It was hard to be angry with her for a misguided but selfless act.
He still loved her.
He didn’t like her all that much at the moment.
He was angry at what had been stolen from them. Frustrated at thinking that she didn’t love him all this time. It had been a waste and he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the consequences – to both of them – from this one decision.
Fifteen years ago, Arden had turned her back on him. This time it was his turn. He grabbed his key card and stuffed it in his pocket, betrayal and hurt churning in his gut and bringing the bile up into his throat.
He walked out of the door.
* * *
Arden’s sobbing finally subsided sometime after Shane walked out. At first, she’d thought he would immediately turn around and come back but as the minutes ticked away she realized she’d hurt him too much. He was angry and in pain, the same wound that festered in her own heart. Truthfully she wasn’t sure how they were supposed to come back from damage this deep.
At some point, their breakfast had arrived and she was sure the waiter was worried she was either a criminal on the run or a rock star as she’d kept her head down so her hair fell over her face. She hadn’t wanted him to see her cry.
Padding into the bathroom, she rinsed her face with cool water and tried to repair her red, swollen eyes. She wasn’t a pretty crier and this was worse than usual. Between the black mascara running down her face and the splotchy skin she was officially a mess.
Once put back together she popped open a ginger ale and settled onto the couch, her stomach too queasy to even entertain the idea of eating. Feeling like the world had ended took a lot out of a person.
She didn’t blame him for leaving. On the contrary, he’d shown amazing patience and managed to hold onto his temper even when she’d known he was furious.
He was also right. She hadn’t trusted him or herself but she’d been not much more than a child at the time, terrified and easily persuaded. Her father had been the first to plant the idea that Shane might not want a female that couldn’t give him children. She couldn’t blame Ben, however. He might have planted the seed but she’d given it plenty of water and sunlight until it had taken over every thought in her head. She’d been obsessed with Shane turning his back on her either then or in the future.
Listlessly, she checked her phone for any messages before switching on the television. The noise made her feel less alone. But it didn’t change the fact that she was.
* * *
Shane walked along the city streets, hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket and his eyes down. He barely registered the sounds and people around him, his mind focused on one person.
Arden.
It was too late for what-if’s, although a torrent of them had run through his mind since he walked out of the hotel room. She hadn’t believed in him and that hurt. But she’d been hurting just as badly or worse, going through a nightmare he wouldn’t have wished on his worst enemy. He was angry and sad that he hadn’t been there and he’d taken it out on her.
What part had Ben played in all this?
He couldn’t get that question out of his mind either. Young Arden had idolized her father to the point she hadn’t believed a word Shane had said against him. Facts and evidence hadn’t made a bit of difference; she’d been loyal and true. If Daddy Dearest pushed her to leave Shane then there was a good chance she would have done just that.
With the unfurling truth about her past, it was clear she’d been lied to and manipulated most of her life. It wasn’t a shock that she’d left him. Not really. Sheltered and naive, she would have taken every word from Ben’s lips as the truth.
Another reason to kick his ass the next time Shane saw him.
The past couldn’t be changed. They were different people than they had been but the feelings were still there, stronger if anything. If they tried hard perhaps they could have a future together. It wouldn’t be easy; there was a great deal of hurt to work through, but being with Arden would be worth it.
Stopping suddenly on the sidewalk, Shane smacked his forehead and groaned silently.
What in the hell am I doing here?
They’d been given the thing he’d hoped and prayed for…a second chance. Now he only hoped he hadn’t blown it. He turned on his heel and headed straight back to the hotel. And Arden.
Chapter Twenty
‡
The hotel door was thrown open and Shane stood in the opening with an intense expression on his handsome face. Arden’s heart lurched in her chest and her breath halted for a moment as her scrambled brain tried to make sense of what was about to happen. Was he here to scream and yell? Tell her she was a terrible person? Pack his things and leave?
He strode in and stood in front of her as she huddled on the couch, her knees brought up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs protectively.
“I’m sorry. I’m a fucking idiot but I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”
Huh?
“What? I don’t understand.”
“I’m sorry,” he repeated, the words echoing in her head. “Please forgive me.”
Letting go of her legs, Arden stood up on trembling knees. “What exactly am I forgiving you for?”
A smile slowly blossomed on his face, showing off the Anderson dimple in his cheek. “For being stupid and walking out. I should have got down on my knees and thanked the heavens that you loved me that much then and maybe still do, but I had to get all butthurt and bent out of shape. Can you forgive me?”
He still loved her. He was talking about a future and that’s what she wanted, so why was she hesitating?
There was one thing they needed to clear up. He had to understand.
“I can’t have children, Shane. Can you be okay with that? I made peace with it years ago but I know this is a shock to you.”
