Daring Hearts: Fearless Fourteen Boxed Set

by Box Set

  “How are you feeling?” Shelby asked, obviously sensing my trepidation.

  I looked at her and pushed a half-smile onto my mouth. “Not great.”

  She seemed to hesitate before speaking. “We could leave, you know. It’s not like you have to go in there and do this.”

  I chuckled. “Don’t tempt me.” But the idea slid around the edges of my thoughts, poking me, enticing me, seducing me. What would happen if I didn’t show up? The consequences filtered through my mind. Turner would ask me to come a different time, and then what? What reason could I give for refusing? Any good citizen would want to help the police get a murderer off the streets. I sighed. I just need to do it now, and then I can move on with my life.

  “Well?” Shelby asked.

  My stomach roiled as I spoke. “I have to go in there.”

  She nodded. “I know. And I’m sure you’ll make it work, whatever it is you end up doing.”

  Her words gave me the courage to go through with it.

  “I’ll wait in the car,” she said. “You know, to keep an eye out for Baldy. Or anyone else suspicious.”

  I would have preferred to have her come with me, but it made sense for her to stay out here and keep an eye on things. I lifted my purse from the floor, then reached for the door handle.

  “Court, wait.”

  I looked at her. “What?”

  “Uh, maybe you should leave the pepper spray in the car. I mean, the police might frown on your bringing it inside.”

  “Good point.” I removed the pink canister from my purse and set in on the floor, then opened the door. “Wish me luck.”

  “Good luck.”

  I nodded, then climbed out, closed the door, and began walking toward the entry to the police station.

  I’d only gone a few steps from Shelby’s car when my phone rang. I dug it out of my purse and looked at the Caller ID.

  “Hey, Mom,” I said after swiping the screen.

  “Courtney, are you okay? I haven’t heard from you.”

  I laughed softly. “Actually, I’m at the police station.”

  “Oh, thank goodness. You decided to tell them what happened then?”

  Not exactly. “I’m here to speak with the detective.” I didn’t want to worry her by telling her all the details.

  “I’m so glad, Courtney. I feel so much better now. I’m sure once you tell him what happened today, he’ll make sure you’re safe.”

  Safety was a relative thing, and not something I was certain the police could provide even if they wanted to. Not if an entire gang wanted to silence me.

  “I’ll let you go then, sweetheart. Call me when you’re done, okay?”

  That phone call would not give her the news she was hoping for, and I dreaded making it. “Okay.”

  After we disconnected, I walked briskly to the doors of the police station, anxious about this, as well as eager to get it over with.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “Courtney, good afternoon,” Detective Turner said as he approached me. After entering the police station, I’d checked in with the officer at the front window and he’d told me Turner would be out soon. I’d waited several minutes, my stress climbing with each passing second.

  At Turner’s appearance, I’d nearly leapt from my chair, my nerves stretched tight. “Hi.”

  “I’m glad you were able to come in on such short notice.” He smiled like this was all routine—which to him it certainly was.

  “No problem.” Yeah, right. Out in the parking lot I almost changed my mind.

  “We’ll head upstairs where I’ll give you further instructions.”

  I forced a smile onto my face. “Great.” Crap. I followed him to an elevator, where he pushed the call button. A few moments later we entered a room with a rectangular table surrounded by chairs. That didn’t worry me. The object that brought on a rush of adrenaline was the large rectangular window prominently positioned on one of the walls.

  “This is Officer Bowen,” Turner said, motioning to a uniformed officer who stood in the room.

  He held out his hand. “Hello.”

  I took his hand, hoping mine wasn’t shaking noticeably. “Hi.”

  “Officer Bowen will be in the room with you while we do this,” Turner said to me. “Do you have any questions?”

  I shook my head.

  “Great.” He lifted a sheet of paper from the table. “I’m going to read you the instructions for this procedure, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  His gaze went to the sheet of paper and he began reading. “You are being asked to view a group of people. You will be viewing them one at a time. Please look at all of them. I am required to show you the entire series. They are in random order. Please make a decision about each person before moving on to the next one. The person who committed the crime may or may not be one of the people you are about to view. You should remember that it is just as important to clear innocent persons from suspicion as to identify the guilty. The officer administrating this procedure does not know any of the people who are involved in the crime.”

  He glanced at me, then continued. “The individuals you view may not appear exactly as they did on the date of the incident because features such as head and facial hair are subject to change. Regardless of whether or not you select the person, the police department will continue to investigate the incident.

  “The procedure requires the officer to ask you to state, in your own words, how certain you are of any identification. If you do select someone, please do not ask the officer questions about the person you have selected as no information can be shared with you at this stage of the investigation. Regardless of whether you select a person, please do not discuss the procedure with any other witnesses in this case.” He set the paper on the table and turned to me. “Do you have any questions before we begin?”

  There was one question that had been worrying me the most. “Will you be in here during this?”

  He shook his head. “No, just Officer Bowen will be in here.”

  Relief gushed through me. “Okay.”

  “Please sign this form that says you understand what I’ve explained to you. Officer Bowen and I will sign it as well.”

  I did as instructed, and watched as Turner and Bowen signed the form.

