by Debra Webb
“Hello to you, too,” she mumbled. You bastard.
“Sarah,” Conner said, trying once more but failing to draw her attention. “You should come with me.”
“Not a chance.” Her gaze didn’t waver from the man now striding her way. “Bring it on, hotshot,” she added under her breath. She’d waited three years, six months, and eleven days for this moment. Nothing was going to get in her way.
Evidently deciding that he wanted no part in this, the chief opted to wait with his deputy. Just as well. This was between Sarah and Lex.
“Well, well,” Lex announced as he overtook her position. “If it isn’t the truth seeker.” He surveyed her up and down, blatantly displayed his abject disapproval. “How are you these days, Sarah? Still seeing that same shrink?”
“Fuck you, Lex,” she said rather than answer his questions. He laughed. Don’t let him bait you. She reined in her emotions. Stay in control.
“I’d hoped you had grown a sense of humor by now. I guess that isn’t the case.” He adjusted the striped tie that scrupulously matched his crisp navy suit. Not a dark hair out of place. Walking, talking perfection, total attention to every single detail.
Too bad he was all show and no tell.
Sarah made a sound that was nowhere near a laugh. “A sense of humor would be wasted on me,” she tossed back, “just like that puny set of balls is on you.”
Fury ignited in the jerk’s hazel eyes. “What do you want, Sarah? The chief doesn’t want you involved in this investigation anymore.” He glanced at Conner. “You should go along with your babysitter and play nice.” The fury cleared and arrogance took its place. “I’m sure you remember how to do that.”
That was when she lost her cool. She got in his face. Let him see the sheer hatred in her eyes. “I remember a lot of things, Lex. Some I’m sure you’d rather I not recall. Shall we play this that way?” She could take him all the way down. Seriously screw up his glorious reputation.
He chuckled, a dry, thoroughly un-amused sound. “You just can’t get beyond the past, can you, Sarah? You’re scared to death you’ll end up just like your mother.”
Sarah fisted her fingers. She wanted to slap his smug face more than she’d ever wanted anything in her life. But she wouldn’t give him that. An extreme reactions was what he wanted. Something else to release to the paparazzi, to draw attention to her flaws. “I’m here about the case. My mother has nothing to do with this.”
“Ah, but she does.” Lex stared at her mouth, made her want to puke, before meeting her eyes once more. “Your whole life is about the past. Hasn’t your shrink told you that over and over again?”
“What’s your problem?” Conner stepped into the mix.
Sarah blinked, glanced at the man who was suddenly at her side looking ready to tear into Lex. Great. She was sick to death of Conner’s insatiable need to take care of her. She could damned well take care of herself. She didn’t need him or anyone else to do the job.
“Back off, Conner.”
“I see you’re up to your old tricks,” Lex said with a pointed glance at Conner. “There are other ways of gleaning information, Sarah. You don’t always have to do it on your back.”
Conner had him by the lapels before Sarah could react. “What the hell does that mean, asshole?”
“I said back off, Conner.” This was expressly why she had made it a rule never to get involved with anyone related to a case. There was always a price to pay.
“Kale!” Chief Willard rushed in their direction. “Let go of Agent August, Kale.” The out-of-shape chief of police huffed and puffed in an effort to catch his breath. “I don’t think the two of you have been introduced.”
Conner gave Lex a little push as he released him. “I don’t need a formal introduction to know an asshole when I meet one.”
Sarah wanted everyone to back the hell off so she and Lex could finish this. “Chief,” she said as calmly as possible, “we’re having a private conversation here.”
“From where I was standing,” Willard shot back, “it didn’t exactly sound private.”
“Why don’t we tell them what the real problem is?” Lex suggested.
“That would be nice,” Conner growled, leaning in even closer to the guy.
What the hell? Sarah glowered from one man to the other. This was her battle.
“Sarah, you should explain to these gentlemen the motive behind your obsession with cases like this.” The bastard’s eyes dared her to ignore his challenge. “Perhaps then they would better understand your tactics.”
All attention was on her then.
“My only motive is finding the truth.” It infuriated Sarah all the more that a good deal of the ferocity had gone out of her tone. This son of a bitch knew too much about her. He was twisting the situation to suit his needs. His intent was as transparent as glass. He wanted to make her look like a fool. And it would work. She knew all too well.
“Her mother murdered her father,” Lex announced, “and seven of his mistresses over a ten-year period. Each time, little Sarah hid in the closet or under the stairs waiting for Mommy to finish up and find her.”
Sarah rammed her fist into his gut. Couldn’t help herself. Lex bent forward. Gagged and coughed. The chief stepped between them. Conner manacled her arm, restraining her from doing further physical harm.
When Lex had recaptured his breath, he glared at her with no mercy. The gloves were off now, he was going for the jugular. “All those years,” he taunted, “all those lies. That’s what makes the truth so important to you, isn’t it, Sarah? You need the truth.”
His words hit their mark. The rage died a sudden death. The truth was what it was...and she couldn’t deny his charge.
The only thing she needed was out of here.
Sarah walked away.
She’d had enough.
Let them believe what they would. Let them depend on that jerk. It was their mistake to make.
