No One Knows

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No One Knows Page 18

by J. T. Ellison


  Meghan leaned forward. “Your Josh? Running drugs? That’s ridiculous.”

  Aubrey swallowed. “I don’t know if it is, Meghan. I’m going to ask Chase for help. He’s a reporter. Maybe he can do some digging or something.” She sat back and watched the emotions course over her best friend’s face. At least Meghan didn’t laugh.

  Meghan got up and poured them fresh coffees, then turned back to Aubrey.

  “This is insane, you know that.”

  “I do,” Aubrey replied. “You didn’t know him, Meghan. He was born to save people. He saved me. And all he wanted to do was help others. He wasn’t a criminal, didn’t have that kind of mind-set. If he got himself into something and got in over his head, and they killed him for it, and people are starting to talk about it . . . I have to know. I have to find out what really happened.”

  “No one’s perfect, sugar. Especially saviors.”

  Aubrey sighed. “I know. But he was pretty damn close.”

  “What do you think Chase will say about all of this?”

  “No idea. He’s been very interested in the story, as you can imagine. He may walk, he may want to help. I won’t know unless I ask.”

  Meghan straightened the napkins on the bar. She shook her head while she thought, the small diamond in her left ear cartilage winking, like a star moving in and out of the clouds. Aubrey sat silently, waiting. Either Meghan would believe her and want to help, or she’d laugh her out of the store, and Aubrey would be forced to try elsewhere.

  “Do you honestly think Josh could have been involved in an illegal drug ring?”

  “Someone killed him, Meghan. At this point, anything is possible.”

  “But don’t you think the police would have followed that trail back then? Do you remember them saying anything about Josh being involved in something?”

  “They weren’t exactly talking to me, and it didn’t come up in the trial. But Josh was acting strange before he disappeared. I thought it was the stress from school, and his extra job at the ME’s office. He wasn’t getting a lot of sleep. Burning the candle.”

  “The ME’s office?”

  “Yeah. We needed extra money. He had changed his mind about his specialty. It was going to add time to his schooling, so he took the job at the morgue to supplement our income.”

  Meghan looked at her strangely. “You realize no one has ever mentioned he worked at the medical examiner’s office.”

  Aubrey stilled. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean in every article I’ve ever read about Josh, none ever mentioned he had a second job. Did you tell the police this?”

  “Of course. Why were you reading about Josh?”

  Meghan laughed shortly. “Aubrey, you’re my best friend. Of course I read about your husband’s case. Knowing stuff about him helped me help you. When you were having bad times.”

  “Let’s not go there.”

  “Agreed. Though you start digging into this, you could end up right back in the hospital. You know that, right?”

  Aubrey looked into the depths of her coffee. “I am a lot stronger now than I was.”

  “All right. So maybe he lied to you about working at the ME’s office. Let me ask you this. Did you ever find anything odd, something that you didn’t know Josh had? Keys, notebooks, parking stubs? Drugs? Anything that might be suspicious?”

  “Meghan, no. Not that I know of. I was grieving, though, and they put me through hell, interrogating me, harassing me. I wasn’t exactly looking for lost keys or parking stubs, and the drugs I was taking were my own. Then we packed everything up and Daisy took it. I don’t even have it anymore.”

  They both drifted into silence. Meghan pulled out her laptop from under the counter, was clicking the keys. Aubrey didn’t know what she was looking up; she just kept shaking her head, muttering “This is crazy” under her breath over and over. Aubrey understood that sentiment. She felt the same way.

  “Whoa. Look at this.”

  “What is it?”

  “Derek Allen. If this is the same guy, Aubrey . . . he was held for questioning in the murder of a drug kingpin out of Mexico.” She tapped away, then pulled up the Davidson County Criminal Court website. “I can plug in his name and see his arrest record.”

  “Are there pictures?”

  “Not in this database, no. And a Google search isn’t picking anything up.”

