Betrayal (Secrets, Lies, and Deception Book 2)

by Heather Walsh

  Peter accepted her explanation with a nod. “I don’t remember my mother mentioning Emma Anderson. And I don’t remember seeing her name on my mother’s calendar. I can ask my brother, he should be here in a few hours.”

  “That would be great.” Kat took out a leftover business card, doing her best to ignore Stephen’s irritation, and wrote her cell phone number on the back. Handing it to Peter, she said, “That’s my cell. Had your mother ever mentioned a woman named Karen Young?”

  “No,” Peter and Claire said in unison before Peter asked, “Who is she?”

  “Your mother’s old college roommate. She was—”

  “Murdered,” Peter gasped, holding up his hand.

  Kat closed her mouth, anticipation causing butterflies in her gut. Don’t get excited, she warned herself.

  “My mother never mentioned her by name…” Peter began, letting his sentence trail off.

  Claire glanced up at Peter before turning her attention to Kat. “Her roommate, she’s the reason my mother didn’t want me going away to school,” she explained slowly, her voice almost a whisper. “Not that I would have. We have the Culinary Institute in our back yard.” Just two miles down the road, in fact. “She was forever warning me about college parties, alcohol and drugs.”

  Peter glanced at his sister before looking back at Kat. “Her roommate was drugged and raped during a frat party. And later, murdered.”

  Stunned, Kat gaped at Peter as everything she’d learned over the past few days came together. Everybody’s denial that Karen Young would cheat on Greg, their devotion to each other, their break up and reunion. And in her mind a scenario began taking shape.

  “Could you tell us everything your mother told you about her?” Stephen asked when the silence had gone on a little too long as Kat tried, and failed, to find her voice.

  “That’s all I know. My mother never gave us any details. Like Claire said, she used it as a life lesson, forever warning us about alcohol and drugs. Which is why we find it impossible to believe she died of a drug overdose.”

  Stephen asked a few more questions while Kat figured out the next step. There were two people she needed to speak with immediately. Stephen stood, placing his hand on the small of her back. Kat stood as well. “Thank you so much for meeting with us today. I promise I’ll keep you updated.”

  And after a few more pleasantries that Kat barely managed to get through, they were finally outside. She sucked in air, barely able to fill her lungs as Stephen guided her to his truck.

  “First, you set me up. Second, you’re impersonating a police officer? Really, Kat?” he gritted out. “Alex would have a fucking field day with this information. How could you be—” Abruptly Stephen cut himself off. “Shit, you’re white as a ghost.”

  Kat looked at him without really seeing him, her head spinning with the possibilities.

  “Talk to me, sweetheart,” Stephen said, reaching over to pull her closer, leaving the truck running so they wouldn’t melt in the heat.

  “She was killed. Their mother was killed because she knew the truth.”

  “We don’t know that.”

  “How the hell can you say that!” Kat yelled, so tired of everybody telling her she was wrong. Maybe not quite so much in words, but actions. “Everybody involved with this case is dead!” Or nearly beaten to death, Kat thought. But Jessica Adams…oh God.

  And then she remembered she hadn’t told them about the party, hadn’t told them about her meeting with Blake. “There was a party,” she said after she swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “Thanksgiving weekend, or the Tuesday before the weekend. A frat party. Karen Young was there and Blake, one of Greg’s roommates, saw her leaving with someone. She was—” Raped, Kat thought, but couldn’t even bring herself to say the word aloud. And by the look on Stephen’s face, she knew she didn’t have to spell it out. “I’m pretty sure she got pregnant that weekend.”

  Stephen sucked in a breath and then suddenly he was glancing around the parking lot, his body on full alert. He pulled the seatbelt around her, clicking it into place before buckling his own.

  “There’s more,” he prodded once they were on the road.

  “Eleanor, Karen’s foster mother, said she was despondent all weekend, barely came out of her room. She’d blamed it on missing Greg because he was out of town for the holiday. But that wasn’t the problem.” Kat took a deep breath. “Over Christmas break, she broke up with Greg, but never told him why. Blake said he saw Greg in a bar in January, said he was taking the breakup hard. Blake was the one to tell Greg that Karen cheated on him. After they were broken up. Within a month they were back together then married a month after that.”

