Brinley slid another slice onto her plate. “What about Linda’s boyfriends? Gail said that her sister was always leading men on. I can see where that would piss someone off.”
“Enough to kill?” Jason rubbed his chin. “I’m not sure about that. Besides, there’s nothing in the police file about any boyfriend and they talked to all the couple’s friends. Surely a girlfriend would have said something.”
Logan grinned and popped open a soda can. “I’m with Jason on this one. But then I’ve seen what Jared emailed over earlier today.”
“You better have the evidence to back up that look,” Jason warned, shaking a slice at Logan. “What did he send over?”
Logan reached behind him and dropped a file in the middle of the table. “Fascinating reading. Take a look at the photos of wife number one and two. They could be twins.”
Jason flipped open the folder and placed it between himself and Brinley. He wiped his hands on a napkin before piecing through the file. Near the top was a family photo of Wendell, his first wife, and their young son Damian who at the time was probably eight or nine years old. The smiles on their faces looked genuine but Jason knew from his law enforcement days that it could all be an elaborate facade. Underneath could have been rotten to the core.
Brinley pointed to the son. “Poor little guy. I bet the kids were really mean to him. I see that every day at school.”
Wendell’s son appeared to be the stereotypical geek. Thin and small, the blond haired tyke wore thick black-framed glasses along with a plaid vest and a bow tie. If any of his friends saw him in that outfit there was no way the little boy wasn’t going to be teased about it. Add in the fact Damian looked scrawny and small for his age and Jason felt for the kid. He’d probably had a terrible time with bullies.
“Did Jared have any luck finding Damian? I texted him the phone number that Barnes gave me.” Jason paged through the file to see if there were any later photos of the family but came up empty. “I would very much like to talk to the son.”
Logan shook his head. “He got the secretary so he left a message. Then he hunted down the house phone number and left a message there. Hopefully this Damian Barnes will call back tonight or tomorrow.”
“Here’s the pictures side by side.” Brinley set the photo of Linda next to the family photo. “They do look creepily alike.”
“It’s not uncommon for a man to have a type.” Logan tapped on the picture. “Some men only like blondes. Some only like redheads. I’m not sure you can call a man guilty because he keeps marrying women who look like each other. Now the house thing, that is strange. I don’t know any man who ever gave a shit how his home was decorated. When Ava moved in she put up valances. Hell, I didn’t even know what they were. They look nice and all but I could have gone my entire life never having them. Most men feel the same.”
Brinley’s gaze flickered to Jason’s back window and smirked. He had blinds on every window but the only drapes were in the bedroom where he wanted it dark in case he needed to sleep during the day.
“That’s not the most interesting thing though.” Logan shuffled the papers and pulled out one. “The financial stuff is what got to me. Wendell Barnes raked in some big bucks when Linda died. He had her insured for two hundred thousand.”
For the first time that day Jason felt like there was light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. “Finally a goddamn motive that makes sense. How did the police not know this? This wasn’t in the case file.”
“I can answer that.” West stood in the doorway, looking tired and pissed off. “I just went three rounds with the mayor. I asked him about that day that he argued with Barnes. Turns out Barnes had lost a bet to Cavendish and didn’t want to pay up.”
“That doesn’t answer why it wasn’t in the police file.” Brinley stood and retrieved another plate from the cabinet along with a can of soda from the refrigerator. “Have a seat. There’s plenty of pizza and breadsticks.”
“And I can answer that.” Jason scooted his chair over to make room for West. “Canvendish and Barnes were pretty big deals in this town and had a lot of friends. They could make sure nothing appeared in the official file.”
“Small town hide and seek.” Logan smiled but it was more grim than happy. “I know it well. You should have seen the mess I inherited when I became sheriff.”
“That’s Cavendish’s legacy.” West slapped down the can so hard soda flew from the top and landed on his hand and the table. “Corruption and back room deals. We need someone to come in and clean up this town.”
West reached behind and grabbed a towel from the kitchen counter to mop up the mess he’d made. Jason was grinning from ear to ear and Brinley didn’t have a clue as to why he was so darn happy. This entire case was a mess.
“You’re grinning like the village idiot, brother. What’s so wonderful?” West tossed the towel back on the counter before digging back in to his dinner.
“You.” Jason pointed a finger at his brother with a laugh. “You talk like there’s some magical being that’s going to rush in and sweep away all the crap that’s been building up here in Tremont for the last twenty years. You’re deliberately overlooking the obvious.”
“It’s not obvious to me but then I just moved here. What are you talking about?” Brinley’s gaze went to Jason then West, then Jason again trying to figure out what was going on between these two brothers. Even Logan was wearing a scowl and he was usually smiling.
“Aww, hell,” West muttered. “No way. I know what you’re thinking and it’s not going to happen. I have a job.”
“So? Cavendish did as well before becoming mayor. You should run. You’d do a good job.”
Brinley’s eyes went wide. “West run for Mayor? He’d get my vote.”
“See? You already have a vote.” Jason balled up his napkin and tossed it at his morose brother.
“What? You won’t vote for me? If you do and Brinley does and I do, hell, that’s three votes. At least I wouldn’t be completely shut out.”
