“Dammit, that’s not true. I made a hell of a lot of mistakes when I was a teenager. I didn’t want Amy to fall into the same traps. I got out, but other people don’t.”
“And she was weaker than you.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No? You could ‘get out’ of the gutter, but Amy couldn’t? Not without the big macho cop throwing his weight around?”
Kirby stood and packed up what had obviously been a picnic.
“Travis, I promised Amy that I would help get you to understand. She died before she had a chance to explain herself. To convince you she was worthy of your love and respect.”
“I always loved her.” Zack pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes hot with unshed tears.
“Yeah,” Kirby said softly. “I know you did. Deep down so did Amy.”
“God, I hope so.” He swallowed the hot sting of tears. What if Amy didn’t know how much he loved her? He’d just wanted to protect her.
“I tried to talk to you after Amy died, but you never wanted to listen.”
“I blamed you for what happened.” Zack paused. “And myself. I was more to blame than anyone.”
“The killer was the one to blame. The drug dealers were to blame. Not me, and certainly not you, Travis.” Kirby slung his backpack over his shoulder and stared at Zack. “Amy credited you with her life turnaround. Yeah, she gave you a rough time, but she loved you. If it weren’t for you, she would never have had the courage to get off drugs. You were there when she really needed you.”
As Kirby walked away, he said, “By the way, I gave my notice to the Times. I hate my editor. Everything you think I wrote about you, I didn’t. I just wanted you to know that before I left Seattle.”
Zack turned to Amy’s grave. He sat in the spot Kirby had vacated and stared. He ran his hand over the engraved name.
Amy Elizabeth Forster.
Amy had their mother’s maiden name. She never knew her mother, or her father. Zack was all she had, and he’d failed her in so many ways. But maybe not in the ways he’d always thought.
Now alone, he let the tears fall.
“Amy, I’m sorry we never talked. Really talked. I’m sorry I was such a domineering jackass that you thought I didn’t trust you. Maybe-maybe I didn’t. But I was wrong. I’m proud of you, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.”
He pictured Olivia falling down the crevice, jumping from a moving vehicle. The cut on her neck; the wound over her heart.
If something happened to Olivia, he would feel just as lost and alone as he did now. With her, he’d felt complete. She was smart and sexy and wise.
And he loved her.
Was he a fool to hold her deception against her? To use her lie as an excuse to force her from his life?
Could he forgive her?
He envisioned Olivia as she was on Friday, looking at the house she’d grown up in, a house full of grief.
I’m glad the house finally found a real family.
He wanted a real family. He wanted the life he’d been denied by a selfish mother.
He wanted his family to start with Olivia.
CHAPTER 33
Miranda and Olivia were glued to the news while Quinn was on the phone with his boss getting the details.
Jennifer Benedict’s father had shot and killed Chris Driscoll as he was being transported from the sheriff’s substation to the county jail. The Slayer was dead.
Olivia certainly didn’t feel sorry for Driscoll, but she ached for the man who’d lost his daughter, and now his freedom.
But perhaps his freedom meant nothing with his only child dead.
The doorbell rang, and Olivia jumped. After learning about Hall last night, she was on edge. The late-night phone call with Zack hadn’t calmed her nerves. She kept replaying the conversation in her mind, wondering what she should have said. What she could have said to make Zack understand.
Maybe he never would. And she would have to live with that.
Quinn was well aware of the Hall threat, and he hung up the phone, looking through the peephole, gun in hand, before opening the door.
“Travis,” Quinn said.
Olivia whipped her head around. Zack!
He looked tired, like he’d slept about as much as she had the night before. He hadn’t shaved, and he wore jeans and his leather bomber jacket.
But when he caught her eye, she saw hope.
“Liv, we need to talk.”
She nodded. “Excuse me,” she mumbled to Miranda. For privacy, she took Zack upstairs to the guest room.
He stared at her bed. She followed his gaze to the open suitcase. She’d been packing when Miranda had called her downstairs to watch the news.
“You heard about Driscoll,” Zack said.
She nodded. “We were watching the news.”
“He’s dead.”
“I know.”
“I’m glad.”
She paused. “So am I.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
He didn’t say anything. Olivia couldn’t stand the silence.
“I meant what I said last night.”
“I know.”
Tears welled in her eyes. Why was he here if he wasn’t going to say anything?
“What more can I say, Zack?” Her voice cracked and she wished she were stronger. “Do you want me to get down on my knees and beg your forgiveness?”
Olivia ran her hands through her hair and paced. “I was eaten up with guilt. I felt responsible for every one of those girls who died. If I hadn’t been so positive Hall was guilty, maybe the police would have looked harder.”
Zack was about to interrupt, but Olivia held up her hand to silence him. “I know now it wasn’t just me. It was all the evidence together that strongly suggested Hall was guilty. But when he was first released, all I could think about was my own culpability.
“So I came out here to help. All I wanted to do was give you the information I had and see the face of the man who murdered my sister. I got so wrapped up in the case, I probably did things that would have gotten both of us in trouble, or killed. And for that I’m sorry, too.
“But mostly, I’m sorry I betrayed your trust. I never wanted to do that, Zack. Especially now. Especially now that I realize that I love you.”
“You love me, so it’s okay you lied.”
She spun around, glared at him. “Are you here to torture me? To show me what I can’t have? That’s cruel, Zack. I made a mistake, but not the one you’re blaming me for. If I had to do it over again, I would still have found a way to be here.”
“I know.” He looked pained, like he didn’t know what he wanted to say. “Liv, I’m trying. That’s why I’m here. I’m trying to understand.”
“Are you?”
He crossed to the window. It was late Sunday afternoon. Zack wondered why he had come.
“I don’t want to lose you, Olivia.”
“Zack.” She was behind him. Tentatively, she wrapped her arms around his waist. Her face pressed against his back. “I don’t want to lose you, either.” Her voice was soft, sweet.
They stood like that for several moments.
Zack spoke first. “I was so angry when you told me the truth. It hurt. You didn’t trust me, just like my sister hadn’t trusted me. You expected the worst-that I would somehow stop you from avenging your sister’s murder. Amy also thought I would stop her from doing what she thought was right.
“Were you right? Hell, I don’t know. I’ve made decisions every day of my life, and I wonder whether some of them were right. I might not agree with your reasoning, but I understand why you got involved. And if it weren’t for you breaking the rules, Nina Markow could be dead right now.”
He turned around to face her. Tears shone in her eyes. He didn’t want to make her cry. The thought of Olivia sad made him ache. “We would never have learned Driscoll’s identity without your information on Brian Hall. You were a vital part of this investigation, and whether you have a gold shield or not, you’ve earned one as far as I’m concerned.”