Chapter 32

The four walls of the interview room blocked the normal noises within the police station. Wayne kept his eyes closed, his head against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. After being read his rights, he'd faced three officers, none of which he'd worked with in the past, and answered their questions regarding the murder of Roy Jenson.

Before he'd closed his eyes, he'd noted the time by the large black and white clock on the far wall. It'd been twelve-o-five. Clara would be sleeping. Gracie coming out of surgery. The citizens of St. John's would still be sleeping, more peacefully because a serial killer was gone from the community.

Banging invaded his thoughts and he raised his head. He sat up and stretched his back. The noise came again, and he looked at the black window in front of him. He stood and walked around the desk.

The window vibrated with the noise. "Yo."

Thad? He put his hand on the one-way window, unable to see through. "What's going on?"

He waited for a response. When none came, he spoke louder. "What?"

"Your woman's here."

His fingers curled on the glass. "Clara?" he shouted.

She was injured and at home, under the care of Officers Geary and Taylor. He leaned closer until his forehead hit the window, straining to hear.

"The detective...radio...left."

Wayne banged his fist. "What the fuck are you saying?"

"Clara's here. Came over the radio," shouted Thad.

Jesus Christ. Wayne stalked across the room and kicked his boot against the door. "Hey, let me out," he yelled.

He continued beating the door. "I want to talk to someone."

The door lock jingled. He stepped back. There was no way he'd allow anyone to talk to Clara. She had no idea what she was doing.

"Are you ready to talk?" asked Detective Harrison.

"There's a woman who came into the station. Clara Nelson. I want to see her." He held his arms out from his sides. "Get Gomez to give you permission if you have to, but in two minutes I'm about to raise holy hell here, and I don't think you have enough men on the night shift to stop me."

"Do you really want to be making threats while you're under questioning for murder?" Detective Harrison put his hands on his belt, close to the nine-millimeter he wore at his hip.

Wayne lifted his hands. "Come on. I've been in here for hours. You're not going to hear something different from me when I've given you all the information you need. You've got my brothers filling up your rooms. There's a serial killer dead that has caused fucking havoc in this town for the last twenty-four years. All I'm asking for is time with my girl. It was her sister, her twin sister, who I rescued. She's worried sick and feels like shit after being in the car accident, too. Let me give her some comfort. Give me this, man."

"If you would've waited five more minutes, you would've been let go. All the members of Notus Motorcycle Club are finished here." Detective Harrison stepped back into the hallway. "You know the drill. Make sure you stay in town until we wrap up everything to close this case."

The worry that refused to let go clawed into his back. "Where's Clara?"

"In with Lieutenant Gomez. She asked to see him."

He marched down the hallway, meeting Thad, mumbling thanks for the information he passed into the room, and headed straight to Gomez's office. It took everything he had to stop at the closed door and knock and not push his way in.

"Come in," said Gomez.

Wayne opened the door. Two steps in, he lifted Clara from the chair and moved her behind him. "She's done here."

"Wayne." Gomez stood.

Wayne ignored him and walked Clara out of the office, studying everything about her. The slow steps, the marred forehead, and her red-rimmed eyes. Pushing against the locked front door, he looked over his shoulder at the night attendee at the desk. The buzzer went off, unlocking the door, and he took Clara outside.

He kept his hand on her lower back, noticing her holding her arm against her chest. "Is your arm hurting?"

"No. It's Gracie." She stopped walking and looked up at him. "I need to go to her. Can you take me to the hospital?"

"Can't, sweetheart. I've got my bike. But, I will get you there." He cupped her face, making her look at him. "What the hell were you doing coming here?"

"I needed to tell the police it was my idea to kill the man who took Gracie and that you were innocent. That I'm the one who asked you to kill him." She lowered her voice. "I don't understand because Lieutenant Gomez said he understood why I wanted the man killed and talked about how Gracie was lucky."

"Sweetheart, every one of those policemen in there wanted a serial killer dead. They understood why you wanted him killed." He heard whistling and looked up, caught sight of the other Notus members walking out to the parking lot and waved them over. "Glen lives close. He can go home and bring his car back. Then, he can take my bike back to his house, and I'll take you to see Gracie with his car."

