Текст книги "Vindicate"

Автор книги: Beth Yarnall

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Chapter 24 Leo

I’m trying really hard to focus on getting Zelda to tell me about Mrs. Wheeler, but Cora is sitting across the room in my line of sight right over Zelda’s left shoulder. I can’t believe Cora sexually propositioned me. And I can’t believe I almost didn’t take her up on it. She’s more than a quick summer fling to me. What am I to her other than a means to gain some sexual experience? If I give her what she wants, then what? Where does that leave me?

Because if I sleep with her I know it’s going to mean more to me than it means to her. And if I don’t she’ll eventually meet someone else and they might not make her first time everything it should be. She should be loved and cherished and cared for and have orgasms that shock her. She should be with someone who will take care of her and be there for the hard stuff. Not someone who will leave her.

But what choice do I have? I want her past August. She apparently wants me only for the interim. There is no place for me in her life unless she makes a place. Or I somehow make it hard for her to live without me. If I make the sex so good she won’t be able to live without it or me. Three hours away isn’t that far. People make cross-country relationships work all the time.

I smile at Zelda, pushing back all those thoughts. There’s another way I can make myself necessary to Cora—help her free her brother.

I leaf through the notebook I brought with me, looking for the entry about Mrs. Wheeler. It holds all the notes I’ve taken on Beau’s case and supports my story of a student studying a local case. Zelda’s curious about it. I catch her trying to read it upside down.

I start with easy get-to-know-you questions. I’m good at getting women to feel at ease with me. Before I know it Zelda’s opening up about a lot of other things.

“I didn’t believe Beau could’ve done it at first. I mean, what was done to her was so brutal.” Looking away, she sips at her coffee. “But the evidence was overwhelming.”

“The case file is one of the thickest I’ve ever seen. I’ve been going over some of the witness testimony, including yours. I’m sorry you had to go through that and I’m sorry you lost your friend.”

“Thanks. I still can’t believe she’s gone.”

“How long did you know each other?”

“A couple of years. When the apartment across the hall from me came available I called Cassandra right away. I knew she wanted to move close to campus. She wanted to be on her own, have the whole college experience, even if she was only moving across town. Her parents were very strict. I think she also wanted to get out from under that.”

“She liked having her own place?”

“Oh, yes. She even got a cat.” Her brow creases. “I wonder what ever happened to him. Maybe her parents took him in.”

“Going over the case, I noticed your downstairs neighbor”—I flip through my notebook for show—“Edith Wheeler didn’t testify in the trial. I tried to track her down, but I couldn’t find anything on her.”

“Oh, gosh. She probably died. I mean, she was old back then.”

“I couldn’t find any record of her death. I’m trying to put together as complete a profile as possible. You wouldn’t know how I could maybe find her, would you?”

She bunches up her forehead. “She had a cousin who used to visit.”

“She passed a few years ago.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. Did you try her husband’s niece? She used to work at an old-folks’ home up north somewhere. Mrs. Wheeler was always joking about how if she ever went up there they’d probably roll her into a snowdrift and forget about her until spring. She liked the beach. I couldn’t see her moving to a landlocked state, but you never know.”

“Do you remember the niece’s name?”

“Gosh.” She rubs her forehead. “I want to say it’s something like Roberta or Robin. She had a different last name too. I think it started with a D, but I’m not sure. It’s been so long since I’ve seen Mrs. Wheeler. I moved out right after Cassandra’s death. I couldn’t stand to live there anymore.”

She’s given us the first real lead on Mrs. Wheeler. I want to split and go check it out, but that would totally blow my cover. Instead, I ask her more questions about the case. Who knows? Something else might pop. She’s the closest person to Cassandra that we’ve been able to talk to and she was a key witness in the trial.

“Did you know Damien LeFeaux?” I ask. “He claimed to have seen Beau leave Cassandra’s apartment right after the murder.”

“No. I saw him for the first time at the trial. There was something not quite right about his testimony though.”

“In what way?”

“He said that he walked down Fletcher toward Seventh and turned right on Wardlow and that’s when he saw Beau. Fletcher dead-ends into Wardlow. He couldn’t have walked down Fletcher from that direction. Unless he meant that he walked away from Seventh Street and turned left onto Wardlow.

“It was obvious that he was a drug user. I imagine he just got confused. I don’t know. No one mentioned anything about it during the trial—not even Beau’s defense attorney.”

“You’re sure that’s what he said?”

“Yeah. I lived there for over a year. They didn’t bring Fletcher through until about two years ago, so unless he time traveled…”

“That’s a big discrepancy.”

“That’s what I thought. But then they had Beau’s DNA and him admitting to the police that he was there that night, so I didn’t say anything. I figured it didn’t matter if Beau really did it.”

