Ties That Bind (30 page)

“Well, then I guess you better come in.”

Amy walked back to her car—obviously a generic rental vehicle that only vaguely resembled Paul’s—and opened up the back door, pulling out a small overnight suitcase. She clearly didn’t intend staying long.

Sam moved on ahead to her front door and went to put her key into it, only to find it ajar. Her heart raced—she never left her home unlocked—and her instincts immediately kicked in. She pulled the pink .38 Gage had given her out of her purse and let the bag fall to the ground. She also put her right arm back, palm out, a stop sign, warning her sister not to come forward.

Sam felt a presence behind her and turned quickly, to see Amy had her own .38 weapon drawn. Amy shook her head at Sam’s gasp of surprise.
Call for backup,
she mouthed.

Sam grabbed her purse off the ground, stepped back outside the door, and pulled out her cell phone. She made a quick and quiet call to Dispatch, then tucked the phone in her pocket as she and Amy took protective stances on either side of the door.

Then Sam pushed through, Amy behind her.

Sam’s town house had been completely ransacked.

Written on the living room wall in dripping red was one word:
VENGEANCE.

*   *   *

“Guess you really pissed someone off,” Amy said drolly as they watched the scurrying movements of the crime scene techs and officers. “Either that or you wanted to offer me one hell of a welcome home.”

“Well, if I’d had any idea you were coming…”

Gage was shadowing them. He had shown up only seconds after the Smithland’s deputies and Kanesville uniforms. He put his hand on Sam’s arm.

“Are you really okay?” he asked her.

“Yeah, feeling a little violated, and not looking forward to painting, but other than that…”

He held her gaze for a minute and then seemed to accept her answer. He turned to survey the damage.

Chief Roberson stood by the vandalized wall, discussing the scene with two of the sheriff’s deputies, including Lind Harris.

Lind wandered away from the chief, toward her and Gage. “Trouble just seems to follow you, doesn’t it, Sam? About the only reason you always get yourself out of it is because you’re a girl cop. Is that why you do it? Is this guy your newest victim?”

“You’re a jackass,” Gage said, his chin quivering as he pushed the words out between tight lips.

“Whoa, dude, I don’t even know you, but if you are linked up with her I gotta warn you to look out. She’s trouble. All of those girls are. Even the one who killed herself.”

Sam was surprised to feel the motion of her arm, propelling her fist toward Lind’s weak jaw. Even more surprised when pain burst into her fingers and up her arm as her fist connected with his face. There was a cracking noise as the blow whipped his head to the side and he stumbled back.

“You bitch!” he yelled, grabbing his face. The other deputy and Chief Roberson hurried in their direction while medical personnel stood and stared, not quite sure what to make of the scene. Amy tried to step forward, but D-Ray held her back.

“You incompetent asshole,” Sam retorted, holding her sore hand but almost reveling in the feeling of its ache. “This is a crime scene. You know, those things you always fuck up because you have no idea what you’re doing? You’re a coward, Harris. Poking sticks at a grieving family. I remember you taunting me when we were in school.”

She stopped, suddenly remembering that Paul had been Lind Harris’s friend. Best friend, at least in junior high. Lind had become one of the “cling-ons” when they moved to high school. But she remembered him there in the background, with his ugly sneer and his trying to constantly steer Paul away from her and toward something else. Anything else.

Was Lind responsible for the dead rodents?

“I know why I hate you, Harris. But why do you hate me?”

He gave her a nasty look as he continued to hold his jaw. “Because you’re trash. Montgomery trash. Always have been. Just like your sister Callie used to be. She was a tease, you know. Always leading guys on, but never—” He stopped, looked around, and clamped his mouth shut.

Gage said through still-frozen lips, “Sounds personal, Harris. I think you need to get yourself out of here, now. Before I help you out. Headfirst.” His fists were tight at his sides.

“What the hell?” Chief Roberson said to Sam. “You guys grew up together and you act like mortal enemies. You’re cops. Kids in this town are dying. Harris, get out of here. I’ll be calling your sergeant.”

“And Montgomery…” She’d swiftly gone from “Sam” to “Montgomery,” she noted as the chief turned to her. To her surprise, she saw compassion in his eyes, not the anger she expected. He waited until Harris was gone, fuming out the door, before he spoke.

