Forgotten (Shattered Sisters Book 2)

by Maggie Shayne

  There was too much tension, too much confusion inside his head. He cleared his throat as she turned to face him. "You, uh, want to hobble, or ride on my back and let me hop you out of here?"

  She smiled, but it was shaky, uncertain. "I can walk." As if to prove it she took a step, but then gasped audibly.

  He got in front of her, bent his knees and crouched down. "Climb on."

  "Ash—"

  "Don't argue with your husband, lady." He looked over his shoulder at her with mock severity. "Climb on. I’m about half dry already so you won’t get too wet."

  She gripped his neck and slid her legs around his waist. Ash held her soft-skinned legs to his sides. She started to droop, so he reached behind him, palms to backside, and shoved her up higher. "Rrribbit."

  She laughed aloud. "You're crazy, you know that?" He walked with her on his back into the corridor and down it. "No wonder you were so great with Brit in the ambulance. You're just a kid yourself."

  He frowned, remembering the fear in the little girl's huge blue eyes. "I can't stand to see a kid scared, and she was ready to climb the walls in there.”

  "You were afraid a lot when you were growing up, weren't you?" she asked softly, her words pinpointing the most vulnerable target possible.

  Without hesitation he nodded. "Yeah. I was." It wasn't until after he'd confirmed it that he wondered how she'd known.

  She leaned down and brushed her lips across his cheek. "Whatever it was didn't stop you from becoming a hell of a man, Ashville Coye. A hero, in my book. My hero."

  He shook his head. "Poor princess, waiting for a knight on a charger to show up, and instead you got a frog on a lily pad."

  She started to say something, but they emerged into the waiting room then, and Caroline came to meet them. Brittany looked a good deal better, and Bethany's face glowed with joy.

  Both girls lunged for Ash's legs, hugging him fiercely.

  "Can I ride next?" Bethany shouted.

  "No, me," Brittany said. "I'm the one that almost got drowneded."

  "Your Aunt Joey is the one who hurt her leg, so I guess she has you both beat. But when we get back to the house I’ll give you both a turn.”

  Squeals preceded them into an elevator, and then out to Caroline's minivan. Caroline lowered the third row seats, and Ash lowered Joey in through the open hatch door, so she could keep her leg stretched out. And when they reached the house, he scooped her up again and carried her inside. He saw the suitcases near the door and glanced at Caroline.

  "They're ours. I took them out of the car before I left for the hospital."

  Joey's face was tight when Ash lowered her to the sofa. "You should have locked the door, Caroline."

  "Sorry, little sister. I was too busy wondering if you'd survive the trip. Sheesh, at least I thought to toss the groceries into the fridge. Bags and all, but what the heck?"

  Joey's frown deepened. Ash leaned closer to her. "What is it?"

  "I don't know." She shook her head slightly. "Something..."

  "Rides now, Uncle Ash!"

  He turned Joey sideways on the couch, lifting her injured leg onto a pair of throw pillows. “I’m going to make you my super deluxe subs for lunch, you lucky kids.”

  "Go change your clothes first, Ash. I can start the subs," Caroline offered.

  "I'll help—"

  "You will sit there and rest," Ash told Joey. "Doctor's orders." He turned to Caro. "Five minutes." Then he ran upstairs to put on clean clothes. He returned and approached the girls. "Bethany, for courage above and beyond the call of duty, for remembering what you learned in school and calling 911 for your sister, I award you the first ride." He hunkered down and a giggling Bethany climbed onto his back, wrapping her small arms around his neck. "Careful not to choke the old guy now." Ash straightened and began a mock gallop around the living room, into the kitchen and out the other side. All the time, though, as he gave each child a turn, he watched the worry on Joey's face increase. It scared him.

  The subs were made and devoured in record time. When they finished, Caroline stood. "We have to go."

  "Go where?" Joey sat straighter on the couch.

  "Airport. I told you, Joey, the girls and I are going to Miami."

  "You didn't say today!"

  "Well, I was going to, but..." Caroline didn't finish the sentence. A car pulled in, and seconds later the back door thudded open and footsteps came pounding up the stairs.

