Cop by Her Side (The Mysteries of Angel Butte) (19 page)

When Clay arrived at the hospital, he spotted Jane and Drew right away. They sat close to each other in the waiting area outside ICU. His head was bent close to hers, and their hands were clasped. Clay was better able to suppress the flare of jealousy than the last time he’d seen a similar scene, but it was there, clenching his stomach.

At the sound of his footfalls, Jane looked up. He thought he saw relief on her face, which untied some of his own tension. Of course she wasn’t turning to her brother-in-law, not after having made love with Clay. And sure as hell not when her sister would need her husband so much.

Lissa, it turned out, was sleeping. They’d decided to wait out here for him. No, she hadn’t yet asked about the girls, and neither of them had said anything. They’d probably been dreading that moment.

“Thank you for waiting,” he said. He restrained the urge to kiss Jane, but he did lay a hand on her back as the three of them entered ICU together.

The nurse emerging from Lissa’s small room looked as if she’d like to protest the
en masse
invasion, but her gaze flicked to the badge at his belt and, after only a brief hesitation and crimped lips, she stepped aside without saying anything. Like every other person in the tri-county area, she must know about the missing girl.

Lissa still didn’t look like the beautiful woman she’d been in the family photos, not with the ugly bruising and the remains of swelling, but even before she opened her eyes, Clay could see significant change. It was obvious she
was
sleeping, and not unconscious.

Drew went right to her side and took her hand. “Liss,” he said softly.

Her lashes fluttered several times and then her eyes opened, focusing on her husband’s face. After a moment they roved, finding first Jane’s and then Clay’s. She kept staring at him, the stranger at the foot of her bed.

Her eyes were a color that, like Jane’s, could be labeled hazel, but were closer to brown flecked with some gold and green. He hadn’t been able to tell from the photo.

“Mrs. Wilson,” he said, nodding to her. “I’m Sergeant Brenner with the Butte County Sheriff’s Department.”

Puzzlement crinkled her forehead, but she murmured, “Sergeant.”

“I’m glad to see you recovering.”

“Thank you.”

Jane, he saw from the corner of his eye, had moved around the bed to stand at her sister’s side, opposite Drew. Protectively?

“I’m hoping you’ll be able to answer some questions.” He paused. Lissa’s expression didn’t change at all, but he still felt sure she was bracing herself. “Do you remember the accident?”

“No,” she said faintly. “Jane and Drew told me, but...” She trailed off.

“Did they say where it occurred?”

Something flared in her eyes, but she shook her head slightly.

“253rd.” He described the location. “Are you familiar with the Bear Creek area?”

“No.” She turned her head to look at her husband. “Why would I be there?”

“That’s what we need to know, Mrs. Wilson.” Clay hardened his voice. “Do you recall that your daughter Bree was with you in the vehicle when you went off the road?”

Her eyes, wildly dilating, met his again. “
What?
Was... She wasn’t hurt, was she?” That gave her an excuse to turn a pleading look on her husband.

His mouth opened, then closed. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

Clay ruthlessly intervened. “We don’t know. She has been missing since the accident. If you dropped her off somewhere beforehand, we need to know.”

She broke into wild sobs. Jane took a step closer to the bed and bent over to smooth a hand over her sister’s forehead. “Shh. We’ll find her, Liss. We will.” She glared at Clay, all her conflict written in her expression. Anguish and anger and doubt.

He might understand the anger, but it pissed him off anyway. Was he the only one here whose first priority was Brianna, seven years old and vulnerable in a way her mother wasn’t? If so, it was a goddamn irony, considering he was the only one of them who had never met the kid.

“Where is she?” Lissa was sobbing. Her whole body thrashed. A nurse rushed into the room and condemned him with her stare, but when he jerked his head peremptorily toward the door, she reluctantly withdrew.

“Where?” Lissa cried. “Oh, God! Lexie! Is Lexie all right?”

“Lexie is fine,” her husband soothed her. “But Bree—” His voice broke. “We need your help, Liss. You have to tell us if you know anything.”

