Chapter Thirteen Brad
Chapter Thirteen
Brad
I could barely see as I drove home. My mind kept going over the fact that Sherry had shown up at the rink the one time in over a decade that Bree came. Then Hayne had taken Bree out on a date. I was furious with Hayne. He had a bad reputation with women for a reason.
I was more than happy when I turned into my driveway.
I locked the car and dragged myself inside the house.
My plan was to hit the shower and then bed, but once inside, instead of heading to bed, I stood in the center of the living room for a moment, then dropped into a chair.
I sat there and let my head spin. My knuckles were sore from the two fights I’d gotten involved in at the rink.
I was always up for a good fight, but when Dillan Overbeck had started to make comments about Bree leaving with Hayne, I had lost it.
I glanced to the photo of Sophia on the coffee table. That young woman would have had an entire life ahead of her. If only she had made safer choices. Frustration flared, and I snatched up the file to review it again.
I must have dropped off to sleep, because I jerked awake in a sweat, and my eyes went to the drawer across the room.
I tossed the file onto the floor next to me, got up, and walked over, then forced myself to open it.
There, tucked in a napkin at the back, was the small piece of barbed wire that I had found in Bree’s truck.
I studied it once again in the light. The tiny bits of red on the tips were odd.
For the life of me, I couldn’t imagine why she had it.
I’d taken it to Wes to get it checked out, and it was just red paint.
He couldn’t find anything else on it. I wondered if someone had played a cruel joke on her.
“Fuck!”
Ginger jumped, startled by my outburst.
“Sorry, girl.” I patted her head. “I need to deal with something.”
I grabbed my shoes and keys and headed out into the chilly night.
I got to Bree’s cabin within ten minutes with no traffic.
I parked and hopped out. Her place looked empty, but I knocked at her door.
I immediately got annoyed at the thought of her staying overnight at Hayne’s.
I knew she wasn’t mine, yet, but I wasn’t giving up.
That weasel sure as hell wasn’t good enough for her. Where the hell were they?
Ronnie had mentioned he didn’t like the way Hayne treated women, in spite of their friendship. He schmoozed, got what he wanted, then chucked them.
I heard a car and stepped into the shadows. I wasn’t sure I wanted to witness their goodbyes. It’d better just be a goodbye.
Hayne went around and opened the door for her and went in for a kiss. I saw Bree turn her head at the last minute, and he caught her cheek.
“Gotcha, good night, Bree.” He leaned against the car. “Thanks for joining me for dinner and for listening to me talk half the night.” He looked at his watch. “Wow, most of the night. I sure didn’t mean to keep you this long.”
“I’m happy to listen. We all have stuff we’re dealing with.” She yawned.
“Yeah, maybe next time you could share something so I don’t feel like it’s all about me.”
“Maybe.” She stepped back and gave him a clear signal that she was done.
He turned to get into the car, then looked back at her. “Call you later.” She waved as he got back in the car, and she watched him leave.
She jumped when I stepped out of the shadows. “Holy shit!” She grabbed her chest. “What the hell, Brad!”
“We need to talk.”
“Right now? I’m so tired.”
“Yeah? You obviously were busy.”
She rolled her eyes. “Look, Brad, what do you want to talk about? Can’t it wait? I really am tired.” She rubbed her arms as if she was cold.
“Something isn’t quite right with him, Bree. I know he’s a friend of my brother’s, but I think you should be careful.”
“Maybe,” she agreed, “but I’m a big girl and can handle myself. I made sure he knew I wasn’t interested in anything except friendship.” She brought her chin up.
“And I’m sure he’s looking for a friendship too.” I was being an ass, but I couldn’t help it. I’d aways been protective of her. Her eyes challenged me. “Anyway”—I held up my hands—“that’s not why I came here.”
“No?”
“Can I come in?” The cold was starting to set in, and I could see she was shivering under her coat. “I don’t want to talk about this out here.”
She dropped her head back with a heavy sigh, then turned and headed up the steps to her door. I followed her and noticed how cold and damp it was inside, so I made quick work of building a fire. She had disappeared into the bathroom, and I took a moment to check that her windows were locked.
