Finding Justice (13 page)

Cat glared. Had she ever sounded so damn chipper when looking
after their mum?

“Well, don’t you just sound fine and dandy,” she said
dryly.

He laughed. “So? Is that bad?”

“Yes, it’s bad. What have you done with Mum? Taken her to the
Severn bridge and tossed her over?”

“Well, isn’t that nice. Don’t you trust me?”

She ignored his question. “Why are you so happy? What’s going
on? Do I need to come home?”

“Will you stop? Mum’s fine...well, coherent anyway.”

Cat closed her eyes as her pulsed throbbed at her temple.
“Great. I suppose you’re getting a feel for how hard it is now, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

Cat blew out a breath as his silent apology whispered down the
line. “I’ve been doing my best to keep her sober for the last six years since
you moved out. It’s not easy, is it?”

“No, but I’m here now.”

She stared toward the forest. “It hurts to hear you smiling
through this, Chris. It makes me feel...useless.”

“You’re not useless. You’re amazing. These past three days have
been hard, Cat, and I’ve only just got here. I think you’re amazing and you’ve
done your best...which doesn’t make what I’m going to say next any easier.”

Cat turned her back to Jay’s land and stared at the house
instead. She pursed her lips together, scared to say more, scared her brother
would sense just how lost and helpless she felt. Or how, deep down, she burned
with envy for his happiness, his future and his whole damn life.

“Are you there?” Chris’s exhalation rasped against her ear.

“Yes.”

“Mum is in the grips of something neither you nor I can help
her with. When I checked in with you from time to time, you never said things
were this bad. Why? Did you think you could fix this alone?”

Cat clenched her jaw. “Of course I didn’t. She begged me.
Begged me not to tell anyone, including you. She drinks, then she sobers up,
then she drinks some more. It’s a damn roller coaster and when you look after an
alcoholic you love, you’ll do anything to protect whatever scrap of dignity they
have left. It’s not black-and-white.”

“I know that. At least, now I do.”

“You’ve come in at the tail end.” She shook her head. “When you
look at Mum now, you’re seeing the now-or-never moment. Alcoholism happens so
slowly, you barely notice it until one day you come home from work to find your
mother asleep in her own vomit.”

Silence. Cat screwed her eyes shut and willed her racing heart
to slow. Everything she’d held in check poured out. All the hurt, the pain, the
disappointment, the helplessness rolled around and around and flew from her
mouth in a ball of desperation. She bit back a sob.

“I want a life. I want to find someone like you have. Want to
plan my own wedding one day.”

“And it makes me happy to hear you say that, because that’s
what I want for you, too. There’s no right or wrong way for either of us to
handle this. Mum needs to be in rehab.”

Cat pressed her fingers to her closed lids. “I don’t think I
can abandon her. Not after all these years of trying to get her sober.”

“You think you’re abandoning her? Come on, Cat. You’re a cop.
You know there are situations best left to the professionals. That damn pride of
yours is getting in the way of what’s right for Mum.”

She opened her eyes and drew in a shaky breath. Jay was walking
around the open-plan kitchen, clearing up their dinner of takeout Chinese. She
probably had fifteen minutes, tops, before he came outside.

“Look, I can’t get into this right now. I’m not down here on
holiday. I’m trying to find out who killed one of my best friends. Sarah
was—”

“Sarah. Damn it, where’s the letter?”

Cat frowned. “What letter? What are you talking about?”

“Hold on.”

Crunching and shuffling of what sounded like papers being
tossed aside filtered through the line.

“Chris, what are you doing?”

“Got it.”

“Got what?”

“The letter I assume is from Sarah.”

“What?” Trepidation dropped like a stone into Cat’s stomach.
She turned her back to the house and gripped the balustrade. “You’ve got a
letter from Sarah? But—”

“It’s postmarked four days before you left, and as you’ve been
speaking to Jay on the phone for longer than that, I knew it wasn’t from him.
I’m assuming Sarah wrote it before she died.”

“That means someone had it for a week before mailing it. Open
it right now and read it to me.”

CHAPTER TEN

C
HRIS
CLEARED
HIS
THROAT
theatrically, and Cat rolled her eyes.
Her nerves were stretching to breaking and her pulse hammered with trepidation.
Sarah had written her.

“Dear Cat,”
Chris read.
“This is Sarah. It’s been far too long since we’ve spoken and
now this silence is something I can’t believe either of us allowed to
happen. You are my best friend. Always have been. But so many things have
happened over the past seven years I can’t begin to explain everything in a
letter.

“I need to see you, Cat. Desperately. I’m
in trouble. Big trouble.

“I know it’s wrong of me to expect you to
help me after all these years of no contact, but please, please come to the
Cove. Things are escalating at a rate I can no longer control and I’m
scared. Scared that by the time you read this letter, I’ll be
dead.”

Chris stopped and sucked in a breath. “Oh, my God. She knew,
Cat. She knew someone was after her.”

Cat squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her hand to her stomach.
“Keep reading, Chris. Don’t stop until the end.” She glanced toward the cabin.
Jay met her gaze and she waved. He waved back and then continued cleaning
up.

