Betrayal (Secrets, Lies, and Deception Book 2)

by Heather Walsh

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kat tensed.

  Not how he wanted to start the morning, Ethan thought as he tightened his arms around her waist, pulling her closer into his chest. Last night, she’d fallen asleep before he’d been able to take their conversation where he wanted it to go, something he desperately needed to rectify.

  “Good morning, sweetheart,” he whispered against her ear. He’d been awake for hours already, driven from her arms in the early hours of the morning because of the fucking drive Emma had stolen from him. He considered it pure luck that Kat was still asleep when he crawled back into her bed. But he couldn’t help wondering how much she’d seen the day before…

  And he couldn’t decide whether to relieved or terrified that he hadn’t found the one piece of information he was looking for.

  “Sleep well?” he asked. Kat didn’t pull away, but she didn’t melt into him the way he wanted. The way he needed. Jesus, he wanted her. Kissing the top of her head, he turned her face toward his, so he could see her expression. But her eyes were still closed, and he wondered how far to push.

  When she finally opened them, the longing he saw was like a punch to his gut. He sucked in a breath, let it out slowly before pressing his mouth against hers. A soft kiss, because he was so afraid she’d bolt.

  “Don’t play games with me, Ethan,” she whispered at the same time his alarm buzzed. Rolling over, he grabbed his phone from the nightstand. Kat shot from the bed like a bullet, rushing toward her bathroom, nearly slamming the door behind her.

  Well, fuck. It wasn’t going to be as easy as he hoped. He went downstairs and started the coffee. He handed her a mug when she came into the kitchen. “I have to go into the office. I have a case that’s going to court tomorrow that I need to finish preparing for. But I’m hoping I won’t be too late. Have dinner with me?”

  “Sure,” Kat said easily. “What time?”

  “I’ll text you later.” Because hopefully they’d have the discussion he’d had to table the night before. “What do you have planned for the day?”

  “Nothing much,” she said, but he didn’t miss the way she glanced at the drive.

  He was taking a huge risk, leaving that damn drive where it was. Emma was devious enough to load files and delete them, knowing Kat would be able to recover everything. He wished he could just smash the fucking thing.

  “Don’t lie to me.” Hoping to take the sting out of his words, he rested his hands on her hips, pulling her into him, her coffee mug digging into his chest as she held it between them. Tightening his hand in her hair, he forced her to look up at him. Irritation swirled in her eyes, but before she could speak, he dropped a kiss on her upturned mouth, surprising her. He didn’t want another argument, didn’t want the distance that had grown over the past five weeks. “I nearly lost you six weeks ago, Kat. I can’t go through that again. Let the police handle this investigation. Please.”

  “So they can arrest Stephen? Because you know he’s probably the only suspect they’re really looking at right now.”

  Ruthlessly tamping down the irritation of hearing Stephen’s name on her lips, Ethan released her, turning and grabbing his own coffee, not wanting her to see the expression on his face. And not trusting himself to pull her into him and kiss the hell out of her, wiping every memory of Stephen from her head. “Do not get involved in this—”

  “I already am.”

  “You’re not,” he denied. “Allen’s bullshit is just that. Bullshit. Give Robinson a little time—”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  Kat set her mug on the counter. Instead of answering, she asked, “Who’s Greg Radcliffe and Karen Young?”

  Ethan sucked in a breath, willing his heart to steady before he spoke. “Wrong question, Kat.”

  “What?”

  “You should have asked who Anne Radcliffe was,” he growled. “Because that’s the name in the file. Which tells me you’ve already been out investigating after you promised, just yesterday, you wouldn’t. What the hell?”

  “It’s what I do!”

  “Did,” he reminded her. “It’s what you did. In case you’ve forgotten, you resigned.” Which meant she didn’t have a service weapon, didn’t have backup. And he knew even if he tried to convince her to drop it, he’d be fighting a losing battle. Frustration screamed through him, his hands nearly shaking with the effort it took not to grab her and take her away from all this.

