LINKED (The Bening Files Book 1) Page 18

  It had seemed like a good enough reason almost five hours ago when she’d hurriedly told Jordan something had come up and left the house.

  He hadn’t given her the third degree, but she could tell from the expression on his face that he knew she wasn’t giving him the complete truth either. Explaining that she would miss the exhumation of Cassidy’s remains hadn’t made him beg her to change her mind.

  Instead, she’d watched confusion cover his face and then resigned acceptance as if he’d expected that outcome all along. As if he anticipated that she wouldn’t stand by him for the duration. The gap they were working to close, opened wide in two seconds.

  It hadn’t been easy for him to ask in the first place.

  You’re such an idiot. How hard would it have been to tell him everything? Part of her didn't want to witness his reaction. Would he be upset that she hadn't done anything to help save his mother? Or her uncle? Or him?

  At least he would have known he wasn't alone in his grief. Instead, she'd remained silent. Then. Earlier this morning. When she could have told him her plans. Included him.

  He wouldn’t have come. How could he choose between overseeing his mother’s exhumation and talking to the man who’d put her there, according to a judge and jury?

  She rushed back to her rental car and jammed the key into the ignition. Whatever she needed to say to Matthew would come to her. Sooner or later. With any luck, it would shed light on Cassidy’s death and bring her connection to Emily Gaidies to the surface.

  “Hey, Kenna.” A small, dark head popped into the sights of her rear view mirror.

  Her heart leapt into her throat and she managed to hold back a scream. “Shawn. Dillon. What are you doing?”

  He leaned between the two front seats, a grin stretching across his face. “Are you surprised?”

  “You scared the cr—you scared me. How did you get in here?”

  He climbed over the center console and positioned himself in the front passenger seat. “I found your keys and unlocked the doors, then put them back so you wouldn’t notice. Pretty smart, huh?”

  “You’ve been in my backseat since I left Jordan’s house?”

  He nodded with exuberance, pride evident in his brown eyes. “I wanted to surprise you, but you took forever and I got sleepy. I hid right there.” He pointed to the floor space behind her seat.

  Thank God, it hadn’t been too hot out. McKenna reached for her phone. The battery had gone dead. Crap. She found her charger and plugged it in. “You’re dad doesn’t know where you are, does he?”

  His smile faded. “I guess not.”

  “Don’t you think he’ll be worried?”

  “I guess so.” His eyebrows came down over eyes filling with worry. “Don’t call him. He’ll be mad.”

  “Sorry, kiddo, no can do. He’ll be even more upset if we don’t call him.”

  “What if we just went home now? He might not even know I’m gone.” His little boy face held so much hope it made her want to accept his offer.

  “We’re a little too far from home to accomplish that, buddy.”

  “Even if you drove really fast?”

  “Yeah.”

  The hope in his eyes diminished and he slumped down in his seat, his left Spiderman sneaker kicking up toward the glove box.

  The screen on her phone illuminated as it came back to life. It buzzed, signaling missed messages. She ignored them and dialed Rupert’s number.

  It barely rang once before he answered. “Please, tell me you’ve seen Shawn.”

  “He stole away in my car. I didn’t realize it until a few moments ago or I would’ve called sooner.”

  “Thank God.” He gave a deep sigh. “He’s grounded.” His voice rose a notch. He sounded like an angry Sally Field screaming at Robin Williams in Mrs. Doubtfire. “For the rest of his life.”

  “Good plan.”

  “What was he thinking?”

  “I’m not sure a lot of thought went into it.”

  “Where are you?” His voice became normal. “I’ll come get him.”

  “I’m in Virginia.”

  “Virginia?” He didn’t let her respond. “How do you not notice a seven-year-old in the car with you?”

  “He was hiding behind my seat. And then he fell asleep.”

  “Really?” Sarcasm laced his words. “How are you even still employed with the FBI?”

  For Shawn’s sake, she tried to keep her voice even. “Don’t you think this is a little old?”

