Young Truths (Young Series) (24 page)

I smile. “You seem to have that effect on most people you come across,” I mutter.

His smirk returns. “After that, someone thought it would be amusing for us to work together as often as possible. I think if he’d had his choice, he would have thrown me into a jail cell every time we met. I just enjoyed pissing him off. It wasn’t until about six months after we met that we started to get along. We somehow ended up in the same bar completely by chance and after a couple beers, he realized I was more than just a spoiled brat CEO.” I snort my disagreement, which he ignores. “We’ve been working together ever since.”

He pauses for a few moments, looking over at me. “He was the reason I went to Omaha last summer. I’d been away from home for a while on business and I was aware of a new threat existed, but I didn’t really think much of it. Marcus was the one who realized you and Tyler might be in danger. He wanted to essentially put you in the witness protection program the moment he figured out what was going on. I’m the one who thought he was overreacting. It wasn’t until we found out the people following you around were that I really understood what was happening. You can’t imagine how pissed off I was at myself that I blew him off; he’s got a way of seeing through situations to their outcome and the one time I should have listened to him without question, I didn’t.”

“You did eventually,” I remind him. “And it worked out in the end.”

He raises an eyebrow at me. “Did it?” he asks dully.

“Yes,” I say firmly. “Look at us now: we’re together again. We have a new baby daughter. The whole world seems to want to go to shit around us, but at least we’ve got this.”

He smiles softly. “Yeah, we do,” he whispers.

I hesitate for a few moments, working out what I want to say next. “Matt?” I look down at Olivia as I speak. “Is something wrong?” Even with the space between our chairs, I feel his body tense up. “You’ve been so quiet these last couple days and I know something is bothering you. Please tell me.”

He sighs heavily and I can’t tell if he’s preparing to talk or tell me to not worry about it. I’m prepared for the latter as I meet his steady, troubled gaze. He opens his mouth to speak a few times, but his phone rings from down the hall before he can actually say anything. Both of us look towards the hallway in slight confusion, though I swear he lets out a sigh of relief. “Who the hell is calling at three in the morning?” he grumbles, pushing himself out of his chair. “I’ll be right back.”

I look back at my daughter. “At this rate, Olivia, you’ll be driving before he finally opens up to me...”

Fifteen minutes later, Olivia has finished eating; I’ve changed her diaper, and place her back in her crib. I leave the room with the intention of hunting down my husband and demanding he answer my question. I find him in our bedroom, standing beside the bed, his cell phone still held loosely at his side. “Matt?” I say again, crossing over to him. The look on his face is one of shock and sadness and confusion. Oh God... “Matt, talk to me.”

He looks at me after a minute or so, having not realized before now that I’m here. “Sam,” he whispers brokenly.

“What?” I ask as he pulls me into his arms tightly. “What is it?”

He takes a shuddering breath and moves us to sit on the edge of the bed, not loosening his hold on me. “Bonnie,” he whispers. “She’s gone.”

Today has been a complete blur. From the moment I got the phone call to right now, I barely know what I’m doing or why I’m doing it. I held Samantha for hours until she cried herself to sleep, which was around sunrise, then went about making phone calls I don’t remember, getting breakfast for Tyler, even feeding Olivia. I got Tyler to school, came back home, and crawled back into bed with my wife until more phone calls started coming through. Those woke her. I vaguely remember speaking to Claire and looking over to find Samantha wide awake with an expression on her face that suggested she was trying to work out whether last night was a nightmare. I had to tell her it wasn’t and watch her breakdown in tears again.

Now we’re sitting in the living room on the couch while Olivia sleeps on my wife’s chest. Neither of us has said much today.

“Who called you?” she asks hoarsely out of the blue. I frown questioningly at her. “This morning, to tell you about Bonnie.”

I sigh. “Hospital,” I say dully. “She seems to have listed me as one of her emergency contacts after Mark. When they couldn’t reach him, they called me.” Samantha nods and goes back to staring into space. “I asked, they said it was quick and painless. Happened in her sleep so she didn’t even realize. She’d gone in yesterday evening for treatment and they were worried about some blood test they’d taken, so they decided to keep her overnight.” I stop suddenly, realizing I said a little too much. I still haven’t told Samantha about Bonnie’s illness and she hasn’t mentioned whether Bonnie did when she visited Samantha in the hospital.

