Serve and Protect (Heroes of Evers, Texas #3)

by Lori Ryan

  Ashley didn’t look at him. She talked to her sister now and he wasn’t sure she remembered he was there. “There was so much blood, Cora. And I felt sick and weak. I thought maybe something was really wrong. So I went to the hospital.”

  “Did you give them your name, Ashley?” Garret needed to know as much as possible, to put as much detail into the request for a warrant as he could.

  She looked at him now. “No. I gave a fake name and told them my boyfriend had gotten me pregnant and then beat me and I lost the baby. The doctor did what I expected. He called social services. When the caseworker came to see me, I gave her the same fake name and story. She left to check it and to open a file, to get the police looking for my fake boyfriend. I guess to get in touch with my parents if she could find them. While she was gone, the doctor asked me all kinds of questions and examined me. I had delivered the placenta after the baby, so there wasn’t a need for a D&C. He told me the bleeding was normal and that I had to watch for fever and signs of infection.”

  She swiped at her cheeks with her fingertips. The tears had slowed now.

  “He wanted to admit me overnight, so I said yes, but I left before the caseworker came back. Just slipped away in the chaos of the emergency room. I spent about a week sleeping in empty buildings. I looked for places with no signs of other squatters. Spots that still had some people working there during the day, like construction sites and an office building that had empty floors I could hide on. That way, I didn’t run into others.”

  “Oh my God, Ashley,” Cora said. “I can’t believe you went through all of this and hid it all this time. You never told Alice what happened?” Cora seemed to be as dumbfounded as he was.

  How could this have happened? How could she have gone through what she had and hidden it?

  “No. After a week, I hitchhiked back to Branson Falls and went to see Alice. Bill and his wife hadn’t even told her I had taken off. I refused to tell her what happened. All I would tell her was that I needed to be out of there. She had long suspected that he was…” She let the words die in her throat. “She didn’t make me tell her details. I refused to testify, told her I wouldn’t talk. She didn’t need more than that to close the home and revoke their foster care license. She only would have needed me to talk if she was going to bring charges.”

  She took a deep breath. “She tried several times the first few years to get me to change my mind so she could bring charges. I knew she’d removed their license, so I didn’t see any reason to talk. And I didn’t want anyone to know what I had done.”

  “Done?” He shook his head. She hadn’t done anything. Before he could ask anything more, she stood and he realized she’d brought the Ice Queen out again. She was protecting herself as best she could.

  “Dig. You’ll find all the proof you need.” She walked down the hall to her room and he heard the quiet click of the door shutting behind her.

  Garret sat stock still for a moment, not wanting to believe what he’d just heard. She had been fourteen. Fourteen when she’d been raped. When she’d gotten pregnant. When she’d been beaten so badly she lost the baby. And his head caught and stuck on one thing. What she had done? What had she meant by that? Because, for the life of him, he couldn’t think of anything she’d done other than survive. Hell, that wasn’t even right. She’d done so much more than simply survive.

  Most kids would curl up and not come back from it, ever. Or they’d be so angry and hateful for the rest of their lives, they’d lash out. Or turn to drugs. She had not only survived, she was thriving. Sure, she’d had some setbacks the last couple of weeks. He got that. She’d had a lot of crap dredged up for her. She was dealing with memories, and—if he was right after what he’d witnessed yesterday—maybe flashbacks, too.

  But if you looked at her life as a whole, she was incredible. She’d built not only one career, but two. She was a contributing member of her community, a woman people respected and looked up to. He only had to look at the large number of people who would do anything for her to know she was a good friend. It was evidenced in their commitment to her.

  He raised his gaze to meet Cora’s and shook his head. She looked absolutely stunned. All this time, as close as those two were, Ashley hadn’t told her. He could see it in her eyes.

  “I don’t know if we can bring charges for what he did to Ashley. There are special rules when a minor is involved. In some cases, the statute of limitations is going to run from when the minor becomes an adult. I have to speak to the DA, see what the statute is here. But I can use this to get that child out of the home. Hopefully, with this information, the mom will take her out of the home herself, and get her away from that monster.”

  Cora nodded. “Do you think he killed Alice?”

  He nodded. “I think it’s a very good possibility. I’m going to take this to the DA. See if we can get a warrant to search the yard, dig up the baby’s remains, if they’re even there after all this time.” He began making a mental checklist, and on top of the list was calling his friend at the state forensics lab to see if the bones from a five-month-old fetus would even be around after this length of time.

  He continued aloud. “I’ll try to use this to get a search warrant to see if there’s anything related to Alice’s murder or to Alice in the house. It’s a thread to pull…finally.”

  Cora gestured over her shoulder. “I’m going to check on her.”

  He nodded and stood. As much as he wanted to go to Ashley, he couldn’t. He had to follow through on what she’d just given him. He had to follow this lead and make sure the girl he’d seen was safe. And if his gut was right, Ashley needed time. She wasn’t ready to see him after what she’d just revealed. He had a feeling she would need to process this. She would need to take time to get through this with her family, to come to terms with things.

