by Kim Amos
“This lady has already cooperated with us by telling us her name,” Collins said, “and I suggest you do the same.”
“Hunter Haglund,” he said, never taking his eyes off Audrey. There was so much hate and anger there, Audrey shivered. But she wouldn’t back away from him.
“How did Ms. Tanner come to be here, Hunter? Did she drive? Because I don’t see a car out there.”
“She made me drive her here. She made me do it.”
The cop nodded, and jotted something down. Audrey hated the lies, hated Hunter’s brutal tone, but she stayed silent, and clutched Kieran’s hand for strength.
“And she made you pour that wine there, too? Two glasses’ worth?”
“She poured it,” Hunter said. “She poured it for me.”
“My fingerprints and DNA aren’t on either of those glasses,” Audrey said calmly.
“Fuck you,” Hunter spat.
“Enough with that language, Hunter,” Collins said. “We’re going to have a civil conversation here. No more swearing.”
“Fuck you,” he repeated defiantly.
Collins took a breath. “Okay, Hunter. Let me ask you this: This man here”—he motioned at Kieran—“was looking for Ms. Tanner tonight and says he found her running on the dirt road out here. See how her dress is torn and her shoes are all muddy? How do you think she got that way?”
“She ran away after hitting me with the fireplace poker. End of story.”
“She says her purse and phone are missing. Any idea where those are?”
“No.”
“She also says she was drugged. Any chance you know about that?”
“She’s a psycho. Aren’t you listening? She hurt me. Not the other way around.”
“So if we had a look around, we wouldn’t find any rags with traces of chloroform on them, or anything belonging to Ms. Tanner here, like her purse, would we?”
Hunter hesitated. “No.”
“Good, so how about we poke around and you sit tight.”
“You need a warrant for that. Don’t think I haven’t seen all the cop shows.”
“We don’t need a warrant to search your car, Hunter. We’ve got probable cause for days, so Officer Reynolds is going to go out and take a look inside of it, and he’ll let you know what he finds.”
Hunter paled visibly. “You can’t do that.”
Collins stood to his full height. He towered over Hunter. “Trust me—we can and will.”
Hunter narrowed his eyes. “You don’t touch. My. Shit.”
“It’s too late for that, son.”
Hunter’s face contorted with rage. “Yeah, but it’s not too late for this,” he said, and slammed his fist into Collins’s face. The officer’s glasses went flying across the room, landing with a clatter on the hardwood floor.
Kieran pushed Audrey behind him instinctively. Reynolds leapt on top of Hunter to pin him to the floor, wrestling with plastic handcuffs at the same time. Hunter kicked and bucked with manic strength. Reynolds got an elbow to the eye and shouted with pain. Hunter jumped to his feet, sweating and swearing.
For a horrified moment, Audrey wondered if she was going to have to defend herself all over again. Adrenaline surged, readying her for the fight. She clenched her fists. She would punch him in the balls repeatedly if she had to.
But then Kieran waded in, his eyes burning with fury. He kicked out Hunter’s feet, and then pinned him to the ground by the neck. Hunter gave a strangled cry as Reynolds entered the fray again, cuffing Hunter’s hands behind his back.
Collins turned to Audrey, rubbing his jaw. “Werr ned you to cerm durn to the staton,” he said. “Gerve a statmurnt.”
Audrey nodded. “All right.”
Collins retrieved his glasses as Hunter was led out of the room, handcuffed. She felt no victory at the sight of the troubled teenager. A tight grief clutched at her chest. She wondered suddenly what had happened to Hunter to make him this way. What had gone wrong?
Her only comfort was Kieran, who wrapped his strong arms around her. His chest pulled in ragged breaths as he held her close. “Almost there,” he said. “Just one more stop and then we can get you home.”
Audrey nodded. “Let’s do this, then,” she said, drawing strength from Kieran’s spicy, warm smell, and the way he stared at her as if she were a thing he was worried would break.
