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Authors: Amber Lynn Natusch

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BOOK: FRACTURED
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“Well, at least you won't have to go to jail for Matty's murder.”

“What?” I exclaimed, wheeling around to face him. “I was a suspect? Holy shit, Cooper!”

“Of course you were,” he said flatly.

“Wow,” I muttered to myself as I sank in my seat. “I just never thought about the authorities, but I guess it makes perfect sense. I was the last one to see him alive." I tried to process what he had said. The last thing on my mind had been the human authorities, but it was an oversight of epic proportions. Why wouldn't I have been a suspect? I was the last known person he had seen that night.

That reality brought about an entirely new revelation.

“Wait! Why am I
not
a suspect, Cooper? I should be. There is no good reason why I wouldn't still be considered one. In fact, my absence should only strengthen their case," I rambled as my mind started to pull the pieces together. “Double holy shit, Coop! I
could
go to jail for murder! Why would you joke about this?”

He gave me his 'don't be such a dramatic blonde' face, forcing me to sink down further into the seat.

“I'm not going to go to jail for murder?” I asked. He shook his head no, once.

“Why am I not going to jail?”

He graced me with that same condescending expression.


Sean...
” I whispered. I should have factored him into the equation long before then.

“Yet another mess he had to clean up for you.”

“Seriously, Coop. I know I deserve the attitude, but I'm going to need you to take the hostility down a notch or two. Just for today. Please,"

I pleaded, not able to deal with any more digs even though they were well deserved. “I'll make you a list of healthy outlets myself. Jogging, Tai Chi...
ooooh
, how about pottery.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Point made. I'm sorry,” he replied, throwing both hands up in surrender.

“Hands on the wheel! Hands. On. The. Wheel!”

He looked over at me in all my craziness, giving me his most annoyed face. All I could do was snicker in response. Apparently, we were both a wee bit jumpy and prone to overreacting that morning.

Before I could make a flippant remark, a sobering reality slammed its way into my mind.

“Cooper,” I started, my tone questioning. “If I'm not a suspect, then what am I?”

“Technically,” he started with a sigh, “you're a missing person.”

Missing person...

“Oh my God. Are there people out looking for me still?”

He gave me a grim look.

“Not anymore. Your case is still considered open, but Boston PD

and Portsmouth PD both assume that you were murdered too, and your body never washed ashore like Matty's."

“Boston? Why are they involved? And what do you mean 'washed ashore’? Matty was never in the―”

“Sean makes things go away, Ruby. He wanted to get the heat away from town. My guess is that he dumped the body in the Charles River somewhere and it got dragged out to sea with the current. He washed up along the coastline."

“So why is Portsmouth still involved then?”

“Because that's where you were last seen,” he replied somberly.

“Alan questioned me. I told him the truth, that you walked out of our apartment that night and never came back." He paused for a moment and took a deep breath. “I also told him that I had no idea where you were going or who you were meeting up with, which was partially true. They made me take a polygraph. Guess I was a suspect for a little while too."

“I'm so sorry, Cooper. I had no idea.”

“Don't sweat it. Alan never believed I had anything to do with it from the get-go. He got me cleared ASAP so that they would focus their attention elsewhere," he said, blowing off his near-murderer status. “He's a good guy.”

“He's a
great
guy,” I corrected. “Maybe you should take me to the precinct. I need to see him.”

Cooper immediately turned the car around illegally in a one-way, then pulled up moments later in front of the police station.

“Do you want me to come in with you?” he asked, searching my face for his answer. Though my nerves were high, my resolve was strong.

Like with Peyta, it was something I needed to do on my own.

“No thanks, Coop,” I replied with a tight smile. “I'm going to fly solo on this one too.”

He gave a nod. “I'll wait for you out here. And don't even start to argue with me. You're not walking home by yourself. Not today," he added. “Not for a while...”

I leaned over and kissed him softly on the cheek, lingering by his face for just a moment or two longer than necessary. I'd missed his smell.

Cooper always smelled amazing.

“I'll be right back.”

I hopped out of the TT and made my way up the stairs to the precinct, my stomach knotting tighter with every step. I didn't know what I was going to do or say once I was inside; I prayed for some divine intervention.

