Vindicate (Recovered Innocence #1)(9)
“What did Cassandra do after she and Beau broke up?” I have to get her mind back on the case. That’s the only way I’m going to win with her. “Did she have a job?”
“She worked at a clothes store in the mall. But that was years ago. I doubt anyone would still be working there who knew Cassandra.”
“We can try.”
“Yeah, okay. I guess.”
“I think I should talk to Beau. Alone.”
“He doesn’t talk about Cassandra.”
“Not to you, but he might talk to me.”
She thinks this over with flickers of hurt flashing across her features like lightning across the sky. It had to have occurred to her that her brother wouldn’t want to talk about his love life with his little sister. I sure as hell wouldn’t. I don’t want my sisters to know anything about sex, especially since the youngest one just got her first boyfriend.
“Maybe,” she relents. “But you have to tell me what he says.”
“I can’t make that promise.”
“Why the hell not?”
“He’s not going to confide in me if he thinks I’ll take everything he says straight to you.”
“If you can get him to talk.”
“Challenge accepted.”
“This isn’t a game. This is my brother’s life.”
And hers too. Both siblings have a lot at stake here. Neither one of them has had a life since Beau’s conviction. Even though Beau’s the one in prison, Cora built and maintains a wall that blocks her off from the rest of the world. Beau’s the convict, but they’re both doing time.
“We’re going to figure this out,” I say, wanting more than anything to touch her. “Trust me.”
She doesn’t really have a choice, but I feel like I have to ask for her trust or she won’t completely give it. I have to want it and I have to show her I want and deserve it.
She lets out a laugh like she can’t believe what she’s about to say. I hold my breath because I don’t think I’ll be able to either.
“Okay.” She doesn’t add the part about her not having any other choice but to trust me.
I won’t forget that.
Chapter 5
Cora
Leo wants more than my trust. He wants to invade parts of my life where no one’s ever been. I’ve been alone with my notes and my reports and my never-wavering faith in my brother. But now he’s here, taking up too much space in the room and asking questions that make me look at my brother’s case the way someone who hasn’t lived it and breathed it would. I can see the holes. In just a few short hours Leo exposed the cracks in the case that make Beau look guilty.
I know Beau’s been hiding something from me and everyone else, including his attorney. It’s one of the reasons he doesn’t want me investigating his case. I get so angry with him sometimes. He sits across from me at that dirty, scarred table, looks me right in the face, and talks about stupid shit instead of giving up his secrets. It’s the talking but not saying anything that frustrates the hell out of me. It’s the beatings he’d rather take, the obliteration of our family, and the blithe acceptance of his fate that I can’t stand. It jolts me out of a sound sleep. It keeps me awake at night. And it rides my shoulders all day.
And now Leo thinks he can get my brother to open up and fill in those gaps? As if one quick trip out to the prison will clear everything up. I’ve got five and a half years of prison visits behind me and not a goddamned thing to show for it. But Leo is going to fix all that. Right.
He asks me to trust him and the stupid, messed-up thing is—I do.
He’s been flipping the pages of my notebook back and forth for nearly an hour now, taking notes. Every once in a while he asks a question or asks me to find a report for him. So far I’ve been able to answer every question except why Beau and Cassandra broke up and why—after months apart—he went to her apartment the night before she was murdered.
“Who found Cassandra’s body?” Leo asks.
He’s been poring over the paperwork on the table for hours and it’s making me twitchy. I want to get out there and do something.
“Her neighbor across the hall. They were supposed to go to a yoga class after work.” I flip through the binder of copies of the police reports I got from Leo’s attorney until I find the right page. “Here.” I point to the entry by an Officer Hannigan. “Zelda Marks. She said she knocked on Cassandra’s door and got no answer. So she called. Again no answer. Cassandra’s car was parked on the street, so she knew Cassandra was home. Zelda used the key Cassandra gave her to feed her cat when she went on vacation and found Cassandra’s body in the bedroom tied to the bed.” I grab a folder and open it. “Here’s the 9-1-1 transcript of Zelda’s phone call at six-thirty-two p.m.”
The transcript doesn’t even come close to the agony in the recording. The horror in Zelda’s voice of finding her friend’s naked, bound body echoed around the courtroom as they played the recording during Beau’s trial, while Zelda broke down on the stand, reliving that moment.
“I have a recording of the call.” I pull a disc from a sleeve between the pages and hand it to him.
“Hang on.” He leaves and comes back in the room with a CD player.