by Vanessa Vale
Perhaps it had, but it seemed I’d needed a little distracting, and needed it for the rest of my life.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he shouted.
I stepped back at his sudden shift from his usual slightly aggressive tone to anger. His face turned red and a vein bulged at his temple. It only drew my eye to his receding hairline.
“No, I’m done. I’m sorry, Mark, but that accident finished me.”
He looked to my leg, as if he could see my knee through my jeans. “You said you had almost full range of motion and that you’re cleared.”
“I am.”
“Then let’s go.” He thumbed over his shoulder toward the door. “We can be in the Springs by morning.”
I shook my head and stepped back again, bumped into the couch.
“I said no. I’m done. You can go to the Springs, but I’m not going with you.”
His eyes narrowed and he advanced on me. “You uppity bitch. I’m your coach. You don’t say when you’re done. I do.”
I should have been pissed at him like I had been with Cy for bossing me around. With Cy, I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t afraid he’d hurt me. But Mark, now? I was angry at the way he was talking to me, but I was afraid of him more.
“Ever since you met that rich Mills kid, you’ve been off the rails.”
I stepped to my right, moved away from the couch, away from Mark. “I’ve felt this way longer than I’ve known Lucas.”
“Trust me, I know what it’s like to fuck a Mills. Pretty sweet stuff. But the flavor doesn’t last.”
I stared at him. What? What? He’d fucked Lucas? What the hell was he talking about.
Then it came to me and I freaked. Holy shit. He wasn’t talking about Lucas. He was talking about Erin. He’d fucked Erin Mills.
“You need to go now,” I said, trying to cut past him to get to the front door so he’d leave.
Instead, he grabbed my arm, shook me so my teeth snapped together.
“Oh, no. We’re not done, Hailey. We’re just getting started.” He’d fucked her. Had she made him mad? Oh God, had he killed her?
The strike across my face made me see stars.
LUCAS
* * *
We were at the diner eating a late lunch. I’d decimated my burger and was lazily picking at my fries. Not much was said on the ride back to town. Cy was lost in his thoughts. He’d talked to his dad for the first time in almost twenty years. It was something to process.
“You’re too fucking calm,” he said, looking across the table at me. The waitress brought a refill on his iced tea and he thanked her.
We were at one of the booths in the back corner. I could see out into the parking lot, which was quickly emptying as it was the end of the lunch rush.
I glanced at him, shrugged. “What else can I do?” I tossed a fry in my mouth.
His dark gaze flared, not with heat, but anger. “Steal my truck and go back to my father’s house, make him talk.”
It was a tempting idea, one I’d considered more than once since we pulled away.
“He didn’t kill Erin,” I said. “The traffic camera photo of her blew his story wide open. She was alive when he’d said he killed her. While he did a shitty thing by stepping forward, it wasn’t him. I’d rather focus my attention on finding who really did do it.”
Slowly, he shook his head. “Jesus, just once I want to see you lose your shit and rip someone’s head off.”
I couldn’t help but grin at the image. I was calm and he’d always hated it. In comparison, he was like a bull in a china shop. He had a hair trigger, and I had to admit, when we’d driven to see his dad, I’d expected to have to hide a body before we left. Maybe he realized, no matter how much he wanted to, his father wasn’t worth the effort.
“I’m sure there will be a time.”
My cell chimed and I lifted it from the table. “It’s Nix.”
Cy sat up straight. Hearing from the detective meant they knew something. I glanced at the screen.
“He wants to run some names by me.”
That meant they hadn’t caught Erin’s killer. I wrote out a reply, letting him know where we were. I watched the bubbles on the screen as he typed out his response.
“He’s coming here,” I told Cy, setting the phone down and grabbing another fry.
“Heard from Hailey?”
I tried not to grin, but it was hard. “You sound like a seventh-grade girl.”
He smiled. “I fucked up, and now I wonder if I’ve blown it for good.”
