Jackʼs icy gaze darted from Nicky to Brent. “If Iʼm under arrest, why donʼt you guys just tell me immediately and put an end to this ridiculous charade?”
“Youʼre not under arrest!” Brent took a deep breath. “Look, why donʼt we start this all over? I think weʼre all taking it the wrong way. We only need to ask you a few questions…before Lacrod decides he wants to conduct the interrogations himself.”
Sara shuddered at the thought. “Brentʼs right. Why donʼt we all relax a little? Iʼll go make some coffee, and then weʼll talk about this. As friends.”
“I think itʼs better that I make that coffee, Sara,” Nicky suggested, falling into step behind her. “The atmosphere in the living room is tense enough already, if you leave weʼre in trouble.”
“All right.” She turned to leave the kitchen, then stopped. “Jack is innocent, Nic. I know it. He would never hurt anybody.”
“If thatʼs true, weʼll prove it. And believe me, honey, nothing would make me happier.”
“Thank you.”
Back in the living room, Sara sat beside Jack. Brent gave them both a long look. “Will you answer my questions now, Jack?”
“Fine,” he nodded reluctantly. “Shoot.”
“First of all, I need to know what happened last night, after Sara left you to look for us,” Brent started.
Jack frowned, trying to remember. “I walked to the parking lot to wait for Sara, and Charlene followed me. She said she wanted to apologize for the way sheʼd reacted the other day.”
“What other day?”
“The day I picked up my bike from the sheriffʼs office,” he explained flatly. “After I left you, I rode around town and stopped at Hankʼs for a drink.”
“Is that when you got into a fight with Wayne?”
“Hey, he was the one who got into a fight with me. I didnʼt even touch him!”
“Sorry. Continue, please.”
“I met Charlene that same day. I wanted to talk to her because…well, I heard that we used to know each other in the past,” Jack said uncomfortably, and Sara placed a hand on his thigh in silent encouragement. “At first she seemed nervous but friendly. But then I asked her if she could help me remember anything about my past and about the night J.T. was killed, and she started freaking out. She turned whiter than a ghost and said she didnʼt know anything; she looked at me like some trapped prey.”
“Did you hit her?”
“Brent!” Sara jumped up in outrage, but Jack held her back, stroking her back to calm her down.
“No, Hayden. I did not hit her.”
“What about last night? Ronnie says you raised your hand at her.”
“Thatʼs a lie.” Jackʼs eyes narrowed. “I told you, Charlene came to apologize, and I told her not to worry about it. I tried to walk away, but she had, um, different ideas in mind.”
“What do you mean?”
He glanced at Sara, who was looking at him with surprise, and drew a deep breath. “Really, Brent, I donʼt think thatʼs important.”
“Jack―”
“All right!” he gave in, raising his arms. “Charlene threw herself into my arms, okay? She was jealous of Sara…and she said she wanted me back.”
A dead silence dropped into the room.
Jack turned toward a gaping Sara and took both her hands in his. “I did nothing to encourage her. It was all in her head, I swear.”
The tramp! Then she remembered that Charlene was dead. Remorse pierced her beyond shock and anger, and she blew a deep sigh. Staring into Jackʼs troubled eyes, she squeezed his hands with a faint smile. “Why didnʼt you tell me?”
“I didnʼt want to upset you for nothing. It meant nothing to me.”
Brent cleared his throat. “Continue, Jack. What happened after that?”
“I turned Charlene down, of course. I told her I wasnʼt interested in getting back together, and that unless she wanted to talk about the night J.T. was killed, we had nothing else to say. At that point she got all defensive again, saying she didnʼt know anything and couldnʼt help me. But I knew that she was lying. She was hiding something, Brent. But I didnʼt hurt her.”
“You hurt Ronnie, though,” Nicky interjected, entering the living room with a tray in her hands and placing it on the coffee table.
Jackʼs eyes flashed with rage. “He jumped on me and punched me in the gut. What was I supposed to do? I didnʼt even know who the hell he was! And I did not hurt him,” he specified, repeating Nickyʼs words, “I just…gave him a lesson.”
“He deserved it,” Sara burst out. “All he wanted was to push Jackʼs buttons!”
