Reasonable Doubt (7 page)

“J
ustin, there’s just no way anyone was out here.” Crouched outside the window, Keri shook her head and pointed to the frozen earth. “The ground is covered with ice and snow. Even a bird or small animal would leave some sort of print.” She stood up and faced him. “Look. No tracks. If there was anyone out here, he wasn’t walking.”

“He was dreaming?”

She nodded. “Almost certainly. And it’s no wonder. He still hasn’t adjusted to his mom’s death.”

There wasn’t even a hint of condemnation in her assessment of the situation, so Justin didn’t bother to insist upon his innocence. Instead, he studied her face, searched her eyes. He had to know if she was only trying to reassure him, or if she truly believed they were in no danger. “Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely. Besides, how would Josh know what his mother’s killer looks like?”

In the confusion, Justin hadn’t considered that.
“Good point.” He nodded. “Now I just have to figure out how to convince him it was just a dream.”

“You can handle it.” Keri patted his arm as she walked past him and headed for the wood pile next to the back door.

Justin fell into step beside her. “That’s it? No advice?”

A shrug lifted her shoulders. She grabbed an armload of logs from the pile. “Open the door, will you?” she grunted under the weight of the logs.

“Good grief, Keri, give me the wood.” Without waiting for her permission, he relieved her of the load. “Are you going to answer my question?”

“I’ve been trying to think of something, but I’m just not qualified to offer you any advice on that one. I’m not a counselor or a parent.” She stopped and regarded him, earnest concern clouding her beautiful green eyes. “You’re a good father. Anyone can see that. Just do what comes naturally and be as honest as you can without belittling his fear.”

She hesitated as though she wanted to say something else, then thought better of it and turned to open the door. “Wait. What else did you want to say?” A frown creased her brow as she struggled to decide whether or not to go ahead.

“Come on,” Justin prodded. “Spill it.” “All right, but you might not like what I have to say.” The corners of his lips turned up. “I often don’t.” Her face hardened. “If you’re not going to take me seriously, there’s no point.”

All amusement fled, and Justin nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Josh is obviously dealing with some deep hurt
about his mother’s death. We just witnessed a vivid nightmare. But are you sure he didn’t see something the night his mother was murdered?”

Justin gave a vehement shake of his head. “The police questioned the boys. They were both asleep upstairs at the time—thank God.”

“It must be something else then. Do they know the police suspect you?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“What happens when they find out? Especially if you go to prison?”

Keri’s words slammed into Justin like a line drive to the gut. He couldn’t bear the thought of what the boys would think of him. Would they believe he was capable of doing such a thing? Would they feel betrayed?

He collected a deep breath and returned Keri’s gaze. “I know. I haven’t thought of much else. Josh used to be even more outgoing and fun-loving than Billy, if you can imagine that.” He shook his head. “It’s as if when Amelia died, part of him died, too. And I don’t understand it because they weren’t that close.”

“They weren’t that close?” Keri’s brow creased. “What child isn’t close to his mother?”

Justin gave a short laugh. “The child who has the kind of mother my sons had. Let’s just say she wasn’t the maternal sort.”

He knew he’d said too much when her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “You didn’t love her?”

The question rankled him. Here he was trying to share his worries about his sons and she had to revert to cop-dom on him. “Don’t start interrogating me, Keri. I know what it looks like, but to tell you the truth, no,
I didn’t love her as a wife. We slept in separate rooms after the twins were born.”

Compassion darted to her eyes, then fled as quickly as it had come. Her face became a stone mask, dashing Justin’s hopes. “Look, Justin. I don’t care what kind of relationship you had with your wife. It’s a shame your boys didn’t have the benefit of strong mother-love, but that doesn’t change the facts. I don’t want to know the intimate—or lack thereof—details of your life with another woman.”

Her chin trembled. And that small involuntary action shot into Justin’s heart and pierced his conscience. She was fighting her emotions enough without him adding to it. Part of him wanted to explore her vulnerability. To toss the wood aside and gather her close. To see if she would pull away this time or allow his kiss. But he couldn’t do that to her. Not while she clearly wrestled with whether she should believe him or not. He smiled. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t involve you in this any more than you already are.”

