Deadly Bonds (13 page)

He rubbed his temples. “I’m horrible at this. I’m sor—”

She held up a hand. “Do
not
say it again. Look, let’s agree that the kiss took both of us by—”

“—surprise?”

“—storm.”

He released a strangled laugh. “Yes, that sounds about right.”

“It’s okay. Really. If you still have feelings for Elizabeth, it’s understandable. But I thought...I mean, when you came all the way out here to give me the good news, and responded to my hug, I guess I thought you wanted something more. With me.”

His response was immediate and strong. “Hell, Sara. It’s pretty obvious that I want you.” He lifted his hand to brush a strand of blond hair from her face. He dropped his hand before it could linger to sample the softness of her cheek. “I have the past, and one important thing in my present, that I have to consider.”

“Theo.”

“Yes. And I still think about Elizabeth sometimes, and what she’d think...” He shoved impatient fingers through his hair. “I don’t want to carry any baggage into a new relationship.”

“Everyone has baggage. We worked around it just fine a minute ago.” Her gaze went to his mouth.

He stifled a groan and looked away, physically turning his body so it was no longer facing hers. He prided himself on logical conclusions drawn after logical arguments. Sara wasn’t logical. She wasn’t a rational choice. And yet he wanted her.

She touched his hand. “I don’t care about your baggage, since I carry it too. But I do care about Theo. I would never do anything to hurt him. And I’ve already told you I care about you.”

Holt looked away. “Half the time I don’t know who I am anymore. How the heck would I know what I want?” He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “I know I want you.”

“But you don’t know for how long, or if it’s just some physical reaction. Or maybe it’s just been a really long time for you.”

He winced. Was his body simply on hormone overdrive, led around by his dick to the first warm, willing woman it came into contact with? The thought was unwelcome, since he prided himself on being an intellectual. But he was a man too. One thing was certain. He didn’t want to make any false moves, any promises, before he figured out what he wanted...what was best.

“You’re right. We should back off from this for a while.”

Her expression turned stiff, as if she were holding in emotions she didn’t want him to see. “From what? It was one night of talking and a couple kisses. Don’t read too much into it. I haven’t.”

“I just don’t know if I’m ready to be in a relationship.”

“I’m not asking for that. You’re off the hook. Honest.” She looked at him sadly. “Go hunt your murderers and find justice for strangers. Maybe it’ll be enough.”

He could tell by the look on her face that she didn’t believe that. Worse, he was starting to doubt it himself.

Chapter Twelve

Jeremy’s bony elbow jabbed sharply into Theo’s stomach.

Theo looked up. “Hey!”

“Shh. Someone’s coming,” Jeremy whispered.

In the time between the end of class and when they’d be picked up, they were hiding out in the janitor’s closet tucked under the staircase on the first floor of the Academy, with the door cracked only slightly for fresh air. But apparently they’d been discovered. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the kindly old janitor who opened the door, but Miss Sara.

The splintered wood along the doorframe caught at her blond hair as she ducked inside and held out her hand. “Fork it over, boys. You know the rules.”

Theo gave the handheld gaming system to her. “Sorry.” It was an apology to both Jeremy and Miss Sara.

She glanced at the screen. “Death Files Two. Huh. I didn’t know they had another one out. I haven’t even finished the first one.”

“I’ve heard Scorpion’s Sting will be better.” Theo couldn’t wait.

Jeremy nodded, his face becoming animated. “I’ve asked for that one for Christmas.” With his parents getting divorced, he was enjoying the spoils of their war for custody. A gaming system was one of those perks. He was sure to get whatever he wanted for the holidays—especially since he was having two separate Christmases.

Miss Sara rolled her eyes. “It’s barely Halloween.”

“But only fifty-seven days until Christmas.”

She handed the system to Jeremy. “Put this in your backpack. It’s only for use at home or to and from school. It’s not allowed out of your backpack while on campus. You know the rules.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jeremy eagerly accepted the electronic gadget, along with the implied reprieve.

Miss Sara’s look was stern, but her lips twitched, like she was trying hard not to smile. “The janitor’s closet is off-limits. Besides, you two have a science test on Wednesday, don’t you? If you’re waiting for your rides home, you should spend the time studying.”

