Hunt Valley, Maryland,
Wednesday 15 June, 10.35 P.M.
Thorne checked his phone for the thirtieth time in fifteen minutes. Gwyn hadn’t come back from her water-getting expedition and she should have. He’d gotten up to go find her several times, but forced himself to sit. She’d needed space. He’d give her space.
But he was worried. They were in a locked house with better security than Fort Knox, and she hadn’t been out of his sight long enough to take a really long shower. But he was losing his mind. Was that what they were going to be reduced to? Traveling in groups? Sleeping in the same house? Sequestering the moms and children hundreds of miles away?
Yeah. Apparently they were. Nobody can sustain this. Tavilla knows this. His son went to prison and he’s put us in prison.
Had the tables been turned, it would have been poetic justice. But this was hell.
So stop whining and make him stop. But first, find her. Ease your mind.
Clay’s downstairs was eerily quiet, the toys in the playroom stacked and abandoned. ‘Gwyn?’ he called, but there was no answer. He jogged up the stairs and stopped short. She was sitting at the kitchen table with Clay and Jamie, the latter stroking her hair as she hugged her enormous dog and cried into his neck. Tweety actually looked sad. Both Clay and Jamie wore expressions of pity.
Thorne’s heart threatened to break all over again.
Clay pointed to a stack of T-shirts and jeans. ‘I found some of Stevie’s pre-baby clothes. They’re more likely to fit Gwyn now.’ He winced. ‘Don’t tell her I said “pre-baby”. She’ll hurt me.’
Gwyn choked on a laugh that sounded more like a sob. ‘Yeah, she will,’ she said, but didn’t lift her head.
Jamie shot Thorne a helpless look. ‘I think it just hit her that she’s lost about everything in her apartment.’
No, that wasn’t it. She wasn’t crying over the loss of her things. But Thorne wasn’t going to tell them the truth. Aidan – having him, losing him, being afraid for his safety, mourning that he’d turned eighteen and hadn’t contacted her . . . All that was Gwyn’s story to tell, if and when she decided to do so.
‘Hey,’ he murmured, crouching down beside her and pushing the dog away when a wet tongue came out to lick his face. ‘You’re exhausted. Let’s get some sleep. All of us. We have work to do tomorrow. Tavilla has had us on the run. Now it’s time to make him run.’
‘Straight to fucking hell,’ Clay muttered.
‘I’d drink to that,’ Jamie said grimly.
‘How?’ Gwyn asked, her face still hidden in Tweety’s fur.
‘By attacking the people he cares about. We know of two women – our office manager and our bartender. They were in that photo from last summer, taken at that Italian restaurant, Bruno’s.’
‘Where he still hangs out,’ Jamie said.
Thorne nodded. ‘I imagine the police have the place under surveillance. We know he has offices. Anne was a really good office manager.’
Gwyn snorted her derision. ‘Bullshit.’
Jamie smiled. ‘She’s an evil bitch from hell, but I’m going to agree with Thorne on this one. That woman had an amazing filing system, and she never missed a birthday. Maybe she does office management for Tavilla too.’
Gwyn lifted her head. Her face was tear-streaked, but she was still the most beautiful woman Thorne had ever seen. ‘You could have something there.’
‘There was a child in Laura’s social media,’ Thorne went on. ‘Or Bianca or Kathryn or whoever she is. It may not have been hers, but it belonged to someone. Babies get colds, get shots, need pediatricians. We start there and see where it takes us. The point is, we have options. Let’s get some sleep, and we’ll plan tomorrow.’
‘Okay.’ She wiped her eyes on her sleeve, then grabbed the stack of clothing. ‘Thanks for the clothes, Clay. And I won’t tell Stevie what you said, because your son would be in kindergarten before you got laid again.’
Clay made a face. ‘Thank you.’
She smiled at him. ‘You’re welcome. Come on, Tweety.’ She waited until they were back in the guest room before turning to Thorne. ‘Did you reach them?’
‘I did. His father thanked me for the warning, and said he would keep him safe.’
She hesitated. ‘They’ve told him, haven’t they? They told him and he doesn’t want to meet me.’
‘Give the kid some time,’ Thorne said, dodging the actual answer. ‘Come here.’ He led her to the bed and began unbuttoning her blouse. ‘I’m going to put you to bed and give you a massage, and you’re going to sleep.’
Hunt Valley, Maryland,
Thursday 16 June, 1.10 A.M.
Gwyn woke in a strange bed, but she wasn’t afraid because she knew before she’d opened her eyes that she was with Thorne. He held her half sprawled over his body like he was an oversized pillow. Her head rested on his chest, his arm was around her shoulders, his hand firmly gripping her butt. One of her legs was lodged between his powerful thighs, and when she tried to move, he rumbled out a warning.
