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Kate had responded immediately, wanting to come to Jules and whisk her away. She had thanked her but requested she not come. For right now, she would deal with this heartache on her own.
“Jules?”
Shaking herself out of her stupor, she turned her attention back to the woman across from her. Even though she doubted anything would help, Jazz deserved an explanation. They had been becoming friends, and Jules mourned that loss. She recognized a kindred soul in Jazz McAlister—a woman who trusted few and would give her life for those she did trust.
Jules took a breath and said, “My real name is Lucy Carson. My parents were murdered by John Leland Clark. He abducted me, kept me prisoner for several weeks. I managed to escape.”
She saw the recognition of Clark’s name in Jazz’s expression and appreciated that she didn’t ask what Clark did to her during that time. Reliving that was beyond her. Just getting the bare facts out was going to take every ounce of energy she had left.
“When I was found, I thought the nightmare was over. I was wrong. Clark continued to kill. At each kill, he left a letter saying that if I returned to him, the killings would stop.
“At first, everyone sympathized. I was a victim, and he was continuing to torture me. But the longer it took to find him, and the more he inferred that I wanted him to kill my parents, the more angry people became. They needed a scapegoat, and I was the only available target.”
Jules lifted her shoulder in a helpless shrug. “I had never seen Clark before that night. Turns out, he was a busboy at the restaurant where my parents and I ate dinner. My dad and I had an argument. Clark, for whatever reason, became fixated on me.
“People started speculating that perhaps I did know him before. That maybe I did help him kill my parents and then ran away with him. That my escape was nothing more than a lovers’ spat.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
Despite the deadness she felt inside, Jules felt something like hope blossom within her. She shoved it down.
“At first, it was only a few whispers, but the more Clark killed, the more people wondered if it could be true. Social media wasn’t at a frenzy then the way it is now. It was new enough that people could say all number of things and not have their opinions questioned. Before long, there were groups devoted to creating all sorts of theories about my involvement. People even created blogs about it. Clark became known as the Dear Lucy killer—in reference to his letters to me.”
“How did people know about the letters? Seems like that’s something law enforcement would keep under wraps.”
“The FBI tried to keep a lid on them, but there was a leak in local law enforcement in one of the towns where Clark had killed a young woman. A deputy sheriff who believed the rumors of my involvement told the local press about the letters. The news went viral. The Dear Lucy killer moniker came after the leak.”
“Kate was the FBI agent in charge of the Clark case. That’s how you met her.”
“Yes. She was my saving grace. If it hadn’t been for her, I would be dead.”
“You don’t have any other family?”
“My mother and father had no siblings. I was an only child. My grandparents are dead. My father’s law partners were kind at the beginning, but I think they began to question my innocence, too.”
“You had no friends to help you?”
“I had a boyfriend. He didn’t stick around long, though.” At the time, Rob’s defection had hurt. She had thought he loved her. It had been one more bruise to a soul that was already defeated. Now she could be glad that he hadn’t stuck around. She hadn’t known what real love was then…she did now.
“So Kate arranged a new life for you?”
“Yes.”
But the new identity and new face were just the surface stuff. Kate Walker had quite literally saved her life. Not only had she still been dealing with her parents’ deaths and the brutality of what she’d endured during her weeks of captivity, she’d begun to believe what people were saying about her. That, in some way, she was at fault. If she hadn’t argued with her father at the restaurant, Clark might never have noticed her. Had he taken that argument as some kind of sign that she wanted her parents dead? She began to question everything about that night. Had she done something, said something, that had sparked his insanity?
All of that, plus the knowledge of all the lives she could have saved if she had just killed Clark when she’d had the chance, had put her over the top.
Her one thought was to end it all. If Clark was killing just to get her back, as he claimed, her only choice was to no longer exist. If she were dead, he would stop. She had thought to make that a reality. Her depression had been so deep, her guilt so all-encompassing, suicide had looked to be the only way out. Kate had convinced her that she had survived for a reason. She’d made her realize that living would be the best revenge.
And then Kate did something she’d never done before. She broke the law, not once, but many times over. Not only did she fake Lucy’s suicide, but she created a new identity and new life for Jules.
“Was that when Kate left the agency?”
“Not then but it wasn’t long after. Her husband had been diagnosed with early-on
set Alzheimer’s around that time, too. She wanted to spend as much time with him as she could.”
“I never got to meet him.”