  “She told Greg the truth,” Stephen said.

  “It makes sense,” Kat sighed. “By all accounts, Greg was devoted to her, they were both devoted to each other. Which is why I couldn’t understand why she cheated on him, even though I knew she did because the baby wasn’t Greg’s. But when Blake told me about the party, I was still…surprised, I guess.”

  Stephen stopped at a red light, his unease obvious. “Who was the man at the party?”

  “That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” Kat sighed, feeling nauseous. “When I spoke with Blake, he said he didn’t know, but I got the feeling he was lying. We should go talk to him again.”

  “Or not,” Stephen said, glaring at her. “That’s where you disappeared to the other day?”

  “He lives in Massachusetts. It took a while.”

  “And what if he was the man who raped Karen Young?”

  Kat ignored that even as it sent a chill through her. Because Stephen was right, he very well could be. “I don’t think he would have brought it up if he was one.” She could tell it took Stephen an incredible amount of effort not to snap.

  “Jessica Adams,” Kat said softly. “She was with Karen at that party. She was also dating Greg first, before Greg met Karen.”

  Stephen stared at her for a few heartbeats. “Who else knew about Emma’s investigation?”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Ethan knew.

  But that’s not what came out of Kat’s mouth and Stephen wondered if she was purposely ignoring the obvious.

  “I don’t know,” she sighed. “Greg’s mother is the only person I can find that Emma actually spoke with.”

  “She spoke with Jessica Adams.”

  “What?” Kat cried. “Jessica pretended she didn’t know who Emma was.”

  “She lied,” Stephen said. “Alex was watching Jessica Adams. That’s how he discovered Emma knew Matthew Harrington was still alive.”

  “Why was Alex watching Jessica Adams?”

  Stephen clamped his mouth shut, refusing to answer. Wrong move. Kat seethed, her entire body jolting with anger, hot and intense. “Fucking answer me!”

  Stephen’s tires screeched as he whipped off the road at his first opportunity, the truck stalling, rolling the rest of the way into the convenient store parking lot as he gaped at her in shock. He didn’t think he’d ever heard that word out of Kat’s mouth before. Not with such vehemence.

  “Stay,” he commanded, allowing no argument before grabbing his phone, slamming the door shut with so much force it was a miracle the glass didn’t break.

  Day One of forever was off to a great fucking start.

  He rounded the side of his truck, leaning against the tailgate, the phone gripped in his fist. He couldn’t do it anymore, he thought. He’d tried. So damned hard.

  But the hurt behind her tone, underneath her anger? He had too much respect for her and he never wanted her to doubt that.

  Even if it went against every fiber of his being, he wouldn’t keep her from the investigation any longer.

  So he lifted the damn phone and ten minutes later, got back in his truck. “Jessica Adams was released from the hospital yesterday about the time Alex and his men were up at the party.”

  Silence. He tried again. “You still have that address in Massachusetts?
”

  Kat ignored the olive branch. She’d unbuckled her belt, turned completely sideways in the seat. Like the other day, she was probably too pissed off to speak. So he blurted out the truth. “I’m scared. I know I’ve said it before, but seeing you nearly killed…” He struggled to find the right words, but couldn’t. “The way I feel about you, I’ve never felt this way before. Never loved another woman the way I love you. I’d probably be overprotective anyway, but seeing that…maybe it’s still too soon, but it changed something inside me and I don’t think I’ll ever fully recover.”

  Kat turned, finally, but Stephen continued before she interrupted. “It’ll always be there, in the back of my mind. Last night didn’t help, finding the dead man in the conference room I knew you’d been in. And now that you’re finally mine, I have this irrational fear that you’ll be ripped away from me again. It’s not healthy, so I’ll work on it. But until then, I’m asking for a little understanding and a whole lot of patience.”

