by Renee Miller
They didn’t understand the actions he’d taken when dealing with his ex-wife had nothing to do with anger. No one did, it seemed. It was about her refusal to see his way on things, and her determination to ruin what he’d worked hard to build. It was about showing her the way he expected her to behave. A smile tugged the edges of his lips and he rolled his window down, thinking of the last time he’d stopped by his old house. She learned a thing or two that day. At the time, he’d been frustrated because she didn’t react as she always had—with apologies and pleas for mercy—but he figured she’d realized she had done wrong and he’d finally gotten through her thick skull.
Still, Daniel stayed away, allowing her time to think about things, to want to make amends. That she didn’t call the cops said everything. She loved him, no matter what she said to the contrary. Kristina needed someone strong, someone not afraid to take charge, and that someone was him. Too bad Desiree got herself pregnant; it complicated things a little, but he saw no reason why he couldn’t go back to his wife and take care of Desiree.
The car ahead moved forward more than just a few feet and Daniel let out a sigh of relief. Finally, whoever clogged the damn road had gotten their shit together. Probably some dickhead truck driver who couldn’t stay awake. The line progressed faster until up ahead, about four cars from Daniel, blue lights flashed and two police officers peeked in windows before waving the vehicles through.
“Fucking cops and their drunk driving campaigns. Brilliant,” Daniel grumbled.
What the hell did they think they’d find on a Wednesday evening? The cops seriously needed to find better ways to spend their time. Is this what his tax dollars paid for?
He inched forward. The cop in front glanced at his plates then spoke into the radio on his collar. Why were they calling in plates? Stolen car? Daniel tapped the wheel as the two cops conferred with each other. He pressed the gas lightly and attempted to follow the other cars out of the blockade but the cop closest to him, a fat pig who probably sat around all day eating donuts rather than catching criminals, held up his hand.
“Jesus,” Daniel muttered and stopped.
Fat Cop walked to Daniel’s car and leaned in the window, shining his light over the interior of the truck and then in Daniel’s face.
“Problem?”
“License and registration please,” the cop said.
Daniel reached up to the visor, pulled a little wallet down and handed it over. If he shined the light in his eyes one more time, he might give them a reason to take him in. Fucking jerk.
The cop walked away, Daniel’s license in his hand and motioned for another cop to join him. Daniel slammed a fist on the wheel. This is ridiculous. They had no reason to treat him like this. His license was valid, he didn’t get traffic tickets, and he’d certainly never stolen a car. His truck lit up from behind, blue and red flashed in the rearview and a sickening chill coated his gut. Two more cruisers pulled up behind him.
Kristina. Had she called the cops after all? Why not just go to his house? Of course, he had no known address, the apartment was listed in Desiree’s name and he hadn’t told Kristina where it was. But Carl knew. Why wouldn’t they call his work if something was up? Carl would have given them the address and Desiree would have told them—Daniel paused. Unless…
“Miserable lying bitch,” he cursed. Desiree had turned her phone off. Had they gone to his place after all? What did Kristina tell them?
The fat cop came back and opened Daniel’s door. “Step out of the vehicle please.”
“What’s going on?”
“I said step out of the vehicle please, sir.”
“Okay, I just don’t understand what the problem is.” Daniel climbed out of his seat and stood.
“Hands above your head.”
Bitch. Daniel raised his hands, his gaze roaming over the scene before him. One cop leaned into his truck his flashlight searching the glove compartment, under the seats, and behind the visors. Two more spoke in hushed tones behind them, more than once they bent their heads to murmur into their radios.
The fat cop nudged Daniel to the side of the road and ran his hands down his sides and up his legs. Why were they searching him? “If you could just—”
“Mr. Riley, you have the right to remain silent,” the cop recited his rights.
Daniel’s mind reeled.
She really did it. The fucking slut had called the damn cops on him. When he was through with her, they’d have to call the morgue.
***
Three hours. Long, wasted hours where Daniel sat in the tiny room alone. Now and then, a cop would come in and offer him coffee, water, a smoke, but Daniel refused. They could get him a goddamn lawyer, that’s what he wanted. They arrested him for murder, possession of something or other and drug trafficking. He’d told them how ridiculous all of it was and demanded to know where they’d gotten their information but they weren’t forthcoming. If he agreed to an interview then they’d explain, but he’d asked for a lawyer. Until he talked, apparently they weren’t offering him anything except beverages and cancer.
He’d called Carl after they booked him, but he was a blubbering mess. Something about Amy, Daniel stopped listening after Carl said he couldn’t help him. After all he’d done for that man, when Daniel needed help the asshole didn’t come through. Cheap bastard.
The steel door opened. Daniel looked up, his position relaxed, lounging in the uncomfortable chair. The table, a cheap Formica topped nightmare, filled most of the room. Shit, it couldn’t really be called a room. They probably cleared out a broom closet or something.
“Mr. Riley?” a small man in blue suit asked.
Daniel nodded and prayed this was not his lawyer.
“I’m Timothy Chambers. I’ll be your Duty Council for now. If you wish to retain your own attorney you may, but I’m under the impression you don’t wish to proceed without representation and have not been able to secure your own.”
