Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ethan knew.
But that’s not what came out of Kat’s mouth and Stephen wondered if she was purposely ignoring the obvious.
“I don’t know,” she sighed. “Greg’s mother is the only person I can find that Emma actually spoke with.”
“She spoke with Jessica Adams.”
“What?” Kat cried. “Jessica pretended she didn’t know who Emma was.”
“She lied,” Stephen said. “Alex was watching Jessica Adams. That’s how he discovered Emma knew Matthew Harrington was still alive.”
“Why was Alex watching Jessica Adams?”
Stephen clamped his mouth shut, refusing to answer. Wrong move. Kat seethed, her entire body jolting with anger, hot and intense. “Fucking answer me!”
Stephen’s tires screeched as he whipped off the road at his first opportunity, the truck stalling, rolling the rest of the way into the convenient store parking lot as he gaped at her in shock. He didn’t think he’d ever heard that word out of Kat’s mouth before. Not with such vehemence.
“Stay,” he commanded, allowing no argument before grabbing his phone, slamming the door shut with so much force it was a miracle the glass didn’t break.
Day One of forever was off to a great fucking start.
He rounded the side of his truck, leaning against the tailgate, the phone gripped in his fist. He couldn’t do it anymore, he thought. He’d tried. So damned hard.
But the hurt behind her tone, underneath her anger? He had too much respect for her and he never wanted her to doubt that.
Even if it went against every fiber of his being, he wouldn’t keep her from the investigation any longer.
So he lifted the damn phone and ten minutes later, got back in his truck. “Jessica Adams was released from the hospital yesterday about the time Alex and his men were up at the party.”
Silence. He tried again. “You still have that address in Massachusetts?”
Kat ignored the olive branch. She’d unbuckled her belt, turned completely sideways in the seat. Like the other day, she was probably too pissed off to speak. So he blurted out the truth. “I’m scared. I know I’ve said it before, but seeing you nearly killed…” He struggled to find the right words, but couldn’t. “The way I feel about you, I’ve never felt this way before. Never loved another woman the way I love you. I’d probably be overprotective anyway, but seeing that…maybe it’s still too soon, but it changed something inside me and I don’t think I’ll ever fully recover.”
Kat turned, finally, but Stephen continued before she interrupted. “It’ll always be there, in the back of my mind. Last night didn’t help, finding the dead man in the conference room I knew you’d been in. And now that you’re finally mine, I have this irrational fear that you’ll be ripped away from me again. It’s not healthy, so I’ll work on it. But until then, I’m asking for a little understanding and a whole lot of patience.”
He’d rendered her speechless. And he was about to do it again. He reached over, grabbed her with both hands and hauled her onto his lap, leveling the sappiness of his words so he didn’t sound like a complete wimp. “Don’t turn your back on me,” he growled before crushing her mouth with his. “Not ever.”
It was another ten minutes before they left the parking lot. But the tension between them had evaporated by the time they were pulling onto Blake’s street nearly three hours later, after he’d purposely wasted time stopping for lunch.
Stephen knocked on Blake’s door, Kat right beside him. The man glanced at Kat first when he opened the door before his gaze settled on Stephen. Possibly a former jock, Stephen thought, his muscle going to fat. What little hair remained was gray, matching his deep-set gray eyes. After a quick introduction and explanation, they followed him into the kitchen. Stephen tamped down the uneasiness in his gut, convincing himself it was from picturing Kat here by herself, with a possible rapist and murderer.
“You said Karen Young left with someone the night of the party. Do you remember who he was?” Stephen asked.
Blake gave Kat a sidelong glance before looking back at Stephen. Instantly, he understood and apparently, so did Kat. “Is there a bathroom I could use?”
“Down the hall and to the right.” As soon as Kat was out of the room, Blake turned to him. “There were three of them,” he admitted. He stood near the sink, keeping his eye on the opening between the kitchen and living room.
“And you didn’t think something might be wrong with that?” Stephen asked.
Blake hesitated. “Not then. I was drunk. We were all drunk. And that kind of thing, it happened more often than not at those frat parties. Getting laid was the point.”
He finally glanced at him and Stephen couldn’t help but wonder if Blake had been one of three. “It’s possible she was drugged.”
Blake didn’t look surprised. “I ran into Greg once after he married Karen. I didn’t ask why he’d married her, it was none of my business at that point. But he hinted there was more shit going on than what it seemed. I wondered what he meant. Not then, but throughout the years, when I got a little wiser and older.”