‘Watch the knee, babe.’
Because she was only inches away from his groin. And his very erect cock. She slid one hand down until she could grab it. His rumble became a moan.
Tipping back her head, she kissed the underside of his jaw and wondered how long she’d been asleep. ‘Did you sleep?’
‘No,’ he murmured. ‘Just holding you.’
She rolled her shoulders experimentally, feeling no pain. ‘That was some massage.’
‘That was the plan,’ he said. ‘To make you feel better.’
She’d fallen asleep minutes into it, so there had been no mutual pleasuring. No satisfaction.
That was going to change. ‘You know what I really liked?’
‘The part where you melted into the mattress when I rubbed your shoulders?’
‘Of course that. But I was thinking about Tuesday. In my bed.’
‘Mmm.’ He played with her hair. ‘Which time?’
‘All of them. But mostly when I was on my back and I could see your face the whole time.’ She could hear his heart starting to beat a little faster. ‘I was hoping we could do that again. Maybe soon? Like now?’
The next thing she knew, she was on her back and he was sliding down her body, lifting her legs over his shoulders, licking into her. She moaned quietly, not because she worried about anyone hearing her, but because the moment seemed too important, too sacred, for loud shouts and grunts and pleas for more.
‘Thorne,’ she whispered.
He lifted his head. ‘What do you need?’ he whispered back. ‘Name it.’
She brushed his hair with her fingertips. ‘Just you. Only you.’
He kissed the inside of her thigh, a soft brush of his lips. Then he was licking again, so gently, a luxurious lapping that stirred her, but not to a frenzy. Not yet.
She stretched like a cat, gripping the brass bars of the headboard, crying out when he worked two big fingers into her.
‘All right?’ he murmured.
She undulated her hips, grinding down on his fingers. ‘Yes. Feels good. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.’
‘I won’t,’ he promised, a smile in his voice, then went back down on her, sucking her clit as he worked in a third finger.
She wasn’t feeling calm and quiet any more. The need to come was spiraling upward, and she arched, needing to move. ‘Thorne, now. Please. I’m ready.’
He paused to look at her, and she could see his amusement in the dim light. ‘I’m not,’ he said. ‘You’re impatient.’
‘Damn right.’ She swiveled her hips, trying to entice him, and he groaned.
‘Impatient and mean,’ he said.
‘Impatient and impatient,’ she corrected, wriggling against his fingers. ‘I’m five seconds from doing this myself.’
Chuckling, he took a final lick, then pulled his fingers free and crawled up her body, his huge muscles rolling, his body sleek and graceful. She widened her legs to give him room. He planted his fists on either side of her head and rubbed up against her sensitized flesh.
‘Thorne,’ she moaned. ‘Come on.’
‘Shh,’ he murmured. ‘Let me.’
She opened her eyes and met his, and her heart stuttered. There was the look, the one she’d wanted to fall into and never leave. ‘Yes.’
He hummed deep in his throat. ‘Yes what?’
She smiled at him, letting go of the bars to brush her fingers over his cheeks. ‘Whatever you want.’
He shuddered, hard. ‘I want it all. All of you.’ Canting his hips, he positioned himself and slid inside, and she cried out, filled again.
She’d never felt this full, not with anyone else. Not just her body, but her heart. Her soul, connected to his. And it was glorious. Her eyes abruptly stung and she blinked hard, feeling the tears slide down her face and into her hair.
Immediately he froze. ‘Did I hurt you?’
‘No.’ She cupped his face. ‘No. It’s . . . perfect. You’re perfect.’
He shuddered again. ‘So tight. God. Not gonna last long.’ He surged into her harder, picking up the pace, his eyes never leaving hers.
She wrapped her legs around his hips, lifting into him, meeting each thrust. Her orgasm built and built until suddenly it was there, crashing over her like a wave on the shore, stealing her breath, leaving her shaking and gasping his name.
He held himself perfectly still as she spasmed around him, then groaned, deep and guttural, as his own body whiplashed, his thrusts growing frantic and uncontrolled.
She could only watch, exhausted. Mesmerized. He’s beautiful.
He threw his head back, arching until his body stretched taut above hers, like a powerful god rising from the sea. And she could feel him lose himself, feel him throbbing inside her, feel the heat of his come as it filled her as surely as he had.
He collapsed then, his trembling arms giving out. He caught himself, bracing his forearms on the mattress as violent shudders shook his body.
‘Oh God,’ he panted. He dropped his head, his hair tickling her cheek. ‘Gwyn.’
She lifted a tired hand to stroke his hair. ‘Thank you.’
