Dylan (Bowen Boys, #3)(8)
His cell went off several times, but he didn’t bother looking at it. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, especially Caitlynne. She knew, of course, that the woman…Jack he supposed he could call her now… was at his house, and she was more than likely telling him to turn her in. He had no intentions of doing that, and he didn’t want to argue with her about it.
Four hours later he was pulling into his drive. There were no cruisers in the drive, and he didn’t get tackled when he walked up to the house. The stuff from the room could wait until tomorrow or later. He needed to check on the girl.
She hadn’t been found, nor had she moved. Dylan sat next to her bed again and took her hand. She was cold. He rubbed her hand to give it some warmth.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with you. You barge into my life, bleeding on my deck, telling me that you don’t remember anything. Now I hear that you’ve murdered a child. The adults…I started to say that I could tolerate them, but I can’t stand the thought that you’ve killed. And a child, no less.” When her hand was warmer, he put it under the blanket. “And maybe my family is right. Maybe there is an explanation for all this. I just hope to Christ you can remember it when you wake up.”
Chapter Three
Caitlynne hung up the phone and stared at it. The man was lying. She had no idea why, but there was no doubt that he was. And even though she knew that he’d lied about several things, telling her that he’d found Jack’s finger prints all over the house was the kicker. She looked up when Marshall walked in.
“You’ve heard, no doubt. What kind of plans do you have to get your family here? I’m sure you don’t want them there with a killer on the loose.” He sat down across from her as he continued. “I can have a car pick them up and bring them here, or we can—”
“She didn’t do it,” she said. Marshall raised an eyebrow. “For whatever reason, and I can think of plenty right now, I know she didn’t kill the Clements.”
Marshall leaned back in the chair. “Okay. So you know something. Something about this case that no one else…. How many of your family members know?”
“All of them. Not that she didn’t do it, but that…. Maybe you should just take it that she didn’t do it.” His bark of laughter made her think he wasn’t going to let it go.
“No, I don’t think so. You tell me what you know, and I’ll give you what I have. And maybe between the two of us we can keep your family out of prison. And you know me well enough to know that I’m true to my word.” She nodded. “Okay, let’s start over, and no bullshit this time. You know something. Spill it.”
She reached behind her, pulled out two bottles of water, and handed him one. “She’s Dylan’s mate. He found her five days ago when she ended up on his deck bleeding to death. He contacted Khan and Walker. I didn’t come along until they had already operated on her. By then Dylan had figured out who she was to him, and the rest have come together to protect her. I doubt very much the girl is going to be happy with all this macho shit they tend to toss around like it’s their job. But there’s more.”
“So you know, and I’m sure you do, it is their job. It’s just too bad that the females in their lives are just as macho.” He moved to her couch, and she followed him. “What else is there? I take it you’ve spoken to the police?”
“Yes, and they referred me back to their source, the one that took over the crime scene almost as soon as the police got there. I just spoke to him.” She shifted on the couch and took a deep breath. “Kirby Mann told me that he had to take the case, as Clements was his best friend.”
“I didn’t know they were that close, but I knew that they were working together on a few things. I think he is helping him with the trial for a good friend, Jerry Small. Did you ask the girl what she was doing there? Could that be why she killed him?” She shook her head. “Are you telling me that she didn’t kill him for that reason, or that she didn’t kill him at all?”
“She might have, for all I know. But Mann told me that her fingerprints were all over the house. And that they found a gun at the scene.” Marshall cocked his head questionably. “He didn’t mention any blood, and this girl had to have been shot while there. Walker dug out several bullets that match that of a service revolver. If Mann had only just showed up on scene, how did two of his men get killed? Then there’s the fact that Crosby doesn’t have any fingerprints. They’d been burned off some time ago.”
Marshall opened his mouth and closed it several times before he simply stared at her. She knew he was thinking about the pain she’d had to endure to have that done. She had thought about it too. Acid burns were horrific, and to have done it to all your fingers would have been horrendous.
“You say this like you know. Why did you try to do a search with her prints? What did she say when someone asked her what had happened? And you said two of his men? I thought there was only one shot.”
She nodded. “He slipped up. I don’t think he even noticed, but I did. He’s been telling everyone that’ll listen that she killed one of his men, but when I asked him, he gave me one name, then called him another later in our conversation. I just checked around, and the man turned up in the morgue without paperwork. And I haven’t done any checks yet because I need to figure out Mann’s angle, but I don’t think he worked for me.”