Sugar Free (15 page)

His thrusts a bit deeper.

When he can't concentrate on the kiss anymore because I know he wants to concentrate on getting us off, he pulls his mouth from mine, releases his hold on my arms, and puts one palm on the table for leverage. He pushes up slightly and then he's able to really let me have it.

The condo is filled with the sound of the table creaking as we fuck and our heavy pants, and I get closer and closer to the finish line.

So close, almost there.

Then my phone rings.

Beck doesn't even stop pounding inside of me, but does look above my head at my phone. “It's a 408 area code,” he grunts at me.

“That's Detective Remmers,” I manage to gasp out as his cock consumes me. “Should we answer it?”

“No,” he groans as he slides in deep. “Let him leave a voice mail. More important things right this minute.”

My phone rings three more times but then Beck's hand is in between my legs, rubbing my clit while he fucks me and I don't hear the phone anymore.

“Beck,” I cry out as I start to come, my back arching off the table.

“That's my girl,” he mutters, and then he starts jerking inside of me with a long groan.

He immediately rolls us to our sides, legs still intertwined and his dick still wedged deep inside me. With his long reach, he grabs my phone and hands it to me.

We're both still breathing heavy and layered in sweat, but I manage to access my voice mail, put it on speakerphone, and we listen.

“Sela…Detective Remmers. I pulled your file, and just wanted you to know, everything was done properly. It was submitted to CODIS and we have a receipt for it. I couldn't find it at first, but it was mislabeled. So yes…the DNA we collected is in CODIS, and if the man that raped you gets put into the system in the future, we'll get a match. It was great hearing your voice today. Stay strong and call me if you need me again.”

My eyes snap to Beck's, who looks just as perplexed as I feel.

“JT didn't rape Caroline,” I murmur, as the implication of what I just learned sinks in. JT's DNA from my rape is in the database. It should have triggered a hit with Caroline's case but it didn't.

“He was saying that just to torture you,” Beck says. “But thank fuck…thank fuck we didn't say anything yet to Caroline.”

Yes…thank fuck. We would have destroyed her for no reason whatsoever.

The relief I felt over finding out that JT didn't rape Caroline only lasted for a bit. Sela and I dragged ourselves off the dining room table and spent the rest of the day in bed, both of us buoyed by that news.

But now, as I sit back in the same courtroom and listen to the proceedings around me, my stomach gets knotted back up with anxiety again. Periodically, I'll look behind me to see Sela and Caroline there, giving me looks of encouragement. I dared to glance only once at Candace and Colin Townsend, who thankfully weren't glaring at me but were talking quietly with ADA Hammond as she leaned over the gallery wall before court started. Still haven't heard a word from my parents, and that neither surprises me nor makes me feel bad. They're a nonissue in my life.

Doug had said the preliminary hearing could take anywhere from half an hour to several hours, depending on how good their evidence was. If they were building a circumstantial case, it would take longer so they could lay it all out. It was up to the judge to listen to it and determine if there was probable cause to move forward. As Doug explained, it was a low threshold for the district attorney to overcome, the standard being if the facts presented would cause a person to have an
honest and strong suspicion
that a person is guilty of the crime.

This doesn't bode well for me, because all of the financial motives they think are driving me are enough for most people to have a strong suspicion that I did it.

Currently, an evidence tech is on the stand while ADA Hammond leads her through a series of questions about what was found at the crime scene. I watched as they identified color photos of JT's body and bags of hairs and fibers. Doug had told me that it could take weeks for that to all get analyzed forensically, but that doesn't hold up the criminal justice process.

After the tech comes the medical examiner, but his testimony is short and sweet, and nothing surprising. JT died of massive blood loss due to a single stab wound to his carotid artery. The other stab wound was inconsequential. Although a murder weapon had not been identified, they believe it was a letter opener that JT's housekeeper said he keeps on his desk but had never been recovered. The medical examiner opines that the wounds look to be caused from an instrument such as a letter opener.

