“That doesn’t answer why it wasn’t in the police file.” Brinley stood and retrieved another plate from the cabinet along with a can of soda from the refrigerator. “Have a seat. There’s plenty of pizza and breadsticks.”
“And I can answer that.” Jason scooted his chair over to make room for West. “Canvendish and Barnes were pretty big deals in this town and had a lot of friends. They could make sure nothing appeared in the official file.”
“Small town hide and seek.” Logan smiled but it was more grim than happy. “I know it well. You should have seen the mess I inherited when I became sheriff.”
“That’s Cavendish’s legacy.” West slapped down the can so hard soda flew from the top and landed on his hand and the table. “Corruption and back room deals. We need someone to come in and clean up this town.”
West reached behind and grabbed a towel from the kitchen counter to mop up the mess he’d made. Jason was grinning from ear to ear and Brinley didn’t have a clue as to why he was so darn happy. This entire case was a mess.
“You’re grinning like the village idiot, brother. What’s so wonderful?” West tossed the towel back on the counter before digging back in to his dinner.
“You.” Jason pointed a finger at his brother with a laugh. “You talk like there’s some magical being that’s going to rush in and sweep away all the crap that’s been building up here in Tremont for the last twenty years. You’re deliberately overlooking the obvious.”
“It’s not obvious to me but then I just moved here. What are you talking about?” Brinley’s gaze went to Jason then West, then Jason again trying to figure out what was going on between these two brothers. Even Logan was wearing a scowl and he was usually smiling.
“Aww, hell,” West muttered. “No way. I know what you’re thinking and it’s not going to happen. I have a job.”
“So? Cavendish did as well before becoming mayor. You should run. You’d do a good job.”
Brinley’s eyes went wide. “West run for Mayor? He’d get my vote.”
“See? You already have a vote.” Jason balled up his napkin and tossed it at his morose brother.
“What? You won’t vote for me? If you do and Brinley does and I do, hell, that’s three votes. At least I wouldn’t be completely shut out.”
West wasn’t taking this seriously but Jason was warming to the idea.
“I’m sure Mom and Dad will vote for you. Maybe our sister too. That’s six.” Jason jumped to his feet, his mind going a mile a minute. “Dad’s got a lot of friends that can help you. Donate to the campaign and all that. Let’s face it. No one really likes Leon. He only won last time because the other guy was even sleazier. Give the people an honest choice and you’ll win by a landslide.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” barked West. “If you think it’s such a great idea you do it.”
“I’m busy getting my business off the ground. You should think about this,” Jason urged. “You complain about Cavendish nonstop and everyone else does too. If you don’t like him, do something about it.”
West looked like he wanted to punch Jason but to his credit all he did was groan and slump in his chair. “I hate it when you’re right. Leon has to go but there has to be another way.”
“If you can think of another way, I’m all for it. But I think we both know that unseating him is what needs to happen.”
West picked up the pizza slice. “No more talking about running for mayor. We have a murder to solve. No, make that two murders. Tell me everything about your day. I’m hoping we’re getting close.”
“Something is going to give and soon,” Jason promised. “The insurance money is a huge clue. Wendell Barnes is starting to look good for it.”
But even if Barnes killed Linda, did that mean he automatically killed Gaines and shot Anita Hazlitt? Jason believed the two cases were entwined but he had to prove it. And that wasn’t going to be easy.
Chapter Twenty-Two
‡
Brinley roused from a deep sleep, rubbing her eyes and groaning at the luminous numbers on the clock. Two in the damn morning.
Yawning widely, she levered up on her elbows and listened for a long moment, trying to figure out what had woken her at this ungodly hour of the night. A low moan pierced the silence and one look a Jason told her he was in the midst of a nasty nightmare.
At some point he’d kicked the covers off, although he’d twisted the top sheet around his legs and appeared to be trying desperately to free them. His arm flailed and missed her head by inches as he gasped, barely intelligible words falling from his lips.
She could make out “no” but that was about it.
“Jason.” Brinley tentatively touched his shoulder, his skin damp with sweat. “Jason, wake up.”
He frowned and shook his head, another moan that sounded like it was dragged from somewhere deep inside of him.
“Jason,” she said, louder and more firmly this time. “It’s Brinley. Everything is fine. Wake up for me. Everything is okay. You’re okay.”
His lids fluttered and then he sat straight up, his arms shooting out and knocking her to the mattress while he dragged air into his lungs. His gaze darted around the room as if to assess his whereabouts before he groaned and buried his face in his hands, his body trembling.
Whatever terrible nightmare he’d been having was probably the reason he didn’t sleep well or all that much. She reached out once more and placed her arm around his shoulders, cuddling close until he stopped shaking and finally looked up and into her eyes.
“Jesus, I never wanted you to see that.”
His voice sounded hoarse and she wanted to get him a drink of water but she couldn’t leave him in this state. Rubbing her hands up and down his arms in a soothing motion, she pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder.
“You were dreaming.”
Jason shook his head and sighed. “Honey, that’s the last thing it was. There was nothing remotely pleasant. I was having a nightmare. The one tonight is apparently my subconscious’s favorite. I get it at least once every couple of weeks.”
Her fingers ran down his back, feeling the ridged scars of his ordeal. She’d felt them the first night they’d been together but hadn’t known what to say. Or if she should say anything at all. She couldn’t even begin to understand what he’d been through but she was here…and she heal him in any way she could.
“Tell me about it,” she offered softly, wanting dearly to take away this man’s pain but not having a clue as to how. “It might help.”
He gave her a lopsided smile. “Sure. It might help give you nightmares. It’s so ugly, honey. I don’t want this to touch you in any way.”
Men were so silly sometimes, always trying to protect the frail woman from things they didn’t need to be shielded from in the first place.
“It already has.” She set her chin on his shoulder and pulled him closer. “Please tell me. I want to help you.”
Jason didn’t say anything and the silence stretched on as they sat on the bed huddled together. Finally he sat back, propped against the headboard so she could lay her head on his chest. His heart galloped underneath her ear, telling her in no uncertain terms that whatever haunted him at night was truly evil.
“They tortured me.”
His voice was a mere whisper in the darkness. She stayed perfectly still and quiet, letting him gather his thoughts and emotions. It humbled her beyond words that he would bare his soul to her this way, and if it was possible it made her fall for him all the harder that he could allow himself to be this vulnerable in her company.
“They used whips and white-hot irons. Sometimes electricity. There was pain every day. In a way you get used to it so they have to ramp it up each time until you’re closer and closer to death at the end of each session. I’d sometimes pray for death to take me. Then afterward I’d feel guilty that I’d been so weak.”