Don't Say a Word

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Don't Say a Word Page 2

by Amber Lynn Natusch


  “That’s where I went. I’m so sorry I forgot to leave you a note.” He nodded once, accepting my apology. “He’s awake now,” I continued. “I was there when he came to.”

  “He gonna be all right?”

  “Yes—I mean, he’s still pretty banged up, but he was talking and making sense. His memory of that night is pretty clear, which is good because the doctors were worried about that.”

  “The boy’s body was beaten to a pulp. He’s damn lucky he’s alive. Forgettin’ things could have been the least of his worries.” He hesitated for a beat. “Yours too…”

  Those two words hung there between us, an almost physical barrier. We’d never had anything get in the way of our relationship, and the thought of the choice I’d made to go after Donovan dividing us hurt more than I could express. Sorry was never going to be enough for what I’d done. And it wasn’t going to be enough for things I was likely going to do.

  “I love you, Gramps.”

  “Aw, Kylene, you know I love you more than life itself, but the parts of you you got from your daddy are gonna put me in an early grave. You gotta be smart about the battles you fight and the ones you walk away from. You can’t right all the wrongs in this world. Ain’t no man alive that can.”

  I choked on a laugh, my throat tight with emotions.

  “Guess it’s a good thing I’m not a man then, huh?”

  He smiled and shook his head as I dragged my sleeve across my face to catch the tears that had finally escaped. As much as I hated to admit it, Gramps was right. I did need to be smarter about who I took on and who I let be. I needed to rein in that fiery temper of mine before I really got into trouble. The kind you don’t walk away from. Ever.

  “Girl, you are a piece of work, I swear.…”

  “But I’m all yours.”

  “That you are.”

  I forced a smile before heading toward the front door. I had it halfway open when Gramps’ words halted me.

  “You been over to see your daddy yet?” he asked, the clear ring of knowing in his tone. He was aware I hadn’t been and was testing me. He rarely if ever did that, and the fact that he’d chosen that moment and that subject to bust out his subtle interrogation style gave me the chills.

  “No. Not yet, but I talked to him a few days ago. I told him everything that happened.”

  “Everything?”

  “I mean, I’m sure I unintentionally left out some details, but yes … as much as I could think to at the time.”

  “You need to see him, Kylene.” Not a request, but a demand from Gramps.

  Hell was getting frosty.

  “I will soon, I promise.”

  “Good. Now, go do whatever homework you need to before bed.”

  “I’m on it.”

  “Atta girl. I’ll be in soon.”

  He turned his gaze to the sunset and rested his head back in the chair. Again, my heart fell to my stomach. He looked so much older—so stressed. Knowing that I was a big part of that filled me with guilt. The fact that I knew I was likely to cause him more before I solved my father’s case made me feel worse.

  With that albatross around my neck, I pushed the door open and stepped into our modest home. A cling-wrapped plate sat on the kitchen counter waiting for me, so I grabbed it along with a fork and made my way down the hall to my small den-turned-bedroom. I flopped down on the bed and crossed my legs, propping the plate in my lap. I ate in silence, contemplating what the next day would bring.

  For various reasons, I hadn’t been back to school the week after the attack. Between Donovan’s arraignment, my injuries, police interrogations, and a general desire to avoid the backlash of an all but ruined football season, Gramps and I thought it best I lay low for a bit. Unfortunately for me, there were standardized tests coming up that I couldn’t miss.

  I wasn’t looking forward to going back to Jasperville High. Though my return should have been easier, I knew it wouldn’t be. The stares and whispers would remain, even if the reasons for both were different. With Donovan’s arrest, the football team lost an integral player. Our season would rest solely on the strengths of our offensive line—and AJ, our quarterback. Since I had inadvertently led to Donovan’s incarceration, I was clearly to blame. The fact that he’d nearly killed Garrett and me seemed to get lost in the articles about him. It was crazy how quickly the narrative turned from drug abuse and attempted murder to lost games and crushed hopes of a state championship run.

