by LENA DIAZ,
Matt rolled his head on his shoulders and studied Tessa. She was sitting on the other side of the bench, staring at the battleship-gray walls, lost in a world she refused to share with him. He’d tried to hold her after she’d remembered the accident. He’d wanted nothing more than to offer her comfort, but she’d stubbornly pushed him away, her back ramrod straight, unshed tears shining in her eyes.
She hadn’t been able to answer any of his questions, like where her parents were when she and her sister were in the car. What were her parents’ names? Where had the family lived? Where were Tessa and her sister going at the time of the accident? The look of utter devastation in her eyes was his only answer.
He replayed her version of the crash in his mind, but something about it didn’t seem right. The facts didn’t fit, like a jigsaw puzzle with a crucial piece missing, but damned if he could figure out what bothered him about her story.
A gray-haired man dressed in a wrinkled business suit stopped at the desk and spoke to the duty sergeant. The sergeant pointed to the bench where Matt and Tessa were sitting. The older man’s gaze barely touched on Matt before landing on Tessa. His mouth tightened, and he stared at her for several moments before crossing to them.
“Mr. Buchanan, Special Agent James, I’m Detective Larry Stephens.” He held up a manila folder and waved them forward. “Follow me.”
They had both risen to shake his hand, but Stephens didn’t seem to notice. He led them to a surprisingly large office, until Matt noted the three desks. If the other two men who worked in this office were sitting at their desks right now, the room would probably feel as cramped as a closet.
Stephens pitched the folder onto the scarred laminate desk and motioned for Matt to help him get the two chairs from the other desks for Matt and Tessa to use. Once they were all seated, Stephens planted himself in his chair and pulled a stack of pictures and the top few sheets of paper from the manila folder.
He tapped the pages. “Please tell me three hours of crawling through spiderwebs and breathing toxic mold was worth it, because there sure isn’t a hell of a lot in this report. I assume you already have a suspect?”
“Not yet,” Matt said. “We’d hoped you might help us with that.”
Stephens rolled his eyes and leaned back.
Tessa pulled a picture of Tonya Garrett out of her suit jacket pocket and held it up. “I know it’s unlikely you’ve seen this girl, but she’s missing. I’d appreciate it if you’d spread the word among your officers.”
He didn’t move to take it. “You believe she’s here, in Murray?”
She put the photo on his desk. “Probably not. But I thought I’d ask.”
He grunted in response.
Tessa shot him an irritated glance and scooted forward to read the report about the group home fire. Matt read over her shoulder.
“The report says the group home fire was arson, but the newspaper story we read said the fire was caused by an electrical short,” Tessa said.
Stephens raised a brow. “The FBI doesn’t feed false stories to the media to hold back details crucial to their investigations?”
“Point taken.”
“Accelerant, a mixture of gasoline and kerosene, was used around the foundation of the wing that burned. There were twelve girls sleeping in that section of the building. Only eight made it out.”
Tessa didn’t visibly react to that news. She seemed to be holding herself together much better now that they were actively investigating again. She sorted through the photographs, which showed different views of the burned-out building.
“From what I see here,” she continued, “and from what we saw at the site today, it doesn’t seem possible that anyone could have made it out alive. How did the survivors escape?”
“Smoke alarms woke the nighttime security guard. He used a fire extinguisher to knock down the fire near one of the windows and helped the girls climb out. But he couldn’t get them all. The building was all wood, even the floors. Mix that with the accelerant and there wasn’t much he could do. That fire swept through the whole wing in just a few minutes, and some of the girls were trapped. By the time the firemen arrived, the building was fully involved.”
He laced his fingers together on the desk. “From what Mr. Buchanan told me on the phone, Special Agent James, you were one of the survivors.”
“So I’m told. I don’t remember.” She glanced at Matt. “Not clearly, anyway. There are . . . fragments of memories, or maybe it’s just from seeing the burned group home today. I don’t know for sure.”
“Well, like I said, there’s not much here. We never developed any good leads. And that folder is all I could find. A case that old . . .” He shrugged. “No telling where all the files ended up.”
“You don’t remember anything else that isn’t in the report?” she asked.
“Do you know how many investigations I’ve worked on in the past two decades? Hundreds. Do I remember any details about this particular case that aren’t written right here in black and white? From over twenty years ago? No. I don’t.”
From the mutinous expression on Tessa’s face, Matt decided interference might be needed before she said something she’d regret.
“What about other arson cases the year of the group home fire?” Matt asked. “Did any of them involve gasoline and kerosene as accelerants?”
“The case file doesn’t say anything about that, and I don’t remember any other arsons that year. To know for sure, I’d have to go back to the annex and do a lot more digging. Unless you can offer me a damn good reason to do that, I don’t plan on it. I’ve got a heavy caseload that I should be working on instead of a dead-end, decades-old arson case.”
“Four girls being murdered isn’t a good enough reason?” Tessa accused.
Stephens’s jaw clamped tight.
“I didn’t see any witness statements in the report.” Matt rushed to fill the awkward silence.
Stephens riffled through the other papers in the folder. “There are a couple here, from the staff. No one saw anything. Like I said, no leads, no suspects.”