Then we get to what I believe to be the meat and potatoes of their case. ADA Hammond calls Detective Amber Denning to the stand. She leads her through some questions regarding investigative protocol, eventually leading her up to her interviews with me.

“And how many times did you interview Mr. North?” Hammond asks.

“Twice,” Denning replies. “Once at his condo the evening we found Mr. Townsend's body, and then again last Wednesday when he came into the station voluntarily with his attorney.”

“What was his demeanor during those interviews?” Hammond asks.

“He did not seem surprised when we arrived at his condo to advise him of Mr. Townsend's death,” Denning says as she flips through her written reports she must have made after. “But he was cooperative and answered our questions. He was also cooperative during the second interview.”

I'm glad she doesn't mention the fact I got pissy with her at the end, but I expect that's because she's a professional and wouldn't stoop. Probably irrelevant anyway.

“And in the course of those interviews, did you learn anything that would lead you to focus in on Mr. North as a suspect with a sound motive for murdering the victim?” Hammond asks smoothly.

Denning nods. “Two things stood out. Mr. North had tried to buy Mr. Townsend out of their business on a few occasions and Mr. Townsend would not sell out. He seemed to be battling issues with drugs and gambling, but those weren't factors that could cause Mr. North to terminate their agreement and force Mr. Townsend out. We were able to gather all of the financial records of Townsend-North, and the estimated worth of the company was right at three hundred and seventeen million dollars.”

Hammond makes a low whistle sound, like she's astounded to hear that amount, when everyone in this courtroom knows damn well it wasn't news to her. “And what was the other thing that stood out?”

“We discovered that Mr. North and Mr. Townsend were actually half brothers, both sharing Beckett North, Sr., as a father. We learned that Mr. Townsend was going to get half of Mr. North's inheritance.”

I can't help it. I look over my shoulder at Colin Townsend, and I can tell by the look on his face that this is not news to him. Either he's always known or the ADA told him so he could be prepared to hear those things in court, but he sits ramrod straight on the wooden pew-type bench and listens with rapt attention.

Then I turn even further in my seat to look at the other person that this
will
be shocking news to. Caroline stares right back at me, her eyes accusatory that I would keep something like this from her. I'm going to have to answer for that secret once we get this shit behind us. Hindsight is twenty-twenty and all that, but clearly, this is something I should have told Caroline a long time ago. Just never thought it would ever have any bearing on either of our lives, but it turns out it's a fact that could end up tearing all of us apart.

ADA Hammond asks a few more questions about her interviews with me, including my alibi. She also brings up the fact I suggested this was done by a disgruntled Vegas bookie who didn't get paid. Denning merely testified that they searched JT's house and office, including phone records and bank transactions, and simply could find no evidence other than the fact he'd been assaulted by unidentified assailants the day before his death.

“Detective Denning,” Hammond asks bluntly. “Do you believe Mr. Townsend's death was related to this alleged gambling debt?”

“I do not,” she says firmly. “We could find no evidence, and even Mr. North admitted to us that Mr. Townsend was given a few days to come up with the money. It made no sense for this alleged bookie not to honor the deadline, as he stood to get a lot of money.”

“Thank you,” Hammond says, and then moves on. “Now, in the course of your investigation, did you come up with other evidence that would give Mr. North motive to kill his partner?”

“Yes,” Denning says as she flips through her file. “All going to the theory he wanted Mr. Townsend out of the business, but in searching Mr. North's office at home, we found a copy of a signed agreement between Mr. Townsend and a Miss Melissa Fraye outlining the mechanics of a sexual rendezvous that would occur between them that involved a rape fantasy. We interviewed Miss Fraye and she acknowledged she did not sign the agreement. We believe Mr. North was perhaps trying to use that as blackmail to get Mr. Townsend out of the business.”

What the fuck?

I start to lean toward Doug to tell him that's absolutely untrue and that I saved that woman from getting raped, but he's busily taking notes.

