Minutes to Kill (Scarlet Falls)

by Melinda Leigh

  She hadn’t had an easy life. Brody resolved they’d talk about her past, just not today. But when? It wasn’t likely she’d be here much longer. She looked and seemed recovered. Even though the neurologist hadn’t cleared her for work this week, it would have to be soon. Then she’d be on a plane. Brody wouldn’t see her for weeks. Maybe digging into her emotions wasn’t the best idea.

  “Chet would be embarrassed if you found him like that,” he said.

  She nodded. “All right, but if you change your mind, call me.”

  “I will.”

  Her toast popped up. She buttered it and bit a corner. “Mac is supposed to be home today.”

  “Have you heard from him?”

  Hannah snorted. “Of course not. It’s Mac we’re talking about.”

  “What is up with him?”

  “He’s Mac.” She shrugged. “Of the four of us, Mac was the one who really needed a firm hand. Unfortunately, by the time he came along, there wasn’t one available. Mom was overwhelmed, and the Colonel wrote off his wildness as boys-will-be-boys behavior.”

  “What do you think it was?”

  “Escapism. Mac loved being in the woods because the forest wasn’t filled with medical equipment and suffering. My father was paralyzed. He was also in constant pain. Therapists and nurses were in our house all the time. The Colonel was tough, but he was also obsessed and bitter. Our home wasn’t always a pleasant place to be.” Hannah crumbled the remaining corner of her breakfast. “Grant was away at the military academy at least part of the time. Lee and I had our books, and Mac had the woods.”

  Brody looked down at the plate. Empty. He’d eaten without thought, and the toast had soaked up the pool of acid sitting in the center of his gut. Or maybe talking to Hannah had eased the tension inside him.

  “I have to go.” He stood, fortified by more than the coffee and food.

  “Will I see you later?” She set the mugs and plates in the sink and reached for the dog’s leash. Wagging, AnnaBelle rushed to the door and waited.

  “Want me to walk her?”

  Hannah donned a short trench coat and snapped the leash onto the dog’s collar. “No. She already had a long walk at five thirty. She can pee next to the deck.”

  Brody laughed. He leaned over and kissed her softly on the mouth. “Thanks for this.”

  “For what?”

  “Just this.” He kissed her again, and this time he lingered for just a few seconds. When he’d stopped here, there’d been an empty space in the center of his chest. But now he felt whole again. He was still exhausted, but she’d recharged him enough to get through the next couple of hours.

  What would he do when she was gone?

  Jewel curled on her side and put her arm over her ear to drown out the sound of Penny snoring from the next cot. The girl slept like the dead. Jewel would love to turn off her brain like that. As it was, she was too tired to keep her thoughts from straying to the past, to what happened six months ago in Toledo. To the beginning of her nightmare.

  Jenna contemplated the rows of candy. Boxes and boxes lined up on the convenience store shelves. Not the most nutritious food in the convenience store but small, compact, and easily slipped into a pocket. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday. Her stomach grumbled as pangs of hunger turned to demands.

  Her gaze swept the store. A guy was paying for cigarettes at the counter. The door buzzed as another guy came through it. The clerk’s interest was divided between making change and watching a tiny TV on the countertop. No one was paying her any attention.

  She angled her body away from the security camera that hung from the ceiling. Her hand swiped three packs of peanut M&M’s. She walked up to the register and dug into her pocket. She plunked one bag of candy and a dollar onto the counter. The other two bags nestled in the front pocket of her hoodie. The clerk rang her up, his eyes drifting to the old TV, where a rerun of Friends played on the six-inch screen.

  She pushed through the glass door out into the parking lot and zipped her hoodie against the cool air. Dawn was only a few hours away. In another few weeks, the temperature wouldn’t drop so much when the sun went down, but so far this May, the nights had remained cool. Pausing at the curb, she ripped open the top of the bag and shoved a few pieces of candy into her mouth. Sugar and chocolate burst on her tongue. She ate the rest of the small bag in three handfuls. She’d ration the rest. Where now? She needed a place to hide, to sleep. At night, staying out of sight was easy. But in the daytime, she was too visible. Not that her mom would be looking for her. She was busy with her new boyfriend, Lenny. Her last words had been “You’ll be back.” Then Lenny had called Jenna an ungrateful little bitch.