“I can get my own lawyer. These pricks won’t let me call anyone.”
Timothy nodded, his curly black mop bouncing as he did so. He looked intelligent, and if Daniel didn’t have to pay a lawyer for this bullshit it would be better. The small man opened his briefcase and pulled out a yellow legal pad and a pen. Also in the case was a file, which he opened and glanced through while biting his lower lip.
Daniel gritted his teeth and looked away. If he could stop that nasty habit then maybe he’d consider giving him some work. “So, what if I accept you as my lawyer? Do I have to pay you?”
“I work for the Crown, sort of. I provide free council to those who can’t afford it otherwise. In cases like yours, I am sort of an emergency contact, here for you until you retain your own council. The government pays me in most cases. We’d straighten out the money issue before this goes to trial anyway.”
“Okay, fine. Let’s see what you can do.”
“Good, shall we begin?” Timothy clicked his pen and sat down.
“First, I didn’t do any of what they say I did. I know everyone says that, but I’m telling the truth. I don’t even know where they got the idea I could kill someone.”
“Possibly from the assault charges filed against you by your wife?” Timothy didn’t look up as he spoke. Instead, he continued to read the documents in the file.
“Those were lies. She exaggerates.”
“Hmm, there are pictures.”
“Fuck off, I don’t need you.” Daniel crossed his arms and glared at Timothy, wondering how the idiot thought accusing him of this shit helped at all.
“I’m not against you, Mr. Riley but you have to be honest with me. If this goes to trial, and judging by the evidence it just might, I need to know what the Crown Attorney is going to pull out in order to build his case against you so I can defend you accordingly.”
Timothy met his gaze, his face serious and calm, as though he were talking about the weather or something. The fluorescent light hanging over the table did nothing for his pasty complexion
. His skin looked downright green. Daniel looked to the door. Two officers stood outside, probably listening to every word.
“Okay, we had some problems but we’re working them out. I love Kristina very much.”
“Indeed? Well, that’s not for me to judge. The evidence they have was given to them by a friend of yours, an Amy Bowen. She claimed your ex-wife hid it for Wade Bowen, her husband. When questioned about it, your ex-wife claimed it belongs to you. It’s a sordid mess, but your wife also led the police to believe you and Mrs. Bowen had an affair.”
“What evidence?” Daniel couldn’t imagine what she could have given them to justify these charges. Murder? Did she kill someone just to fuck him over? He snorted. The idea that Kristina could hurt anything was too much. She could barely wipe her own ass, let alone construct such a complicated plot to trap him. But Amy and Wade…
“Apparently there is a box containing evidence linking you to two murders, possibly more if they dig, and two illegal weapons. I have a list here.” Timothy passed a paper to Daniel and waited.
Daniel read the list, his chest tightening as his eyes ran down the items. A finger? A fucking finger? Jesus Christ, where would Kristina get a finger? What the hell was happening?
“That’s not my shit, none of it. I swear to God, it isn’t mine. Amy gave it to them? Fuck, I haven’t had anything to do with that slut in a while. Once, just once, I slept with her and that was enough. I don’t know where either of them got this stuff but it is definitely not mine.” His voice rose, and he knew he sounded hysterical. Hell he was hysterical.
Timothy nodded and took the page back, replacing it in his file. “So, here’s what we do now. You need an alibi, at least three, the week of August 19, 2003, the week of December 12, 2005, and the last week of July this year. If you can give them this, then they will have little to discuss with you.”
“I didn’t do anything, so I hardly established alibis. Fuck, three whole weeks? Isn’t it supposed to be a night or something? Can’t they narrow it down a little?”
“Think on it for a bit. We can come back to it later.”
“You’re obviously misunderstanding me. How am I supposed to remember where I was for three fucking weeks? Two of them were more than five fucking years ago, for crying out loud. Who can remember what they did that long ago?” Daniel raked the fingers of one hand through his hair. Fuck, he could use Desiree, maybe. If they’d let him call her then he might be able to get something worked out. But he hadn’t known Desiree for the first two dates. Shit.
Timothy cleared his throat and continued. “The police will question you. I advise you to answer the questions they ask, and only that. Don’t elaborate, don’t ramble, and above all remain calm. You tell them the truth and we’ll work out the rest later. Answer the questions, and if they don’t believe you that’s fine. You don’t have to convince them, you have to convince a jury.”
“A jury? If I convince them then there won’t be a jury.”
“Mr. Riley, let’s get one thing clear right now, so you don’t feel I’ve let you down in any way. It is likely this will go to court. They have enough evidence to make it happen no matter what you say right now.”
“I don’t have much choice, do I? Fine, I’ll answer their questions and I’ll tell the truth because the truth is this is bullshit. I didn’t kill anyone, I don’t have any drugs, and I definitely don’t own a weapon.”
“Good, I’ll let them know we’re ready to proceed.”
“Wait—why didn’t they just come to my house or my work? Why the fancy roadblock?”
Timothy cleared his throat. “Apparently your wife… er, your current one, thought you might resort to violence and they didn’t want to have a hostage situation.”
Daniel felt sick. Desiree fucked him too?
