Authors: Chantel Rhondeau
Tags: #Mystery, #love, #Romantic Suspense, #framed for murder, #lake, #romance
Rose narrowed her eyebrows, not sure she liked where this conversation headed. Sure, Max leaving the threat was her first assumption, but she’d had time to think things over while waiting for the officers. “Max would have to be a complete moron to do this after speaking to me,” she pointed out. “He knew you were in there listening to us.”
Cal shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t care. You broke his heart when you let it slip that you never planned to marry him. Plus, Jimmy Durant says Max assaulted him in the parking lot.”
Rose dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands. Jimmy Durant persistently pestered her for dates and acted like he ran the town, possibly even more than Calvin did. “Jimmy probably asked for it. He’s always playing the tough guy and flashing that gun of his.”
“Why are you defending Max?” Calvin’s shock was obvious. “He killed your sister, and you’re defending him. That’s plain wrong, Rosie.”
Was it wrong? A court exonerated Max. No one in Clarkston wanted to give him a chance, all reacting like she had yesterday, but was he actually innocent? Rose had been so angry with him for so long, it was hard to adjust. She didn’t know what to think.
She shrugged at the officers. “I don’t want you going after him without looking at all the possibilities. A court
did
find Max innocent. If you focus on him, something could slip your notice. What if this is someone else’s doing?”
And
that
was not a happy thought. Could they possibly have two deranged people in her little town? Not that she was sure Max was deranged. Damn—she didn’t know what to think. It was too confusing.
Officer Jet glanced over his shoulder and down briefly, probably looking at the rat. “We take this stuff seriously, ma’am. Whether it’s Max Kensington or not, we don’t want another murder spree on our hands.”
So that’s why they brought in a state cop. Two of the girls murdered eight years ago had lived in nearby towns. One was from Serenity, a touristy place on the western side of the lake. The other murdered girl lived in Madras, which was about fifteen miles up highway 26.
When Oregon first learned they had a serial killer on their hands, there had been statewide panic. However, Rose could see a problem with blaming Max for all the murders. Sure, DNA evidence connected him to Sage’s death, but he hadn’t been convicted in the other killings. Not that the prosecuting attorney hadn’t tried. There just wasn’t any evidence.
Once Max was locked up, the murders stopped. It only made sense that the cops look at him as the culprit for them all, but Rose always had a nagging voice in her head that wondered when he would have had the time to kill those girls. He had kept busy working for his uncle, and when he wasn’t there, he was with her.
She heaved a sigh. Max was the only suspect they had for the rat, so that’s where they had to start the investigation. “Kelsey said whoever did this left a note. What does it say?”
Jet glanced at Calvin. “You know her pretty good, right? Think she can handle hearing it?”
“She’s got a good head on her shoulders,” Calvin answered.
“And ears that work, too,” Rose snapped. “Tell me. Obviously, it’s a threat of some kind. What does it say?”
Cal licked his lips and stuffed his hands into his pants pockets. “It says, ‘Watch your back. The cat’s next.’”
***
M
ax lazed in his bed, not wanting to face another day of persecution, but heard the knock on the front door. He sure hoped it wasn’t another concerned townsperson coming to berate his mother for letting him live here. It wasn’t like he had much choice but to come back. What could he put on a job application?
No job experience, but prison taught me to clean toilets like no one’s business and stand up for myself.
That should rush his application to the top of the pile.
He had applied for funding to start college after the summer, but he was mainly going through the motions to make his mother happy. He didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life. He’d always been good at fixing cars, but who would hire him? Truthfully, being free these past few days seemed like a dream. It was hard to make the transition.
“Max?” His mother tapped on his bedroom door. “The police are here to see you.”
Great. So much for freedom. Being home wasn’t all that different from having prison guards breathing down his neck all day.
Max hopped out of bed and pulled on some pants. He opened the door and nodded at his mother on the way to the bathroom. He was a free man, and there was no way he’d meet the cops with bed head and bad breath. They could wait. Despite his rebellious streak, Max did hurry through his morning ritual.
When he walked into the living room, Calvin Black and another officer waited for him.
“Take a seat, Max,” Calvin ordered. “We need to talk about where you were last night.”
