“Meet me at my place. Bring the PI.”
“We’re heading that way now,” she assured him.
The call dropped off.
Chance pulled out of the parking lot. Rory held tightly to her cell phone, her heart pounding. Could Shane share something that changed everything? The better question was, would he?
Carter Residence
Old Larkinsville Road
Scottsboro, 6:45 p.m.
Shane’s truck wasin the driveway now.
Chance parked behind it and shifted his attention to Rory. “When he comes to the door, let me go in first. If something feels off, you run back to the car and drive away.” He dropped the fob into the cupholder.
“And just leave you here?” She shook her head. “No way.”
“I can take care of myself, Rory,” he assured her. “Just do this, and I won’t have to worry about taking care of you too.”
She wanted to be offended, but he was right. She had no real self-defense skills. The only physical fights she had been involved in were in the prison. Both times she’d been pretty banged up. But it happened a lot to the new prisoners. Especially ones like her who appeared privileged. If those doing the beating had only known.
They emerged from the car, walked toward the rickety steps and porch. As soon as they were at the door, it opened. Shane motioned for them to come inside.
Chance walked in first. When he’d had a look around, he gave her a little nod, and she stepped inside as well. She closed the door and steeled herself for whatever was coming next. Shedidn’t want to feel threatened by Shane, but she didn’t really trust anyone anymore.
“You’ll have to overlook the whole cloak-and-dagger business.” He shrugged. “But I feel like things are going to get dicey very soon.”
“What do you mean?” Rory asked. She was glad Chance was letting her take the lead with Shane. He might not be as open if the PI, as he’d called him, were the one asking questions.
“You want to sit down?” Shane asked.
She gave him a smile—at least the closest thing to it she could drum up. “Sure.”
They settled on his sofa, which looked on the well-worn side but appeared clean. Not like the sofa at Tay Banks’s house. Shane dropped into a chair that swiveled. He turned so he could face Rory. The mobile home was old for sure. The paneling was dark, the once white ceiling yellowed. But it was clean. The newer vinyl plank flooring so popular these days shone as if it had been freshly mopped.
“I feel like I was a jerk for not speaking up back then. I suspected things weren’t going the way they should with the investigation, but what did I know? I was a rookie. I don’t even know if I qualified as a rookie at that point. But like I told you before, now is different. Now I see things and understand.”
“What is it,” Rory asked then, “that you see?”
“That they’re all lying.”
“Who is thetheyyou mean?” Chance countered.
Rory held her breath, hoped the question wouldn’t cause Shane to hesitate.
“Everyone involved in the investigation,” he explained without missing a beat. “Fowler. The DA. Your own damn lawyer.”
Rory’s throat tightened. “What’re they lying about?”
Shane cleared his throat, stretched his neck as if needing to buy time. Finally, he said, “There was a case over in Henagar about six months before…what happened to Pete. A couple guys broke into the house where these two women lived—they were a couple, like you and Pete. The perps roughed them up pretty badly.” He looked away. “Assaulted one in other ways, if you know what I mean.” When he met Rory’s gaze, he said, “But nobody died. The perps just did what they did and took a few things of value. A laptop and phones. Some jewelry. Whatever money the women had in the house. Then split.”
Rory couldn’t speak for a moment. The realization that finally, over two years later, she was hearing this was good news, wasn’t it? A shift in the paradigm. She should be overjoyed to learn the crime against her and Pete fit a pattern…except fury roared inside her. Why had no one said anything back then? Before she could launch the rant rising inside her, Chance spoke. “Is there a reason this other case wasn’t considered during the initial investigation?”
Shane shrugged. “Sure, but I still think it was a bad call. Since the two women were lesbians, the case was marked as a hate crime. The thinking was that the victims themselves made it different from Pete’s murder. No one was killed, and there were actual items of value stolen. Considering all that, it was decided that the other case wasn’t related. But I can’t get it out of my head that maybe it was.”
“Did they catch the perpetrators?” Chance pressed.