“How could I? If...if she wandered away or...or someone took her when I was unconscious?”

Her husband and sister swabbed at her tears and kept saying useless things like, “Of course we understand. We’ll find her. But if there’s anything at all you remember...?”

Disgusted, Clay interrupted. “Mrs. Wilson, I really need to know why you lied to your husband.” She broke off midsob. There was pure fear on her face, he’d swear it. “You told him were running a brief errand, to Rite Aid. But you never went there at all. Instead you ended up ten miles away on an obscure country road, where you were apparently driving at high speed with your daughter in the vehicle with you. If we knew why you were there and whether you were being pursued, we might have a chance of finding out who took your daughter and why.”

“I don’t remember anything!” she cried. “Why would I lie? How can you say that?” Her face crumpled theatrically as she peered up at her husband. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She looked damn pathetic, between her expression, the bruises and the tears. “You don’t believe him, do you, Drew?” She was heading toward hysteria. “You know I wouldn’t—”

“You’re still confused,” Jane began, but the glance Clay flicked at her sliced off the rest of what she’d meant to say.

“You were acting strange,” Drew said, in an oddly neutral voice. “You didn’t want to take Bree with you. And you didn’t go to Rite Aid—”

Her wild stare swung between them. “How do you know?”

“We’ve interviewed every clerk working last Saturday,” Clay said. “No one saw you. You didn’t make a purchase.”

“But...maybe I didn’t find what I wanted.”

“It was a quiet day at the store. The clerks were quite certain they’d have seen you if you’d come in. Your picture and Brianna’s have been plastered all over the newspapers and the television news. Two of the clerks remembered you from other times you shopped there. Not a single customer has called to say, ‘But I saw them at Rite Aid.’”

“I might have gotten a call—”

“We’ve looked at your phone records. The only call made to or from your mobile phone that day is the one
you
made, telling your husband you’d forgotten to purchase an item he’d asked you to pick up at Rite Aid. That call was likely made moments before the accident.”

Powerful emotions were working under this woman’s too-slick surface. He couldn’t tell which one would win.

“I don’t remember anything!” she screamed. “Bree—oh, God, Bree.” She threw herself onto her side and fell into a storm of weeping.

After a telling moment of hesitation, Drew reached for her and began to murmur to her in a soft voice.

Frustrated, Clay knew he wasn’t going to get anything out of her. Without a word, he turned and walked out. He heard footsteps behind him and knew Jane had followed.

They were no sooner through the double, swinging doors when she snapped, “You knew how she’d react when she found out Bree was missing! You might have gotten somewhere with sympathy.”

“Sympathy?” He spun to face her, glad they were alone out here for the moment. “You think that’s what she needed?”

“Yes!”

He was in love with her, and she was confronting him as if he was the enemy. Good to know, he thought viciously.

He took a step closer until he loomed over her. “Tell me you didn’t believe her.”

Jane wasn’t the woman to back down. Her chin rose a notch and, if anything, she thrust it toward him, her expression fulminating. “I told you how confused she is! Of course she went nuts when she found out her daughter is missing! What, you expected her to give it cool, collected thought? Really?”

His lip curled. “You’re a detective, and you don’t know an act when you see one?”

“Maybe you’re the one who doesn’t know genuine emotion when you see it.”

Man, she was looking at him as if she despised him. In her eyes, he’d been brutal. Had she really bought that hysterical, woe-is-me shit, hook, line and sinker? He couldn’t believe it.

It took him a minute to unclench his jaw. “You know what, Jane? Your sister started lying from the minute I asked the first question. She may not have known Brianna was missing. She might not even remember the accident itself.” Keeping his voice level was a challenge. “But she knew damn well why she was out on 253rd. I think she has a real good idea who took Bree and why. And I’ll be back to talk to her, whether you like it or not.” His scathing look swept over Jane’s flushed face. “But you go on back in there and pat her hand some more, if that makes you feel better.”

Her mouth opened in clear indignation, but nothing came out.