“Doubtful. She’s not shallow. A little arguing won’t keep her away. She loves you. Me. Us, even if she hasn’t said it yet.”
“You think?”
I ached a brow. Total seventh-grade girl.
He sighed, realizing how he was behaving. It was reassuring to know he cared about her. I’d seen it all along and now he was blatantly whipped.
“I doubt it will be the last time we fight.”
I laughed at that. “You two are always going to knock heads. Did you really want someone meek and quiet?”
He glanced out the window, thought. “Her submission’s all the sweeter when she gives it to me.”
My dick got hard remembering how she’d just let go for him. How that plug looked nestled between her perfect ass cheeks.
“She’s meeting with her coach. We’ll wait for her text when she’s done, then go get our girl. Celebrate her decision.”
“Did you want her to race?” he asked.
“The video of her accident…” I shuddered remembering it. “Fuck, I don’t want that to happen again. But then I look at videos of her other races, of her crossing the line first. The… exuberance and thrill on her face. She’s amazing. I’ll stand beside her whatever she wants to do, but I’d probably get a fucking ulcer if she got back out there.”
He took a swig of his tea. “No shit.” He pointed toward the parking lot. “Nix is here.”
That was fast. We weren’t too far from the police station, but they’d have needed their siren to get here that quick. I had to assume they’d been already in their SUV when he texted.
Nix walked toward the diner’s entry with his partner, Miranski. I’d met her a few times before, the first right after Erin had been killed. She was tall and lean with long, dark hair. I’d call her pretty, but she was also serious, which was probably important for her job. I’d also say she was driven, just like Hailey, but in completely different ways. Miranski was driven to see my sister’s killer was behind bars, and I respected her for that.
She and Nix were good detectives, but they were on a hard case. Not only had there been no leads since it was discovered Cy’s dad had been lying, but they had a lot of pressure from the media, the mayor and even my parents to find out who did it. Small towns and murderers on the loose weren’t a good combo.
Standing in the entrance, they looked around, then found us. Miranski headed our way, but Nix stopped to say hi to Kit, his girlfriend, a waitress here. She was working the tables on the other side of the restaurant, but I could see him lean down and kiss her forehead. She said something to him and he smiled, then stroked her hair before working his way toward us.
I’d given her a simple wave when we’d entered. We weren’t close, but we didn’t hate each other either. We’d been important to each other in the past, but that time was long gone. I was glad she had Nix now. Donovan, too. She deserved to be happy.
We stood when Miranski stopped in front of our booth. She had a file tucked under her elbow.
I extended my arm so she knew to sit first. She slid in and I settled beside her. Nix approached. He shook Cy’s hand, then mine. Cy settled in the booth, Nix joining him.
“What do you have for me?” I asked, not eager for small talk. Not when Nix had sought me out.
Miranski set the folder on the table, opened it. “The fingerprints from Erin’s house. I wanted to go through some of the names that popped up in the search. To see if you know any of them.”
“To
rule them out?”
Nix shrugged. “Maybe, or if you don’t know who they are, rule them in.”
“Erin and I didn’t run in the same circles. We weren’t close,” I advised.
Miranski nodded. “It’s a small enough town.”
True enough.
“There were Erin’s prints. Kit’s, too.”
Nix nodded, well aware of his woman’s connection to the murder. She’d been cleared, but until the real killer was found, some would wonder about her.
“Your parents’ prints came up.”
“They were closer than I was.”
“A house cleaner who’s been cleared.”
The waitress came by, brought two glasses of ice water for the detectives. They declined any food and she left.
“Here are some other names. Tom Clinke.”
I frowned. “Wasn’t he a year behind us?” I asked Nix.
He nodded. “Works at the car dealership.”
“I know him because we went to school together, but not how he knew Erin. Dated her, maybe?”
“That’s what he said, but wanted your take,” Miranski added. “How about Aiden O’Connell, Reed Parker or Mark Bastion?”
I shook my head, then paused, looked to Cy.
“Did you say Mark Bastion?”