“I can be. I guess you’ll just have to get all my love and attention. You won’t have to share me.” His expression turned serious, his brow wrinkled. “I know we have a lot of work to do here and I’m not trying to minimize that. But dammit, I want a second chance. I’ve never stopped loving you. When I saw you that night at the party, it was like someone had punched me in the gut then gave me an uppercut to the jaw. You make me crazy but mostly you make me happy. Do I make you happy?”
Joy fluttered inside of her like the wings of a thousand butterflies. She’d never believed she’d hear those words again.
“Yes,” she whispered, the beating of her heart sounding like a marching band in a Fourth of July parade. “Yes, so much.”
“And do you forgive me?” he persisted when all Arden wanted was for him to throw her on the bed and ravish her at least a couple of times.
“Yes, I do. Do you forgive me?”
He shook his head, this time reaching out so his hands ran down her arms before pulling her close. The heat from his body instantly warmed her own and she breathed deeply, letting herself get high on his scent.
“There’s nothing to forgive. You were just trying to do the right thing out of love.”
He bent his head so his lips could ghost over hers, softly and then firmer, his tongue snaking out to trace her lower lip.
“I don’t know about you but all this forgiveness has worn me out,” she said huskily. “Maybe we should lie down for a while.”
Before she could take another breath, he’d bent over and pressed a shoulder into her middle so he could carry her, fireman style, back to the bed. Forgiveness was sweet indeed and she intended to savor every moment of it.
* * *
Shane pulled the rental car into the shaded driveway and peered at the numbers on the house. “This is it. Are you ready? Let’s hope this guy has some more information than that flimsy case file.”
After a morning of lying in bed and getting much more well-acquainted with one another’s bodies, they’d pried themselves out of the hotel room and driven to a town just outside of Indianapolis to see the detective
that had worked the Susannah Hollis murder case in Hemingdale. He was now retired and from what Jason could find out the man was also in ill health. Hopefully he might remember something that could help.
Arden caught his hand in hers and smiled. “I’m nervous but I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because he was there that night. That’s so…personal.”
Shane squeezed her hand as he rang the doorbell. “He was just doing his job. I’m sure he was very professional.”
The door swung open and a woman about Shane’s age was there greeting them with a smile. “Can I help you?”
Knowing Arden would tease him about it later, Shane turned on the charm hoping she wouldn’t slam the door on their faces. They hadn’t called ahead of time, as Shane was afraid the detective would refuse to see them. Cops could be strange about their former cases, especially those that were unsolved.
“My name is Shane Anderson and this is Arden Cavendish. We were wondering if perhaps we could speak with Robert Destin?”
The woman’s brows pulled together but she nodded. “Hold on here for a moment while I see if Dad is up to having visitors. We’re not selling anything.”
Shane heard the rumble of an older man’s voice and then the door opened again. “You can talk to him but just for a few minutes.”
“That’s fine,” Shane assured her. “This shouldn’t take long.”
Especially if the detective didn’t remember anything or refused to discuss the case. Shane would then simply hand him a business card, thank him for his time, and usher Arden back to the rental car.
They were quickly ensconced on the sofa across from Destin, the gray-haired man sitting in a recliner that had seen better days. His eyes were narrowed in suspicion as he waited for one of them to speak.
Shane cleared this throat and introduced themselves before cutting to the chase. “Detective Destin, we’re here about the Susannah Hollis murder. You were the lead on that case, I believe?”
A growl came from deep in the man’s chest and he waved his arm in the air as if swatting a fly. “I’m not a cop anymore so you can quit with the detective stuff. My name’s Bob and you can call me that. What do you want to know about the Hollis case? That was over thirty years ago.”
Shane leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He and Arden had agreed that he would take the first crack at persuading Destin to talk to them. “I realize it was a long time ago but we were hoping you might remember something that wasn’t in the police file. There wasn’t much there, to be honest.”
Bob leaned back, his gaze darting between Shane and Arden. “What does this have to do with you? Why do you care?”
Her hand came to rest on Shane’s thigh. “I’m Arden, Susannah’s daughter. I want to know who killed my mother, Mr. Destin. I need to know.”
Bob’s eyes widened in surprise and his fingers rubbed at his chin before answering. “If you’re asking me what I can prove then I have no idea. If you’re asking who I believe did it then, young lady, you need look no further than your own father.”
Chapter Twenty-One
‡
A small while later, Arden and Shane found themselves in Bob’s basement office. He’d kept copies of every case he’d worked on and the walls were lined with file folders.
“When I was younger I thought I might write a book someday about all my cases, but I let go of that dream a few years ago. I’m no writer. Heck, I don’t even like being on my computer if you want to know the truth.” The older man grimaced as he pulled the dusty folder from a stack and laid it on the table between Shane and Arden. “I’m sorry about earlier, my dear. My speed bump of judgment seems to be out of order now that I’ve retired. I shouldn’t have said that about your old man.”
Arden had been shocked when Destin had declared his opinion, but deep down she’d known Ben had a motive after talking to Delilah.