“You really think he killed Cassandra?”

She grows thoughtful. I expected her to answer right away. Her hesitation makes me think the trial wasn’t the slam-dunk everyone thought it was.

“I didn’t at first. Or at least I didn’t want to. I knew how much they loved each other, but then they broke up and everything was so strange after that. When they arrested him I just couldn’t see it. I mean, what happened to her was so…brutal.” Her eyes fill with tears. “I knew Beau. He had to have had a major psychotic break to do something like that. It was just so sick.” I hand her a napkin and she dabs at her eyes. “She suffered so much.”

She starts bawling then. I glance across the room at Cora. She motions for me to reach out and take Zelda’s hand. I do, muttering apologies and words of sympathy. After a few moments Zelda gets herself together enough to speak again.

“No,” she answers. “I don’t think Beau could’ve done that to Cassandra.”

We talk a little more, but I don’t learn anything else new from her. That info about LeFeaux’s testimony could be the break we need with my dad going out to visit him tomorrow. Any leverage we can get we can use to discredit him. I’ve got to double-check the trial transcript against a map of the neighborhood just to be sure. I don’t want Dad going in there with incorrect information.

I walk Zelda to her car. “Thanks for meeting me. You’ve been a big help.”

“It was nice to talk about it with someone. Most people just want to sensationalize the gruesome parts. Cassandra was my friend. She deserves more than to be reduced to a notorious headline.”

Nodding, I take out my wallet and hand her two twenties. “I know you’re going through a tough time.”

She hesitates, then accepts it. “Thanks. Normally, I wouldn’t take the help, but…”

“We all need help every now and then. You helped me.”

As I watch her drive away, Cora joins me. “I saw that. That was very nice of you.”

I shrug.

“Did she tell you anything useful?”

“And then some. We need to go back to the office. I want to check on something Zelda said about the trial and I think I might know where Mrs. Wheeler is.”

“What did she tell you?”

“I’ll fill you in on the way.”

We climb into the car and take off. There’s a buzz running through me, making my skin itch. This is it. I can feel it. This is the lead we’ve been looking for. I can tell Cora feels it too. She’s animated in a way I’ve never seen her, gesturing with her hands and moving nonstop. I’m glad I got to be the one to give her this moment.

We finally arrive at the office. It’s dark, darker than normal. I look up at the sky, wondering if the clouds are covering the moon, and realize that the lights in the parking lot are all out.

Cora must’ve noticed that something was off too, because she doesn’t move to the stairs right away like she usually would. She stands by the open car door, her head cocked to one side like she’s listening. I’m listening too and scanning the building and the empty parking lot. Nothing moves. Our gazes catch across the top of the car. I put my finger to my lips. She nods and reaches into the car, shutting the interior light off. I wish I’d thought to do that.

I pull the gun Dad gave me from between the seats and motion for Cora to stay where she is. Creeping toward the stairs, I listen hard for any odd noises. A hand grips the waistband of my jeans and I nearly jump. Damn Cora didn’t stay put. I glare at her. She glares back. I should’ve known she wouldn’t listen. I motion for her to stay quiet. She rolls her eyes at me like “no duh.” Damn stubborn woman.

We edge up the stairs, careful not to step on the one board we know always creaks. I stay low as we reach the top. Cora does the same. The walkway is empty. And dark. The lights are off up here too. Unless there’s a power outage in the area, something’s definitely wrong.

Cora tugs on my waistband and whispers, “Should we call the police?”

“And tell them what?” I whisper back. “The power’s out?”

“You think it’s just an outage?”

No. “Probably.”

We creep along the walkway, past the front window of the agency. The blinds are drawn over the blackened window. The only sound comes from the occasional car passing by. It’s too late for anyone to still be working in any of the other offices. Most likely we’re on our own here. I’m starting to think Cora’s idea about calling the cops might be a good one. We reach the door to the agency and pause. It doesn’t look disturbed in any way, and yet…I push on it and it swings open. Just like at Cora’s house.

Cora jerks me back. I stumble into her, knocking her down. She’s still got ahold of my pants. I pinwheel my arms, but it’s not enough, and I go down too, landing on top of her. She makes the sickest noise I’ve ever heard—a grunt mixed with the rush of air leaving her body and a crack that sounds like a broken bone. She pushes at me. I roll off and look down at her. Her hands go to her throat. In the dimness I can see the panic in her eyes as she tries to catch her breath. Just then there’s a loud swooshing sound. Light flickers in the open doorway, but it’s not the right kind of light.

Fire.

I scoop her up and run down the stairs. Bending, I lay her down in the grass. I take my phone out to call 911.

