Operation Reunion. Justine DavisЧитать онлайн книгу.
had be been on the verge of telling Kayla just that, only stopping himself because he couldn’t bear to see her face if he turned on her. Because that’s how she’d see it, he was sure.
In the end, he gave Quinn the answer that had always been his bottom line, even as he realized it stemmed more from his love for his own parents and an inability to relate to the idea of parental murder, than a real belief in Chad’s innocence.
“He had no reason to. They were good people. They loved him.”
“The police seem pretty certain. He was their only real suspect.”
“I know. After he ran, I don’t think they ever really focused on anyone else.”
“They’re a small department, overloaded, and they labeled the case cold fairly quickly. Not their fault—they just don’t have the manpower.”
“Kayla keeps pushing them, but…”
“They’re down to wanted posters and flyers and the occasional search of criminal databases, probably spurred by her pushing.”
“And everything is still focused on Chad.”
“Yes.”
“But Kayla’s right about the fact that there’s an innocent explanation for all the evidence,” Dane said, feeling the need to be fair despite it all. “They found cigarette butts with his DNA outside, but he always snuck out there to smoke. His fingerprints were on the den window, but that’s how he always snuck out.”
“All true.”
“But he ran,” Dane said, coming down to the final, damning fact.
“Never a good sign.” Quinn sounded completely neutral, like a man who truly hadn’t made up his mind. “If it wasn’t Chad, who do you think it could have been?”
He had spent literally years batting that one around in his mind. “The only one who ever seemed likely to me was Rod. He tried to hang with Chad, but Troy was too straight-arrow to like him, so that got in the way. For that matter, I always wondered why Troy hung with Chad—they were so different.”
“Why did Rod seem likely?”
“He scared Kayla once when she tried to stop him from some kind of twisted experiment with setting butterflies on fire. He…touched her.”
Quinn was silent for a moment. “And did he ever again?”
“No. He did not even go near her. Ever.”
“I see,” Quinn said with what sounded like amusement and understanding. “So, is this Rod still around?”
“Yeah. And he’s been in trouble a few times. Breaking into houses and stealing cash.”
“Sounds promising. Did the police look at him?”
“They did,” he admitted. “But he gave them an alibi they believed.”
Quinn didn’t miss the inference. “But you didn’t?”
“The alibi was that he was with another kid. One he used to harass. Unmercifully. Really harsh stuff. But the kid swore Rod was with him. The cops bought it, figured the kid had no reason not to but every reason to finger Rod if he could.”
“But?”
“After that, the harassment stopped.”
“So you think he made a deal with the kid?”
Dane shrugged. “Couldn’t prove it, but it seemed…coincidental, to say the least.”
“We’ll check him out,” Quinn said.
“What the hell can you do that the cops can’t?”
“We have resources. And sources. Time. The manpower. And we have an open mind about Chad’s guilt.”
“What if you come to believe he’s guilty?”
“Then we’ll tell Kayla just that. Gently but honestly. Hayley’s good at that.”
A memory of the couple as they’d stood together this morning in the park shot through his mind. Quinn had constantly been touching Hayley, and vice versa. Little brushes, a touch on the arm, brushing back an errant strand of hair. Even when they were clearly focused on something else, they were still touching, even if it was as simple as standing so close their arms touched. Not quite joined at the hip, but close.
Dane recognized it because he and Kayla were the same way.
Pain jabbed through him, knotting his gut. He and Kayla had been the same way.
“Can you really do this? Can you put an end to this one way or another?”
He didn’t care that he sounded angry. And he knew quite well he wasn’t asking the real question. Asking that would sound more pitiful than he was willing to sound before a man like Quinn Foxworth.
“We can. And we have people who will help Kayla deal with whatever we find.”
His confidence was bracing. Dane had spent so long being unable to do anything, about Kayla or her obsession, that he’d slid into unfamiliar territory—hopelessness.
If what he’d learned today was true, these people were the best and brightest at what they did. If they couldn’t find Chad, maybe Kayla would finally admit it was over, maybe she would finally move on.
Maybe he’d moved his things a bit too soon. He tried not to let hope rise too far. But it was one last shot, the last chance for them, and he couldn’t say no.
Chapter 5
Kayla tried to tamp down her excitement as she hurriedly made her bank deposit. She wouldn’t have stopped at all if her mortgage payment wasn’t set to go out in three days. But Hayley was gracious about the errand, waiting in her car, and as soon as Kayla was done here, they’d be on their way to what Hayley called the Foxworth building.
After a friendly goodbye to the teller, who happened to be her neighbor’s niece, Kayla stuffed her deposit receipt into her purse as she groped for her keys and the fob that would unlock her car door. At the same time, she tried to shoulder the heavy glass door of the bank open.
The door suddenly swung open. “Hey, pretty lady,” a familiar voice said, “let me get that for you.”
She looked up into the face of Chad’s best friend.
“Hi, Troy.” Troy Reid gave her a wide smile as he held the door for her. “How are you?” she asked.
Troy had been part of the fabric of her life ever since they’d moved here and he and Chad had become fast friends. Her parents had both liked him, and she suspected they’d secretly hoped some of his charm and friendly manner—and his politeness with adults—would rub off on her brother.
He shrugged. “Things are pretty grim here. I’m thinking of leaving soon.”
Kayla felt a surge of empathy. “I understand.”
“I admire you, Kayla. It takes courage to stay in the place that has so many ugly memories.”
“I’m in a different house, different neighborhood. That helps. But this is home for me. You always wanted to get out of here.”
“And I did, for a while,” he said with a wry smile.
“Did I ever tell you how wonderful I thought it was that you came back to take care of your mom after your dad died?”
“Yes,” he said, then with a smile added, “but you could tell me again.”
“It was.”
She meant it. It wasn’t just guilt that made her say it; she hadn’t made it to Troy’s dad’s funeral. It had been less than a month after the murders, and she just hadn’t been able to face it. Troy understood, had been more than kind