When the Smoke Clears (Deadly Reunions) (11 page)

Hunter wasn’t so sure.

Friends, neighbors, gossips—even her own family—had placed the blame squarely on Alexia’s shoulders. And she’d never denied it. Or confirmed it.

The girl he remembered from high school simply wouldn’t do that. He’d watched her for almost his entire senior year of high school, waiting for her to offer him the slightest bit of encouragement after her breakup with Devin.

But she’d never given it. Holding herself aloof from everyone except for the two friends who’d stood by her side. He had a couple of buddies that he considered pretty good friends, but he had to admit, none of them had been through anything like Alexia and her family. Alexia, Serena—and Jillian. The troublesome trio.

“Whatever happened to Jillian Carter?”

A sigh slipped from her. “Now there’s a mystery you could put your talents to good use on solving.”

“Rumor was that she just disappeared one night. I remember her boyfriend was a zombie when he realized she was gone for good.”

“Graduation night.” Her eyes flickered and he wondered at the secrets behind them. “I’m not sure what happened.”

Alexia paused so long that he wondered if she was going to continue or not. She did.

“Jillian came to the dance that night at the school gym. She was crying, scared. Said she saw something but couldn’t tell us what or we’d be in danger too. I haven’t seen her since.”

“That’s weird.”

“No kidding.”

Hunter watched her very expressive face. A face he’d been entranced with his senior year. “So she was fine at graduation?”

“Seemed to be.”

“Then she came to the dance upset?”

Alexia thought about it. “No. She was beyond upset. She was terrified.”

“And she was too scared to tell you what she saw.”

“Exactly. But I think it was more like she was afraid of what might happen to
us
—Serena and me—if she told.”

Hunter tapped the wheel as he drove, his thoughts whirling. “I wonder what she could have seen.”

“I don’t know.” Alexia rubbed her eyes. “I don’t even know where she’d been before the party.”

Hunter made a mental note to do some checking into any criminal activity that may have happened that night. At least the stuff that was reported. It was very likely Jillian could have witnessed something that had never come to light. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to check. But first, he had a murder to solve.

15

Wednesday, 8:26 a.m.

Alexia watched her mother’s house come into her line of sight. Hunter parked in the drive and she started to open the door. A warm hand on her forearm stopped her. She raised her eyes to his. “What?”

“I did some research into Devin’s background last night.”

“Last night? Have you slept at all?”

A smile curved. “I don’t need much sleep. Anyway, turns out he came from a pretty good home. His parents are still together, but they’ve been out of town on a trip to California. As soon as they got the word about Devin, they began making arrangements to head home.”

“When will they get here?”

“Around seven tonight. I’m going to meet them at their house about seven thirty.”

Alexia easily pictured the nice house in the middle-class neighborhood about five miles north of her mother’s house. “I used to go home with Devin after school.”

Hunter nodded. “They seem to be a nice couple. Quiet, reserved, but nothing that made the radar blip.”

“Then why was he living with my mother? Seems like if he was having financial trouble, he would have moved home with his parents.”

His brows furrowed. “I’m not sure. That might be something you want to ask your mom. And it’s definitely on my list of questions to ask when I see them tonight.”

“I’ll ask her if I get a chance.”

He nodded toward the house. “What do you think you’re going to find in there?”

“I don’t know.” Biting her lip, she studied the structure. Crime scene tape still wrapped the front porch. “Maybe the reason Devin was living here and why everyone seems to think my mother is a changed woman—and if she is, what changed her.”

“God can change people.”

She was quiet for a moment, then said, “I have a hard time picturing the popular, life-of-the-party football star Hunter Graham as a . . .” She paused, not wanting to be rude. “Well, as someone who is now into religion.”

A slight flush dusted his cheeks. “I know. In high school, I enjoyed being in the limelight. And you’re right, I could party with the best of them. But”—he shrugged—“I was also going to church with my parents and listening to the teachings of the youth pastor. One day, in college, I woke up and realized I wasn’t so interested in being hung over every weekend and wanted something more out of life.”

She eyed him, seeing his sincerity. It made her even more curious about him. “I guess I can understand that.”

“Thanks.”

Taking a deep breath, she pulled out her key and had a moment of déjà vu. Blinking, she gave her head a shake.

Hunter’s hand came up to rest on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“I keep picturing Devin in the basement, his life slowly seeping through my fingers.” She could still see the blood on her hands.

His hand slid from her shoulder to grasp her left hand, letting his fingers entwine with hers. She jerked, but not away from him. She blurted, “Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?”

His flush deepened. “I decided you were innocent until proven guilty.”

“In spite of what your partner thinks?”

He gave a rueful smile. “In spite of what she thinks.”

“But I’m still guilty in your father’s eyes, aren’t I?”

Without taking his gaze from hers, he sighed. “He’s always believed you started that fire on purpose because your father said you did.” A pause, then a searching look. “Did you?”

She stared at him, trying to find some righteous anger at his query. But she couldn’t.

“I don’t know.”

His left brow raised. “You don’t?”

She looked away, back at the house that held so many memories. “No. I don’t.” Pulling in a shuddering breath, she said, “I remember the fire. I remember my sister screaming. I remember my dad’s anger and my mother . . .” She frowned. “I don’t remember much about her. And I don’t remember what started the fire.”