Denning continues. “We also interviewed Mr. Townsend's secretary, Karla Gould. She said that the two owners' relationship was extremely volatile, involving many arguments that were loud and disruptive in the office. It was always Mr. North coming down to Mr. Townsend's office to instigate these encounters. She had even heard Mr. North on one occasion make a death threat against Mr. Townsend. Overall, it's clear they did not have a good relationship and that Mr. North was trying everything he could to get him out of the business, but was unsuccessful about it.”

I can't help myself. I lean in to Doug and hiss, “That's not true. Out of anger I said something like ‘I could kill you, JT' or something like that, but it wasn't a death threat.”

Doug nods in understanding as he scribbles more notes.

Hammond asks a few more questions, but right now I'm so angry at the way things are being misconstrued I have a subtle ringing in my ears. I say subtle because I don't miss the last question that starts to put the nail in my coffin.

“Detective Denning, anything else from your investigation you believe is relevant?” the district attorney asks.

“After the victim's body was found and we set up a police perimeter so we could start our investigation, we posted an officer to keep an eye on the surroundings. The officer assigned to that duty reported seeing a white Audi A4 turn onto the street where the murder occurred, but then pull into a driveway and leave by the same route it arrived.”

“And that seemed suspicious to you?”

Denning shrugs. “Could be, or it could be someone lost, but we did subsequently confirm that Mr. North drives a white Audi A4.”

Yeah…I hear the gasp in the courtroom from some of the spectators and I want to bang my head on the table in front of me.

“Did Mr. North ever mention to you coming to the victim's neighborhood on that night?” Hammond asks.

“No,” Denning says. “In fact he maintains he was at his condo the entire time. We've subpoenaed the GPS records from Mr. North's Audi, but we don't know what that will reveal at this time.”

I can't help myself. I turn myself all the way around in my seat to look at Sela and she gives me a halfhearted smile. I try to give it back but my lips won't fucking move. I don't dare look at Caroline again, because I know I won't get a smile from her after the revelation that JT's our brother, so I turn back around. Then Doug begins his cross-examination of Denning, which is very good considering what just occurred. He manages to poke enough holes in her testimony that it's a bit weakened, eventually getting her to admit that all of this is pure conjecture and speculation on a motive that may or may not exist.

Still, by the time Denning leaves the stand, I find myself rubbing my sweaty hands repeatedly on my slacks trying to get them dry.

ADA Hammond stands up and says, “Your Honor, we have one last witness…the state will call DNA analyst Michael Carbone to the stand.”

“What's that for?” I whisper to Doug.

He shrugs. “Most DNA takes a while to process, but they must have processed something fairly quickly. Relax. Probably just a hair of yours at the scene, but we figured they'd find that.”

And yeah…they could match that up, because when I was arrested last Thursday, they also had a warrant compelling my DNA. That was done by swabbing the inside of my cheek when I was processed into the jail.

A nerdy-looking guy with dark wavy hair and a huge Adam's apple takes the stand, nervously tugging on his tie. Hammond goes through his background with the Bureau of Forensic Sciences and asks about all of the samples that were retrieved during the investigation. It's boring, tedious stuff that I guess does nothing more than prove the samples are being processed correctly.

“Mr. Carbone, have you managed to process any of the evidence collected at the scene?” Hammond asks.

He nods and in a somewhat squeaky voice says, “A little bit…identification of some fibers and such.”

“What about DNA?” she asks.

“We've got several samples to go through, but we have processed one fully,” he says.

Hammond nods at him to continue.

“We always take a sample from the victim so we can use it to exclude against other samples found at the scene. So we usually run that first. We analyzed Mr. Townsend's DNA, and as we routinely do in all cases, also submitted it to the CODIS national database and we got an interesting hit.”

Holy fuck.

My blood freezes in my veins, disbelieving that they are going to out JT as a rapist. There's no way, but then again…if they pin my girlfriend's rape on him,
boom
! My coffin is nailed shut with motive.

“And what did the ‘hit' reveal?” Hammond asks, and I can hear in her voice that she can barely contain her excitement at the bomb she's getting ready to drop. I twist my head, look at Sela, who is watching the nerd on the stand with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“It actually revealed that Mr. Townsend's DNA matched an unsolved rape,” he says with no emotion.