He huffed a laugh. ‘I think I’m supposed to thank you.’
She trailed her fingers down his face to the back of his neck, now hot and sweaty. And still perfect. ‘Not just for the sex.’ Her lips curved. ‘Although that was amazing. Thank you for giving me back myself. I was so afraid for so long that I’d never be able to be like this again. And I couldn’t have been with anyone but you.’
He kissed her then, so sweetly and full of joy. ‘I love you.’
Her sigh was simple contentment. ‘I love you too.’
With a little groan, he slid out and rolled onto his back, taking her with him. She let herself be arranged how he wanted her, which was exactly how she’d woken up, sprawled across his chest, one of his big hands on her butt. Her ear to his heart.
This was peace. And she’d take it for as long as she could. Which would be until morning, if they were lucky.
Hunt Valley, Maryland,
Thursday 16 June, 8.30 A.M.
Peace lasted until midway through breakfast. Seated at Clay’s kitchen table and practically swimming in Stevie’s too-big ‘pre-baby’ clothes, Gwyn was starting her second cup of coffee and tabbing through the news coverage online.
‘Well?’ Jamie asked, pointing to her laptop.
She shrugged. ‘It’s a mixed bag, although it looks like public opinion is starting to swing our way. Tavilla himself hasn’t been named as a suspect, probably because Joseph and Hyatt want all their ducks in a row first.’
‘They need to fucking hurry up,’ Frederick grumbled.
Thorne came in from the study, a frustrated frown on his face, and Gwyn patted the empty chair next to her. ‘Colton Brandenberg still isn’t answering?’
‘No.’ He slumped into the chair. ‘Neither is Nystrom or Christina Brandenberg. Thanks,’ he added when Frederick filled his coffee cup. ‘JD’s on the phone with Hyatt. They’re going to be circulating the photo of the baby in Laura’s Facebook photos to area pediatricians. They’re positioning it as a possible child endangerment case because she’s implicated in the murder of two Circus Freaks members. They recognized her as one of Tavilla’s operatives who’d tried to infiltrate their gang, and then they were dead. It’s a circumstantial link at best, but enough for BPD to try to find her through the baby.’
Gwyn blinked in surprise. ‘Alistair will verify that she tried to infiltrate the Freaks?’
Thorne snorted. ‘Hell, no. But Prew did, at least that the murdered men knew her. Remember, he followed them after Ming and Mowry tossed them out of the club Sunday night. Prew remembered them talking about the bartender, and when they called their boss, they asked if they should bring her in. Hyatt’s not thrilled with approaching this as a child endangerment, but it sounds like he’s cooperating at least.’
‘Too little, too late,’ Gwyn muttered. ‘Would have helped if he’d told us about the EMT’s murder himself. Makes me wonder what other secrets he’s keeping.’
‘A few,’ a new voice said, and they all looked up to see Joseph Carter coming through the kitchen doorway, Clay right behind him. Joseph looked disgruntled, but Clay seemed a little smug.
‘Joseph,’ Thorne said with a nod. ‘Why are you here?’
‘I came to get you,’ he said, then gave Clay a sour look. ‘You didn’t have to search my briefcase.’
‘I had Alec scan Joseph and his briefcase for listening devices,’ Clay said, a twinkle in his eyes. He and Joseph were close, but they seemed to take great delight in needling one another. ‘Anything that comes in or out gets scanned. No exceptions.’
Joseph rolled his eyes. ‘Jesus,’ he muttered. ‘Can I at least have some coffee?’
Thorne gave it to him, stone-faced. ‘What other secrets?’
Joseph sat down and took a big gulp, wincing because it was hot. ‘Nystrom is dead. You can stop calling him.’
Thorne flinched, then closed his eyes. ‘Fuck. How?’
‘Quite painfully, I’d imagine.’ Joseph shook his head. ‘One of those things that I wish I could unsee.’ He tilted his head. ‘How many medals did you have in high school, anyway?’
Thorne gave him a look of bewildered irritation. ‘What?’ Then his shoulders sagged. ‘He had one of my medals in him?’
‘Yep. And not much else.’ Joseph took another gulp of coffee, grimacing. ‘Let’s just say that I have not had a pleasant morning, and leave it at that.’
‘Where was he found?’ Clay asked.
‘In his house. He wasn’t killed there, though. His cell phone records show that he called Hyatt last night. It was his last outgoing call.’
‘JD gave him Hyatt’s card,’ Thorne said. ‘Told him to call if he needed help. I gave him my card, but he ripped it up.’
‘He waited too long to call Hyatt,’ Joseph said. ‘But you were good to try to help him, Thorne.’