“May I see the rest of the documents?” Tessa’s request sounded more like an order. She held her hand out for the folder.
He gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “How about I make this easier on all of us by copying the whole damn thing? You can take it with you.”
He shuffled everything back into the folder and stood.
A knock sounded behind them. A young woman stood in the open doorway holding some papers. “Are you the FBI agent and private investigator Larry talked to on the phone?”
“We’re busy here, Susan. What do you need?” Stephens didn’t look pleased with the interruption.
Undaunted by the detective’s brusque greeting, Susan stepped into the office and introduced herself. “I’m the glue that holds this place together, otherwise known as an administrative assistant. While Larry was crawling over boxes at the annex, I did some digging of my own.” She put her hand on Tessa’s shoulder. “You’re one of the girls who escaped the fire?”
“I believe so, yes.”
“Larry said you’d remembered something about a car accident before you went to live at the group home.”
Tessa glanced at Matt in question.
“I mentioned it to Stephens on the phone.”
“Susan,” Stephens said, “I’m sure they don’t have time for—”
“No, no. Please continue,” Tessa said. “We appreciate any information you can give us.”
Susan held up the papers in her hand as if they were a trophy. “I called Family Services and asked a few questions. The original records from the burned group home were lost years ago, and we don’t even have group homes in this area anymore. The foster care system has eliminated the need for things like that.”
“Is there a point to this?” Stephens asked, his voice gruff, impatient.
She grinned triumphantly. “As a matter of fact, yes. Family Services gave me a l
ist of which counties used to send children to the Murray State Girls’ Home.”
“How many counties are we talking about?” Tessa asked.
“Ten. But don’t let that worry you. The first county I called, Hopkins County, has records on all the children they transferred here. Those records are sealed, of course, but when I mentioned the car accident, and what you remembered about it, the clerk found a possible match. I pulled the police report on the accident. I think this is what you’re looking for.” She handed the papers to Tessa.
Stephens frowned and rounded the desk. “You don’t need to be wasting the FBI’s time with unrelated cases.” He reached for the papers, but Tessa pulled them back.
“Just a minute, Detective. I want to look at this.”
He flashed an irritated look at Susan, but he didn’t try to grab the papers again.
Tessa shook the assistant’s hand. “Thank you. You’ve been tremendously helpful.”
Susan beamed at her, then hurriedly left the room, flashing an uncertain look at the detective as she did so. Stephens stalked out of the room after her, mumbling something about making copies.
“Single-car accident, rural, two-lane highway.” Tessa picked out relevant details from the write-up. “Only two people were in the car, two girls approximately sixteen and seven years old, believed to be sisters, based on the similarity of features, including red hair. The younger one wore a pink bracelet with the name Tessa on it.”
She gave Matt a wide-eyed look. “This has to be the accident I remembered.”
He nodded in agreement and read over her shoulder.
Suddenly, Tessa’s body tensed, and Matt realized she must have seen the same thing he’d just noticed.
That one line in the police report made everything click. It explained why Tessa’s memory of the sequence of events had bothered him. She’d said there was a loud noise and then the car swerved into the ditch. He would have expected the loud noise to happen at the time of the crash, the loud noise being the car slamming into the embankment.
But now, after reading the report, Matt had the explanation for the loud noise, and he knew Tessa’s memory was correct. The loud noise she’d heard wasn’t the car crashing.
It was a gunshot.
“SOMEONE SHOT MY sister.” Tessa couldn’t quite get past that horrifying fact. “Why would someone shoot a sixteen-year-old girl driving down the highway?”
Matt put his arm around her shoulders. Tessa knew she shouldn’t take advantage of him. She shouldn’t rely on him, look to him for support, not when they were supposed to be peers working an investigation. But she could no longer deny the fact that they were, somehow, more than that now. She gratefully took what he offered, leaning against him, absorbing his quiet strength when she needed it most.
“Who would do such a thing? Why?” she asked.
“Hopkins County isn’t that far from here. We can jump on the road and be there tonight, stay in a hotel, talk to the police there tomorrow.”
She nodded, grateful for a direction and for the downtime too. She wanted to do everything she could to help find the man who’d abducted Tonya Garrett, but at the same time she knew her limitations. She was barely holding herself together right now. Flashes of memories were bombarding her, had been since the moment she’d stood in front of the burned-out girls’ home earlier today. Memories she needed to share with Matt. Because if they were real, her past was even more horrifying than either of them could have possibly known.
Stephens opened the door to his office just as they reached it. He frowned. “You’re leaving?”
“Yes,” Matt said. “We’re going to follow Susan’s lead on the accident. It looks promising.”
“Thank you so much for your help, Detective.” Tessa sounded much more polite and less accusing this time. “Is one of those folders our copy of the file?”
His mouth thinned. He handed her one of the folders and pitched the other one on a nearby desk. “I’ll walk you out.”
Tessa shot Matt a bemused glance and followed Stephens down the hallway.
The last of the sunlight had faded long ago. The overhead lights from the parking lot cast a yellow haze over the entrance as the three of them stepped outside.