No one had ever stared at her that way.
I’m stronger than you think, she wanted to tell him.
Instead, she placed her hand in his, and walked back into the darkness, ready for whatever was next.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Audrey sat on the edge of the exam table, hands folded in her lap. Underneath her, clean white paper crinkled. This could be a normal check-up, she thought. The only thing that would hint that it wasn’t was the way her dress was ripped in several places from running through the woods. And maybe the way her flats were coated with a thin layer of gravelly mud. And perhaps how pale she was—at least when she’d looked at herself in the mirror a few minutes ago.
She studied the poster of the human body on the exam room wall, at all the interconnected muscles and bones and organs, and wished Kieran could have come in with her. She wanted his strong shoulder pressed against hers as she chatted with her doctor. She had insisted on coming to the clinic after she’d given her statement at the police station. A quick Google search had revealed that chloroform leaves the body quickly, and she wanted to make sure she documented traces of the chemical in her system before it was all gone.
Thankfully, the town’s urgent care clinic had been able to take urine and blood samples immediately.
Audrey hoped she would never need to use them, but she’d made up her mind at least to get them after a pot-bellied lawyer in a well-made navy suit had showed up at the police station. Hunter’s lawyer, in fact. He was there even before Hunter’s parents. He’d waved a hand when Hunter started to defend himself, and silenced the teenager with one word: “Enough.”
After that, Hunter didn’t talk at all.
Audrey knew they would need these lab results if she pressed charges against Hunter. She was barely employed and didn’t know what kind of legal counsel she could even afford. Not that she wanted to sue anyone. She just wanted Hunter to get help. Even after what had happened, she prayed he’d get the right medication and counseling.
Even if he did, she knew that this night would still stay with her for a long time. If she was lucky, it would heal over with time, scarring thickly enough so it didn’t smart every time she glanced at it.
But she also knew that other parts of this night would remain, too—and those she wanted to keep close. The picture of Kieran racing down the road, hell-bent over his bike to save her; his massive torso stepping between her and Hunter when things got chaotic at the cabin; the leather of his motorcycle jacket creaking every time he reached out to touch her at the police station; the nostrils of his smooth, aquiline nose flaring at the more difficult questions they’d asked.
Did he force himself on you?
No.
Did he penetrate you in any way?
No.
Did he harm you physically?
Yes.
She’d heard the sharp intake of Kieran’s breath when she’d showed the officers the bruises on her arm, from where Hunter had grabbed her on the bridge.
She could put away this event, she knew, if she had Kieran’s strength mingling with her own, like smoke and fog twisting together on a damp night. She needed his contradictions, maddening as they could be. But only Kieran could be tender enough to care for her, and rough enough to fight for her. Only Kieran could whisper fragments of poetry to her and then shout at the police to go find her. She’d heard how he’d called officers to her home when she hadn’t shown up at the Asparagus Festival, and she was beyond grateful. She was going to be there, she’d told him.
Before it all went so terribly wrong.
She might be able to picture Hunter in her mind�
�s eye, but just as clearly she could see Kieran on his motorcycle on that dark road. Her breath came in razored gulps, ragged and uneven. He’d been the one person she’d needed to see, and he’d been there.
He would always be there.
She knew it now, of course. She’d fallen and he’d caught her—just not in the way she had expected.
Not that it mattered. He was right in front of her, hers for the taking, if she decided to reach out and accept what he offered: his heart, his love.
She’d be a fool not to.
And life was too short for foolishness like that.
There was a soft knock on the door and Audrey turned. The doctor entered, her steel-gray hair pulled into a neat knot at the base of her neck. Her tiny frame was cloaked in a white coat.
“We’ll send your tissue and urine samples to the lab,” she said, looking at notes on her clipboard. “It’ll be a few days before we have the results, but certainly less than a week. Everything else, health-wise, checks out. Your heart rate is still a little high, but that’s to be expected. You’ve had quite a shock. Best to go home and get some rest.”