Clay was too mad to do anything but leave. Hoping she’d call after him, but knowing she wouldn’t.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A
N
INARTICULATE
SOUND
of fury escaped Jane’s throat as she watched Clay stalk out. All she could think was, she’d
known
what a jackass he could be. So why was she surprised? And...disappointed?

So much churned inside her, she was afraid to move. She was afraid she’d do some damage if she did. Slamming her fist into a wall appealed to her as it never had before.

She must have stood there for five minutes before her stomach began to hurt so much, she stumbled over to the chairs and sank onto one, bending over into a near-fetal position.

Oh, Lissa.
Then, with greater anguish,
Bree.
And finally,
Clay.

She rocked, torn by so many emotions she could hardly grab onto any one as it spun by. She’d needed Clay to—

Understand. That was it. Be here for her.

Find Bree.
Even in her misery, she knew that was what she needed most from him.

And that was what he’d been trying to do.

I sabotaged him,
she realized. Even Drew had done better than she had. Lissa had been able to see and hear his doubt. But her sister the cop?
I wanted to jump between her and her attacker. Hold her. Comfort her.

Because that’s what I always did.

The painful cramping in her stomach wasn’t letting up. She kept flashing back to that last expression on Clay’s face, so different from the way he’d looked at her lately. She didn’t mind the anger as much as she did the disgust.

God help her, she
deserved
his disdain.

He was right. Lissa had lied. First to last, she’d lied. And Jane had known on one level, even as she locked into automatic defense mode.

How many times had she done that? How many times had she backed Lissa when she didn’t deserve it? Jane thought wretchedly,
What I did was enabling.
Maybe
she
was responsible for the calculating, manipulative woman her sister had become.

She’d thought she was giving love and support, and now she knew how blind she’d been. Clinging to an illusion of closeness, of love given in return when maybe there never was any.

Her mind had begun to work with cold clarity. How often had Lissa played her? If she didn’t truly love Jane, did she love anyone?

Even Bree?

Jane discovered she’d sat up straighter and was staring at an uninteresting landscape that hung on the wall.

No, that wasn’t right. She’d seen the expression on her sister’s face when she looked at her daughters. Heard her laughter, her terror when one of them did something reckless. Of course she loved Alexis and Bree.

Jane closed her eyes.
And me. Of course she loves me.
Maybe not the way Jane wanted to be loved. She was the one who needed a closeness that Lissa didn’t. Partly because Lissa had a family and Jane didn’t.

A conclusion reached, she walled it off. This wasn’t about her. It was about Bree.

Jane believed Lissa
hadn’t
known Bree had been snatched. Her shock and horror had been genuine. So...why hadn’t she leaped to tell them anything she could that would bring Bree safely home?

Why had she lied, and without even pausing to think it through? If she’d been having an affair, say, would hiding it come ahead of getting Bree back? Jane frowned. No—unless Lissa knew full well that whoever had snatched Bree wouldn’t hurt her.

What other reason could explain her decision to lie?

Fear, of course.

Because she knew her silence was all that kept Bree safe. Alive. Somehow, the minute she’d been told that Bree had been snatched, she’d understood what had happened and why.

Only—why had she driven out past the Bear Creek county park in the first place? If it was to meet someone, she couldn’t have been that afraid of him or her, or she surely wouldn’t have gone once she’d been compelled to take Bree with her.

But something had happened. Had she actually stopped, then saw something that made her panic? Panicked even before she stopped, and decided to step on the gas and get out of there?

Which parts did she remember, and which were still hazy for her?

The pain in Jane’s stomach intensified as she thought about how she’d blown it with Clay. He’d shown such trust in her. Treated her with the respect she’d wanted from him. And her? The first time he’d really needed her backing—the first time she’d had to make a choice between him and Lissa—she’d gone with knee-jerk outrage and defensiveness. Either he was steaming right now, or he’d written her off.

She’d rather think he was mad than so disgusted he no longer gave a damn.