  “What about DC Investigations? That was on the card he gave me.”

  Meghan’s brows furrowed. “Nothing. Aubrey, I think you need to go to the police, and tell them he came to see you.”

  “You’re kidding, right? Me, go to the police?”

  “This Derek Allen guy is trouble.” She flipped the computer around. “Look at his sheet. His most previous arrest was for aggravated murder. He was sentenced, he’s been in jail. He’s no one to be playing with.”

  “No police. No way.” Aubrey thought back to the conversation she had with Tyler. “This has to be the guy Tyler was talking about who was being released. But why would he come to me and say these things about Josh?”

  Meghan finally closed the browser and looked at Aubrey speculatively.

  “Sometimes you can be so charmingly naive.”

  “I am not. And Josh is dead.”

  Meghan sipped her coffee. “Listen. I’ve never told you this, but years ago, I used to be married to a private investigator. If you won’t go to the cops, I could ask him to look into this for you.”

  Aubrey felt her pulse begin to race. “You were married to a PI?”

  Meghan shrugged. “He was always off on stakeouts trying to catch men in awkward positions so their wives could divorce them and get a bundle of cash. It was unseemly, really.”

  “Still. I’m your best friend. I can’t believe you never told me.”

  Meghan sighed. “It was a lifetime ago, sugar, and it didn’t end well. Besides, sharing, it’s not my way. Once something is done, it’s over, and there’s no sense looking back over your shoulder and wishing things could be different. That way lies madness.”

  As soon as the words were out, Meghan winced.

  Aubrey looked at the floor. “Ouch.”

  “Sorry. My bad. Let’s get back to the matter at hand. Daniel and I are friends of a sort, now that we have some distance. And I have to admit, you’ve got me intrigued. Though I’m shocked that none of this came up during the initial investigation.”

  “Why would it?” Aubrey asked. “Why would anyone tie an upstanding young doctor-to-be who went missing from his friend’s bachelor party to a drug dealer?”

  “If the investigators were worth their salt, they would have looked at every angle.”

  “But it’s such an obtuse angle, Meghan. They were looking at me. Maybe they missed it.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  Aubrey narrowed her eyes. “You don’t know that they did.”

  “We’ll have to find out. We have to go at this from two ends.” Meghan stood and started straightening the counter. “It’s just crazy enough to make sense, though. That Josh was involved in a drug ring, got himself hurt, but got away, and now that he’s been declared dead, he’s back from the grave, looking for the insurance money.”

  Aubrey felt the familiar sense of unease at the idea of the insurance payout. “Wow, Meghan. You should write novels. Josh is dead. We all know that. He can’t come back from the grave for the money.”

  “When does the settlement go through?”

  “Friday.”

  Meghan shrugged. “It’s a jumping-off point. And you’re still planning to tell Chase what you’ve found out?”

  “Yes. I think he might be able to help.”

  Meghan fiddled with her cup. “I don’t know if you should.”

  “Why not?”

  “Isn’t that obvious, Aubrey?”
r />   “No. It isn’t.”

  “Look at this clearly, Aubrey. You have an emotional stake in the outcome. And that’s going to cloud your judgment. It looks to me like someone’s messing with you. You can’t be sure it’s not Chase. He could be behind all of this.”

  “Meghan, that’s ridiculous. Chase is not involved in this.”

  Meghan just nodded, curt, and Aubrey had to bite back a nasty retort. She didn’t believe that; she couldn’t. Chase was a good guy caught up in a strange situation. Instead, she said, “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help.”

  Meghan smiled. “I can’t promise anything. But now you have me intrigued.” They heard clapping from the back of the store. “I can break this down. Go home, get some sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow after I’ve had a chance to talk to Daniel.”

  CHAPTER 35

  Aubrey left Frothy Joe’s feeling oddly optimistic. She was on the path to finding real answers about what happened to Josh.

