Carved in Darkness (32 page)

“And then you followed her, dragged her off someplace dark and quiet.” She was reaching again, had no way of proving that it’d been him who took her, but as the words spilled out of her mouth, she became convinced that what she was saying was real.

“No—
no
. That’s not what … you think … I would never,
could never,
hurt Melissa. I love her, she was everything to me.” He took a step toward her, energized by his own desperation. “Most nights I lay awake, wishing I could find a way back there … maybe if I hadn’t been so gutless—maybe if I’d talked to her, she’d still be here.”

A touching declaration, but she wasn’t swayed. She held up her fingers, ticked off her points one by one. “You had time, motive, opportunity—”

“Motive? What the hell are you talking about? What possible reason would I have to kill Melissa? I love her,” he practically yelled at her.

I love her. Not
loved
. Sabrina felt her heartbeat do a double-tap against her chest. “But she didn’t love you. She despised you. Tell me that didn’t piss you off.”

Carson opened his mouth to say something but the screen door banged shut behind him, signally an abrupt end to their conversation. She looked up to see Wade Bauer standing on the front porch. He stood still and quiet, like he knew he’d interrupted something important and had done it on purpose. His eyes and nose were red like he’d been crying.

Carson turned an unsympathetic look on his friend. “What?”

Wade stalled for a moment, seemingly stung by Carson’s tone. “Charlie called, said he’s on his way. I finished processing the kitchen, and Zeke’s about done in the basement,” he said, shooting her little looks over Carson’s shoulder.

“Alright. Tell Zeke to walk the perimeter out here.” He turned toward the yard and shook his head. “He ain’t gonna find shit, but tell him to do it anyway. There’re a few disposables in the glove box of the Blazer. Go ahead and grab ’em—give one to Zeke. He can photo the outside while you do the in.” He turned to her, aimed an icy glare her way as Wade took the steps two at a time. “I think it’s time you headed on out, Inspector,” he said.

“Okay.” Reaching into her coat, she pulled out a card and held it out to him. “My cell number is on the back.” She tipped a nod to the house behind him. “If you’re innocent, then let me help you find out what happened to her,” she said. He took the card but made no promises as he slipped it into the breast pocket.

She left then, passing Wade on her way out the gate. On impulse she stopped him, held out her hand. “I’m Inspector Vaughn with the SFPD.”

He bobbled the cameras a bit, shifting them from one hand to the other, so he could take her hand. “Wade Bauer.” He gave her a hesitant smile and nod, looking over her shoulder to where Carson watched and waited on the porch.

“You were Melissa Walker’s brother, weren’t you?”

“Half-brother—same father. We weren’t all that close,” he said, shooting a confused look at Carson over her shoulder. “She was a good girl, didn’t deserve what happened to her.” He cleared his throat. “If you’ll excuse me?” He tried to step around her, but she blocked his retreat, not ready to let him go.

“How’d they bite up at Caddo?” She threw the question at him on the fly and he stared at her blankly for a second before giving her a sheepish grin.

“Truth be told, we didn’t fish much. It was just an excuse for me and Jed to get out of town. This time of year can be hard on him.” He cast another worried glance behind her then looked over his shoulder at Michael. He turned back to her. “Look, I’m sure you can take care of yourself, you being a city cop and all, but that one’s trouble. He may look harmless, but trust me, he ain’t.”

She looked over his shoulder. Michael was where she’d left him, leaning against the hood, glaring at them both. She wasn’t sure who Wade was looking at—there was nothing harmless-looking about Michael O’Shea.

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” she said and let him walk away.

FIFTY
-
NINE

M
ICHAEL HAULED HIS BAG
in and dumped it on the floor. Put his laptop on the bed and looked around. Smoke-yellowed walls and a dark brown mess stretched out on the floor that looked more like matted fur than carpet.

Same motel—same room, even—that Lucy’d found him in, blind drunk and ready to eat his gun. She’d saved him. In return, he’d gotten her killed.

He looked at Sabrina and felt that irrational flare of anger again. Added to the anger was lust. He wanted her, but his want had a possessive bend to it that was messing with his head. If it was just about sex, he’d be fine with it, but it wasn’t. He
liked
her.

And didn’t that just fuck everything up?

He hadn’t spoken to her in nearly an hour. Wasn’t really sure what would come out of his mouth if he did. He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at her. “You hungry?”

“Starved, but—”

“Not the diner. There’s a pizza place across the street these days,” he said, pretty sure that the last thing she wanted was to face Tom twice in one day.

She looked relieved. “Sounds good.”

He nodded and headed for the door.

Sabrina looked around at the people scattered throughout the restaurant. Fathers with their families crowded around tables, eating pizza. Brothers and sons bellied up to the bar. Friends and co-workers drinking beer and watching the game.

The man who hurt her was here, in Jessup—not a few thousand miles away and under the assumption that she was dead. He had her within reach and knew who she was. She kept looking, hoping that one of them would trigger something—a memory, a twinge—but there was nothing. There was only the certainty that it could be anyone, that he could be standing right in front of her and she’d never even know it.

Michael was doing the same thing: looking around, letting his eyes rest on every single face aimed their way. He was in a mood, pissed that she’d taken control of the Carson situation. What she had to say would probably make things worse, but it had to be said.

She waited for their waitress to take their order before she spoke. “Someone around here knows who I am.”

He sat back and nodded. “I know. If we can find out who it is, maybe we can find a way to pin Carson down.”

“You have any friends around here, besides Tommy?”

“No.” It was a short answer, obviously something he didn’t want to talk about.

