Family Ties (Flesh & Blood Trilogy Book 2)

by Morgan, Christina

  Without thinking, I went to grab one of the pieces of jewelry—a gold necklace with a red ruby pendant—but Web shot his hand out and pulled my arm back away from the box. “Don’t touch anything,” he said sternly.

  Of course. All of it was potential evidence and if my fingerprints were on any of it, we’d have a hell of a time explaining that. We had entered Brian’s house under false pretenses and without a warrant. We couldn’t take anything with us.

  “But we can’t just leave these things here,” I said. “This all but proves that Brian is the real serial killer.”

  “As soon as we leave, call it in as an anonymous tip. I can’t be involved in this in any way, shape, or form. I’m sure you don’t want to be questioned about how you knew these things even existed, either.”

  “True,” I said. “Good idea.”

  “Let’s get the hell out of here,” Web said as he stood from his crouching position.

  I followed him back down the hallway, through the living room, and back through the front door. I locked the door and replaced the key in the exact position in which I had found it.

  When we were back in Web’s cruiser, I sat back in my seat and rested my elbow on the edge of the window and my chin in my hand. After a few moments of silence, and after we’d exited Brian’s street, Web looked over at me and asked why I was being so quiet.

  “I was just thinking…”

  “Yes?”

  “If Brian is the real I-75 Strangler, that means my father really was telling the truth. He really is innocent and has been all this time.”

  “Well, yes. But that’s a good thing. You look like you’re about to cry.”

  He was right. Tears has begun to sting the back of my eyelids and I was blinking them back. I was hoping he couldn’t tell I was upset, but he was a detective, after all. What had I expected? I hesitated before answering, because I wasn’t sure I wanted to reveal my innermost thoughts to this man I had only known for a short period of time. Even if it was becoming obvious that we were mutually attracted to one another. Maybe even especially because we were mutually attracted to one another. In the end, I thought of my mother and how she’d always told me not to keep my emotions bottled up inside or they would eat away at my soul. Thinking of my mother reminded me that I really needed to go see her.

  “Turn right up here,” I told Web, avoiding his question.

  “Why? Where are we going?”

  “We aren’t going anywhere. I want to go visit my mom for a few minutes and she lives right down this street.”

  “You’re the boss,” he said jokingly. “But seriously. Tell me what’s bothering you. You can talk to me, you know.”

  I sighed deeply. “It’s just…my father is innocent. Yeah, I know, that’s a good thing, but you have no idea how badly I’ve treated him for the past twenty years. I don’t know if he’ll ever be able to forgive me. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive myself.” I pointed through the windshield. “It’s the house with the big front porch on the left.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up too badly,” Web said as he pulled into Mom’s driveway and put the car in park. “You thought he was a serial killer, for God’s sake. How could you have possibly known? He confessed. This is not on you. It’s on him for putting you through that kind of torture.”

  “Can I really blame him, though? After all, he was covering for his son. He felt guilty for not being in his life. And now, it’s clear as day that he is not guilty. Randy did what he thought was best at the time, I suppose.”

  “Well, if you want my advice,” Web said. “Go talk to him again. Apologize. I’m pretty sure he’ll understand and forgive you. You’re his daughter, after all.”

  I looked at Web and instantly fought back the desire to reach out and kiss him full on the lips. Was there anything about this man that wasn’t perfect? “You’re right. I’ll go see him again tomorrow. But right now, my mom deserves to know what’s going on. Want to meet her?”

  “You should call in the tip about Brian’s trophies first. We don’t want to take any chances, but yes, when you’re done, I’d love to come meet your mother.”

  I had to remind myself this was not a date. But that did nothing to calm the butterflies that were fluttering around inside me. For the first time in a long time, I felt at peace. I was sitting with a man I really liked. I’d proven my father’s innocence. Life was good.

  I pulled my phone out of my purse and dialed the non-emergency number for the Richmond Police Department. But not before blocking my number.

  Chapter 19

  I hung up the phone quickly before the dispatcher finished asking me my name and prayed that call blocking would work.

  “There,” I said as I tossed my phone back into my purse. “That oughta get them out there ASAP. Now what?”

  “Well, once they send a detective, maybe even me, out with a search warrant, they’ll discover the trophies and put an APB out on Brian’s truck. I don’t have his plates, but we have a physical description of him and his truck. Hopefully, we’ll have him pulled in sooner rather than later and then he’ll have a lot of explaining to do.”

  I nodded. “Are you sure you want to meet Mom? You can wait in the car if you want. I won’t be long.”

  “I’d love to,” he said with a perfect smile.

  We both exited the cruiser and Web followed me up the sidewalk, onto the porch, and to the front door. Even though it was after seven p.m., I only had to ring the doorbell twice before Mom pulled the door open and looked at me in shock.

  “Libby,” she said, now looking at Web, who was still in his uniform. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

  “Everything’s fine, Mom,” I said with a reassuring smile. “This is Detective Webster with the Richmond Police Department.”

  Web extended his hand and Mom slowly offered hers in return. When their hands met and Web shook hers firmly, he said, “Don’t worry, ma’am. Libby’s with me on official police business.”