KABOOM.

The building explodes behind me, knocking me on top of Cora. Fiery debris rains down around us. There’s a burning on my back. I roll to put it out. When I’m sure I’m not on fire anymore I go to Cora. She’s trying to reach her pants leg. I pat her leg, dousing the ember. Running my hands over her, I check to make sure she’s not on fire anywhere else.

“Are you all right?” I ask her.

“No.” She winces as she tries to sit up. “You landed on me. Twice.”

“Did you break anything?”

“I didn’t.” She points to my hand that’s resting on her thigh. “But I think you might have.”

I look down. The middle finger of my left hand is twisted, pointing in the wrong direction. My head swivels. The next thing I know I’m falling, then black.

Chapter 25 Cora

“Leo?”

I push at him until I finally roll him off me. Which isn’t easy. He’s a big guy. Oh, thank God. He’s still breathing. I can’t believe he fell on me three times tonight. And not in a good way. I glance up at the office building. It’s fully engulfed. Flames shoot out of the agency’s door and window. If Leo hadn’t picked me up and gotten us out of there, we’d be toast right now.

I pat his cheek. “Leo?”

He’s out cold. Could he be more seriously hurt than his finger? I run my hands over him, checking for any obvious signs of injury. His head, his arms, his chest, his thighs—

“A little higher and more to the middle,” he mumbles.

“Idiot.” I laugh in relief at his perverted joke. “Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Just my pride for passing out. And the finger. It burns like a son of a bitch.” He eases up to his elbows and gets his first look at the building. “Holy shit. That could’ve been us.”

“I know. You saved us.”

“Focus on that and not the part where I blacked out like a wuss.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. What about you? You scared the shit out of me up there.”

“As long as you don’t fall on me again, I’ll be fine.”

Sirens wail in the distance.

“Did you call them?” he asks.

“No. Did you?”

“No.”

“Maybe a passerby called.”

“Maybe.”

“That fire was deliberately set.” I shiver at the thought that someone could do something like that.

He scoots closer and puts his arm around me. “Yup.”

“Most people would’ve walked inside right away. We might’ve been inside when the fire started if you hadn’t been so cautious.”

“Probably.”

“This is more than breaking and entering. It’s attempted murder.”

“Maybe.” He examines his finger. “Nasty. Thank God I’m right-handed.”

“You’re being very blasé about this.”

“Not really.” He stands, brushes himself off, then holds his good hand out to me to help me up. “I’m thinking this is more of a message. And a way to get rid of evidence.” He brushes the hair out of my eye. “Your box was in there with everything you have on your brother’s case.”

“And all of our new notes and info.”

“I’m sorry, Cora.”

“Don’t be.”

“But this’ll set us back.”

“Not really. I made copies of everything. Just in case. I have them stashed somewhere safe.”

“Damn, you’re clever. More clever than the asshole who set that fire gave you credit for.”

“I also have electronic copies of the notes we made. I backed up my backup. Beau is too important to me not to.”

“My dad will be impressed. Hell, I’m impressed.” He puts his arms around me. “You’re pretty damn impressive, Bluebird.”

“So are you. Not counting the fainting.”

“I didn’t faint. I passed out.”

“Same thing.”

“My finger fucking hurts. Look at it.”

He shows it to me. It’s already swelling. We need to get him to a doctor. The fire trucks round the corner, their lights slashing red across Leo’s face.

I reach up, put a hand to his cheek, and kiss him. “Thanks for getting us out of there. I’m sorry about your dad’s office. And your finger.”

“I need to call him. He’s going to be pissed. This place was his life.”

“I bet he’ll just be glad you’re okay.”

While we wait for Mr. Nash we watch the firefighters do their job. Whatever the office building is made of doesn’t have a chance against the flames. Before we know it the scene gets out of control. More fire trucks arrive. The police close the street down. News helicopters circle overhead. A crowd gathers. I try to get Leo to have one of the paramedics look at his finger, but he refuses.

“Your dad will have to get here on foot,” I say. “They’ve blocked the street in both directions.”

“Uh-huh.” He’s not paying any attention to me or to what’s happening with the fire. He’s too busy checking out the crowd that’s gathered.

“Who are you looking for?”

“The guy who set the fire.”

I glance around at the people standing around. Could Cassandra’s killer be here, watching? I move in to Leo, needing his warmth, his strength. Out of instinct or habit he draws me closer to him, even though his attention is definitely elsewhere.

“You really think he’s here?” I ask.

“On TV they say the perp sometimes stakes out the crime scene or goes to the victim’s funeral. He wants to see the chaos he’s caused. He wants to relive the moment, relish in the notoriety of his crime. He wants to watch the fire burn. It gives him satisfaction. It’s a part of the allegory. Almost like reliving the crime all over again. He’s here. I can feel it.”