Both Miranski and Nix perked up at my question. Miranski nodded.
“He’s a ski coach,” Cy said.
“That’s right,” Miranski replied after looking at her notes.
“I’ve never heard of the other two guys, but Mark Bastion is Hailey’s coach.”
“Hailey who?” Nix asked.
“Hailey Taylor, the downhill racer?” Miranski asked.
“And our woman,” I said, looking to Cy.
“You found his fingerprints at Erin’s house?”
“We did,” Nix said. “What’s up?”
“Mark Bastion knew Erin. Well enough to be in her house,” I said.
“When would they have met?” Cy wondered. “Erin skied, but wasn’t into racing.”
I shook my head. “She liked picking out the cutest ski suit. She was definitely a slope bunny.” I paused. “Wait. I told her about the mud run, the charity event up at Cutthroat Mountain last month where I met Hailey. Erin could have gone. Met him there. There’s no way she raced, not if mud was involved. She could have met him during the event itself when I was on the course. I was with Hailey, so she wouldn’t have seen them together either.”
“That event was before she was killed, right?” Miranski asked.
“A week or so.”
The detectives looked at each other. “Maybe they met on the mountain, came back into town, had a fling. Things went south.”
“Holy shit,” Cy said, pushing at Nix to get out of the booth.
“What? What’s the matter?” he asked as he got out of the way.
“Hailey’s with him now. He came here to take her to pre-season training, but she’s telling him she’s done with racing. She said he’s pretty aggressive, and she worried about telling him she was quitting.”
I stood, too, seeing where he was going. “Mark Bastion is on your short list of suspects in the murder of my sister. His fingerprints are at the crime scene. And he’s with our girl right fucking now.”
Cy ran for the door, drawing lots of attention. I followed along with Miranski. Nix stopped to talk to Dolly, then came outside after us.
“Where are they?” Nix asked.
“My house.”
“Follow us, we’ve got the light bar.”
I ran for the truck, said to Cy, “That won’t be necessary.”
“Damned straight. Hailey’s with a murderer. Holy fuck.”
13
HAILEY
* * *
I stepped back, brought my hand up to my face. I’d never been hit before, but I’d fallen down a mountain more than once. Hit my head, even with a helmet. The pain from Mark’s strike was intense, but it was more the surprise of it that had me freezing in place.
“You’re going to go get your shit together. All of it because you’re not coming back here ‘til the season’s over.”
I took a step back, then another.
“Move!” he shouted.
I jumped, then did what he said, went into Lucas’ room. I had no intention of obeying him, I was just glad he’d let me out of his sight. He’d never hit me before, never gotten this angry, but I’d known he had a hair trigger. Not like this though. God, who was this man?
My cheek stung, and I could feel it beginning to swell. I wasn’t going with him. No fucking way. But I had to get away from him and it wasn’t out the front door. I went into Lucas’ bathroom, locked the door and climbed in the bathtub. Why, I had no idea, but it was the furthest I could get. I needed help, but fuck, my cell was in the kitchen!
“Hailey!” Mark shouted, then banged on the door. I jumped and grabbed on to the shower curtain. “What the fuck are you doing in there?”
“Going to the bathroom before we go,” I called back. “Give me a few minutes.”
Maybe he thought I couldn’t escape the bathroom. Maybe he thought the slap was enough to put me in my place. As if. The opposite, actually.
I couldn’t cower in the tub. I climbed out, looked to the small window over the toilet. It had opaque film on it so no one could see in. No curtain. It was tiny, but I was small enough to get through it. Luckily, Lucas’ house was only one floor. I turned on the water in the sink to muffle my actions, then flipped the latch and pushed up the sash. Fortunately, Lucas had replaced the original windows with new ones. They were better for preventing heat loss, and thankfully, opening and closing as well.
Climbing up onto the toilet lid, I reached my arms through, then my head.
“Hailey!” Mark shouted.