Feeling very old suddenly, Jane tried to figure out what to do next. Go back in and see what was happening with Lissa? Call Clay and hope he’d listen to an apology?

Clay, of course, but, oh, she didn’t want to do this.

* * *

G
IVEN
THAT
THIS
was Labor Day weekend, a drive that should have taken ten minutes took closer to twenty. Tourists had multiplied like mosquitoes in May. It seemed as if everyone on the road was driving like an idiot, too. If he hadn’t been within the Angel Butte city limits for most of the way, and therefore out of his own jurisdiction, Clay would have been tempted to hit the siren and issue a few tickets.

When his phone rang and Clay saw Jane’s number, he muted the ring with a single, hard stab. Let her leave a message. Right now, he didn’t want to talk to her.

He knew he’d get over it. Knew he’d even forgive her, because he understood the pressure she was under and that her sister still claimed her first loyalty. But, goddamn it, he didn’t like it.

He’d just parked and opened the door of his Cherokee when she called. Now, instead of getting out, he waited for the hum that would tell him he had a new voice mail message.

It came quickly. Teeth clenched, he typed in his password and listened.

“I’m hoping we can talk, Clay.” She sounded dignified and repressed. “No matter what, I owe you an apology. I suppose...” The silence stretched, until he expected the beep that would tell him she had hung up without finishing. But finally she said softly, “I wanted to believe her.” This time she was gone.

He groaned and bumped his head several times against the headrest. Call her? Or let himself cool down?

“Shit,” he said aloud, and touched Reply. A moment later, her phone was ringing.

“Clay?” She sounded surprised. She hadn’t expected him to call back.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat.

“You got my message?”

“Yeah,” he said again. “I owe you an apology, too.” This was hard to say. “I think I had to push your sister. But I was an asshole to you. I wanted—” Hell. He hadn’t meant to say that.

Of course she picked up on it. “You wanted?”

“Your cooperation,” he said, even though that wasn’t what he’d really wanted. “I was frustrated, too. It’s been a week, Jane. The chances of getting your niece back are diminishing by the minute.”

“I know.” Her voice was small.

“You have any suggestions?”

“I’m waiting to talk to Drew. Maybe I’m wrong, but I think she’s more likely to crack if he’s the one applying the pressure.”

She was admitting, more directly than she had with the apology, that she, too, knew her sister had lied. If this was anyone else, he’d have felt victorious. Instead he wished she didn’t have to face such a cruel truth.

Setting his emotions aside, Clay thought about the scene in ICU. He pictured how Jane’s sister had responded when her husband had expressed doubt. She’d been shocked. She had never imagined he wouldn’t believe every word out of her mouth. Maybe from arrogance, maybe habit. It was pretty clear Drew had been blinding himself to his wife’s behavior for a while. His jumping in and insisting she take their daughter with her on her supposed errand might have been his first rebellion against her recent dominance. From what he’d said, she had been furious—but she’d been the one to surrender.

“I think you’re right,” he said slowly. “If he won’t do it, what about you?”

“I don’t see that working.” Jane sounded sad. “I told you we haven’t been getting along very well. Even if we’d been doing better lately, she has this pattern of lashing out at me whenever I’m giving her advice she doesn’t want, or she imagines I’m asserting some kind of big-sister authority. Me trying might be the worst thing we could do.”

“All right.” The uncomfortable density in his chest told him he’d already let go of his anger. He wished she was here, or he was there. He wanted to be able to put his arms around her. “Do you want me there?” he asked.

“Um...let me talk to Drew and see what he thinks.” If she’d heard Clay’s double meaning, she wasn’t letting on. “Lissa really
was
hysterical. She’s still at the stage where she conks out after about ten minutes of conversation. We need to let her rest.”

He grunted reluctant agreement.

“I’ll call.”

His hand tightened on the phone. “I’ll be waiting.”

She said goodbye and was gone.

Crap. He’d be pacing again.

