Cold Case in Cherokee Crossing (5 page)

Chapter Six

Jaxon wasn’t sure if he made Avery nervous or if it was just the situation. He probably shouldn’t have been so harsh. But he had to be honest.

Besides, he was fighting his own attraction toward her. Trying not to let her sweet but tortured look tear at his heart and make him do something he’d regret.

Like start to care for her.

Caring was way too dangerous for a man who lived his life working case to case. Besides, the only thing he knew about families was that they were messed up. Couples stood and made promises and vows that they didn’t keep. Men strayed. Women strayed. Both got bored with each other.

The kids suffered in the end.

He didn’t intend to travel down that path.

“Sergeant Ward?”

Then again, if he wanted her to be more comfortable, maybe they shouldn’t be so formal. “Why don’t you call me Jaxon, Avery?”

She gave him a wary look. “All right, Jaxon. Does Joleen know we’re coming?”

“No. I didn’t want to give her a chance to decline talking to me.”

“She probably would, you know.”

“Yeah, I do.” He threaded his fingers through his hair as he made the turn onto the road leading to Joleen’s. Scrub brush, dry parched land and ranch land stretched out for miles, but the development had been built close to town for the residents’ convenience.

He turned into the complex, scrutinizing the beat-up trucks and weathered cars scattered in the parking lot. A group of construction workers had gathered at one end by two trucks parked close together. Other families were grilling burgers while the children played tag.

“Joleen lives here?” Avery asked, surprise in her voice.

He nodded. “Apparently she lost her house after her husband’s murder.”

“I...didn’t know.”

Jaxon glanced at her with a frown. “Don’t feel bad for her. Apparently she got some DUIs and had a drug arrest. Not to mention the fact that she didn’t take care of you and your brother as she should have.” And that was putting it mildly.

Avery nodded, her long hair spilling around her shoulders as she turned to look out the window.

“You want to tell me about her before we go in?”

She shrugged. “She was just one in a long line. But just like always, I hoped this one would be different.” A bitter laugh escaped her. “But it was worse.”

“Did she hurt you?”

Avery’s sigh filled the silence. “She didn’t hit us,” she said softly. “She just...sat and drank and watched.”

“Just as bad,” Jaxon said.

Avery sucked in a sharp breath and reached for the door handle. “I’m not that scared little girl anymore,” she said, her voice filled with determination. “In fact, this visit is long overdue.”

* * *

A
VERY
WRESTLED
WITH
her nerves as they walked up the sidewalk. All the units were identical. The complex was situated next to the little store on the corner so residents could walk if they didn’t own an automobile.

She was grateful Joleen wasn’t still living in that run-down house where she and Hank had lived with the Mulligans. She hoped they’d burned down the place.

Jaxon knocked on the door while she studied the surroundings. Dirt marred the doorstep, and the flowers in the hanging basket had been dead for ages. Joleen had never been a housekeeper, one of the things that had triggered Wade’s temper. He’d ranted that since he paid the bills, the least she could do was wash the dishes and have a meal on the table when he got home from work.

Considering the fact that her grocery money paid for her booze and her meals had mostly consisted of vodka, Joleen hadn’t cared if any of them went hungry.

Jaxon knocked again, and finally they heard footsteps shuffling. The door screeched open, and Joleen peeked outside. Avery bit back a gasp at the woman’s stark features.

The years and alcohol hadn’t been kind to Joleen. Dark circles lined her glazed, bloodshot eyes; her skin looked yellow, deep wrinkles sagging around her chin, mouth and eyes.

Her graying eyebrows drew together in a frown. “What you want?”

“We need to talk to you,” Jaxon said.

She pinched her lips together as she glared at Avery. “Who are you?”

“It’s me, Avery Tierney,” Avery said.

“Go away,” Joleen snarled. “I don’t have anything to say to you.”

Jaxon caught the door when she tried to close it. “Actually it’s Sergeant Ward with the Texas Rangers. And you do need to let us in.”