  With the potential fallout swirling in my mind, I focused on the one positive I’d find within the walls of JHS—Tabby. My female partner in crime. The lanky redhead from Canada. Tabby had a way of making everything seem better—and that was something I desperately needed.

  THREE

  Gramps called down the hall to tell me he was headed to the store for groceries and that he’d be back in a bit. The second I heard the door close, I put my homework away and pulled out the witness list from my father’s case, cross-referencing it with the court transcripts and depositions I’d spread out across the bed. Something about one of them didn’t quite add up. A vagrant in the area had allegedly heard the entire event unravel. But reading through his testimony and the questions asked by my father’s attorney, a niggling sensation crawled along the back of my mind. His replies sounded a little too perfect. Too practiced.

  And entirely fishy.

  With highlighter in hand, I started to mark up the records in front of me along with the photos that were submitted into evidence of the crime scene. When I was done, I took a step back to survey them. Then a knock at the front door interrupted my work.

  I stormed down the hallway to the door. I didn’t bother to look through the peephole before opening it, instead choosing to just throw it open and scowl at whoever was waiting on the other side. That scowl deepened when I found rookie FBI agent Cedric Dawson standing there, looking smug as ever. “I’ve never been more disappointed to not find a Jehovah’s Witness on my porch,” I said. My expression did little to hide my irritation at his presence.

  He’d been calling and texting since Donovan’s arraignment. I’d been avoiding him like the plague, hoping this moment would never come.

  “Nice to see you, too, Danners. You alone?” I made a big show of looking back into the house and then at the only car parked in my driveway. He seemed to take the hint. “Good. We need to talk. We have to hammer out the details of our cover story.”

  “You mean your cover story. I don’t need one, remember? You made that very clear when you dropped this bomb of insanity on me.”

  “It’s not insane. It’s genius, and it’s going to make it easier to catch whoever is behind this underage sex ring and put him behind bars sooner than later. I thought you’d want that. Isn’t that your thing: justice for those who can’t get it for themselves?”

  His smug delivery had me taking a cleansing breath and reminding myself that assaulting a federal officer was a serious offense. But so was having to put up with Dawson’s sense of superiority. Maybe if I only punched him once, they’d call it even.

  Then again, maybe not.

  Instead of replying, I took a step back and swept my arm out in a grand gesture for him to enter. He laughed as he stepped through the door, shaking his head.

  “You’re going to have to drop the hostile act if we’re going to pull this off, Danners.”

  “It’s hardly an act, and you’re going to have to stop calling me by my last name if you want anyone to believe we used to date, Dawson.”

  He smiled at me, but there was little joy in it—kinda like the man himself.

  “Used to?” he asked. “You mean ‘are currently dating,’ right, Kylene? That’s my cover.”

  “Were you dropped on your head as a child? We’re exes, remember? That’s the story I gave Garrett when you met—Tabby too—and that story is going to stay.”

  “Why would I be transferring to your school if we’re exes?”

  “That’s your story to write, not mine,” I sa
id, walking away. “Besides, doesn’t most of the sheriff’s department know who you are after you interrogated Dr. Carle? How are you going to keep a lid on that?”

  “I’m not. The head of the bureau for Ohio, Special Agent in Charge Bob Wilson, will.” I stopped in my tracks to turn and face him. “He’s already been to visit Sheriff Higgins and his crew. He threatened them with prison time if my identity was leaked. Apparently he made quite an impression.”

  “I bet,” I said, remembering just how intimidating that man could be. He was tough but fair, and had done everything he could for my father until even he couldn’t refute the evidence against him. I had no doubt that the sheriff and his minions weren’t going brush off Agent Wilson’s warning. “So what else do I need to know, if all that’s covered? I have things to do and Gramps will be home soon. This can’t take forever.” He slipped his leather jacket off and threw it onto Grams’ well-worn recliner, then kicked off his shoes. “By all means, make yourself at home.”