‘Not entirely altruistic on my part,’ Thorne admitted. ‘I was sure he knew about that fucking key ring.’ He squeezed Gwyn’s hand when she took his. ‘I’ve been trying to reach Christina Brandenberg too. God, I hope she’s not dead. She’s the sister of Colton, who was the third of Richard’s posse back then. He’s a doctor now, apparently. At least he tried to do some good. She’s protecting him.’
‘I know,’ Joseph said calmly, sipping from his cup. ‘That’s why I’m here. I got a message through the switchboard this morning from a Dr Colt. He and his sister are on their way to see me.’
Gwyn’s mouth fell open. ‘You could have led with that.’
Joseph narrowed his eyes. ‘I got another call this morning. From a Mr York.’
Gwyn felt the blood drain from her head. ‘What?’
Thorne winced. ‘I told him to call Joseph for verification. I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you.’
Because he’d given her an amazing massage, then more amazing sex. She patted his hand. ‘It’s okay. What did he say?’
‘He wanted to know if Thorne’s story was true,’ Joseph answered. ‘I verified it. Next time, a heads-up would be nice.’ Then his narrowed eyes softened. ‘You should have told me, Gwyn. I would have given them protection.’
Gwyn’s face heated as Clay, Jamie and Frederick stared at her. She dropped her gaze to her cup. ‘I had a baby. Gave him up for adoption. Records of him were in my fire safe.’
‘Oh,’ Jamie said softly. ‘That’s why you were crying last night. Oh, honey.’ He wheeled his chair over and pulled her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I would have said different things.’
‘I know you would have, but thanks.’ She leaned into him for a moment, wishing he’d been her dad too. She returned her attention to Joseph. ‘Is Aidan okay?’
Joseph frowned, and Gwyn’s breath started to come in pants. Beside her, Thorne stiffened. ‘No,’ she said, hearing her own hysteria.
Joseph sighed. ‘We don’t know that anything’s wrong. He’s just not at home. His father was frantic when he called. The young man’s friends say they had a party last night and that Aidan left with a girl. The girl says he left her house just before dawn and was going home.’
‘Oh God, oh God, oh God.’ Gwyn clamped her hand over her mouth and turned into Thorne’s arms, which tightened around her.
‘His father said he was at home when I called last night,’ Thorne said.
Joseph sighed again. ‘Yeah, well, he thought he was at the time. Mr York decided he wanted to talk to me first thing this morning before frightening his son. His friends admitted that Aidan had snuck out the window. That he’d been doing it for years.’
Like me. He’s like me. Crawling out of windows to parties. Tavilla’s got him, and now he’s going to die. Like Nystrom.
‘Gwyn.’ Thorne gripped her shoulders. ‘You need to breathe. You don’t know that he’s going to die. He could be with another friend.’
Gwyn hadn’t even realized she’d said the words aloud. ‘You don’t believe that, though.’
Thorne squared his shoulders. ‘No, I don’t. But I also know we’re not going to find him by losing our shit. I’m going to tell you what you told me on Sunday. I’m not going to give you time to process this. I need you here with me now.’
No, no, no, no. The chant filled her head. She wanted to curl up into a fetal position. She wanted to rock herself, like she had done right after leaving the hospital. After Evan.
No. Not going back there. Get it together, Gwyn. She dragged in a breath. ‘What are you doing to locate him, Joseph?’
‘The local field office is treating this as an abduction. They’re forming the task force as we speak. I didn’t want you to hear this on the news or from someone else.’
She jerked a nod. ‘Thank you. Will you raid Tavilla’s home and offices?’
‘Not right now. We don’t have anything connecting him to this that would allow us to get a warrant.’
She leaned into Thorne, breathing him in. Picturing all the yarn on the bulletin board connecting the victims to the perpetrators. The connections they couldn’t yet explain were those to Tavilla. Why he had chosen to kill Patricia, and how he was tied to Linden Senior. And, of course, that motherfucking key ring.
‘What about Linden Senior?’ she asked. ‘Can you bring him in?’
‘For extorting Eileen Gilson into silence, yes. Maybe for interfering with the investigation into his son’s murder nineteen years ago. But that’s not enough to connect him to any of the rest of it.’
‘Brandenberg will do that,’ Thorne said. ‘He has to. He’s the only one left.’
Joseph put his empty coffee cup aside. ‘Then let’s go talk to him. He’s meeting me and Hyatt in half an hour.’
Baltimore, Maryland,
Thursday 16 June, 9.30 A.M.
‘What did Clay say?’ Gwyn asked as they exited the elevator on the homicide floor of BPD. She, Thorne and JD had driven here with Joseph, while Frederick and Jamie had followed in Jamie’s van.