  “A seven-year-old surprised you.” A humorless laugh came across the waves.

  Anger clawed at her chest. She could point out all the times Rupert had been surprised by the child, whose favorite game was hide-and-seek. She shook her head. “Whatever your problem is, please, get over it. Shawn’s here and safe. I’ll bring him home as soon as I get back into town.”

  “Fine. Let me talk to him. Please.”

  She gave Shawn the best sympathetic, yet stern look she could muster before she gave him the phone.

  “Hi, dad.” A pause. “Yes, sir. No, sir. I’m sorry.” A sniff. “I know it was wrong. I just wanted to be with Kenna.”

  Tears filled Shawn’s eyes and spill over his cheeks. He ran a hand across his face. “Okay.” Hurt laced the two-syllable word. “Bye.” He handed the phone to her. “D-dad wants to talk to you.”

  “Are we all good, now?” She backed out of her parking spot and got back on the highway.

  He was quiet a moment. “Sorry about this mess.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “You're not headed anywhere dangerous today, are you?”

  “No.” That depended on the definition.

  “Case related?” His voice softened.

  “I can't tell you that, Rupert.”

  Silence. She heard the jingle of keys and then an engine starting in the background. “Don’t baby him, today. He needs to grow up and be responsible for his actions.”

  “He’s seven. He’s still learning.”

  “Do you have any kids, McKenna?” Before she could say anything, he went on. “No. So, don’t try to tell me how to raise mine. Just get my son back here as quickly as possible.” Then he hung up.

  She glanced at the phone as if she imagined the whole thing.

  Okay.

  Shawn stared out the passenger side window. Every once in a while he would rub his arm across his face.

  If she had ended her relationship with Rupert earlier on, she might not be sitting here with his heartbroken son who desperately wanted someone to become the mother figure he needed.

  This boy’s anguish over that fact was her fault. Six months into the relationship, she’d known it wouldn’t work, but she ignored her gut and became ingrained in their routine. When she had time, they went out as a threesome. Platonic friendship started to describe them, so much so, that his marriage proposal had blindsided her.

  Shawn appeared to have stopped crying, but he wouldn’t look in her direction.

  Screw Rupert and his stupid rules. “Your dad loves you, kiddo.”

  Another loud sniff.

  “Sometimes grown-ups forget to act the way they should because they get scared for the people they love.”

  “You don’t.” His voice was small. “Get scared, I mean.”

  “Yeah, I do.” She reached over and ruffled his hair. “Remember my friend, Jordan?”

  He wiped an arm across his nose and nodded.

  “When we were younger, he ran away and didn’t tell anyone where he was going.”

  “Not-ah.”

  McKenna nodded. “I was worried about him and scared for him. Those feelings turned into anger, so that when he did come back I wasn’t very nice to him. Your dad got scared when he didn’t know where you were. And because he loves you, that fact made him mad and act kind of like a big kid.”

  A hint of a smile lit the corner of his lips.

  “Hang in there, kiddo, it’s going to be okay.”

  She hoped.
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  ###

  “We’ll get the investigation started today,” Robinson said.

  Even with the dirt surrounding Cassidy Bening’s grave, the cemetery crew near the excavator and the Crime Scene Unit hovering over the empty coffin, Jordan’s thoughts centered on McKenna. He knew she was safe, in Virginia, and had Rupert’s son with her. If he had asked her to stay, she might have, but he couldn’t keep her glued to his side any more than he could demand she not work on their current case.

  Maybe Robinson was right and a change of location would help keep her out of harm's way.

  It would keep her away from him.

  A tight pinch settled near his heart. He couldn’t—wouldn’t leave her again. If her safety required a change of scenery for one of them, she’d have to be the one to walk away. He couldn’t do it. One day in his house and he was already losing the battle as if he were a teenager all over again.

  McKenna was like that. One smile combined all the mega-wattage from the sun. One laugh could chase away the darkest gloom. One touch would have made him throw caution to the wind back then. Same as now.

