by Barb Han
“I’m sorry to hear the news.” Dawson had no doubt in his mind that Jesse Lynch was not the type to hang himself in his cell, especially considering they’d caught him before he’d done anything to the young coed. The case against him wouldn’t stick if he had a decent lawyer.
Summer was a different story altogether. But then all he’d done was chase her. He hadn’t actually caught her. All the evidence against him was hearsay.
“It’s a shame,” Wexler said in a tsk-tsk tone. “Young people today have a lot of emotional problems. A university kid was sitting on the side of the road the other day with a flat tire. He was bawling and pacing. I calmed him down and told him I’d help him. I was tired. On my way home from a long day but if it was my kid, I’d want someone to stop. So, I’m working on the tire and he stops crying but instead of jumping in to help, do you know what he does?”
Wexler paused.
“Can’t say that I do,” Dawson supplied.
“He gets on his cell and starts snap-ticking a friend...or whatever that social media site is. The one where the kids send messages to their friends instead of calling.”
Dawson wished Wexler would get to the point.
“I had to tell him, no-no. Get the hell off that thing and get over here. You’re going to learn how to change a tire.” He finished his sentence in ta-da fashion.
“Next time he’ll know how to do it himself.” Dawson had no idea how to respond or how this story was linked to Jesse Lynch’s hanging.
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. I can do it for him and he’ll never learn or I can tell him to put the damn phone away and pay attention. These kids are lazy and the minute anything goes wrong, they fall apart.” Wexler might believe that about Jesse Lynch but Dawson didn’t.
Based on what he knew so far, Lynch was street-smart. He got by working the streets and taking what he wanted. He was from the wrong side of the tracks though. Not a kid who got busted for a dime bag of weed and thought his parents would never speak to him again.
This kid knew how to survive.
“Was he alone in his cell all night?” Dawson asked.
“According to the night watch, he was.”
Dawson didn’t like the sound of that. It could mean the killer was someone on the inside or had connections. The violin string bothered him, though.
“Thank you for letting me know about Lynch. That’s unfortunate,” Dawson said.
“Such a waste,” Wexler said.
“Can you do me a favor?” Dawson asked.
“Sure, anything.”
“Transfer me to Detective Libby.” The quiet on the line sent another warning flare.
“She isn’t around.”
Dawson wasn’t so sure what that meant but it sounded like a sore subject.
“When will she be back?” he asked.
“She’s not with the department anymore,” Wexler supplied.
“What happened?” Dawson asked.
“She left the department about two years ago.”
“Do you have a forwarding address?”
“I can transfer you to personnel,” Wexler offered.
Now Dawson needed to decide if the sergeant was involved or just complacent. His instincts said the latter was true.
“I’ll call back another time.” Dawson wanted to give the impression he didn’t care all that much, so he added, “It’s not that important.”
Wexler seemed satisfied with that answer. “You take care.”
“Will do.” He ended the call. When he glanced up, he saw Summer studying him.
“What happened to Jesse Lynch?” Her forehead was creased with concern that their first lead had just dried up.
“He was murdered in his cell last night, but the department is calling it a suicide.”
Stunned, Summer took a couple of steps backward until she sat in a chair at the small table. She seemed to pick up on the implication.
“I checked all the names of the politicians in Austin and didn’t find a single Charles, Charlie, Charley or Matthew and no relation to the last name of Shank.” Dawson reviewed his findings or lack thereof with her.
“So, Lynch is gone.” She paused like she needed a minute for the news to sink in. Like saying it out loud made it that much more real and scary. “What about the detective on the case?”
“She quit the department six months after Cheryl’s murder.” The timing of her resignation was suspect as hell. The whole situation reeked of foul play.
“And this is the same department that is going to investigate my sister’s murder?” Summer brought her hand up to her face.
“They gave Cheryl’s case to a young detective. I’m guessing they didn’t expect her to do a very good job being so green,” he stated.
“Except that she stayed with it. We thought she was pulled off the case and it was marked cold, when it turns out she left the department. What would make her do that?”
“I’ll ask Colton to look into it and see if he can dig up some information. He has a trusted contact at Austin PD and that might be our best route. I can call human resources but they won’t be able to give out personal information about the detective.” Her exit must have been the reason the investigation stalled.
“What would make her up and leave like that?”
“Bribery. Threats. Your guess is as good as mine. If we can figure out where she landed after leaving and how she’s living now, we’ll have a better idea of the reason.”
And just who the department was trying to protect.
* * *
THIS NEWS WAS BIG. It screamed cover-up. And if the same person killed Autumn, there’d be no justice for her. If the person was so big or connected that he could make a detective leave her job and a witness be killed in jail and marked as a suicide, how could they bring him down? Who would listen?
“I got away,” she said under her breath. “He must’ve had eyes on the jail in case one of his minions got picked up.”