Joleen ran a shaky hand through her scraggly hair, her eyes piercing Avery. “You got a lot of nerve showing up here after what you did to my family.”

Jaxon shouldered his way past her, and Avery followed, stunning Joleen. She staggered back toward the couch in the den as if to escape them. The strong scent of booze assaulted Avery, mingling with the musty odor of the apartment, which looked as if it hadn’t been cleaned in months. Dirty laundry, magazines and food-crusted dishes were everywhere. A coffee cup with something moldy in it sat on the coffee table beside a plate dried with eggs.

“We need to ask you some questions,” Jaxon said.

Joleen picked up her tumbler and swirled the vodka around. “Why you coming around?” she asked Avery. “You want me to say I’m sorry your brother’s about to get the needle for what he done?”

“My brother is innocent,” Avery said.

“The hell you say,” Joleen muttered. “You saw him stab my Wade.”

“That’s true,” Avery said. “But I talked to Hank, and he told me that your husband was already dead when he stabbed him.”

A bitter laugh escaped the woman. “Yeah, he would say that now that he’s going to die—”

“Mrs. Mulligan,” Jaxon interrupted sharply, “I need you to tell me what you remember about that day.”

Joleen huffed, then tossed back a swallow of her drink. “Why? You trying to get that boy off?”

“I’m simply verifying the facts,” Jaxon said. “So the sooner you answer my questions, the sooner we’ll be out of your hair. Then you can get back to whatever you were doing.”

Which would be finishing the bottle, Avery thought.

Joleen’s hand shook as she reached for a lighter and pack of cigarettes on the table. “Got up same as usual. Wade went to work at the garage like always. I got a call from my mama saying she was ill and needed help.” She tapped the pack against her hand, pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Once she exhaled the smoke, she continued, “I left Hank in charge.” Another bitter laugh. “It was a mistake ever trusting that kid. Something was off about him.”

“What? Because he was angry?” Avery said. “He had a right to be angry. We were tossed from house to house, and you and your husband made it clear that the only reason you took us in was to get that government check each month.”

“We took you in ’cause nobody else wanted you,” Joleen roared back. “And after what happened, I can see why. Hank was a mean kid, violent.” Her hand shook as she took another drag on the cigarette. “I was so scared of him I used to lock my door every night.”

Avery bit her tongue to keep from defending her brother. “You closed your door when you were passed out so Wade wouldn’t come in and bother you. You closed it so you wouldn’t have to hear what he was doing to me.”

“You always were a little troublemaker,” Joleen snarled. “Flaunting yourself in front of him. Asking for it.”

“I was nine years old. I never asked for anything,” Avery said. “Except for a home and a family. One that didn’t use and abuse me.”

“You ungrateful snit,” Joleen quipped. “You wanted Wade to come in there, wanted him to love you. That’s why he did it.”

“He did it because you let him,” Avery snapped. “You didn’t want him touching you, so you let him turn to me for that.”

Joleen’s eyes blazed with rage. “I was afraid of him just like I was afraid of Hank.”

Avery was trembling all over. She started to retaliate, but Jaxon caught her hand and squeezed it. His soothing look gave her comfort.

Still, all the anger and hurt and humiliation she’d felt over the years threatened to make her explode.

* * *

J
AXON
WANTED
TO
pull Avery into his arms and comfort her. He also wanted to get her as far away from this horrible excuse of a woman as he could. To protect her from the woman’s vicious accusations.

But he’d come here for answers, and he didn’t intend to leave without them.

“Why exactly were you afraid of Hank?” Jaxon asked.

“Because that kid was mean as a snake,” Joleen growled.

“Hank wasn’t mean,” Avery said. “He was angry at you and your husband for the way you treated us.”

“We gave you food and a roof over your head,” Joleen snapped. “But you didn’t appreciate anything.”

Avery started to protest again, but Jaxon gave her a warning look. “Mrs. Mulligan, did your husband ever hit you?”