  After everything I’d been through with the police following Ryan’s murder, it didn’t surprise me to see the wariness in Mom’s eyes, even after Web’s reassurance. But ever the polite Southern hostess, Mom nodded her head and said, “Please, come in.”

  Web followed in behind me as I walked into the foyer and toward the living room.

  “Mom,” I began as I sat down on the formal living room sofa. “Everything’s okay. I promise. I just need to talk to you for a few minutes. Then Web and I have to go. I can’t stay.”

  Mom slowly settled herself into the straight-backed, wooden-framed chair across from me and said, “Go on.”

  Web sat down next to me on the couch and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.

  “Mrs…”

  “Please. Call me Kaye.”

  “All right. Kaye, your daughter has something to tell you that may be difficult to hear. But we both think it’s best you hear it from her before it hits headlines, probably tomorrow morning.”

  “Oh, God,” she said with her hand to her bosom. “You’re scaring me. Libby, what’s going on?”

  I held my hand out as if to calm her from a distance. “Everything’s completely fine with me, Mom. It’s about Dad.”

  Obviously shocked by hearing me refer to Randy as “Dad” for the first time in twenty years, Mom sat back in her chair and almost melted into it. “What happened to him? Is he okay? Has he been hurt?”

  “No, no,” I said. “Nothing like that. Well, you know Dad hired me to try to prove his innocence, right?”

  She nodded slowly.

  “And you know I’ve been working on his case for the past couple of months. Well, I learned something over the past couple of days that may come as a shock to you, but I promise, once you’ve heard everything, you will understand.” I cleared my throat, suddenly scared to death to tell Mom that her husband had a secret love child he’d never told her about. “You see, when Dad was in high school…well, remember that girl we talked about a couple days
ago? The freshman that Dad said he’d known in high school?”

  “Yes.”

  “Her name is Annie Larson. And the truth is, well, Dad got her pregnant. But shortly after he found out about the baby, Annie Larson’s father told Dad that she had lost it. In reality, they’d sent her away to Virginia to a girls’ home for pregnant teenagers.”

  “Oh, my God…” She looked pale and she was staring at me blankly.

  “There’s more,” I warned her. “Just before Annie’s baby was to be adopted, she ran away with her son, whom she named Brian Randall Larson, never to be seen again. Her parents haven’t even seen her since she was fifteen. They’ve never even met Brian.”

  “How do you know all of this?” Mom looked at me, then at Web, for answers.

  “Your daughter is very good at her job,” Web answered.

  “Anyway, there’s more. About twenty years ago, Dad ran into Annie Larson, who was working as a prostitute at a truck stop. When she realized who he was, she confessed her undying love for him and told him that Brian was still alive. That she’d never lost the baby. Of course, Dad offered to take care of her and Brian, but she was so enraged when he rebuffed her romantic advances, that she cursed at him and promised him that he’d suffer for everything he’d put her through.”

  “I feel dizzy,” Mom said as she put her hand to her white cheek.

  “Hang on,” I said gently. “I’m almost done. Not long after that, those prostitutes started disappearing one by one from truck stops. I don’t know exactly how, but Dad knew in his gut that Brian was responsible. Especially when he saw Alma Jean Glover’s sketch of the killer. So, in order to hide his shame, and in order to protect the son he felt he’d abandoned, he confessed to being the killer.”

  Mom tried to stand. Seeing she was unsteady on her feet, Web jumped up from the couch and reached out to help her, but she just fell dizzily back into the chair. She put her hand to her forehead, just like she used to do to me when she was checking me for a fever. I was about to speak, but decided I should let her process everything I had just dumped on her.

  Web broke the silence. “Kaye, may I get you anything to drink? Would you like some water?”

  “Yes, please,” she said as she stared out through the faux wood blinds into the darkness.

  “In the door of the fridge,” I whispered to him as he walked past me into the kitchen. “Mom? Did you hear what I said? Dad is innocent, after all. I can prove it now. Well, almost.”

  She turned her head and looked at me with tear-filled eyes. I wasn’t sure whether they were tears of joy or sadness, until she finally spoke. “I knew it. I always knew it.”

  “That he was innocent?”

  “No,” she said wiping away a stray tear. “That he had a secret. Something he wasn’t telling me. He always said to leave the past in the past. I knew there was something he wasn’t telling me. A woman knows these things.”

  “Mom, that’s not important right now. What’s important is that Dad is not what we thought he was. And I think I can prove it and get him out of prison.”

  Finally, she seemed to snap out of her trance. “That’s wonderful, Libby. I’m so proud of you.”

  Web returned with a bottle of water and handed it to Mom, who unscrewed the lid and lifted the bottle to her trembling lips. After a few large gulps, she screwed the lid back on and set the bottle down on a coaster on the table beside her. “It’s late. I’d better get to bed. You know how I am when I don’t get my beauty sleep.”

  Mom was in shock, I could tell. I knew that feeling all too well. It was shock I had experienced when I found my husband dead, when I found his killer sitting in my living room, and when I had ultimately killed him in self-defense. It had taken me weeks to get over the trauma of those shocking events. How could I expect my mother to snap out of it after only a few minutes? I decided it was probably best to leave her alone and let her process all the information I had just given her.

