Vindicate (Recovered Innocence #1)(68)
There’s something solid and real between Leo and me. I know there’s a word for how I feel about him, but I can’t bring myself to say it, let alone accept it. Not yet. I’ve come to depend on him in a way I can’t depend on anyone else…even Beau. My brother’s in a place both mentally and physically that’s so far from where I am that I wonder if he’ll ever find his way back. His words echo in my head about finding a life for myself. I’m close, so close, to finding that life for both of us.
Chapter 32
Leo
Dad’s right. If we’re talking about a cop murdering Cassandra we’re in way over our heads here. How am I going to protect Cora from a professional? I can’t show it, but I’m scared shitless. This guy has gone to great lengths to stop our investigation. He’s a murderer, for f*ck’s sake. If he finds out we’re onto him, really onto him, there’s no telling what he’ll do. We’re just going to have to lay low until Dad and his attorney friends can work their magic.
I think Mrs. Wheeler’s notebook might have given us even more than I originally thought. The first time the license plate appears in Mrs. Wheeler’s notebook could provide us with the date Cassandra initially called the police about the strange things happening around her apartment building. I don’t think I was far off when I told Cora that I think this whole thing started with that call for help.
The cop who killed her must’ve been the one to respond to it. I’m guessing by his subsequent visits to her apartment that he gave Cassandra his business card to call him directly if there was any more trouble. Just like I called it—Hero Syndrome. The more problems Cassandra had, the more reasons she had to call him. He created her need for him to come to the rescue. According to Mrs. Wheeler’s notebook, he created that need more than ten times in a two-month period. That’s more than once a week.
Cassandra’s phone records would show her calling the cop’s number. That would’ve come out in the investigation. He had to have known that. How did he get around it? A burner phone, maybe? He could’ve written his burner cellphone number on his business card when he gave it to Cassandra. My private line. Special for only you. If you need me I’ll be here in a flash. Call me. Anytime.
I can see it. He thought he was smart using the burner phone. He didn’t count on Mrs. Wheeler’s notebooks. She was smart not to tell him. It probably saved her life. She puts him at Cassandra’s apartment too many times to excuse away. The unidentified hair in Cassandra’s bed must be from him. He lucked out there. They never ran it for a DNA match, but when they do it will put him in her bed. He could claim they had a romantic relationship. Who’s alive to say they didn’t?
It would cause a lot of problems for him though. Especially with the hidden witness interview. At the very least, it could create reasonable doubt for Beau. The cop is another potential suspect who was never interviewed. A suspect who tampered with the case. That alone could cast enough suspicion to reopen the case against Beau.
We’ve got all the pieces. We just need to reveal the final player.
We grab some food at a drive-through restaurant and head for my friend Mike’s place. He was cool to let us stay here for as long as we need to. That need is greater than ever. With his state-of-the-art security system, it’s the safest place we could be.
Cora’s been very quiet since we talked to my dad. I wonder what she’s thinking. I imagine a lot of the same things that have been going through my head. It’s weird to be at a complete standstill. There’s nothing to do but wait. Everyone’s been found who needed to be found. We’ve pulled all the threads we can pull in the case. It’s now up to my dad to do what he did for Maurice Battle—contact the legal group that works on cases like Beau’s. It’s now in the hands of lawyers.
It feels strange to me to be in waiting mode. I can’t imagine what it must be like for Cora. I want to fast-forward to the day Beau gets released from prison, not just for Beau and Cora, but for me too. Because on the day he’s free she’ll be free too. And then maybe, just maybe, she’ll give us a chance.
“How long did it take?” she asks, as we go through the front door of Mike’s place.
I turn off, then reset the security system. “How long did what take?”
“To free Maurice Battle.”
“Longer than you’d think. Too long. Nearly six months.”
This information does nothing to cheer her. It does even less for me. I don’t have six months with Cora. I don’t even have one month.
“That’s not fair.” She’s looking out the window when she says this.
“No. It’s not f*cking fair at all.”
I want to go up behind her and put my arms around her, but I know if I do I won’t be able to stop at just a simple hug. I need more from her than she’s got to give. And I have nothing that she needs anymore. I can feel the lengthening between us. It started in Mrs. Wheeler’s room. Maybe even before that. I don’t know. All I know is that I’m desperately, hopelessly, in love with her. It hurts. No one tells you that.
In the movies it looks so easy. In two hours a couple meets, falls in love, encounters problems, someone makes a grand gesture, then BAM, happily ever after. I don’t have a grand gesture. I don’t have anything she wants or needs. The one thing I had to give her I’ve already given her—the leads and connections to free Beau. It’s so f*cked up that I—of all people—couldn’t give her the only other thing she wanted—sex. What’s wrong with me? Even now I want her so badly I practically vibrate with it. But I know if I touch her I’ll only disappoint her. Again. It’s all just so f*cking f*cked up.