38. Caleb
Chapter 38
Caleb
D etective Masters arrives in Josh’s office in under an hour, accompanied by a woman who he introduces as Detective Carver with the NYPD. She carries a small soft-shell case.
“Brought her in because this is a jurisdictional nightmare,” he tells us. “Claire started talking. She mentioned you had a notebook of hers?”
Margo blushes. “Yeah. It was Lydia’s, and then Claire started writing in it.”
He grunts. “Can I see it?”
She rises, pulling it out of her coat. He takes it carefully, flipping through it.
“We’ll get this back to you,” he tells her. “But I need to take this as evidence.”
“I don’t want it back,” she says faintly. “If it helps…”
He nods, then turns to me. “Ready?”
“Can I…?” I motion for the journal. “Maybe Mom wrote about Tobias.”
I skim through it. She had to have written about him.
Margo reads over my shoulder, and her hand shoots out. “There. T.H.”
“He’s still at work,” Carver says, reading something off her phone. “We should go now. Ready?”
On the phone with Masters, I did something a little stupid. I volunteered to go talk to Tobias while wearing a wire.
I don’t know how long it usually takes to obtain a warrant, but apparently there’s enough evidence for them all to want to move with haste.
Carver reveals the thin piece of cord and medical tape, motioning to me.
I take a deep breath and remove my shirt. They work quickly, taping the microphone to my chest. I carefully pull my shirt back on, and Carver disappears into the hallway, her phone pressed to her ear.
“Testing?” I joke.
“You need to get him to admit to taking a bribe,” Detective Masters says. “And whatever else he tells you will be icing on the cake. Okay?”
My smile fades. “Got it.”
“Am I going?” Margo asks.
“Yes,” I say.
“No,” Masters says at the same time.
We glare at each other.
“She’s coming with me.” I’m not letting her out of my sight.
He sighs. “Fine. If anything goes south, you just say something about the weather—like, ‘I hear we’re going to have a hot summer.’ Some shit like that. Got it?”
“Yep.”
“What if he brings up the weather?” Margo asks.
Detective Masters groans. “Get creative.”
Josh frowns. “I don’t have a good feeling about this. What do you think will come of this?”
The detective’s gaze bounces around the three of us, then finally settles on Margo. “Claire told us that your mother’s affair with Ben Asher was planned between Amber and Lydia.”
I squint.
“Because of Hanna,” Margo says. Her voice is so low, we almost miss it. “This whole thing started because Lydia couldn’t keep her legs shut?”
I hide my smile behind my hand. My little wolf is coming back to herself.
“Ah—”
“Don’t answer that, Detective,” Josh says. “Let’s get this show on the road. I’d like nothing more than for this day to be over.”
We make the short trek to Tobias’s law firm. It’s just two blocks away, but Josh and the detective insist on driving. Carver nods at us from an unmarked car parked on the street. The van just ahead of her is probably filled with police officers. Or maybe it’s just one lonely tech listening to my breathing.
“You’re on your own from here,” Masters says. “Remember?—”
“Weather means help,” I say. “Got it.”
“Good luck,” Josh says.
I take Margo’s hand as we walk into the building. “I can’t believe you came here without me.”
“What was I supposed to do? Ask you to accompany me while I ask him about my dad?” She shakes her head. “You didn’t believe me.”
“I do now,” I say. “Ever since I talked to him. Maybe even before that.”
She glances up at me. “Really?”
“Yes. I want your dad out of prison. I swear it.”
She smiles. “Thank you.”
I call the elevator, and the doors slide open immediately. I hit the button for the law firm’s level, and the doors close. Silence descends. I’m too aware of the tape on my skin. The way Margo keeps sucking her lower lip into her mouth. If she wasn’t holding my hand, she’d be scratching her wrist. And… the silence is getting to me. Maybe my nerves are frayed from the day we’ve had, because a strange feeling is bubbling up inside me.
“I’m in love with you,” I blurt out. It’s about time I told her.
She freezes. “Huh?”
The elevator chimes, and the doors open.
Way to ruin it .