Clay had stayed behind with Alec, who had now thrown himself into the search for the real Anne Poulin, not the woman who worked for Tavilla, but the one who’d left Montreal on a student visa. The real Anne Poulin was another link to Tavilla because she had once existed, but had been apparently erased and replaced by the woman who’d worked for Thorne for a whole year.
Tweety had also stayed behind, but Thorne was rethinking that decision, because Gwyn was still pale and dangerously on edge as she waited for an answer to her question.
He slid his phone into his pocket. ‘He was staticky at the end because of the elevator, but I got the main gist. Stevie got a call this morning from the coach of Patricia’s son’s lacrosse team. He’d found Tristan Armistead, who confirmed he’d been “seeing” Patricia. He was seventeen when she first approached him. He’d been both elated and terrified by her attentions. He was being seduced by an older, experienced woman, but he also knew Patricia’s son would not understand. When Patricia was murdered, he was afraid but didn’t know who he could go to for help.’ He narrowed his eyes at Joseph. ‘He also said that one of Hyatt’s men had already spoken to him. Told him to lay low.’
Joseph’s eyes widened, showing rare shock. ‘I didn’t know that.’
Thorne believed him. ‘Tristan said the cop who interviewed him accused him of calling Patricia to lure her away from home the night she was killed. He denies it. Says he’ll give access to his cell records to disprove it. He heard from his teammates that his coach was looking for him, and contacted him. He’s been sweating bullets for days, thinking the cops were going to arrest him or that Judge Segal was coming for him.’
‘Who was the cop?’ Joseph asked, dark color staining his cheekbones. He was pissed. Good. So was Thorne.
‘Gave his name as Detective Hooper.’
Frederick gasped softly. ‘That’s the same name the guy gave to Sally Brewster, the one who was looking for Bernice Brown.’
‘Because Bernice Brown supposedly lured me out on Saturday night,’ Thorne said, ‘after which two innocent people were killed in their trailer because someone thought Bernice was there.’
‘But Detective Hooper doesn’t exist,’ Frederick said. ‘I checked.’
‘True,’ Thorne said, ‘but the man Tristan described reminds me a lot of that prick Brickman.’
‘Like it’s a shock that he’s dirty,’ Gwyn said bitterly. ‘I hated that man on sight.’
JD was staring at an unoccupied desk in the bullpen. ‘You know, when I finally met Cesar Tavilla last year, he was sitting right there. At that desk.’
‘Tavilla was . . . here?’ Thorne asked. He hadn’t known that part.
JD nodded. ‘Yeah. I’d been looking for him everywhere but hadn’t found him. He has offices but never seemed to be there. I left loads of messages with his receptionist. We were looking for Gage Jarvis for murdering his wife. It was urgent because we were afraid he’d go after his daughter, who’d witnessed it. We knew Tavilla had seen Gage Jarvis because you gave us that photo, Thorne.’
‘That I got from my contact Ramirez,’ Thorne said grimly. ‘Who is now dead. You’re saying that Tavilla just showed up? How’d he get past security?’
‘Good question. He wasn’t on the security camera in the lobby, which meant someone found an alternative way to get him in here. We opened an investigation, but didn’t get anywhere. As far as I know, it’s still an open case in IA.’
‘We figured that Tavilla had inside contacts,’ Joseph said, his jaw grim. ‘He’s been able to stay a few steps ahead of us for years. Fuck. I didn’t like that prick Brickman either.’
‘What do we do with this information?’ JD asked him quietly. ‘Is Hyatt compromised?’
Joseph grimaced, agitated. ‘Shit.’ He straightened his spine and smoothed his expression. ‘We’ll keep the news about Tristan quiet for now. I’ll tell Hyatt myself after this meeting with Dr Colt. If Brickman is in the room, I’ll find a reason to get him to leave.’
‘This should be interesting,’ Thorne muttered. He put his arm around Gwyn and drew her close. She leaned into him, her step momentarily faltering.
She was terrified for the boy she’d had to watch growing up from afar, and she had every right to be. She’d seen what had been done to Patricia first-hand and she knew about the others. He had no words of comfort, so he tightened his grip, holding her up.
‘Just a little longer, baby,’ he whispered, hoping like hell that was true. Her nod was jerky, but she was still with him, so he’d have to be satisfied with that.
He braced himself as he stepped into the conference room, the same room he’d been brought to after Gwyn and Stevie had been shot at. Right after they’d talked with Brent Kiley, the EMT. Who was now dead.
Colton Brandenberg came to his feet when they entered, his expression exhausted. And haunted. His sister remained seated beside his chair, giving Thorne a look of apology. He nodded to her, because he understood protecting one’s family. He’d do anything for his.
‘Tommy,’ Colton said quietly. ‘Or is it Thomas now?’
