Cold Hearted (Cold Justice Book 6) (2 page)

Tanya placed her perfectly manicured hand along Cassie’s forearm. “You know what I meant.”

Always patient. Always reasonable.

Cassie swallowed the anger. She wasn’t patient, and she wasn’t reasonable. But Tanya was only trying to help. All her friends had been nothing but supportive throughout this entire nightmare.

“He says he’s okay.” Cassie swallowed the knotted lump of grief that had taken up residence in her throat and tried to find her rationality. “I think he just says that to make me feel better.”

“You going to visit him?” Tanya asked gently.

Cassie nodded. “I’m driving over with his dad at the end of the month. Drew doesn’t want me to come, but I—”

“Maybe he’s right.”

Cassie sat up on the messy bed. She knew where this was going. “Please don’t tell me I’m wasting my life. Drew
is
my life.”

Tanya grabbed Cassie’s hand and squeezed hard enough to hurt. “I just don’t want you to be sad for the next thirty years.”

Her vision blurred, but they both pretended Cassie wasn’t crying. Even she was sick of the incessant tears. “I won’t be.” She was lying. “Anyway, he can still appeal.”

There was an awkward silence when Tanya didn’t say anything. Cassie’s gaze shifted to the image on the front of a magazine. Easier to look at some movie star complaining about her messed up childhood than dealing with the sort of truth that dug holes in your soul.

“Hey,” Tanya said brightly, “there’s a party over at Riddell Hall. Wanna come with?”

Cassie shook her head.

“Come on. It’ll be fun,” her friend urged.

Going to a party would remind her of all the times she and Drew had hung out. She didn’t want to acknowledge the aching void of his absence—especially not in public.

“I have an assignment due tomorrow. I really need to finish it.” She crawled over to her bedside table in search of a tissue.

Tanya lightly flicked the magazine, mockingly. “Well, you better get on with it then.”

Cassie slumped back to the bed, ashamed of how piteous she’d become. “I can’t face seeing people,” she admitted. “Not yet. Maybe coming back to school was a mistake.”

“You did great. Take it slowly. You’ll get there, and we’ll all be waiting for you on the other side of this.”

Cassie nodded. The problem was there was no ‘other side.’ Drew’s loss was like a rip in her chest that got bigger every day. “The world thinks he’s a monster.”

Tanya wrapped her arms around Cassie in a quick hug. “We love him. We know he’s a good guy and would never touch those lying bitches.”

“I don’t know how this could have happened.”

“You can’t lock yourself away forever, Cass.”

But she wanted to.

She didn’t know why she’d come back this term, but hanging around her parents’ house with nothing to do was worse. Christmas had sucked balls. Now she needed to figure out a way to move on without giving up on the man she loved.

She gripped her friend. “I love you, Tan. I’m sorry I’m such a bitch.”

“I love you, too, baby.”

She forced herself to pull away and wiped her eyes. “I really do have an assignment to finish.”

“Then get to it, slacker.” Tanya gave her arm a noogie.

Cassie forced a smile. She’d blown off cheerleading practice earlier today, and if she did it again, the coach would throw her off the squad. She didn’t care, except it would screw with her scholarship, and her parents weren’t wealthy. She couldn’t afford to get thrown out of the program, and she needed a good GPA to have a hope of getting into law school. But every time the football players ran onto the field in their black and gold jerseys, it was like someone was pouring acid in her eyes. Knowing everyone’s life went on while Drew sat locked up in a cell. Her throat constricted. Some days it felt like the pain would consume her whole.

She stood and pushed her friend toward the door. “Go. Have fun. Kiss some hot guys for me.”

“If I can find someone worthy enough, I intend to do a lot more than kiss him. So don’t worry if I don’t come home tonight. I’ll text you.” Tanya grinned. “Mandy’s studying in her room. Alicia is still at the library but said she’d be back just after ten as per usual. She might come to the party later, so if you change your mind…”

“Maybe,” Cassie lied. “You be careful out there. Guard your drink,” she warned. Because if those women had been raped, there was still a dangerous criminal on the loose, and no one knew it.

