what was really going on. Anyway, I practically ran into him. I was hysterical. I tried to tell him what happened, but I couldn’t get it all out. I told him I pushed Becca, that she fell, that I had to get away. I started running and he stopped me, said I was going to end up in the marsh if I kept going in that direction. I didn’t know. He brought me back to the boat Becca had stolen, and I took it to shore. I went home. I showered and went to bed. I kept expecting Becca to come home and yell at me or laugh at me, but she didn’t. Then I figured she was staying away to punish me.”