Conflicting Evidence (The Mighty McKenzies Series Book 3)

by LENA DIAZ,

  “Peyton.”

  She turned to see Colin standing by the island that separated the kitchen from the family room.

  “Colin!” She jumped up from the couch.

  The chief grabbed her hand to keep her from leaving. “Miss Sterling. We aren’t through here.”

  She shook him off. “Yes. We are.” She jogged across the family room and would have thrown her arms around Colin in relief that he was okay, except that his chalky-looking face reminded her that he wasn’t.

  “Oh, Colin. You’re so pale. You must be in terrible pain. What did the EMTs say was wrong? Shouldn’t you be at the hospital? Where do you keep the medicine around here? I can get you some ibuprofen. If you don’t have any, I should have some in my—”

  “Peyton. We need to talk.” He looked over the top of her head. “Alone. In my office.” He took her hand and tugged her with him through the family room, around the couch grouping.

  Landry stood and started toward them. “Marshal McKenzie, I’m in the middle of interviewing Miss Sterling. I need to ask you some questions as well.”

  “It can wait.”

  His tone brooked no argument. The chief stopped and fell silent as they passed. But the thunderous look on his face told Peyton just how furious he was. She didn’t look forward to answering more of his questions.

  Colin didn’t seem to care one whit about Landry’s anger. He completely ignored him as he turned down the back hall, his long strides forcing Peyton to jog to keep up with him.

  She’d never seen him like this before. His profile looked etched in stone. His jaw was clamped so tight that the skin whitened along his jawline. Dread settled in her belly, making the earlier butterflies seem tame in comparison. Every instinct inside her told her to run, far away, that she didn’t want to hear whatever it was that he was about to tell her.

  He shoved the office door open and pulled her inside. A massive glass-and-wrought-iron desk sat in front of the window with two wing chairs across from it. A black leather love seat that matched the couches in the family room backed up against a wall of bookshelves on the left side of the room. He closed and locked the door, then pulled her to the love seat.

  “Sit down, Peyton.”

  She stared up at him. “Colin, I don’t—”

  “Please.”

  She slowly lowered herself to the love seat and perched on the edge, her hands clasped together. He sat close beside her and covered her hands with his own. His thumb gently stroked across their fingers, his gaze downcast, his throat working as if he was struggling to find the right words to destroy her world.

  In spite of her vow not to cry, a single tear escaped and traced down her cheek. “It’s Brian, isn’t it?” she said in a hoarse whisper. “Just say it, Colin. The wondering is driving me crazy.”

  He lifted his head.

  She gasped at the raw pain in their stormy blue depths. “No. Oh, no. Brian.”

  His expression turned to anguish. “I went into the woods, saw the body myself. I had to be sure.”

  “Then Brian is—”

  “No. The man who died tonight wasn’t Brian. It was your father. And I’m the one who killed him.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Colin leaned against one of the posts on his front porch, watching the sun coming up over the mountains, and Peyton driving down the mountain in her banged-up white Ford Escape that had definitely seen better days.

  A few minutes later, Duncan pulled his work Jeep to a halt in front of the garage. He hopped out and crossed to the porch, propping one of his boots against the bottom step. “Did I just pass Peyton?”

  “You probably did. It’s Wednesday, for goodness sakes. The middle of the week. Don’t you ever work anymore?”

  “I could say the same about you.”

  “I’m still on vacation.”

  “And I’ve been falling asleep at my desk with nothing to do since the park is still locked up tight. When are your fellow marshals going to do their jobs and catch Brian and his co-thugs so things can get back to normal?”

  “I doubt they’ll ever get back to normal,” Colin mumbled.

  “What did you say?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Uh-huh.” Duncan motioned down the road. “I don’t recall seeing her SUV in your pristine garage when I stopped by the day after the shooting.”