  “Thank you,” Turner said. “I’m going to leave now, Courtney. I won’t see you again until this procedure has been completed.”

  I nodded, my fears about lying somewhat tamed, although I still hated the idea of not telling the truth—just not enough to actually tell the truth.

  “I’m going to turn off the light,” Officer Bowen said. “That way the participants will only see their reflection.”

  That idea I liked. A lot. My gaze was locked on the window in front of me as I waited for the parade to begin. Fresh worry made my stomach gurgle painfully and I hoped I wouldn’t need to rush to a bathroom at the wrong moment.

  A man stepped in front of the window. Wearing a white t-shirt, he held a square placard with the number one displayed on it. Though he reminded me of Dylan, he was definitely not Dylan. The man stared straight ahead, and after a moment he turned to my right, then he turned in the opposite direction. After a brief pause, he walked out of my view and another man took his place. The second man also wore a white t-shirt, but his placard had the number two written on it.

  Though I kept my gaze on the man, there was no doubt that he was not the murderer, and I dreaded the moment Dylan would step into view. Two more men came and went. Then it happened. Dylan stood directly in front of me.

  Does he know I’m standing on the other side of the glass?

  His face betrayed no knowledge, but I wondered if he was in contact with Baldy and if he would tell him he’d been brought in for a lineup, which obviously meant I’d come in to view the lineup. A jolt of fear coursed through me at the possibility.

  Dylan turned sideways, startling me, and I nearly flinched. He turned in the other direction, but this time
I was prepared for his movement and I stayed steady. He left, and the last man came into view. I waited for him to go through his positions, then I turned to Officer Bowen, my mind racing.

  “Would you like to see the lineup again?” he asked.

  Oh, heck no. “No, that won’t be necessary.” I’d made my decision, and I didn’t need to go through the charade again.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “I . . . I didn’t recognize any of them.” I felt wretched for outright lying, but when I pictured Baldy’s cold, hard eyes, fear took over and the wretchedness abated.

  “Okay. Thank you.” Officer Bowen flipped on the light, then opened the door that led to the hallway.

  Detective Turner was leaning against the wall, but when the door opened, he straightened and walked into the room. Expecting him to ask me if I’d identified Dylan, I was surprised when all he said was, “I’ll walk you out.”

  He led me back to the elevator and we rode down in silence. When we reached the lobby, he said, “Thank you again for coming, Courtney. I’ll let you know if we need anything else from you.”

  “Okay.” I’d expected it to be much worse, but in the end it had been easy to lie. Too easy.

  I left the police station and headed toward Shelby’s car.

  “How’d it go?” Shelby asked once I’d climbed inside.

  Not in the mood to rehash the specifics, I kept it vague as I picked my pepper spray up from the floor and dropped it into my purse. “Um, okay.”

  “What did you do? Did you, you know, tell them?”

  Heart sinking with my despicable cowardice, I shook my head.

  Shelby nodded, her expression grim. “What did the detective say when you told him you didn’t recognize anyone? Did he seem disappointed? Do you think he believed you?”

  With a sigh, I briefly recounted what had happened.

  Shelby’s eyebrows rose. “You mean he wasn’t even in there?”

  “Nope.”

  “Oh.”

  I nodded. I’d been as surprised as anyone, but I guess it made sense. Officer Bowen didn’t know Dylan was the actual suspect, so he couldn’t sway my opinion. On the other hand, Turner did know, which must have been why he stayed out of the room.

  I imagined Turner’s disappointment when Bowen reported I hadn’t recognized anyone.

  I’m such a coward. I hate that I’m too afraid to tell the truth. Mom will be so disappointed in me when I let her know I didn’t tell Turner anything.

  Sliding down into my seat in misery, I took out my phone to call Mom.

  “Who are you calling?” Shelby asked. “And where are we supposed to go now? I mean, I’m supposed to work tonight.”

  Double crap. “Me too.” I glanced at the phone in my hand. “I was about to call my mom. She’s so worried about me.”

  “Are you going to go to work? I mean, Baldy knows where you work.”

  As if I needed to be reminded about that. The idea of Baldy showing up at work, like right when I was walking out to my car after I’d finished my shift, terrified me. “No. I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to go to work.”

  “Okay, then. Where should we go? Where will we be safe?”

  Good question. And I have no answer. I glanced around. “The police station seems pretty safe, actually.”

  Shelby frowned. “Are you suggesting we camp out in their lobby?”

  As weird as that sounded, it almost seemed like a good idea. Almost. “I guess that wouldn’t work, would it?”

  “No. I don’t think so.”

  I sighed. “What about your old place? Do you think your old roommates would let us crash there tonight? You know, while we get things figured out?”

  “Hmmm. I don’t know. There’s not much space there.” She bit her lip. “But I don’t know where else we can go. Unless we get a hotel room.” She grimaced. “Of course, that would cost money.”

  “Right.”

  “Let’s go to my old place and see what they say.”

  “Maybe you should call first.”

  She shook her head. “It would be harder for them to say no if we’re standing right in front of them.”

  “That’s true.”

  While Shelby drove, I called Steven and told him I wouldn’t be coming in that night.

