Shattered Dreams (3 page)

“That’s the problem. I woke up covered in blood, and I don’t remember much.”

“Okay, then we’ll start with what you do remember.”

Jason took notes as he listened, stopping her from time to time to ask clarifying questions. Once he had all the specifics, they agreed she’d pick him up at the marina.

While writing down her directions, he said, “I’m driving from Boca, so it’ll take me a couple of hours.”

She murmured her thanks, and he added, “Outside of briefly explaining to the authorities what happened, don’t answer any questions without me being present. Understand?”

A good offense was a criminal attorney’s first rule of thumb for providing a good defense, if needed. Until he scoped out the situation as promised, she was vulnerable to law enforcement and their intimidation tactics.

“Yes. I understand.”

“I’ll call you when I get close to the marina.”

After he hung up, he rose from the four-poster bed and wove his way around stacks of backer board and boxes of tiles for his ongoing house renovation while slipping out of his boxers. He yanked off his T-shirt and rifled through the bureau for fresh underwear, and grabbed Dockers and a sports shirt from the spacious walk-in closet that used to be a small bedroom.

Contemplating Claire Carter’s story, he headed for the bathroom and turned on the shower before he stepped under the hot water. As warmth seeped into his bones, his mind spun.

What was it about her eerie voice that drew him? He discarded the thought, refusing to believe something so ludicrous. The circumstances surrounding the woman’s situation intrigued him, not the other, and were definitely worth a trip. If anything, he figured he wouldn’t be bored.

Hell, Jason thought while soaping up, he could handle the win-win scenario. He’d clear his debt with the annoying divorce attorney and be entertained in the process.

Chapter 2

Claire frowned as Deputy Snyder of the Monroe County Sheriff’s Office and his entourage of latex-glove-wearing men departed by boat, leaving abject silence in their wake. Obviously, they thought she’d done something to Carl.

For over two hours, the officers had treated her as if she were public enemy number one as they swarmed the boat to take pictures, fingerprints, and samples. After bagging her blouse and champagne flutes, they had scrutinized the clear waters within viewing distance of the sloop—in search of a body, she assumed. Other Coast Guard boats were still out searching but with no luck so far.

Claire was sure if they could have arrested her, they would have. Of course, being lawyered-up, as Snyder had called it, didn’t sit well with any of Monroe County’s finest, but it seemed to get them off her back for the moment. They’d agreed to meet at the sheriff’s office once Crystal’s lawyer friend made it to Key Largo from Boca Raton.

Sweat trickled off Claire’s brow as she sat under the Bimini top’s shade, thankful her sister had sent someone, but wishing the guy would hurry. Relief overwhelmed her when her cell phone chimed. She lunged for it.

“Mrs. Carter?”

She smiled wanly at the caller’s formality, recognizing the lawyer’s voice. “Please call me Claire.”

“Okay, Claire,” he said. “I’m a few miles from the marina. Can you meet me?”

“Of course. I appreciate your coming so quickly. The authorities just left. But they aren’t doing enough to find him.” No, they were too busy trying to prove she was guilty of killing him.

“Investigations take time.”

“I see.” Although she didn’t see, she tried to shrug it off but couldn’t. “What if someone kidnapped him?”

“Is there evidence of a struggle?”

Her glance swept the deck. “No.” There was no sign of anything unusual but dried blood. The sinking anxiety in the pit of her stomach dug in deeper.

“Don’t worry. I’ll deal with the authorities, if need be.”

“Okay.” She sighed. “I’m ten minutes away from the marina, give or take a few. I’ll see you then.” She disconnected the call and pocketed the phone while heading for the inflatable tied on at the stern.

It took two yanks on the rip cord to start the outboard motor. Claire put it into gear and steered toward the marina. In a matter of seconds, the inflatable skimmed across the water at ten to fifteen knots.

Nearing the wooden structure, Claire spied a raven-haired man who could only be the attorney, Jason Roberts. He sat on the dock with his attention on the water. When he noticed her approach, he jumped up, appearing much taller and more imposing than a moment ago.

He waited till she got close enough, and caught the line she threw. She ignored his silent appraisal.