  “I’ll let myself out,” he said, then called out to Cora as she started down the hall. “Tell her I’ll be back. I’m only leaving long enough to get things rolling and follow this through to get the girl out of the house. Then I’ll be back.” He just hoped she’d let him in when he did come back. That she wouldn’t hate him. Because he was now the man who’d made her face her worst nightmare. Made her relive it.

  And made her share it with the world.

  *

  Ashley stood in Bill Franks’ backyard and watched, flanked by her mother and Cora. She hadn’t been able to stop shaking since she’d told Cora and Garret her story, and she had to fight not to turn and run from the place she’d never wanted to return to. When Garret had called to say they’d be executing the warrant and asked her if she wanted to be there, her gut reaction had been to say no. But her mother and Cora convinced her to go. They believed it would be cathartic. She wasn’t sure. Images from her time here flashed through her head faster than she could process them, each bringing a fresh wave of fear and shame. She felt sick to her stomach, and the need to look over her shoulder for Bill Franks wouldn’t go away, even though she knew he wasn’t there.

  Garret had consulted a forensics expert who felt there would be enough of the skeleton of her baby left to test for DNA. He had also talked to the DA, who said he might be willing to bring charges of manslaughter against Franks for killing the infant when he beat Ashley. It was too late to charge him for statutory rape. She didn’t know what to feel about any of that yet.

  Bill Franks and his girlfriend, Michelle Davis, had been taken into custody for questioning before Ashley had arrived—Franks as a suspect in Alice’s murder, and Davis as a material witness. Ashley was just happy not to have to see Franks. She couldn’t have handled that right now. She was barely holding it together as it was.

  As she stood to the side, she watched the coroner remove the large concrete blocks that lay over the grave. A half hour later, he began to remove bones, and the empty ache she always felt when she thought of her baby came over her.

  He didn’t pull out the bundle of towels she’d carefully wrapped her baby in. She supposed that m
ade sense. After ten years, they were probably nothing more than shreds at the bottom of the grave. She hadn’t offered her child much in the way of a burial. The thought of the tattered material struck her hard, as if she’d left her baby exposed. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see the bones being lifted one by one and placed in a cardboard evidence box.

  Forgive me.

  Garret had said they would need the remains for evidence, but that she would eventually be able to claim the body and bury her daughter properly. That gave her some comfort as she stood there, heart aching with the knowledge that she had failed that little baby. Failed her in so many ways.

  Please, please forgive me.

  Alice had tried to get Ashley to leave the Franks’ home before, always suspecting there was something going on. Ashley had refused for so many reasons, all of them complex and twisted. But one of the main reasons she hadn’t was because she’d wanted to keep that baby. She hadn’t wanted anyone to find out about the little girl. In her foolish, fourteen-year-old mind, she had thought she could hide the pregnancy long enough that no one could make her get rid of the baby.

  And at first her stomach was only getting thick around her waist, not really sticking out the way she’d thought it would. It was only the week before the baby died that her stomach had really started protruding in any significant way.

  Ashley brought her hand to her mouth and covered the sob that wanted to come out. She felt gutted, standing here watching this. Her mother’s arms held her tightly, but Ashley finally turned away. From the day she’d entered their family, Mary Walker’s arms had been a place of sanctuary. Right now, she couldn’t have that. She couldn’t stand to have anyone comforting her when there would never be comfort for the baby she’d failed.

  17

  Garret waited on Ashley’s front steps, wondering if she would answer the door for him. He didn’t see her mother’s car or Cora’s, so either Ashley was out with one of them or she was here alone.

  When the door opened a moment later, he had his answer.

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me,” he said.

  She didn’t even look like the woman he’d known just days before. There was a wall around her a mile high right now, and everything in her body language warned him off. Told him to go away.

  She wore jeans that were skintight with holes at the knees, and a loose sweatshirt with a large neckline that hung off one shoulder. She looked like a teenager, he realized. Like she was forcing herself back to when she’d lived in the Franks’ home. Burying the adult Ashley and going back to the teenager who’d seen and known too much.

  She tilted her head. “Why wouldn’t I want to see you? Maybe you like me better now that you know what I am? Maybe you feel like you’ve got more of a shot to get in my pants now, Detective, huh?”

  “What is it that you think you are, Ashley?” His voice was quiet, even though he wanted to grab her and shake her. He wanted her to understand that none of this was her fault. That she hadn’t done anything wrong.

  She shrugged. “A victim?” He knew that wasn’t really her answer. That wasn’t what she was thinking at all. Because she didn’t see herself as a victim here. She was telling him what she thought he wanted to hear. He had a feeling her real answer was a lot less charitable toward herself.

  He decided to leave it alone for now. “Can I come in?”

  She didn’t say anything, but stepped back, making room for him to enter.

  She moved to the couch and sat, her knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around them as if to hug herself. He ached to be the one doing the hugging. Holding her and letting her draw strength from him. But he didn’t know what she needed from him. Didn’t know how to be there for her. What to do. And her jerky movements told him to stay back.

  He sat next to her on the couch, not crowding, but not going away either.

  “We’ve arrested Bill Franks.” There was no reaction. No change to her demeanor whatsoever. “Not for what he did to you. The district attorney can’t arrest him for that. The statute of limitations has run out on the statutory rape charges.”