  “Landry had to finally accept that Brian wasn’t dumb enough to return to the Sterling household, so he sent Officer Simmons packing. He had a couple of his men bring Peyton’s SUV up here so she could drive home when she was ready.”

  “I don’t remember Landry being that accommodating in the past.”

  “He usually isn’t,” Colin agreed. “But after Peyton called 911 even though she knew her brother could have been the one shooting at me, and she risked her life trying to save me, she won over the hearts of a lot of law-enforcement guys around here, including the chief. Plus, I think he feels bad for her since she lost her father. He mentioned that she reminds him of his youngest granddaughter.”

  “Landry procreated. Who knew? Hey, speaking of dear old Dad, have you and Peyton worked through that?”

  Colin shifted against the post, grimacing when his ribs sent up a jolt of pain in protest. At least they were only bruised, as the X-rays had confirmed. That was one thing to be thankful for. “Peyton claims she doesn’t blame me for what happened.”

  “Claims? You don’t believe her?”

  They’d barely spoken to each other since he’d told her that he was responsible for her father’s death. Her grief was too raw, too close to the surface. Nearly every time he’d said anything to her, she’d started crying and walked out of the room.

  “I’m guessing that’s a no,” Duncan said. “Has anyone figured out why her father was in the woods behind your house?”

  Colin shrugged. “Gun powder residue tests were negative, so he wasn’t the shooter. Other than that, I have no idea.”

  “Shooter? Singular? There was only one?”

  “That’s the consensus, although I haven’t been able to tell Peyton.” It was difficult to have that kind of conversation with someone who left the room every time he brought up the subject of her family. “There were only two sets of shoe prints—Mr. Sterling and someone else.” Colin swatted at a horsefly out looking for an easy meal. It took off, searching for another target.

  “Meaning Sterling junior was our shooter.”

  “Most likely.” Colin checked his watch and frowned.

  “Well at least the ambush makes more sense now,” Duncan said. “From what I’ve heard, Brian blames you for everything from him being in prison to the marshals having the gall to keep searching for him. I can imagine his warped mind wanting revenge against you. What I can’t understand is why he’d shoot at Peyton. I thought they were close.”

  “He didn’t. The CSU guys confirmed the bullet trajectories, that all the shots from the woods were fired at the other side of the building, where I was. When she shot towards the woods, he was probably ducking for cover, assuming that I was the one shooting. I don’t think he ever saw her. I was his only target.”

  Duncan tapped his boot, slowly nodding as if he was mulling everything over and putting the pieces together. As a criminal investigator, he often brainstormed with Colin about things going on at either of their workplaces. He was seldom wrong in his conclusions.

  “Okay, how about this for a scenario?” Duncan asked. “Little brother and the other numbskulls split up, each of them trying to find their own way out of the mountains around the roadblocks. But Brian can’t get out. He’s frustrated, breaks into a parked car or someone’s cabin and steals a phone. Then he does what he’s always done when things don’t go his way—he calls Daddy to come rescue him. They both decide to enact a little vengeance on the man they feel is responsible for their woes and come up here to ki
ll you.”

  “Pretty much what I came up with too. The part where Sterling senior wants to help his son kill me feels a bit off though. I have a hard time envisioning the father as a bloodthirsty criminal. But I haven’t come up with a better explanation.”

  “Wait, you built this house long after the Sterlings moved away. And like most of us in law enforcement, you don’t broadcast personal details like your home address on social media or anything. So how would Brian have known where you live?”

  Colin started to cross his arms, then thought better of it when his ribs protested.

  Duncan stared up at him, eyes widening. “Peyton told him, didn’t she? I can’t believe it. That little traitor. I should go arrest her right now. As a matter of fact, I think I will.” He turned around and stalked toward his Jeep.

  “Knock it off, Duncan. You can’t arrest her for talking to her father on the phone. She admitted she called to check on him after she arrived, and that she told him where she was staying. She had no reason to expect that her father would come here. And no one would have predicted that he and his son would decide to join forces and cause trouble.”