The woman tapped ashes into a dirty coffee cup. “No, but he came at me a couple of times.”

Avery’s eyes widened, but she bit back a response.

“Did your husband ever hit Hank?” Jaxon continued.

Joleen tossed back the rest of her vodka. “He had to,” she muttered. “Kids need discipline, and that boy needed plenty of it.”

“Where were you when these beatings occurred?”

“Making dinner or taking care of the house.”

Avery’s sigh suggested the woman was lying, that she’d probably been passed out.

“How about Avery?” Jaxon asked. “Did Wade ever hurt her?”

Joleen fidgeted, stubbed out her cigarette and poured herself another drink. “My husband was good to her,” she said when she finally answered. “He loved Avery. That was his only flaw. Then those kids turned on him, and cost me everything. My Wade. My house. It’s their fault I ended up here.”

Anger surged through Jaxon. “Wade loved Avery so much that he molested her?”

Joleen jumped up, shoes clacking as she paced in front of the couch. “You got a lot of damn nerve speaking ill of the dead. That boy killed him, that’s all there is to it.” She swung her hand toward the door. “Now get the hell out.”

Avery stood, rubbing her hands down her jeans as if she couldn’t wait to leave. Jaxon stood as well, but he fisted his hands by his sides to keep from shaking the woman. She was a pathetic drunk, but that didn’t excuse the fact that she’d allowed her husband to mistreat Hank and Avery.

“You said you went to see your mother. Is there anyone who can verify that you were with her all night?”

“You,” Joleen shouted. “You trying to make me look bad? Like I killed Wade?”

“Just answer the question,” Jaxon said.

Joleen crossed her arms. “My mama could. But she’s dead.”

“Was she in the hospital at the time?” Jaxon asked.

“No, at home.”

“I suppose she lived alone?”

Joleen nodded. “Now, I’m done with you. If you wanted to pin this on me, you’re way off. Hank killed Wade, and he’s going to die for it.”

Avery’s expression bordered between rage and disgust. “I should have known you wouldn’t help, just like you stood by and let your husband molest me. You’re nothing but a sorry drunk, Joleen.”

Joleen lunged toward Avery, but Jaxon stepped in front of Joleen to prevent her from touching Avery. “She’s right,” Jaxon said in a low voice. “In fact, if Hank did kill your husband, I don’t blame him. The legal system got it wrong this time. They should have put you in jail as an accomplice to child abuse, child endangerment and rape.” He balled his hands into fists. “And I’m going to do everything I can to see that the truth is exposed and that Hank Tierney goes free.”

Barely able to control his rage, Jaxon coaxed Avery toward the door, before he strangled the woman to death himself.

* * *

A
VERY
SANK
INTO
the passenger seat, her heart hammering.

When she was little, she’d been scared of Joleen, not because she’d ever hit her, but she’d yelled and cursed and said horrible things to her. Had told her she was worthless and that was the reason no family wanted her.

And after Wade started coming into the room at night, she’d accused Avery of being a dirty girl.

She had
felt
dirty back then. Had felt as though she must have done something wrong to have brought that man to her bed.

Looking back, she realized that she hadn’t done anything wrong. She was a child caught in a terrible situation.

In fact, she’d covered herself in clothes, long baggy shirts and sweatpants.

Anything to keep him from looking at her.

But it hadn’t made a difference.

“Are you all right?” Jaxon asked as he slid into the seat beside her.

Avery leaned her head on her hand. “Yes. I...can’t believe I used to be afraid of her. That I let her make me feel like I was nothing. She’s pathetic.”

“Yes, she is.” Jaxon angled himself toward her. “I know it took a lot of courage for you to face her.”

His praise nearly brought her to tears. She’d grown so accustomed to people being cruel to her or judging her by her past that when someone treated her with kindness, it touched her deeply.

Jaxon started the engine. “She was lying. She knew her husband was coming into your room.”

