by Layla Reyne
“Lists of what?”
Sean lifted one finger. “People who knew Craig Rowan tried to rape her at that party your senior year of high school.” Another. “People involved in the alumni party incident last year.” And a third. “Anyone who knows the truth about Alice’s death.”
“Then do what? Cross-check them?”
Sean nodded.
“I can, yeah, but don’t you want Diego or Jaylen or Abel to do that? I play at being police, but they’re real police.”
Sean chuckled. “You finally watched The Wire with her?”
“She wore me down.” Trevor couldn’t help but smile, remembering that epic marathon-watching session. It was a three-day holiday weekend, a rare one that Charlie got off, and neither of them had left the beach house for days. Trevor’s pleasant memory was wiped away, though, by Sean’s next words.
“I don’t think this case is just about the Henbys.” He flipped his hand over under Trevor’s and laced their fingers. “It’s about you too. You might even be at the center of it.”
Trevor flinched, hard. “How do you figure?”
“Jefferson Marshall tried to railroad your tenure. Julian Hirsch stole your wife. Craig Rowan almost cost you your baseball scholarship.”
Trevor hung his head. “Christ, I never asked for this.”
“Then help me stop it.” Sean squeezed his hand, then released it and retrieved his phone. “Who did you talk to about that party senior year?” he asked as he opened the notepad app.
“Cal, obviously. Annie, Rachel, who I was dating at the time, and later on, Tracy. But there were a lot of people at that party, Sean.”
“Beth Martin, maybe?”
He shook his head. “She didn’t grow up here. Besides, Beth was in custody.”
“Evidence indicates she’s still involved somehow.” He tapped at his phone again and brought up another picture. A sharps bag in a trash can. “Those were at Beth’s place.” He swiped across the screen to a picture of empty vials. “It’s an anesthetic only available locally at HU Med.”
Trevor put together where Sean was going. “Tracy.”
“Did she know about Alice’s death?”
“Not that I’m aware of. Charlie and I didn’t know Cal was responsible or about the cover up until after his and Mitch’s funeral, and by then, Tracy was remarried to Julian. We hadn’t spoken in months.” Trevor closed his eyes and that nightmare image flashed again, along with a horrifying realization. “But she knew about the roses. Every Sunday, I used to bring Charlie red roses to take to the cemetery after dinner. But why, Sean? Why would Tracy kill for me when she hates me?”
“Revenge, to frame you, to get your attention,” Sean rattled off. “It’s a thin line between love and hate, even thinner when you throw in an unhealthy dose of obsession. She said it herself. She was tired of playing second best to Charlie. She’s demanding your attention.”
Sean’s phone vibrated on the table, an incoming text from Charlie flashing onscreen. “What’s it say?” Trevor asked.
“They’re at the cemetery. And she attached her lists.”
His face fell, and Trevor could guess at what he read. “Tracy on there?”
He nodded, brow furrowing. “When we questioned her, I didn’t think she had anything to do with it.”
“Maybe she’s a better actress than we thought.”
He didn’t miss the shudder Sean tried to hide as he stood, opened the door, and began issuing orders. “Call the hospital and see if Tracy was on shift last night,” he said to Jaylen. Then to Abel, who’d stepped out of his office, “Can we get an extra squad car out to the cemetery? Charlie and Marsh may need to bring Tracy in.”
“Ah, fuck,” the chief cursed. “She a suspect again?”
“Maybe,” Sean said. “Pending what Jaylen finds out from the hospital.”
Abel started across the bullpen floor toward the dispatch officer, and Sean turned back into the conference room. Trevor waited until he closed the door to voice the fear that had been steadily crawling up his throat. “Sean, if this is because of me…” He gulped, swallowing the lump in his throat, ignoring the goose bumps that rose on his arms. “How am I supposed to live with myself? After what it’s done to Charlie, to our family, to the victims…” He tracked Sean as he rounded the table and came to stand beside him. “We have to stop this,” he pleaded. “I don’t want anyone else to die because of me.”