“Or Lynch used his one phone call to the wrong person.”
“Why not just kill him before?” she asked.
“He wasn’t done with the job, for one. Plus, the body count was racking up.”
“There were two guys chasing me.” She wondered what had happened to the second one.
“It’s possible he’s still out there. Once word gets out in their circles that Lynch is dead, the others will likely go underground for a few months. Maybe even hop over the border.” He referred to Mexico. “There are plenty of little towns to get lost in.”
She’d read about Americans living in both countries. It was easy to move back and forth with US citizenship. She’d also read about young people going over to party and never coming back. Many border towns were dangerous. But then, Scrappy wasn’t exactly a college coed and he wasn’t exactly innocent.
“I doubt Sean Menendez has the kind of connections necessary to pull off a jail murder.” Dawson was right about that.
“Agreed.” She didn’t care how creepy the maintenance man was, he’d be hard-pressed to find the resources it took to kill someone while in a jail cell. “Do you think we can stop by and talk to him or the property manager anyway? Maybe I can get some information about my sister from the staff.”
“It doesn’t hurt to stop by for an interview. I also need to let my brother know what’s going on.” Dawson paused and stared at his phone. “No one at Austin P.D. knew your sister had been murdered.”
“The coroner must be honest,” she observed.
“I’ve known him a long time. He’s always been one of the good guys.”
“If you ever needed proof the coroner reported the death but it was covered up by Austin P.D, I think you just got it.” She picked up her coffee cup and took a sip. The burn felt good on her throat. “You said Yarnell has been living in hell ever since Che
ryl’s murder. I can’t imagine what he must’ve gone through with a department bent on hanging a crime on him.”
“The guy was in pain learning about his ex. She’d tried to call him and his new girlfriend picked up. She said a few choice words to Cheryl and that was it. She never tried to contact him again and then she shows up dead.” Dawson studied his cell phone screen. It started going off in his hand like crazy.
He immediately stood up and started pacing. A feeling deep in the pit of her stomach caused her to be nauseous because the look on his face said it was bad news—news about his beloved family.
“Sorry, I need to—”
“Don’t apologize, Dawson. Your family is just as important as mine.”
He stopped and looked at her, a bit shell-shocked. And then he nodded, smiled and made a call.
Summer was confused by his look of surprise. His family was important to him, and to her. He was becoming important to her. There was something about living in fear of her life for the past few weeks that made the grand scheme of things crystal clear. Family came first.
And maybe clarity had to do with the fact that she’d lost hers. Summer had always believed in family. She’d just never really had more than her sister.
She couldn’t help but overhear Dawson’s conversation despite the fact he’d gone into the bedroom for privacy. There was news about his father’s case. An address came up for a possible suspect.
Dawson ended the call before walking into the room, a look of despair darkened his eyes.
“I overheard bits and pieces of your conversation. I’m sorry—”
He shook his head before raking a finger through his thick curls. A couple laps around the room later, and he seemed to calm down enough to tell her what was going on.
“Do you need to go investigate?” She didn’t expect Dawson to stay with her under the circumstances.
“One extra person would just be in the way. My brothers are all over it and I’m needed here.” The look on his face said he wanted to be with his siblings.
“You don’t have to do this, Dawson. Your family needs you and I wouldn’t want you to have any regrets about—”
He wheeled around on her so fast, she stopped midsentence.
“Last time I checked, you were family, too.” His voice was sharp, and his eyes shot daggers. “But if you don’t want me here then say the word.”
Her entire body stiffened as she geared up for a fight. Before she could open her mouth to argue Dawson shot her a look of apology. He put a hand up and took another couple of laps.
Summer drew in a few breaths meant to calm her but all she ended up doing was breathing in more of his spicy and clean scent. She tried to form words but none came.
All she wanted was to stand up and put her hand on his chest to stop him and get him to breathe. So, that’s exactly what she did. Summer stood up and then stepped in front of him, forcing him to stop. Hand to his chest, she locked gazes with him.
He started to speak and clamped down, compressing his lips instead.
She could feel the moment the air changed from anger and frustration to awareness. Awareness of their hearts pounding against their rib cages. Awareness of the chemistry that had been sizzling between them since the moment they’d met. Awareness of their raspy breathing.
Call her wrong, but one look in his eyes made her think he wanted to reach out to her as much as she needed to feel him. She ran her fingers along the muscled ridges of his chest. There was only a thin layer of cotton preventing her from skin-to-skin contact.
Dawson brought his hands up to cup her face. He looked at her with a longing so deep it robbed her breath.
The need to feel his lips move against hers was a physical ache. She tilted her face toward his and he brought his lips down on hers.
Summer brought her hands up to his shoulders to brace herself, digging her nails in when he deepened the kiss. His hands dropped and his arms looped around her waist, bringing her body flush with his. She could kiss this man all day. She wanted to kiss this man all day.