“Just a minute,” I called back. Putting my hands on the outside of the house, I pushed off, getting the rest of my torso through the window. Angling to the side, I got my hips past, then I leaned down and put my hands out when I dropped a few feet to the ground in Lucas’ backyard.
I popped up and ran for the side gate. Sirens sounded in the distance, then louder and louder as they got closer. I heard tires squealing to a stop as I came around the side of the house, watched as people ran up Lucas’ front walk, guns out.
Shouting came from within.
“Where is she?”
I knew that voice. Lucas.
Oh god, they knew I was with Mark. But why the police? I hadn’t called them.
I ran around to the front, and back inside. Everyone turned to face me.
“Hailey,” Cy said, grabbing me and pulling me into him. He was closer than Lucas and got me first. Lucas joined him, stroked my hair.
“Where were you?”
“I… I went out the bathroom window.”
A plainclothes policewoman came out of Lucas’ bedroom. She had on jeans and a black turtleneck, a badge on her belt and a holster at her hip. “The house is empty, the door to the bathroom is closed.”
She glanced to me.
“Why the fuck did you have to go out the bathroom window?” Lucas asked.
“He… he hit me. Wasn’t happy that I was quitting. He was making me go with him to training.”
Cy pushed me back from him enough so he and Lucas could see my face. Their looks changed from concerned to murderous in a split second.
Lucas spun on his heel and launched himself at Mark, who was standing in the middle of the living room in handcuffs. With his arms behind his back, he could only turn his head away in defense, but it wasn’t enough to avoid Lucas’ wicked punch. The force of it knocked Mark down and he fell onto the coffee table, then crashed to the floor with a groan.
Another detective grabbed Lucas, pushed him back. Big, broad shouldered, dark hair. “Easy there, slugger.”
“Nix, he hit my woman,” Lucas growled. “And he fucking killed my sister.”
The policewoman grabbed Mark’s arm and yanked him to his feet, although
he stumbled a few times on the way. His nose was bleeding, and he was breathing hard. His hair was a mess, and there was a tear in his pants.
“Kill your sister? Are you insane?” he shouted. “I didn’t kill her!”
“You laid a hand on Hailey.” Lucas jammed his finger into Mark’s chest. “Show’s you have no qualms with hurting a woman. Besides, you knew my sister. You were in Erin’s house. Your fingerprints don’t lie.”
“I didn’t know her,” Mark replied, his smile tinged with blood. “We just fucked after the mud run event up at Cutthroat Mountain.”
Lucas lunged again. Either the big detective was weak or he let Lucas hit Mark again. I was thinking the latter. With one well aimed punch, Mark toppled once more, right onto the coffee table with a grunt.
“Glad you skipped my dad and saved that shit up,” Cy told him. “Nice hit.”
A police officer came in the door and when the guy Lucas called Nix saw him, he hoisted Mark to his feet once more, pushed him his way. Besides the bloody nose, his eye was quickly swelling. He’d have a black eye within the hour.
“Book him for assault and murder,” Nix said.
“He hit me. That bastard hit me with my arms behind my back.”
“I didn’t see anything,” Nix said. “Did you, Miranski?”
“Nope. Just like he didn’t know Erin Mills.”
“Shit. Wait! I didn’t kill Erin,” Mark said, breathing hard and tilting his head to wipe the blood from his face onto his shoulder.
“We’ll question you at the station after you’re read your rights.”
“I couldn’t have killed her. I was in Canada.”
Lucas stilled, glanced at Cy, then at me. Nix kept his gaze on Mark, studied him perhaps for deception. It was pretty hard to fake being in a foreign country. There were plane tickets to track. Customs.
I shrugged, not knowing my coach’s schedule, only that he had been at the mud run. “It’s possible.”
“We’ll check it out,” Nix said. “Read him his rights before he says anything else.”
The uniformed officer nodded, took Mark away while reciting the usual Miranda rights.
“Is your face okay?” Cy asked, turning me back to him, gently brushing his knuckles over the hot skin.