26. Carter
Chapter 26
Carter
T he drive was like a descent into madness, each mile marker another nail in the coffin of my restraint. It blurred past me, a kaleidoscope of neon lights and shadows that twisted in my mind like the memories I’d tried to forget.
My knuckles whitened around the steering wheel, the leather creaking under the pressure. The question hammered in my skull, relentless, like a crow pecking at the remnants of my sanity: when did it start?
Rage boiled beneath my skin, a toxic brew sending perspiration across my brow .
Confrontation was inevitable.
The rational side of me, the one trained to dissect bodies and uncover truths, whispered caution and begged for reason. But the other side, the side that had watched too many good people die, that had seen justice twisted into something unrecognizable, that side wanted to tear into him with the same cold precision I used on the autopsy table.
The headlights cut through the gloom, illuminating the road ahead.
By the time I pulled up to the house, dawn was a suggestion on the horizon, a pale light that did little to warm the chill in my bones. I sat and stared at the front door, the engine ticking as it cooled, my pulse drumming in my ears like a war cry. I was on the edge, teetering between doing the right thing and giving in to the sinister impulses that had been festering since I made the connection.
The truth was a beast in my chest, clawing to get out. It wasn’t just about Amber anymore—it was about June, the woman who trusted me and shared her life with me.
And the man behind that door held the answers.
I stepped out of the car, the early morning air biting against my skin, sharp as the blade twisting in my gut. Each step toward the door was heavy and deliberate, as if I walked into a tomb, or worse, into the truth I wasn’t ready to face.
But I had to know.
I had to make him talk.
The beast inside me demanded it.
And God help James if he didn’t.
I knocked, the sound echoing, each rap a deliberate call to the reckoning.
Susan opened the door, her eyes tired but alert and dressed as though she were on her way out the door. The fresh aroma of coffee drifted from inside, warm and comforting, working to ease the tension in my chest. “Carter, what a pleasant surprise.” She stepped aside, letting me in. “I didn’t expect to see you here. And so early. You must be exhausted working all night. We were just having coffee. Would you like some?”
I stepped inside, glancing down at my scrubs and jacket, the warmth of the house a sharp contrast to the coldness in my veins. James sat rigid at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. Deep lines etched his aging face.
“Actually, I was here to speak with James.”
His eyes narrowed, the mug pausing halfway to his mouth.
“Oh, sounds serious.”
James set the mug down and stood with a grunt.
“Would you like a cup of coffee?” Susan pulled a mug from the cupboard and poured me a steaming mug without waiting for an answer.
“Thank you, I really shouldn’t. I’ve been up all night.”
She fiddled with the handle on her mug. “I guess that would make sense since you’re working the night shift.”
“It’s temporary until we get caught up.”
Her eyes widened. “You’ve had that many deaths?” She leaned in. “Do we have a bad crime rate here? ”
I shook my head. “Nothing like that. Just some technical glitches that set us back.”
“Oh. I see.”
James walked out of the kitchen and glanced back at me. “We can talk in the spare room.”
“Thanks for the coffee.” I left the mug on the table and followed him into the room with a reading area, a chair in the corner, and an old pillow perched on top.
I shut the door as he sat in the chair, his arms stretched out on the flat wooden armrests.
Tension hung thick in the air, my heart banging against my ribcage like a prisoner seeking freedom.
“There’s no easy way to start this, so let’s jump right in.” I pulled the photograph from my inside jacket pocket and let it fall into his lap, the glossy surface faded with age. Amber’s innocent face stared at him, her smile frozen in time, mocking the truth. “When did it start?”
He stared down at the photo in his lap, his nose scrunched and lips curled into a sneer. “Is this what you wanted to talk about?”
I sat in the bay window seat, the dense canopy of trees hiding the early morning light, and clamped my hands between my knees. “At first, I chalked it up to poor memory, maybe a lie that slipped through the cracks. But then June kept talking, giving me more details, and I realized it went deeper than that. Isn’t it?”
Birds chirped as they pecked at the seed in the feeder, flying across the expanse of the window as James glanced back and forth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You know...” I wagged my finger and gave a derisive laugh. “It was my mom who made me suspect something was wrong here?” I pointed to the photo. “Things just didn ‘t quite seem to add up.”