  The street stretched out in front of her, the surrounding blocks, the entire city, flat as a griddle. Her gaze crossed an empty lot and settled on a strip mall. Laundromat, check cashing, pawnshop, pizza. The smell of fresh pizza wafted toward her, her stomach cramping as if her nose was screaming that the candy in her pocket was inadequate. She needed money, but she’d been turned down for six jobs today. Legitimate employment wasn’t an option at fourteen.

  Yesterday, she’d slept in a shed behind her neighbor’s house, slinking out like a stray cat to feed at night. Maybe she could slip in there again if she was sure the neighbor was still asleep. She couldn’t risk being seen. If Lenny spotted her, he’d come after her, and she wasn’t going back home until he was gone. Resigned to another night nestled between two rusted bicycles and a stinking bag of potting soil, she stepped off the curb.

  Whatever. She wasn’t going home. Not while Lenny was there. For all her mom’s stranger warnings, she’d brought a creep right into their house. What really hurt was Mom not believing her when she’d told her what he’d done.

  Jenna tensed. Her instincts warned her as a tall man coming out of the store focused on her.

  “Hey,” he called, quickening his steps to catch up.

  Since Lenny, she was on alert for unwanted male attention, so she headed away from him.

  “I saw what you did,” he said to her back.

  His words stopped her. Fear whirled inside her. Would he turn her in? The cops would call her mom. She’d end up back at home, with Lenny sneaking into her bedroom while her mom was working the night shift.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She shrugged, setting her gaze on two young men in the rear of the empty lot. A discreet exchange was made, cash for a baggie.

  “Hey, I’m not judging.” He fell into step beside her. “Do you need a job?”

  She hesitated. Her mother’s endless warnings about talking to strangers echoed in her head. But Mom had brought home Lenny, so what did she know? “What kind of job?”

  “Waitressing.”

  “You got a restaurant?”

  He nodded.

  “What kind?” she asked, suspicious. In her world, people didn’t do other people favors. Everything had a price.

  He shrugged. “Pizza and sandwiches. Nothing fancy.”

  At the word pizza, her stomach got excited.

  “I’m only fourteen,” she admitted. As she’d learned, jobs required ID, and fake IDs required cash. How could she get one without the other?

  “Not a problem,” he said. “It’s all under the table. What’s your name?”

  “Jenna.”

  “Nice to meet you, Jenna, I’m Mick.”

  She squinted at him. The yellow glow of the streetlight highlighted a lean face. A thin scar bisected his cheek, but he was still good-looking. She guessed he was about twenty-five, with short black hair and a goatee. His jeans and T-shirt were clean, and his broad-shouldered body hadn’t regularly missed many meals. He didn’t live on the street. A gold chain gleamed from around his neck, just under the tattoo of a skull. There wasn’t anything special about him, no warning signs that she should have seen.

  Bu
t still . . . It seemed too easy. Nothing in Jenna’s life was ever easy. “I don’t know.”

  “Whatever.” He lifted a hand and started to turn away. “But a pretty girl like you don’t have to be dirty.”

  Her own body odor hit her nose suddenly, as if she hadn’t been able to smell it until he pointed it out. Humiliation spilled into her. The stolen candy weighed heavily in her pocket. Not much of a meal. “Wait.”

  He glanced back.

  “I’ll do it.” Waitressing was legit, right?

  He led her to a shiny town car. Light from the streetlamp reflected off the windshield like a mirror, blinding her to what was inside. She knew she shouldn’t get in. The car was way too nice for the neighborhood. But what else was she going to do?