The floor is basically empty. We go past the receptionist’s abandoned desk. There are a few lawyers in the bullpen, at their cubicles with their heads bent. Some people never stop working. They’re itching to get ahead, so focused on the future that they forget to have lives.
They don’t notice us gliding past them.
I’m determined not to be like them. Not to shutter my gaze away from what’s happening around me.
Margo takes the lead. She’s been here before, and she seems to remember where she’s going. Around the cubicles, to one of the offices against the far wall.
Without knocking, Margo turns the knob and bursts inside.
Tobias Hutchins makes a choking noise in surprise. “Ms. Wolfe? What are you doing here?”
“She’s with me,” I say, stepping into the room.
He’s been afraid of me for a while. Since Mom once slipped that she knew him as more than a friend as she shuffled him out of Uncle David’s house. At the time, I thought they’d met at Keith’s trial. It was the natural connection.
But… I know the truth now.
“Ah, Mr. Asher,” Tobias says. “What brings you… here?”
Margo pulls out the journal. “Do you recognize this?”
He says nothing—which is an answer in and of itself.
I take it from Margo’s hand and stride closer. “She’s quite a detail-oriented woman, my mother.”
His eyes widen.
“She took note of every meeting, every chance encounter with our family. When everything goes sideways, who do you think will take the blame?”
“This is ridiculous?—”
“You botched my father’s trial,” Margo snaps.
“It wasn’t my idea.” Tobias loosens his tie. “You think I ever wanted this for myself? That I thought I’d be sitting on…”
“On what? Guilt?”
“Blood money.”
I lift my chin. “Who actually told you to do it?”
“Your mother was conniving.” He goes to the window, yanking his tie completely off. “She said no one would know. No one would find out. The knife had his fingerprints on it.”
Margo takes a step closer to me.
I tilt my head to the side. Rage has always felt strangely comforting to me. Like a security blanket I could wrap around my shoulders. I try to draw upon it now, but all I can muster is confusion.
Margo inches forward, until she’s half blocking me from Tobias.
“Lydia pinned the whole thing on you.”
I wonder when she learned to lie so well .
“Are you saying that isn’t true?” She crosses her arms. “We just came for the truth. If you can’t give us that… I guess we’ll see you at your court date.” She shrugs and pivots on her heel. “Come on, Caleb. We were just trying to help. But apparently he thought of everything.”
I follow her to the door. Doubt creeps up the farther we get, but I’m just about to step out when he calls, “Stop!”
We reenter the room.
“Sit. Please.” He gestures to the chairs in front of his desk, then slumps into his own seat. Once we’re comfortable, he gives me a look. “You know I had no choice.”
“Do I?”
“Your uncle is a monster. He threatened to take away everything if I didn’t comply.”
I scowl. “How did he get to you?”
Tobias shifts. “I didn’t use legal methods to get through law school. I was a defender on a case his business partner was involved in, and he…” He clears his throat. “He got to me then. When this case came up, he and Lydia suggested I volunteer.”
“That’s my dad’s life you threw away,” Margo says. “Like it was nothing but saving your own ass.”
“And a payout, I’d imagine.” I lean my elbow on the arm of the chair.
He glares at us. “Aren’t you listening? I didn’t have a choice .”
Margo opens the journal, practically tearing the pages with her force. “Two days before Caleb’s dad died, you were there. Lydia writes, ‘Tobias stopped by. He was nervous for what needed to be done. For our children’s sake, we’ve decided that I’m going to take them out.’ The next day: ‘Keith nearly ruined everything, but in the end, it worked out better than we ever could’ve imagined.’”
She lifts her head. “You killed Benjamin Asher.”
He hangs his head. “I wish I had never gotten roped into this. David and Lydia forced my hand.”
I jump to my feet. Screw the fucking wire, and the police listening in—he just admitted to murder . “You stabbed him and left him for me to find.”
“Lydia was supposed to find him,” he says quietly.
“Caleb,” Margo says behind me. “Easy.”
“It was your car that was used to hit Margo and her foster parent. You gave him the keys because of David—or was it my mother? Sweet talking her way into your?—”
“Fine! Yes, it was your mother.” He grabs at his hair. “She didn’t tell me?—”
“Bullshit,” Margo mumbles. “We need to leave.”
