Broken Elements (Elements, Book 1)

by Mia Marshall

  Fortunately for my future as something other than a fugitive from justice, Mac had a more sensible plan. “Has anyone called her father?”

  That brought all avenging warrior plans to an immediate halt. It made sense for the man with more money than god and enough connections to influence the next presidential election to handle this. Plus, it was probably a better plan than flooding the jail. I held out my hand. “Phone.”

  Brian handed me his cell phone. “It’s in the contacts.” I scrolled to the number and dialed. It rang five, six, seven times, a sound that seemed to grow angrier and tenser the longer it was allowed to continue.

  Just as I was about to hang up and charge across town to pound on his hotel room door, he picked up. “What?” he answered, unmistakably angry and more than a little tired. Of course he was. It was four in the morning, I remembered.

  “Sera’s been arrested.”

  The anger and sleep left his voice immediately. “What’s happened?”

  I told him all I knew, which was notably little. “I don’t know what they found, but they picked her up several hours ago. Her bail hearing isn’t for three days.”

  He swore. “Too long. I’ll take care of it. But I suspect the delay means they don’t have as much evidence as they claim to have. They want time to build a stronger case. That’s good news, Aidan. You’ll be over there first thing in the morning?” He continued before I could agree. “Good. Try not to worry. I’d get her out even if she was guilty, and of course she’s not. I’ll take care of this.”

  I hung up, the phone call having calmed my panic. It was a relief to have someone else in charge, because I felt like I was scraping the bottom of my personal barrel of strength and overall competence. With Josiah in charge, the only thing I needed to do was go home, curl up in bed, and sob helplessly for several long minutes. And that’s exactly what I did.

  I awoke slowly to a world silenced by the snow that drifted slowly to the ground. Through my window, I could see only a wall of white, and I snuggled deeper into the duvet, relishing the warmth and peacefulness only found in a cozy cabin in the midst of a snowstorm. I indulged in a long, luxurious stretch, and as I turned my head, I caught sight of a cartoon devil resting on the bedside table. Sera’s keys.

  I sat bolt upright, the events of the night before coming sharply back, reminding me of harsh reality. Though the worst hopelessness of the night before had been somewhat mitigated by the magical oblivion of sleep, I was horrified to think that I had been lounging in bed while Sera waited in prison. I’d slept far later than I intended, the late night and recent stress exhausting my body and forcing it to demand a reprieve at an inconvenient time.

  Within minutes, I was dressed and heading downstairs, putting my hair up at the same time I navigated the staircase. Vivian and Simon were already awake. “Let’s go,” I announced, dangling Sera’s keys from one hand. I was impatient and irritated with myself, and I conveniently chose to ignore that they were waiting for me. The night before, I had walked directly to my bed, avoiding all conversation. I didn’t even know exactly why Sera was in custody.

  While Vivian grabbed their coats, I looked around the house. Everything was slightly different, moved a couple inches or placed on a different shelf. “They showed up not long after the rest of you left. She was still on the phone with her father. They searched the house,” she said. “And Sera’s car. They had a warrant. Those keys won’t do much good. They impounded her car.”

  I had many questions about the arrest, but not at the expense of a delay. Having overslept, I was unwilling to waste any more time. I grabbed Brian’s keys from the counter but decided not to spare the extra minute it would to take to ask permission, instead hurrying to the car. As usual, Simon climbed in back and curled up neatly on the seat. Once we were driving south, I caught his eye in the rearview mirror. He was yawning and looked altogether too comfortable, considering the situation. “So, what the hell happened?”

  He fixed green eyes on me, his lethargy and seeming disinterest immediately vanishing. “There was another body.”

  “Where? We were at the site all night. And one of them was there!”

  “It would appear our two-man theory is correct, then, because the second one was here.”

  “What do you mean, ‘here’?”