  He started the car and shifted into drive. The locks clicked down. Jenna jumped. He drove away from the strip mall. She hunched in the leather seat and stared out the window. He pulled into the drive-through at Carl’s Jr. and ordered a burger, fries, and a Coke. A minute later, the Carl’s guy passed a bag through the car window. The aroma of fried grease hit Jenna’s nose, and her stomach flipped out with a loud gurgle.

  Grinning, Mick nodded at the bag. “Eat up.”

  She ate with the speed of a starving dog.

  A few minutes later, he pulled up in front of a door to a cheap chain motel room. Not even the dark of night could conceal the chipped stucco and peeling brown paint.

  Her eyes skimmed over the sagging roofline. “Where’s the restaurant?”

  “Closed now. You can crash with me.”

  Apprehension tightened around her meal. She set the Coke aside. How many other details did he leave out?

  They got out of the car. Jenna turned to run as a flash of panic rushed through her. But his body blocked her escape. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Jenna’s arms broke out in goose bumps. The apprehension she’d felt in the car grew. She backed away. “I changed my mind. I want to go.”

  He shook his head. “This is what’s gonna happen.” He stepped closer, his pretty brown eyes shrinking down to mean, cold marbles. “I own you now. You’ll do whatever I say, or I’ll hurt you. You try to leave, I’ll kill you. You escape? I’ll find you, and you’ll pay.”

  Mick’s hand shot out. He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her into the room. He released his hold, and she stumbled. Locking the door behind them, he crossed his arms. “Your new name is Jewel.” He walked to the dresser and picked up a bottle of vodka. “Time to get started.” He handed her the bottle. “Drink.”

  Mick put three blue pills in Jenna’s other hand. “These, too.”

  Jenna put the pills in her mouth. The vodka set her belly on fire. The back of her throat burned. But she did as she was told. Just looking at him, she knew he’d hurt her if she didn’t obey.

  Minutes later, her vision hazed, and her limbs turned lazy.

  “What’s your name?” Mick asked.

  Terror confused her. “Jenna.”

  She saw the violence simmering in his eye, but the backhand still shocked her. Pain sliced through her face. She pressed a hand to her stinging cheek. Lenny had handed out worse, but he was older and slower. She’d been prepared for the blows.

  “What’s your name?” he asked again.

  This time, she remembered. “Jewel.”

  “Good girl.” He smiled. “Say my name.”

  “Mick,” she croaked.

  He reached out. She flinched, expecting another blow, but he only lifted her chin. “Now it’s time for you to earn your keep. You do what you’re told, so I don’t have to beat you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Hannah parked Grant’s truck in the driveway and turned off the engine. The windshield wipers stopped, and light rain misted on the glass. In no rush to go inside and be alone, she checked her phone. It was almost four o’clock, and Brody hadn’t called. But he’d expected to be tied up all day. Though their meeting had been set for morning, the prosecutor had rescheduled for afternoon at the last minute. Hannah fought the urge to dial Brody’s number. Her discussion with the prosecutor had reopened wounds and left her raw.

  The text from Grant had only made things worse. He’d messaged her twice this week, and she’d lied outrageously to him both times. But she didn’t want him to come home. She didn’t want him to get upset, not after he’d made such good progress. She didn’t want her family anywhere near Scarlet Falls, but the house felt empty without them.

  Since when did she not want to be alone? She spent most of her career either working or alone in a hotel room. Now, returning to that lifestyle held little appeal. She didn’t want months to pass without a hug from Carson. She wanted to be here when Faith hit her next milestone. Something within her had changed, shifted, almost as if there was more room inside her. Empty places that needed to be filled, and only one man who could make her whole.

  Brody.

  The strength of her need for him left her as shaken as the prosecutor’s news. Under her instability, a thick layer of anger simmered.

  Her cell vibrated. Brody. Finally. Her heartbeat skipped as she answered the call.

  “How did it go with the prosecutor?” he asked.

  “She’s going to let him plead out.” The words tumbled out of her mouth with none of her usual control and measure. Her voice tasted bitter in her throat.

  “What?”

