CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
C HAPTER F ORTY -T HREE
Styrofoam cup in hand, Bree paced the hospital waiting room. Previous cups churned in her stomach.
Dozing in a plastic chair, Matt opened his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. He rolled his head on his shoulders as if his neck ached. “How many of those have you had?” He nodded toward the cup.
She looked down at the coffee. “I have no idea.”
Matt stood and stretched. “Any word on Claire?”
Bree had refused to leave until she could see Claire. Denver had been DOA at the hospital. “She’s going to be OK. They’re stitching her up. The bullet didn’t hit anything vital.”
“That’s a relief.”
Bree tossed back the contents of her cup. “It is.” But she didn’t feel relieved.
A nurse walked in. “Sheriff Taggert, you can see her now.”
Bree and Matt followed her down the hall. They stopped outside a private room, where a deputy stood guard. Claire was handcuffed to the bed. A bandage peeked out from the neck of her hospital gown. Her face was hospital-sheet white.
Matt leaned on the wall.
Bree stepped up to the bed. “Hey, Claire.”
Claire turned her face to the wall. “How could you want to see me?”
Bree said nothing, but she put one of her hands on top of Claire’s and gave it a small squeeze. Despite Claire admitting to helping Denver, she was still a traumatized minor—and she was still alone and vulnerable.
A tear trickled down Claire’s cheek. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything.”
“You don’t have to talk right now,” Bree said. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“I want to. I want to get it out.” Claire sniffed. “Denver contacted me a couple of months ago. He came into the store when I was working. At first, what he had to say freaked me out, but he kept coming. The store has a coffee shop. We started meeting before or after my shift. The more he talked, the more his story made sense. Josh had been ...” Claire licked her lips. “His attitude changed toward me over the past couple of years. When I was little, he mostly ignored me. Shelly treated me like a doll. When I got bigger, she lost interest. But Josh became interested. He started accidentally walking in on me while I was in the shower and bumping into me in the hall. I could feel his ... you know.” Her face went red.
Bree watched her face. She looked sincere. But she’d lied so much, Bree wondered if any of this was true either. Josh might have made inappropriate advances. Then again, what if Claire had made it up to justify what she’d done?
“I wasn’t allowed to have friends or join a sports team. Except for school and work, they kept me isolated. When Denver said he wanted to make them pay for killing our dad, I went along with it.” Claire blinked away for a few seconds. “He said our dad had been a great guy. He said our family had been happy back then.” A tear rolled down her pale cheek. “I wanted that family. I wanted a family that loved me. Josh and Shelly never did, not the way parents are supposed to.”
But you can’t go back. Bree knew this better than most.
“How did Denver find out that Josh killed Dallas Sawyer?” Bree asked.
“He was cleaning out his mother’s attic and found an old file of his dad’s. His dad—our dad—Dallas—worked for Josh. The company was a fraud, and Dallas was blackmailing him. He was pretty sure Josh had done it, but Denver wanted to make sure. So, he watched the Masons for a while. When he saw me, he knew who I was immediately—and that was his final proof. He confronted Josh a few weeks ago when Josh was out running. Josh laughed in his face and said he couldn’t prove anything.”
“Did Josh say why he took you?”
Claire shook her head. “Josh told Denver to fuck off.”
Josh had been too smart to admit to a crime.
“Who chased you at the playground?” Bree asked.
“That was Denver. He wanted to throw off the investigation with misinformation. Liam already had a record. I’d seen him dropping off Amanda a couple of times. I knew what his tattoo looked like.”
And she set up Liam with no remorse?
“What about Peter Vitale?” Bree asked. “Do you know him?”
Claire shook her head. “I never met him, but Shelly complained about his emails so many times, I knew you’d find those on your own.”
But Claire had mentioned the angry client in her first interview to be sure Bree looked for him.
“Why did you leave the Zuccos’ house tonight?” Bree asked.
“I like them.” Claire picked at the edge of the tape holding her IV to her forearm. “Denver kept texting me. Half promises, half threats. I didn’t want to go. Once I met my bio mom, I knew he’d been lying to me. All the times we met, he never mentioned she was an alcoholic—that she was so ... awful. But if I had stayed, Denver would have come after me. He would have killed anyone who kept me away from him. He acted like he owned me. They would try to protect me, and he’d hurt them. I couldn’t let that happen.”
Truth or lie?
“Do you know why Denver stole Josh’s and Shelly’s personal electronics?” Bree asked.
Claire stopped picking. “He wanted to break their codes and get access to their money. He was convinced they had offshore accounts.”
They probably did.
“Get some rest.” Bree released her hand. “We’ll talk again.” She didn’t have a good read on Claire, but Bree was done. She needed sleep—and time to process everything Claire had told her.
“What’s going to happen to me?” Claire picked harder at the tape.
Bree did the only thing she could. She was honest. “I don’t know. It’s not up to me.”
Because Bree was taking a giant step back. With everyone safe, it was time to rest, recharge, and regroup. Bree had identified with Claire too well. She’d put herself—and her kids—in Claire’s place. Bree hadn’t maintained objectivity.
And that could have put the case—and her team—at risk.
“Do you think Renata would keep my cat?” Claire asked. “I don’t want him to go to the shelter. He might be the only thing that ever loved me for me.”
Truth. Heartbreaking truth.
“I’ll ask her,” Bree said.
“Thank you.”
She and Matt left the room. Bree nodded to her deputy as she passed.
“What do you think?” she asked Matt once they were out of Claire’s earshot. “We still don’t know why Josh took her.”
“Based on what Claire just said, Josh killed Dallas. The kid was in the car. She was a witness, so he had to kill her or take her. Shelly wanted a kid. Maybe that’s all it was.” He shrugged. “With Denver dead, all we have is Claire’s word on everything, and Claire has lied extensively. So who knows?”
Bree agreed. “She lied smoothly. So why should we believe her now?” She waved a hand in the general direction of Claire’s room. “She could have made all that up. How would we know?”
“Good point,” Matt said.
“Well, fool me once and all that.” Bree sighed. “I’ll file my reports and leave the rest to the DA, the judge, a psychiatrist, et cetera. This will be one of those times when the system will have to sort out the mess.”
“Claire is either a manipulated victim or a psychopath,” Matt said.
“And I don’t have the skill set to make that determination.”
“But you have an opinion.”
“I think not everything is black and white. She could be both of those things to some extent. But I am feeling a little manipulated.” Or maybe she was uncomfortable with the way she had trusted Claire.
Why did I believe everything she said?
Matt nodded. “And yet you were still kind and compassionate.” He turned Bree to face him. “Even though you felt like she was using you.”
Bree’s mouth turned in a wry half smile. “I know it makes me seem like a sucker, but at the end of the day, I have to live with myself. Experiencing trauma at a young age can affect you for your whole life.”
Matt gave her a quick kiss. “That’s why I love you. One of the reasons anyway. You don’t let your ego get in the way of being a good cop—or doing the right thing.” He drew back, studying her face. “You experienced childhood trauma, and you’re not a killer.”
She cocked her head. “And yet I’m not very upset that I killed a man tonight. I should be.”
“It was justified.”
“I believe so, but that doesn’t mean it should be easy.” Bree was more disturbed by her lack of remorse than the act itself. What did that mean?
“You’re not a killer, Bree.” He gave her biceps a gentle shake. “Denver made the choices that led to his death tonight.”
“Either way, I’m the one who pulled the trigger.”