‘It’s just Thorne. Thank you for coming in.’
The man shook his head. ‘Don’t thank me,’ he said darkly. ‘Please.’
Shit, Thorne thought wearily. What now?
He helped Gwyn into a chair on the other side of the table and sat beside her, conscious of Frederick and Jamie behind him. Joseph took the chair on Thorne’s left and Hyatt made the introductions.
‘Dr Brandenberg wouldn’t tell us anything until you got here, Thorne,’ he said, his irritation clear. ‘Now that you are, let’s get this show on the road.’
Colton cleared his throat. ‘It’s Brandon Colt now, but people just call me Colt.’ He spoke with an accent that he hadn’t had when they were teens back in school, and Thorne wondered how long he’d been in Appalachia.
‘Why shouldn’t I thank you?’ Thorne asked. If Colt wasn’t going to help them, he’d rather know now than continue to hope for a revelation.
‘Because I should have said something nineteen years ago,’ Colt answered bitterly.
‘But I’m telling it now and I hope it will help.’ He drew a breath, gripping his sister’s hand hard. ‘My sister didn’t know any of these details until earlier this morning, when I arrived in town.’ He lifted a brow at Thorne. ‘I got your message. How did you track me down?’
‘I have enterprising friends.’
‘You must. No one’s found me in nineteen years. Because I changed my name and ran away.’ He blew out a breath. ‘Because I was a coward. I was terrified of Richard Linden’s father. And Gil Segal.’
Thorne stared at him. ‘Segal? Judge Segal? Why?’
‘Not now, not because he’s a judge. I was afraid of him back then. He was dating Patricia when she was in high school. Her parents had forbidden her to see him because he was so much older. He was in college and she was only fifteen. She didn’t listen.’
Beside him, Gwyn sighed softly, but said nothing. Thorne took her hand under the table and squeezed it.
‘Patricia was always unhappy,’ Colt continued. ‘At first we thought she was just moody. What the hell did we know? We were kids and we knew nothing about girls. By “we”, I mean me, Chandler and Darian. Richard was the expert. He’d had sex a lot more than we had. Trouble was, he had to force the girls to give it to him.’
‘You knew he was raping girls?’ Thorne asked.
‘No. Not at first. Not really until after we beat you up.’ He dropped his gaze. ‘For which I have been ashamed ever since.’ He looked up, met Thorne’s eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Tommy. I mean Thorne. I was one hundred percent wrong that day.’
Thorne wasn’t ready to accept his apology, so he just nodded. ‘Tell us about Patricia.’
‘Richard believed that Angie Ospina liked him. He wanted to believe it, at least. The day we beat you up, he’d boasted that she’d been all over him the night before. He suggested she might be up to taking a few of us on at once.’ He grimaced, as if still finding the notion contemptible. ‘Chandler and Darian were all for it. I . . . wasn’t. There was the typical macho bullshit. You know, asking if I was a pussy, or if I wasn’t into girls at all. What they didn’t know then is that I wasn’t.’
It took Thorne a second. Then . . . ‘Oh.’
Colt nodded grimly. ‘Yeah. Oh. I obviously wasn’t out then and it was critical to me to keep my secret. To seem as straight as I could be.’ He glanced at his sister. ‘Our parents were conservative. If they’d known, I’d have been thrown out.’
His sister’s smile was tight and sad and loving all at once. ‘I’d have taken you in.’
‘Like you could afford another mouth to feed back then,’ Colt said with a shake of his head. ‘But I know you would have tried.’
‘I always wondered why you hung with Richard and his friends,’ Thorne said. ‘You’d always been so nice before.’
‘I know. I hated them. I hated myself. I was a mess. Not all of my rage that day was aimed at you. I was having trouble at home too. When you did the right thing that day, saving Angie, something in me just snapped. All that self-loathing just . . . It took over and I just remember being so mad. Like I couldn’t see clearly. You were the most accessible target, and again, I’m sorry. I tried to find you after your trial, after I got my shit together, but you’d changed your name too.’
Thorne was more inclined now to give him absolution, but he’d wait to do so until they were alone. And after Colt actually gave them some useful information. ‘I understand your mental state at the time,’ was all he said. ‘Can you tell us about the day Richard was killed?’