“Hold up a minute,” Stephens said. “If you’re serious about looking into that car accident, I can make a call to the Hopkins County sheriff in Madisonville and set up a meeting for you.”
“Thank you. We’d appreciate that,” Tessa said.
“You have my cell phone number,” Matt added.
Stephens nodded. “I’ll call as soon as I set it up.”
Chapter Eleven
* * *
TESSA WAS TOO emotionally drained to allow herself to think about the sister she’d only just realized she’d had. If she dwelled on that right now, and how brutally her sister was taken away from her, she’d be unable to function. And she needed to be able to function, to think, to focus on the case. She didn’t have the luxury of giving in to her emotions right now. Later, when Tonya Garrett was—God willing—safely found, and the Ashes Killer was behind bars, then she’d take out the foggy memories only just now beginning to form in her mind. And she’d weep for the sister she instinctively knew had loved her and protected her the only way she could.
Matt seemed to realize how raw her emotions were right now, because he didn’t talk about the accident or her sister after leaving the police station. Instead, as he drove them to a hotel for the night, he regaled her with funny stories about growing up in a house full of brothers. She hadn’t thought it possible, but by the time they pulled into the parking lot in front of their hotel, he’d managed to lift her mood and make her laugh, and to lock the door on her darker emotions.
At least for now.
“Checking in?” The young girl behind the counter smiled brightly when Tessa and Matt walked into the hotel lobby.
Tessa couldn’t help but notice the girl’s smile was mostly directed at Matt.
“We don’t have a reservation. We’re only staying for one night.” Tessa placed her credit card and ID on the counter.
“Will that be one room or two?”
Matt put his arm around her shoulders. “One room is fine by me, sweetheart,” he whispered in her ear.
Tessa ducked away from him. “Why don’t you get our luggage, dear, while I register for our rooms?”
He sighed dramatically and headed toward the exit.
What was it about him that made her go hot all over when he said such outrageous things? She should have been angry; instead she was tempted to get only one room to see his reaction. She shook her head and turned back toward the counter, just in time to catch the clerk ogling Matt’s tight, sexy backside as he walked outside.
The child looked like she was ready to faint, or jump over the counter and attack him.
Tessa cleared her throat. Loudly.
The clerk flushed a light red and whipped her attention back to her computer screen. “Two rooms then. What name should I put on the second room, Miss James?”
The hopeful look on the girl’s face had Tessa curling her fingers against the countertop. She could well imagine this adolescent knocking on Matt’s door after her shift was over, supposedly to check on him and make sure the room was to his liking.
But that wasn’t why Tessa decided to get just one room, not at all.
One room would make it easier for them to brainstorm and discuss the case. It just made sense. Perfectly logical.
“You misunderstood me.” Tessa gave the girl a catty smile. “We’re together. One room.”
The clerk’s smile dimmed. She glanced pointedly at Tessa’s left hand, which did not have a ring on it. “Of course, Mrs. James. I apologize for the mistake.”
Tessa narrowed her eyes. She was about to correct the little upstart’s sarcastic use of the married title, but since Matt had just walked back inside, carrying his duffel and rolling her suitcase, she decided to let it go in the hope that he hadn’t heard
the exchange.
“Will you two prefer a king-size bed or two doubles, Mrs. James?” The young girl blinked innocently, but Tessa knew she was baiting her on purpose.
Matt gaze Tessa a quizzical look, which turned into a grin when she didn’t correct the married title the clerk had given her.
“Two,” she managed to say between gritted teeth.
The clerk’s smug look had Tessa wanting to reach across the counter and yank her bleached-blonde hair out by the roots.
Oh good grief. She was catfighting with some college-age kid over Matt when she didn’t even want him. Okay, that was a lie. A great, big, fat lie. She shouldn’t want him. And she certainly wasn’t going to do anything with him. But she definitely wanted him.
“There you go. Room two-forty-one. Take the elevator to the second floor, turn right, and your room is at the end of the hall on the left. Have a nice stay. Checkout is at eleven.”
Tessa stared at the key cards on the counter. What was she doing? There was no way she could survive the night in a hotel room with Matt Buchanan. He was hard enough to resist with his clothes on. How was she supposed to get any sleep knowing he was lying in the other bed, just a few feet away? This was madness, and she had to admit defeat here and now or risk disaster.
She cleared her throat. “Actually, I’m afraid there’s been a mis—”
Matt swiped the keys off the countertop and grabbed her hand. Before Tessa could do much more than sputter a weak protest, he whisked her into the elevator.
MATT WHISTLED AS they headed down the long hallway toward their room. Tessa fidgeted with her purse strap, her discomfort increasing with every step. Why was Matt acting so damn happy? Did he actually think she was going to sleep with him? What had she done?
He paused at the door. “Did I mention Stephens called while I was getting our luggage? He set up a meeting for us in the morning with Sheriff Latham.”
“Who’s Sheriff Latham?”
“He was the lead detective in Hopkins County back when you and Sissie had the accident. He investigated the case.” He unlocked the door and held it open. “Here you go, honey. Our room awaits.” He swept out his hand and gave her one of his lethal grins. Then winked.