She appeared a few moments later in loungewear. She tugged on a sweater, then gathered her long hair into a messy bun. As she slipped her feet into some slippers, she looked at me. I was glad that she was comfortable being casual with me. That had taken Sherry years to do.
“Can we make this quick? I’m barely able to form a thought here.”
I took a seat and waved her toward the couch across from me. Then I leaned forward and set the piece of barbed wire on the coffee table, and her eyes widened. I saw her throat contract as she put a hand to her chest.
“Where”—she cleared her throat—“where did you get that?”
“Your truck.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
She glared at me, and I saw a familiar darkness go over her. I knew the look because I’d seen it in my own eyes in the mirror. I knew how it felt too. Since the river murders, it had never really gone away.
“You had no right to take that.” Her voice was low and haunting.
I sighed. “You think I want it? Take it.” I flicked my wrist at it.
She reached for it, but her hand quickly retreated, and I had to wonder why she had it and what kind of memory was connected to it.
“You should leave.”
“I disagree.” I wasn’t going anywhere until I had answers.
“Brad.”
I shrugged and stood, my body towering over hers as I looked down.
I felt my temper build inside me, and I felt dangerously close to the boiling point.
I knew I needed to relax. “Bree, stop pushing me away. If this is going to work”—I paused—“as partners, we need to be honest with each other. Starting with this.”
“It’s from him. They’re from him!” she blurted and tossed her hands in the air.
“Him? The Barbed Wire Killer?”
“Yes, at least, I think so.” At her words, a painful, deep chill spread through me, and images from that horrible day broke through my mental barrier.
I’d always wondered where the monster had been hiding, but to think he could have been watching her all this time—that thought was enough to make me sick.
I opened my mouth to speak, then her words repeated in my head.
“Wait, you said they, as in more than this piece?”
Her fingers twisted the side of her sweater, then she turned and crossed the room. She opened a drawer and took something out, then came back and set six pieces next to the one I had brought.
She slid each piece apart, leaving a space between them.
She pointed to each one in turn. “One on the plane itinerary, all four tires at Quantico, and”—she slid the one I brought over—“one left in my mailbox.” Suddenly, her story from the night at the dude ranch campout came screaming back to me. It had been about her.
“Yes.” She seemed to read my mind again. “The trip itinerary story was about me.”
“All right.” I tried to place everything just so in my head.
“Each of these came when I seemed to be faced with a major life decision.”
I studied the pieces, and they all looked clean and were cut the same way, and each had the red-dipped tips. I wondered who else would take the time to screw with her this way. “Do you think it was a message?”
“You’re the detective. You tell me.” She lowered herself onto the arm of the chair.
I closed my eyes and talked myself off the ledge as the logical side of my head kicked in.
“Have you considered that someone might be screwing with you? Someone who you may have pissed off, like an ex-boyfriend or client? I mean, a simple internet search on either of our names would give plenty of unstable people a silver platter of ideas on how to hurt us.”
“Of course I thought of that”—she ran a frustrated hand over her face—“but I make a habit of not making enemies, so . . .” She lifted a hand as if to say, Your turn.
“Okay.” I nodded. But my mind spun. As unlikely as the idea might have been, was it possible she could still be watched by him? “I just can’t believe, this whole time . . .” I stopped myself from saying something mean. “Bree, did you tell anyone?”
“I did. I told the local police in Virginia. I even shared the file on the Barbed Wire Killer, but they believed that it was someone at Quantico who wanted to play a trick on me so I’d leave.
They said given how well I was doing there, I was a target for that kind of behavior.
I even called the detective who was on duty here in Sheffield, and I was dismissed again.
He said that there were three murders in Kentucky a few years after the murders here and that though the case had gone cold, the killer most likely was picked up on a different charge and was now sitting in prison.
” She tossed her hands in the air. “I got shut down twice and had no one else to tell.”
I stood. “Me, you could have told me. The one person who would have listened and helped.” I took a pause and rewound what she’d said.
I had heard of the Kentucky murders, and the lead detective on that case had sent over the paperwork to compare.
In my and Cap’s opinion, they had been extremely similar to the BWK cases, and they had never been solved.
She slid off the arm and took a step back like I was too close. “No, you didn’t need that. You had enough going on. I wasn’t going to meddle in your life.”