Colt’s eyes registered the fact that Thorne had not accepted his apology, but he nodded. ‘Richard was at the school that night because he was going to take your bass and destroy it. Darian, Chandler and I went with him, but I had a last-minute panic attack and refused to go inside. They laughed at me and left me outside. They had a key to the school – Richard had stolen it from his father, who had it because he was on the board or some bullshit. But they left the door cracked open with a brick so that I could join them if I changed my mind. I ducked behind a bush when Gil Segal got there, and he was . . . well, like a charging bull. He didn’t see me, because I was hiding. Like a coward.’ He drew a steadying breath. ‘He grabbed the brick and ran inside. The door closed and locked behind him.’ Colt looked away, his eyes focusing on the past. ‘A few minutes later, the door busted open and Chandler and Darian came running out, white as ghosts and babbling that Gil was killing Richard, gutting him with a knife, screaming that he’d never put his filthy hands on Patricia again.’
He blinked, and his eyes refocused on Thorne. ‘They ran, Chandler and Darian. I tried to run too, but I was frozen. It couldn’t have been more than a minute later that you and Sherri arrived. I could see you on the curb, talking.’ He swallowed. ‘I always liked Sherri. She was kind to me, even though I was a mean, hateful mess.’
Thorne’s throat closed. ‘Yeah,’ he whispered hoarsely, vividly remembering the girl he’d loved. ‘She was kind.’
Gwyn squeezed his hand, resting her head against his arm. Understanding his grief. Not begrudging him a single memory of his first love. Gwyn was kind too, he thought. Under her sarcastic, prickly cactus exterior, she was a marshmallow. He had the sudden certainty that Sherri would have totally approved.
‘You and Sherri went inside with your key,’ Colt went on, ‘and a few seconds later Gil Segal came out, all wild-eyed and covered in blood. He looked around and I thought he’d see me, but he didn’t. He tossed a knife into a bush about five feet from the one I was hiding behind, then threw the brick . . . far. I don’t know how far away exactly, but it landed in the parking lot. Split into pieces.’
Thorne frowned. ‘That would have been close to a hundred feet.’
Colt shrugged. ‘I heard it hit. I was surprised too, when I was getting my thoughts together for this morning, but I also remembered that Gil was on the track team in college. He did shot-put. A brick weighs only about a third of what a shot weighs in college. He was big. And really strong. He fucking terrified me that day. Literally was huffing like a bull.’
‘The police never found the brick,’ Jamie said from behind them. ‘They did find the knife, though. What happened next?’
‘Gil stood there huffing, like I said. And then he just went still. Again, I thought he’d seen me, but he pulled a cell phone from his pocket. It was the same kind Richard had. It might have been Richard’s. He called 911 and reported intruders in the school. Said he could hear screams. Said for the cops to hurry. Then he hung up and ran away. Not like Chandler and Darian had done. He didn’t tear out of there like a bat out of hell. He just jogged to his pickup truck and drove off.’
Thorne sucked in a breath. ‘Pickup truck? Fucking hell. He killed Sherri and her father? Gil Segal, who’s now a fucking judge?’
Colt looked tired. ‘I don’t know for sure. Probably.’
Gwyn was pressing her forehead against Thorne’s arm and Jamie clutched his other shoulder. Supporting him.
‘Okay,’ Thorne breathed. ‘Okay.’ He closed his eyes because they were stinging with tears. I walked away. Allowed a killer to go free. I’m sorry, Sherri. I’m so damn sorry. He drew a breath, let it out. ‘What about the key ring?’
Colt looked ill. He opened his mouth, then sighed. ‘God.’
‘Just tell them,’ his sister urged. ‘It’ll all be over with.’
Colt’s nod was shaky. ‘It was the evening after we beat you up. We’d gone to Richard’s house because he had the best video game system and his parents had an unlocked bar. They weren’t home that night, the parents. Patricia came down to get some vodka and I remember thinking, “What the hell?” She was only fifteen.’ His lips twisted bitterly. ‘Richard poured her a drink and Patricia took it upstairs. Later, when we were all pretty drunk, Richard took out the key ring and dangled it in front of us. We were like, you drilled a hole in your medal, are you insane? He said it was his special good luck charm, not that he needed luck. He showed us a little baggie filled with powder. Called it his “yes dust”. Said it made them all say yes. Or at least not say no. Then he went upstairs. Came back down a little while later looking relaxed. Like he’d just gotten laid. Chandler and Darian were cheering him on. He gave them the key. Told them to go for it.’
Thorne swallowed back the bile that burned his throat. ‘He had a key to Patricia’s room?’
Colt nodded. ‘I . . . I left. Ran home. Threw up in the bushes on my way. I didn’t know what to do with the information. I started to tell my father when I got home, but he was going off about how you, Tommy, were a troublemaker. How I should stay away from thugs like you and stick with “guys with class”, like Richard. That making those friends in high school would pave the way when I got older. All I could think of was Richard dangling that key in front of us.’ He shook his head, his self-loathing written all over his face. ‘The next day at school, Richard and the others gave me hell for running away the night before. Questioned my masculinity again. When they decided to break into the school on Sunday night, I went with them. I actually had the thought that I could get that key away from Richard and throw it in the river. But Gil Segal must have found it first, because it ended up in Richard’s body.’