“We’re ready,” Theo said. This semester, he’d been working hard, and it was starting to pay off.

They filed past her into the foyer. As Miss Sara closed the door and they moved back down the hallway, the front door of the school opened. Jeremy’s father entered and walked toward them in weird, jerky strides. The guy was a spaz, but not the entertaining kind. Something about him made the hairs on Theo’s arms stand up. Mr. White, the school’s computer science teacher, entered behind him, then closed the door against the chilly mid-October afternoon.

“Thank you, Chad, for closing the door,” Miss Sara said to Mr. White. She looked right past Jeremy’s dad, who definitely wanted her attention. It was that adult way of pointing out what one person was doing wrong by emphasizing what another person was doing right. Using shame to teach right and wrong.
Classic.
But Mr. Rochard didn’t seem to learn his lesson. Probably because he had no sense of shame.

“Hey, Dad,” Jeremy said, but his dad ignored him.

“A word, Miss Burns.” Mr. Rochard barely opened his mouth as he spoke.

Miss Sara had gone all rigid, like Grandma did when Theo forgot to put the milk back in the refrigerator or tracked dirt in the house. She touched Theo on the shoulder. “You guys go study for that science test. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She turned back to Jeremy’s dad and gestured toward her office. “If you’ll follow me...”

“See you in a few, Dad?” Jeremy’s tone was hopeful.

“Sure.” Mr. Rochard was already walking away, following Miss Sara into her office.

Theo’s jaw hurt, and he realized he’d been grinding his teeth. “I know he’s your dad, but I don’t like the way he talks to people.”

Beside him, Jeremy shrugged. “You get used to it.”

“You heard her,” Mr. White said. Theo had forgotten the guy was standing there. “I hear that test is going to be tough.”

“Yes, sir.” Theo tugged his backpack higher on his shoulder and moved toward the door. Someday, he would do what he wanted, when he wanted. Like protect Miss Sara, even if she told him to go away. If his dad were here, Theo would have made him step up. Maybe his dad
could
do something. Now that Toxin was behind bars, if Theo pointed out that Miss Sara needed him, maybe he’d drop everything and help. Theo ran outside, not stopping until he came to a grouping of trees that offered some privacy. Cell phones were allowed in school, but only for emergencies. This qualified.

“Hey, wait up!” Jeremy caught up to Theo and gulped for breath. “Boy, you’re sure eager to study.” He settled on the grass and pulled a textbook out of his backpack while Theo brought out his phone and dialed.

His dad answered on the first ring. “Hey, bud. What’s up? Did Grandma pick you up?”

“Not yet.” He chewed his lip as he tried to decide how to ask for the favor.

“Is something wrong?” Dad actually sounded worried.

“It’s just...” He hadn’t wanted to bug his dad with stuff this past year. He had enough on his plate, and Grandma had told him to take it easy on him. So he’d avoided telling him most stuff. But this problem was bigger than Theo. “It’s Miss Sara.”

There was a pause. “What about her?”

Overhearing the conversation, Jeremy shot him a questioning look, but Theo pressed on. “I think she could use your help.”

“Is something wrong? Is she hurt?” Dad’s tone had turned even more worried.

“No, it’s just...” Theo stopped as Jeremy shook his head once. He should have taken the phone somewhere else before making the call. Apparently, Jeremy cared about his dad even if the man was a bully.

On the other end of the phone, Theo’s dad sighed. “Miss Sara is a grown woman. I’m sure she can take care of herself.”

Theo remembered the look on Mr. Rochard’s face and wasn’t so sure. “I know, but sometimes people need help. You said that sometimes we can’t take on everything by ourselves.”

“Theo, she knows she can ask for help if she needs it. Unless she’s hurt...”

His chest felt tight, like it had at Mom’s funeral. He felt a burning in his throat. “No,” he choked out. Not yet, anyway. Maybe he was blowing things out of proportion.

“Look, bud, if you’re truly worried, I can check in with her. Or maybe Grandma can talk to her when she gets there?”

“Never mind.”