Max stuffed his hands into his pants. “I’d rather stand, thanks.” He wouldn’t let Super Cop reduce him to criminal status by telling him what to do.
The other officer with Calvin shrugged and took off his hat, holding it loosely in his hands. “Mind if I sit? It’s been a long day already.”
At least this officer was less hostile. Max nodded to the couch, walking over to the chair beside it to perch on the edge of its arm. There was only one reason he could think they would show up asking about his whereabouts. “Is Rose okay?”
“Funny you would ask about her.” Calvin plopped next to the other officer, not waiting for an invitation. “Did you pay her a visit last night?”
Shit. Something
had
happened to her. Max folded his arms, tightly gripping his elbows and breathing deeply. It wouldn’t do him any good to yell at Calvin and demand to know what happened. The officer was determined to find Max guilty of something. He turned to the other cop, looking at his name badge. “Officer Jet, please tell me Rose is okay.”
“She’s fine, just shook up a bit,” he confirmed, relieving Max’s anxiety. “We do need to know where you were between midnight and seven this morning.”
“Seriously?” Max stood back up. “Did Rose say I did something? The last time I saw her was at the store around five. I never saw her after that.”
“Where were you?” Calvin asked, a sneer on his face.
“Here, in bed.” Max paced the length of the coffee table a few laps and then stopped, wondering if that somehow made him look guilty. “After I left the gas station, I came straight home and stayed here all night. You can ask my mom.”
Calvin snorted. “Did she sleep in your bed?”
“Of course not, you damn pervert!”
“Calm down,” Officer Jet said. “All he meant is that your mom can’t entirely alibi you if she was in a different room. Did you sleep alone last night?”
Max closed his eyes. They were determined to see him as a criminal, no matter what. “Yes, I was alone. I went to sleep around eleven-thirty, after the news. I never left the house.”
“Thanks for the story.” Calvin stood and headed for the door, Officer Jet trailing behind him. “Stay away from Rose. We’ll be in touch.”
As soon as the door shut, Max’s mom came into the living room, puffing out a plume of smoke. “What did you do?”
Sally Kensington still wasn’t over the fact she had become the town pariah due to Max’s conviction. She never let him forget how hard her life had been because of him. To be fair, she was a good mom, but the last eight years had been hard on her.
“I didn’t do anything, Ma. I don’t even know what happened. Something to do with Rose, but they said she’s okay.”
Sally walked across the room to stub her cigarette out in the already overflowing ashtray. “You stay away from that girl, son. She’ll only bring you pain. If I realized she worked the late shift, I wouldn’t have sent you for my smokes.”
Max lay on the couch, stretching his legs out and staring at the ceiling. “All this time, Sage was right.” He could still see the hurt in Sage’s eyes that night before it turned to anger and she slapped him, scratching his cheek in the process. “I told her she was a stupid, jealous little girl, who I’d never love as more than a kid sister. I told her not to spread lies just because she couldn’t handle the fact I loved Rose, not her.” Max closed his eyes. “It’s the last thing I ever said to her.”
The couch dented in as Sally sat next to his legs. “I’m sorry, son. I know that eats you up inside.”
“The worst part is, Sage told the truth.” He looked at his mom to see her frowning.
“What do you mean?”
“Rose admitted yesterday that she had planned to break up with me. I guess she got a full scholarship to that fancy school she applied for.” Max ran his hands through his hair. “I really wanted her to get that scholarship, and thought we were going to have a long distance relationship while she went to college.” He sighed. “Look at her life now. No school, no sister, and her mom’s in the nut house.”
“Don’t talk like that. We don’t say nut house,” Sally scolded. “Ginger couldn’t handle the pressures. I heard she carries a doll around and thinks it’s Sage. It’s so sad”
It was even worse than Max imagined. Rose’s mom had always been so good to him, treating him like a part of the family for the three years he dated Rose. “Lots of stress, thinking her future son-in-law murdered her baby. It must’ve broken her. If I found the real killer, it might help her get better.”
Sally lit another cigarette, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke upward. “Stay away from this, Max, please. It isn’t your fault, and you’ve been in enough trouble because of that Spelling girl.”
