Bound to the Past (Starville Series Book 1)

by Lauryn Michaels

  “Pretty close―except that it was just one buffalo. A very mean one, though.” Brent chuckled, shaking his head. “Doc left some painkillers on the table for you. Take them if you need them.”

  “Okay.”

  “Is there anything else you need?”

  “No, thanks.” I need Sara! Jack wanted to scream.

  Brent sat uncomfortably beside him. “Iʼm sorry, man. For everything. If thereʼs anything I can do to help you, Iʼll be happy to do it.”

  “Thanks, but—”

  He shook his head to stop him. “Jack, I intend to testify for you regarding what happened at Carrieʼs hotel two nights ago. I was there with you when we entered her room; I was with you when we went out on the balcony, and I was with you when we found Carrieʼs body.”

  “But you werenʼt with me when she was killed,” he finished for him. “You werenʼt with me when I got to the hotel and looked for her everywhere.”

  “No. No, I wasnʼt. In fact, why donʼt you tell me exactly what happened?”

  Jack scoffed a cold laugh. “Why donʼt you ask your boss? I spent at least three hours repeating everything over and over to him.”

  He sighed. “Iʼm ashamed of what Max did, but I promise it will never happen again. Iʼm pressing charges against him, and Iʼll do everything I can to get him off your case.”

  “Well, I did provoke him.”

  “I donʼt care. He was out of line and has to pay for it.” He hesitated before continuing. “Layla came by my office this morning. She wanted to talk to you, but I told her you couldnʼt see anyone yet.”

  Jack turned to him with a frown. “Layla wanted to see me? Why?”

  “She wanted to apologize for what her father did to you. She asked me to tell you that sheʼs ashamed of him and completely disassociates from his behavior.”

  “Wow. That was nice of her.”

  “Sheʼs a good friend.” Brent took a deep breath. “Look, Jack, I know that ten years ago you felt abandoned by all of us, and Iʼm sorry. But I hope you know that itʼs not going to happen again. Youʼre not alone this time. We wonʼt let you be.”

  Jack blinked in surprise. Something indecipherable flashed in his eyes—something Brent couldnʼt quite put his finger on, as his face stayed carefully neutral―but his entire body had tensed at his words. For a moment, he wondered if heʼd pushed too far, but then a light smile started tugging at the corner of Jack’s mouth.

  “Well, hell. Thanks.”

  Brent swatted his words away with a hand. “Now, tell me what happened. Everything, as if youʼd never told anybody before. And just so you know, Iʼm asking as the friend, not the cop.”

  Jack nodded. When he finished talking, they both sat quietly for several minutes, the ticking of the clock on the wall the only sound in the cell. Brentʼs heavy sigh broke the silence. “I still canʼt believe sheʼs gone.”

  “What time did she die?”

  “Weʼll have to wait for the results of the autopsy to know for sure.”

  Jack swallowed thickly. “Iʼm in deep shit, arenʼt I?”

  “Yes.”

  “I didnʼt do it, Hayden. Whether you believe it or not.”

  “And I trust you, whether you believe it or not. Donʼt ask me why, but I do.”

  Jack scanned his face, and Brent returned his quiet scrutiny. Had he not started to know him so well, heʼd have thought that the twinkle of emotion that flashed in his eyes was just a figment of his imagination.

  “I need a lawyer,” Jack finally said in a whisper, rubbing his face with both hands. “And Iʼm not talking about that scrawny little mouse who showed up this morning.”

  “I know. But donʼt worry, Sara took care of it already.”

  His head snapped up. “Sara?”

  “Yeah. She spent the whole day in Dallas yesterday looking for a lawyer willing to represent you. When she couldnʼt find any, she decided to call the VP of your company in Chicago and found out that you have your own personal lawyer there. Apparently youʼre a big shot,” Brent joked with a chuckle.

  Jack barely heard him. His heart was pounding so hard it echoed in his ears. His entire body went stiff. Sara. Sara had spent an entire day looking for a lawyer for him. “Did you talk to her? Howʼs she doing?”

  “Sheʼs shaken up, of course. She would like to see you as soon as youʼre allowed to receive visitors.”

  Fuck, no. Hell would freeze over before heʼd let Sara see him like this!