“Theo—”

“I’ll handle it.
I’ll
watch out for her.” He hung up, trying to swallow past a tight lump.

“My dad won’t hurt her or anything.” Jeremy picked at a blade of grass that had turned to a brown, dry crisp in the cool autumn weather. “He likes to get his way, that’s all.”

* * *

Sara just wanted the man out of her office. John had balls of steel if he thought he could control her and the rest of the world.

“He’ll never get into Harvard with these scores.” John waved a paper with Neil’s SAT results in front of her face. She would have backed up if she weren’t already pressed against her desk. Max and Holt’s presentation on bullies and attackers came to mind. She wouldn’t give John the upper hand. Besides, Neil’s SAT scores weren’t that bad.

“He’ll get into a respectable school,” she said, appealing to his rational side. “Not Harvard, likely, but that’s not where he wants to go, anyway.”

John scowled. “He’s seventeen. He doesn’t know what he wants.”

“Have you ever taken the trouble to ask him?”

“I’m his father. I know best.”

“You don’t know
anything
because you don’t want to know the truth.” The air between them froze as John’s icy glare slid over her.

“Your time here is done. You had your chance. Several, in fact.” He spun on his heel and tossed the wadded-up score sheet into the trashcan on his way out of her office.

It took Sara several minutes before she could breathe beyond the tightness in her chest. Her fingers ached from gripping them into fists. The phone on her desk began to ring. Had John already succeeded in bending the ear of a board member? Was she about to be fired?

She snatched the receiver off its cradle. “The Hills Boys’ Academy.”

“Sara?”

The sound of Holt’s voice squeezed her chest harder. “Yes?”

“Are you okay? I heard...Theo called me because he was worried about you.”

Holt wasn’t calling of his own volition because he wanted to talk to her. He was simply doing his son a favor. “I’ll be fine.”

“You sure? You don’t sound okay.”

“Not a scratch on me.” Just a bunch of scars on the inside.

There was a long pause. “Okay. I hope you know you can call me if you need anything.”

“Sure.” But just because she could didn’t mean that she would. She refused to give Holt any reason to think she was manipulating him...the way Elizabeth once had. And yet, he’d fallen immediately in love with Elizabeth. Fun, spunky, sparkly Elizabeth. Of course, everybody had loved her. But with Sara...Holt hadn’t fallen in love with her. She was the runner-up, second best. A means to an end...the release of sexual frustration.

“Okay, well, if you’re sure...”

“I just said I was. Goodbye, Holt.”

* * *

Toxin grasped at the reins of his temper. That sonofabitch Rochard had practically dragged the older boy out of the school to his sports car, then revved the engine to proclaim his asshole status to the world. The younger boy had run from a cluster of trees out into the road just in time for Rochard to
remember
to take him home too. Poor kid had to squeeze onto his brother’s lap because Rochard hadn’t thought about taking two kids home when he left the house in a two-seater.

Dicks like John Rochard thought they were God’s gift to society, the privileged elite, and then treated everyone else like crap. Kinda like Gloria or Buzz...or his own dad, the devil take his soul. When Toxin had no longer been useful to Gloria, when their bond had been broken in the worst, most painful way possible, she’d kicked him to the curb like yesterday’s trash. Same thing with his dad, only the piece of shit had always made it clear Toxin was a loser and wouldn’t amount to anything. If only the bastard was alive to see him now, he’d see Toxin had made himself useful to society.

He’d bet all of the Rochard millions that John would miss his kids if they were gone. Yeah, Rochard would realize what was truly important then. He would be scared shitless. His heart would be ripped out of his chest and put through a meat grinder. His lungs would freeze up as if he’d never suck in another breath.

But Toxin had gone to great pains to throw the police and Patterson off his trail by leading them to Brady. Risking his freedom for a vendetta that wasn’t part of his original plan would be stupid. He’d have to think long and hard...and maybe use some of Henry’s new batch to aid in the decision-making process.

Ultimately, a hero didn’t turn his back on someone in need. Sara Burns was in need. As were the Rochard kids. Even Theo needed help. And where was the hero from the local news? Dr. Holt Patterson was holed up in his little cubicle, investigating killers who had nothing to do with his own family.

