Keep Her Safe(83)

The envelope in my hand feels like a brick. Is this truly it? Is this the tale of my father’s supposed fall from saint to criminal?

The report that’s full of lies?

“Why are you giving this to me?”

“Because you won’t get it any other way. And after what you’ve been through, especially with your mother”—pity flashes across his face—“you deserve to see it. And because this case isn’t going to be easy to solve. I need all the help I can get. So take a read. See if anything jumps out at you.”

I slide the stack of papers out and see my dad’s name across the top. A strange feeling sweeps through me. “So you are investigating my dad’s death.” Klein hasn’t actually admitted it yet.

“Yes, ma’am. We’ll be in touch soon,” he drawls in a fake Texas twang. The two FBI agents stroll away, no one around us the wiser.

“Gracie, I—”

“When are you going to stop lying to me, Noah?” My voice cracks on his name, which only makes me more upset with him.

“I didn’t lie! I just . . . Klein blindsided me in Tucson. He played that message and . . . hearing her voice brought me right back to that fucking horrible night.” Noah swallows hard. “And then he basically accused me of killing her.”

Mixed in with my anger is unexpected sympathy. “Is that why you punched him?” It would probably take accusing Noah of murdering his own mother for his temper to erupt like that.

Noah nods. “I wanted to talk to Maxwell and Silas first, and I knew you wouldn’t be willing to wait. I’m sorry.” He settles those earnest eyes on me.

I’m forced to turn away from them before my anger melts. He’s right; I wouldn’t have been. I would have demanded we talk to Klein right away. Because why shouldn’t we? “And let me guess: your uncle told you not to tell the FBI anything?”

He chews his bottom lip, delaying an answer. Giving me the answer I need. “It’s all a moot point, now that you’ve told Klein everything.”

“You’re right, and I’m glad I did, because I have this police report and the FBI on my side, and I’m going to clear my dad’s name. Something you obviously don’t care that much about doing. But it’s all going to come out eventually.” I jump off the ledge and march in the direction of the parking lot, hugging the report to my chest.

Everyone keeps saying that this was an open-and-shut case. But there has to be something in these pages. Something that, if you knew the whole story—or at least what we now know about my dad and Mantis—would let you see it for what it actually is: proof of my father’s innocence.





CHAPTER 38


Noah

“Gracie, I’m so—”

“Don’t.” Her tone is sharp. A warning.

I try another angle. “That report looks long. I’ll help you go through it.”

“So you can figure out how to sabotage the investigation?” she hisses, her eyes glued to the pages within her grip.

“I’m not—”

“Noah! Just . . .” She shakes her head, her rage filling my SUV with palpable tension. “Just don’t.”

I press my lips firmly together. Boy, does she have a temper to rival anyone’s, and she is fucking pissed with me. I can’t blame her. There’s no point saying another word, not until she calms down.

If she ever calms down.

We’re silent as we drive along a side street, minutes away from my house, my mind caught in inappropriate ways to beg for her forgiveness—so not the right time to be thinking about that—when the wail of a police siren sounds behind us.

“Are you speeding?” Gracie frowns at my odometer, forgetting her anger for the moment.

I check my dash. “No.” That’s usually what I get pulled over for, and I’ve been pulled over a few times over the years. They caught me on a rolling stop in a school zone once, too. Royally chewed me out for that. Since then, I wait an extra two beats at stop signs, so that’s not the reason either.

“Will they let you off? You know, because of your mom?”

“I guess we’ll see.” I’ve never name-dropped; I’ve never needed to. The APD somehow always put two and two together and let me off with a warning. Except for that one guy, who either didn’t clue in or didn’t care and wrote me a ticket. Mom made that one go away, though she did it with a heavy warning that it would be the first and last time she stepped in.

Every single time I’ve seen those bright blue lights flashing in my rearview mirror, I’ve known exactly why.

This time around, though, I don’t have a clue what I’ve done. All I do know is that no one’s going to fix any tickets for me.

With a sigh, I pull over. “Maybe my taillight is busted.” Plausible, and yet I can’t help the unease that’s sliding down my spine.

I feel Gracie’s worried eyes burning a hole into the side of my face as I quietly watch the unmarked cruiser coast up behind me, the blare of the lights bright even in the midday sun.

“Don’t say anything . . . about anything. Please.”

“Don’t worry about that,” she mutters. I get the impression Gracie generally doesn’t like dealing with the police.