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A search of the man’s family revealed a sibling—not a twin—a variety of cousins, and parents who were alive and still married to one another. He noted they lived in Asheville in the home Adam had been raised in. Their comments to the press about Lainie had not been flattering. In fact, they’d been downright threatening. Talking to them might prove enlightening.
Reading the report and what Adam had done to Lainie made him sick to his stomach, but the man was dead and buried and James was glad of it.
“‘I was asleep,’” he read, hearing her voice in his head, “‘and a noise woke me up. A loud click ... or a pop, next to my ear. Like it misfired. It woke me up and I rolled and he fired again. That bullet hit me in the shoulder, but I ... I don’t know. I kept moving and rolled under the bed. Adam went one way, I went the other, and I made it out of the room, down the hall, and into the den. He followed me. I threw a fireplace poker at him and it hit him. I tackled him, he dropped the gun, and we both went after it. We fought and I managed to grab the gun, but he just wouldn’t stop. I yelled at him to, but he wouldn’t. He was going to kill me, told me he was, so I pulled the trigger.’”
James shuddered and clicked to the investigation notes. All evidence pointed to self-defense and it had been ruled as such. Crime scene photos were never pleasant to look at, but knowing Lainie had lived this grieved him deeply. He clicked off the screen and back to the report. The detective had asked her to go back to the argument. “‘I called off our engagement. He was angry. So very angry. We argued and I insisted he leave. He refused, and I didn’t really know what to do next. I was afraid if I called the police right then, it would push him over the edge. I just wanted him gone. So I told him if he didn’t go, I would, that I didn’t want to be around him, and that when I returned, if he was still there, I’d call the cops. He didn’t say a word and I left. I was gone for about three hours. When I cameback, he was gone and my house key was on the table. I planned to have the locks changed the next day.’”
James stopped reading and rubbed his eyes. As he read, he could hear Lainie’s voice in his head, almost see the tears in her eyes, hovering on her lashes, refusing to fall.
Cole walked over to him. “I have some things at the office I need to do. I’m going to make some fresh coffee, then head out. You want some?”
“I’m good.” The last thing he needed was more caffeine.
Cole nodded to the screen. “Anything jump out at you?”
“Just that it’s a shame some guys give the rest of us a bad name,” he muttered.
“True, but that’s been the case since the beginning of time.”
“I know.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I know.”
Cole headed for the kitchen and James turned back to the report.
“‘When I got home,”’ he read, “‘I poured myself a glass of milk, which I do every night. It was the last of it. I carried it to my bathroom, intending to drink it after I got out of the shower, but ended up knocking it over and onto the floor. Thankfully, it hit the rug next to the sink and not the tile, so it didn’t break. But it triggered something inside me. I sat there and cried. Over spilt milk. Cliché, right? But mostly over what my life had become. Over knowing what I needed to do. So, I threw the rug in the washer, cleaned up everything, and crawled into bed. The next thing I knew, Adam was there and trying to kill me.’”
Which would explain why the glass in the bathroom held residue of milk and sleeping pills, but there’d been no drugs in Lainie’s system.
Cole waved on his way out and James went back to the screen.
Lainie went on to describe the incident and how she managed to get away from Adam, grab the gun, and pull the trigger. The second telling matched the first.
Once again, James closed his eyes, picturing it all happening and how terrified she would have been.
He rose, needing to move, pace, go for a run, something. He snorted. Yeah, a run would be nice, but probably not until his ribs had healed a bit. He grabbed his phone and headed toward the kitchen, deciding maybe caffeine wasn’t a bad idea after all. A knock detoured him, and he opened the front door to find Lainie standing on the porch.
“Lainie?”
With hands clasped in front of her, she peered up at him through thick, dark lashes. “Hi, I hope it’s okay I stopped by.”
“Of course.” He stepped back and she swept past him. He got a whiff of the scent that he always associated with her before following her into the den. “What’s going on?”
“First, how are you feeling?”
“Fine. Back to normal.” She shot him a knowing look and he shrugged. “Well, maybe not normal, but I’m okay. Now, what brings you here?”
“I wanted to show you something. It’s a video of the security footage outside the humane shelter this afternoon.”
She held up a thumb drive and he raised a brow. “All right.” He took it and plugged it into his computer, then settled on the couch to click his way to the only video file on the drive. “What happened?”
Lainie paced in front of the mantel. “The guy from the hospital was at the animal shelter. I think he followed me there.”
James watched the video play out, his heart rate picking up as the seconds ticked past. When the vehicle pulled out of sight of the camera, he started at the beginning and played it again. Lainie joined him this time, sitting beside him.
When the video finished once more, Lainie crossed her arms and tapped her toe, a deep scowl on her face and fear in her eyes. “I’m scared. I don’t want to be. I keep telling myself not to be. But ... I am.”
“Of course you are.”
She hugged herself, then rubbed her biceps. “He’s making mecrazy, James. I know it’s not Adam, but he had the scar.” She pointed to the base of her throat. “Exactly where I shot him.”