Which left the heroic acts to Toxin. He felt adrenaline flood his system, preparing him for the next step in his mission. A hero never rested for long.

Chapter Thirteen

November

Sara set up the chessboard for their Friday chess game. Theo had continued to open up to her in their time together this semester. Today, she was counting on that hard-won rapport to help her figure out what the heck was wrong with him. He’d been moping around the school all week, barely lifting his head to return her greetings in the halls.

Theo came in and dropped his backpack on the extra chair, then sat at the small table against one wall of her office. Seated across from him, she lined her pawns up in their places, using the activity to hide her concern that he hadn’t come in with his usual hello. Theo echoed her actions with his own pawns, ducking his face from her gaze.

“How was your week?” she asked.

“Okay.”

“And Halloween?”

“All right.”

Time for more probing questions. “What kind of candy did you haul in?”

“Candy bars and sour gummies, lollipops...the usual. Plus a few things like raisins and pencils.” Some of the tension dissipated as he warmed to the subject. “Grandpa weighed it on the kitchen scale. Three pounds.”

Her finger and thumb pinched the head of a pawn and lifted it in her opening move. “Wow.”

His brown eyebrows drew together. “I should have brought you some.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” She leaned forward as if confiding a great secret. “I’m swearing off sugar for a couple of weeks.” She’d decided to go to Acapulco for Thanksgiving break—her first vacation in years, and first time ever alone—and wanted to get bikini-ready. A whole week in the sun, away from heartbreak and confusion. Heaven. “You must have had an awesome costume.”

He shrugged, but she was rewarded with a smile as he moved a knight into play. “I made it myself. I was a zombie.”

“I think I saw you practicing this week.”

“What do you mean?” Theo’s hazel gaze flicked up to meet hers before moving back to the chessboard. He moved his queen into play. She doubted he realized he was setting himself up to lose in three moves. She’d rattled him.

She scooped up his queen with a bishop. Theo didn’t even wince. “You’ve seemed kind of down. With all that candy, I’d expect the opposite,” she teased. Not even a crack of a smile. “So I figure you must have been a zombie-in-training.”

It was his move, but he sat back, ignoring the game. “You won’t tell something if I ask you not to, right?”

She fought for a careful response. “That’s a difficult question to answer. In my position as director, I’m responsible for student safety. If what you tell me relates to that, I might have to step in. I would do everything in my power to keep your confidence, though.”

Theo thought for several long moments, then nodded. “That makes sense.”

“I hope so. And I hope you’ll share whatever’s bothering you. I really am here to help.”

“I know. And Mom told me I could talk to you. She said it would be like talking to her.”

“She did?” A sudden welling of emotion made her skin tingle and her chest tighten.

He nodded. “Before she died. She said you used to be her other half. Her conscience, or something. Sometimes, when I’m worried about something, I dream about her, and it reminds me I should talk to you.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “What about your dad? I think he’d want to help too.”

“He’s got his own things to deal with.”

Sara wondered if Holt had any clue how much his son was trying to protect him. They were so much alike. “Yes, but you’d be number one on his list. You mean a lot to him.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think he realizes that you’re protecting him. I think he’s worried you don’t
want
to talk to him anymore.”

Theo looked surprised. “I just don’t want to add to his troubles.”

She resisted the urge to go around to his side of the table and hug him. “I think you
not
talking to him is troubling him.” Theo seemed to consider this. “So, since you’re here and all, how about talking to me? What’s bothering you this week?”

“I’m worried about Jeremy, who’s worried about his brother. I even started a new story about it in my journal. Mr. R is the villain.”

“Jeremy’s worried about Neil?”

“Yeah. Jeremy says his dad’s been really hard on them this week. Well, mostly he ignores Jeremy, but even more so this week, while he goes after Neil.”

“
Goes after?
” If John was beating Neil, she wouldn’t just report him to the authorities. She’d
go after
him herself. She kept her face impassive as anger bubbled below the surface. “What do you mean by that, Theo?”

“Jeremy says his dad’s been yelling at Neil every night. Neil locks himself in his room, and won’t even open up for Jeremy.”