  He’d rendered her speechless. And he was about to do it again. He reached over, grabbed her with both hands and hauled her onto his lap, leveling the sappiness of his words so he didn’t sound like a complete wimp. “Don’t turn your back on me,” he growled before crushing her mouth with his. “Not ever.”

  It was another ten minutes before they left the parking lot. But the tension between them had evaporated by the time they were pulling onto Blake’s street nearly three hours later, after he’d purposely wasted time stopping for lunch.

  Stephen knocked on Blake’s door, Kat right beside him. The man glanced at Kat first when he opened the door before his gaze settled on Stephen. Possibly a former jock, Stephen thought, his muscle going to fat. What little hair remained was gray, matching his deep-set gray eyes. After a quick introduction and explanation, they followed him into the kitchen. Stephen tamped down the uneasiness in his gut, convincing himself it was from picturing Kat here by herself, with a possible rapist and murderer.

  “You said Karen Young left with someone the night of the party. Do you remember who he was?” Stephen asked.

  Blake gave Kat a sidelong glance before looking back at Stephen. Instantly, he understood and apparently, so did Kat. “Is there a bathroom I could use?”

  “Down the hall and to the right.” As soon as Kat was out of the room, Blake turned to him. “There were three of them,” he admitted. He stood near the sink, keeping his eye on the opening between the kitchen and living room.

  “And you didn’t think something might be wrong with that?” Stephen asked.

  Blake hesitated. “Not then. I was drunk. We were all drunk. And that kind of thing, it happened more often than not at those frat parties. Getting laid was the point.”

  He finally glanced at him and Stephen couldn’t help but wonder if Blake had been one of three. “It’s possible she was drugged.”

  Blake didn’t look surprised. “I ran into Greg once after he married Karen. I didn’t ask why he’d married her, it was none of my business at that point. But he hinted there was more shit going on than what it seemed. I wondered what he meant. Not then, but throughout the years, when I got a little wiser and older.”

  “Greg knew what happened?”

  “He didn’t say anything more. But yes, looking back, I think he knew.”

  “Yet you told—” Stephen couldn’t believe he was going to say this— “Investigator Collins she had an affair.”

  “Listen, Mr. Chandler. It was more than thirty years ago, before date rape was a thing, before consent while drunk wasn’t really consent. Back then I was a cocky, arrogant frat boy where shit like that was commonplace. Excuse my language, but at the time, I thought Greg was a fucking wimp for crying in his beer when she dumped him. Then I was even more disgusted when he took her back, married her when she was likely pregnant with another man’s baby. I mean, who does shit like that?”

  An unbelievably good man, Stephen thought. A man who loved his girl unconditionally. Kat hadn’t made a peep, but he knew she was listening, knew without a doubt, even if this investigation she started didn’t lead to Emma’s killer, he knew she wouldn’t be giving it up. Not until she found justice for Karen Young.

  “Who were the men?” Stephen asked, the question making him queasy. It never got easier, hearing the atrocities people committed against each other. And perhaps it was because he knew Kat was listening, or perhaps it was because of everything he’d gone through in the last six weeks, but he finally thought he’d had enough. Kat didn’t need to live in a world where she’d be exposed to this crap day in and day out, this life she never wanted in the first place.

  Maybe he didn’t either.

  “I didn’t know them. I think they were from a different school.”

  And just like Kat said, the man was lying. Stephen had no jurisdiction here, had nothing to threaten him with. But if the man was feeling the need to lie, he was obviously hiding something. “We can offer you protection.”

  “Why the hell would I need protection from a rape case that’s nearly four decades old?” Blake asked, but Stephen saw the flicker of wariness on the man’s face, proving he wasn’t as clueless as he’d have them believe.

  “Murder case,” Stephen corrected. “Karen Young was murdered.” Right or wrong, Stephen laid it all out, filling in the blanks where questions remained, even if was stretching the truth a little. Or working off Kat’s assumptions. “Emma Anderson?” Stephen waited for the man’s nod of recognition before continuing. “She was murdered.”