She reached for the doorknob, then stopped once more. “Justin,” she said without turning around to face him. “I hope they find out that you are innocent. I don’t want to believe you capable of this crime.”

He stared after her as she disappeared through the door, wishing she could just believe in him without the proof. But he supposed that was too much to ask. Despair gnawed his gut. He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to revive their relationship. He’d murdered their friendship with fifteen years of no contact.

He clenched his fist, pressing it tightly against his thigh to keep from putting a hole in the wall. He’d been
through the house at least ten times in the past four hours, and there was nothing…Nothing! He’d scanned through every videotape in the video library———to no avail.

Where? Where could it be? Amelia had shown him the copy. But he’d taken that when he’d left her on the floor that night. She could have been lying about the existence of another tape, but he was sure she was on the level. Another copy of the tape existed, and he had to find it.

Keri turned another page, barely remembering what she’d just read. The entire afternoon had been filled with pages and pages of unintelligible words. With a frustrated huff, she tossed the book aside, rolled onto her stomach and buried her face in a fluffy pillow.

She hated feeling so conflicted. One second she was sure Justin was guilty—or reasonably sure—and then he’d do something like pray with his son, or smile so earnestly at her that she couldn’t help but believe everything he told her.

The one thing she had known for sure over the last few years, the one thing, was that working for justice made her feel good about herself. It made her feel confident. Now in one day, Justin had ridden into town, and suddenly she was having second thoughts about doing her duty. Ten years of hard work down the tubes. The chance for the only decent cop position in Briarwood…down the tubes. All her brave words about being married to her job and not interested in marriage and children…down the tubes. She shuddered. Where had that one come from?

Justin had almost kissed her twice now. And the second time she’d practically begged for it. If Josh
hadn’t screamed bloody murder at the right moment, she’d be lost right now. Unable to take Justin into the jail. If he’d asked her, she’d have given in to her heart and run away like a fool. She’d be the worst kind of citizen: a corrupt cop, guilty of aiding and abetting a suspect—a fugitive from justice. Well, no. Not quite that. He wasn’t under arrest yet. But if Raven’s contact at the KCPD was correct, it could happen any second. Would she be able to push her feelings aside and still take him away from those boys?

In all likelihood, Justin was counting on just that thing. Why else would he be trying to kiss her so soon after becoming reacquainted? He’d obviously moved on without looking back when he left Briarwood. Probably had had scads of girlfriends over the years. Why would he be attracted to her? Last time she’d looked, she was no prize. Not a troll by any means, but nothing for someone like Justin to fall over himself about.

She pulled herself up from her bed and stood in front of the full-length mirror on the inside of the door. Red curls exploded from her head, giving her a wild appearance—not like the women in her romance novels, whose messy, curly locks always made the hero long to plunge his fingers through the mass.

Ha! Justin wouldn’t be able to get his fingers through her hair without getting them stuck in her tangled, coarse mop. With a sigh, she grabbed her brush and a fat brown scrunchie from her dresser. Tugging and wincing, she brushed out the tangles and pulled back the riotous mass. She should chop it off, she thought with a sniff, as curls around her temples
popped out of the band. It would make a lot more sense in her line of work. Only Dad’s insistence that she was the “spitting image of her mother,” kept her from it. Mom’s hair was one of Dad’s fondest memories. And if Keri admitted it, she liked the idea of resembling her mother so strongly. It comforted her to look in the mirror, see the resemblance and remember.

A knock on the door startled her. She jumped and pressed her hand to her racing heart. “What?” she barked.

“Well, aren’t you a ball of sunshine?” Dad’s voice drifted through closed door. “You have a phone call.”

Keri twisted the doorknob and gave it a firm yank, coming face to face with Dad. “Who is it?” she whispered, taking the cell phone and covering the mouthpiece. “It’s not the chief, is it? He told me not to try to go to town.”

“It’s Denni.”