  Duncan turned around. “Cause trouble? They tried to murder you.”

  “Let it go.” Colin checked his watch again. “And stop blaming Peyton. You know she could never purposely hurt anyone.”

  Duncan gestured down the road. “She’s leaving you again. So much for not hurting anyone.”

  “Knock it off. I’m a big boy and can take care of myself. Besides, you need to cut her some slack. It’s not like her life is all puppies and rainbows right now. Her mother died three months ago. Her brother is on the run. And her father was just killed.”

  Duncan shook his head. “I want to hate her for not sticking around. But you’re right. I can’t. Heck, we all grew up together. Mom still reminisces sometimes about the old days and talks about how she wishes things could have been different, that Peyton was still around.” He spread his hands out in a helpless gesture. “I guess I’ll be there to support her along with you at her father’s funeral. When is it?”

  “There isn’t going to be one. When the coroner releases the body, it will be shipped to Memphis. Peyton said she’s going to have a private memorial, ‘private’ meaning just her. Anything else seems inappropriate after everything that’s happened. Her words, not mine. When she left here, she said she was going to the Sterling house to clean out the refrigerator and pack her things. Then she’s heading to Memphis to close up her father’s house and find a new place to live.”

  Duncan stared up at him, then slowly mounted the steps. “Then it’s really over between you two? She’s not coming back to Gatlinburg?”

  Colin shook his head.

  “Well, that makes this really awkward.” He pulled a small box out of his suit jacket pocket and tossed it to Colin.

  Colin held it up, then shot his brother a glance. “Condoms? You brought me a box of condoms?”

  Duncan shrugged. “When two ex-lovers experience a life-or-death situation, one would expect that would bring them closer together. Thus, you know, the need for...protection. I thought I was doing you a favor. My timing, and apparently my instincts in that department, are a bit off.”

  “Apparently.” Colin shook his head and shoved the box into his pants pocket for lack of anywhere else to put it.

  “Guess I should go inside and take the whiskey now,” Duncan said.

  “Do and you die.”

  Duncan smiled and leaned against the opposite post. “Man, I can’t believe she’s actually leaving Gatlinburg. Again. What about her shop downtown?”

  “She’s giving it to her employees, along with some seed money to help them through until it’s more profitable. She isn’t sure what she’s going to do but she wants a fresh start.”

  He arched a brow. “You sure I don’t need to grab the whiskey?”

  “I’m fine, Duncan. Knock it off.” He wasn’t fine of course. But he wasn’t going to bare his soul to his brother out on his front porch. And this wasn’t over, none of it, until he had Brian Sterling locked up again. Then he’d have to pick up the pieces and face whatever future he had—somehow.

  “I imagine you’ll be going back to work then, with Peyton out of the picture and the other marshals combing the mountains searching for our gang of fugitives.”

  “Nope. After the shooting, I have more incentive than ever to catch Brian. I haven’t quit just yet.”

  “With all due respect for your great track record with locating fugitives, what makes you think you can do better than our law-enforcement brothers who are out looking for him right now?”

  Colin glanced at his watch again. “I have something they don’t.”

  “What would that be?”

  “A GPS tracker on one of those fugitive’s sister’s SUV.”

  Duncan straightened. “I’m guessing that watch you keep checking isn’t just a watch.”

  “Nope.”

  “Peyton didn’t go to the Sterling homestead to clean out the refrigerator did she?”

  “Didn’t even slow down when she drove past the house. She’s heading north toward town right now.” Colin yanked his keys out of his pocket.

  Duncan looked at him accusingly. “You thought she was innocent, that she wasn’t helping her brother. So, why put a tracker on her car?”

  “She is innocent. But she’s also down to one family member and is an emotional wreck. I figure she’s desperate enough to try to find him on her own before heading out of town. She’ll think she’s saving his life. If she does find him, I want to be there.”