  “Thanks,” he said, heading for the sofa in the living room. With a lazy, graceful move, he plopped himself down on it, draping his arms along the back edge in man-sprawl fashion. It was impossible not to notice his roguish good looks—from his focused hazel eyes to his long, toned frame and perfectly styled brown hair—but eye-candy status aside, he still irritated the hell out of me.

  Even if he had saved my life.

  I walked behind him, rounding the arm of the couch to sit as far away from him as possible.

  Looking at him, it was hard to see the young FBI agent that had come to my aid the night Donovan tried to kill me. He’d risked his life to cross a flooded bridge just to get to me, even though I seemed to be little more than a thorn in his side. That was the thing about Dawson that I just couldn’t figure out. One minute, he looked at me like he loathed my existence. The next, he was putting his life in danger to save me. Maybe his sense of justice was just as strong and reckless as mine. Maybe we weren’t so different after all.

  Except I wasn’t a smug bastard who thought my father was guilty and he most certainly was. There was still that.

  “So here’s the deal: We started dating after you moved away to Columbus. We were off and on at first because your temper and my aloof nature were like fire and gasoline, but we got close after everything with your father started. It really solidified our relationship.”

  “Ha!” I barked out my response so loud that I startled myself.

  “Anyway,” he continued, looking annoyed. “I come from a rich family—”

  “Of course you do—”

  “My parents are both in big business and are gone a lot. I’m eighteen and on my own most of the time. When I heard about the attack, I told them I was transferring schools for the rest of the year. They grudgingly agreed. The only reason we broke up was because you knew you were going to have to move and couldn’t handle the pressure of long distance along with everything going on with your dad. I think that story will be believable. I don’t think anyone in this town will question it.”

  “Wow, are you actually trying to be an asshole right now, or does it just come this naturally?”

  “The latter,” he replied without pause. “So, this will explain why you didn’t mention me to your friends here or your grandfather—it hurt too much.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why you’re moving here to go to school.”

  “I’m worried about you,” he said. “And we’re trying to get back together. That shouldn’t be so hard to sell.”

  “Clearly you don’t know my friends. They can smell bullshit from ten miles away.”

  “Then I guess you’d better be on your A-game.”

  I pinned my deadliest stare on him. He didn’t even flinch.

  “So you’re saying your cover story is that you’re worried about my safety so you moved down here to keep an eye on me?” He nodded. “Yeah … that’s not creepy at all.”

  “I’d been in boarding schools in the past. My parents don’t care if I’m around or not. It makes total sense.”

  “I guess.…”

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  “Yeah. You could just be the new kid.”

  “I could, but I know your feelings about me are too strong to act like you don’t know me. You can’t hide that level of intensity, Danners. And since Garrett and Tabby know me as your ex, you’re kinda stuck with being part of my cover.”

  He was right, and I hated him for it.

  “Why do you even have to go undercover? What are you trying to find at JHS?”

  He stared at me for a moment, clearly assessing if he should tell me or not—if it was a small price to pay for my role in closing his case.

  “There’s a girl—the recruiter. She’s the one bringing the girls in. We’re pretty sure she works directly with whoever’s in charge. I need to find her.”

  I had no flippant response to that one. Knowing that one of my fellow students was involved in the exploitation of others made my skin crawl. I wanted to find her just as badly as he did.

  “Fine. I’ll be a part of this ridiculous charade, but only if I get to help with the case.”

  “Absolutely not!”

  “Then no deal, Dawson. Find your own way.”

  “Even if I wanted to let you in, I don’t have the authority to do that.”

  “Whatever. Those are my terms, Dawson. I either get to help or you’re on your own. It’s that simple.”

  His expression was murderous.

  “Are you really that childish? You’d risk these girls’ safety for your own gain?”