“Sam, I don’t like that kid. Never have. Sounds like he’s been holding a grudge against you for a long time. I’ll take care of this with his boss, but you’ll probably get a suspension over the assault. Not much I can do about that.” He paused, looked around, and blew out a heavy breath. “Now, all I have to say is you need to take care of yourself. Don’t come back to work for a week. Then we’ll talk.”

The chief shook his head and walked away.

*   *   *

Inside, D-Ray and the chief spoke in low voices, discussing, she knew, the fact that she would now be removed from the case. She figured D-Ray would become the point man. It made sense, as she wouldn’t be working the case any longer.

Sam and Amy sat on the back patio, drinking Diet Cokes.

Gage had left, taking evidence with him to the SLCPD crime lab, which had some newer equipment than Smithland County.

He’d taken a moment to squeeze Sam’s arm, even though he knew others were watching. He had also leaned in quietly and asked her if she needed medical attention for her hand. She’d shaken her head no.

Now she nursed her sore knuckles, holding the cold can of Coke across them.

“Got anything stronger?” Amy asked as she sipped at her drink like a southern belle.

Sam studied her sister’s face: she was still beautiful. Of all the Montgomery girls she looked the most like their mother. Sam had inherited her father’s lean, angular body, face, and lines, but Amy was soft where women were supposed to be, curvy in all the right spots, and the lines in her face gave her character instead of making her look haggard and old, like Susanna. Amy’s eyes were large and the same steel blue Ruthie’s eyes had been, and her hair had the same consistency. Her lips were full and her nose small, and looking at her Sam got all warm inside. It was like seeing a replica of her mother, back when the world had been different.

Candy Land. Hot chocolate. Movie night.

But both Amy and her mother had left, in very different ways.

“What makes you think I drink? We were raised Mormon,” Sam said, not betraying her inner thoughts.

“Gee, I thought we were Amish.”

“Do Amish people drink?”

“Sam, I have no idea. But I know you left it all behind, too. I can see it in your face, and hear it in your voice.”

“Dad told you.”

“I haven’t spoken with our father since the day I walked away from this hellhole.”

“Then how did you know I was a cop?”

“I’ve kept track of you for years.”

“If you tell me you have your ear to the ground, I might have to shoot you. I have a gun, you know,” Sam said, thinking of Gage.

Amy cocked her head and gave Sam a quizzical look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Never mind. Kept track of me how?”

“I don’t think you’d understand.”

“Try me.”

“I have a friend who keeps me updated, and this situation was getting too dangerous. I had to put aside my own fears and come.”

“A friend?”

“A mutual friend.”

“You know, you’re starting to really piss me off, Amy. You disappear from our lives, we never hear from you, and then you come back and drop all these vague and mysterious things on me like ‘I’ve kept track of you.’ Like you even cared.”

“She did care,” D-Ray said quietly, and Sam jumped. She hadn’t heard him come up behind her.

Sam turned to look at him. She’d known it was D-Ray. He and Amy had gone to school together. Sam had grown up knowing him as her older sister’s friend. He’d always been there in Kanesville. He’d spent summers running through the backyards and wooded areas of Kanesville just like Sam did, with Amy and Callie and Paul …

“You’ve been spying on me?” Sam asked D-Ray, knowing her words were harsh, her tone angry and accusing, but unable—or unwilling—to control it.

“Oh yes, I asked to be assigned as your partner so I could ferret out information and send it to your sister,” he said, sarcasm dripping off his tongue. “I haven’t been spying on you. When Amy called and asked how you were, I told her.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew where Amy was? What the hell is going on here?”

Sam was angry and confused, unable to comprehend why her sister would disappear from her life and yet bother to keep track of her. And why her partner, D-Ray, wouldn’t mention that he actually spoke to her sister.

“I couldn’t come back, and I couldn’t make sure you were okay, so I did the next best thing.”

“Why couldn’t you come back? I don’t get this.”

“Sam, let it be,” D-Ray said, his eyes gentle and knowing. That made her even angrier. He knew something. Something she herself did not know.