  I pulled around a slow pickup truck, punching the accelerator the moment clear highway lay before us and narrowly avoiding a car in the opposing lane. Vivian braced one hand against the dashboard but refrained from commenting on my driving. “Apparently, Richard Hill is no longer missing. Unfortunately, he was found dead, and in Sera’s car.”

  “What?” I had to admit that I wasn’t a particularly intelligent-sounding member of this conversation, but none of the answers were what I expected to hear.

  “The cops received an anonymous tip, and combined with the rest of the circumstantial evidence, it was enough for a warrant. They found Sera’s ex-boyfriend in a plastic bag placed amid all the soil in Sera’s trunk.”

  “And he was killed by…?”

  “Earth, of course,” said Simon. “And I would bet three of my whiskers that it’s the same brand of soil they found.”

  “Only three?” I asked.

  “I’m rather attached to them,” he shrugged. “My point being that someone planned this carefully, and it doesn’t look good for Sera. She now has a personal connection to the victims, access to the murder weapon, and a body found in a most inconvenient location.”

  “When was the body planted?” We had filled Sera’s trunk with the leftover soil from the house and planned to dump it, but always found ourselves unwilling to remove Vivian’s best line of defense entirely. It had been weeks since anyone had looked in the trunk.

  Vivian shook her head and looked ill. “They don’t know. I saw the body, when they unzipped the bag, and it hadn’t decomposed too much. Maybe in the last day or two?”

  I shot around another car, driving dangerously fast in the still falling snow. Simon was right. This didn’t look good at all.

  Between the choice of victims and Sera’s current situation, there was no doubt that the two of us were pieces in someone’s twisted puzzle, one we still had no idea how to solve.

  The only clue was the bastard’s cryptic words about a father I never knew, if that was even what he meant, and I hesitated to place any value in a question clearly intended to taunt me. Frustration and despair welled within me. Sera and I were becoming this man’s living victims, and that was not a role that fit either of us well.

  Wanting an escape from thoughts that spun in circles and refused to offer a sliver of hope, I turned on Brian’s stereo. Considerably more modern than Sera’s ancient tape deck, it still bore her influence. She’d clearly ridden in his car recently, because The Clash was cued up. For once, I didn’t try to change it, and we drove the rest of the way to the station with “I Fought the Law, and the Law Won” blaring through the speakers.

  Sera had been right. She really didn’t look good in orange. In fact, with her black hair and eyes, she looked like nothing so much as a walking Halloween decoration. However, considering she was sitting on the other side of a glass pane, I decided this wasn’t the most tactful time to point that out.

  Phones in hand, we looked at each other for several long moments. Fatigue and despair were etched clearly on her face. I’d never seen Sera without a glint of humor lurking in her eyes, and if I hadn’t already despised the men we were chasing, the face staring back at me would have been reason enough. She looked fractured.

  “So, taken up smoking yet?” I asked, determined to remove that look from her face.

  “It does help pass the time.” She snorted, lightly. “Dude, this is California. No one can smoke indoors in this state. It’s probably a good thing, too. It wouldn’t do much for my cover if I kept trying to put out everyone’s cigarettes.”

  “Can I do anything?”

  She shook her head. “My dad sent some shark lawyer this morning. He’s
a smarmy asshole, and I’m fairly certain I despise everything he stands for, but he’s working on getting me out on some technicalities, so he’s my new best friend. Bail doesn’t look good. I live in too many different states, and the crime’s too serious. He thinks they’ll see me as a flight risk.”

  “You know we’ll do whatever we have to do to get you out.”

  She quirked one eyebrow at me, a touch of humor finally reaching her eyes. When Sera decided it was time to leave this jail, nothing would keep her here. The only question was how much collateral damage would be involved. “Let’s go through the system first, shall we?” she suggested.

  “So, how’s the interrogation gone?”

  “They seem to think they’re dealing with someone who hasn’t seen every episode of Law & Order. I just keep my mouth shut and give them my best inscrutable expression.” She demonstrated the expression.

  I laughed, exactly as she intended, and was reluctant to broach the next subject. “He was there last night, you know. At the campsite.”