Once through the heavy double doors, I approached the presumably bulletproof glass that encased the front desk. A woman at the tail end of her fifties looked up at me, not unkindly, and spoke into the intercom.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“Yes,” I replied, taking a deep breath. “I'm here about a missing person case.”

“I'll get one of the detectives down here right away,” she said as she picked up the receiver to page someone. "Can I please get your name, miss?”

“Ruby,” I said softly. “Ruby Dee.
I'm
the missing person.”

5

Her blank and disbelieving expression quickly gave way to realization, and she buzzed me through the locked entrance to the main offices behind her. She whisked me down the hall, jabbering on about news reports and knowing that miracles did happen; I stopped listening to her. My stomach was in my throat, and even though Cooper was certain I'd been removed from the suspect list, it did little for my confidence once I found myself in the lion's den.

I followed her down the winding corridors and up a flight of stairs to the second floor where the detectives’ offices were located. Rounding the final turn, I heard a door squeak as an officer emerged from the bathroom a half step in front of me. In true Ruby fashion, I slammed right into him, not having had time to react.

“Sorry!” I exclaimed, spinning off his body with the momentum he created. “I'm so, so―”

I stopped cold once our eyes met. Alan stood before me only feet away, staring down at my frazzled self as though he'd seen a ghost. I guess, in all fairness, it wasn't such an irrational response; for all intents and purposes, I had been considered dead. My case still being open seemed a formality at best.

Not knowing what to do, I stood paralyzed, just staring back at him.

The reactions I'd received since I returned had been far from what I'd expected. Cooper had yelled and pushed me away. Peyta had feigned indifference then imploded. I wasn't certain I wanted to know what Alan would do. He was a no-bullshit kind of guy who always cut to the quick.

He wouldn't sugarcoat anything for me, and in that moment, I could have used a little powdery dusting.

The moment seemed to go on forever until, thankfully, the receptionist returned to retrieve me, not realizing that she'd lost me in the first place.

“Ruby, I need you to―”

“I've got it, Alice. Thank you,” Alan said, cutting her off mid-sentence. His eyes never left mine.

“Of course, Detective Beauchamp,” she replied, scurrying around him to return to her post.

“It's really you,” he mumbled. I'm not sure he meant to actually say it aloud. Before I could even respond, he advanced on me, scooping me up in his long arms and crushing me against his chest. "They thought you were gone, but...I never believed it. I knew this little kitten had a few lives left.” He pushed me out to arm's length to look me over, and I squirmed under the intensity of his gaze.

“I missed you guys,” I whispered uncomfortably.

“Come on,” he said, his voice taking on a more serious tone as he surveyed the hallway. “Let's have this conversation somewhere more private."

He ushered me into an interrogation room to ensure we wouldn't be interrupted or overheard. I wasn't clear on whether our 'conversation' was to be on or off the record, but I went obligingly regardless. I knew I had some serious explaining to do.

Pulling out one of the clichéd metal-legged chairs, he motioned for me to have a seat and situated himself on the far side of the table.

“You want some water or something?” he offered.

“No. I'm fine, thanks,” I replied, avoiding his gaze. “How are Kristy and the baby?”

“Good. They're down at her mom's right now, taking care of her.

She finally got her knees done.”

“Oh, that's great. She really needed that surgery. I'm glad Kristy could be down there to help...”

When I looked up at Alan, he merely nodded in response.Our ridiculous attempt at casual conversation quickly died, leaving an awkward silence that hung in the room as we stared at each other across the table. While we did, I watched a visible shift in him occur. He went from concerned friend to hardened-beyond-his-years detective in an eerie switch of personalities. It seemed I wasn't the only one capable of those.

“So, let's start from the beginning, Ruby,” he said, tenting his fingers against his mouth. “I think that would be easiest."

“Okay...,” I replied, not certain as to where “the beginning” was.

“You were at your place with Cooper, then suddenly left. Were you alone?”

I lied.

“Yes.”

“Where were you going?”

“To meet Matty.”

“Where?”

I lied again.

“Just in town...down by the docks. We hung out there sometimes,” I added for credibility. “There's an older couple that lives down there.