“She told me,” Samantha says quietly, reading my mind. “I’ve known for a while, Matt. I know the signs and the way the two of you skimmed over details when you talked to me about it... Anyway, I knew.”

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly, uncertain for what I’m apologizing.

She gives me a shadow of a smile. “It’s fine. Actually, I’m kind of glad no one came out and told me; I was able to live in denial a little longer.”

I don’t know how to respond to that, so I don’t.

“Wait,” Samantha says some time later. “They couldn’t get a hold of Mark?”

I shrug. “Apparently not,” I respond. “Maybe he was asleep.”

Her brow is furrowed deeply in thought. But I haven’t got much time to dwell on it before my phone rings for what has to be the hundredth time today. It’s Marcus. Swallowing hard, I glance at Samantha who isn’t paying any attention to me at all.

“Hello?” I say quietly, heading out the backdoor.

“Bad time?” Marcus replies tiredly.

I sigh. “Sort of. What’s up?”

“Confirmation came back. It was Lucy Boyd.” It takes me a minute to realize what he’s talking about—losing Bonnie seems to have pushed everything else out of my mind. “Cause of death was a gunshot wound, but there are signs that she was strangled as well. My guess is whoever killed her started with that, but they weren’t strong enough, so they went for the gun.”

“Any leads?”

“None so far, but we did find something on her computer you’re going to want to see,” Marcus informs me. “It’s an email draft addressed to you.”

“What?” I say in surprise. “To me?”

“Yes. It doesn’t say much—she’d been trying to call you, but you weren’t returning her calls so she thought she’d email you. From the looks of it, she was trying to warn you about someone or something. The last sentence started with ‘don’t trust’ then it was a bunch of random letters and punctuation marks.”

“Helpful,” I mutter, rubbing my forehead to help stave off the coming migraine. “”That’s it? That’s all it said?”

“I think whoever killed her did it while she was writing that email.”

“Anything else?” I ask tiredly.

Marcus is silent for a moment. “What’s wrong with you? I figured you’d be eager for information.”

Sighing heavily, I lean against the building. “A friend of mine died this morning,” I say quietly. “Bonnie. You met her a couple times.”

“Yeah, I remember her. I’m sorry, Matt. You holding up okay?”

I shrug even though he can’t see me. “I’m more worried about Samantha, but yeah, I’m all right, I suppose.”

“Look, I’ll take care of this thing with Lucy Boyd. Take care of your wife and let me know if you need anything.”

After finishing my conversation with Marcus, I head back inside to find Samantha also on the phone. “No, we got the call this morning,” she says. “Where are you? The hospital said they couldn’t reach you.”

Great. She’s talking to Reilly. I sit beside her and take Olivia from her chest. She gives me a small, faint smile. “Well, let us know if there’s anything we can do. No, I’m okay, really. I don’t think it’s really hit yet...”

I head upstairs so she can finish her conversation and I can have a moment alone. In my reflection, I suddenly recall the day Samantha and Olivia came home and how Claire accosted me almost the second I stepped out of the elevator. She was telling me something about Mark Reilly talking to somebody over the phone about Samantha. He claimed he’d been speaking to Jessica. I’d completely dismissed my sister’s concerns at the time, but now it’s all I can think about. Claire had been worried about Reilly’s behavior when before she practically drooled over him at every opportunity. A person doesn’t go from that to suspicion for no reason.

The question is who was Reilly talking to about my wife? If it was Jessica, that’s fine, though I’m not sure why she would call him about visiting Samantha after giving birth rather than me. She and Samantha have become friends since meeting at Claire’s for Thanksgiving dinner; she wouldn’t have any problem calling one of us.

And why would such a devoted nephew not be reachable when his beloved aunt was in the hospital? If I’d known Bonnie was there, I would have been there and she’s not even my blood. It pisses me off that he wasn’t with her when she died. She deserved to have all the people she loved most surrounding her, but she didn’t. She was alone.

If I didn’t have reason enough to loathe Mark Reilly before, I think I’ve got it now.

Downstairs, I hear knocking on the front door. I grudgingly get off the bed and head down. The knocking has gotten louder as Samantha and Olivia answer the door. When I reach their side, I see a pair of police officers and realize my shit day has only just begun.

“Matthew Young?” the first one asks.

“Yes,” I say, carefully placing myself between them and my wife.