  Ted stopped in the doorway, his gaze jumping from Caroline to the two girls who were still munching potato chips in the kitchen. His eyes fell closed in apparent relief, and he moved toward Brittany, dropping to his knees and gathering her into his arms.

  "You okay, Brittany? Huh?"

  She nodded hard. "I fell in the river, but Aunt Joey and Uncle Ash swimmed out and got me."

  Ted's arms tightened. He kissed Brit's cheek and put her back in the chair.

  "And I called 911," Bethany put in proudly.

  Ted ruffled her hair. "You're a good girl, Beth." He looked up, met Caroline's gaze. "Were you even going to tell me?"

  "I was going to call—"

  "I should have been there, Caroline. I'm her father."

  "Did you bring your suitcase, Daddy?"

  "Course he did," Bethany told her sister. "See, Mommy, I told you Daddy would come to Grandpa's house with us."

  Caroline bit her lip as Ted's gaze widened. He opened his mouth to speak, but Joey was quicker. "Look, you two obviously need to talk." She slanted a meaningful glance toward the girls. "Alone."

  Ted didn't seem to hear her. He stepped into the living room toward Caroline, shaking his head. "You're leaving?"

  She only nodded, her eyes filling.

  "Caro, this is crazy. I know what you've been thinking, but you're wrong—"

  "Am I?"

  He looked as if he'd been punched. Then his face hardened. He turned on his heel and rushed back down the stairs. Ash wasn't sure why, but he followed. Something about the sudden pain on the guy's face hit him hard, and his instincts read it as real.

  He stopped Ted at the door. "You're just letting her go?"

  Ted's hand tightened on the doorknob. "For now, yes." His voice was choked, and his eyes narrowed in apparent pain when they fell on the suitcases on the floor. "Doesn't look like she's giving me much of a choice."

  Ash sighed hard, pushing a hand through his hair. "You could talk to her. Tell her—"

  "Look, Coye, this really isn't any of your damn business. And with you and Joey up to your elbows in this Slasher thing, I'm beginning to think it isn't a bad idea for Caro to get the hell out of Dodge for a while. At least she'll be safe." He thumped a fist on the door.

  "I wasn't trying to butt in." Ash opened his mouth to say more, then threw his hands in the air. "You're right, it's none of my damn business."

  Ted gripped the door, jerking it open. He started to step through it, then stopped with his back to Ash. "There is no other woman, but Caroline isn't going to believe that. It's her father... Sometimes I'd like to slit that bastard's throat for messing those two up the way he did."

  Then he left, slamming the door behind him. And Ash couldn't help but ponder his parting words. Slit that bastard's throat. Not break his neck, or blow his head off, but slit his throat. Did it mean anything?

  He went back upstairs to see Caroline gathering the girls, apparently ready to leave. “Caroline,” he said, sure he was still overstepping and unable to stop himself. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?" Why did he want so badly to fix this mess? He was letting himself get carried away with his role as a member of this family. Caroline only nodded. "Because you can stay here, you know. I'd hate to think you were going south because of me—"

  "It's better if she goes," Joey announced loudly. Ash frowned. She'd done a complete turnaround since he'd been downstairs with Ted. A few minutes ago, she'd hated the idea of Caroline and the girls leaving.

  Joey glanced at the clock on the wall. "You'd better hurr
y, or you'll miss your flight."

  "She's right, Ash. But thanks for the offer." Caroline hugged her sister, and the girls flung themselves at Ash's legs.

  He picked them up, one in either arm. "All right, then, how about one last ride out to the car?" He spun in a circle as the girls giggled.

  The Slasher had been in her house.

  The sickening sensation had settled in the pit of Joey’s stomach from the second they'd arrived home, but she hadn't been able to pinpoint the source. Then it had hit her all at once. What she was feeling was a presence. Someone was in the house, or had been very recently. Someone with evil intentions.

  And somewhere in the darkest dungeons of her soul, she knew who. And she'd had to get Caroline and the girls away from there.