“Right,” Audrey said, feeling like she might never be able to sleep again.
“Do you need something to settle your mind a bit?” the doctor asked gently. “I can give you a prescription for a sedative, if you think it would help.”
Audrey shook her head. The last thing she wanted to be was groggy and out of it. Sleep would find her eventually.
“No, thank you,” she replied.
“In that case, you’re all set. Your family is waiting for you.”
Audrey hopped off the table. “Family?” she asked, wondering if they thought Kieran was her husband. Or perhaps the Knots and Bolts crew had somehow gotten word of her predicament.
“Your sister, Casey. She’s in the reception area.”
Audrey’s abdomen constricted. How had Casey known to come? She wracked her brain, trying to remember if Casey was listed as the next of kin on any of her medical paperwork. But even so, there was no cause to call next of kin. She wasn’t dead, for crying out loud.
Still, relief flooded her. Casey was here.
No matter what had happened, her big sister was still by her side.
* * *
She thanked the doctor, then headed toward the waiting room. Pushing her way through the lobby’s door, she caught sight of Casey in one of the cheaply upholstered waiting-room chairs. She was ready for her sister to lecture her on safety and the importance of carrying Mace and how she could have avoided all this if she hadn’t agreed to meet Kieran—but what she saw instead stopped her in her tracks.
Casey was crying.
No, not just crying.
Casey was sobbing—huge, shoulder-heaving howls that echoed in the otherwise empty room. But it wasn’t just the tears that anchored Audrey to her spot on the waiting-room carpet. It was the fact that she was bawling on Kieran’s shoulder. And he was patting her sympathetically, like you would a friend.
Except these two were not friends.
“What is going on?” Audrey asked, stepping forward cautiously. Casey’s head shot up and her mascara-streaked face went slack with relief.
“Audrey,” she said, standing. She was wobbly on her feet, and Kieran stood, too. “Oh my God, I’m so glad you’re okay. I heard what happened and I—”
“How?” Audrey asked.
Casey’s mouth pursed in confusion. “How what?”
“How did you hear what happened? How did you know I was here?”
Casey jerked her head in Kieran’s direction. “He told me. He called me.”
Audrey’s confused eyes found Kieran’s steady ones. He nodded. “I figured she should know.”
Audrey’s already overwhelmed brain struggled to make sense of this. “But after what happened,” Audrey started, “why would you—”
“We make mistakes,” Kieran said, waving a hand. “All of us. But family is still family. She needed to know, Audrey. She’s your sister.”
Audrey wanted to argue further, but she didn’t know what to say. Deep down, her arms ached to hold her sister, for them to cling to one another like they had when they were kids.
“I—I’m fine,” Audrey said after a moment. “I was taken…there was a fireplace…I just had some tests.…”
She was scrambling her words, struggling to communicate what had happened, and to say that she was all right. Only none of it was coming out correctly. It was as if she’d swallowed all the pills the doctor had offered to prescribe.
Before she could process what was happening, she felt her sister’s arms around her—bony, even through the fabric of Casey’s light jacket.
Her heart surged with relief. Things weren’t perfect between the two of them, but they were going to be all right.
Casey tightened her grip. “I couldn’t believe it when Kieran called. He said you’d been kidnapped and the police had gotten involved. For heaven’s sake! When he told me you were at the urgent care clinic, I panicked. I got here and he told me the whole story but it didn’t help me feel any better. I thought you might not live. I worried you’d died, Audrey.”
“No,” Audrey said as the two of them separated, “obviously it was nothing so dramatic as tha—”
“But you could have died,” her sister insisted, “and I would be the horrible person who let you pass away without telling you what a jerk I’ve been. I’ve been thinking about you constantly since the diner, but I was too afraid to call you and say anything. And then to find out someone had taken you. I could only ask myself what I’d do if I never saw you again.”
Audrey was filled with pity at how disheveled, at how broken, her sister looked.