  Shit!

  Forcing his tone lower, unwilling to let this escalate into an argument, he answered her question. “Greg was my father’s best friend. They first met in high school, playing for rival baseball teams. Met again in college, finally playing for the same team. Just after their senior year, Greg’s wife was murdered. When the police came with an arrest warrant, Greg took off in his car and died when he lost control. Their deaths, it was something my father had never gotten over. It haunted him. It was no secret when we were growing up. We all knew he worked on that case in his spare time, whenever he got a minute. Not that it was often with four kids and a wife, not to mention being the police chief.”

  “In all these years, he never found anything?”

  “No,” Ethan said, shaking his head. “Years ago, a private investigator came around and my father was excited for a while, but I don’t think it led anywhere.”

  “Emma knew? About the case?” Kat asked.

  “Yes. She spent as much time at our house as she did her own.”

  “Karen Young was stabbed in the stomach just like Emma was.”

  “Jesus,” Ethan breathed, clutching the countertop. “I’d forgotten that.” Fear pierced through him. “Please, Kat. I’m asking you to stay out of it. I do not, under any circumstances, want you involved in this, especially if this is the reason Emma was killed.”

  Kat blew out a breath, looking just as frustrated as Ethan felt. “I can look over some computer files and analyze some data.”

  He didn’t believe for one second she’d stop there. Glancing at the clock, he saw he was out of time, was going to be late. Despite his better judgement, he nodded until he could figure out a different plan. “Then analyze data, but do not put yourself in harm’s way.”

  “I won’t,” she said. But he didn’t believe her for a minute.

  ***

  They found her.

  Not the hoards Kat expected, just one lone news van sitting at the bottom of her driveway. She did her best to ignore him as she pulled onto the highway, narrowly missing his feet when he refused to back away. She saw his mouth moving, firing questions as she was forced to stop at the end of her driveway, but she’d turned up the music loud enough to drown them out.

  Breathing out a sigh of relief once she was on the highway, she lowered the volume to a normal level. At least they hadn’t tried to go up her to her house, but she was betting they’d try before long. Glancing at the clock, she was relieved to see she had plenty of time to make it to Albany and still be back in time for dinner with Ethan.

  Everything Ethan had told her was true, at least according to the private investigator’s interview. Thomas O’Rourke had turned over every scrap of evidence he’d had in the hopes of catching a break on the case. He’d still been in contact with the original officers who’d handled the investigation.

  But Emma had planted Anne Radcliffe’s name in Ethan’s drive for her to find. On purpose. And the thought of why filled her with dread.

  After gathering a list of names and addresses to interview today, she’d left a message for Genevieve Harrington, hoping she would have some information on Emma’s current stories. And to verify whether Emma was in fact investigating Greg Radcliffe and Karen Young.

  An hour later, Kat was ushered into Angela Jacobs’ office. She was the Director of Human Resources for the State University of New York, otherwise known as SUNY. She hadn’t gone far, Kat thought, still at the same university she’d attended with Karen.

  The secretary greeted he
r and waved for her to have a seat. She didn’t have to wait long. It was only a few minutes before Angela came out of her office. She was tall, her dark hair streaked with gray and warm brown eyes. She smiled pleasantly at Kat. “Investigator Collins?”

  “Please, call me Kat.” She stood, taking Angela’s outstretched hand before following her down the hallway toward her office.

  Once Angela was seated behind her desk, her smile dropped, sadness overtaking her expression. “You said on the phone you were investigating Karen Young’s death?”

  “I am,” Kat confirmed. “Her case came up during another investigation. Has anybody contacted you about it?”

  “No.” Angela shook her head. “Not for, I don’t know, eight years maybe? A private investigator hired by Greg’s mother. Not that it’ll help, but I’ll tell you the same thing I told him. I never believed Greg killed Karen.”