Thorne’s eyebrows shot up. ‘How did you know about that?’
‘I caught up with Darian and Chandler after they ran from the school. We met up at Darian’s house. The Hinmans didn’t have an unlocked bar, but they did have a fridge full of expensive beer. We got drunk again, and Darian and Chandler told me. They’d seen Gil shove the key in Richard’s gut after he sliced him open. Which was after he’d beaten his face in with the brick. We made a pact never to tell. Then I got home and heard that Sherri had been killed in a car accident. A hit-and-run. With a truck. I knew Gil had done it. I knew he’d kill me too if I said a word. So I didn’t. I let a killer walk free.’
His sister cleared her throat. ‘To be fair, Colt had a breakdown after that. He was catatonic. My mother called me. I was out of college and living on my own by then. I came straight home and Colt was in his room, rocking back and forth, mute.’
Like Gwyn, Thorne thought. After Evan.
‘You were hospitalized?’ Jamie asked Colt.
‘Yes. I was put on a seventy-two-hour suicide hold. When I got out, my father sent me to a private clinic. I was allowed out to testify in Thorne’s trial. I never told anyone at the clinic what had happened. Maybe I would have healed faster if I had. I did heal, though, enough to be on my own. I was scared to go home. Scared to run into Darian or Chandler or, worse, Gil. One thing that did come out of therapy was me.’ He made a face. ‘My parents were less than enthusiastic. Cut me off financially. I decided to make a break of it and change my name. I got into a decent school and took on loans for med school, payable with service in disadvantaged communities. I paid off my financial obligations years ago, but I stayed.’
‘Penance,’ Thorne murmured.
‘Yes,’ Colt confirmed. He spread his hands on the table. ‘That’s all. I hope it helps.’
Joseph and Hyatt shared a glance. ‘We can get warrants now,’ Joseph said.
Hyatt nodded. ‘This together with Eileen Gilson’s testimony can get us a warrant for Linden Senior’s financial records.’
‘And for his house?’ Gwyn asked, startling them. She hadn’t spoken a word since they’d entered the room. ‘Because if Richard had a key back then, someone put a lock on Patricia’s door. And if someone put the lock there, they knew she had reason to need to protect herself.’
‘Her parents,’ Colt said grimly. ‘One or both of them knew she was being molested by Richard.’
‘Or at a minimum that he’d assaulted others, or had a predilection,’ Gwyn said. ‘They knew the significance of that key. They paid Kirby Gilson for it before Richard’s body was autopsied. If the key became public, they’d have to acknowledge that they were harboring a sexual predator.’
‘You’re right,’ Thorne murmured. He hadn’t thought of that. ‘Thank you.’
A kiss to his biceps was her answer.
‘What about Segal?’ JD asked. ‘He knew too. He murdered Richard and then covered it up. We need to get a warrant for his arrest too.’
‘We can bring him in for a chat,’ Joseph said. ‘I’d like to hear about his tie to Tavilla.’
‘I’ll ask him to come in,’ Hyatt said. ‘They have the viewing today, but it doesn’t start for a few hours.’
Everyone started to move, but Frederick and Jamie both lifted their hands. ‘Excuse us,’ Frederick said. ‘But as Thorne’s attorneys, we want to clearly state that we expect a statement from the BPD and the FBI formally clearing him of any and all suspicion. Dr Colt wouldn’t be here today were it not for Thorne’s request. His businesses and his integrity have been hit hard by these blatant attempts to frame him.’
Thorne had to swallow again, this time out of gratitude. His guys had his back.
‘We also expect this statement to be made in a press conference dedicated to this purpose,’ Jamie continued. ‘It will not be buried in the verbiage of statements on other topics, nor will it be attached at the end of another press conference like an afterthought.’
Jamie wasn’t asking. He was telling. And both Hyatt and Joseph were nodding. ‘We can do that,’ Joseph said.
‘Excuse me,’ Colt’s sister cut in. ‘But what about Colt? The other two in Richard’s circle of friends are dead. Will you protect my brother?’
Joseph stood. ‘We can do that too. Come with me, Dr Colt. We’ll get you situated in a temporary safe house.’ He turned to Thorne. ‘I want the rest of you to go home. Lay low. Let Hyatt and me do our jobs.’
Thorne nodded. ‘Of course.’ But he had no intention of hiding in Clay’s house. He had to find leads on locations for Anne Poulin and Laura, because they would lead him to Tavilla. The wheels of justice moved too slowly and he wanted his friends – his family – out of danger.