“Go on, Sara,” Brent encouraged her.
“When I got to the parking lot, the whole town seemed to be there,” she remembered with a grimace. “Ronnie was clearly looking for a fight, because when he saw me coming he said―” She stopped to glance at Jack and saw his fists tighten at the memory.
Nicky gave her a contrite look. “Iʼm sorry, hon, but we have to know what he said.”
She took another long breath. “He said something to the effect of: ‘Look at that, Turner, your little slut is here to save you.ʼ”
“Son of a―”
Nicky placed her hand on Brentʼs arm to stop him. “Is that why you attacked him, Jack?”
“Yes.” He squirmed uncomfortably on the couch. “I lost control, I guess. I bashed him against the wall, demanding his apologies. I know I shouldnʼt have done it, and Iʼm sorry. But Iʼd do it again if he talked to Sara that way, if thatʼs what you want to know,” he added, a defiant look in his eyes.
“Did he do it? Did he apologize?”
“Yes. I let him go and was about to leave, when―”
“When?”
Sara sighed. “Charlene yelled at Jack that he was the same old violent bastard and that she hoped heʼd rot in jail. At that point I lost control.”
“Is that when you told her it wasnʼt over, Jack?”
Brentʼs question jolted him back to reality, and he shoved a hand through his hair. “I donʼt know why I said it…I certainly didnʼt mean to hurt her! All I meant was that Iʼd talk to her again, because at that point I was certain she was hiding something. Believe me, I didnʼt mean―”
“Itʼs not just that, Jack. A few weeks ago, Charlene told Max that she visited you in jail once, during the trial.”
“So?”
“She said that you were mad. Furious, actually. According to Max, you swore that youʼd come back to Starville one day and take your revenge on her. On all of us…because you felt we betrayed you by not believing your innocence.”
Jack rubbed his face with both hands. “Shit.”
“Do you remember any of that?”
“No.” He slanted a look at Sara. His heart ached at the sight of her paleness.
“How do you know that Max is not lying?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper. “You know he hates Jack.”
Brent shook his head gravely. “He wouldnʼt lie about something like this, Sara. Heʼs devastated by Charleneʼs death. She and Layla have always been best friends, and she was like a daughter to him.”
Jack took a deep breath. “I didnʼt kill her, Brent. Tell me what to do and Iʼll do it.”
“Right now you just need to tell me what happened after you left the fair.”
“Sara and I came back home. She went upstairs. I went for a little walk because I was too nervous to go to bed,” he admitted, though he knew those words would be his biggest regret.
“Where did you go?”
“Around the neighborhood.”
“What time did you get back home?”
Jack felt Sara stiffen against him at Brentʼs urgent questions, and he knew exactly what she was thinking. When sheʼd found him asleep on the swing it’d been almost four a.m.; Charlene had been killed between two and three in the morning. He told her heʼd been there for a couple of hours, but he didnʼt have any proof of that. The lake was only a few minutes away from her house; he couldʼve had time to me
et Charlene there and kill her, undisturbed, before Sara even looked for him. A cold shiver ran down his spine. This time he was going to be shoved straight into the electric chair.
“What time did you get home, Jack?” Brent insisted.
He drew a ragged breath. “Around one thirty, maybe two a.m.—I donʼt know exactly.”
“Did anybody see you?”
Jack shook his head. “I just walked around a little to clear my mind, then I came back and lay down on the swing.”
“Thatʼs where I found him,” Sara chimed in, her voice shaky. “He was asleep.”
“Do you remember what time it was, Sara?”
Jack shut his eyes and sucked in his breath. This is it. His heart was pounding so furiously in his ears that he almost didnʼt hear Saraʼs answer.
“It was barely two a.m.,” she stated firmly.
Brent scanned her face, as if to read her mind, but she held his intense gaze.
Jack gaped at her in shock. She was giving him an alibi! She was lying to the police, her best friends, to save his butt! “Donʼt, sweetheart.”
Sara looked straight into his eyes. “Don’t try to protect me, Jack. I want to tell the truth.” Donʼt be stupid! Let me help you, she screamed on the inside.