  He spoke softly, but with each word, each mention of what Franks had done to her, he watched another wall go up. There were so many layers, he didn’t know how he’d start to bring them down.

  Her eyes shuttered, her gaze going cold and hard. He imagined the teenager who had shown up in Alice’s office. Hardened. Cut off from the world. He had a feeling Ashley’s adoptive parents were nothing short of miracle workers. Getting through the walls she must have had back then—the ones he saw her constructing anew right before him—must have taken very special people.

  “They want to bring aggravated manslaughter charges against him for the death of your baby.” Another wall went up. Her eyes were not simply hard and cold any longer. They’d gone dead. He pushed on, going on the theory that it was better to get all of this out in the open at once. Then he’d get a freaking sledgehammer if he had to, and obliterate those damned walls.

  “The DA is also going to bring charges for Alice’s homicide against him based on evidence we found at the home. He had a folder and notes Alice had made. Notes with your name on them, information on him from years before. It’s in Alice’s handwriting. We believe he took it from her apartment when he killed her. I think she was going to investigate him, that she found out he had a child in his home and was going to try to get that child out of there using testimony from you, if she could get it. I believe he stopped her before she could do that. When Michelle Davis was presented with the evidence against him and the evidence of his molestation of you as a child, she stood her ground. She refuses to take her child and leave his home, even if he makes bail and comes back to the house. She doesn’t believe he’s a child molester. No matter what we showed her or told her, she remained convinced he’d been wrongly accused. Child Protective Services has removed the child from her care at this time.”

  He leaned down, forcing her eyes to meet his. “The girl is safe now, Ashley. You did that. You gave us what we needed to get her out of that house. To get her away from him. We don’t think he touched her yet. She wasn’t his preferred age.”

  A flash of…something he couldn’t quite read crossed her face before she could hide it. And then he saw anger, right before she lashed out.

  “I didn’t protect my baby! I didn’t stop him from killing my baby. Do you know how many times Alice asked me to leave that house, Garret? How many times she tried to get me to open up to her, to tell her what was going on? And do you want to know the really sick part? I tell myself I stayed so no one would find out about the baby. That I could hide it there and save up money to leave, but I know the truth. I know why I stayed. Do you want to know, too? Because maybe if you know, you’ll realize what I am and you’ll leave me alone. You’ll get the hell out of my life.”

  Garret forced his body to stay at ease, his breathing to regulate. He didn’t want her to see a reaction. Game face on, he responded. “Is that what you want, Ashley? For me to leave?”

  Her sneer was ugly, but she didn’t answer his question. “Come on, Garret. Don’t detectives always want the truth? Don’t you want to know why I stayed?”

  She had switched to a tauntingly seductive tone. It wasn’t the seductive voice he’d heard from her before—the one that was natural, that she seemed utterly unaware of as it caused an instantaneous reaction whenever he heard it. This was a falsely seductive voice he imagined her using over the years as a form of armor. As a way to keep things on her playing field, where she wanted them.

  “Sure, Ashley,” he said with a feigned nonchalance he didn’t feel in the least. “Why don’t you tell me why you stayed?”

  “Because I liked it,” she spat at him. She’d risen to her feet now and her whole body screamed for him to leave. Screamed, get away!

  He didn’t. He nodded. “I imagine you did.”

  The shock in her eyes held for a split second before she covered it with more of that false freak
ing bravado that chiseled away at his heart. God, she was hurting, and her pain cut into him.

  Her lips curled in a snarl and he had to remind himself she was frightened. She was hurting and lashing out and protecting herself as only a fourteen-year-old girl could. Because that’s what she was right now. She’d been launched back into the horrible nightmare of her existence. She’d been tossed back there and she was living it right now in front of him.

  “You don’t get it. I liked what he was doing to me. I liked that he wanted me. I liked the attention. I liked the way he made me feel. I was a whore, Garret. Nothing more than a whore. I was so happy when I got pregnant. I wanted that baby. But not for the reason you’re thinking. You think I wanted something to care for. Someone to be my family. But that wasn’t it. I thought if I kept the baby, if I had his baby, he’d want me forever. I thought if I gave him what his wife could never give him I could stay. I would even let her raise the baby as her own. We’d tell everyone it was their baby, and we’d all live happily ever after. That’s why I wanted the baby. I was using that baby when I got her killed.”

  Garret kept his face blank and his gaze steady as his heart was cleaved in two by her words. By the ache in her voice. It killed him that she thought she should feel any guilt for what happened. Of course, she hadn’t had the training he had in handling victims of sexual assault and molestation. His training hadn’t been in depth. But he knew enough to know her feelings weren’t unusual.

  Victims of molestation often had mixed feelings about what was happening. It took a lot for them to realize that just because their body responded to the stimulation, it didn’t make them responsible for what was done to them. And for Ashley, adding in the fact that she’d gone through life in foster care, that at fourteen she had come to realize the chances of being adopted were slim to none, you had a recipe for a kid feeling some pretty mixed-up things about her molester. It was natural that she thought the baby could bind those people to her as a family.