  As soon as Ash went outside with the girls, she retrieved her gun from its newest hiding place atop a kitchen cabinet, checked to be sure it was loaded and started up the stairs, wincing with every excruciating step. The feeling grew stronger with each second that passed. Before she reached the top she was breathless. Moisture stood on her brow. She held the gun in a two-fisted grip, muzzle up, and glanced around at four closed doors.

  Directly ahead was the guest room she'd designated as the girls' when they visited, filled with toys and coloring books and dolls. To her left was the guest room she'd offered to Ash that first night. To her right, side by side, were the doors to her bedroom and the bath.

  She stood frozen at the top of the stairs, concentrating on those doors, sending out invisible feelers. If she chose poorly, and the killer was still here, she might get caught from behind.

  "Joey?"

  She whirled, gun first. Ash stood on the bottom step. Why did he have to be so quick? She pressed a finger to her lips to silence him and held a palm outward to tell him to stay where he was.

  He came up the stairs, anyway, but he kept his voice low.

  "What the hell is going on?"

  "Someone...has been here. May still be here. I don't know."

  He frowned. "Where?"

  "It's strongest near our room." The words came out that way before she thought to rephrase them. She lifted the gun again, taking a step nearer.

  Ash's hand on her shoulder stopped her. He took the gun from her hands and pushed her back to the wall. "Wait here."

  "Ash, no. You shouldn't even be here. You could get killed." Panic gripped her. She didn't want him anywhere near this dark menace.

  Ash ignored her, stepped forward and shoved the bedroom door open. As he stepped in and looked around, Joey threw the bathroom door wide, afraid the Slasher might have slipped through the adjoining door from the bedroom. No one was there. The tub’s sliding door was open, no one lurked behind it.

  "Joey."

  She hurried to the bedroom at Ash's call and froze in the doorway, half expecting to come face-to-face with evil incarnate. But there was no one there. She stood, trembling while Ash checked the other rooms. When he came back to her, he didn't speak. He just looked at her, waiting.

  "You think I'm crazy."

  He shook his head. "No. I think you're nervous, jumping at shadows, terrified for your sister and, for some reason, for me, too. What I don't know is why." She said nothing. "Joey, talk to me, tell me what made you think someone was—"

  "I don't think it, I know it. Someone was in this house while we were gone."

  His voice became placating. He moved closer, stroked her hair. "Honey, you've been through a rough day. There's no one here. There's nothing missing. Look around, everything is just as we—"

  He stopped there, his muscles slowly tensing under the skin where her hands rested. She turned, followed his gaze and saw the laptop opened on the dresser. The flash drive that had been in the USB port was gone.

  Joey drew a sharp breath, feeling, for just an instant, the distinct sensation of an ice-cold blade tearing across her back.

  What was that?

  Then Ash was touching her, his hands on her shoulders. "We won't touch anything. There might be prints."

  "No." She leaned back against him, letting his warmth chase the cold, tearing feeling from her shoulder blades. "There were gloves. Black, kid-leather gloves, with two little buttons..." She held up a hand and touched the back of her wrist. "Right here." She could feel the gloves, too tight on her hands. Only they were not her hands at all.

  Her eyes flew wide. "Where is Caroline?"

  "On her way to the airport. Safe and sound. Now dammit, Joey, tell me what the hell is going on. Who wears gloves? Who is it you think was in here?"

  She sniffed, trying frantically to control the fit of violent shaking that began at her fingertips and raced its way up her arms to her shoulders, down her spine to her legs. She couldn't say it. She couldn't tell him that his murderer was getting closer. God, she didn't want to lose him. It was so much more important now. More than just a means to stop the Slasher before Caroline became a victim.

  She turned into Ash's arms, clung to him. "We have to get out of this house."

  Chapter Eight

  * * *

  Radley Ketchum's office at the Chronicle was little more than four stark walls, every one of them sporting a photo of his wife in better days, surrounding a paper explosion. He paced toward the closed door, then back again, and handed the coral-frost lipstick back to Ash. Ash took it and shoved an overflowing ashtray aside before sitting on the edge of the desk.

  "You could get your ass tossed behind bars for evidence tampering, Coye." It was little more than a harsh whisper, delivered as Rad glanced over his shoulder. "You know better than this crap."