She couldn’t.
Reality lurked and they’d come to their senses in a minute. But for right then, Summer didn’t care about his past or hers. Nothing mattered except this moment happening between them, a moment they both wanted so badly they could hardly breathe.
She felt that kiss from her crown to her toes and when his tongue dipped inside her mouth, heat spread through her. She ignored the fact he was the best kisser in her life and the other obvious fact that he’d be mind-numbingly amazing in bed.
The other facts, she couldn’t ignore so easily.
They didn’t have a lot of time to waste. Kissing him had been a luxury. And she needed to pull back while she still could.
Easier said than done.
With a deep breath, she managed to break away from those full lips of his—lips too soft for a face of such hard angles.
One look in his eyes said they were playing with fire.
Chapter Seventeen
Dawson pressed his forehead to Summer’s while he took a minute to catch his breath. Being with her was doing things to his heart that he never knew possible. Rather than get inside his head about what that meant, how that changed things for him, he refocused on just breathing with her.
He knew one thing was certain. He’d had great sex in his life before and none of it would compare to what he would have with Summer. He meant that on every level. She had that rare kind of beauty that started on the inside.
Her smile, rare as it might be, was so genuine she radiated. She smiled from her soul, if that made any sense. Hell, he’d never been the poetic type, but she made him want to put his attraction to her into words. He just needed to find the right ones first.
There hadn’t been much to laugh about lately but when she did he could swear it was the most beautiful sound. There wasn’t a musical instrument in existence that compared to her, and hearing it did things to his heart that he’d tried to shut down long ago. It made him think of foreign things like forever—something he’d thought would never be possible after the way his marriage ended.
He’d cared about Autumn and had been determined to make things work because of the child he thought she was carrying. There was no forcing his feelings when it came to Summer.
Her face was blue skies and sunshine after a storm. Her mind kept him on his toes. And the fire burning inside her made him think life with her would never be dull.
But that wasn’t on the table. He wasn’t sure he could go down that road again with anyone. If he did...he’d want it to be with Summer.
After feathering a kiss to her lips, he cleared his throat and took a step back, hoping for a little clarity. Looking into her eyes only muddied the waters for him even more.
Damn.
He needed more coffee to wake him up because he wasn’t thinking clearly. He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t let things get out of hand with Summer and he had every intention of keeping that commitment to himself.
Besides, with his personal life in upheaval, this was the worst possible time to add more confusion into the mix. Summer didn’t deserve that, either. She needed a strong shoulder to lean on while she got her bearings. The woman was fully capable of handling herself and yet he wanted to be her comfort in a storm.
Best not to confuse the sentiment with emotions. He’d keep himself in check better than he had been. For Summer’s sake.
* * *
THE APARTMENT COMPLEX downtown wasn’t exactly the kind Summer could see her sister living in. It was most likely what she could afford, and that broke Summer’s heart even more. Why hadn’t Autumn reached out for help? Why did she live like this? Was this place better than being with Summer?
She reached inside her purse where she kept the “Summer” necklace and rolled it around in her fingers. In a strange way, touching thi
s piece of junk jewelry made her feel more connected to a sister who she admittedly didn’t know very well.
This was the last place she would’ve looked for Autumn. Maybe that was part of the reason her sister rented an apartment here.
Dawson parked the truck and they both got out. The office was a small brick building with double glass doors. The sign said it was open. She took a deep breath and started toward the entrance.
For the life of her she couldn’t figure out why her sister would’ve left twenty-five thousand dollars sitting in a bank account in her name without touching it. The money had been a gift from Dawson. It was free and clear with no expectation of payback.
Had Autumn regretted getting him involved in her life? Had she walked away and tried to minimize the damage?
If she didn’t take anything from him, did she think she could convince herself the lies she’d told him were for his protection? It was possible she convinced herself that her disappearing act was harmless.
Did she leave Dawson to go back to the secret boyfriend she’d been involved with in the past? All signs pointed to just that. She remembered what Dawson said about women in abusive relationships. She just wished she’d known what her sister was going through. She could’ve been there for Autumn. Her sister wasn’t alone.
A rogue tear escaped thinking about Autumn.
Summer wiped it away and stepped inside the glass doors. A little bell rang when Dawson opened the one on the right. Inside there was a tiled foyer. Beyond that was a great room overlooking a small pool. There was a kitchenette and two offices.
An overeager youngish woman dressed in a pantsuit bounded into the room. She had Shirley Temple curls and wore too much makeup to pull off the innocent look.
“Hello, I’m Marcy.” She stuck out her hand toward Dawson.
Her gaze lingered a little too long on his face and Summer wanted to snap her fingers at the woman to get her attention.
“Dawson, and this is my wife—”