His eyes squinted, his shoulders raised high as he shifted. “I’m not quite following.”
“Really? You don’t even have an inkling?” I gripped the edge of the seat, my palm curving against the edge.
I can do this.
This time it’s different.
James turned his palms skyward as he shrugged, the broken capillary spiderwebs swimming in crimson on his cheeks.
He knows.
I drew in a deep breath through my nose and let it out, keeping my guts from spilling out in a raging inferno. “How did you end up at a concert with a sixteen-year-old girl.”
He eyed the door, his gaze flickering between it and the photograph. His breaths quickened, his chest rising and falling in shallow bursts. “I—“
I pulled the knife out of my jacket and laid it across my lap, my hand tightening around the handle.
Blood drained from his face, turning it into a sickly pallor as he stared at the blade. “Let’s just talk about this.”
“That’s what we’re doing.” One brow slid upward.
“We don’t need violence. Be rational. ”
I tilted my head, eyes narrowing. “Oh, but I am.”
The furnace kicked on, offering a blast of warm air with a slightly burnt aroma. “You see, June had no reason to tell you she’d joined Amber at the concert. In fact, you weren’t even there to witness it, even if she did. Were you, James?” He shifted in his seat, the leather beneath his legs groaning.
“This is all a misunderstanding.” James’ chin trembled, red crawling up his cheeks.
“See, I don’t think it is.” I gripped the knife harder, pressing the flat edge to my leg. “Why were you there, but most importantly, what were you doing there with Amber?”
His eyes widened, his brows peaking, causing the wrinkles on his forehead to deepen. “I didn’t go with her.” He lowered his voice, keeping the conversation within the confines of the room. “I just... saw her there.”
“Just saw her?” Suspicion twisted in my gut. “And then what?”
He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. “Her friend ditched her, and she looked... lost.”
“And you decided to take her under your wing?”
He shook his head. “We talked, that was it,” he looked at the door, “and then we went our separate ways.”
“But it didn’t end there, did it?”
His gaze struck the ground, and a hand flew through his hair. “No.”
My hand tightened over the knife. “What else happened?”
“She kissed me.” His face paled. “I told her we shouldn’t. It wasn’t right, but then she started sending me little notes. She became obsessed and wouldn’t stop.” He leaned forward and hung his head, his elbows braced on his knees. “It didn’t go any further than that. I swear it.”
“She was a child, James.”
He stood with fists clenched. “Don’t you think I know that?” He rubbed the back of his neck and turned his side to me. “She was my daughter’s age, for Christ’s sake.”
“And then what?” My knuckles popped as I squeezed the knife handle harder, my heart rattling in my chest as though it’d come loose.
“Are you going to kill me in my own home?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“You know I found her in my bed once?” He shook his head, his hand flopping down to his side. The floor creaked outside the door. “I’d come home early. It was my anniversary with Susan. We were going to the resort for dinner, and I wanted to surprise her before she came home.” James turned, his brows tightened together. “When I got home, there she was, in my bed, stark naked.”
My gut bubbled, and my skin heated. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not. I told her to leave. Do you know what she did?” He paced back and forth, his eyes wide. “She threatened to tell everyone I raped her. On my Goddamned anniversary.” The cords in his neck bulged, his face mottled.
“When was this?”
The whites of his eyes expanded, his nostrils flaring. “A few days before she died.”
My blood boiled, searing my flesh, my cantering pulse throbbing in my throat. I jumped to my feet and pressed the knife to his throat. “So you killed her, didn’t you? That’s how you have her locket in your little trophy case.”
“Trophy case?” His mouth dropped open as he shook his head, his brows cinched together. “No. I would never.” His Adam’s apple bobbed against the edge of the blade. “I told her she needed to stop. That it was getting out of hand. She threatened to tell everyone of this fantastical relationship we had.” Tears brimmed in his eyes. “I was going to lose everything.”
“So you killed her?” I ground my teeth, baring them as if I’d rip his throat out.
“No. I—“
“He didn’t do it, Carter.”
Susan stood in the doorway, and I pulled the knife away from James’ neck, glancing between them, her hands clasped in front of her, her shoulders hunched. “I did.”
My stomach bottomed out, and the need to vomit hit me like a freight train. “You?”
She gave a curt nod. “James is telling the truth.”