“You look just like Crystal,” he said seconds later, after running the line around the cleat. He pulled the small inflatable even with the dock, and handed the line back to her to hold the small craft steady.

“I’m not sure whether to be offended or thrilled by your remark, Mr. Roberts.” She regarded him warily, thankful for the bit of protection her sunglasses provided.

“Jason.” He offered her a ready smile. At her questioning glance, he said, “Since you asked me to call you Claire, it’s only fair you call me Jason.” She nodded, and he added, “And as for my remark . . .” He shrugged. “Just an observation. I don’t know why it surprised me. She mentioned something about you two being twins.”

“Yes. Identical,” Claire said softly, peering into his sunglass-covered gaze and holding it unflinchingly. “Imagine that.”

Her biggest worry was finding Carl. Why should it matter what an obvious close friend of her sister’s thought, and why did she find it disturbing? After all, she and Crystal were mirror images. She’d dealt with reactions like his for as long as she could remember.

Claire took Jason’s outstretched hand, one that deceptively appeared to be a greeting because he didn’t release hers. Instead, he used the hold to steady himself and climbed on board.

She ignored the hemmed-in sensation his presence elicited, revved the motor, and jammed it into gear while pulling the line off the dock and tossing it aside. In minutes, she maneuvered the small craft toward the open sea.

When she caught sight of the sailboat, Claire heaved a relieved sigh. His silent scrutiny was more unsettling, unnerving in an uncomfortable way. Though Carl could make her feel sexy with just a look, this man’s gaze seemed to go deeper and see more.

When they neared the boat, she cut the motor and grabbed the stern. The instant he stepped aboard, she could finally inhale naturally.

He reached for the lines. Claire noticed how he secured them in that precise way, completely at ease around boats. So different from Carl, who hated sailing and balked at doing even the simplest tasks properly.

Once the lines were tied, she stood, and her gaze fell on his outstretched hand. Reluctantly, she took hold and focused on climbing onto the boat, forcing herself to breathe despite the contact. The moment he released her hand, she turned away, hoping he couldn’t tell how his touch affected her. She needn’t have worried.

His interest was absorbed elsewhere. He took his sunglasses off and stuck them in his pocket. An intense indigo gaze swept the deck before he headed below.

She followed. “I got the impression the police think I’m somehow responsible.” In the darker space, she took off her unneeded sunglasses. “They left without saying much.”

“That’s not unusual.” He smiled. “They’re naturally suspicious, especially of spouses.”

She observed his careful examination of the cabin. “What do you think?”

“There’s a definite heavy trail and pooling, but no splattering. No footprints.” A moment later, his steadfast gaze landed on her, seeking verification. “And you said you had blood matted in your hair and on your clothes?”

She nodded.

“Hmm. Interesting.”

“What’s interesting?” When he didn’t answer, simply crouched and studied the floor more closely, her curiosity grew. “Well?” she finally asked, unable to hold the question inside.

“The blood spots are awfully consistent, and then they just stop. Too much blood to be a nosebleed. They almost appear to be planted.”

“Planted?” Her eyes narrowed. She’d overheard the officers mention the same thing.

He glanced back at her. “When someone’s bleeding from a serious wound, they tend to panic. Blood splatters everywhere, and the pattern is haphazard. It doesn’t just end, and it’s usually smeared. I’ve seen enough crime-scene photos. Of course, maybe he didn’t panic and staunched the flow with a towel using pressure.” His brows lifted a curious inch. “Find any blood-saturated towels lying around?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I didn’t stab him.”

Why had she blurted that?
her desperation made her wonder. Who was she trying to convince more, the attorney or herself?

“I never said you did,” he replied offhandedly, his interest returning to the teak flooring.

“But you were thinking it, weren’t you?” And why she asked that stupid question, she had no clue, but somehow a lot rode on his answer.

Jason stopped his perusal and caught her gaze. His intelligent blue eyes were unreadable, but she could tell by their intensity that his mind was spinning.

“I won’t lie and say I don’t have doubts.” He snorted and shook his head. “I mean, you’re Crystal’s twin.”

She smiled. “How well do you know Crystal?”