  Her head snapped up, her features suffused with life as anger lit her up from within. In a voice made of stone and fire, she said, “Tell me.”

  I filled her in on the previous night’s events, keeping it vague and using code whenever necessary. I didn’t care that they couldn’t use our conversation to build the case against her; there were still too many guards nearby, witnesses who should never know what walked this planet alongside them. Sera listened intently, and when I finished she battered me with questions, building a clear picture in her mind.

  “Something isn’t right,” she decided.

  “It would be harder to find what is right at the moment.”

  “It’s all so convenient. And why is he so determined to interact with you, but he only wants me out of the way?”

  “Because you’re the bigger threat?”

  “Maybe.” She looked dubious. “He did the same thing ten years ago, remember. And that soil was in my car. Both of our exes might be dying, but you and I are being targeted in very different ways.”

  “So why am I the lucky one who gets to talk to him?”

  She shook her head. “No idea. It’s not like you’re the hot one.”

  I smiled, never so relieved to be insulted. This was the Sera I knew, the indomitable spirit with thoroughly healthy self-esteem. “No pun intended.”

  She laughed. “I mean, I suppose you have your charm, if someone likes the skinny no-ass look. But do you think that’s the appeal for him?”

  “Well, he hasn’t asked me out yet. I don’t even know his astrological sign.”

  “No, he just keeps teasing you with information. You think that’s his version of flirting?”

  “Whatever he thinks he knows, he thinks it’s good news. He says it will make me happy.”

  “Sadly, I don’t think we can count on good news. It seems more likely that his definition of happy isn’t the same as ours.” Once more, she looked somber, the ease of a few moments ago already passing.

  “Well, there’s always that.” The guards appeared to be growing restless. I didn’t know how much longer we had. “We’re going to have to play his game, aren’t we? It’s all we have left.”

  She grimaced. “I don’t like this. If we play his game, then he gets to make the rules.”

  “I know, but I don’t know what else to do. I’ll start by answering his question.” Unfortunately, a fiery prison breakout seemed more reasonable than what I was about to suggest. “I guess it’s time to find out who’s my daddy.”

  When I left the station, the weather was shifting once again. The sun was crawling out from behind the clouds, causing the pure white snow drifts to gleam in its light. The world was bright and silent. Any other time, it would have been peaceful. At the moment, it felt like a mockery of my inner turmoil. I knew I had to follow the only clue our tormentor was providing. I just wished my mother didn’t wait at the end of that path.

  Simon and Vivian waited in the car, the engine on. It might have been warmer in the station, but considerably less private. “So, pancakes?” I asked. I might have things to do, but I’d be useless without some food in my stomach. It’s also possible I was procrastinating. A tap on the passenger window stopped Vivian from driving away. Carmichael stood outside, shivering despite his wool coat and scarf. As much as I wanted to demand Vivian stomp on the accelerator and get us the hell out of there, I took pity on him and rolled down the window.

  “Ms. Brook. Do you have a few minutes?” Without waiting for an answer, he told the other two, “I’ll see that she gets home.”

  It appeared that I had little choice in the matter. Vivian gave me an apologetic look as I climbed out of the car, but she still drove away, leaving me alone with the agent.

  “This way, please.” He led me to a black sedan and held open the passenger door for me. Seeing no other option, I climbed in.

  I wanted to play it cool and give nothing away. I said nothing while he pulled out of the driveway, wheels crunching on the new snow. I even tried to practice Sera’s inscrutable look. Unfortunately, he was equally silent, and the quiet proved too much for my control. “You said you thought we didn’t do this. What changed?”

  “Other than a new body and a trunk stuffed with the murder weapon?”

  “Please. Like that’s evidence.” He snorted and didn’t bother to respond. “And seriously, an anonymous tip? You don’t think that’s a little suspicious?”

  “I find this entire case inexplicable. An anonymous phone call is the least of it.”

  “She’s innocent, you know.”