“I canʼt let you do this.” This is not the truth, and you know it!
“Sara?” Brent urged. “Was Jack at home at two a.m.?”
“Yes, he was.” She desperately squeezed Jackʼs hand as she took a deep breath. “Jack didnʼt kill Charlene. He…was in bed with me. We spent the night together.”
Her words dropped like rocks.
Brent winced, his eyes wide. Nickyʼs jaw fell. Jack stilled, his body so rigid and tense that Sara feared heʼd stopped breathing.
“Fuck, Sara, I wonʼt let you―”
She cut him off with a frustrated huff. “Jack, stop it! Itʼs your life weʼre talking about. I donʼt care if everybody knows we slept together!” Please, please!
He stared at her for what felt like an eternity. Finally, he closed his eyes with a ragged breath. “Heaven help us,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers.
Sara wrapped her arms around him with a relieved smile. “Thank you.”
“So, is it true?” Nicky asked him, still stunned. “Were you guys, uh, together at the time of the murder?”
His eyes locked with Saraʼs as he answered. “Yes. We spent the night together.”
“Actually, we were still in bed when you guys came,” she specified with a nervous chuckle. At least that wasnʼt a lie.
Nicky nodded, suddenly realizing why Jack had been upstairs when theyʼd arrived at Saraʼs. Boy, but it felt surreal. Sara—the sweet, reliable, level-headed Sara…with a man like Jack Turner? No way! Yet the dreamy expression on her friendʼs face while she looked up at Jack said it all. Her friend was clearly head over heels for him. Nicky could only hope that Jack wouldnʼt hurt her too much.
“If thatʼs all, I guess weʼre done here,” she said to Brent, who was also still staring at Sara and Jack in a bewildered silence.
He hesitated before rising to his feet. “Iʼm gonna need you guys to come by the sheriffʼs office later and file a formal statement.”
“No problem,” Jack conceded.
“Iʼll talk to you later, Sara,” Brent said in a softer tone, bending over to kiss her cheek.
They all started walking to the door, but suddenly Nicky grabbed Saraʼs arm, holding her back. “Stop,” she whispered. “Iʼve got to know the truth.”
Her heart all but stopped. “What truth?”
“You know… Was it good?”
Relief almost choked her, and she burst out laughing. “Oh, Nic, it was awesome! Fantastic. Incredible. Mind-blowing.”
Nicky grinned. “My friend, I officially hate you.”
***
Standing at the door, Jack watched Nicky and Brent drive off. When he closed the door and turned toward Sara, she held his gaze for a few seconds before drawing a long sigh. “Just say it and get it over with already.”
“What do you want me to say, Sara? That Iʼm grateful? Of course, I am. That I think youʼre insane? I do. Do you realize―”
She raised a hand to stop him. “Save it. The answer is yes. Yes, I do realize I lied to the police and to my best friends; yes, I understand that I just got myself into deep trouble. And you know what? I couldnʼt care less! All I know is that youʼre here right now and not in jail.”
The hint of a smile twitched his mouth. “Iʼm very happy to hear that, love. But thatʼs not what I meant to say.”
Sara gave him a dazed look. Heck, she even forgot what they were talking about… Jack had called her love again! She swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep her feet on the ground as she took a step closer to him. “Then what?”
“What I meant to say was, do you realize I owe you my life? Again?” he joked, pulling her into his arms.
She smiled back at him, but it didnʼt reach her eyes. “Letʼs face it, Jack, Lacrod would have thrown you back in jail in a second, and this time he wouldʼve tossed away the keys. I couldnʼt let it happen.”
“Why not?” he asked, just as seriously. “What makes you so sure that I didnʼt kill Charlene? The lake is barely ten minutes away. I could have killed her with no problem, then come back home as if nothing had happened. I wouldʼve had enough time.”
Sara raised her head and looked him straight in the eye. “Did you, Jack? Did you kill Charlene?”
He jumped back as if sheʼd just slapped him. Jaw clenched, he stared at her in disbelief, then took a deep breath. “For Godʼs sake, no! I swear I had nothing to do with her death.”
“Good. I donʼt see the problem, then.”