They've seen us there together before. You can ask them."

“No need,” he said flatly. His cop persona was in high gear. “Did you see Matty?”

“Yes. I saw him.”

“And what happened then?”

“I don't know...,” I whispered, trying to conjure up something to tell him that would go along with what he already knew.

“Were you attacked?”

“I'm not sure. I―”

“Was there more than one of them?” he pressed, leaning forward on the desk.

“I can't say...I don't know.”

“You don't know?”

“I don't really remember.”

“You don't remember? What
do
you remember, Ruby?”

“Not much,” I mumbled weakly.

“Where have you been for the past three weeks?”

“I don't know.”

“You don't know?” he echoed disbelievingly.

“No. Alan, I―”

“Because I'm having a hard time understanding how your friend ended up outside of Boston when you said you met him here in town."

“I―”

“And I'm also having a hard time swallowing that you don't know anything about how he died or who did it.”

“Why are you doing this?” I asked, a tear escaping the corner of my eye. He'd been so happy to see me only moments earlier. It appeared the honeymoon period was over.

“Because you're lying to me, Ruby. It's not the first time either, and it's getting under my fucking skin at the moment because I don't believe that you would lie to me unless
someone
was putting you up to it or you were trying to protect someone,” he yelled, slamming his hand against the table. “And I have a pretty fucking good idea who that someone is too. What has he gotten you into, Ruby? What did he do? And don't think for a second that I don't know about what happened down at Langley.

Your buddy was down there when McGurney was executed. That isn't coincidence in my mind.”

I stared at him, totally flabbergasted. He thought Sean killed Matty―killed both him and McGurney, for that matter. And worst of all, he thought I knew.

“Alan,” I said softly, tears still staining my face, “Sean did not kill Matty. He didn't kill McGurney either."

“Really?” he asked, his tone dripping with disdain. “You weren't there when some fucker shot my friend in the back of the head, were you?"

I offered nothing in response.

“I didn't think so.”

“But Sean called me from Langley...when he was flying back. He
found
McGurney dead, Alan. Sean needed his help―information on a CIA cover-up that only he could provide. Why would Sean kill the one person willing to help him?" I asked, thinking my points were both true and valid.

“Because I have the sneaking suspicion that your friend
Sean
is a

'clean up your messes' kind of guy. I have no doubt that, once he got what he was looking for, he tidied up,” he rumbled, his tone low and menacing.

What was frightening about his accusation was that, as far as the supernatural world went, he was pretty much spot-on. "Is that what happened to the Carmilo kid? Was he a mess that needed to be cleaned up?”

I once again found myself meeting his question with silence.

“You'd be surprised at what I can dig up when the mood strikes me, Ruby,” he retorted. “I've been looking into your buddy, Sean. What's most interesting about him is the information I
can't
find. I can't seem to locate so much as an address for your little friend. I'm not even sure he has a last name.”

“Alan, please...it's been a rough day already and it's barely kicked into gear yet. It wasn't Sean. You have to believe me."

“Then who?” he yelled, pushing his chair back quickly to jump to his feet. “Who was it?” He loomed over me like I was a criminal he was trying to break. Too bad he wasn't aware of the irony the situation held.

“I don't know,” I whispered, crumbling weakly under his frustrated energy.

“Tell me, Ruby,” he said in a warning tone. “Tell me or this changes things between us. I've given you a lot of latitude in the time I've known you because I haven't wanted to believe that you were complicit in that man's actions. But if you want to sit here and lie to my face like I'm some rookie that you don't know―whose family you haven't become a part of―then you're going to find out what it's like to be on my wrong side.”

“Stop it!” I screamed, bursting under the growing pressure in the room. “It wasn't Sean. I didn't see who did it. All I
do
know is that I don't remember a thing. Nothing! The last three weeks of my life are gone, Alan. Gone! I woke up in the woods somewhere in Maine. Some people found me and brought me home. I didn't even know I'd been gone that long. And from the second I got back, I've had nothing but animosity and aggression thrown my way with a healthy dose of accusation to boot. I can't answer your questions when I don't remember anything from the time I saw Matty until the time I woke up naked in some random forest.”

BOOK: FRACTURED
8.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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