* * *

D
REW
HADN
’
T
KNOWN
he was capable of such anger. He had always been laid-back. There was a time he’d considered being easygoing a virtue. The contrast between their personalities might explain why he’d fallen so hard for Lissa when he met her. He bored himself sometimes. He knew she’d never bore him.

Lately, though, he’d had to admit to himself that he and Lissa weren’t equal partners, or anything close to it. He’d deferred, without even noticing he was doing it, because she was stronger. That might not ever have mattered—he might never even have become aware it was happening—if she had loved him as much as he loved her. If she’d wanted what was best for them, and for their family.

He wasn’t sure there was an
us
anymore. Nor was he sure he wanted there to be. He had been praying for her to come out of the coma, partly for her sake, but most of all so she could help them find Bree.

And then she’d lied. The woman he had loved was protecting herself at their child’s expense. The fact that she could do so was unthinkable to him. He would die for either of their daughters. He would have died for
her.
Today, even as he’d soothed her back to sleep, he kept thinking he didn’t know her at all.

Right at this moment, he came close to hating her.

Once she was asleep, he told Jane he’d be back in a few hours and went for a drive. He followed Highway 31 southeast into drier country, glad of the lack of traffic. He could almost empty his mind when he concentrated on shifting, pretended to take in his surroundings. Part of him wanted to keep going. Eventually he’d cross the border into California. Lissa had checked out for days. Why couldn’t he?

Because Alexis needed him. Bree might need him. Because he didn’t think he could stand it if Jane thought he was weak.

He was almost back to Angel Butte when he took an impulsive turn, following signs to the Arrow Lake Resort, but continuing on past it and the airport. He and Lissa had taken the girls swimming here—not last summer, but the previous one, he thought.

Without having consciously made the decision, he found himself on 253rd, passing the Bear Creek picnic area, where some kind of large family gathering seemed to be going on. A huge banner he couldn’t quite read hung between two pine trees. The crowd of people was a blur, colorful, cheerful even without him being able to hear the laughter. Drew stared for a minute, his foot lifting from the gas pedal, before he accelerated again and left it behind.

Torn vegetation made it obvious where Lissa had gone off the road. Just past it, he parked on the shoulder and walked back, looking in horror at the deep furrows and the gouges in the trunks of two small trees. If they hadn’t stopped the Venza’s descent—

How much worse could it have been? A quick death for Bree might have been better than whatever had happened to her. Pain slammed into him. He threw back his head until muscles and tendons strained and a shout ripped from his throat.

If the people at the campground heard, what would they think? He didn’t care.

Once he started back toward town, Drew was vaguely surprised to discover he was hungry. He didn’t want to go into a restaurant; people would recognize him and might ask questions. Even if all they did was express sympathy, he couldn’t take it. Instead he went to Taco Time, using the outside window and keeping his face averted as he paid for and accepted his food. Parked at the far corner of the lot, he gobbled, shocking himself until he thought back to the past few days and remembered how little he’d actually eaten. Thank God Alexis was being taken care of. He knew he was running out of internal resources. He had been living in the belief that Lissa would open her eyes and tell them how they could find Bree.

Now...now he felt as if he was hardening inside. Changing. He suspected he would never be the same man he’d been.

* * *

J
ANE
HAD
GONE
home and cleaned house. If Lissa woke up, no one from her family would be there. So what, Jane thought vengefully. She knew it wasn’t in her to be supportive right now. Like Drew, she had needed to get away.

Eventually she took a short nap on her own bed, then a shower. She had reached for her hair dryer when her phone rang.

“I’m back at the hospital.” It was Drew. His voice was unnaturally calm. “I’m ready to talk to her. Do you want to be here?”

“Yes. Give me ten minutes.”

“All right.” He paused. “Do we need to have Sergeant Renner here, too?”

She’d thought about it. “No. I think we have a better chance of getting answers from Lissa if he
isn’t
there.”

“I think so, too,” he agreed.

She should at least tell Clay what they were going to do, she thought during the drive. He might agree to let them do this alone...but he might not, too. She wasn’t prepared to take the risk.