Sean tugged him out of the chair and into his arms. “We’ll figure this out, Trev.”
He wound his arms around Sean’s waist and burrowed closer, hiding from the potentially catastrophic truth. “But at what cost?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Charlie glanced away from the crowd gathering at Julian Hirsch’s gravesite to the man beside her in the squad car’s driver’s seat who was rooting around in a yellow Taqueria Perez bag. “I’m sorry to drag you back to the cemetery. I’m sure this wasn’t how you planned to spend your afternoon.”
Marsh produced two burritos from the bag, handed one to Charlie, then slid back in his seat with the other, tearing away the foil. “Worth it for good Mexican food.”
“I also realize this is you distracting me from the events of this morning.”
“Is it working?”
Smiling, Charlie peeled back the wrapper around her own burrito and took a bite. She hummed in approval.
Marsh chuckled. “I can’t remember the last time I staked out something other than browser histories or network servers.” He paused to take a bite of his burrito. “And this food is damn good.”
“Burritos and college towns seem to go hand in hand.”
“Good cheap eats,” Marsh said. “Taqueria Perez is run by Diego’s family?”
Charlie drank from her bottle of Cheerwine, then set it back in the cup holder. “Yep. His parents and aunt relocated from Corpus Christi when he and Maggie had their first kid.”
“They have more?”
“Restaurants?” she replied, looking back out the windshield. The groundskeeper had let them take the maintenance road into the cemetery, and from their shadowed spot next to one of the utility sheds, they had a bird’s-eye view of the funeral. And of a mournful Tracy approaching the gravesite. She looked worse than when they’d last seen her. Her somber black suit hung loosely on her frame, and her face appeared pinched and drawn. Seeing her so frail, Charlie seriously doubted Tracy was the one who’d dragged Craig into the HU natatorium last night and questioned him with the force and morbid glee their killer had exhibited on that video.
“Kids,” Marsh said, snapping Charlie back inside the cruiser.
“Three in all.”
“And they manage okay with their schedules?”
“They do. It helps having family around. You thinking about kids?”
Dark eyes lifted to hers, a little winsome, a little wary. “I hadn’t really thought about it until recently. A friend in San Francisco has an almost three-year-old, and she’s so stinkin’ cute it makes me wonder, though I’m pretty sure she threw her daddy’s chess game the other day.”
She jutted her chin at his phone on the dash. “Is that what you’re always doing on there?”
“A lot of the time,” he said as he tore away more foil. “When things went sideways at work a while back, I went radio silent on him. Promised not to do that again.”
Charlie took another bite before getting back to Marsh’s earlier question. “I think kids and a career in law enforcement is doable if you want both. Plenty of folks do it, my father and grandfather included.”
“You?”
She smiled, remembering similar conversations from a decade ago. “Sean, Trevor, and I used to talk about adopting. If they still want to, I’d be down.” She took another bite, then shot a smile the cyber agent’s direction. “I’m sure they’d appreciate some cousins.”
“Gotta stop falling for unavailable guys first.”
Charlie nearly dropped her burrito. She caught it at the last second bu
t not her gasp. “Sean said—”
“I’m over it now,” he said with a dismissive wave. “Same way I’m over my friend in San Francisco. I see how happy he is with his husband, how happy Sean is with you and Trevor, and that’s all I want for them.” He took another huge bite of burrito. “But I do seem to be cursed.”
Charlie set her burrito on the dash and took a swig of soda. “I thought the same for a while. When Sean left and it didn’t work out with Trevor, I never connected with anyone else. It felt like a curse.”
“You broke it somehow.”
She smiled. “I hope so.”
He bumped her shoulder. “Me too.”
They finished their burritos in comfortable silence while keeping an eye on each new arrival at the funeral. No unexpected visitors so far. No sign of her sister yet either. She’d just picked up her phone to text Annie when a call from the station lit up the screen. “Talk to me.”
“Tracy alibied out,” Abel said by way of greeting.
Sean had texted her that Tracy was on Trevor’s lists too, and they were running down her whereabouts at the time of Craig’s murder. “She was on shift last night?”
