Twisted by Hannah Jayne(63)

“He was some young buck cop trying to make a name for hisself.”

“Detective Schuster.”

“That’s the guy! Schuster.”

Bex closed her eyes. “He framed you.”

“He killed those women, Bethy. I didn’t know it at the time, not really. But when my DNA started turning up—I knew it wasn’t right. I wasn’t there, Bethy. I wouldn’t have hurt those women. I wouldn’t do that. This Schuster guy, he’s sick. I had to find you before you disappeared into the system because I was afraid he would be able to track you down and, and maybe”—he looked away, squinting his eyes at the dark ocean in front of them—“he might try to do to you what he did to those poor girls. I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t.”

“He did find me.” Bex’s voice was a barely audible whisper. “He wanted me to find you, to draw you out.”

Her father’s profile was sharp in the low light.

Bex went on. “So you risked coming out… You did all this…for me?”

He pumped his head. “I’d do it again for you, Bethy girl. I’d do anything to keep you safe.”

Bex felt herself teetering. Could Detective Schuster really be responsible for the murders, framing her father all those years? When her father reached out and squeezed her hand, Bex felt herself falling over the edge. It made sense. Detective Schuster had handled all the evidence in her father’s case. The eyewitness reports were all people that Schuster had tracked down. The murders all happened within the Research Triangle, which was her father’s trucking territory—and wouldn’t be that far for a rookie cop to travel. She thought of the detective in his leather jacket, the way his lip curled downward and his nostrils flared each time he talked about Bex’s father.

Then she thought of Dr. Gold.

“Dad, did you know Dr. Gold?”

He frowned, his fingers going up to pinch his chin. “Dr. Gold?”

“She was a psychiatrist.”

He wagged his head slowly. “No, Bethy, I can’t say that I do.”

Bex remembered the first time her child advocate had steered her toward Dr. Gold’s office. Detective Schuster had been there, his eyes grazing over her as she was ushered through the door.

Is that how Schuster found her?

“Bethy, I don’t know—”

“The necklaces and the jewelry,” Bex said quickly, shaking her dad’s hand from hers. “How did you get the necklaces?”

He shrugged. “Different ways. The ring that I gave you? I found it in my truck. I’d give ladies a ride from time to time, hitchhikers, you know? I thought one of them must’a dropped it, and I thought it’d be something that you like. A couple of the necklaces and stuff I just picked up here and there, found ’em when I was on my route, but now I know that Schuster must have planted them there for me to find.”

Bex bit her bottom lip. “So he was framing you all along?”

Her father held out his hands, palms up. “I don’t know about that. I just know that I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I was the type of guy they were looking for. They thought the person who did that must have been nomadic, you know, on the road a lot? Well, I was. The guy would have been big and pretty athletic, and they supposed that he didn’t have a lot of connections keeping him in one place—like he was probably not married. That’s me too. I think I just fit and this Schuster guy jumped at the chance to get himself off the hook and look like a big hero at the same time.”

Her father shook his head, eyes downcast. Even in just the sliver of moonlight streaking in through the window Bex could see how tired he looked, how downtrodden—like a man who knew he never had a chance.

“I couldn’t fight him, Bethy. I just couldn’t.”

Bex scooched closer, for the first time in ten years feeling her father’s warmth beside her, feeling the smooth pull of his arms around her. She breathed him in, his soap and seawater smell, something she didn’t remember but was already starting to love.

“We could end this, Dad. I could help you and then”—she sniffed, tearing up again—“and then we could really be a family.”

He rested his chin on Bex’s head, squeezing her tightly. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted, Bethy. You and me to be together as a family.” He pulled away, a small, wistful smile on his face.

“Detective Schuster came here, you know. He came to my house. How did you find me, Dad? How did you find me here?”

“So you’ve seen him.”

“Yeah.”

“You got a cell phone on ya?”

Bex nodded, showing it. Her father took it, popped the little compartment open, and took out the SIM card. “He’s probably tracking you with this.”

“No.” Bex shook her head, guilt crashing over her again. She wouldn’t lead Schuster to her father a second time. “I don’t think so.” She pushed the SIM card back in and showed her father as she turned off all location markers.

Her father looked pained, his shoulders slumping. “I can’t stay around here, Bethy. They’re going to find me.”

“No they won’t. I’ll hide you.”

He shook his head. “I gotta move on.”