“Sir, we need you to come with us.” I glance down at the hand of the second officer’s hand where I half-expect to see a pair of handcuffs, because that would be just my luck today.

I raise an eyebrow. “Why? What’s this about?” I ask sharply. The moment the words are out of my mouth, I know the answer. My eyes dart over to Samantha, who’s looking between me and the officers in confusion.

“We just have a few questions for you.”

“Matt?” Samantha whispers almost fearfully. “What’s going on?”

Sighing, I turn towards her. “Do me a favor,” I respond calmly. “Call Claire and Danny. Ask Claire to pick up Tyler from school; ask Danny to meet me at the police station. Then call Marcus. He’ll know what this is about.” I turn back towards the officers. “My car or yours, gentlemen?”

“Matt!” Her tone is almost hysterical. I can’t blame her—in the past few days she’s given birth, lost one of her closest friends, and now this.

“Everything will be fine,” I tell her, kissing her briefly, then Olivia. “I promise. Take care of the babies. I’ll be home soon. I love you.”

With that, I gesture at the police officers to lead the way back outside towards their car. It’s going to be a long night.

The headache I’d been hoping to avoid earlier this evening has turned into a full blown migraine. Upon my arrival to the state police headquarters, I was informed I wasn’t under arrest, but I also wasn’t allowed to turn around and go back home. I was here nearly an hour before Marcus arrived looking pissed.

“Thought you were handling this?” I asked him sardonically. “How is this handling it?”

He’d glared at me and sat down beside me, giving me the summary of why I’m here. Despite sending me away from the house the other day when we discovered Lucy’s body in the lake to avoid a scene like this, he’d been overruled. There is too much circumstantial evidence surrounding me and Lucy for the police to just ignore me. She was in the lake right behind my house. She’d been calling me for a week before her disappearance. She was drafting an email for me. Marcus believes there is more that even he is unaware of, but he can’t imagine what that might be.

So far I haven’t been questioned about anything. When I was informed that I’m not under arrest but still unable to leave under my own free will, I immediately requested the presence of my lawyer who should be here any minute. In the meantime, my mind is on Samantha. The look of abject panic in her eyes is burned in my mind and I suddenly wish I’d told her about this mess with Lucy before now. I can only imagine what is going through her mind right now and I’m going to have hell to pay when I finally get home.

There’s a knock on the door of the small interrogation room where I’ve been sitting since my arrival and it opens, revealing my brother-in-law Danny who also doubles as my legal counsel. Clearly, he bolted out the door almost the moment Samantha called—he’s wearing faded jeans and a hooded sweatshirt depicting some sort of robot. Not exactly what I consider an imposing look for a lawyer, but I’ll take it.

He looks between me and Marcus, and shakes his head. “You know,” he begins, placing his briefcase on the table in front of me before taking a seat himself, “when I first met your sister, I knew she’d be trouble. And I was right. What I never considered to be even a remote possibility was that her brother would be ten times worse.”

Marcus snorts a laugh. I glare at both of them. “Are you getting me out of here or not?” I ask irritably.

Danny sighs and sits. “For the moment, not. They’re holding you on suspicion of conspiracy to impede a murder investigation.” He opens a folder. “Lucy Boyd.” He stares at the paper he’s looking at for several moments in shock, then his eyes shoot to mine. “Lucy’s dead?”

I nod. “Apparently so,” I say quietly. “She was floating in the lake behind the house.”

“Who found her?” he asks sharply.

“I did,” I answer. “Marcus, Tyler, and I were there to check out the fire damage and I wandered out onto the dock and found her. Marcus told me to get out of there and I did. I haven’t had a chance to do much about it, what with the baby and all.”

Danny sighs and nods. “Well, it’s not really looking good for you. Your fingerprints are all over her apartment.”

This is news. “That’s not possible,” I say firmly. “I don’t even know where her apartment is!”

“Let me see that.” Marcus thrusts out a hand to get the folder from Danny.

“The only bit of good news is that time of death has been determined to be three days ago in the early afternoon,” Danny goes on. “Your alibi that day is better than solid—Samantha was in labor then and dozens of people can confirm you were there. The hospital has cameras and that footage will be pulled and reviewed. They can’t say you killed her.”

The door opens again and the three of us turn to find the two detectives who came to the hospital to ask me about Lucy’s disappearance enter. Sedler and Watts, if I remember correctly.