“Of course she did, and she allowed it to happen,” Avery said. “Like I said, she didn’t want him touching her, so she was happy to let him use me.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “She might have not minded,” he admitted. “Then again, if she was afraid of him, maybe she sneaked back and killed him, then let Hank take the fall.”

“You think that’s possible?”

“I think she might be more cunning than you gave her credit for.” And if she had killed Mulligan, she needed to pay.

Chapter Seven

As Jaxon drove away from the complex, he contemplated the theory that Joleen had actually lied about being with her mother or returned home that night. Money hadn’t been a motive.

But she could have come in, realized her husband was at it again and snapped.

Or could she have planned it—lied and said she was going to take care of her mother, waited till night, then sneaked back and stabbed him.

Maybe Avery had witnessed the murder and been so traumatized that she’d blocked it out. When Hank had seen Wade dead on the floor, he’d assumed his sister had stabbed Mulligan, and lied to protect her.

The scenario made sense. Not that he could sell it to a judge without proof.

More questions nagged at him. If Joleen had been drinking as much back then as she was now, would she have been able to pull off a murder without Avery or Hank knowing she was in the house?

Hell, could she even have driven?

But if Avery were right, that the woman welcomed the fact that he used her for sex instead of his wife, then she had no motive.

“I don’t know, Jaxon,” Avery said. “Joleen was really meek around her husband. I can’t imagine her standing up for me by killing him. I don’t think she cared enough.”

That was even sadder. “I can’t believe that social worker placed you with that family.”

Avery sighed. “She said she didn’t have a lot of options. Joleen was right. No one wanted me and Hank, not with our father incarcerated for murder.”

“Tell me about him,” Jaxon said.

Bitter memories washed over her. “I was four, Hank nine. My father was upset over my mother leaving. He got in a bar fight and killed a man the same night.”

“So you lost both your parents at once?”

She nodded, remembering how confused she’d been. Hank had been her rock.

But the stigma of being a jailbird kid had made her life more difficult. And then her brother had ended up in prison for homicide, as well.

Jaxon’s pulse kicked up. “Did the lawyer bring up your father’s history at the trial?”

Avery shrugged. “I don’t remember. I wasn’t in the court for the trial, just when they called me to testify.”

“I’m going to study the transcripts, then talk to the prosecutor and the attorney who defended your brother. Do you remember him?”

“Not really,” Avery said. “Just that he was young, a public defender.”

The kid had probably been overloaded with cases, and considering Hank’s confession, he hadn’t dug very deep for a defense.

Jaxon turned onto the street leading to Avery’s house, again struck by her home’s neatly kept lawn and fresh paint. Obviously growing up in a rat trap had made her appreciate her home. “I’ll let you know when I get the social worker’s information and set up a time.”

She handed him a business card. “You have my cell number, but this is my work number.”

He glanced at it with a smile. “You work at a vet clinic?”

She nodded. “As an assistant. I like taking care of animals.”

Because they gave unconditional love.

“Does that mean you have a houseful of cats?”

She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “No, no pets.”

Probably went back to the attachment issue.

Amazing how easy she was to read. Yet how complicated she was at the same time. She’d lived through hell, but she’d survived and managed to make a life for herself.

“Avery, were there other foster children placed with the Mulligans when you and Hank stayed there?”

Avery rubbed her forehead in thought. “There was another girl there when we first arrived. I think her name was Lois. I’m not sure what happened to her, though.”

“I’ll look into it,” Jaxon said. “You know, Mulligan may have abused other girls before you.”

Avery’s face paled. “I suppose you’re right. I never really thought about it.”

“It’s another question for the social worker.”

Anger flashed in her eyes. “Yes, it is.”

He almost regretted suggesting the idea, but Avery wanted the truth, and if she hadn’t been the first girl Wade had molested, the social worker might know.

Even if she hadn’t known, though, another victim meant someone else had a motive to kill Wade.