  A sudden metallic click announced the opening of the cell door, then Nicky appeared on the threshold, an uncertain look on her face. “Sorry to interrupt. How are you feeling, Jack?”

  He looked back at her just as uncomfortably. “Better, thank you.”

  “Good.” Nicky turned to Brent. “Judge Hatkins is on the phone, he wants to discuss…what happened with Lacrod.”

  He mumbled a curse and rose to his feet “Gotta go. Iʼll see you later, Jack.”

  Jack nodded. As the door closed behind them, he stood and looked around the small cell, studying what was going to be his home for God knew how long. He sighed at the depressing thought and continued his inspection. Shook his head with disgust as his gaze fell upon the pills resting on the small table. He was done with that crap. He needed to stay focused. He reached out a hand to grab them, his mind set on flushing the damn things down the toilet―but he stopped in mid-motion as a thought slammed into him with a force that knocked his breath out of his chest. The pills!

  He had only taken them twice since Doc had given them to him. Both times his mind had blacked out to the point he had no recollection of his actions…and both times someone had died. Been murdered.

  Jack staggered backward and fell heavily onto the cot. “Oh, God…” He buried his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees.

  What had he done?

  ***

  Sara dully crossed the living room to answer the door. She took a startled step back when a tall, dark-haired man in his fifties appeared at the door. His eyes were black as a starless night as they studied her with attentive curiosity.

  “Hello. Iʼm looking for Sara Milano.”

  “Thatʼs me. And you are?”

  The man finally hinted at a smile. “Frank Devereaux―Jack Turnerʼs lawyer. Iʼm…” His words trailed off as Sara flew into his arms. “Well, nice to meet you, too,” he joked with a chuckle.

  Embarrassed, she pulled away and stepped to the side to let him inside the house. “Iʼm sorry. Iʼm just so happy to see you! Please, come in. Can I offer you something to drink? A coffee, perhaps?”

  “No, thank you,” he declined, sitting on the couch and placing his briefcase on the coffee table in front of him. “Iʼm sorry for showing up like this. Raymond told me to call you first, but I was already at the airport back from a business trip, so I decided to take the first available flight and come here immediately instead.”

  Sara nodded. “Iʼm glad you did, Mr. Devereaux.”

  “Please, call me Frank; weʼll have to deal with so much crap in the next few weeks that I wonʼt be able to tolerate all this formality between us.”

  His reassuring smile made her feel a little more at ease. “I canʼt begin to tell you how much I appreciate your rushing here.”

  Frankʼs expression darkened. “I came as soon as Ray called me. Jack is like a son to me, Sara. Ever since J.T. died, we―”

  Her mouth fell open. “You knew J.T.?”

  “Why, yes,” he said, amused by her surprise. “He was a good friend of my parents. Even after I moved to Chicago, I always visited him on my trips to Starville.”

  “And you met Jack during one of those visits?” Sara guessed, fascinated and shocked at the same time.

  “I met him shortly after he moved to the ranch. He was just a little kid at the time. A little bully, angry with the entire world.” Frankʼs lips curved up fondly at the memory. “To tell you the truth, I detested him at first. I thought J.T. was crazy for wanting to take on the responsibility of raising that little thug. But J
.T. adored him. When I asked him why he wanted to take care of him, he simply answered that it was the right thing to do.” He shook his head. “Good olʼ J.T.; man of few words, but always the right ones. Just like Jack.”

  A smile tugged at Saraʼs lips. “When did you and Jack get closer?”

  “Not for a long time, Iʼm afraid.” His eyes darkened. “When the law firm where I worked in Chicago offered me a partnership, my trips to Starville became more and more infrequent. I lost touch with Jack after J.T. died. And honestly, I didnʼt care.”

  Sara swallowed hard. “Did you believe he killed J.T.?”

  “No.” Frank gave her a long, intense stare. “I saw Jack with J.T., Sara. I saw the special bond they had and how ridiculously alike they were, inside and out. I might not have liked Jack much back then, but there was no doubt that the years the two of them spent together were the best of their lives. Iʼd never seen J.T. so happy before…and Jack hasnʼt had a single happy day since he died, either,” he added sadly. “He didnʼt kill him, Sara. Jack would have killed himself before hurting his father.”