“Susan?” James leaned forward, his hand outstretched to his wife, his brows narrowing, his lips curled. “It was you?”
“Why?” I pointed the knife at her, my hands shaking.
How was her killer closer than any of us realized?
I shared food with her at my table.
I bought her a home... both of them.
Snarling, I raised my knife. “Explain yourself.”
“James didn’t know it, but I saw her in our bed, naked...” disgust scrunched her face as her eyes slipped to the left, “sitting on her phone like she wasn’t violating my home.” She walked around me and sat in the chair he’d occupied before. She kept her back straight, her hands resting on her closed legs, her dress dangling around her ankles. “Her little obsession was going to destroy my family, and I panicked.”
“You panicked, as in plotted her death, kept a memento for safekeeping, and then pretended to grieve for her?”
Her eyes clashed with mine. “I did grieve for her—for the young, innocent woman we used to know and love.”
“Why didn’t you bring it to my parents?”
James moved off the side, and she followed him with her eyes. “The outcome would have been the same.” She held her head high. “She had evidence, notes passed, the stupid picture from the concert, and the postcard they’d gotten together.” Susan scoffed, shaking her head. “He even kept a ring from her.”
“So you entertained the relationship?” I glared at James, and he shook his head.
“There wasn’t a relationship. We went to the Garden of the Gods together,“ he moved his finger between him and Susan. “The next morning after we’d gotten back, there was a postcard on my windshield, along with the photograph.” He shook his head and moved closer to her. “I never went with her. I swear it.”
“But you knew about this little thing between them? ”
“Only after it was too late.” Susan swallowed, the weariness on her face creasing the wrinkles around her eyes. “I am sorry, Carter. She was out of control.”
“Sorry?” I huffed. “You don’t murder a child because they are out of control. You find them help.” My stomach clenched, bile burning my throat as I squeezed the handle Susan used to kill my little sister. I turned, my nails scraping against my scalp as unshed tears burned my eyes. “You have to turn yourself in.”
“What?” Susan shuddered, her hand clutching her shirt. “I can’t do that. Think of what it would do to June.”
I growled, my fist punching through the wall. “Do you know what your lie has done already?” Plaster fluttered to the floor as I pulled my hand from the hole.
“Hey,” James said. “Now you’re going to fix that.”
“That’s the least of your worries, James.” I turned to Susan. “Did you ever wonder what really happened that caused June to leave Avon?”
“We assumed she found you and took the chance she always wanted.”
My heart soared, the validation of her feelings swimming inside me.
“I almost killed her.”
“You what?” James clenched his fists.
“Someone convinced me she was responsible. Sent me videos,” I held up the knife, “and this...” I turned it, showing her the initials carved into it.
“I knew that looked familiar.” James’ brows hiked. “Why do you have it?”
“Just said... Someone wanted me to kill June and place the blame for Amber’s death on her. All because you kept it a secret.”
“Who would want to do that?”
“Who else?” I chuffed. “The Exodus.”
Susan’s eyes widened as she snapped her gaze up to James, her breaths coming in short and hard. “But The Reckoning is over, and you don’t have the immunity here like you did there.”
“And?”
“So...” She gulped. “So you can’t kill me without going to prison yourself.”
I backed away from her. “I have no intentions of killing you, Susan.” I looked at James. “Or you.” I tucked the knife in my other hand and used my free hand to reach into my jacket pocket. “But I do intend on turning you in.”
Turning the screen towards her, I showed her the phone recording of our conversation.
James fisted his hands at his side and stepped toward me.
“Careful. This conversation is saving on the cloud.” James halted in place. “So even if you take my phone or do anything to me, you won’t have access to delete it.”
I put my hand on the open door and backed away from the room. “It’s taught me something, you know?” I waved the knife between us. “All of this.” Sniffing, I rubbed my nose. “It’s taught me just how far I’m willing to go for love and the sacrifices I’d make for it. ”
“Do you think June will forgive you for this?” Susan stood, her arms crossed over her chest, a tear crawling down her cheek. “She won’t.”
“Then she wasn’t the girl I thought I knew,” I paused, “but there is one thing I do know.” I put the knife back into my jacket pocket and stepped out into the hallway. “She’ll for sure never forgive you. You’ve got until three today.”