“Don’t think about it too much tonight,” he said gently. “Just get some rest.”

She reached for the door handle, then turned to face him. “Thank you again, Jaxon.”

Her thanks made guilt mushroom inside him. He hadn’t done anything yet. Worse, his efforts might not make a difference at all.

Her brother could still be put to death if he didn’t find some answers fast.

* * *

A
VERY
LET
HERSELF
inside her house, disturbed at the idea that Wade had hurt others before her.

And that the social worker might have known and placed her and Hank there anyway.

If Wade hadn’t been murdered, he would have continued the pattern.

She wanted to thank whoever had killed him for saving future victims.

But whoever had killed him had let Hank rot in prison for his crime.

The house seemed eerily quiet tonight, making her think about Jaxon’s questions. She worked at a vet clinic, but had no pets of her own. That might seem odd to him. But she’d gotten attached to a dog at one of her foster houses, and it had ripped out her heart when she’d had to leave it.

She’d vowed never to get attached to anything else again.

At the clinic, she could pet the animals, but she knew they’d be going home with their owners.

She made herself a salad, then slipped on her pajamas and turned on the television. But the news was on.

“Today, protestors against the death penalty rallied outside the prison objecting to Hank Tierney’s upcoming execution.”

The camera panned the crowd of protestors, who were chanting and waving signs to stop the lethal injection from happening.

Guilt plagued her for waiting so long to visit her brother. If she’d done so sooner and he’d told her the truth, she would have had more time to help him.

What if she’d waited too long and it was too late?

* * *

A
VERY
’
S
FACE
HAUNTED
Jaxon all night. In less than a week, her brother would be executed.

He reminded himself not to let things get personal, but he couldn’t help sympathizing with her. Her eyes were like a sensual magnet drawing him to her.

He stepped onto the porch of his ranch house, pausing to listen to the creek rippling in back. He’d bought the land because he liked wide-open spaces, enjoyed riding on his days off and fishing.

Only tonight it felt quiet. Maybe too quiet. Lonely.

Hell, he liked to be alone.

But for some reason, he imagined Avery beside him, maybe sipping wine on the porch. The two of them talking in soft hushed voices. Her fingers roaming up his neck, her kisses feathering against his cheek.

Then he saw her on the ranch, riding across the pasture, her hair blowing wildly around her face. She was laughing, a musical sound that made him want to drag her off the horse and make love to her.

Dammit. He forced the images from his mind.

He had to work. Making love to Avery was not in his future.

He grabbed a beer when he went inside, dropped the take-out burger he’d picked up on his way home onto the table, then spread out the trial transcript.

The prosecuting attorney in the case was the assistant D.A. at the time, now the D.A.—Snyderman. Due to the viciousness of the attack and number of stab wounds, he’d pushed to have Hank tried as an adult. He displayed pictures of Wade Mulligan’s mutilated body, showing the brutality of the crime, no doubt shocking the jurors into convicting without hesitation.

Witnesses against Hank included Avery, age nine, Joleen Mulligan, and two other foster parents, Teresa and Carl Brooks, and Philip and Sally Cotton. Both had testified that Hank was an angry kid, that he exhibited episodes of lashing out, and that he hadn’t been a good fit in their homes, that the younger children were afraid of him.

Avery’s account of the events of that night read just as she’d told him. When asked if she’d been afraid of her brother, she’d said no, that he always protected her.

Neither the prosecutor nor the defense attorney had pushed her for more when they could easily have encouraged her to explain her comment. Why had Hank felt the need to protect her?

If they’d pursued that line of questioning, the truth about Wade Mulligan would at least have been exposed, garnering sympathy from the jury.

But the attorney had skimmed over the details and focused on Hank’s confession.

The public defender, a new graduate barely out of diapers, had argued against the death penalty, claiming Hank was emotionally disturbed.