  Duncan nodded his agreement. “To put Brian away.”

  “To protect Peyton. I programmed my phone number into her phone and told her to call me if she needs me. But I’m not sure she’ll even realize that she’s in danger if she manages to stumble across her brother. She wouldn’t in a million years expect Brian to hurt her. I’m not nearly as trusting.” He headed down the steps, forced to go slowly because of his ribs. “I’ll call you later, let you know how it plays out.”

  “I strongly suggest that you let Landry or your fellow marshals handle this.”

  Colin looked back over his shoulder. “And tell them what? That I put a GPS tracker on my ex-girlfriend’s car without her knowledge? That I’d like them to follow her just in case she meets up with her fugitive brother instead of, say, a new boyfriend? Does that sound a little stalker-ish to you?”

  Duncan grinned. “When you put it that way, it’s probably best that you don’t mention it.”

  “Like I said, I’ll call you later.” He headed toward the garage.

  Duncan hurried after him, pulling his phone out. “No way am I letting you do this alone. You need backup, just in case everything goes to hell again. And with the Sterlings, it usually does.”

  Colin entered a code on the keypad beside the garage and the door started up. He gestured toward the National Park Jeep. “That ugly monstrosity is in my way.”

  “You’re just jealous that you don’t have a green stripe down the side of your truck and a really cool arrowhead shaped emblem on your door.”

  “Yeah. That’s it.” Colin rolled his eyes.

  “I’ll move it. But don’t even think about leaving without me.” He raised his phone, then hesitated. “What am I going to tell my boss?”

  Colin looked back. “Tell him the truth. You’re going hunting.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Peyton patted the front and back pockets of her jeans again, mentally inventorying their contents as she approached the football field.

  Quit acting so jumpy and nervous. He could be watching.

  She forced herself to drop her hands to her sides and took several slow, deep breaths before sitting on the bottom row of the concrete bleachers. They were harder and less forgiving than she remembered. Then again, at
eighteen, she probably wouldn’t have noticed things like that. She’d been too busy noticing Colin McKenzie.

  She glanced up and down the chain-link fence separating the bleachers from the field and the thick woods circling the area. The fence was in sad disrepair. Rusty top rails had popped out of their brackets in several places. In others, the rails were bent into deep Vs in the middle, as if the entire football team had used them as springboards to hop over the fence. Maybe they had. But as far as she could tell, the section directly in front of her was intact, which was why she’d chosen this particular spot to sit.

  Come on, Brian. You have to be here. Because I don’t know where else to look.

  Since deciding at the last minute to go searching for him, she’d spent the entire day driving around town checking restaurants, stores, movie theaters. She’d even wasted an hour in Ripley’s Aquarium, convinced he’d be there, somewhere. After all, that was where she and Brian would often go to de-stress when the fighting at home was too intense. But she hadn’t even caught a glimpse of that familiar spikey blond hair or those silver-gray eyes so like her own. And her father’s.

  Oh, Daddy.

  She breathed through the pain, ruthlessly locking away her emotions. She had to keep it together. Her family of four was down by half. If something happened to Brian, her family would no longer exist. She couldn’t bear that, which was why she’d ended up here.

  When she hadn’t found her brother at any of his favorite spots, it had dawned on her that it was probably because he’d seen the police checking those same places. If he was on the run, and needed to disappear, then he’d try to hide where no one would ever expect him to go, somewhere he hated. And she couldn’t think of any place he hated more than where he’d been picked on and bullied for four years—Gatlinburg–Pittman High School.

  For her, this had been a happy place, a magical place. Because this was where she and Colin had fallen in love. They’d first met in the second grade, when she’d been taller than him and had ruthlessly chased him around the playground. After that, they’d been inseparable, a tomboy and her best friend who just happened to be a boy. They’d explored the woods, climbed tall trees that swayed in the wind and gotten a week’s worth of extra chores as punishment when their parents found out.