  Then I called Mom.

  “Oh, honey,” she said after I’d told her that all I’d done was look at a lineup of suspects. “Why didn’t you tell the detective about what happened today?”

  “I didn’t really get a chance to talk to him.” Lame excuse, Courtney.

  “Courtney, you should have made him listen.”

  Getting him to listen wasn’t the issue. Getting me to talk was the issue.

  “I’ll call him,” she said in her I’ve had enough of this voice.

  Alarm shot through me. “No, Mom. No.”

  “Why not? He needs to understand how serious this is.”

  I could not, under any circumstances, let her tell Detective Turner about Baldy and his threats. “Please. Let me take care of it.”

  “Oh shoot.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “They’re paging me.”

  “It’s okay, Mom. I’ve got this.” That’s the laugh of the century.

  “All right, Courtney. Stay safe.”

  If only it were that easy. “I will. I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  I set the phone on my lap with a sigh.

  “What’d she say?” Shelby asked, glancing at me before looking back at the road.

  I repeated Mom’s half of the conversation. “I hope she stays out of it. If she talks to Turner . . .” I shook my head.

  Shelby didn’t reply and I wondered if she half-hoped Mom would talk to Turner. After all, Shelby was potentially in as much danger as I was.

  “I don’t see Emily’s car,” Shelby said when we pulled up to her old apartment. “But there’s Katie’s.”

  After we parked, we walked to the door of her old place and knocked.

  “Hey, Shelby,” Katie, the girl who’d taken over her lease, said. “What’s up?”

  I didn’t know this girl, so I stayed quiet as Shelby spoke.

  “Not much. Just wanted to stop by and say hi. Are you busy?”

  “Actually I was just on my way out,” Katie said.

  “Oh.” Shelby half-frowned.

  “Can we come in?” I blurted, and Katie looked at me like I’d lost my mind.

  “No one’s home,” she said as her eyebrows bunched.

  “Just for a minute.” I glanced behind us, feeling like eyes were everywhere, watching, watching.

  “Uh.” Katie’s gaze slid to Shelby.

  Shelby must have sensed my alarm. “Yeah,” she said. “Just for a minute.”

  “I guess?” Katie said, then stepped back to let us enter. “The bathroom’s over there,” she added, obviously thinking nature had given me urgency.

  I decided to use the excuse and give Shelby a few minutes to convince her to let us stay. “I’ll be right back.” I hurried to the bathroom and shut myself inside, then waited. I could hear Shelby and Katie talking, but couldn’t make out what they were saying.

  A few minutes later I heard footsteps rapidly approaching, then sudden pounding on the bathroom door.

  “Courtney, open up.” Shelby’s voice sounded on the verge of hysteria.

  Is Baldy here? Panic welled up inside me and I hesitated to open the door as if the thin sheet of wood could do anything to stop him.

  “Courtney!”

  The urgency in her tone made me reconsider. Maybe he’s on his way and we need to escape. Now. I pulled the door open to see Shelby standing in front of me, her phone in her hand, and Katie a few feet behind her. Shelby’s face had paled, which made the blood drain from mine. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just got a text from Mitch.”

  “Mitch? Tyler’s friend?” I couldn’t grasp why that would be important.

  She held up her
phone so I could see the text.

  Mitch: Hey, just thought you should know that Tyler’s in the hospital. Some guys jumped him and beat him up pretty bad.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  My gaze jerked to Shelby’s face, and my voice came out in a whisper. “Do you think it was Baldy?”

  Her shoulders lifted in a shrug, but here eyes were wide with terror.

  I pictured Tyler walking along, completely oblivious to any danger, and then Wham! Baldy and his buddies taking him down. Hard. All because of me. “I have to go see him. I have to know he’s okay.”

  “Let me ask Mitch.” Shelby typed in a message, then tapped her thumbnail against the screen of her phone as she waited for a reply. A moment later her phone chimed a message. She read it, then turned her phone around for me to see.

  Shelby: Is he okay?

  Mitch: I don’t know. He’s unconscious right now.

  My eyes widened. “Unconscious?”

  “What’s going on?” Katie asked as she walked up behind Shelby.

  “My . . .” Boyfriend? Is that right? What does it matter! “My friend Tyler is in the hospital.”

  “Oh no. What happened?”

  I glanced at Shelby, then looked at Katie. “Someone beat him up.” Saying the words out loud made it seem more real, more serious. I turned back to Shelby. “Let’s go.”

  She nodded.

  “Thanks for letting me use your bathroom,” I said to Katie, who looked slightly confused about why we’d come all the way to her place just to use the bathroom.

  “I hope your friend’s okay,” she said.

  “Thanks.” Shelby and I walked out the door.

  “I have to go to work,” Shelby said as we climbed into her car.

  With Tyler in the hospital—unconscious—work seemed so very unimportant. “Who cares about work?”

  Shelby’s lips pressed into a straight line as she turned on her engine and began backing out of the parking space.

  An audible sigh fell from my lips. “We can’t worry about work right now. We need to focus on Tyler.”

  “And who beat him up,” Shelby said as she pulled into traffic.