  In too deep.

  Again, he didn’t know where he stood with her. Where, they stood. A younger McKenna, pre-murder trial, would have confided in him. She would have trusted him implicitly.

  He couldn’t even be upset that she hadn’t been honest with him, because, before last night, he’d done the same to her. He’d lumped her in with the people-who-wouldn’t-understand group and called it that.

  The truth filled him with shame and regret, both emotions warring for his attention.

  “This is my jurisdiction, Agent Robinson.” Amanda’s stern voice brought him back to the present. She stood in front of Robinson, her pointer finger dangerously close to coming into contact with Robinson’s chest. “This isn’t a federal case, and it’s not going to become one. So get your carcass off my crime scene.”

  Robinson pressed his lips together. “You wouldn’t even know squat about this if it hadn’t been for me.” His voice was low.

  Amanda backed up a step. “CMPD appreciates the tip. You’ve done your civic duty. Now scram.”

  “Forget the power play, Nettles. It’s not going to work.”

  Her face remained blank, but something feral lingered in her eyes. “Don’t. Push. Me. I can have you removed from my scene, badge or not.”

  “You’re blowing this way out of proportion.”

  A few of the techs glanced in their direction and began whispering. Neither Amanda nor Robinson seemed to notice. This was new.

  Before Amanda could knock Robinson into the next century with a verbal blast, Jordan stepped in. “Wrap it up, kids.”

  Amanda turned toward Jordan, a look of pure disgust settling on her face. “You.” She punctuated the word with her pointer finger again. “You better tell McKenna what’s going on. Every last word. Or I’ll tell her myself.”

  “You’re psychotic, you know that, Nettles?” Robinson said.

  “No.” Jordan shot him a look. “She’s right.”

  That took some of the wind from her sails. He grabbed her arm and led her a little distance away from where Robinson now stood with one hand to the back of his neck. “Care to tell me what’s going on, Amanda?”

  She paced a few feet away, then came back, her arms across her chest and jaw set tight. “She was hysterical, the day your mother died.”

  “Who?”

  “McKenna.” She shot him a where-have-you-been look. “Who else?”

  He had a hard time picturing that. Sad and upset, maybe, but not hysterical. The two didn’t go together.

  “My parents were out of town for the day and I was bored out my mind watching Carrie. I get up to find a snack and McKenna’s standing behind the couch, in the doorway to the living room, like she was straight out of the movie. Her arms were full of scrapes and fresh blood. Her hair plastered to her face.

  “She didn’t say anything. I didn’t say anything. The movie kept playing. It was near the end where Carrie gets a pig’s blood bath at the prom. McKenna throws up on my living room floor.”

  “Geez.” Jordan ran a hand across his face, his stomach heaving at the thought.

  “She wouldn’t tell me what happened, so I shoved her into the shower and cleaned up the mess. I didn’t know if I should call 9-1-1 or her parents. I panicked. All these terrible thoughts ran through my head. Had she been raped? Did someone try to kidnap her? What had happened to my best friend to make her incoherent?”

  His stomach twisted more. “Did she tell you?”

  “She refused. So, I stole some of my father’s oldest port and forced her to drink three or four shots. Before she passed out, she made me promise not to tell anyone that she’d been at your house. That she watched you and Matthew try to save your mom. That she ran instead of helping.” Amanda cleared her throat. “When she woke up in the morning, it was as if nothing had happened. And, as promised, we didn’t talk about it.”

  Wow. “I-I don’t know what to say.” It had taken him years to move past that day and he’d gone through counseling to achieve that end.

  “Just promise you’ll tell her everything, including today’s findings.”

  “We talked last night.” He had to be the biggest jerk to walk the face of the planet. He’d been so deep in his own guilt and grief he hadn’t seen any of the signs.

  She never tried to make him talk about it. At the time, he welcomed the reprieve. He assumed she understood his feelings on the matter. Instead, she’d merely been hiding hers. “I didn’t keep this from her. Not on purpose.”