  I walked across the room to where Mom was sitting, knelt at her feet, grabbed her hands in mine and kissed them both. “Everything is going to be okay, Mom. Trust me. I won’t stop until Dad is out of prison and back home with you, where he belongs.”

  Even though she and Randy had amicably divorced a few years after he was sent to prison, Mom had never stopped loving the man. And even though she ultimately came to believe the bill of goods he’d sold us about being a serial killer, she still loved him. She had helped him “find God” and “repent of his sins.” She had visited him regularly for the past twenty years. But I was quite certain it had never even crossed her mind that he would ever come home.

  She squeezed my hands, looked right into my eyes, and said, “You do that, Libby. You bring your father home.”

  Web’s phone rang just then, and he apologized for the interruption. I sat there holding Mom’s hands and watching Web’s face as he nodded and said, “Roger that,” several times before hanging up and looking up at me.

  “They just got the search warrant for the house signed by the judge. My supervisor is meeting me at Brian’s rental house in fifteen minutes to execute the warrant and search the house. The anonymous tip worked.”

  I stood up from my kneeling position, let go of Mom’s hands, and kissed her on the forehead. “Gotta go, Mom. Will you be okay without me for a little while?”

  “Where are you going?”

  I looked at Web, who shook his head. He didn’t want me to tell Mom any details, just yet.

  I looked back at Mom and said, “Just following a lead, Mom. I’m one step closer to proving Dad is innocent. You just get some rest and I’ll call to check on you in the morning. In the meantime, call me if you need me.”

  I kissed her again, this time on the cheek, and she kissed me back.

  ***

  When we got back into Web’s cruiser, he looked at me for a few seconds before turning over the ignition.

  “What?” I asked. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “I can’t bring you with me to Brian’s house.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’re not on the force, Libby. How would I explain your presence to my supervisor?”

  I reached over and turned the keys to get the warm air going. “Just tell him I’m a consulting investigator. He may not like it, but there’s no law against a private investigator helping with official police business.”

  “But if he knows you are Randall McLanahan’s daughter, and the sister of the suspect, he won’t let you step one foot on the scene. He may even physically remove you himself. You don’t know him. He can be a bit of a dickhead.”

  “I won’t tell if you won’t,” I said with a mischievous smile.

  “I don’t know, Libby…”

  “Come on, Web. You know how important this is for me. My father’s freedom is on the line. Not to mention my brother’s life. You can’t keep me away, so why even bother?”

  “What do you mean, your brother’s life?”

  “I mean, that even though Brian is apparently the real killer, he’s sick, Web. He’s not mentally stable. He’s on the run and as soon as the PD finds those trophies, he’s going to be the subject of a statewide, if not national, manhunt. And who knows how he’ll react if he’s cornered. I want to get to him before the police…well, the rest of the police…get to him.”

  “And how do you propose we do that?” He looked at me curiously now. I could tell I almost had him convinced.

  “It’ll take them several hours to figure out who rents that house and put a name to the suspect. We would have at least several hours’ head start.”

  “Oh, no,” Web said, shaking his head vehemently. “I can’t go with you, Libby. I don’t mind helping you. In fact, I want to help you.” He reached out and grabbed my hand. I was shocked by his boldness, but excited to be touching him at the same time. “But I can’t risk my career by going off-wire to help you track down your brother. I’ll help you in any way I can, but I can’t go with you. I’m sorry.”


  I understood. I did. Web and I may have been at the beginning of something bigger than a platonic working relationship, but I couldn’t ask him to risk his badge, or his life, to help a girl he’d never even taken on a proper date. I nodded and said, “Of course. I understand. Just do me one more favor, will you?”

  “Anything. Well…almost anything.”

  “Take me to my car?”

  He smiled and put the car in reverse. “That I can do.”

  ***

  After Web dropped me off next to my Sorento and drove off to meet his supervisor at Brian’s rental house, I climbed in quickly to get out of the cold night air. I sat there with the warm air blowing in my face, trying to formulate a plan. On the one hand, it was now very clear that Brian was the real I-75 Strangler. I needed to prove this in order to prove Randy’s innocence and free him from prison. And if Brian was still killing people—like the bartender, Jo—he needed to be stopped.

  On the other hand, he was mentally ill and very unstable. Although, when I’d met him earlier that day, he seemed very docile and subdued. Not at all like a man capable of murdering at least ten women. And, he was family. True, I had only recently discovered that he was my brother, but he was family nonetheless. Could I really let the police hunt him down, guns blazing? What if he panicked and tried something stupid? They would shoot him right then and there and then I’d have his death on my conscience.

  No, I couldn’t let that happen. If Brian really was the I-75 Strangler, I did need him brought to justice in order to help Randy, but that didn’t mean I was willing to let Brian be killed by the police in the process. Plus, I couldn’t prove Randy’s innocence if Brian was dead. So I decided right then and there that I was going to find Brian. What I would do with him once I found him, I had no clue. But my gut instinct told me the only way to save both Randy and Brian was to bring him in myself. If that was at all possible.