  Saraʼs eyes filled with tears again, and she didnʼt even bother to conceal them as she hugged him tightly. “Thank you.”

  Frank hugged her back, then cleared his throat. Sensing his embarrassment, she wiped her eyes and pulled away. “Were you aware that Jack intended to come back to Starville?”

  He shook his head. “Weʼve all been so busy with work lately. I hardly even knew Carrie Ward—I mean, Iʼd seen her with Jack here and there, but I didnʼt know how close they were, nor that they were working on that file together. I had no idea Jack was still trying to investigate J.T.ʼs death after all this time,” he admitted. “I shouldʼve known, though. Starville has always been an open wound for Jack. He was obsessed with it, couldnʼt stop thinking about what had happened. He couldnʼt get rid of his past.”

  A cold shiver passed through Sara at the realization that Frank had just used the exact same words as Carrie had the first time they met…sitting in the same spot on the couch. She swallowed hard. “Jack has lost his memory, Frank. His very past has abandoned him now.”

  He nodded. “Ray told me. Sadly, Iʼm afraid that a lot of questions will remain unanswered as long as his memoryʼs gone.”

  “Thatʼs what Jack says, too,” Sara said with a sigh. “We need your help.”

  To her surprise, Frank took her hand and held it in his. “This is why Iʼm here. Now, take a deep breath and tell me everything you know about what happened.”

  Chapter 26

  “Brent, thereʼs a man in the lobby whoʼs asking to see the sheriff. What am I supposed to do?”

  Jessicaʼs anxious voice made Brent raise his head from the papers he was reading to give her a disapproving look. “Just walk him to my office. Thank you.”

  She nodded and left with a sigh of relief. Less than a minute later, a tall, dark-haired man appeared in the doorframe, and Brent motioned him to walk in and take a seat.

  “Well, well, I havenʼt seen Max Lacrod in a few years, but you definitely look younger and prettier than him,” the man joked, taking a seat.

  Brent couldnʼt help smiling at that. “The sheriff will be out of the office for a few weeks, and Iʼm covering for him. Iʼm Deputy Brent Hayden. How may I help you?” he asked, frowning at the surprised look that suddenly appeared on the manʼs face.

  “Brent Hayden? You’re Brent? Holy smokes, son! How much did you kids grow up in this town?”

  Something in his teasing tone rang a few bells in Brentʼs mind, and it was his turn to look at the man with incredulity. “Frank? Crap, you got old!”

  “Thanks.” The attorney shook his head with amusement. “So, you made it, huh? You became a police officer like you always talked about.”

  “Well, itʼs not like I had much competition in this hole of a town.” Brent extended his hand over the desk to shake the one the man was offering him. “Wow. Frank Devereaux. How long has it been? Eight years?”

  “Seven, I believe.”

  Brent shook his head. “When Sara told me she had been in touch with Jackʼs attorney in Chicago, some Frank Something, it didnʼt even cross my mind that it might be you.”

  “Some cop you are,” Frank chuckled but sobered almost instantly. “So, how are things looking for Jack?”

  “Pretty grim, Iʼm afraid. Actually, itʼs a disaster,” Brent admitted with a sigh as he stood up and walked to the coffee machine at the corner of the office.

  Frank shook his head. “All these years to get him under control, then he comes here for a few months and look what happens!”

  “Yeah, Texas tends to do that to people.” Brent forced a smile, pointing at the coffee cup he had just poured himself. “Would you like one, too?” he offered, but the attorney made a disgusted face.

  “No, thanks, I donʼt drink poison. Tell me, how bad are things on a scale from one to ten?”

  “Hmm. Eleven?” Brent took a sip of coffee and sat back at his desk. “For one, Jack was the only one in Starville who knew the victim, Caroline Ward, besides me and my partner—Deputy Nicky Sinclair—and Sara. Apparently, Jack and Carrie had been working on a file together, gathering information regarding J.T.ʼs murder, and he had an appointment with her to discuss it the very night that she was killed. Jack states that he arrived at the hotel late and received no answer when he knocked on her room door, but there are no witnesses who can confirm any of that. Not to mention that his fingerprints are scattered all around the victimʼs room.”

  Frank didnʼt comment. “Has the exact time of the murder been established?”