“Accounted for all night. Got off at six this morning and went straight to the funeral home. Wasn’t her in the video.”
She leaned back in her seat, staring at the roof and silently cursing another dead end. “So either she had an accomplice, or she’s not involved.”
“If Beth was also an accomplice, that’d be three people involved,” Abel said. “That’s stretching it, sugar.”
“Charlie,” Marsh said, gesturing out the windshield. “We may have a situation here.”
Glancing forward, Charlie spotted her sister approaching the gravesite and Tracy cutting through the crowd toward her. “Abel, we gotta go.” She ended the call and slung open her door, Marsh exiting on the other side. They hustled to where Tracy and Annie stood arguing at the edge of the crowd. Charlie picked up speed when Tracy grabbed Annie’s arm and gave her a violent shake. “Tracy!” Charlie shouted. “Let her go.”
“Oh, perfect.” Tracy shoved Annie away as her gaze swung to Charlie. “You’re here too. You Henbys can’t leave well enough alone, can you?”
Charlie curled an arm around her trembling sister’s shoulders. Despite the tragedy that had befallen Tracy, Charlie had never been angrier with her than she was right then, not even after what she’d done to Trevor. “Marsh and I are here as part of the investigation, in case your husband’s killer makes an appearance. My sister is here because she’s your friend. And this is how you treat her? Manhandling her and embarrassing her in front of half the town?”
“Charlie, it’s okay,” Annie whispered at her side.
“No, it’s not. All you’ve ever tried to be is a good friend—”
“Bullshit,” Tracy spat, and Annie flinched against Charlie’s side. “She was only friends with me to stay close to Trevor and then after as a spy for you.”
“Annie has never said a bad word about you, not even after the divorce.”
“I haven’t, Trace,” Annie said. “I promise. I’m your friend too.”
“I don’t believe either one of you.” Tracy took a menacing step forward, and Charlie shuffled in front of Annie, Marsh at her side.
“Fine, don’t believe us,” Charlie said. “But when you wake up tomorrow or ten days from now and realize you’ve lost one of the best friends you’ll ever have, do not come looking for my sister. I don’t want someone like you around her anymore.”
“Charlie.” Annie squeezed her hand. “Let’s go.”
“Do I make myself clear?” Charlie said, her eyes still locked with Tracy’s.
Tracy sneered. “Crystal.”
“Good.” She turned her back on Tracy and the onlookers they’d drawn, gathered Annie to her side again, and headed away from the gravesite.
“I was just trying to be a good friend.” Annie leaned into her. “Tell her I’m sorry.”
“I know, sweetie, but you’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”
“Get her home,” Marsh said when they reached the walkway that would take them to the cruiser or Annie’s car out front. “I’ll keep watch here.”
“Thank you,” Charlie said as she handed off the cruiser keys. “For more than just today. I’m glad Sean has a friend like you.”
Charlie waved her thanks to the officers in the cruiser that had tailed her to Annie’s then to the station. She’d hated having to leave her sister so quickly, Annie still shaken from the altercation with Tracy, but Sean had texted that Beth Martin was at the station, attorney in tow. As they were already pushing the limits on holding and transporting her, Charlie couldn’t delay.
She strode across the bullpen toward the conference room but was intercepted halfway by Trevor’s “Charlie!” Before she could blink, he was right there in front of her, arms circling her waist and drawing her into his embrace. “Thank fuck you’re okay.”
She returned the hug. “I’m fine, babe.”
He drew back enough to frame her face with his hands. “Annie?”
“Tracy caused a scene.” She smoothed her fingers over his forehead before it got too wrinkled with anger. “Annie’s shaken but home safe.” His heartbeat slowed a little beneath her other hand on his chest. “How are you?”
“Scared for everyone I love, but a little less so now that you’re here.” He leaned his forehead against hers and heaved a weary sigh. As much as this was wearing on her, she could at least focus on the police work. Trevor, on the other hand, was at the center of a storm that just kept intensifying around him. “What the hell is going on?”