Chief Roberson blundered out onto the patio right at that moment and collapsed into one of her patio chairs, the metal frame bouncing from his girth.

“Well, Montgomery. D-Ray is going to take over as lead detective, working with Flint, and Patterson will back them up.”

Patterson, the one who spent most of his time as the D.A.R.E. cop, going around to schools and preaching the virtues of just saying no to drugs and alcohol.

He was also “a big weenie,” according to D-Ray.

“Look, Chief, I know you think you have to take me off, but for all you know this could have nothing to do with the other thing at all. I’ve been questioning these kids, and maybe it pissed some of them off. Maybe it’s someone I arrested in SLC.”

“Come on, Sam,” Roberson said, using her first name. Never a good sign. “I don’t have a choice. I should have pulled you off when I read the report about the rat. Hell, you should have told me about it. You know that. I’m sorry.”

He’d known. The whole time he’d known. This was a difficult man to outguess.

The chief hefted himself out of the chair and said, “Didn’t help that you decided to assault a fellow officer, no matter how bad he was asking for it. Not sure how that one will turn out. And I’m afraid you’re going to have to paint that wall. Nothing more we can do here.”

He avoided looking at her, and Sam felt anger build in her. It was the “good old boy” system again. Let the guys do the work, because the woman couldn’t handle it. She started to stand and follow the chief but felt Amy’s hand on her shoulder. “It won’t do any good, Sam. He has to do this. He
should
have done it the minute they found Whitney.”

Sam shrugged her sister’s hand off her shoulder and turned away, fighting off the salty ache of tears at the bases of her eyes. She would not give in to this.

“It’s not over,” Sam said, not looking back at her sister.

“No, it’s not over. But if you don’t stop now, you might die, too. I think this has more to do with us, with our history, than you realize. Than anyone realizes. We’re both fighting the same demons, Sammy. Every time I arrest someone, I get a high. Score one for the good guys.

“We both live life on the edge. And all because Callie died when we were little. I needed to come back and face those demons—with you.”

Sam caught D-Ray’s gaze. She didn’t know how to feel. He’d been feeding Amy information when Sam felt like she should have just returned and found out for herself.

“I don’t owe you an apology,” D-Ray said, in sync enough with Sam’s thoughts that he knew what she would say. “She’s my friend. She’s your sister. When she called and asked me how you were, I told her. That’s all.”

“Stupid small-town cops,” Sam muttered. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“You never asked.”

“And how the hell was I supposed to know my long-missing sister was checking up on me through my partner, her old school friend? I didn’t even know you guys stayed in touch. And how did she even know we were partners? What about when I was in Salt Lake? What the hell?”

Sam felt the questions spinning in her head like orbs that were just out of reach. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back, fighting off the beginnings of a headache that threatened to turn into a roaring tormentor.

“He didn’t tell you because I asked him not to,” Amy said softly.

“Why?”

“Because then you would want to know where I was, and why I left, and I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t answer and I couldn’t come back.”

“Then why the hell are you here now?”

“I told you. Something told me you were in trouble. Deep trouble. I finally realized I had to come back and face the real demons—not the ones I see every day on the job. And I had to reconnect with you.” She paused. “I want to show you something.” She stood up and motioned Sam to follow her inside. In the living room she walked over to the purse she had put on Sam’s coffee table a few hours before—after they had discovered the vandalism but realized no one was in the house waiting to cause any more, possibly lethal, damage.

She pulled out a thin, wildly patterned flat wallet. It was a snakeskin print—very popular—though the colors didn’t resemble those of any snake Sam had ever seen.

Amy opened the wallet and took out a thin, ragged picture. She handed it to Sam. Sam looked, memories flooding her as she stared at the child she used to be, raggedy, motherless, poorly dressed. In the image she stood next to Amy, who had one hand on Sam’s shoulder. They both frowned, no childhood joy in their faces, no excitement.

“I don’t remember this picture.”

“I know you don’t. You were in a shell, trying to recover from the loss of your sister and, even worse, the loss of our mother. Dad took the picture. He posed us there, in front of the tree. Reminding us that this is what happened to bad girls. To girls who didn’t do what they were taught.”