  Ash dropped the small cylinder back into his pocket, trying not to think about what the lipstick's presence in Joey's makeup bag might mean. He was guilty of more than evidence tampering. He was obstructing an investigation, and he knew it. He glanced beyond Rad, through the glass in the office door, and saw Joey on the other side. She clutched a ceramic mug with steam rolling off the top and sat on the edge of the little chair in front of Ash's desk. One foot tapped rapidly on the floor. One hand, the one that wasn't holding the mug, kept flexing and relaxing on her wounded thigh. She'd have been pacing if she could have managed it

  "Look at her, Rad."

  Radley turned his head slowly and stared for a moment. "Yeah. I get it. She doesn't look like a killer, but—"

  "Not that. Look at her face. Her eyes. That's one scared woman sitting out there." Ash shook his head. "She won't go back to her house, wouldn't even stick around and wait for the police to show up."

  Rad shook his head slowly, facing Ash once more. "Yeah, but scared of what?"

  "Of the Slasher, I think."

  "Or maybe scared of getting caught. Maybe she's scared you're close to finding out she's the Slasher." Rad shook his head, crossed the room slowly and straightened a photograph of his wife.

  “How’s Amelia doing, Rad?”

  Radley lowered his head, shook it slowly. “It’s just a matter of making what time she has left as easy on her as I can.”

  “Dammit, I’m sorry.”

  Rad shook his head hard, turning away from the photo. “Let’s stay focused here. I understand you wanting to protect this woman. It’s pretty clear to me you’ve got feelings for her.” Ash opened his mouth to argue, but no words emerged. “Use your brain, Ash. Why would she be afraid of the Slasher? All five victims have been men."

  "Four, Rad."

  "What?"

  "Four victims. You said five, but there's only been—"

  "Four, five—what difference does it make? There'll be more. The police haven't got much to go on, and you're hiding anything they might get to go on. They're getting desperate."

  "That's what I'm afraid of." Ash jumped down from the desk and walked closer to the door. "They need a suspect even if it's just to take the heat off for a while, and I'll be damned if it's going to be Joey. They could ruin her life, Rad, all on the basis of one tube of lipstick."

  "The same brand, even the same shade of lipstick th
at ringed every one of those cigarette butts at the crime scenes. And no trace of DNA on any of them.”

  "It’s coincidence. Look, I can't stand by and let her get railroaded."

  "Why the hell not?" That Rad's patience was reaching its limit was evidenced by the deep color rising in his face and the tightening of his jaw. "It's due process. If she's innocent she'll be cleared, and if not she'll pay. That's the way the system works, isn't it? You can’t cover up her crimes just because you’re sleeping with her.”

  Ash had him by the collar before he could finish the sentence. Two fists bunched Rad's dingy white shirt at the front and drew him forward.

  "See what I mean, Ash?" Rad ground the words out between clenched teeth as Ash glared at him, wanting to knock out a few of his teeth. "You're not objective anymore. You're messing around with evidence, protecting a suspect, risking your job...." He glanced pointedly down at the fists that held his shirt, and Ash sighed hard, releasing him.

  "You're wrong." Ash turned and paced away slowly. "Not that it's any of your business, Rad, but I haven't slept with her. And I'm on top of this story. Objectivity intact."

  Rad was silent a long moment, then, "I don't think so, Ash. I'm going to put Harris on the Slasher case."

  Ash whirled. "The hell you are!"

  "You aren't yourself. You're—"

  "Quitting."

  Rad's mouth fell open, the rest of his sentence left hanging unfinished in the air, silenced by a single word.

  "That's it. Your choice. Give the story to Harris, and I walk. And if I walk, you'll probably be behind me in the unemployment line, because the paper will fire you for losing their star reporter. Now what's it gonna be, Rad?"

  Radley's eyes conveyed his anger. He didn't like being backed up to the wall, but Ash was saying no more than the truth, and Rad knew it. "What are you planning, besides trailing along after her like a hungry pup and hoping she drops you a crumb?"

  Ash glared right back at him. "Go to hell, Rad."

  "Damn you, Coye—"

  "All right." Ash held up one hand. "Truce, okay?"