  She couldn’t believe Meghan had held out on her like this. She’d been married to a PI? Why hadn’t she offered his help with Josh before?

  Because Josh was dead. And her responsibility as your friend was to help keep you sane and functioning.

  And Meghan had done just that. For five years she’d been by Aubrey’s side, wiping away tears, fixing meals, taking away the empty bottles, reminding her to take her medicine.

  Five years of friendship, of laughter, of sorrow. Aubrey hadn’t ever had a friend like Meghan before. No, that wasn’t true. She’d had Josh.

  She was home in five minutes. The gaping hole in the brick made the already shabby house look horrible. She’d have to call the insurance company again tomorrow and see when they could get someone out to assess the damage. Shaking her head, she went inside. Winston was overjoyed to see her, licked her on the face, then went to his lead. He wanted to run. And so did she.

  As she laced up her shoes, she thought of Daisy, of her blank stare, the pain crossing her eyes when Aubrey reminded her Josh was dead. Of her certainty that Chase was Josh. It was disconcerting, and made this whole situation that much weirder. She was missing something, something big.

  She left the house with Winston, let him guide her. He went up the hill, toward 25th, legs stretching, and she knew he was headed toward the park. Tonight it didn’t seem like such a horrible place to go. They raced up the hill, then settled in for a nice comfortable run. They circled Dragon Park, not stopping at the tree. She thought about Chase as she ran, and was back home in an hour.

  Aubrey was hungry. That was something new. She wasn’t used to these feelings: hunger, desire, contentment. She just knew she was about to have answers, and even if they hurt, even if they cut to the bone, there was a path to the light.

  She fed Winston and was putting the finishing touches on a bowl of spaghetti when the doorbell rang. Winston scrambled to the door, nails clicking on the floor, and barked, three times, in quick succession.

  She set the bowl on the counter and went to the door. Glanced out the peephole. Tyler.

  Finally. She pulled the door open.

  “I’ve been trying to reach you. Where have you been?”

  When he didn’t answer right away, she registered the truth. Tyler’s skin had a grayish tinge to it, one Aubrey recognized. How quickly he had fallen. He’d used again and was trying to kick the heroin. He was in withdrawal.

  “Hey, sis.” He was shaking from head to toe.

  “Oh, Tyler,” she said. Her heart really did hurt for him. What he went through trying to get and stay clean she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy. It was hell. He got so very sick.

  “Come in. What do you need?”

  “It’s that obvious?”

  “You forget, we’ve done this before.”

  He tried for a smile, but only managed a grimace. He stepped into the house, and she shut the door behind him.

  “Couch or bed?” she asked.

  “Couch.”

  She got him settled in the living room. “What happened?

  “Got waylaid by a friend, looking for info on Derek Allen. I’m sorry.”

  “Why didn’t you go to the clinic?”

  “Did.”

  “So you have the methadone? Why haven’t you taken it?”

  “Did,” he said again. “Isn’t working. Not like it should.”

  He started to shiver. She covered him with an afghan, got him a glass of water and the tall plastic wastepaper basket lined with a trash bag. He was in for a rough night.

  “Were you able to find anything—”

  But Tyler was gone, passed out cold.

  Aubrey supposed this was penance. She vacillated between love and hate for Tyler. The hate all stemmed from the fact that he knew her, knew what her life had been, what she’d been through, in ways Josh never had. She’d never told Josh what happened. She’d never spoken of it to anyone.

  But Tyler knew. Tyler knew she’d been sullied. It was like everything that had happened to her was a result of her past. If she’d kept the door closed that night, she would have led a completely different life, with a completely different outcome. Most importantly, Josh might still be alive.

  If only.

  She got Tyler some water and retrieved her spaghetti. She ate in the kitchen, not wanting to sicken him with the smell if he woke up. The food was so good. She ate like she hadn’t eaten in years, with gusto. She even had seconds. Then she cleaned the kitchen and tiptoed into the living room. Tyler was still asleep but restless, a fine sheen of sweat covering his face.