Timothy walked to the door and waved. The cops opened it and filed in.
Thus began the nightmare, at the hands of the one person he would never have imagined would have the balls to do it.
CHAPTER 31
She stood on the edge of the cliff, watching the waves crash against the rocks below; caught on the wind white foam sprayed and misted her face. Kristina breathed in the scent of the ocean, tasted the salty air and smiled. The sky was a brilliant blue. In the distance a bird soared, turning in her direction. The gull neared and opened its beak, but it didn’t make the cawing sound she expected, instead a shrill ring erupted from its throat.
Frowning, Kristina stepped forward and lost her footing, the grassy edge of the cliff crumbled away. Suddenly she was weightless, freefalling to the rocks below, the shrill ringing of the gull echoing in her ears.
The blue sky vanished and Kristina smelled potpourri, like the stuff she used to clean the carpets. The gull still rang… she paused and listened before sitting up and gazing around her. She had been dreaming. The gull hadn’t been ringing. Her phone had, and still was.
She groaned and stood. Obviously, her drop had been off the couch where she’d fallen asleep last night and onto the floor. Rubbing her eyes she walked across the room to pick up the screaming phone, amazed Cadence hadn’t woke as well.
“Hello,” her voice sounded groggy even to her ears.
“Kris, you’re still in bed. I’m so sorry,” her mother sounded excited.
“It’s okay. What time is it?”
“Just a bit after eight, I thought Cadence would have had you up long before now.”
“She woke up for a while around midnight. She must have worn herself out.”
“Well, at least you had more than just a couple of hours of rest. You need it.”
“Yeah,” Kristina stretched as she waited for her mother to share whatever it was that had her so riled up. She didn’t often get worked up.
“I’ve got some bad news, and I didn’t want you to go out and hear it somewhere else.”
Kristina’s breath caught, her throat suddenly dried and she waited. Something happened to Wade. Please don’t let it be Wade.
“Amy had an accident last night.” Her mother paused and Kristina nearly cried in relief. “She didn’t make it, the car burned up and they couldn’t even identify her without dental records.”
“Oh no,” Kristina breathed. She hadn’t imagined Amy would ever die, just disappear. Although shocked, part of her rejoiced. Finally she could be with Wade, guilt free.
“I think after Wade got arrested those friends of his were on her. They aren’t a nice bunch, you know, and she must have been trying to run, disappear so they couldn’t get her.”
“Why would they want to hurt her?” Kristina hated lying to her mother, even this little pretense felt wrong.
“Your dad said they think she’s the one who sent Wade to jail, she went to the cops with some information or evidence. I mean, how else did she manage to stay out of jail too?”
Closing her eyes Kristina listened to her mother ramble on about the gossip. Her knees felt like rubber. She stumbled to the couch. Wade was okay, still in jail but okay. The one person who could have pointed the finger at both of them, ruining her story about Daniel, died in that car. How lucky was that? No, luck had nothing to do with it. A shiver shook her body and she paused, staring at the stained coffee table, her gaze traveling over the scars and coffee rings that littered the top. Kristina recalled the day she sat in the same spot—the box on the same table—and learned things about Wade she never imagined. Had Wade’s friends caused the crash? Of course they had.
She blinked when her mother’s voice continued, “there wasn’t even a problem with the car. She was going too fast, must have looked away for a minute and slammed into the tree. They said she might have lived if it hadn’t caught fire.”
“How could they know that?”
“Someone told your dad they heard there was smoke in her lungs. She died from smoke inhalation, not the crash. Terrible.”
“Hey, I gotta go, Mom. Can I call you later?” Kristina could barely speak.
“Sure honey, Dad and I are going to
Salach to do some shopping later. You’ll be okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine. It is really sad, but I wasn’t ever very close to Amy. I’m shaken up, I mean to know it happened here, in Laighton, but I’ll be okay.”
“No, I can’t believe it either. Hopefully it was all just an accident like the police said. You get some rest and we’ll talk later.”
Kristina set the phone down and put her face in her trembling hands. She should feel guilty or horrified; something other than excited. But she wasn’t. She was thrilled about the future, about Wade and about eliminating something standing in the way of all of that. Even if Wade had orchestrated Amy’s accident, she didn’t care. Amy got what she deserved. A woman should never plot against her husband, not when he is as kind and sweet as Wade. He could have gotten rid of her long ago but a sense of loyalty and his innate goodness wouldn’t let him do it. She’d drawn first blood by going to the cops. He drew last.
Cadence cried. Kristina pulled herself together, shaking away her unsettling thoughts. She had only one more obstacle. Daniel.
***
The ringing of the phone startled Kristina, loosening her fingers and causing her to drop the pan she’d been carrying to the sink. She growled, glaring at the greasy mess on the kitchen floor. Never in her life had the damn thing rung so often as it had since she left Daniel. That would have been fine, if the calls didn’t usually herald bad news.
Cadence played in the living room, seated in her bouncy chair while Barney sang his stupid love song. He sounded just a little maniacal, as though the purple beast knew he drove parents bonkers with his annoying and flamboyant personality.
She rushed to the living room. “Hello?”