  “Did you know of any suspects?”

  “Other than Greg’s witch of a mother, no. But the police focused on Greg, so I’m not sure how much time they spent on anybody else.”

  “Why don’t you believe Greg murdered Karen?”

  “Greg was a nice guy. Really nice. They had this connection between them you could practically see. He was as in love with her as she was with him. That’s not to say they didn’t have problems, but they seemed to overcome them all.”

  “What sort of problems?”

  “I never really knew. Things changed between them the last month before Christmas break. Karen was miserable suddenly. I tried talking to her, but she blew me off every time, finally just saying she needed to concentrate on her studies, that she had failed a mid-term and couldn’t afford to lose her scholarship.”

  “Was that true?”

  Angela shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s possible. Nothing was more important to Karen than getting that degree.”

  “Do you think she may have met somebody else? Didn’t want to tell Greg until after the semester ended?”

  Angela laughed. “Karen? No. Not in a million years. Greg was her first boyfriend. She barely ever looked at a man before him and certainly never looked at one after. And like Karen had said, it was the end of the semester and we were all cramming for finals. And before you ask, Greg wasn’t a player. He was the real deal.

  “But it did always strike me as odd that Karen didn’t break it off with him until after finals were over, when we were all on break. Kind of blows the ‘losing her scholarship’ reasoning out the window. It wasn’t until February, around Valentine’s Day, when they got back together. A month later they were married and a month after that we learned she was pregnant, so it didn’t take a genius to figure out the reasons behind their sudden marriage.”

  “Karen never let on that she was pregnant?”

  “No,” Angela said, shaking her head. “She may have told Donna, Donna Henderson. She was Karen’s best friend, they shared a room together in our dorm.”

  “Do you think they only got back together because of the baby?”

  “I don’t know. And I don’t think it matters. Like all young couples, they were scared about having a baby, but both finally seemed happy again. They were miserable when they were apart.”

  “Were there any other problems between them before Karen’s murder?”

  “Their biggest problem was Greg’s mother.”

  “What about any of Greg’s friends or roommates?”

  “George Blake was his roommate, he used to hang out sometimes. Thomas O’Rourke was Greg’s best friend, they weren’t roommates though. Thomas and his girlfriend had an apartment. They spent a lot of time over there. Tom…he never gave up on the case. He’d call every once in a blue moon, but he never found anything.”

  “Do you know what happened to the baby?”

  “Last I knew, Jessica brought him to Greg’s mother. But I heard she turned right away and gave him to Eleanor Mason.” Angela said, disgust filling her tone. “She was Karen’s foster mother. A lovely woman. She and Karen stayed close, ever after she aged out of the system.”

  “Jessica and Greg were friends?”

  “We all were. After Karen was murdered, we all helped with the baby. Jessica introduced Greg and Karen. In a roundabout sort of way, but she always took the credit for getting them together,” Angela smiled. “Before Greg met Karen, he was dating Jessica. Not long, only went out for a couple dates. Jess was running late one night. Greg was waiting for her in the dorm. He met Karen and they just…hit it off.”

  “And Jessica was okay with that?”

  Angela laughed. “Jessica was thrilled. Like I said before, Greg was a nice guy. A little too nice for Jessica, who was more of a free spirit, at least back then. She wasn’t looking for anything permanent, just looking for some fun. Greg was definitely not the guy for her.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Four floors below, Stephen watched as the press flooded the streets, effectively trapping him. Unlike yesterday, the police department couldn’t keep up with the sheer volume of news vans. Reporters lined the sidewalks, covering every exit. County citizens were out in force, demanding his resignation, their faith in him destroyed. On top of another rejection. One more job prospect he could cross of the list.

  His entire life, he’d conducted himself with integrity and honesty, his reputation above reproach, living his life in accordance with his future goals. A future that was systematically being demolished.