Get in and get out . Last-minute instructions from Masters before patting my back and sending us in here.
“You’re fucking twisted,” I tell him. “And you’re going to prison.”
“How’s that, Caleb?” Tobias straightens the papers on his desk. “Do you have more proof than just a notebook that could be filled with lies? No one is going to know that I was the one to kill Ben and get paid for it in more than just cash. No one will know that your mom and uncle were the orchestrators of the whole thing—including the so-called affair. Well, no, actually…” He winks at Margo. “The affair was just a plot between your mothers to bring down an angry, rich man. See how well that worked out?”
I pull up my shirt, exposing the wire. “Looks like the sun’s going to come out tomorrow. Unfortunately… I don’t think you’ll be around to see it.”
Tobias is calm for a moment, his eyes on my chest. And then he yells, lunging around the desk for me.
I yank Margo behind me, bracing for Tobias’s charge.
He stops short when Detective Masters bursts into the room, the door cracking against the wall.
Masters sneers. “Game over, Hutchins.”
He nods to me, and I guide Margo out of the room. She’s not reacting the way I expected her to— again . It means something dark has taken root in her mind.
This was too much for her.
We pass by the police who are filtering in from the elevator, and I opt for the stairs. We get down three levels before I tug her to a stop.
“Look at me,” I say.
She doesn’t see me. Her gaze goes to my face, but she’s not here.
I walk her backward, until she hits the wall.
She blinks up at me, squinting. “What are you doing?”
“Searching for you.” My lips touch the corner of her mouth.
She lets out a little breath but doesn’t move.
I move to her jaw, peppering kisses down the column of her throat. She’s immobile, letting me do whatever I want.
Until my teeth graze her skin, followed by my tongue. She tastes sweet.
I bite harder than I should.
Wake up .
She pushes against my chest. I soothe the tender spot with my tongue, and her pushing becomes pulling. Her hands fist in my shirt, dragging me closer.
I drift away from her neck, going for her lips. She’s ready, arching up. Her hands slip under the hem of my shirt, sliding?—
“Are they still listening?” she whispers.
Shit.
I rip the tape off and lean down, until I’m almost touching the microphone. “I’m unplugging this so you can’t hear me kiss my girl.”
She huffs.
A small smile flickers across her face when I yank the mic apart and stuff it into my pocket.
“Better?” I wink.
I lift her hand. Her knuckles are bruised, and she winces when I prod them.
“Where’d you go?”
She looks away. “All of this could’ve been avoided if I had just remembered …”
“Or if I had paid closer attention.” I place my finger under her chin and turn her head back toward me. “We can’t blame ourselves for our parents’ actions.”
She shudders. “How do you stop blaming yourself? I feel physically nauseated.”
I consider her question. A lot of it is my fault—she didn’t realize anything was so vitally impaired until I brought it to her attention. A worm of guilt cuts through me, but I push it away.
“What would your therapist say?”
She makes a face. “She’d probably say some bullshit about forgiveness.”
“I forgive you,” I say automatically. “Do you forgive me?”
“I didn’t hold it against y?—”
“Do you forgive me?” I ask again, slower. Darker. I run my finger along the top edge of her jeans, grazing her stomach.
She responds well to my darkness. It makes me think that maybe I succeeded in my mission to make our edges align.
“I do.”
I smirk, dragging my finger lower. I dip into her jeans, past the hem of her panties.
“See what it feels like?” I ask.
She bites her lip, staring at me. She puts her weight on the railing and lets her legs fall open.
Fuck me .
A door above us bangs open, and she leaps up, smacking her forehead.
“Ow.”
I chuckle, grabbing her hand and tugging her down the stairs. “You forget you were in a fight earlier today?”
“Easy to forget,” she mumbles. She trips over her feet, nearly bringing both of us down.
“That’s it.” I scoop her into my arms and push through the door onto whatever the hell floor we made it to. I hit the button for the elevator with my elbow.
“Kiss me,” she says.
I inspect her face. She seems better. But maybe I should just check…
She grins, reading my mind, and pulls my face toward hers. And the rest, as they say, is history.