  “I’m sure you had your reasons.”

  Silence reigned for a moment. The wind kicked up around them. “You…okay?”

  “Perfect.” Her tone didn’t invite further inquiry.

  “Okay.” He stared to turn away, but stopped. “I guess I'm not the only one with a few secrets.”

  She shook her head. “No. It just proves that you need each other. You always have.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Shawn sat in a metal chair in the corner, playing a game of snake on McKenna’s cell phone and listening to music on a cheap CD player she purchased at Wal-Mart with his input.

  She had explained to him that they wouldn’t be here long and he needed to be extra good and keep himself occupied for a little while. After the morning’s events, she didn’t think that would be a problem.

  She’d showed her credentials, signed into the visitors log and submitted to a search before the guard led her here. To the smallest interview room with a table and a few chairs. Bars on the only window in the room blocked some of the outside light. Fluorescents hung overhead, making the room over bright with man-made light. Matthew wasn’t present yet and she still hadn’t decided how to start their conversation.

  Old guilt that had started resurfacing earlier in the day, took firm root in her gut. If she’d spoken up about what she saw that day, would Matthew still be here? Bars keeping him from the life he deserved. She ran a hand through her hair and stood.

  McKenna glanced at the copy of the visitor's log she’d requested. Two pages held ten years worth of visitations. Her mom and dad had come several times within the first three years. Aunt Candace’s name appeared yearly on Matthew’s birthday. The only other name she recognized was the last entry. Garrett Birmingham had signed in nearly two weeks ago.

  Before she could speculate on that, the door leading to the main part of the prison opened and Matthew, dressed in an orange jumper with ankle and wrist shackles, walked through. Shawn looked up, from where he sat in the corner. Big eyes watched Matthew and then flicked to McKenna. She shook her head and he went back to his game.

  Matthew’s movements were slow and jerky as he made his way to the table. He didn’t make eye contact as he sat on the chair in front of her.

  The burly guard inserted his key into one of the cuffs and then the other, freeing both of his hands, but not his legs. McKenna wanted to rip the keys from h
im and remove all the metal herself.

  “I’m sure you know how this works. Just knock on that door.” Burly Guard pointed to the cold metal through which she had entered earlier. “When you’re ready, we’ll take it from there.” Then he exited the room, the door shutting with a final thud behind him.

  Matthew didn’t look up.

  She wished he would say something. His hair had more flecks of gray than she remembered and there were scars on the hands he had folded in front of him. She could hear the gentle tap of the sole of his shoe on the hard concrete.

  Tiny pinpricks of pain stung the backs of her eyelids.

  The seventeen-year-old inside of her wanted to scream and throw a hissy fit to get his attention. The twenty-seven-year-old that she was, rushed in to save the day.

  “I thought I’d know what to say when I got here.”

  He looked up then, his face full of added lines, the smile she’d grown accustomed to as a kid, nonexistent. “Was it good or bad?” His voice, at least, was the same low timber it had always been.

  “I’m not sure. Neither, I guess.”

  “This might be easier if you didn’t pace.” He leaned back in his chair.

  Oh. She stopped at the edge of the table, unaware she'd even been doing it.

  “Maybe try sitting down.”

  She did.

  “So, what's with the kid?” Matthew’s eyes flicked to the spot Shawn sat, still engrossed in his game.

  “Long story. He's my friend’s son.”

  Matthew shrugged. “Isn’t Noah getting married today?”

  “At seven.”

  “Your mom told me you’re working with the FBI now. That’s great. Dream come true, huh?”

  “I guess it is.” She examined her cuticles. Deafening silence prevailed for a few minutes. The sharp scent of cold metal assaulted her nostrils. The tap of his shoe stopped a moment, then started in again. “Jordan doesn’t believe you killed her.” He didn’t ask the next obvious question, so she answered it for him. “I know you didn’t.”

  He leaned forward. “So you guys are still like two peas in a pod? He didn’t mention that in his letter.”