◆◆◆
“Sarah!”
“Wait, Kale.”
When he would have gone after her, the chief grabbed Kale by the arm. “Let her go.”
Kale glared at the man, then at Agent Asshole. “What the hell were you doing? She didn’t deserve that.” Kale’s head was still spinning with the reality of what August had said. Sarah’s mother had killed her father...and seven mistresses? Jesus Christ. There had been nothing about that in the background info the chief and the mayor had given him.
Had Sarah overheard her mother’s gruesome activities? Seen things a child shouldn’t see? No wonder she didn’t believe in people. The ones she’d trusted the most had let her down. From her parents all the way down to this jerk—whom she had obviously trusted with her deepest, darkest secrets.
“She played you, Mr. Conner,” August informed him with a fleeting glance at Sarah’s car as she spun out of the parking lot. “That’s what she does. She digs into an investigation and she uses whomever she has to in order to get what she wants. Information.”
Kale was going to beat the hell out of this piece of shit. His chest felt ready to explode. His fingers itched to scrape the parking lot with his self-righteous face. “I don’t think you know her quite as well as you think you do.”
August smirked. “I know every square inch of her.”
Rage detonated in Kale’s blood. Had the chief let go of him already, Kale would have jumped the guy then and there.
“We don’t have time to worry about Sarah Newton, Kale,” the chief urged. “We have a murderer to find. That’s where we need to focus our attention and our energy.”
Kale took a breath, grappled for reason. The chief was right. They had to stop this nightmare. If anyone else disappeared...he couldn’t even go there.
There was no time to worry about Sarah right now. Kale shouldn’t even waste a second caring about her feelings. After what she’d said to him last night, he should be finished with her. He’d let her get to him...had let her closer than he had anyone in so damne
d long it wasn’t even funny.
And she’d played him off as if he didn’t matter.
Yet he couldn’t get her out of his head. As hard as he tried, she just kept breaking through every mental barrier he erected.
He could still smell her on his skin. No matter how many showers he took he couldn’t wash away the feel of her.
Her world was so different from his...he should have known better than to go down that path. He should have recognized that she was only using him.
August’s words echoed....while little Sarah hid in the closet or under the stairs waiting for Mommy to finish up and find her...
Kale could only imagine what Sarah’s childhood had been like...how difficult growing up with that past must have proven. And then to have it publicly dashed in her face by this asshole.
Kale didn’t like this guy. Didn’t like his smug face. Didn’t like his fancy suit. Kale didn’t even like the way he walked or talked.
The truth was, he had no real reason not to like the man. Except for the emotional intensity Kale had just witnessed between him and Sarah.
The two had a history.
August knew all her secrets...secrets she hadn’t seen fit to disclose in any capacity to Kale despite what they had shared.
Frames of last night’s frantic sex in her car flicked one after the other in front of Kale’s eyes.
She’d meant it when she’d said it was only sex.
Kale stared in the direction Sarah had disappeared. Would she come back?
Maybe...maybe not.
Two young girls were dead. Their killer was out there somewhere.
Finding that monster had to be top priority.
Sarah liked to brag about how she could take care of herself.
He hoped like hell she was right.
Chapter 25
8:30 P.M.
Sarah wasn’t about to allow Lex August to send her running for cover.
Better men had tried.
Yeah, he’d gotten to her. But when she’d cooled off she had focused her energy on the investigation. The open road had always worked wonders for her attitude and to clear her head. Allowed her to regain perspective and to analyze things more clearly. So she had spent the day on the road. First a trip to Bangor, then to Portland. She’d perused the archives of the newspapers looking for anything on the murders in Youngstown, old and new. She hadn’t found anything earth-shattering, but she had discovered one very interesting factoid.
Jerald Pope had graciously covered the funeral expenses for the two young women murdered twenty years ago. Just as he’d helped the Gerard family this time.
Did his generosity make him a suspect or a saint?
There had been only one way to find out.
“Here you are, Sarah.”
She accepted the glass of wine. Jerald Pope was a perfect host. Charming. Entertaining. And vastly interesting. As was his wife, Lynda. Dinner had been exquisite.
Beautiful home. Beautiful people.
The empty place setting at the table had been the one glaring imperfection in the evening thus far.
Their daughter hadn’t shown.
“I apologize again for Jerri Lynn’s absence,” Pope said as if he’d read Sarah’s mind. “I can’t imagine what detained her.”
“You know teenagers,” Lynda explained, dismissing his concerns. “They can’t appreciate grown-up get-togethers.”
“I’m sure she found more interesting company.” Admittedly, Sarah had been hoping to meet the daughter. According to what she’d learned from Polly, Jerri Lynn Pope was the one who’d had a crush on Brady. Sarah would have liked very much to get a feel for the girl.
Was she off celebrating because the competition was dead? Perhaps if the girl showed up before this evening was over, Sarah would know what her thoughts were on the latest victim.
The best news of the day was that Sarah was back on track. And no one, not Lex or Conner, was going to get in her way again.
“I saw you on the news today, Sarah,” Pope announced as he set his glass on a table next to the first of two matching sofas. “I could hardly wait until you arrived tonight.”