Hesitating, Keri frowned. What would her sister be calling out here for? Especially on a Tuesday afternoon? “If she called to cancel for Thursday, I’ll kill her!”

Dad returned her frown. “Just talk to her. She don’t have all day.” He turned and headed back down the hall.

“Denni?” Keri closed the door and stretched back out on the bed, crossing her legs out in front of her.

“Hi!”

“You’re not backing out on Thanksgiving are you? Dad really wants this.”

“Not unless the weather stays bad. The main roads should be clear, though.”

“So you’re just calling to talk?”

“Actually, I called to ask if I can bring one of the girls. Everyone else has plans for Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, sure. The more the merrier, you know that.”

Denni had worked for years as a social worker. A few years ago, she’d grown disillusioned at seeing how many children grew up to become either welfare recipients or inmates in state prisons. She had opened a home for eighteen-year-old women just out of foster care. Finding work with her help, or filling out financial-aid packets for college was a prerequisite for living in her grand Victorian. Keri admired her more than anyone she knew.

“So, Dad tells me you have company up there in the Big Woods.” She hedged a bit, obviously curious, but probably not wanting to press. As a social worker, Denni understood privacy, unlike their sister Raven, whose job as a reporter kept Keri on the defensive most of the time.

“Did Dad tell you who the company is?”

“Yeah…”

Releasing a heavy sigh, Keri adjusted her weight to her side and rested her head on her free hand.

“So what does he look like after all these years?”

A grin lifted Keri’s lips. Always the romantic, of course Denni would want the essential information.

“Tom Cruise meets Brendan Fraser. Only better.”

“Oh, wow.”

“Yeah.”

“So which one’s mouth is his like?”

Warmth crept up Keri’s neck, and she knew her face was red. “I guess it’s more like Brendan’s.”

“Has he kissed you yet?”

“Denni! He’s a suspect in a murder case!”

“Oh, come on, I find it hard to believe Justin is capable of murder. Besides, suspects can’t kiss?”

Keri rolled her eyes and fought the urge not to di
vulge the information about the couple of close calls. Besides, the more she thought about those moments, the more humiliated she became and the more convinced that Justin was playing her. Cons tried it all the time with female corrections officers and cops. A good-looking prisoner could play on the vanity or poor self-image of a vulnerable officer. It had happened time and again. But she wouldn’t let Justin do that to her. No way! She was not vulnerable to him.

“I can’t get romantically involved with him.”

“So that still doesn’t answer my question. Come on…kiss or no kiss?”

“No! The guy is most likely going to the pen for a really long time, if not forever. I don’t exactly think we should be discussing him like a potential prom date.”

Keri could sense Denni sober. “You’re right. Dad said he’s got a couple of kids?”

Thankful for the change of subject, Keri stated, “Yeah, Billy’s a real sweetie. He lights up the house.” Her mind went back to the incident over the board game in the kitchen. “Josh is…let’s just say he’s been through a lot.”

“Children deal with trauma differently.”

“I guess. I don’t know. It just seems like there’s more to it. Like he’s been touched in a way that Billy hasn’t. I think he’s dealing with a trauma Billy didn’t go through.”

“Like what?”

“I wish I knew.”

“Does Justin have the boys in counseling? Or did he, before he took off?”

Ashamed, she hated to admit the truth. “I don’t know. I never asked him. Never even occurred to me.”

“Well, it’s my job to ask that stuff. Don’t worry
about it. There’s nothing to be done right now, anyway. There may be counseling available for them once they enter the foster-care system. If it comes to that.”

Keri tried to imagine Billy and Josh living happily in a foster home, but she had trouble conjuring up a convincing image. A sudden thought occurred to her and she sat straight up with a gasp. “Hey, they wouldn’t split them up, would they?”

“They’d try not to. But you never know what homes are available.”

“I hate this.” She rested her forehead in the palm of her free hand. “I hate that those boys would have to be without their dad. Justin’s a great dad. Even if they get to stick together, they’ll be miserable without him.”

“So you don’t think he did it?”

“Did what?”

“Killed his wife?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I hope not. I just said he’s a good dad.”