“Matthew Young,” Watts says as they sit across from me. “Now I’ve been wondering since the other day... Are you the same Matthew Young who managed to avoid getting on a plane the same day it exploded over... where was it? France?”

It was Germany, but I don’t bother correcting them.

“Hell of a coincidence,” Watts says, feigning being impressed. “A lot of people died that day, didn’t they?”

“I don’t think this pertains to the reason Mr. Young is here right now,” Danny says coldly, looking at the detectives evenly.

Watts raises his hands in apology and sits back in his chair while his partner takes over. “Mr. Young, we asked you a few days ago whether you were acquainted with Lucy Boyd. You said yes. We asked you if you’ve been in contact with her. You said she called you, but you ignored the calls, and when you called her back, no one answered. You also said you haven’t interacted with her since last summer, yet your fingerprints were found in her apartment. Care to explain how that happened?”

Danny gives me a warning glance to keep quiet. “Is my client being charged with anything or are you just throwing things on the table?” he asks bluntly. I hide a smirk; normally, my brother-in-law is a mild-mannered geek who would happily spend all his days watching sci-fi reruns on television. It’s not often I see him like this. I’m impressed. “Because unless you have some real evidence that links him to Lucy Boyd the day she was murdered, everything else is only circumstantial and all you’re doing is defaming his character.”

“Is that so?” Sedler asks. “Mr. Ellis, your client has a history with the victim and it’s not exactly a friendly one. People we have interviewed so far have told us whenever Mr. Young and Miss Boyd have interacted in recent years, it’s almost always hostile.”

“And who are these people you’ve interviewed?” Danny asks, taking a notepad and pen from his briefcase. He poises the pen over the paper and gives the detectives an expectant look.

“Not the point,” Watts says dismissively. I exchange glances with Danny and Marcus, both of whom look as though they’re losing their tempers quickly. “Mr. Young, it seems wherever you go, trouble follows. Ignoring the plane crash, your family was kidnapped by yet another ex-girlfriend, then your son was taken again by that same woman, people end up dead in the backyard of your home which was nearly burned to the ground. You’ll have to excuse us if we don’t automatically assume your innocence.”

“So what is it you’re accusing him of?” Marcus asks.

“We’re not accusing anyone of anything, Agent West,” Sedler claims. “We’re merely having a conversation about fingerprints found in the apartment of a dead woman that belong to a man who claims not to have seen her in several months.”

“This is ridiculous,” I mutter. “I don’t know how my fingerprints got there.”

“Matt...” Danny says warningly.

I ignore him. “I haven’t seen Lucy in several months. I’ve had no urge to see her. I’m sorry she’s dead, but I had nothing to do with it and I have no idea who does. As for the other incidents you mentioned, yes, I’ve had a very rough year and this isn’t exactly helping. So unless you can tell me exactly how I was supposed to be involved with her disappearance and murder, I’d really like to get home to my wife and children.”

“So you have no idea why they want to question him?”

Rolling my eyes at Claire for asking the same question a dozen times, I shake my head. “No, I don’t,” I tell her again. “We were sitting here talking, he got a phone call and went outside, Mark called me about Bonnie, and the next thing I know he’s getting into a police car.”

“Danny will take care of him,” she promises me. “You know that, don’t you?”

I nod. “I know. I only wish I knew what it is he’s supposed to be taking care of.”

It’s nearly eleven o’clock and we haven’t heard a word from anybody about Matthew. I’m confused and upset and angry and scared, and nothing Claire does or says can change that. The only time I feel in control of my emotions or actions is when I’m tending to Olivia and Tyler. But once I’m done with that, I’m back to sitting on the couch beside Claire, biting my nails and staring at the clock.

“Can I ask you something?” Claire asks hesitantly. I give her a noncommittal shrug. “About Mark?” Sighing, I resign myself to whatever is coming next. “How well do you know him? I mean, I know you two are friends and you’ve hung out a few times, but how much do you actually know about him?”

“Is this really the time to discuss this?” I ask her. She just watches me, waiting for my answer. I sigh. “Pretty well, I guess. I don’t know his deepest, darkest secrets. I know he was top of his class at medical school. He grew up with his mom and his half-sister. He had his own practice for a while, and decided he needed a change in scenery, so he contacted Bonnie...” I trail off momentarily, suddenly remembering what we were dealing with before the police arrive. Claire slides over and squeezes my hand in comfort. When I go on, my voice is thick with emotion. “He’s got a dog. He was going to propose to Jessica, but she said she wanted a break because he wanted to stay here with Bonnie instead of going to meet her parents.”