“I will, honey. Jillian’s going to be here any minute to give me a ride.”

“Go. Have fun.”

Tanya turned and smiled at her sadly, touching her arm. Cassie felt the punch of it near her heart. “You’ll get through this, Cass. You don’t have to forget Drew, but you need to keep living your life. He’d want you to do that.”

Cassie’s lip wobbled as she remembered what he’d said in his letter. She crossed her arms over her chest as she watched her friend jog down the stairs, grab her coat, and race out the front door. She had to believe a miracle was going to happen and that Drew would be freed, but it seemed futile. The judicial process was so slow it took months to even schedule a court hearing. In the meantime Drew was forced to live amongst killers and thieves. Getting raped in the showers wasn’t something anyone should have to worry about. Who could live like that?

That bitch Donovan had a lot to answer for. The blonde detective probably thought this was over.

It wasn’t. It would never be over.

Anger grounded her. Without it she’d be so damn lost.

Across the hall, Mandy turned her music on full blast. Cassie slipped on her noise-canceling headphones and stared at her computer and thought about the paper she needed to finish. Instead she pulled out a pen and notepad and started to write back to the man she loved, stopping only once to wipe away the tears that insisted on falling.

D
etective Erin Donovan
got into her Ford F-150 truck, slammed the door, and turned the key in the ignition. The five-liter V8 engine roared to life. Today was her first day back after a Hawaiian vacation, and she was reeling from the ferocious drop in temperature combined with jet-lag that battered her senses.

She blasted the heater, giving it time to defrost the thin skim of ice that coated the interior of the windshield. She should check job vacancies on the islands—they needed cops in Hawaii, too, right? Living in Upstate New York was like living in a frickin’ refrigerator.

The town of Forbes Pines in St. Lawrence County was less than fifty miles from the border. They were so close to Canada they could practically smell the polar bears. She snorted at her own joke. Forbes Pines was a highbrow college town of about fifteen-thousand people and, up until about seven months ago, the natives had been friendly. The southern outskirts of town bordered the Adirondacks, and the whole area was spectacular, especially in fall when the trees changed color.

No matter how beautiful, it still didn’t feel like home. After the sensational trial that had ripped the town apart last December, she doubted it ever would.

She jammed the edges of her down parka together and rubbed her chapped hands. As a police officer, she prioritized access to her sidearm over comfort, but there was a fine line between safety and stupidity. Tonight she was seriously questioning which was more likely to kill her first—the cold or a perp. The mercury was in the low teens and sidewalks were piled with dirty ice and slush. It hadn’t snowed since Christmas Eve nearly two weeks ago. Not that she’d cared—she’d been too busy soaking up the sun on the white sand beach.

It had been her first vacation in years, and she hadn’t wanted to come back. She frowned, trying to remember the vacation before that. Her stomach lurched like a drunk on the subway when she did. Her honeymoon. God. The reminder was like a blow to the kidneys that robbed breath and made her insides bleed. She closed her eyes and was immediately assaulted by the image of Graham putting his off duty SIG Sauer P239 to his head. Her limbs twitched in a never-ending battle, torn between running toward him and running away.

She jerked her eyes open, heart pounding, sweat clammy on her skin. Her breath formed a cloud of vapor. Damn. She’d thought she was over the flashbacks. A tap on the glass had her heart exploding in her chest. She swiveled in her seat.
Shit.

Ully Mason, a patrol officer from the Forbes Pines Police Department, stood on the tarmac, stamping his size twelve boots on the unyielding ground. Trying to get her breathing under control, she moved her hand away from her sidearm and buzzed down the window.

“Got a call about a possible intruder at Cassie Bressinger’s place.” He eyed her steadily from under thick dark brows.

“Again? I thought things had calmed down over there?” Erin’s head hurt. Dispatch had been getting almost nightly calls for months now. She’d thought the fun and games had ended with the trial. Obviously not.

