Authors: Rita Herron
No, she needed a lawyer.
Chad Marshall was representing Amelia, and he needed to hear her story so he could understand the entire situation when they found Amelia again.
The phone rang three times, then a man’s voice answered. “Chad Marshall speaking.”
“This is Sadie Nettleton. I’ve been arrested, Chad. Can you come to the jail, please?”
A heartbeat passed. “Are you with Amelia?”
“No, but it’s about her...and me. Please, Chad, I need to speak to you.”
“I’ll be right over.”
Sadie disconnected the call, then clenched her jaw as the deputy led her to the cell and locked her inside.
Jake felt numb as he stepped outside. For ten years, he’d prayed that his father was alive. He’d never believed that he’d run off with another woman.
But his father had once worked Special Forces in the service, and he’d told him about secret missions he’d been called for. In the back of his mind, Jake had hoped that that had been the case then.
He’d wanted his father to be a hero.
Sure, he’d been extra hard on Jake and Nick, especially Nick. And he and Jake hadn’t always gotten along. His father had practically ordered him not to see Sadie.
But he had been hell-bent on doing it anyway, because he was so damned in love with her. His father had a temper, but he also had ironclad control over himself, honed by his military background.
Of course, over the years he’d realized that if his father had gone on a mission, he would have returned or called at some point. Then the real fear had started.
How could Sadie have lain in his arms and made love to him, knowing that she and her family had deceived him?
He needed a quiet place to think. Hell, he needed to call Nick. No use in putting it off.
He punched in his brother’s number, his heart hammering.
“Special Agent Nick Blackwood.”
“Nick, it’s me, Jake.”
“Haven’t heard from you in years, and now twice in twenty-four hours?”
“I know,” Jake said quietly.
“If this is about the files you sent me, I’m almost to Slaughter Creek,” Jake said. “I spoke with a friend of mine in biowarfare, and I may have some information.”
“That’s good,” Jake said. “Although this isn’t exactly about the case.”
“Then what?” Nick asked bluntly.
“It’s about Dad.”
The silence was so loud, Jake could hear his own breath in the air. “What about him?”
“Just meet me out by the old mill at the river, and I’ll explain.”
“Jake?”
“Just meet me there,” Jake said.
There was no way he could tell his brother that their father had been murdered on the phone.
God help him. At one time, he’d even wondered if Nick had gotten in a fight with his father and killed him.
But now he knew the truth.
His brother hadn’t killed him. His girlfriend’s sister had.
He watched the sheriff leave the jail, a smile on his lips as he thought of Sadie Nettleton going to jail.
Goddammit, that girl had been trouble.
His phone jangled, and he glanced at the number. His pulse jumped as he answered it.
“Do you have the list of everyone involved in the project?”
“Yes. In my hands now.”
“We can’t take a chance on any of them remembering.”
“I know. I’ve been taking care of that.”
“You’ve also drawn suspicion. That local sheriff’s talking to the feds now. Called his brother, and he’s been asking questions.”
“How much do they know?”
“Too much.”
“Sadie Nettleton is in jail.”
“For what?”
“My guess is, covering up a murder.”
“Finally. How about her sister?”
“Still missing.”
“Find her. If she remembers, we lose everything.”
“She’s as good as dead,” he said. “And so is her sister.”
“What about the sheriff and the agent?”
He swallowed hard. He’d do what he had to do, just as he always had.
They would be casualties for the cause. They’d set the wheels in motion long ago.
It was too damn late to turn back now.
S
adie stared at the dingy cell walls, a desolate feeling overwhelming her. In the space of a heartbeat, she had lost it all. Her career. Her future.
Jake.
And no telling where Amelia was, or what was happening to her.
What if the man who’d attacked her and burned down her grandfather’s house had found Amelia? What if he had hurt her or...worse?
She closed her eyes, willing her connection to her sister to surface. Surely, she would sense if her sister was dead.
But she hadn’t known what they were doing to Amelia when they were children. Or that Amelia was upset enough with Papaw to shoot him.
The sound of keys jangling jarred her from her troubled thoughts, and she looked up to see Deputy Waterstone walking toward her cell, Chad Marshall on his heels.
The deputy unlocked the door, metal screeching as it swung open. “Your lawyer is here.”
Chad stepped inside the cell, his briefcase in hand. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, although she was far from okay, and he probably knew it.
He angled his head toward the deputy. “Could we have some privacy to talk?”
Deputy Waterstone raked his gaze over her, then gave a clipped nod and shut the door, locking them in together. “Just yell when you’re ready to go.”