Once he relayed the request to Glen, he had Clara sit on his bike to rest. Even in the overhead parking lot lights, she looked pale. He held on to her and silence fell between them. She'd had a rough twenty-four hours.

When Glen pulled in ten minutes later, he got Clara in the car and drove away from the police station. "Gracie's probably sleeping. She had surgery tonight on her wrist. You're barely moving. How about we go home, and in the morning, I'll take you to see Gracie during visiting hours."

The last time he saw her sister, Gracie had been in shock. She wasn't fit to have any visitors, not to mention company in the middle of the night. If he couldn't talk Clara into changing her mind, he'd have to get her in the room somehow. Visiting hours were during the day.

"I need to see her, Wayne. You probably don't understand, but she'll feel better once she can see I'm all right, and I will, too." Clara leaned her head against the car window and closed her eyes. "I just don't understand why Lieutenant Gomez didn't arrest me."

"Saying you want to kill someone or telling someone you want someone killed is just talk. It's natural to want to hurt someone for hurting someone you love." Wayne pulled into the hospital parking lot.

She turned her head and frowned at him. "I offered you money to—"

"We're here." He pointed ahead. "We'll have to go through the front door. Everything is locked up for the night."

"Wayne, I —"

"Not now, Clara." He opened the car door.

The only thing he wanted to do was take Clara to Gracie. There was nothing else to talk about. Not tonight.

He guided her into the hospital, slowing his steps. If he hadn't known how important it was for the twins to be together, he'd haul Clara's ass home and make her rest. Her stilted walk and blank expression reminded him of how Gracie looked tied to the bed.

"Slow down," said Clara, looking up at him.

His body vibrated not knowing what happened in that bedroom before he'd gotten to Gracie. His gut tightened. There were more questions than answers despite ending a twenty-four-year murder spree.

The conversation Clara had started with him at her house before he went looking for Gracie weighed heavily on his mind. He hadn't missed what was left unspoken or the fact that she'd made nice with him for a purpose other than wanting to be with him.

"Sorry," he muttered, leading her to a chair in the lobby. "Sit here while I go see if I can get us into Gracie's room."

He approached the desk and waited for the woman to lift her gaze from the computer to him. "Clara Nelson would like to see her twin sister, Gracie Nelson. I know it's not visiting hours, but because of the circumstances this is the first chance that Clara can see her sister after the kidnapping."

The woman's lips formed a perfect circle. "Oh, she was the woman...?"

He nodded, willing to use a hardship case to get Clara upstairs. "It would mean the world to her if she can go up and see her sister. She's not going to stay long because she's pretty beat up from the accident where her sister was abducted."

"Let me call the nurses station on the floor she's staying on." The woman picked up a phone, spoke quietly, and then smiled at Wayne when she hung up. "Floor Three. Ms. Nelson is in Room 319, which is across from the nurse's station."

He leaned over the counter. "Thank you."

319.

319.

319.

He kept repeating the numbers, not wanting to get them mixed up.

Clara remained where he put her, looking down at her lap, flexing her fingers. She concentrated all her attention on her hand and startled when he touched her shoulder.

"Can we go to her?" She stood.

"Yeah," he said. "She's in room...319."

Within a couple of minutes, he had Clara at Gracie's door. He stopped her and slid his hand underneath her hair and cupped her neck. "Sweetheart, she might not seem like herself. She's gone through a lot and still hasn't talked to the police. I don't want you to walk in there and be surprised that on top of having surgery, she might not want to answer a lot of questions. I think she'll just want her sister."

Clara nodded and turned, pushing through the door. Her steps slowed, and she quietly walked to the bed. Wayne stayed behind her, knowing her weakness and the head wound had her in less than tiptop shape.

Gracie slept on the bed. Clara slipped her hand into Gracie's uninjured hand. He put his hands on her hips when Clara gasped, leaning against the rail of the bed.

"Sis," whispered Clara. "I’m here."

Gracie's eyes fluttered open. Wayne stepped back, giving the twins privacy. It was going to be a long road of healing for both of them.