The A.D.A. had agreed that Hank was disturbed, but because he exhibited no signs of remorse, argued that he was psychotic. He ended his closing arguments by reminding the jurors of the number of stab wounds he’d inflicted on Wade Mulligan, arguing that Hank was not only dangerous, but also had no rehabilitative qualities.

Jaxon heaved a breath of frustration. The public defender should have requested Hank undergo a psychological exam, should have had both Hank and Avery medically evaluated and should have introduced the abuse factor. He should have researched past foster children placed with the Mulligans to see if there was a history of problems with the family.

Jaxon had hoped Casey would call with the social worker’s name, but he found it in the transcripts—Delia Hanover.

According to Delia, Hank Tierney had anger issues related to his father, had trouble adapting and fitting in and he had hated Wade Mulligan. He’d asked her to move him and Avery from the home, and she was searching for another family to take them, but he killed Mulligan before she could find another placement.

Hank’s attorney should have pushed her for more details on the reason Hank had requested a change.

Jaxon scrubbed his hand over the back of his neck, then sipped his beer.

At the least, the public defender should have cut a deal with the A.D.A. for an insanity plea and had Hank moved to a psychiatric hospital.

He studied the photographs of Mulligan’s body, the dozens of stab wounds, and understood why the jurors had voted him guilty.

But they hadn’t had all the facts.

Would these revelations be enough for a judge to grant a retrial?

He doubted it.

He needed a look at the autopsy report. But it wasn’t in the file.

He would get it, though. If there were evidence of a second perpetrator, maybe that would be enough to convince a judge to stop the execution.

* * *

A
VERY
SHIVERED
AND
dug her feet into the covers. She wished she could just disappear forever.

Maybe if she pulled them up high enough over her, she could hide underneath and he wouldn’t find her.

The ping, ping, ping of the rain on the tin roof sounded like nails driving down. Footsteps sounded.

Then his voice mumbling something she couldn’t understand. But she knew what would come next.

“Leave her alone!” Hank shouted.

“Shut up, you little bastard.”

Then a slap across the face. She’d heard the sound so many times she should be used to it, but it still made her stomach heave.

“Beat me, but leave her alone,” Hank bellowed.

Tears leaked down Avery’s cheeks. Hank was always taking care of her. She clenched the sheets, sweating all over. She had to tell someone. Get her and Hank out of here.

She jumped from the bed and rushed to the door. Wade slammed his fist into Hank’s stomach, but Hank lunged at him. They wrestled and fell to the floor. Hank kicked at Wade, his foot connecting with Wade’s knee.

Wade grunted in pain and punched Hank again, this time so hard blood spurted from Hank’s nose.

Avery covered her scream with her hand, terrified, as Wade dragged Hank to his bedroom.

He was going to tie him up. Hank wouldn’t be able to help her.

She slammed her door and tried to lock it. Looked for the stick she’d sneaked into the house to try to fight him off with.

Wade shouted an obscenity, then began to pound the door with his fists. The door jarred. Wood splintered.

Avery jumped back against the wall. She was trembling all over. Felt sick to her stomach.

The door splintered and Wade stormed in. His face looked red, his eyes full of rage. He swung his hand out to grab her.

“Come here, girl. You got to earn your keep.”

Avery screamed, “No,” and swung the stick out. She hit him across the face, and he staggered. The rancid smell of his breath struck her as he lunged toward her and grabbed the stick.

Then he shoved her onto the bed. She looked up and saw the stick coming at her, and she covered her face with her hands and screamed again as he delivered the first blow....

Avery jerked awake, shaking all over and clawing at the bedding.

It took her a moment to realize that she was having a nightmare.

That Wade Mulligan wasn’t here now, and that he could never hurt her again.

Her phone jangled, a trilling sound that sent a shiver through her. Hand trembling, she reached for it, praying Jaxon had good news.

But another voice echoed back. One that sounded garbled.

Only the words were clear.

“Your brother is a killer. He deserves to die. And you’ll die, too, if you try to get him off.”