“We’re going to figure it out. I promise.”
“Charlie,” came Sean’s voice from the conference room.
She leaned back and patted Trevor’s chest. “Let me go talk to Beth. See what else we can find out. We’ll check in with you after.”
Trevor reluctantly released her, and she half suspected it was only because it was to go to Sean. He held the conference room door open for her and the short, balding man across the table, Beth’s attorney Charlie assumed, stood. The bedraggled-looking woman, however, remained seated. Her mousy-brown hair was limp and greasy, and her brown eyes were dull and ringed with dark circles. She looked tired, scared, and confused. What she didn’t look was guilty.
“Ms. Martin,” Sean said, “this is Deputy Charlotte Henby. Charlie, this is Beth Martin and her attorney, Aaron Goldstein.”
Charlie held out her hand, shaking both of theirs before lowering herself into the chair next to Sean. “We’d like to ask you some questions.”
“I’m being set up,” Beth blurted.
Aaron admonished his client.
“No.” She laid a hand on his forearm in a way that spoke to more than just an attorney–client relationship. “They have to understand I didn’t do this.” Her wide eyes swung back to her and Sean. “I was in Georgia last night. I wasn’t even here when the mayor got killed.”
Sean leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the table. “Did you know Mayor Rowan?”
“Other than seeing him on TV or around town in passing, no. I stay out of politics. I’ve got way more interesting things to do with my time.”
The remarks were dismissive in the way someone would speak of any politician, not of a murder victim targeted for his past misdeeds. If his furrowed brow and narrowed eyes were any indication, Sean thought the same. She tapped his foot twice beneath the table, and with a slight head tilt, he gave her the go-ahead to lead.
“Ms. Martin, why did you take off for Georgia yesterday morning?”
“I’ve been following the case in the news. I mean, like, how could you not? It’s been the lead story all week. It’s like a novel come to life—gruesome killings, the FBI investigating, police and press crawling all over campus. I’ve never been somewhere where the news happens right under my nose. I’ve been telling all my online friends about it. So exciting. But never in a million years did I th
ink I’d wind up in the middle of it. Leave me out of that part of the novel. Those marshals were hot and all but so not worth it.”
“Beth,” Aaron warned, attempting to curtail his client’s ramble.
“Sorry, got carried away there.” She folded her hands on the table. “I’m here because you found that sharps bag in my trash, right?”
“Yes,” Charlie said. “Would you care to explain that?”
“I took out my trash yesterday morning and found that bag in there. I volunteer at the hospital, so I know what goes in those. I already had on a pair of cleaning gloves, so I opened the bag. I’d heard enough about the case to figure those guys had been drugged, and when I saw the syringes and Diprivan bottles, I freaked. I have no idea where they came from. I know I should have called 911 or something, but I panicked. My fiancé lives in Georgia. Both he and his brother”—she patted Aaron’s arm—“are criminal defense attorneys. So I ran to them for help.”
“You couldn’t have just called?”
“Like I said, I was freaked. Like way the heck out.”
“My future sister-in-law acts before she thinks sometimes,” Aaron added.
Consistent with a busybody who talked and acted before she thought. Inconsistent with a murderer who carried out brutal, calculated killings.
“You said you didn’t personally know Mayor Rowan,” Charlie said. “Did you know Julian Hirsch?”
“Unfortunately.” Beth shifted forward in her chair and affected a conspiratorial whisper. “He asked me out last year, but I was engaged already. Even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have touched that man with a ten-foot pole, no matter how hot he was. Might as well have had love ’em and leave ’em stamped on his forehead. Then I found out he was sleeping with one of my students, Sarah Barnett. I know his wife, Tracy, from the hospital. She’s kind of a bitch, but I didn’t want that man taking advantage of Sarah. So I told Tracy. They hadn’t been married long. I thought she’d pitch a fit, maybe get him to back off Sarah. She’s a good girl, real smart, and I knew her father was running for office. I didn’t want her to get in trouble. That’s why I asked her about your officers coming to talk to her. I feared the worst.”