All Jack could do was give her a blank stare. His head started spinning so fast he almost lost his balance. “How the hell can you ask me if I killed a person one second and smile at me like this the next?”
Sara shook her head. “I know youʼre innocent, Jack. Youʼre the one who needs convincing.”
He blinked against the uncomfortable, stinging sensation in his eyes. “Damn woman. You confuse the crap out of me.”
She bit her lower lip and slid her arms around his neck. “Sorry.”
“The hell you are.”
Chuckling, she rose up on her tiptoes to kiss him, but the dead-serious look on his face stopped her midway.
“Sara, I…”
She pushed back slightly to look at him. His eyes were so intense that her breath hitched. Her heart took a leap. No, he wasnʼt. He couldnʼt. Could he?
“Tell me, Jack,” she murmured, praying to hear the words she was dying to hear from him.
“I―” Swallowing hard, Jack stroked her cheek with his thumb and gave her a taut smile. Then he shook his head and leaned down to kiss her lips. “Nothing. Thank you again. For everything. Iʼm gonna take a shower before dinner.”
She nodded absently as he disappeared upstairs, her head still spinning. Had she just imagined everything, or had Jack really been about to tell her that he…?
Yeah, right!
Sara took a deep, calming breath. She needed to stop thinking like this or sheʼd drive herself crazy. Carson was right: One day at a time. That was going to be her motto.
With that resolve, she went to the kitchen in search of ideas for dinner. But her stomach was in knots as she opened the fridge. A sudden tear rolled down her cheek at the thought of Charlene.
And her heart sank at the knowledge that sheʼd lied about her murder.
Chapter 20
To a strangerʼs eyes, today Starville would have looked just the same as always; yet nothing was the same. Three days after Charleneʼs death, the town seemed almost frozen in time.
The flower shop at the corner of the street didnʼt have the usual colorful plants displayed in the window, and Mrs. Middleton, the owner, was sobbing behind the counter as she put together the flower compositions to be used for Charleneʼs funeral. The mechanic’s garage in front of the flower shop wa
s unusually quiet, and Ronnie was working on a car with a grim and lost look in his eyes.
Brent remembered the same tension, the same heaviness in the air after J.T.ʼs death, and he felt as if heʼd leaped back in time.
With a sigh, he pushed the dinerʼs door. Hank had lowered all the blinds and looked exhausted behind the counter. Lucy walked robotically through the tables, her eyes red and swollen. As soon as Brent walked through the door, everybody turned their heads toward him. He hadnʼt been there since the murder and, not knowing what to expect, he sat quietly at one of the tables.
Lucy walked to him right away. To his surprise, she gave him a sweet, motherly look. “Rough day?” she whispered, pouring coffee into his cup.
“As everyone elseʼs.” Brent nodded. “Iʼm sorry, Lucy, I know you and Charlene were close.”
She smiled through the tears. “That blessed girl drove me insane at times, but she was like a daughter to me and Hank.”
He nodded again, not sure what to say.
“Youʼre gonna catch him, arenʼt you?”
Raising his eyes from the cup in his hands, he gave her a serious look. “If youʼre talking about Charleneʼs murderer, my answer is yes. Weʼll catch him, I promise.”
“Charleneʼs murderer has a name, and itʼs Jack Turner,” an angry voice chimed in from the table behind his.
“If Jack is responsible, he will pay for it, Garrett,” Brent said flatly.
“Like he paid for J.T.ʼs murder? The bastard was out in less than three years!”
“Not this time, though,” a woman interjected. “We all saw him and heard him fight with Charlene at the fair! How long does it take to put two and two together?”
Brent stifled a curse. “Let the police do the math, Rose, okay? Weʼre investigating.”
“You and Charlene were friends for so many years,” Lucy commented between sobs.
“Yes, we were. And this is why I promise Iʼll do anything to find her killer. But I canʼt go around arresting people without any evidence. Do you understand?”
“Nothing has been the same since Turnerʼs return,” another man, Boyd, chimed in. “Just like when he came here the first time. Now Charleneʼs dead, and youʼre siding with him just because the son of a bitch is shacking up with your friend!”
Bound to the Past (Starville Series Book 1) Page 21