This seems to get Claire’s attention, but she doesn’t comment on it immediately. “Do you trust him?” she whispers.

My brow furrows. “Why wouldn’t I?”

She takes a deep breath. “I don’t know. Maybe Matt’s paranoia is rubbing off on me or something, but the day you and Olivia got out of the hospital—”

She’s interrupted by the apartment door opening. We swing our heads in that direction to find Matthew, Danny, and Marcus entering. I’m on my feet before the door is closed, rushing into his arms. He lets out what seems to be a sigh of relief, whispering things into my hair, kissing whatever part of me he can reach. I pull back enough to look at his face. He’s tired, a little angry, but he’s unharmed. I crush my lips against his, kissing him like my life depends on it—at this point, I’m pretty sure it actually does depend on it. That’s a little frightening. I end the kiss and open my eyes, and I almost smile at the dazed look on his face. Rather than smiling, though, I start slapping him—his chest, his arms, his shoulders.

“Sam, calm down,” he says, backing away and covering himself for protection. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Actually, I think I’m going to hurt you,” I argue. “What the hell is going on around here?”

Claire gently pulls me away from him and I shake her off. Matthew sighs, running a hand through his hair. “We’ll talk,” he promises. “First, I want to see my children.”

Reasonable request. He doesn’t wait for me to answer, quickly making his way up the stairs, first into Olivia’s room, then a few minutes later, into Tyler’s. When he returns, the rest of us are still standing near the door. He darts his eyes over to us, heading into the kitchen. We follow him and I watch as he opens a beer and drinks it in a few large gulps. I haven’t seen him like this in a very long time, and it’s really starting to get to me. He gestures for us all to sit down at the table while he gets beers for the others and a soda for me. Sitting so close to him that I might as well be on his lap, I am, for the first time in hours, relaxed. Matthew is here, he’s safe, and that’s what matters.

“A couple weeks ago,” he finally begins, taking my hand and looking directly at me, “I started getting calls from Lucy.”

“I know,” I tell him quietly. His eyes widen in surprise. “Your phone rang one night when you were upstairs tucking Tyler into bed and I looked at it in case it was something important. I saw her name.”

His brow furrows. “You didn’t say anything,” he comments quietly. “Why not?”

“Because I was hoping you’d tell me yourself,” I reply, rolling my eyes. “Apparently that’s too much to ask for.”

He winces. “I was going to tell you,” he assures me. “But I didn’t know what she wanted and I had no real intention of calling her back. I didn’t want anything to do with her and I didn’t want to bother you with it if I didn’t have to.”

“You never answered?” Claire asks skeptically. “Not once?”

He shakes his head. “Nope,” he says. “I only tried calling her back once, but there was no answer, and after that, I tried to put it out of my mind. I was successful until the day Olivia was born. A couple detectives showed up at the hospital wanting to ask me some questions about her. They were investigating a missing person’s case—Lucy was the missing person.”

Claire gasps. “What?”

Matthew nods at her. “Of course I had no idea about it, but I was her last phone call and the last call she received before her disappearance. I thought I’d convinced them that I really knew nothing.” His eyes dart briefly over to Marcus. “The day you and Olivia left the hospital, Ty and I went to the house to meet Marcus to check out the fire damage, and...”

“And I found something in the lake,” Marcus interrupts. I don’t miss the look he gives Matthew. “Took me a minute to realize what it was, but when I did, I made sure to get Matt and Tyler off the property.”

“What was it?” I ask reluctantly.

Marcus hesitates for a moment. “It was a body,” he says quietly. “More specifically, it was Lucy Boyd’s body.”

Claire and I are both staring around the table at the men as though we’re waiting for the punch line to the joke. None of them are laughing. “She’s dead?” Claire asks in a whisper, shivering slightly. Danny scoots closer and wraps an arm around her. “How? When?”

“We’re still working on the specifics,” Marcus says.

“Why did the police come here for you?” I ask Matthew.

He swallows hard. “Because they believe I have something to do with it,” he says. “Apparently, though I have no idea how it’s even possible, they found my fingerprints in her apartment.”