  Until now, he had believed in the system. Believed truth and justice would always prevail. But no matter the outcome in the coming days, his name would forever be tainted by scandal. He wanted to rage at the world for the injustice of it all, for a future that was no longer within his reach.

  Stephen glanced at the clock, dread roiling through him. He was due in court in an hour, due to walk up those revered steps into the courthouse lobby, something he’d done thousands of time before. But today microphones would be shoved into his face, reporters screaming questions, the public shouting accusations. Stephen would be reduced to defending himself, words that would fall on deaf ears.

  He could use the back entrance, he thought sarcastically. The one reserved for criminals. Christ, he thought. What the fuck had he ever done to deserve this?

  “Your attendance at the senator’s party was leaked to the press.”

  Of course it was. “Did they post pictures of me murdering her?” Bitterness infused every word as Stephen tore his gaze away from the chaos below him. Tracy Connelly walked into his office, her expression filled with sympathy. Tamping down his irritation, he barely resisted the urge to lash out at her. Tracy had stood by his side through all the bullshit with his father, with his grandfather. She hadn’t once looked at him as if he was to blame. Had never looked at him with suspicion. It wasn’t her fault that his life was collapsing around him with no fucking way to fix it.

  Tracy ignored his comment. “Your court date was postponed.”

  Thank God, Stephen thought. One battle he didn’t have to fight today.

  “I also wanted to give you a heads up,” Tracy said after she closed the door.

  The silence stretched until Stephen couldn’t bear it anymore. But he already knew what Tracy was going to say. “Just spill it.”

  “The state attorneys are here.”

  Stephen closed his eyes briefly while he let that sink in. His heart thumped, pain and fear roaring through him, excruciating in its intensity. Tracy took a small step forward, freezing instantly as stopped her with a sharp glare. He needed to be alone, needed to get the fuck out of the office before he lost the battle with his control.

  “Is Allen with them?” Images of being dragged out of the building in handcuffs… No. No fucking way.

  “He isn’t.” Tracy paused before hesitantly saying, “I’ll do anything I can to help you, Stephen. You’re the most honorable man I’ve ever met. Don’t forget that.”

  Before Stephen could reply, she was gone. He took a few deep breaths, let them out slowly, taking Tracy’s words fo
r what they were. A warning.

  Twenty minutes later, Stephen was staring at the diplomas on his wall when State Attorney James Ashford knocked on the door, the same attorney Stephen had been working with these past six weeks.

  Drawing himself up to his full six-foot-three inches, Stephen opened the door, towering over the much smaller man. He refused to cower before anybody, refused to appear broken. Pride might be the only thing he had right now, and there was no fucking way he’d give that up. James fiddled with his glasses, refusing to make eye contact and the dread pulsed again. Legally, they couldn’t fire him. He hadn’t been convicted of any wrongdoing. Hell, he hadn’t even been arrested. No warrants have even been issued to search his house or office.

  James cleared his throat before he finally looked up. Any respect he’d had for the man was quickly diminishing. “Perhaps you’d like to take a vacation? With pay, of course.”

  Fuck the pay. He didn’t need the fucking pay, he needed his reputation. And if they forced him out, once the press got wind of it, he’d look even more guilty, losing any respectability he managed to hang on to. “Perhaps,” Stephen said, fighting to remain calm, “You’d like to go out there and give a press conference confirming your belief in my innocence.” He flung his hand toward the window. “Perhaps, you could recount my years of service, my exceptional conviction record—”

  “That’s exactly what we intend to do,” James interrupted, holding up his hand. “Please accept my apologies for my poor attempt at humor. And apparently, the terrible timing.” James tried to smile, but failed to deliver. He cleared his throat again. “Media relations is working on the speech, which I will deliver tomorrow. Personally.” He paused for a moment, giving Stephen time to absorb that. “If you want to weather the storm, that’s on you. I’m not here to force you out, nor am I here to make your life miserable. However, I am here to ask if you’re willing to turn over any court cases you have scheduled.”