Chad stepped in front of her cot. “Is it all right if I sit down?”
“Yes.” Sadie picked at a loose thread on the thin blanket on the bed, then scooted over to make room for him. “Thank you for coming.”
Chad covered her hand with his. “Sadie, look at me and tell me exactly what happened.”
She inhaled a breath to calm herself. Jake knew the truth now; there was no reason to hold back. “Ten years ago, I heard Amelia cry out from the guesthouse at the farm. She had been in and out of the hospital back then, and was suffering mental problems.”
“I remember,” Chad said.
Heat climbed Sadie’s neck. Of course he did. He had attended the same high school, knew the gossip, had probably witnessed Viola’s escapades.
“Go on,” Chad said.
“When I heard her screaming for help, I ran out to see what was wrong. Only she wasn’t alone. Jake’s father, Arthur Blackwood, was there. They were in her studio...no... were they running out?” Her mind blurred, the memory confused. Had they been in the guesthouse or outside when she’d found them? She seemed to remember it both ways.
Chad patted her hand. “What was he doing at your place?”
Sadie shrugged, stewing over the question. “I don’t know. He’d never stopped by before. Anyway, Amelia was hysterical. She said he was hurting her, and she shot him.”
Chad frowned. “What happened next?”
Sadie sighed, the images haunting her. “He was unconscious. There was blood everywhere.”
“Did you call an ambulance?”
“No—I tried to convince Papaw to,” Sadie said, regret filling her. “But Papaw said he was dead, that it was too late.” Her heart raced. “Amelia was out of control, had transitioned into one of her alters. We didn’t know what to do. We didn’t think she would survive prison, so we...” She hesitated, knowing how horrible her confession sounded. “Papaw and I helped her bury his body out by the old mill.”
Chad studied her for a minute, his expression unreadable. “Jake knows this now?”
She picked at the thread again, pulling it loose and watching it unravel. Just as her life had unraveled this morning. “Jake and I have been investigating the hospital. We found evidence suggesting that patients were mistreated, that two doctors who worked at the free clinic in town performed experiments on children at the sanitarium.”
“Amelia was one of these patients?”
“Yes,” Sadie said, her chest aching as she imagined how helpless her sister had been. Amelia had tried to tell Papaw, to tell
her
, but no one had believed her. “So were Grace Granger and Joe Swoony.”
Chad took a minute to let that digest. “Do you think Blackwood knew what was happening? That he was part of it?”
Sadie wound the thread around her finger. “I don’t know. But when Amelia talked about him hurting her, now I wonder if that’s what she meant. Maybe she saw him in the room with the others, or something.”
“Then we can argue that Amelia shot Blackwood in self-defense,” Chad said, his look brightening. “And I can probably make a deal to drop the charges of tampering with evidence against you.”
“Thank you, Chad.”
“How did Jake find out?” Chad asked.
Sadie rubbed her temple where a headache pulsed. “Amelia painted a picture and left it in the guesthouse,” she explained. “It made me wonder if she was trying to leave me a message.”
“What kind of message?”
“I’m not sure, but a man called me after I arrived in Slaughter Creek and said he knew what happened that night. He threatened to expose me if I kept poking around. Then I was attacked last night, and the man who attacked me burned down the farmhouse.”
“Good God,” Chad said. “Did you see who it was?”
“No, but afterward, Amelia’s painting was bothering me, and I had this bad feeling, so I drove out to the mill where we buried Arthur Blackwood.” Her stomach knotted. “I had to see if his body was still buried there. But when I dug up the grave, it was empty.”
Chad stared at her in stunned silence. A moment later, he stood, clutching his briefcase in his hand. “I need to talk to the judge about your arraignment,” he said. “Without a body or evidence, we may be able to get the charges against you dropped.”
“Except that I confessed,” Sadie said.
“Before or after Jake Mirandized you?”
“Before.”
“Hmm, I’ll see what I can do.”
Sadie latched onto the crumb of hope he offered.
But she knew that even without a body, what they had done was wrong, and Jake had been hurt because of it. Worse, someone knew what had happened, and wanted her dead.
Jake parked near the mill, next to the crime unit van that had already arrived. He introduced himself to the CSU team and led them to the grave site, then explained about his father allegedly being buried there.
The agent in charge was a man named Culvert. “We’ll be thorough.”
“Good. I want to know why there’s no body,” he said. “I’ve called in a federal agent to work the case. He’ll be here soon.”