Sarah wondered if he’d seen Blond Barbie’s or Blond Ken’s stab at interviewing her. “I hope you weren’t disappointed.”
“Not at all.” Pope indicated the elegant sofas stationed across a sleek marble table from each other. “I must admit, I find your background fascinating.”
Tension moved through Sarah as she settled on the sofa opposite the lady of the house. Had Pope been digging around in her past? Sarah braced for that possibility as he relaxed next to his glamorous wife. They made a perfect couple. Sophisticated. Handsome. Well educated. And, if Sarah’s crappy past intrigued either of them, they were clearly bored with the status quo.
Few people knew about her childhood. The courts and her aunt had seen to that by changing Sarah’s last name to Newton, her aunt’s surname, after the trial. Sarah hadn’t been happy at first. Eventually she’d understood that the move had been a good one.
“Your history is quite fascinating as well.” Might as well give him as good as he gave. “Your father was a carpenter. I suppose his love of working with his hands influenced your passion for ship building.” Five minutes on Google had given her a detailed history of Jerald Pope.
Pope reached for his wine, savored a swallow. “To be honest, as a young boy I hated woodworking.” He chuckled. “But that changed the first time I glided across the water in a sailboat. I was hooked.”
Sarah knew that kind of addiction. “Your work has garnered you international acclaim.”
“Indeed,” he agreed.
“You should come up in the spring,” Lynda suggested. “Jerald and I will take you sailing.” She swirled the wine in her glass. “There’s nothing on the planet like gliding across the water in one of Jerald’s vessels.”
“I’ll do that.” Sarah wouldn’t but it wasn’t polite to say so. Particularly when one wanted to keep the conversation going in the right direction. She sipped her wine sparingly. The road back to the village was dark and twisty.
Despite having lived in New England his entire life, Pope didn’t give off the same vibes as the rest of the citizens in Youngstown. There was a worldliness about him that was lacking in others. The same was true of his wife.
“You and Lynda,” Sarah broached, “have made quite a name for yourselves with your generous donations.”
The two smiled at each other. “It’s only fair,” the wife offered, “that we help those less fortunate.”
“Absolutely,” Pope seconded.
Sarah inclined her head and made a show of searching her memory banks. “I think I read somewhere that you”—she looked directly at Pope—“helped the families of the two victims twenty years ago with funeral expenses.”
Pope nodded. “I did. The families were devastated. I heard about the troubling financial problems they were having prior to the tragedy. I couldn’t take away their pain, but I could lessen the stress in other areas.” He shrugged. “It was the right thing to do.”
“Unfortunately,” Lynda added, “at a time like that, there’s little anyone can do. I’m very proud of my husband for his thoughtfulness.”
Another of those shared smiles.
Was it possible for anyone to be this perfect?
“You grew up in Tennessee,” Pope said, shifting the conversation back to Sarah, “but you were born in Minneapolis.”
Surprise flared before Sarah could restrain the reaction. Only a handful of people knew about that part of her past. Evidently he’d done far more than five minutes on Google looking into her background. “Home was actually a small suburb of Minneapolis.”
“You lived above a meat market.” Pope inclined his head, studied her a moment. “I find your childhood as ironic as it is fascinating. You were a butcher’s daughter.”
Inside, where he wouldn’t see, Sarah cringed. She hated that term. But her feelings went deeper than that. She hated
her father. Hated her past. “I suppose it is a bit ironic.” She blocked the idea that Kale Conner now knew all about her past. Along with the chief and the mayor...and obviously Pope.
“I’m sure you run into all sorts of strange people in your work,” Lynda commented. She pinched her lips together and gave a little shake of her head. “You must feel a very strong conviction to deal with such horrific cases.”
What Lynda really wanted to ask was had Sarah’s mother’s decision to murder eight people influenced her decision to immerse herself in murder and mayhem. Her fingers tightened around her glass. Sarah wasn’t going to kid herself here. If Pope had uncovered her humble beginnings, he had the whole story. He was a rich, powerful man. Getting the real story on Sarah had likely been a piece of cake for him.
“I have some stories that would give you nightmares,” she admitted. They sure gave them to her. No, that wasn’t true. Her nightmares were all related to her own private story. “As far as motive or conviction”—she held the other woman’s gaze a moment—“the truth drives me.”
“Perhaps you’ll write a book one day,” Pope offered.
“Perhaps.”
“We could write a book, couldn’t we, Jerald?” Lynda brushed the back of her hand across her husband’s jaw. “Our life has been anything but dull.”
Pope nodded in answer to his wife’s question. “We’ve traveled extensively. The deeper and darker the territory, the better.”
Lynda laughed. “Africa and Mexico were my favorites.”
“The unknown intrigues my wife, Sarah. Whether it’s a safari or a venture deep into rugged, uncivilized terrain. She loves a challenge.”
“What I love most,” Lynda qualified, “is having you at my side wherever I am.”
He touched his wife, the slightest caress of her arm. Sarah observed the interaction. Wondered what it was like to have that kind of connection to another human being. Her one stab at a real relationship had ended badly. Today had been further proof of that reality.