Cold Case in Cherokee Crossing. Rita Herron
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He looked confused for a moment. “I...don’t know. I think I dropped it when I ran to Avery.”
“Did Avery have blood on her hands? On her night clothes?”
Hank shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
Jaxon breathed a small sigh of relief. If Avery had stabbed Mulligan, she would have had blood on her. She was only nine, too young and traumatized to have stabbed someone and clean up the mess.
Hank made another guttural sound in his throat. “Then Avery didn’t kill him?”
“I doubt it,” Jaxon said.
“That’s the only reason I confessed, to keep her from being taken away.” Hank gripped the edge of the table. “But if she didn’t kill him, then I’ve spent my life in a cell for nothing.”
Jaxon knew his boss wasn’t going to like it. But he actually believed Hank Tierney.
“There’s one major problem with your story,” Jaxon pointed out. “You and Avery both claimed there was no one else in the house that night.”
Hank pinched the bridge of his nose again. “There had to have been. Maybe someone came over after Mulligan tied me up in my room.”
Jaxon gritted his teeth. That was a long shot. But it was possible.
Even if the man had killed Mulligan, Mulligan had deserved to die. Hell, Hank Tierney was a hero in Jaxon’s book.
He didn’t deserve a lethal injection for getting rid of a monster.
He should have been given a medal.
And if he hadn’t killed Mulligan, then someone else had. Someone who was willing to let Hank die to protect himself.
* * *
AVERY WAITED IN an empty office for the Texas Ranger while he questioned Hank. She was still reeling in shock over her conversation with her brother.
She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed him over the years. She’d been too busy trying to survive herself, working to overcome the trauma and shame of her abuse and the humiliation that had come from being a Tierney, born from a family of murderers.
Therapy had helped put her broken spirit and soul back together, although she still bore the physical and emotional scars.
But she had been free all this time.
Her brother had been labeled a murderer and spent most of his life behind bars, living with cold-blooded killers, rapists and psychopaths.
Hank didn’t belong with them.
She had to talk to that lawyer. The guards had confiscated her cell phone when she arrived and would return it when she left, so she stepped to the door and asked the mental health worker if she could use the phone.
“I need to call my brother’s lawyer.”
The woman instructed her how to call out from the prison, and Avery took the card Hank had given her and punched the number. A receptionist answered, “Ellis and Associates.”
“This is Avery Tierney, Hank Tierney’s sister. I’d like to speak to Ms. Ellis.”
“Hold please.”
Avery tapped her shoe on the floor as she waited. Through the window in the office, she could see the open yard outside where the inmates gathered. Only a handful of prisoners were outside, four of them appearing to be engaged in some kind of altercation.
One threw a punch; another produced a shank made from something sharp and jabbed the other one in the neck. All hell broke loose as the others jumped in to fight, and guards raced out to pull them apart.
She shuddered, thinking about Hank being a target. How had he survived in here? He must have felt so alone, especially when his own sister hadn’t bothered to come and visit him.
How could he not hate her?
“This is Lisa Ellis.”
The woman’s soft voice dragged Avery back to the present. She sounded young, enthusiastic. “This is Avery Tierney, Hank Tierney’s sister. Hank told me that you came to see him and are interested in his case.”
“Yes,” Ms. Ellis said. “I’ve looked into it, but unfortunately I haven’t found any evidence to overturn the conviction. And your brother wasn’t very cooperative. In fact, he told me to let it go.”
Avery traced a finger along the edge of the windowsill as she watched the guard hauling the injured inmate toward a side door. Blood gushed from his throat, reminding her of the blood on Hank’s hands and Wade Mulligan’s body.
“Miss Tierney?”
“Yes.” She banished the images. “I just talked to Hank. We have to help him. He’s innocent.”
A heartbeat of silence. “Do you have proof?”
Avery’s heart pounded. “No, but I spoke with a Texas Ranger named Jaxon Ward and he’s going to look into it.” At least she prayed he would.
“I read the files. You were the prime witness against your brother.”
“I know, but that was a mistake,” Avery said. “A horrible mistake. I was traumatized at the time and blocked out the details of that night.”
“Now you’ve suddenly remembered something after all these years?” Her tone sounded skeptical. “Considering the timing, it seems a little too coincidental.”
Frustration gnawed at Avery. The lawyer was right. Everyone would think she was lying to save her brother.
“I didn’t exactly remember anything new,” Avery said, although she desperately wished she did. “But I just spoke with Hank, and we had a long talk about that night. It turns out that he confessed to the murder because he thought I killed Wade.”
Another tense silence. “Did you?”
Avery’s breath caught. That was a fair question. Others would no doubt ask it.
And if she had killed Wade... Well, it was time she faced up to it.
“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I don’t think so. But Hank said when he came into my bedroom, Wade was already lying on the floor with a knife wound in his chest. He saw me crouched on the bed, crying, and he thought I killed Wade in self-defense, so when the police came, he confessed to cover for me.”
“That’s some story,” Ms. Ellis said. “Unfortunately without proof, it’ll be impossible to convince a judge to stop the execution and reopen the case.”
Despair threatened to overwhelm Avery. She understood the lawyer’s point, but she had to do something.
“Can’t you argue that someone else came in, killed Wade Mulligan and left?”
“With you in the room?”
Avery closed her eyes, panic flaring. If only she could remember everything that had happened that night...
“The social worker and doctor who examined me afterward can testify that I was traumatized, but that it was possible.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Tierney, I want to help. But I need more.”
Determination rallied inside her. Then she’d get more.
Footsteps pounded the floor, and she looked up and saw the handsome-as-sin Texas Ranger appear in the doorway. His square jaw was solid, strong, set. Grim.
His eyes were dark with emotions she couldn’t define.
He didn’t believe Hank. He wasn’t going to help her.
She could see it in his eyes.
Hank’s scarred face haunted her. She’d let him down years ago when she told the police she’d seen him stab Wade. And then again when