West wasn’t taking this seriously but Jason was warming to the idea.
“I’m sure Mom and Dad will vote for you. Maybe our sister too. That’s six.” Jason jumped to his feet, his mind going a mile a minute. “Dad’s got a lot of friends that can help you. Donate to the campaign and all that. Let’s face it. No one really likes Leon. He only won last time because the other guy was even sleazier. Give the people an honest choice and you’ll win by a landslide.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” barked West. “If you think it’s such a great idea you do it.”
“I’m busy getting my business off the ground. You should think about this,” Jason urged. “You complain about Cavendish nonstop and everyone else does too. If you don’t like him, do something about it.”
West looked like he wanted to punch Jason but to his credit all he did was groan and slump in his chair. “I hate it when you’re right. Leon has to go but there has to be another way.”
“If you can think of another way, I’m all for it. But I think we both know that unseating him is what needs to happen.”
West picked up the pizza slice. “No more talking about running for mayor. We have a murder to solve. No, make that two murders. Tell me everything about your day. I’m hoping we’re getting close.”
“Something is going to give and soon,” Jason promised. “The insurance money is a huge clue. Wendell Barnes is starting to look good for it.”
But even if Barnes killed Linda, did that mean he automatically killed Gaines and shot Anita Hazlitt? Jason believed the two cases were entwined but he had to prove it. And that wasn’t going to be easy.
Chapter Twenty-Two
‡
Brinley roused from a deep sleep, rubbing her eyes and groaning at the luminous numbers on the clock. Two in the damn morning.
Yawning widely, she levered up on her elbows and listened for a long moment, trying to figure out what had woken her at this ungodly hour of the night. A low moan pierce
d the silence and one look a Jason told her he was in the midst of a nasty nightmare.
At some point he’d kicked the covers off, although he’d twisted the top sheet around his legs and appeared to be trying desperately to free them. His arm flailed and missed her head by inches as he gasped, barely intelligible words falling from his lips.
She could make out “no” but that was about it.
“Jason.” Brinley tentatively touched his shoulder, his skin damp with sweat. “Jason, wake up.”
He frowned and shook his head, another moan that sounded like it was dragged from somewhere deep inside of him.
“Jason,” she said, louder and more firmly this time. “It’s Brinley. Everything is fine. Wake up for me. Everything is okay. You’re okay.”
His lids fluttered and then he sat straight up, his arms shooting out and knocking her to the mattress while he dragged air into his lungs. His gaze darted around the room as if to assess his whereabouts before he groaned and buried his face in his hands, his body trembling.
Whatever terrible nightmare he’d been having was probably the reason he didn’t sleep well or all that much. She reached out once more and placed her arm around his shoulders, cuddling close until he stopped shaking and finally looked up and into her eyes.
“Jesus, I never wanted you to see that.”
His voice sounded hoarse and she wanted to get him a drink of water but she couldn’t leave him in this state. Rubbing her hands up and down his arms in a soothing motion, she pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder.
“You were dreaming.”
Jason shook his head and sighed. “Honey, that’s the last thing it was. There was nothing remotely pleasant. I was having a nightmare. The one tonight is apparently my subconscious’s favorite. I get it at least once every couple of weeks.”
Her fingers ran down his back, feeling the ridged scars of his ordeal. She’d felt them the first night they’d been together but hadn’t known what to say. Or if she should say anything at all. She couldn’t even begin to understand what he’d been through but she was here…and she heal him in any way she could.
“Tell me about it,” she offered softly, wanting dearly to take away this man’s pain but not having a clue as to how. “It might help.”
He gave her a lopsided smile. “Sure. It might help give you nightmares. It’s so ugly, honey. I don’t want this to touch you in any way.”
Men were so silly sometimes, always trying to protect the frail woman from things they didn’t need to be shielded from in the first place.
“It already has.” She set her chin on his shoulder and pulled him closer. “Please tell me. I want to help you.”
Jason didn’t say anything and the silence stretched on as they sat on the bed huddled together. Finally he sat back, propped against the headboard so she could lay her head on his chest. His heart galloped underneath her ear, telling her in no uncertain terms that whatever haunted him at night was truly evil.
“They tortured me.”
His voice was a mere whisper in the darkness. She stayed perfectly still and quiet, letting him gather his thoughts and emotions. It humbled her beyond words that he would bare his soul to her this way, and if it was possible it made her fall for him all the harder that he could allow himself to be this vulnerable in her company.
“They used whips and white-hot irons. Sometimes electricity. There was pain every day. In a way you get used to it so they have to ramp it up each time until you’re closer and closer to death at the end of each session. I’d sometimes pray for death to take me. Then afterward I’d feel guilty that I’d been so weak.”
Brinley’s fingers tightened on Jason’s bicep but she steeled herself not to react to the horror unfolding with each passing moment. Pressing her lips together, she suppressed the words that wouldn’t make any difference and only minimize what he’d been through. There was nothing she could say to wipe away the terror like tears on a three-year old’s face. No platitudes that would make this go away, shelving neatly somewhere in a closet called “the past.”