“Greg knew what happened?”
“He didn’t say anything more. But yes, looking back, I think he knew.”
“Yet you told—” Stephen couldn’t believe he was going to say this— “Investigator Collins she had an affair.”
“Listen, Mr. Chandler. It was more than thirty years ago, before date rape was a thing, before consent while drunk wasn’t really consent. Back then I was a cocky, arrogant frat boy where shit like that was commonplace. Excuse my language, but at the time, I thought Greg was a fucking wimp for crying in his beer when she dumped him. Then I was even more disgusted when he took her back, married her when she was likely pregnant with another man’s baby. I mean, who does shit like that?”
An unbelievably good man, Stephen thought. A man who loved his girl unconditionally. Kat hadn’t made a peep, but he knew she was listening, knew without a doubt, even if this investigation she started didn’t lead to Emma’s killer, he knew she wouldn’t be giving it up. Not until she found justice for Karen Young.
“Who were the men?” Stephen asked, the question making him queasy. It never got easier, hearing the atrocities people committed against each other. And perhaps it was because he knew Kat was listening, or perhaps it was because of everything he’d gone through in the last six weeks, but he finally thought he’d had enough. Kat didn’t need to live in a world where she’d be exposed to this crap day in and day out, this life she never wanted in the first place.
Maybe he didn’t either.
“I didn’t know them. I think they were from a different school.”
And just like Kat said, the man was lying. Stephen had no jurisdiction here, had nothing to threaten him with. But if the man was feeling the need to lie, he was obviously hiding something. “We can offer you protection.”
“Why the hell would I need protection from a rape case that’s nearly four decades old?” Blake asked, but Stephen saw the flicker of wariness on the man’s face, proving he wasn’t as clueless as he’d have them believe.
“Murder case,” Stephen corrected. “Karen Young was murdered.” Right or wrong, Stephen laid it all out, filling in the blanks where questions remained, even if was stretching the truth a little. Or working off Kat’s assumptions. “Emma Anderson?” Stephen waited for the man’s nod of recognition before continuing. “She was murdered.”
Blake nodded, his face paling a little, but he said nothing. “Since then, Karen Young’s roommate was also murdered. Another roommate was nearly beaten to death. She’s still in the hospital. On life support,” Stephen added, stretching the truth. “And, I forgot to mention that Emma Anderson was stabbed in the stomach and left for dead. Just like Karen Jones. So you tell me, Mr. Blake. Do you need protection? Because sure as shit, I won’t be the last person asking you about this case.”
The man remained silent so long, turning to look out the kitchen window again. His shoulders slumped, just a miniscule amount, enough to cause Stephen’s heartbeat to pick up a little. “I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t know who they were. I didn’t. Not then. But because of the public life they lead…John Harrington and Fred Koski.”
“Senator John Harrington?”
Stephen’s head was spinning, trying to fit all the pieces of the puzzle together. Then time seemed to stop, the next few moments playing out in slow motion as the back of Blake’s head exploded while Stephen watched in horror.
He dropped to the floor, pulling his gun from the holster, frantically scanning the kitchen until his gaze settled on the back door as he yelled for Kat, her silence filling him with a fear that was becoming way too familiar.
He glanced up at the window. Open, no screen to see if a bullet had gone through it. And then Kat was there, calling his name. Stephen raced toward her, whipping her around so she wouldn’t see the grisly scene, yet another nightmare that would replay through her head.
“Other way! Bathroom!”
Kat ran even as Stephen pushed her forward, staying low as they made their way down the hallway. “Get in the tub, lie down flat,” Stephen said urgently.
“No. Wait—”
“Now!”
And then Alex was racing through the door, yelling Stephen’s name. He called out, hearing the panic in his voice.
“Get her out. Take my car,” he said, handing Stephen the keys. “Give me yours.” Stephen tossed him the keys.
“I’ll call 911 and deal with the fallout. Just get her out, take her to the cabin. Make damn sure you’re not followed. And for God’s sake, don’t let her out of your sight.”
As if he would. “Cases are tied—”
“Later,” Alex interrupted.
“Damn it, Alex. Listen to me. Senator Harrington allegedly raped Karen Young at a frat party more than thirty years ago. You need to watch your fucking back.”
“I hear you, but you both need to get the fuck out of here, can’t be here when the police show up. You can’t be investigating this case. You’re the prime fucking suspect.”