“Then why were you blamed for it?”

She looked at him. “Because my father said it was my fault and your father believed him.”

“But my dad couldn’t prove it.”

“Apparently that didn’t matter.”

Her abrupt answer didn’t faze him. “You were never charged with anything, so that meant even though my dad may have believed your dad, he didn’t have proof.”

Alexia arched a brow. She hadn’t thought of it that way.

“Where was your brother?” he asked.

“He’d already left home.”

After a minute of intense silence, Alexia finally climbed from the car.

This time, Hunter didn’t stop her.

“I thought you were trained for this kind of thing.” The voice turned cold, hard. Dangerous. “Attacking her in the parking garage wasn’t part of the plan. I don’t need her dead yet, I need information from her.”

“I know, I wasn’t going to kill her. I just thought—”

“That’s the problem. You don’t need to think. That’s my job. When you think, you do stupid things like killing Devin Wickham.”

“Devin was an accident. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I had no choice. He saw me and recognized me even with the mask on. No more stupid mistakes, I promise.”

Good. He inhaled slowly, then exhaled, taking on the role of parent once again. “Now, are you using the prepaid cell I gave you?”

“Yes.”

“Good, just keep—”

“Look, I didn’t know Devin was going to be there. He was supposed to be at work. He got a new job, you know, and I thought it was her and—”

“It’s over and done with. Here’s the way we’re going to do this from now on, all right?”

“Yes sir. I’m listening.”

The house had been cleared by CSU and released back to the owner—her mother—so Alexia’s returning here wasn’t a problem. However, Hunter wondered at the emotional toll the visit would take on her.

“The grass still needs cutting,” she said as he watched her step inside the house. He monitored each expression that flitted across her face.

After a brief pause in the small foyer, she went straight to the kitchen. “I noticed these here yesterday. Mom would have a fit if she saw these dirty dishes stacked in the sink like this.”

He stepped behind her. “Then let’s wash them.”

Alexia looked around for a dishtowel, then gasped when her eyes landed on the stainless steel appliance. “She got a dishwasher!”

Nearly laughing at the expression on her face, he managed to swallow the chuckle and ask seriously, “And that’s shocking?”

She grimaced. “That sounded crazy, didn’t it?” Running her hand over the dishwasher, she shook her head. “Dad would never put one in. Said it kept her busy. Idle hands were the devil’s tools.”

“Ah.”

She cut him a glance. “Yeah. A bigger hypocrite you’ve never met.”

“I’m sorry.”

A shoulder lifted. “Doesn’t matter now, I guess.”

“You said your brother, Dominic, was gone before the fire. Whatever happened to him?”

She froze. Pulled in a deep breath, then let it out slowly as though sifting through the information in her mind, trying to figure out what to share with him. Then again, he could go back to his office and pull any information he wanted. “When he was seventeen, he was arrested for dealing drugs. Shortly after that, he ran away.”

“Why?”

“Because he hated our dad. And . . . I’m the one who turned him into the cops for dealing drugs.”

A brow lifted. “I don’t remember that.”

“Well, it didn’t make the eleven o’clock news, but it stirred things up around here pretty good.” Her lips twisted in derision as she loaded the dishwasher.

She placed the last dish in the rack, reached under the sink for the detergent, and filled the cup. Shoving the door shut, she turned the machine on and a low hum filled the air.

“So, what’s Dominic doing now?” he asked.

Alexia shrugged. She grabbed a rag to wipe out the sink. “I don’t know. I tried to find him about three years ago, but I didn’t have any luck. A private investigator was too expensive and—” another halfhearted shrug—“I took that to mean he didn’t want to be found, for some reason.”

“So you quit looking.”

“Yep.”

She tossed the rag onto the counter and looked around the house, eyes studying every detail. He could only imagine the memories flooding through her.

Taking another deep breath, she said, “But maybe it’s time to start searching again. Maybe in order to find a measure of peace, it’s time to try and lay all the ghosts in my past to rest.” Alexia flushed and cut her eyes to the floor. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m sharing all this with you.” She looked back at him. “When did you get so easy to talk to?”

It was his turn to feel the heat climbing up his neck. “If you’d been interested, you could have found out back in high school.”

Her jaw dropped as she paused midstep toward the door, and he let out a laugh.

“What? You didn’t know?”

“No, I didn’t know. How was I supposed to know that?”

He felt a silly grin spread across his face. “You were a freshman, I was a senior. I was too cool to date a freshman.” He ducked his chin and glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “I wish I hadn’t been so cool.”

The flush that graced her cheeks made him grin wider. Then he frowned and sighed. “And my dad would have killed me.”

Alexia grimaced and tightened her jaw. “Yeah, couldn’t go against Dad, could you?”

He ignored her bitter words. “Then the night you and Chad and Christine all graduated . . . I realized I wanted to get to know you more—regardless of what my father would say. Then you disappeared on me.”

His confession seemed to knock her for a loop. She cleared her throat and said, “I had no idea, Hunter.”

“I know.” He shrugged. “I had just gotten home from college. It was the first time I’d seen you in three years, and you didn’t seem interested in me—or any other guy for that matter.”