“Well enough,” he said with a grunt. “But now, I’m not so sure about anything.” His attention roamed the full length of the salon. “Tell me about your marriage.” There was no mistaking the gentle command.

“My marriage?” She groaned, wishing her head would stop pounding. Of course he’d ask. “Do I have to tell you?”

He nodded. “If I’m representing you, I need to know everything, no matter how trivial. My job’s defending, not judging.”

“It’s a usual marriage with the usual problems,” she said evasively, not wanting to get too personal with a lawyer Crystal had sent, especially when it involved Carl. No way she could trust him completely. “Besides, I don’t need defending as much as I need someone to take Carl’s disappearance seriously.”

“What kind of problems?” he asked, ignoring her comment.

She sighed and rubbed her temples, easing the steady pain. “Our divorce would have been final a few months ago.” Her sister knew, so she felt safe enough revealing that much. “But before I signed the final papers, he begged me for another chance, even agreed to counseling.” She’d owed Carl that much if he was willing. “Of course, Crystal had called me a fool for thinking that way.”

“Would your husband have any reason to skip?”

“Skip?”

“Yeah.”

“Why would he skip?” she asked through clenched teeth. Her hand curled into a fist until her nails dug in to the point of pain. “He begged for another chance. We were working through our problems. Things were great between us.” Or at least, she thought they were. She inhaled deeply and released her fingers, forcing herself to relax. “In fact, this weekend was a celebration.” She’d desperately hoped to prove Crystal wrong about Carl.

Without commenting, he started for the deck.

“Did you hear me?” she yelled at his back, following him up the narrow stairs. “He didn’t
skip
.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little odd you can’t remember anything? In my opinion, given your account, you didn’t drink enough to warrant memory loss.”

His reply only raised more questions she’d rather not answer, much less think about.

“That’s because I’ve always been a lightweight with alcohol, and not used to drinking.”

“Maybe. But it doesn’t quite jibe with your story. I’m looking for another scenario.”

“No.” The sharp word cracked through the air like a snapped whip. Claire’s mouth hardened into a thin line, and she shook her head. “There is no other scenario.”

She couldn’t—no, she
wouldn’t
believe it. That would mean her husband had lied again, and she couldn’t accept that, not after the complete turnaround he’d made in the last two months.

“You’re so sure?”

“Carl and I may have our problems, but no way he’s responsible for this.”

“If you didn’t stab him, where is he?”

“I don’t know,” she ground out one syllable at a time. “That’s for the police to figure out. Of course, while we sit here waiting for them to stop suspecting me and get around to actually investigating, he could be dying.”

“How? Did he stab himself? And if he did, where could he go?” Jason held out his hand in a sweeping motion toward the sea. “We’re surrounded by water, a few miles from shore.”

“Maybe someone kidnapped him.” The excuse sounded lame as it left her lips, but she was too annoyed to think clearly.

“I don’t buy it, and the police don’t either. The fact that they didn’t take you in for questioning speaks volumes. This all looks contrived. There’s no sign of a struggle or of an intruder.”

A gnawing pain sprouted and grew from the seeds of doubt that his words and the deputy’s earlier comments had planted. Carl and his past transgressions, along with Crystal’s mocking, flashed inside her brain. In those few seconds, pain blossomed into heartache. He couldn’t do this. Not after yesterday. The day had been too perfect, had made her think things could work out, that she hadn’t been so totally wrong in her choice of a husband after all.

“Something’s happened to him,” she whispered fervently, unwilling to believe anything different. If Carl did this, it would make her the biggest fool on the planet to believe in his lies one more time. “I just know it.”

All of a sudden, it was too much. Tears she thought had been cried out sprang free, running down the sides of her face. She hurriedly brushed them away before he saw them.

God help her, she couldn’t fall apart in front of the attorney whose sharp cobalt eyes appeared to miss nothing. Her mistake in trusting Carl again was private, certainly not information she wanted carried back to her twin. Crystal would have a really good laugh. Claire could already hear her
I told you so
.

Jason plowed a hand through his hair in what could only be a frustrated gesture and stared at the bow. His gaze stayed there for several minutes while Claire composed herself.