  She took her laptop and went to her bedroom. Tyler would wake soon enough, needing food or water or the bucket emptied. She’d take advantage of the lull to send a note to Chase. Just a quick Hey, how are you? I’m home. Call me.

  Meghan didn’t want her to mention anything about Josh, not just yet. Aubrey felt like she was going to go mad, waiting. After five years, she finally had a spark of hope, and she didn’t want to wait any longer. If she hadn’t known all the parts of him, there was such possibility. She’d spent five years having to believe he was dead, for that was the only way he’d abandon her. But what if . . . ?

  She made a promise to herself. She wouldn’t hide from Chase. She’d tell him all of her story, all the blank spots she’d glossed over, and let the chips fall where they may.

  Before she started to type, the phone rang. It was Chase. As if she’d summoned him from thin air.

  With a smile, she answered. “Hey. How are you tonight?”

  “Fine. All good. Did you have a nice run?”

  “How’d you know I went for a run?”

  “You’re out of the hospital before dark, that’s why.”

  “Wow. You already know me so well. What time is your flight tomorrow?”

  “I’ll be there in the afternoon. I have a car, don’t worry about picking me up. Aubrey—” He broke off, and she heard something odd in his tone. “We need to talk.”

  Her heart started beating double time. “About what?”

  “Just . . . things. I have something I want to say, but I want to do it in person. Okay?”

  She fought to keep the tears from her voice. “If you’re breaking up with me, you can do it now and save the plane fare.”

  “Whoa, no. That’s not it.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “Tomorrow, honey. I have to go now. Sweet dreams, okay?”

  “Yeah, you, too.” She hung up the phone and started to cry in earnest.

  She couldn’t lose him now. Not now. Not when everything was starting to come together.

  She opened her email again, planning again to send him a note.

  And saw a new mail, from an unknown address. With only two words in the subject line:

  He’s alive.

  Her heart took off. She clicked on the
mail. It took a moment to pull up. The image began to scroll onto the screen, pixel by pixel. Dark and grainy, like an art house black-and-white.

  Except this wasn’t an art house photo.

  Aubrey’s hand went to her mouth to fight the sudden nausea that threatened to overtake her.

  Josh. Josh standing in a darkened corner, facing the camera. A woman’s white-blond hair hovering at his waistline. His eyes closed, head thrown back in ecstasy.

  She shut her eyes, willing the photo to disappear, for the shocking pain that lit her skin to fade. When she opened her eyes, the photo was still there, and a fine rage began to build, fiery hot, lighting her from within.

  She didn’t know who was playing with her mind, but she wasn’t going to fall for it. Not again.

  CHAPTER 36

  Aubrey

  Five Years Ago

  Aubrey drove Arlo’s car to the house. Arlo was silent, drumming his fingers on his knee, still smelling like tequila and stale vomit. She didn’t care. She just wanted to get home.

  The house was dark. April had turned into a blackberry winter; the windows were glazed with an edge of frost along the sill. Aubrey parked on the street, for some reason not wanting to be in her own driveway. She was overcome with dread. Something was so, so wrong.

  Arlo tripped as he was getting out of the car, and went down hard on his knees.

  “Whoops,” he said. Normally they would be laughing; Arlo was still a little drunk and very ungainly, but now, all she could do was grit her teeth and go around the nose of the car to help him.

  “What’s this?” he said under his breath.

  She could see him in the glow from the streetlights. He was on his butt, staring at his hand.

  “I’m bleeding,” he said.

  “Come on. Josh has a first aid kit in every bathroom. I’ll patch you up.”

  Eerie, the similarities: Josh had patched her up just hours before. Her lip throbbed in turn with the memory, and she realized her neck was sore. Whiplash rearing its ugly head.

  Arlo held out his nonbloody hand, and she hauled him to his feet.

 

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