Mine to Keep (22 page)

Trace’s head jerked up. Alex’s gaze snapped to instant attention. “Him?” Alex repeated.

Trace stepped toward Claire. Unlike Alex, he didn’t make the mistake of touching the other woman. “Claire,” Trace’s voice was low, soothing. “Ethan Harrison is still locked up. He had nothing to do with your sister’s death.”

Trace knows about her past.

And he also knew to treat Claire very carefully. He glanced over at Alex. “She just needs to see Sara’s face. Give her that.”

Alex nodded, but then he said, “You tell me what the hell is going on.” 

“Of course,” Trace murmured.

Alex waved toward Skye and Claire. “You two wait in the conference room, and we’ll get things ready.”

***

The conference room door closed with a faint click. Skye sat down at the narrow table. Claire didn’t. Claire wrapped her arms around her stomach and stood near the right wall.

Skye reached for the coffee pot that someone had conveniently set up for them. “Let me get you a cup of coffee. It might make you feel a little better.” Right. Like coffee would fix what was wrong with Claire.

“You’re not asking about Ethan.”  The words were sharp, accusing.

Skye shook her head.

“Is it because you already know?  Did Trace tell you?  Do you know all about my breakdown?”

At that, Skye flinched. “No,” she said softly and she put the coffee aside.
Definitely won’t help.
“I don’t, Claire.”

“You must think I’m so weak.”  Claire swiped at her tears. “You survived. I read your story—he had you for days. You made it out.”

“We each have our own hell.” Skye was coming to realize that statement was true more and more each day.

Claire rocked back on her heels. “Yes, we do.” 

***

“I should’ve known you’d be showing up, Weston,” Alex muttered. “Where Skye goes, you follow.”

They’d just left the main PD building and were taking the stairs that led to the ME’s office.

“I need to see the other bodies,” Trace said.

Alex glanced back at him. “And I’m just going to give you access to them because—”

“Because after what happened to Sara, you have to know that I’m not the killer. She was still
warm
when we got there.” Trace had touched her skin. He’d hoped that maybe—

Too much blood.

“You didn’t kill her, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t take out the others. And maybe you just sent someone else to kill Sara. After all, she blew your alibi to hell and back and you—”

“Showing me the bodies won’t make me any less or more guilty. But maybe… maybe I’ll be able to see something,” Trace said, his words rolling over Alex’s. 

“Something?” Alex parroted as he squared off with Trace. “That’s what we have an ME for. To find that ‘something’ left behind by the killer.”

He wanted to grab the detective and toss him against the nearest wall. “
Listen.
The killer is playing a game with me. You’ve got to see that.  He might’ve left a message for me
in the damn kills themselves
. Just let me see the bodies, okay? I won’t touch anything.  You can stand there the whole time and watch me.”

Alex’s jaw tightened. “One condition.”

“What?” Trace snapped.   

“Save me some time. I can go and dig into Claire’s past and find out who this Ethan Harrison is, or you can tell me now.”

Trace raised a brow. “So I’m doing your detective work for you.”

“You are such a dick. You already did the work, tell me—and we both know I’m going to research later to make sure you’re not just blowing smoke up my ass.”

Fine. “Ethan Harrison is Claire’s ex-boyfriend. She met him when she was a junior in high school…”

So young to meet such evil.

***

“I didn’t have a lot of money growing up.” Claire’s blue gaze seemed focused on the past. “But that never seemed to matter. So my clothes weren’t new. So I didn’t go on big vacations. My family was happy.
I
was happy, and then I-I met him.”

“Ethan?”

“He was the most handsome boy I’d ever seen. The first time he smiled at me, I swear, I felt that smile go straight through me.”

Skye knew exactly what Claire meant. She felt that way when she got Trace’s rare smiles.

“I worked at a diner in town, and he came in there one day. Everyone was whispering about him.  His dad was a senator, and Ethan…he drove this cherry-red convertible.  All the other girls wanted to ride with him.” Her voice dropped. “They wanted to do everything with him, but Ethan seemed to only want me.”

Hearing the pain in the other woman’s voice, Skye hurt for her.