  “The defense attorney intends to haul Grant and Carson through hell, and there’s nothing the prosecutor can do to stop him. The charges against Grant and the motion for change of venue were just the openers. He has a big song and dance prepared about his client’s psychological state. He’s going to drag this out as long as possible.” Hannah clenched the steering wheel, her knuckles white with frustration.

  “Does she think he’ll get the change of venue?”

  “No. She’s fairly confident in the judge assigned to the case, but she is concerned about the chances of the verdict being overturned on appeal. Frankly, his argument has merit, and she knows it. Publicity on this case has been relentless.”

  “Much of that news coverage was generated by the defense,” Brody said.

  “Nobody cares about the source. The only matter under consideration is the possibility of seating an impartial jury. Plus, if Carson is put on the stand, there’s no telling what he’ll remember. This case could drag out for years. He’s six. He should be able to rebuild his life, not be constantly reminded of what he’s lost.”

  “There’s enough evidence that Carson shouldn’t need to testify. Surely, the court can protect him.”

  “But the defense is insisting. If Carson doesn’t take the stand, that’s one more reason for appeal.” She swallowed, her throat tasting bitter. “So, she’s going to let him plead guilty. She assures me, with murder and the other lesser charges, he’ll serve a minimum of twenty-five years before he’ll be eligible for parole.” But twenty-five years wasn’t good enough for Hannah. He should never see daylight again. Lee wouldn’t.

  “I’m sorry.” Brody’s voice held more disappointment than shock. “I wish I could tell you bullshit plea deals were uncommon, but they’re more common than trials.”

  “I know, and in reality, the death penalty isn’t an option in New York State, so the maximum sentence would be life without parole. The prosecutor thinks twenty-five years is good enough.” And she gets the conviction for her statistics. “But the assault charge against Grant will go away as part of the deal.”

  “I know you’re disappointed, but a plea will let Grant and Carson get on with their lives.”

  Disappointed? That didn’t even come close. Anger seethed through Hannah’s blood. The prosecutor had all but stated that she didn’t want to spend the next year working on a case with this many complications and unknowns. An overturned verdict hurt her numbers. A plea satisfied her boss. The
case would be closed. Her caseload was enormous, and her resources limited. She wanted to put this case away with no possibility that it would land back on her desk in eighteen months.

  But twenty-five years?

  Lee’s killer could still have part of a life remaining when he was released from prison. Her brother was gone forever. His children were orphans.

  “I’m sorry,” Brody said. “It’s not fair.”

  “No. But maybe she’s right. Maybe it would be best for Carson and Grant to let this go.” Hannah’s throat tightened. Carson would be thirty-one when the sentence was up. How would he deal with his father’s killer being set free?

  “I wish I could be there with you, but I have to go into another meeting with the chief and mayor about yesterday’s shooting. I don’t know when I’ll be available again. I’ll call you when I’m finished?”

  “Please.” She wished he were here more than was comfortable. He grounded her. His smooth demeanor offset her turbulence. He could be her ballast if she let him, and the loss of independence that realization represented sent wariness rippling over her skin like goose bumps.

  “I will.” Brody said good-bye and ended the call.

  Hannah got out of the car. She closed her eyes and turned her face to the sky. The wind shifted, carrying the smell of wood smoke and falling leaves to her nose. The cold rain refreshed her skin. She’d dressed for her meeting, but the business suit and makeup felt uncomfortable, wrong, as if she were wearing a costume. Her Prada suede pumps hurt her toes. She couldn’t wait to change into jeans and wash her face.

  She headed for the front porch. Her body was tired, the beauty of last night with Brody wiped clear by her meeting with the prosecutor. Politics had claimed another victory over justice. This shouldn’t happen. People like Lee and Kate shouldn’t be murdered. Places like Scarlet Falls shouldn’t be tainted by depravity.

  The dog barked on the other side of the door. Distracted, she opened her purse to retrieve her key. A movement in the shadow of the house caught her attention. A man stepped into the light and pointed a gun at Hannah’s chest.