“The first few times you’re so proud of yourself for not screaming like the others, but then after several days your defenses are broken down one by one and you realize the screaming in your ears is your own. You know in that moment that you’re not as strong as you think you are. That nothing you’ve been trained for is going to save your ass. That’s when reality hits you and you face the fact that you’re going to die there and then be thrown out like a piece of garbage. There was no sanctity to life. People died for something as minor as being friends with the wrong person. No one gave a shit about anything but money and power.”
Wiping a silent tear from her face, she listened to his pain filled voice and tried to hold him more closely as if she could shield him from something. Maybe herself. She had torn at this scab and it hit her she might have only made things worse. Much worse.
She couldn’t bear the thought she might have hurt this man she cared so deeply for.
Was it love? She didn’t know, although he was more than deserving of the emotion. Anyone who had survived what he had and could still care about others was worthy of all the love and devotion she could give.
“You don’t have to–” she began but he pressed his fingers to her lips.
“You were right. Holding it in hasn’t helped. Maybe talking about it will. You need to know just how fucked up I am. I don’t know if I’ll ever get any better. I may be this fucking broken for the rest of my life. You sure as hell deserve better.”
“You’re not broken,” she protested but he simply shook his head, his gaze far away somewhere. He was back there and she damned her stupidity for asking him to relive this. She’d been arrogant and smug thinking she knew what to do to help him. She didn’t know anything and now she could only hold him to keep the nightmares at bay. She wished she could take the pain away that she knew dogged him every night but she didn’t have a clue as to how.
“One day the guard came to my cell and took me outside, which they hadn’t done before. I thought maybe it was my chance to escape. Maybe they were transferring me to another prison. But that’s not what that day was about.”
A chill ran down her spine, tension building at his ominous statement. What he was about to tell her was what he’d been reliving tonight while he slept. She knew it without him having to say it out loud.
“They tied my hands behind me and pushed my back up against a wall. There were several men with guns about ten feet away and they were all smiling and laughing. One yelled at me asking what my last request was. It was then I realized they were going to execute me. A firing squad. It’s funny after praying for death to take me I suddenly didn’t want to die. I wanted to live very much and see my family and friends again. I wanted to eat pizza and drink a beer. I wanted to feel the joy of sex and the warmth of laughter. I hadn’t really lived at all. I had just worked all that time and I had so many goddamn regrets at that moment.”
Her throat was swollen shut with emotion, and instead of speaking she planted light kisses on his chest along with a few tears.
“No crying, honey.” He lifted her chin so she was looking into his green eyes that were now a stormy gray. “I’m here and selfishly telling you this story. Laying all my baggage at your feet.”
“I asked you to,” she croaked, barely getting the words out. “It’s not selfish.”
“It’s not smart,” he countered. “Now you’re going to feel sorry for me. It might sound stupid but a man wants a woman to look up to him. Admire him. He wants her to believe she can depend on him. You probably think I’m a wreck and I guess I am.”
Brinley sat straight up and cupped his face in her hands. “I do admire you. And I know I can depend on you. You’ve protected me, Jason. I’ve never felt as safe in my life as I do with you.”
He snatched her into his arms, and she reveled in the power he held so carefully in check. He was a man who could kill or maim but he chose to be gentle.
&nb
sp; Jason sighed and loosened his grip, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “They put a blindfold on me and made me stand there. I heard them getting ready to shoot and then the sound of guns firing. I fell to my knees. I’d thought I’d died but it was a mock execution. They jerked the blindfold off of me and they were all laughing. They’d shot in another direction. But the guard that took me back to my cell said the next day it would be real. Or maybe not. That I would never know when the real thing was going to happen.”
“How many times?” she asked, stroking his face, his cheek stubbly under her palm. “The cruelty of that is unthinkable. Did they do this to everyone?”
“Yes, it was how they amused themselves. They did it three more times but I think the next one was going to be real, because Selena came to me the next day and gave me the information that allowed me to escape.”
Someday Brinley wanted to thank that woman who had risked her own life for a man she barely knew.
“Weren’t you afraid you’d get caught?”
“I was more afraid of staying. I was definitely going to die there if I didn’t try. At least if I was shot dead trying to escape it would be quick.”
She couldn’t wrap her mind around preferring a quick death to something far more painful. Jason had been through so much and yet he was still strong, facing life head on.
“I don’t know what to say after hearing that,” she admitted. “I knew it was something awful and it was. I guess I would say that you must be an incredibly strong person to have survived that and come out the other side. I don’t think I could have.”
“The instinct to survive is overwhelming. Don’t underestimate what you might be capable of if you’re put into a dangerous situation. I’m not that special.”
“I think you’re special,” she said deeply, brushing his lips with her own as her heart squeezed painfully. The emotions he aroused were stronger than anything she’d known before. “The most special man I’ve ever known in my life.”
His arms tightened around her. “I think you’re pretty damn special too. After reliving near death I want to feel alive. With you. The way I feel with you is exactly what I dreamed about in that prison. I want to make love with you, Brinley.”
Damsel in Danger (Danger Incorporated Book 1) Page 15