  “The problem I’m having is I’m not sure what I know anymore. Would you care to fill me in?”

  I gave him the look I’d been practicing. He appeared unimpressed. “What do you want?”

  “What I’ve always wanted, Ms. Brook. Answers.”

  As that was the one thing I couldn’t give him, I actually managed to keep my mouth shut for the remainder of the drive.

  Close to our destination, I guessed where he was taking me, but I still tensed as the car pulled into the camping grounds where Jeff Brown had been found, only the day before. Yellow police tape wrapped around the trees, sectioning off the site. A handful of officers remained in the area, combing the woods in search of any additional evidence. Fortunately, they were staying close to the ground and were unlikely to find any proof that a cat had recently removed a camera from the nearby trees.

  Carmichael had a quick word with the officer in charge, and the cops slowly melted further into the woods.

  I spotted Stephen Grant several feet away and headed to him while Carmichael cleared the area. “Officer Grant,” I said.

  “Aidan! What are you doing here?”

  “Not sure. Carmichael seems to think I’ll be able to tell him something.”

  We shared a long look, considering all the things I wouldn’t be able to tell. “Sometimes,” he said, “I think it would be a lot easier if there weren’t so many damn secrets.”

  “You can stitch that on a pillow,” I muttered.

  Our conversation was brought to an abrupt halt when Carmichael summoned me over. On the ground near him, a chalk mark indicated where the latest body had been found. “Why are you showing me this?” I asked quietly.

  “I told you. I want answers.”

  Without any warning, Carmichael dropped one photograph after another into the outline of the body. They were all photos of Jeff. Close-ups of his terrified face, full length photos of his naked, wasted body, images of his lungs, cut open with dirt spilling from them. The fact that they were photos rather than an actual body provided no sense of distance, and my shock was not diminished in the slightest. I felt the breath leave my body as I realized Christopher had died in the same terrible way. It was one thing to know he’d died horribly, and another to see it laid at my feet in gruesome detail.

  I wasn’t viewing the peaceful shell of someone who’d died in their sleep, the harmless husk that remains whe
n the spirit leaves the body. This was a tangible, permanent reminder of Jeff’s horror. The terror he felt in his final moments was stamped on his entire body. His torso was twisted, legs crooked at an unnatural angle. One hand reached for his mouth, and the other clutched a fistful of dirt he must have pulled from his mouth in a desperate attempt to find air. His face was frozen, mouth stretched wide open. A permanent rictus of fear was drawn upon his features, which were blue from lack of oxygen. There had been no peace in his death. This man had struggled until the very end.

  It was a horrifying reminder of the cruelty the killer was capable of inflicting and of how fragile we were in the face of that evil. It didn’t matter how much this poor man had fought; he could never have escaped. “Take them away, please.”

  Carmichael did, and it was only when he turned away that I realized he’d been watching me the entire time, cataloging my reaction to the photos. “Do you recognize him?”

  I didn’t need to look again. His face was seared onto my brain, an image I’d be able to instantly recall for years. He hadn’t looked familiar, but I mentally changed his grimace into a smile, suffused his face with blood, and pictured his eyes open and bright blue in front of the Playstation that had seen many of his waking moments. “Sera dated him for a bit,” I said dully, seeing no reason to lie.

  “There’s too much evidence against her. This body and the soil… you see how it looks. This is going to trial, and she will almost certainly be convicted.”

  I shook my head, refusing to believe his words. “She didn’t do it.” I didn’t know what else to say. It was the one truth of which I was absolutely certain, and I could only keep repeating it.

  Carmichael stared at me, registering my shock. “Is that all you have to say?” With no warning, he held up a photo, a close-up of Jeff’s screaming mouth stuffed with soil. “Look at him. Look. Somebody held this man down to stuff soil into his lungs, but the body doesn’t have a bruise on it. The position of the body clearly indicates a struggle, but there is no torn fabric, no skin under the nails. There is absolutely no indication that anyone else was involved.”