A small smile curved Ully’s mouth. He was a good-looking guy, and he knew it. “Guess they heard you were back.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.” The college kids had a better grapevine than Crimestoppers. Officially she was off duty, but if these bogus calls didn’t stop, the chief was going to have a coronary. “I’ll meet you there. If we don’t find any evidence of an intruder this time, we’ll arrest the caller for wasting police resources.” She checked her watch. Ten PM. “Let’s see if we can figure out a way to put an end to this bullshit.”

“I need to gas up on the way over.” Ully wrapped his fingers over the top of her window. “Don’t go in without me. I can just see the head of the cheer squad swearing under oath that she shot you in self-defense.”

“She’d enjoy it, too,” Erin agreed.

Ully let go of the glass and walked away to his black and white cruiser. Erin buzzed her window back up. As far as Cassie Bressinger was concerned, Erin was the devil incarnate. Maybe she’d give Cassie something to bitch about this time.

The frost finally cleared and warmth filled the cab. The Forbes Pines PD shared the large rambling red brick monstrosity of City Hall with the courthouse, DA’s office, and city offices. Politicians and lawyers liked to grandstand on the marble front steps. Cops and criminals skulked in the back entrance.

Erin pulled out of the police station and took Roosevelt Road, then turned right along Main Street past the beautiful park that gave the town a natural elegance. Tall elms and wrought-iron benches lined the central walkway. On the other side of the park, the old sandstone edifice of Blackcombe College gave Forbes Pines a dignified, moneyed air. The college dominated every aspect of the town with at least half the population being students, or former students who couldn’t bring themselves to move on. Faculty and staff made up a large proportion of the rest of the town, and most of the local businesses depended on the university for survival.

She often kidded with the other cops that they were more like campus cops than real police officers. That was before the trial made international headlines and cemented her position as Most Hated Woman in the county. Erin drove onwards, intending to do a big loop around the southern perimeter of university grounds to where the sorority and frat houses were located on the far eastern edge. She wanted to get a feel for the mood of the place in the wake of Drew Hawke’s conviction. It would take Ully at least ten minutes to fill up, so she had time. Term had started today and, despite the hour, there were plenty of students milling around in small groups. They eyed her truck suspiciously as she drove slowly by. Outside one of the large frat houses she locked gazes with Jason Brady, wide receiver for the Blackcombe Ravens. Wearing track pants and a Raven’s long-sleeved tee, he stood on the curb next to his jeep with his hands on his hips. He spat on the ground and mouthed the word “cunt” as she drove past.

Good times.

She carried on, past the gym complex, the faculty of science. Another half mile, and she cruised up and down the streets either side of Cassie Bressinger’s house. No sign of anyone lurking. She stopped the truck a few houses down from the small clapboard building. Many of the houses in this neighborhood were rented to students. A few belonged to low income families—research assistants, sessional instructors. Cassie Bressinger’s neighbor had a small plastic swing-set on a postage stamp-sized front lawn.

Last time Erin had visited this address, she’d arrested Cassie’s boyfriend. No wonder the girl was about as friendly as an injured boar. There was a light on deep inside the belly of the house but nothing outside or downstairs. She tried Ully on his cell but couldn’t raise him. There were several reception dead zones, and the gas station was in one of them. She didn’t have a police radio in her truck tonight.

She sat for a moment with the engine running, then felt ridiculous. She’d spent five years as an NYPD beat cop, and one year as an NYPD detective. She wasn’t some rookie who needed her hand held. Unlike most TV shows depicted, detectives didn’t normally work in pairs. Especially not in small rural departments. They worked alone, and they got the job done without a trusty sidekick.

Cassie and her friends were probably sitting in the dark watching her and laughing their asses off, planning to repeat the routine,
ad infinitum
. Erin turned off the engine and killed the lights. She grabbed her flashlight from under the seat and got out of the truck.