Claire’s lashes lowered as she stared at the floor. “I hadn’t dated before Ethan.  I was nervous and scared, but he seemed so patient with me.  He sent me flowers.  Waited for me after work. He seemed so perfect.” She glanced up. “It didn’t take me long to realize that perfect was just a lie.”

***

“A few months after Sara came to work for me, she told me about her sister.” Trace remembered the way Sara had approached him. She’d been so hesitant. So protective.

“Claire had a boyfriend when she was a teen. He was charming to Claire and her family, at first, but the deeper the relationship went, the more his real side started to show.”

Alex cursed. “Let me guess, that real side was ugly.”

“If Claire was late for a date, he thought she was cheating on him. He started by yelling at her, threatening her, and then…he hit her.”

“Bastard.” Trace heard the fury humming in the one snarled word.

Trace nodded. Yes, Ethan Harrison was one sick bastard. “Claire was scared. She broke things off with him.  Her parents sent her out of town because they wanted her away from the guy.”  Trace’s lips twisted. “He had connections, you see. To an Alabama senator. That was his old man, and the punk was used to getting authorities to look the other way whenever he got a little rough with his girlfriends.”

Red stained Alex’s cheeks.

“But something was different this time.  Ethan didn’t want to take no for an answer. Not when it came to Claire. He went to see Claire’s parents, and when they wouldn’t tell him where she was…”

***

“He killed them,” Claire whispered.  “One shot to the head each. First my mother. Then my father. Th-the police said that based on the blood…they were probably kneeling. He made them kneel, right in front of him, then he shot them.”

Skye jumped from her chair and hurried to Claire. She opened her arms, then stopped.

I don’t like to be touched.

“He found me,” Claire said, still staring into her past. “Right after that. I think he must have searched the house until he found a note that I’d sent to them. He came looking for me at the cabin. He had the gun with him.”

“I’m so sorry,” Skye whispered.

“I didn’t know they were dead when he arrived. I’d been trying to reach them, but no one answered my calls.  He was walking toward me on the dock.” She gave a sad shake of her head. “It was an old, rickety dock at my grandfather’s fishing cabin.  Ethan’s convertible stood out there like a sore thumb. But he didn’t care who saw him. He didn’t care what anyone said. He was coming for me.”

“He didn’t get you,” Skye said, her voice hard. “You’re safe.”

Claire blinked. She seemed to
see
Skye once more. “He did get me that day.  He found me on the dock. He put the gun to my head. He made me get on my knees.”

Dear God.

“And he pulled the trigger. He laughed when I screamed and he told me that he’d already used those bullets.”

On Claire’s parents.

“He told me that I could be his or I could be dead.” 

***

“The senator couldn’t cover up two dead bodies. The cops started a manhunt, and they found Ethan two days later—he was in the woods with Claire.”

Trace could still see Sara in his mind. She’d stood in front of his desk, her voice soft, emotionless, as she’d told him this tale.

“A sniper shot Ethan in the leg. The cops got Claire away from him.”

“The leg?” Alex’s eyes turned to slits. “He should’ve aimed higher.”

Yes, he should have.  But the senator had been standing behind the sniper, and it had been
his
call.

“They took Ethan in and that’s when the SOB got real creative. His daddy got him the best lawyers he could, and they claimed that Claire was the mastermind.  That she was the one who’d seduced Ethan and pressured him into killing her parents. He was just an innocent boy who’d been led astray.”

“Tell me the jury didn’t buy that bull.”

“Claire tried to kill herself during the trial.”

Alex tensed.

“She was admitted to a psychiatric ward, and she stayed there for five months.”

“Sonofa—”

“The jury didn’t buy his story. They found Ethan Harrison guilty of both murders.”

“I hope they scheduled him an appointment with the needle or shoved his ass in the electric chair.”

“The judge gave him two concurrent life sentences.”  

“So what—the asshole could be out in fifteen years, provided he has good behavior?”

“He was almost out three years ago,” Trace said.  Sara’s image was crisp in his mind.
I know I don’t have the right to ask, but I need help. And I swear, I’ll work off the money. I will.
“His daddy was still throwing his money around, and he hired new lawyers. An appeal was going up before the court.”