  “Not childish. Practical. Don’t forget, I brought down a prescription drug ring on my own and found out that there’s some sociopathic Wizard of Oz out there pulling criminals’ strings. Hell, I handed you the lead that broke open the case that you’re now undercover on. I’m good at this, whether you want to admit it or not. So, I’ll help you if you help me.”

  “I don’t have the authority to do that,” he repeated, no shortage of anger heating his face.

  The smile that crept across mine was full of challenge.

  “Afraid to break the rules a bit for the greater good, Dawson?”

  “Your father broke the rules, Danners. That didn’t work out so well for him.”

  “My father,” I shouted, launching myself up from the couch, “was framed somehow—forced to shoot Reider—and I’m going to prove it.” I stormed to my room to retrieve the trial evidence that was sprawled out in an organized mess. “Look!” I said as I walked back to the living room and jammed my finger at the transcript of the vagrant’s deposition. “Read this. Doesn’t this seem a bit convenient to you? That a man with no history of military or police training was able to keep his wits about him when he heard a gunshot right near where he slept? That he actually stayed and remembered the events so clearly that he could account for this much detail?”

  I stared at Dawson’s profile as he read the text in question. Wrinkles formed at the corners of his eyes as they narrowed, focusing on the paper.

  “Even if what you’re saying is true, that he lied about what he saw or was fed this information, it hardly negates the mountain of evidence showing that your father was sabotaging federal cases.”

  “If what I’m saying is true, then that’s grounds for a mistrial—possibly charges of witness tampering and coercion.”

  He turned to face me, a mess of emotions warring in his eyes.

  “You’re fighting a losing battle with this, Danners. You know that, right? Maybe it’s time you surrender the childish fantasy that your father is some noble enforcer of the law and entertain the idea that he actually did what he was convicted of because he was about to be indicted for various other crimes.”

  “No.” My voice was cold and angry, my answer final.

  He shook his head, putting the paper back down. “You’re going to make yourself crazy doing this, you know that, right?”

  “Maybe, but no crazier than I’ll be if I do
nothing.” His expression softened just a touch. “Tell me you wouldn’t do the same if your mentor was in my father’s shoes. That you wouldn’t be trying to prove his innocence.” His lack of immediate reply spoke volumes.

  “Okay, Danners. Here’s the deal I’ll make you: You keep my cover story and I’ll keep you apprised of how the case is going. No major details. No investigating. Maybe I’ll let you get me coffee on occasion—”

  “And you’ll listen to any evidence I find to exonerate my father.” Not a question—a demand.

  His eyes narrowed. “Fine. But this is a one-time offer, Danners. Take it or leave it.”

  I could tell by the tone of his voice and the set of his jaw that he hated offering me anything at all. Inside, I did a little victory dance.

  “I’ll take it.”

  “Good. Now, let’s iron out a few more details before I show up at school tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Yes. Tomorrow.”

  I exhaled heavily and flopped back onto the couch.

  For the next few minutes, we went over our extensive backstory, ranging from first kiss to favorite foods to craziest stories. By the time we finished, I was exhausted. If I’d gone along with his original dating cover story, I’d have already wanted to break up.

  “You need to watch out for Tabby,” I said as he slipped his coat back on, preparing to leave. “She’s goofy but she’s smart. Surprisingly astute. Your life will be easier if you get on her good side.”

  “Noted.”

  “And Garrett will be super protective of me—once he’s back.” I couldn’t hide the sadness I felt when I said his name.

  “He should be. That’s what friends are for,” he said with conviction. I nodded as he stepped toward the door. “Anyone else I need to watch out for?”

  I hesitated, not wanting to bring up AJ.

  “Yeah. AJ Miller—my other ex-boyfriend. I think it’s fair to say he still has feelings for me. I’m not sure how he’s going to react, having my most recent ex trying to win me back. We broke up because I thought he was the one that took those topless pictures of me. Then I found out it was Donovan. That asshole taunted me with the truth right before you showed up.”

 

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