  Blake nodded, his face paling a little, but he said nothing. “Since then, Karen Young’s roommate was also murdered. Another roommate was nearly beaten to death. She’s still in the hospital. On life support,” Stephen added, stretching the truth. “And, I forgot to mention that Emma Anderson was stabbed in the stomach and left for dead. Just like Karen Jones. So you tell me, Mr. Blake. Do you need protection? Because sure as shit, I won’t be the last person asking you about this case.”

  The man remained silent so long, turning to look out the kitchen window again. His shoulders slumped, just a miniscule amount, enough to cause Stephen’s heartbeat to pick up a little. “I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t know who they were. I didn’t. Not then. But because of the public life they lead…John Harrington and Fred Koski.”

  “Senator John Harrington?”

  Stephen’s head was spinning, trying to fit all the pieces of the puzzle together. Then time seemed to stop, the next few moments playing out in slow motion as the back of Blake’s head exploded while Stephen watched in horror.

  He dropped to the floor, pulling his gun from the holster, frantically scanning the kitchen until his gaze settled on the back door as he yelled for Kat, her silence filling him with a fear that was becoming way too familiar.

  He glanced up at the window. Open, no screen to see if a bullet had gone through it. And then Kat was there, calling his name. Stephen raced toward her, whipping her around so she wouldn’t see the grisly scene, yet another nightmare that would replay through her head.

  “Other way! Bathroom!”

  Kat ran even as Stephen pushed her forward, staying low as they made their way down the hallway. “Get in the tub, lie down flat,” Stephen said urgently.

  “No. Wait—”

  “Now!”

  And then Alex was racing through the door, yelling Stephen’s name. He called out, hearing the panic in his voice.

  “Get her out. Take my car,” he said, handing Stephen the keys. “Give me yours.” Stephen tossed him the keys.

  “I’ll call 911 and deal with the fallout. Just get her out, take her to the cabin. Make damn sure you’re not followed. And for God’s sake, don’t let her out of your sight.”

  As if he would. “Cases are tied—”

  “Later,” Alex interrupted.

  “Damn it, Alex. Listen to me. Senator Harrington allegedly raped Karen Young at a frat party more than thirty years ago. You need to watch your fucking back.”

  �
��I hear you, but you both need to get the fuck out of here, can’t be here when the police show up. You can’t be investigating this case. You’re the prime fucking suspect.”

  Chapter Thirty

  They heard Alex’s motorcycle well before he walked in the door. Funny, Kat thought, she’d forgotten he’d had one. Hadn’t seen him ride it since she’d been back. Stephen used the remote to turn off the news as Kat untangled herself from his arms and sat up, gaping at Alex when he walked through the cabin door.

  He ran his hand through his hair. Self-consciously, she thought. “Did I fuck it up?”

  “Um…no. I just forgot how much you and Stephen look alike.”

  “What’s with the cut?”

  “Long story. Just don’t be surprised if your face isn’t the only one in tomorrow’s headlines. At least your headlines are getting better,” Alex said, nodding toward Stephen.

  They had. While they’d been waiting for Alex, they’d watched the news. There had been no mention of everything that had gone down at the party last night, only Kat’s statement being played on top of the Attorney General’s.

  “And I had to ditch your truck, Stephen. At least for a while.”

  “What the hell happened?” Xavier asked. “And why didn’t you just show them your badge?”

  “Yeah, about that,” Alex grinned.

  “Jesus, Alex. You were suspended? You said he told you to take a vacation.”

  “Yeah, a vacation without my badge.”

  “Jesus, Alex,” Xavier began then shook his head. “Forget it. It’s not my main concern right now. What happened?”

  “George Blake killed himself.”

  “The third man,” Kat gasped, relief so palpable her knees buckled, or would have had she been standing. She’d hoped, prayed even. Because if George Blake was the third, Thomas O’Rourke wasn’t.

  She looked down at her phone, wanting so badly to call Ethan. But it would have to wait. And he probably wouldn’t answer anyway, she thought with a pang. He hadn’t returned any of her other calls or texts today.