  “According to the preliminary findings of the autopsy I received from the coronerʼs office, it was 11:48 p.m. The victimʼs watch also stopped exactly at that time―probably as a consequence of the fall,” Brent added flatly.

  “And how are we sure that she was killed and that it wasnʼt just a simple accident?”

  “According the medical examination, the victim was hit violently on the head before she was thrown out the window. The impact with the ground was the ultimate cause of death, but the blow she received was very hard, nonetheless.”

  “Do we know what object she was hit with?”

  Brent shrugged. “Most likely a gun butt.”

  “Does Jack own a gun?”

  “Yes, he does. Itʼs not registered, though―and, by his own admission, it was purchased illegally a few weeks ago.”

  “Shit.” Frank leaned against the back of the chair. “Look, Brent, Iʼm aware that you donʼt really know Jack well, but believe me, heʼs anything but a murderer. Had I not been absolutely certain of that, I would never have agreed to defend him ten years ago.”

  A weak smile twitched a corner of Brentʼs lips. “Actually, I’ve gotten to know Jack better since heʼs been back, and…the two of us got pretty close.”

  Sheer astonishment replaced the grim expression on Frankʼs face. “Well, I never—” He shook his head with a chuckle. “J.T. would be proud of you guys. He always wanted the two of you to be friends.”

  “Thatʼs what Dad says, too.”

  “Howʼs that old fox doing, by the way?”

  “Heʼs older. But foxier, too.”

  Frank laughed. “Donʼt doubt it. But speaking of old foxes, what the heck happened to Lacrod?”

  Brentʼs eyes turned to hard steel. “Thereʼs something I have to tell you.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “As Iʼm sure you know, Max detests Jack. I mean, he utterly hates him. Maybe itʼs because of J.T.ʼs death, whatever; all I know is that he canʼt stand him. Iʼve always known, I guess…yet I didnʼt realize just how much until he beat him up the day of his arrest.”

  “What the—” Frank jumped to his feet and started pacing. “Is Jack all right?”

  “Yes and no. Max hit him on the head, which definitely didnʼt help his previous injury. He also has a pretty purplish cheekbone,” he listed with a rueful smile. “I pressed charges against the sheriff. He was only suspended for a fe
w weeks, but at least heʼs off Jackʼs case.”

  Frank gave him a long look. “Youʼre a good kid.”

  “My mom would disagree.” Embarrassed, Brent looked away and took another sip from his cup. “Would you like to see Jack now?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Frank followed him out of the office and through the series of long corridors, until they reached a massive metal door. Brent knocked on it, then slid a key inside the lock. “Turner? Someoneʼs here to see you.”

  Jack rose to his feet when the door opened and a tall man in a black suit walked into his cell. Damn, but for a brief, irrational moment, his heart had stopped at the thought that Sara might be there. Sucker. Swallowing hard, he tried to concentrate on the stranger; his dark eyes were scrutinizing him so intently that all his defenses immediately went up.

  “Jack, this is Frank Devereaux. Your attorney.” Brentʼs words made him return the older manʼs attentive examination with a stare of his own. Then he stretched his hand out.

  “Nice meeting you, Mr. Devereaux. I appreciate you taking time off from your job to help me. I know you came all the way from Chicago, and…” His words trailed off as he noticed the bewildered expression on the attorneyʼs face.

  “Son, I know you donʼt remember me right now, but— Hell, we spent enough nights getting drunk together for you to at least call me Frank!”

  Amusement flashed in Brentʼs eyes, and Jack glared at him before returning his attention to the attorney. “All right.”

  Frank nodded. “So, how are you doing?”

  “Iʼve been better. But the satisfaction of knowing that Lacrod is outta my face makes it all worth it.” Jack slanted a conspiratorial look at Brent, who grinned back at him.

  “What did he hit you with?”

  “His gun butt.”

  Frowning, Frank turned to Brent. “Does Max have an alibi for the night Carrie Ward was killed?”

  “He was at home with his daughter, Layla. They had pizza and watched a movie together until past midnight. At first, I thought Layla might be lying to protect her father,” Brent added, anticipating the attorneyʼs next question, “however, the guy who delivered the pizza confirmed that Max opened the door for him around eight thirty p.m., then again when he went back to deliver them some ice cream three hours later.”