“I’m guessin’ this is where you come in…”

“Sara thought it was a matter of money. Convincing the right people that Ethan Harrison needed to stay in jail. But, of course, bribery is against the law. You know that well,
Detective.”

Alex held his gaze. “Sometimes, it’s not about money. It’s about power. And we both know you have too damn much of that.” 

***

“People believed him when Ethan said I told him to kill my parents. I could see it…people who’d known me for my entire life were suddenly doubting me. Strangers called me a whore.  Men on the street shouted that I should die. So…I thought maybe I should.”  Claire glanced down at her wrist.  Skye saw the faint, white line there. “I’d almost bled out by the time Sara found me.”

I’m so glad Claire didn’t see Sara covered in all of that blood.

“I got better,” Claire said with grim pride.  Then she whispered, “But the nightmares never stopped.”

They were about two feet apart. Claire was a few inches taller than Skye.  A little younger.  But, on the inside, Skye felt as if they were the same.

“I have nightmares, too.” Skye said. “Sometimes, they’re memories. Other times, they twist. They become something else.”  

“
Yes.”

“But when I wake up each day, those nightmares fade away.”  That was the way it had been when her parents died, and that was the way it happened for her now.  “Because nightmares can’t hurt us. We’re alive. We’re getting through this world, one step at a time, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else says or what anyone else calls us.”  Skye willed Claire to believe what she was saying. “All that matters is that we know…we’re survivors.”

Claire rubbed at her eyes, obviously trying to stop the tears. “He almost got out a few years back. On some kind of-of technicality.”  Her chin lifted. “But Sara fixed that for me. She had connections, see. She used them.  They sent him back.  She told me that Ethan would never hurt me again.”

“She was protecting you.  Sara sounds like one incredible sister.”

“She was. I just-I wish I could’ve protected
her.
”

***

“What the hell is your deal, Weston?” Alex demanded. He jabbed his index finger into Trace’s chest. “You know I want to hate you.”

“Yeah,” Trace replied, “I got that clue.” 

“You’re twisted. I can feel it in you. I know because—”

“Because when you look at me, you see the same darkness that stares back at you from the mirror each day?”

Alex clamped his lips together and yanked his hand back. He stomped down the hallway.

“Dammit to hell.”
Alex’s growl.

Trace lifted a brow that the detective couldn’t see.

“Fine,” Alex snapped. “You can see the other two bodies, but you so much as touch them, and I’ll have you in a cage.” He threw a glare over his shoulder. “Understand me?”

“You’re welcome,” Trace told him.

More red heated Alex’s cheeks.

“And that ‘you’re welcome’—it was actually for me not going straight to the DA and demanding that your ass get yanked to traffic duty after that little stunt you pulled with the search warrant.” As if Trace had forgotten about that incident. He took his time heading down the hall. “You were right when you said I had plenty of power. Remember that the next time you feel the urge to get…overzealous with me.”

“The door…” Alex huffed out the words, “is to the damn left.”

Trace inclined his head. Then he opened the door.  Inside, the temperature was a good five degrees cooler, and the room smelled of bleach. 

And death.

A tall, curvy redhead appeared. She pushed her glasses higher on her nose and frowned at Trace. “Can I help you—”

“Dr. Dulane,” Alex said as he followed Trace inside, “we need to see the three stabbing victims.”

Dr. Dulane shook her head. “But I was just finishing some work on the female—”

“Sara,” Trace forced the name out. “Her name is Sara Kramer.”

Sympathy flashed over Dr. Dulane’s face. “Are you family?”

“Close,” Trace said.

Alex added, “Her family’s outside. Her sister needs to see the body. Get her…presentable, would you, doc?  Face only.  The woman out there needs some closure.”

Dr. Dulane pulled on a pair of latex gloves. “Seeing the dead here never gives them closure.” She inclined her head. “But I’ll do what I can.” Her gaze flashed back to Trace. “Come with me, and I’ll show you the others.”

She led them into the back. 

When Trace saw Sara, he stumbled to a stop.  Her body was drained of color now. Her hair spread behind her.  The blood had been washed away.  She looked—

Broken.

I’m so sorry, Sara. I will find him. I will make him pay for what he did.

Trace jerked his gaze off her, and he found Alex staring straight at him. “Watching my reaction?” Trace growled at him.