Poor Neil. And poor Jeremy. But Sara reminded herself she only had one side of the story—and that was hearsay. “Not every parent is perfect. They do their best. But it’s never okay to hurt someone.” She thought of Holt, and how he wanted desperately to be everything for Theo, but he felt he was missing the mark. He was so hard on himself. She had to give him credit for trying, though. Or maybe she could do more than give Holt credit. Maybe she could give him a boost behind the scenes. “You’re pretty lucky to have parents who care about your feelings.”

“Mom was always there for me.”

“But not Dad?”

“Dad tries.” Theo looked at his hands, which were gripped together on the table. “But he’s busy, and I get in the way. And when we are together, I guess I just don’t talk to him as much as he wants me to.”

Unable to resist some gesture of comfort, she touched his wrist until he met her gaze. “He’s not mad about that, Theo. He understands. You know how you feel when Jeremy opens up to you? Like you’re being a good friend?”

“Yeah. He feels better after we talk. Usually.”

“Because you’re listening to him. You’re helping carry his burden. What if I talked to Neil? I wouldn’t tell him who told me anything. In fact, I wouldn’t tell him anything at all about what you’ve shared. I’ve been meaning to check in with him, anyway.” Actually, she’d sent notes to his teachers a couple times this week to send him to the office, but he’d never arrived. She suspected he was avoiding her. Was he ashamed of his SAT scores? They’d actually been pretty good, but nobody was giving him the positive outlook on his future. He could easily get in to most schools, just not the highest caliber ones.

Theo looked hopeful. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course. Neil and Jeremy are my students too. I want to help if I can.”

“Yeah. I think that might help.” Theo leaned forward and studied the board. “Boy, that was a bonehead move, huh? I should pay better attention.”

And just like that, the chess match continued while their chat replayed in her mind. She’d have to wait until Monday to find Neil, unless she wanted to risk connecting with John again by calling their home over the weekend. She hoped Monday would be soon enough.

* * *

Something about the case didn’t fit. More and more things, in fact, didn’t match Holt’s profile of the killer. Brady’s voice, for one. When he’d finally talked, and when Holt was present to hear his claims of innocence, the deep voice didn’t match what Holt remembered about Toxin’s call to the tip hotline. And then there was Brady’s attitude. Confident, but in a hardened criminal kind of way. Not the boastful Toxin who’d contacted Holt twice. Then again, facing life in jail for several murders would probably cause a guy to alter his voice and put an end to the cockiness.

Though Toxin was supposedly in custody, Holt’s doubt had led him to hire a private investigator to keep an eye on Theo—and Sara—from a distance at the school, without Sara’s knowledge.

That gut feeling had been steadily building until it was screaming at him. And so, early Monday morning, Holt drove to the prison where Brady Flaherty—aka Toxin—was being held until trial.

The prisoner was led into the room and seated opposite the table from him. The interview room was sparse. Gray walls. No décor. Just two chairs, a table, Holt, Brady and a uniformed officer who stood guard at the door. Brady sported a crew cut and several tattoos across his arms and neck. He sat and sank into a slouched position, his cuffed hands between his thighs. He projected an outward confidence, adding a defiant tilt of his chin for good measure. But his eyes wouldn’t meet Holt’s. His skin had the pallor of someone who hadn’t seen much sun in weeks, and there were fresh bruises and scrapes on his knuckles. Apparently, Brady wasn’t playing well with others behind bars.

Noah had opted to observe from behind the mirror. He’d already questioned Brady several times, with Holt covertly observing, and it hadn’t resulted in anything. A fresh approach was necessary, so the CPD had given Holt permission to speak to Brady.

“Your trial starts in two weeks and the D.A. intends to prosecute you to the fullest extent of the law.” Holt watched Brady for a long moment, long enough for the guy’s right eye to start twitching. While what he’d said was true, it was also true that the arm of the law didn’t reach as far as Holt and Noah would like. They needed a confession, otherwise the case might be dropped. There was precious little evidence other than the needles and neurotoxins under the bathroom sink in Brady’s apartment, and apparently Brady was notorious for leaving his doors and windows unlocked. Which meant the matchbook that linked him to victim number two and the hate letter that connected him with victim three could have been planted as well. He claimed anybody could have framed him, and that there were plenty of people who would want to.