“Ma, I have to find out who killed Sage and those other girls. No one is searching for the real killer. They all just blame me.”
“Tell me something, Max, and I want you to be honest with me.”
Great. She had her judgmental voice going. “What is it?”
“Are you starting to have feelings for Rose again? It’s not healthy and will lead to nothing good.”
Max pulled his legs from behind his mom’s back and stood up, heading for his bedroom. “
Starting
to have feelings? I never stopped.”
R
ose turned off the truck’s engine and stared up at the building. Brentwood Asylum was a quarter of the way around the lake, about a fifteen-minute drive. The owners of the facility had bought the surrounding land, not developing it into a resort town like Serenity or even selling it off to be a real community like Clarkston. They kept the area’s dense forest intact behind the asylum, and the pathway to the lake was overgrown and ill kempt. The better to keep patients from escaping, she supposed.
It was actually quite depressing, but Brentwood could keep an eye on Ginger and Rose couldn’t. Most importantly, they could keep her from harming herself in the rare, lucid moments when Ginger remembered her baby girl was dead.
Though she didn’t feel particularly cheerful after the rat on the doorstep and the threat against Gizmo this morning, Rose couldn’t skip her weekly visit. She forced a cheerful smile on her face and climbed out of the truck, making her way across the rocky parking lot onto the overgrown grass of Brentwood’s lawn.
She entered the reception area, trying her best to ignore the man running around naked. A young woman in the corner repeatedly banged the back of her head against the wall, muttering quietly to herself while her eyes tracked the naked man. No nurse sat behind the large oak counter, and Rose could only guess there had been trouble that morning. Some of the patients were sensitive, and once something set them off, the nurses had explained to Rose in the past that it was difficult to calm everyone down.
Rose turned left, following the hallway that led to the first floor patient rooms. She stopped at her mother’s and knocked. “Ginger? Are you in there?”
The door was often kept locked, just so Rose’s mother couldn’t hurt herself, but Rose tried the handle anyway when there was no answer. It turned readily in her grasp, opening on to the small room.
Her mother lay on the bed, cradling the toy doll she insisted on carrying everywhere. Her hair hadn’t been brushed yet, and her clothes were rumpled and dirty. Ginger’s dark eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Who are you?”
Great. One of those kinds of days. “I’ve come to help get you ready,” Rose said softly.
Ginger struggled into an upright position, her once slender waist bulging over ratty sweatpants. “About time you got here.” She thrust the doll in Rose’s arms. “Sage kept me up all night last night. I really need a shower.”
Knowing from past experience it would do no good to correct Ginger about the true nature of the doll, Rose held it gently as she would a real baby. “I’m happy to watch her. Should I call a nurse to help you?”
Ginger waved her hand through the air and wrinkled her nose. “Useless, the whole lot of them. I’ll do it myself.” She walked to the closet and opened it, pulling fresh clothing from hangers that couldn’t be removed from the bar. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Take good care of Sage.”
At Rose’s nod, Ginger left the room. Things must have been going relatively well lately if Ginger wasn’t being locked in all the time. Although her mother seemed to be slipping further into her fantasies, the more real the fantasy became for her, the more sane she seemed.
Taking the doll with her, Rose left the room in search of a nurse. She finally spotted one coming from another patient’s room. “Excuse me. I’m Ginger Spellings’ daughter. Can you help me?”
The nurse’s hair was falling out of the ponytail behind her head and she looked frazzled. “What is it you need to know, Miss Spelling? I’ve been taking care of your mother this week.”
“Well, I noticed her room isn’t being kept locked. How have things been?”
She glanced at the doll. “Other than my having to babysit that doll in order to get your mom to eat or bathe, she’s been an angel this week. I’m really sorry, but two girls called in sick today, and it’s kind of a madhouse. Could you keep an eye on your mother for a while? A patient said Mister Carnit stripped off his clothes again, and I need to get him in his room.”
At Rose’s nod, the woman hurried off, presumably to capture the wayward streaker.
Within fifteen minutes, Ginger returned to the room. Her hair dripped against the collar of her clean shirt. “Give me Sage. She gets scared when she’s away from mommy too long.”