Where the Blame Lies(73)

Josie was able to speak openly about her thoughts on the subject with Zach because not only was he a violent crimes detective, but his own family had had the rug swept out from under them with the death of his little brother. She felt understood by him. Known. And it was yet another gift he gave to her.

They finally got out of bed late in the day, famished and in need of sustenance. They stood at the counter, eating sandwiches, and laughing. Zach put his arm around her shoulders as he took a mouthful, not seeming to be able to stop touching her either. Her heart felt warm with happiness.

Zach’s phone rang and their eyes met, Zach’s face going serious as he took his arm from around her and put his sandwich down. Josie had the sudden feeling that their happy little bubble had just popped. “Hold on,” he said, walking to the table where his phone was sitting. “Jimmy,” he answered after he’d glanced at the number. He sat on the edge of the wood table and despite the notion that the real world had just invaded their happy space, she took the moment to admire him. His body was sculpted and trim. Her eyes ran over his smooth, brown skin, and down to the waistband of his low-slung jeans where she could see the trail of dark hair. Her mouth had been there only minutes ago, and at the memory, her skin flushed. She looked up at Zach’s face to see him watching her closely, his eyes dark. He knew exactly where her mind had gone.

“Yeah,” he said, obviously responding to something Jimmy had said, his gaze drifting from her as worry altered his features.

“Shit,” he muttered, his hand moving over his hair. “Thirteen years? How is that possible?”

A shiver went down her spine and Josie put her sandwich down, gesturing to Zach that she would be right back. She was suddenly freezing, and she was only wearing one of his Tshirts and a pair of underwear. She went into the bedroom and pulled on her jeans, socks, and a sweatshirt and used the bathroom.

When she walked back into the kitchen, Zach was just hanging up the phone. He pressed his lips together, his eyes filled with worry.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Professor Merrick finally handed over a list of a couple names of women he’d been with over the years. Apparently, he can’t remember the names of more than that.” His eyes flitted to her and away. Did he wonder if that hurt her? She was long past caring what Vaughn Merrick thought of her though. She’d accepted the fact that he’d only been using her. More so, she’d come to terms with the fact that she’d let him. Taking responsibility for her role in the relationships in her life that had hurt her had made all the difference. She’d made bad choices. Period.

“And?” she prompted after he drifted away for a moment.

His eyes snapped back to hers and he rubbed at the back of his neck. “The first one on the list moved overseas apparently. She lives there now with her husband and two kids. The second one on the list disappeared without a trace thirteen years ago.”

Josie’s eyes widened. “Disappeared?” she whispered, dread streaming through her. She swallowed, leaning back against the counter. “Do you think she was the victim of Marshall Landish too?”

Zach shook his head. “Couldn’t be. Marshall Landish was eighteen and had just enrolled in the Army. He was in basic training in South Carolina at the time.”

“South Carolina,” she repeated. “Couldn’t he have driven to Ohio on a weekend?”

Zach blew out a breath. “South Carolina is a nine-hour drive from Ohio. And what reason would he have to drive to Cincinnati, abduct a woman, and drive back? He’d never been to Ohio at that point from what we know. He moved there years later to be closer to his sister who had recently relocated to Cincinnati when she got a job at Proctor and Gamble.” He paused. “But if he did drive to Ohio from South Carolina and abduct that woman, however unlikely, what was his connection to her, and to Vaughn Merrick?” He shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Josie chewed at her lip. The abduction—and probable death—of the woman thirteen years before, her own abduction, and the most recent victims were all similar in that they were involved with the professor. That couldn’t be a coincidence. But Zach was right, what was Marshall Landish’s connection to the professor, if any? A sinking feeling made Josie sag against the counter behind her. It was becoming more and more plausible that the man who had abducted Josie hadn’t been Marshall Landish. But her mind still fought against the notion. It had been him. She hadn’t known him well, but she’d recognized his voice—not just his stutter, but his tone, cadence, depth—his smell, his body and the way he’d carried it. “Did he have a twin?” she asked Zach. “Or a brother?”

Zach shook his head. “Neither. Just a sister.”

Josie looked away. “His sister insisted he didn’t do it,” she murmured. “The detectives who originally worked my case questioned her thoroughly. She wanted to talk to me but”—she shook her head—“I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I was afraid I’d recognize him in her and I just . . .” She made a helpless sound. She’d been too traumatized to expose herself to more potential trauma. As it was, she’d felt like a walking black hole.

Zach approached her, taking her in his arms, holding her to him closely. “I understand that. There was no need for you to speak to her.”

She leaned back. “Sometimes I wonder if I would have questioned her too, if maybe . . . if maybe she did know something about my son.” But the detectives had assured Josie that Marshall’s sister didn’t know anything. They’d been convinced and they’d convinced her as well. Whatever Marshall had done with her baby, he hadn’t told a soul. At least not one who had come forward.