“It’s okay. We asked you and you told us. I want to know who really did it and if it’s my father…well…then I’ll deal with it. But I thought he was out of town at the time.”
Bob sat in the chair across from them. “So did we, but that was before 9/11. It would have been easy to buy a ticket under an assumed name and travel back to Hemingdale, do the deed, and then travel back to St. Louis. His last meeting was at four, which gave him plenty of time to get to Indianapolis. He had motive and opportunity. Statistically speaking, the most dangerous person in a woman’s life is the man in her life.”
“What about David Hollis? There are witnesses that put him at the scene of the crime,” Shane pointed out.
The detective nodded and opened the folder, pulling out two photos. “There was one witness who said they saw him there and three others who said they didn’t see anyone. But if you look at Ben and David, they looked so much alike that in dim lighting they could have been mistaken for one another.”
Arden held up the two pictures and was struck by their resemblance when they were younger. “David had an alibi?”
“Several witnesses saw him at the local watering hole, and trust me, they knew him well there. He was a regular so they weren’t going to confuse him with someone else. Besides, I questioned David Hollis myself. That man was devastated about Susannah’s death, just tore up. It was like he was the husband and Ben was the brother-in-law. Ben barely betrayed any emotion even when we questioned him hard. That was one stone cold bastard. It was like it was any other day.”
Shane cleared his throat. “Lack of emotion doesn’t make him a killer. I’m sure he was busy worrying about Arden and trying to hold things together for her.”
Bob shook his head, his lips twisted. “Actually, her grandmother was taking care of her. That woman is a force of nature and she managed to organize the funeral and take care of the baby all at the same time.”
As upset as Arden was with her grandmother at the moment, she couldn’t help but smile.
“That sounds like my grandmother. She’s a formidable woman.”
“She is.” Bob stood and shoved his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “There are some disturbing crime scene photos in here you might not want to see, Arden. Plus the autopsy report was graphic as well.”
Shane frowned and began to page through the file. “Those weren’t in the case file at the station.”
“They might have been lost, I suppose.” The detective rubbed his chin. “Once folders are put in storage things have a way of disappearing. They might have been shoved in the wrong file folder. I doubt they’re really gone.”
A photo fluttered from the folder and landed in front of Arden. It was a picture of a bedroom with a huge bloodstain on the floor. Shit, these were gruesome and she hadn’t even seen an image of her mother, just the scene. Shane snatched it away quickly and turned it face down on the table.
“I suppose that could have happened,” Shane conceded. “We’re damn lucky you kept copies. Does the police know about your private file collection?”
Bob chuckled and shook his head. “No, and I’d like to keep it that way. Now if you don’t mind I’ll go on upstairs while you look through this. If you have any questions don’t hesitate to ask, but with photos and reports this sensitive and personal it seems like I should leave you both alone. Will you be all right?”
“We will,” Arden assured him, relieved she wouldn’t have to try and keep up a strong facade in front of the retired officer. “I want to thank you again for this. You can’t know how much this means to me.”
“I think I might have an idea. Call me if you need me.”
Destin headed upstairs and Shane held up the file. “Maybe I should look through this first and weed out anything that might upset you.”
Swallowing hard, Arden shook her head. “I’ve already had a few shocks to my system and I’ve survived. I need to do this.”
She reached for the folder but Shane still held it out of her grasp. “How about we make a deal? You don’t look at the crime scene photos but the autopsy report is okay. It will be gr
aphic enough, I think.”
Arden chewed on her lower lip and then nodded in agreement. “Deal. Go ahead and pull the photos from the file.”
He shuffled the papers and separated the pictures before handing her the folder. She spent the next half hour reading through witness statements that hadn’t been in the original file, plus statements from her Uncle David and her father. Both men claimed to have loved her mother and that they would never hurt her in any way.
But in all probability, one of them shot her.
From the police notes, the idea of a random stranger shooting her mother had been discarded rather early in the investigation. The town was small and there had been no rash of violence or even a string of home break-ins or assaults. Plus, the shooting just happened to have occurred when her father was “supposedly” out of town. It pointed to someone who knew Susannah Hollis.
Feeling slightly sick to her stomach after reading the accounts, Arden picked up the autopsy report, her hands shaking slightly. She steeled herself for the gruesome facts of the damage done to her mother’s body that night. Luckily the report turned out to be just that…facts. Cold and unemotional, the coroner had recorded the size of the gunshot wound and the damage to her vital organs. Death had been blessedly quick.
Frowning, Arden read through the test reports regarding her mother’s blood alcohol level, which had been just below the current legal limit. “This can’t be right, Shane. The coroner got this wrong.”
He leaned over her shoulder to peer at the documents. “That she had a few drinks that night? She was about your size so I bet she only had to have a couple to feel pretty tipsy.”
Arden shook her head and tapped on the paper. “No…this. It says her blood type is O positive. It can’t be.”
“That’s the most common blood type in the world. I’m O positive.”
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