Casey’s hand fluttered to her throat. “And when I thought about the answer to that question, I knew I would have lived the rest of my life with deep regret that I hadn’t been a better sister. I would have rued the day I didn’t tell you I was so, so sorry for interfering in your life. I would have carried remorse with me like a prisoner’s shackles, wishing I could go back and let you love whomever you wanted to love.”
Audrey struggled to digest what she was hearing. She had never heard her sister say she was wrong about anything—ever. She looked at Kieran, whose keen eyes were already on her.
“People aren’t always lucky enough to get second chances,” he said gently. “But I knew your sister was looking for a way to make some of this right.”
“How could you know that?”
“Her other tell,” he said simply.
“Which is?”
“She frowns the same way you do when you’re not sure about something. She was doing it when we left the diner. It’s this little off-to-the-side movement.”
“I do not do that,” Audrey said, fingers touching her mouth self-consciously.
“Yes, you do.”
“While I appreciate the two of you talking about me like I’m not here,” Casey interjected, “Kieran’s right. About me being unsure, anyway. I just wanted to help you, Audrey, and I was doing it the same way I always had, even though we weren’t kids anymore. I guess part of me wanted to know you still needed me. I know I went too far. With Kieran, with that principal, Kyle Williams. I don’t know if you can believe me, but deep down I really did want the best for you.”
The deep lines of worry and sorrow on her sister’s already creased face were heartbreaking. Harrowed was the word that came to Audrey’s mind.
“I apologized to Kieran, too,” Casey said, glancing upward to Kieran’s chiseled face.
“But I told her she didn’t have to,” Kieran added. “The debt we hold is to you, Audrey. We hurt you, not each other.”
In the middle of the medicinal-smelling room, Audrey searched for the right words to say next. It didn’t feel right that she held any debt at all. She didn’t want whatever they felt they owed her. She just wanted to move forward.
But how was that supposed to happen? Should she just trust her sister, the same way
she’d decided once again to trust Kieran?
And then she remembered the Knots and Bolts offer from Betty.
“Things need to be different between us,” she said to Casey, “but I don’t think anything will change if we do the same things over and over. Quick lunches, brisk phone calls. So starting next week, we’re doing something totally out of the ordinary.”
Doubt flickered in Casey’s eyes. “Which is?”
“You’re coming to a recipe exchange with me. I know I’ve told you about it before. It’s at the fabric store in town, Knots and Bolts. Go in through the back. There’s a room there, and that’s where we meet. It will be me and four of my closest friends on Thursday evenings.”
Casey’s face shadowed with doubt. “You’re inviting me to hang out with your friends?”
“Yes.”
“Why? Won’t that just make me odd man out in your clique?”
“It’s not like that,” Audrey insisted. “These are good people. And they know how to model good friendships. And right now, Casey, you and I need to figure out how to be friends.”
Casey looked like she was going to argue further, but managed to stop herself. “Of course,” she said. “I’ll be there.” Then, after a moment, another question: “If it’s a recipe exchange, what should I make?”
Audrey smiled slightly. “I thought it would be obvious.”
“You’d better tell me. I’m new to these kinds of things.”
Audrey was grinning fully now. “Humble pie, of course.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Audrey’s hands shook so hard she couldn’t get the key into the lock at her front door. “Here, let me help,” Kieran offered, gently steadying her hand. When they were inside, he sensed that both of them were relieved to be away from the rose petals on the front walk, the tear shapes heavy with early-morning dew and disintegrating on the cement.
“Can I get you coffee?” Audrey asked, stepping through the neat front room—with its loveseat and secondhand coffee table—and into the kitchen. Kieran followed her, leaning on the counter as she grabbed a filter and a bag of grounds from the cabinet.
He watched her try so hard to be normal, acting like this was just any other day and he was stopping by for a chat. He could see the strain in her face, but knew better than to push her. He’d probably want to act like everything was fine, too, if he’d been through even half of what she had.