“Let them try to make these charges stick.” Brady met Holt’s gaze.

Either this guy
was
Toxin and he didn’t think he’d done anything wrong, or he
wasn’t
Toxin and he knew their case was weak. But if he was Toxin, why wasn’t he boasting? The man who’d called the tip hotline and left Holt that letter at Buzz’s murder scene was cocky. Triumphant. He believed he was doing important work. Felt he had a special connection to Holt, an understanding of him that transcended other relationships. Brady didn’t fit the mold.

“You guys can’t break me. There’s nothing to break. I didn’t kill nobody.” Brady’s gaze held Holt’s. “Bring on the jury.”

The guy was telling the truth. He could read it in Brady’s body language. But why would the real Toxin pick Brady Flaherty to frame? Because Brady was related to one of the victims, and connected to at least one of the others?

Holt sat back in his chair. “Okay, Brady. Let’s say I believe you. How did the evidence end up in your apartment?”

“Like I said before, somebody planted that stuff.”

“And who would go to the trouble of doing that?”

Brady lifted his hands, but they fell back in his lap as he remembered they were chained together. “Too many people to count. I haven’t exactly been an angel.”

“Tell me about your relationship with Buzz.”

The guy snorted. “Relationship? He’s my uncle by blood but hasn’t wanted a thing to do with me since Day One. Didn’t like me. Hated me, actually.”

“So you killed him.” Holt had to try one more time.

Brady slanted him an exasperated look. “Like I said, I had nothing to do with it.”

Holt leaned his forearms on the table and gripped his hands together. “So tell me who did. Let’s talk about your family. Why would you go to people like Buzz, someone who supposedly
hated
you, for money?”

He shrugged. “It worked before. Mainly, my beloved family members would pay just to get rid of me. Squeaky wheel, you know? And this time I was desperate. Down to my last two pennies.”

“Did your cousin Gloria hate you?”

His eyebrows drew together. “Not really.”

“She’d have no reason to go after you?”

“No, man.”

“Then why would she think you could kill her father?”

“Shit, is she the one who turned you in my direction?” Brady’s lack of anger told Holt more than words could.

“If I were falsely accused by someone—especially a family member—I’d be furious,” Holt added.

“Yeah, well, I figure she’s had enough to deal with lately. Too much grief can make a person do crazy things.”

“You think Gloria’s crazy?”

“Enough to kill her father? No way. She loved the old asshole, though he was hard as shit on everyone. High and mighty, you know?”

Holt nodded as if he did know.

“I’m not surprised he ticked someone off enough to kill him. But Gloria and me? You’re barking up the wrong family tree.”

“And you have no ideas which tree I should be focusing on?”
Give me something to go on
,
dammit.
Brady had to know Toxin in some way. “Anybody you know who’s obsessed with poisons, knows a lot about needles, was angry at Buzz? Anything? If you give us the right information, it could get you out of here.”

“Don’t you think I know that? My lawyer’s been all over my case to get you some names. The worst I’ve done is not return some bitch’s call after screwing her. Maybe look at their boyfriends and husbands?”

“What about your associates? The ones who get you jobs?” The jobs that involved illegal acts Brady would never admit to.

Brady smiled with false innocence. “All in the past, man. I’m on parole. Or, I
was.
”

“And the people you’ve hurt through those jobs...their families? Someone might be looking for a little taste of revenge.”

“If they did, they wouldn’t bother to frame me. They’d kill me.”

* * *

Neil Rochard had been on Sara’s mind all weekend, but on Monday he wasn’t in school. She steeled her nerves and dialed his mother’s number. She’d try Claire first, before going to John.

“His dad had them this weekend.” Claire’s confusion shifted to worry. “He’s not the best at getting them where they’re supposed to be on time.”

“But Jeremy’s in school, on time.”

“Maybe Neil’s sick. Probably snuck out and went out drinking with his friends again.” Frustration and resignation rang in Claire’s hard tone.

Drinking?
Again?
Sara’s heart sank. This was worse than she’d thought.