Conflicting Evidence. Lena Diaz
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“Don’t accuse me of contemplating murder as if you have some moral high ground to stand on.”
She gasped with outrage. But before she could respond, he leaned toward her, arms braced on the desk, crowding her back against her chair.
“Unlike your cop-killing brother,” he said in a furious whisper, “I’m not a murderer. I wasn’t saying that I was going to harm Brian. Look around you, Peyton. I’m not the threat. Everyone else is. They’re all fired up to hunt him down. Once the trackers get here, his chances plummet to near zero.”
Alarm skittered up her spine. “Trackers? Chances? What are you saying?”
“Your brother murdered a law-enforcement officer. He—”
“No. He didn’t. He wouldn’t.”
Colin made a frustrated sound in his throat before grabbing a chair from beside a nearby desk and rolling it in front of her. He plopped down and moved close, his knees almost touching hers.
“They’re bringing in bloodhounds to hunt down your brother and the other escapees.” He kept his voice low, barely above a whisper. “Police officers and federal agents are lining up in neighboring counties, demanding a chance to help with the search. They’re going to find them, Peyton. A cop killer isn’t going to escape, not around here.”
“Stop saying that. My brother’s not a killer.” She let out a ragged breath. “Please, Colin. Stop.”
Something shifted behind his eyes, like clouds tumbling through a darkening sky. He drew a slow, deep breath and glanced around the room as if to get himself under control. When he looked at her again, some of the anger seemed to have drained out of him. In its place was a sense of urgency and frustration, visible in the tense set of his shoulders, the firm line of his jaw.
“What I’m trying to tell you is that Brian’s life is in danger. Not because anyone is going to purposely try to kill him. But because everyone is hyperaware that someone who’s shot one police officer won’t hesitate to pull the trigger on another.”
“But—”
He held a hand up to stop her. “What you don’t seem to understand is that whether or not Brian’s the one who pulled the trigger doesn’t matter. The officer was killed when Brian and three other criminals escaped. Under the law, all four of them are guilty of felony murder.”
Muscle memory had her reaching for his hand before she even thought about what she was doing. To her surprise, he took it, and entwined their fingers together. In spite of his anger, in spite of everything that had happened, or maybe because of it, Colin McKenzie was holding her hand. And just like that, she was able to pick up the pieces of her crumbling world and glue them back together.
It had always been that way between them. A simple look, or the warmth of his touch, grounded her, calmed her when things were going wrong. How odd that it would work today when he was part of the reason that her world was falling apart.
“What does felony murder mean exactly?” she whispered, barely able to force the words past her tight throat. “Does it mean...does it mean Brian could face the death penalty?”
He nodded, his hand tightening around hers.
“Oh, dear Lord. What am I going to do?”
“All you can do for now is help me try to save his life. Worry about the trial, about possible penalties, later. The entire law-enforcement community is on edge. They feel like their uniforms make them a target for a man who’s already killed one of their own. They’ll be quicker than normal to pull the trigger, out of self-preservation. That makes for an exceedingly dangerous situation, all the way around.”
His words rang true. The room was bursting with anger, nervous energy. Soon they’d be searching for her brother with that dangerous mix of emotions fueled by fear and adrenaline, while heavily armed. Brian was in a world of trouble, even worse than she’d realized.
“What kind of a deal are you offering?”
“I won’t lie and pretend that I can guarantee your brother’s safety. But he has a better chance of making it out of the mountains alive if I’m the one who catches him.”
She blinked. “You? But you...”
“Have more reason than most to want to catch him? You’ve got that right. But out of respect for your parents, whom I once thought of as my own family, I’d like to capture their son alive and give him a chance in the courts instead of against a hail of bullets. If you cooperate fully, help me figure out where he might be hiding, then I’ll hold off on arresting you for now.”
His implied threat had her tugging her hand free. “Hold off? For now? What does that mean?”
He flexed his fingers and sat back, his face an unreadable mask. “I reserve the right to arrest you and charge you with a felony for that stunt you pulled at your family’s house today. If you don’t legitimately help me figure out where he is, I will put you in jail and bring you up on charges.”
“You’re forcing me to choose again? Between you and my brother?”
He arched a brow. “What would be the point? We both know how that would turn out.”
She jerked back, his words stabbing her like a hundred daggers straight to the heart. But it wasn’t the words that hurt the most. It was the pain that leached through his tone, pain he was obviously trying to hide beneath a veil of rage. His pain was so much worse to bear than his fury, because she was the one who’d caused it. She’d taken a sweet, kind young man and twisted him into this bitter, angry person in front of her.
She wrapped her arms around her middle and closed her eyes, shutting out the ugliness of everything that had happened, everything that was still happening. Somehow, she had to get a handle on her swirling emotions, without relying on her former childhood sweetheart to help her. She had to find the inner strength to do this on her own. If she gave in to her emotions, she’d slide onto the floor in a boneless puddle of anguish and self-disgust. And that wouldn’t help anyone.
“Peyton?” His voice was laced with impatience now.
Breathe. Just breathe. Pull yourself together.
“Peyton? Are you okay? Do I need to call an EMT?”
The genuine concern underlying his tone had her eyes fluttering open. The truth was there, in the way he was watching her so intently. In spite of everything, he still cared. Maybe she hadn’t destroyed him after all. Maybe there was still some goodness left inside. Maybe, just maybe, she could trust him to help Brian.
She straightened, drew a bracing breath. “No, I’m... I’ll be okay. Thank you.”
He frowned, seemingly unconvinced. But he gave her a curt nod and motioned toward the groups of officers scattered around the room. “You can play the odds and wait and see if the makeshift posse shoots first and asks questions later. Or you can work with me to increase his odds of being brought in alive. That’s the offer that I’m making. It’s your choice. But you have to make a decision. Right now.”
“What happens if I say yes, that I’ll try to help you?”
“Since your house is still being processed as a crime scene, we go back to my place and you answer my questions there. You tell me everything he’s told you through the years, in every visit you made to the prison or every letter or email you exchanged. We make lists of places he mentioned, places he talked about visiting again one day, any people still in this area whom he might turn to for help. And we make a plan to lure him into a trap.”
A trap for Brian, just like the trap closing in around her. She shivered even though the air-conditioning wasn’t all that successful in keeping out the brutal summer heat.
“If I don’t help you, my brother could be killed and I go to jail. If I do help you, he could still be killed, but you’ll do your best not to kill him. And even then, he faces the possibility