“Where?” I can barely get the word out.

“I don’t know, but he’s here.”

“Son of a bitch!” I jump at the sound of Mr. Nash’s voice behind us. “What happened?”

Leo tells him about the break-in and our narrow escape.

“Are you kids all right?” Mr. Nash asks.

“Yeah,” Leo answers.

“No.” I lift Leo’s arm to show Mr. Nash the bent finger. Leo tries to pull it away.

“What the hell?” Mr. Nash grabs Leo’s wrist, turning his hand in the flashing emergency lights. “You need to get to a doctor.”

“It doesn’t hurt…much.”

“Leo’s car’s blocked in by the fire trucks,” I tell him. “I’ve been trying to get him to have the paramedics look at it.”

“Take my car.” Mr. Nash gives me his keys. I give him mine. “It’s parked around the corner on Third. I’ll stay here and talk to the police, see if I can’t get them to tell me anything.” Mr. Nash heads for an officer who looks like he’s in charge.

I can tell Leo wants to protest, but I grip his arm and tow him toward the car. I can’t believe someone blew up the agency office. We have to be getting close for him to do something so desperate. Thank goodness I’m militant about my backup and he didn’t succeed in destroying my files on Beau’s case. Something nags at me as we squeeze through the crowd. There’s something familiar about this scene, reminding me of the scene in front of Cassandra’s house after her body was discovered—the chaos, the crowd, the emergency vehicles.

Out of the corner of my eye I catch a familiar face, gazing up at the burning building. I change direction, causing Leo to stumble to make the adjustment.

“Dylan?”

He blinks, clearly surprised to see me. “I heard about the explosion on the news.” Grabbing me, he wraps me in a hard hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay. I was worried when they said it was the agency’s building.”

I’m too stunned to do anything but let him hold me.

Behind me I can practically feel Leo’s irritation. “Hey, get off her.”

Dylan lets me go and looks past me to Leo. “Who are you?”

“Her boyfriend.”

“Her—” Dylan starts.

“He’s something, but not my boyfriend. Dylan Newman, Leo Nash. Leo, Dylan. Leo’s dad owns the agency. He’s helping me with Beau’s case for the summer.”

The guys shake hands, sizing each other up. If Leo was suspicious of Dylan before, that’s nothing compared to how he’s eyeing my brother’s friend right now.

“I’m sorry about your dad’s agency,” Dylan says, glancing up at the fully engulfed building.

“You really just came down here to see about Cora?”

Dylan’s gaze swings back to Leo. He doesn’t seem to like Leo any more than Leo likes him. “What business is it of yours?”

“Are you sure you didn’t just come down here to check out your handiwork?” Leo jabs a thumb toward the fire.

“What? You think I set that fire?”

“No,” I tell Dylan. “We don’t. Thanks for coming down to check on me. We’ve got to go.” I put my arm through Leo’s and drag him toward the car. “I’ll call you later.”

“The hell you will,” Leo mumbles, giving Dylan a backward glare.

“Not this crap again.”

“Come on. He’s a suspect, Cora. And he’s got the Forbidden Little Sister thing for you, whether you want to admit it or not.”

“What? That’s not a thing.”

“Ah, yeah, it is. He’s already ticked the Best Friend’s Girl thing off his list. You’re next.”

“No way. Even if I thought for a moment he had feelings for me he wouldn’t get far. I don’t think of him that way.”

“I bet Cassandra said the same thing at one point and he ended up banging her.”

I jerk to a halt. “He did not bang Cassandra. They just went out a few times.”

“Right. I’ve seen pictures of Cassandra. She was beautiful. There’s no way he didn’t try to get with her.”

“He might’ve tried, but that doesn’t mean he succeeded.”

“Zelda didn’t say it in so many words, but the gist I got was that ol’ Dylan back there slept over. A lot.” He makes air quotes around slept over.

“No.”

“You might think you know Dylan, but I know guys. And guys like sex. They especially like sex with hot chicks. You and Cassandra are definitely hot. I’m telling you he wants you.”

“You’re imagining things. He’s never made a single move toward me.”

“He’s working up to it with all that fake worry and touching. Lots of hugs and kisses. I’d put money on him making a move the next time you see him. If not, then he for sure will the very next time he sees you. You can also expect a phone call from him tomorrow.”

“Are you sure the pain hasn’t addled your brain?”

“My brain’s not addled.” We arrive at his dad’s car. He hits the unlock button on the remote and hands me the keys. “And we’re going to work out what exactly that something I am to you is.”

He climbs in the car, leaving me to sputter expletives at no one.