She leaned forward, cocked her head. “Nobody? Old buddies? Old hookups? People you used to run with?”

“What are you getting at?”

She leaned back and shrugged. “Someone sold me out.”

He lunged forward in his seat. “And you think it was me? You think I told someone?”

She held her ground. “I’m sure you didn’t do it on purpose—”

“Oh, are you? How do you know? Maybe I did. Maybe I did it just to get you here.” His tone was ice-cold but she could see it. He’d come to the same conclusion. Something he’d done or said had opened the door, and knowing that he’d somehow been responsible for Lucy’s death was killing him.

“You might do some pretty awful shit for whoever it is you work for, but you wouldn’t do that to Lucy. Not on purpose.” She was sure of it.

He sat back. “You give me way too much credit. I
would
do that to her. That’s who I am,” he said.

Suddenly she was anything but hungry. She stood and looked around at the sea of faces pointed their way. “You know what your problem is?” she said, looking down at him. “You’re one of them. You believe everything they’ve ever said about you.”

“Because it’s true.”

“You wouldn’t know the truth if it ran up and kicked you in the balls. I know the truth. You loved your parents and your sister.” She leaned down, into his face until they were practically nose to nose. “You loved Lucy, and you would’ve died protecting her.” She straightened. “
That’s
the truth, whether you want them to see it or not,” she said and headed for the door.

SIXTY

S
HE WALKED.
J
UST PUT
one foot in front of the other and kept going. Didn’t even stop to think about what she was doing until she heard the footsteps behind her. Her heart took a flying leap at her throat, choked her with its bulk and took off at a gallop. She nearly gave into the urge to follow it. Instead, Sabrina reached into the small of her back and pulled the .38, spun around, and leveled it in front of her.

“Whoa!” Wade dropped the pizza box in his hands and flung his arms in the air, his eyes yanked wide with surprise and a good dose of fear.

She tipped the muzzle of the gun downward, aiming it at the ground. “What are you doing here? Following me?”

In answer, he aimed the key fob in his hand over her shoulder and pushed a button. An alarm chirped and the running lights on a late-model 4-runner parked on the street behind her flashed. “Just picking up a pizza.”

She sighed. “Sorry.” She tucked the gun into her waistband and stooped to pick up the box, took a peek under the lid. “Pineapple and jalapeño? Yikes.” She handed the box back, and he grinned.

“Yeah, my wife’s pregnant with our first. Believe it or not, this is one of her more normal requests. Ever tried peanut butter and beef jerky?” They started walking, side by side.

I’m going to be an aunt.

“That doesn’t even sound good.” She laughed and shook her head, remembered the way small talk between them had always been easy. He was right. They’d never been close, but they’d always been friendly. She missed it.

“I know, right?” They reached his car and he turned, gave her an awkward look. “I saw you and O’Shea fighting in there,” he said.

Yeah, you and everyone else.
“He’s upset about Lucy Walker.”

Wade gave her a look, nodded. “We all are. She was important to a lot of us.” He opened the passenger door. “Need a lift?” He tilted the box. “I’m on my way to have dinner with my wife, but I can drop you somewhere—”

“No thanks, I’m right across the street.” She took a few steps back, watched him drop the pizza box on the front seat. “Did you know Jed Carson found your sister in Yuma, just a few days before she disappeared?”

He gave her a hard look, closed his fist around his keys. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not. He told me so himself, just this afternoon. Why would he keep something like that from you?” she said, watching his face closely for a reaction.

He didn’t give her one. “If you’re looking for someone to turn against Jed, you’re looking in the wrong place.” He shook his head. “He’s my best friend, and he loved Melissa. Too much. Even now, after all this time—it’s killing him the way he can’t let her go.”

She knew that, had seen it when they’d talked. “An obsession like that could drive a person to do some pretty horrible things.”

“Not him. Not Jed.” He was still shaking his head, but she could hear it in his voice. Doubt. He was beginning to doubt his friend.

“Then who?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “All I know is that Jed loved Melissa too much to ever hurt her, and he took care of Miss Lucy. He always found time to help her if she needed it.”

She decided to shake things up. “I know you weren’t at Caddo.” Again, she was stretching, only this time he seemed to know it.

“We
were
at Caddo. Me and Jed. Together.” He shut the passenger door. “You get home safe, now,” he said before rounding the front of his car and climbing in. She stood on the sidewalk and watched him drive away.

SIXTY
-
ONE

S
HE WAS GONE.

Michael had the pizza boxed and left, intent on catching up to her, but when he hit the sidewalk, she was nowhere to be found.

He dropped the pizza and crossed the street at a dead run. He shouldn’t have let her leave—
what the fuck was wrong with him?
Panic clawed his chest, ripped him open, left him exposed.

He almost missed her, didn’t see her until he was nearly on top of her.

“Hey,” she said and his head snapped around at the sound of her voice. “You dropped our pizza.” She leaned against the wall next to the motel office, watching the street.

Relief was almost as painful as the panic. He closed the distance between them in two steps, grabbed her by the arm and pulled her close. She went stiff, but he didn’t care. He had to hold her, feel her against him in order to convince himself she was okay. She felt good—solid and strong. He held her even tighter.

“Can’t breathe,” she said, trying to gain a few inches between them.

“Don’t care,” he said. He crushed her against him, buried his face in her neck, breathed in her smell and held it in his lungs. She was okay. He didn’t want to think about what those few seconds he’d thought he’d lost her had done to him. It was too much, too soon. His feelings for her were messy and unmanageable. It was unsettling, not being able to keep them in check. It was also something he didn’t want to think about. Not now. Not ever.