Chris cleared his throat once more. “Okay, where was I? Ah,
right. Okay.
Once I have finished writing this letter, I
will make a final bid to change things. To stop you being involved. But
right now, I don’t know who else he’ll listen to. You are my last
hope.

“I am praying that between us, we can
convince him he has to give himself up and stop the madness.

“Drugs are an evil, evil thing, Cat. They
ruin lives.

“For now, I’m just begging you to come.
I’ve taken fifty thousand pounds of his money as ransom. He has to listen to
me. He has to. He has to stop what he’s doing. With his money gone, I hope
he understands my desperation. I’ve hidden it on Cowden Beach. When you get
here I will tell you where and my lover’s name. It’s too dangerous to tell
you now.

“I love him so much, I’d leave the Cove
tomorrow for him, Cat. I want us to get married, have a family.

“But if I’m dead when you get here, it’s
imperative you find the money. I’ve left his name with it as evidence. He
told me he would kill me. He has to face a trial if he takes my life. I love
him, but my parents deserve to know I still believed in justice despite the
stupid decisions I’ve made in the name of love. If I’m dead, it’s my lover
who killed me. I love you, always, Sarah.”

The seconds beat hard in Cat’s head as silence hummed down the
line. After a long moment, she heard Chris draw in a heavy breath. She opened
her eyes as thoughts and scenarios ran riot in her head. Sarah must’ve been so
scared. Confused. Ashamed. Alone. Not knowing which way to turn. Who was this
man? This lover? She’d known he would kill her. She had actually known her life
was in danger.

“Cat, are you still there?” Chris asked.

“I’m here.”

“What are you going to do?”

What
was
she
going to do?
“I don’t know. I need to think. Look after Mum, okay?
I’ll call you.”

“Cat...”

“I’ll call you.” She snapped her phone shut and stared out into
the night.

Sarah had written Cat the same day she’d asked Jay to meet
her...the same day she’d died. Regret sped Cat’s heartbeat, and helplessness
crawled over her shoulders. It was likely that Sarah would’ve phoned her, too,
if she’d had an up-to-date number to call. An old-fashioned letter had been her
terrified friend’s only option because of the years that spanned silently and
unnecessarily between them.

Somehow they had allowed contact to waver. If they hadn’t...
Cat shook her head. She couldn’t go there.

Jay. Jay was an addict. Sarah mentioned drugs. Wanting to marry
this man. Was it Jay? Was Jay her lover? Revulsion knotted her stomach and Cat
sucked in a breath against the pain that slashed her heart. No. Tears burned her
eyes. She couldn’t think that. She wouldn’t allow herself to think that until
she was forced to.

Her heart beat painfully as she stared blindly ahead.
Jay...

Cat shook her head.
Focus. Focus on the
facts.
What had caused the delay in mailing the letter? Why had it
not reached the mailbox until over a week later?

Cat closed her eyes. God, this was hopeless.

Was Sarah’s lover a close friend or colleague? Jay? Or someone
neither of them knew? Sarah had wanted this mystery person to leave Templeton
Cove with her, but was it for his safety rather than love? Cat gripped the phone
tighter.

Their friend had called out for her and Jay, and they’d failed
to get there in time. The cop in Cat told her that was no coincidence. Was her
killer possessive enough—or guilty enough—that keeping Sarah’s best friends at a
distance had been his most important mission?

Cat stared out into the darkness. If the killer found out about
the letter, he could have intercepted it. A paper trail could be followed. Did
he send it anyway, making a huge and vital mistake? What happened that day, a
week later?

Questions whirled in a kaleidoscope inside her head and a slow
ache pulsed at her temple. She raised her eyes to the millions of stars above
and counted her breathing. In for three, out for five, in for three, out for
five. She stared at the breathtaking phenomenon of the Templeton Cove sky at
night. A blanket of black velvet punctured with stars and a crescent moon,
bright and dazzling white, a magical scythe close enough to touch.

She lifted her hand as though intending to pluck it right out
of the sky.

“You’ll never catch one.”

Jay’s voice seeped into the silence, deep and smooth.

“Hey, you, what took you—” Her heart lodged in her throat,
cutting off her words and a wave of violent nausea lurched in her stomach. He
stood in silhouette, holding two bottles of wine by their necks in one hand and
the stems of two glasses in the other. Two bottles of wine. Her gaze went from
his face, to the wine and back again.

Someone with Jay’s addictive background shouldn’t be drinking.
The fact he had two bottles was a pretty clear indication he didn’t have any
intention of stopping at one.

“What are you doing?” Her mind raced as goose bumps erupted on
her arms. Why hadn’t she considered that Jay might not take drugs anymore but
could easily be using something else as a crutch? The counselor had warned her
about the same outcome if her mum ever became ready for treatment.

He stopped. “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like
that?”

Raging disappointment gathered momentum and burned like acid in
her stomach. “Like what?”

“Like I’m about to attack you or something.” He stepped into
the amber light cast by the glow of the lamps dotted around the veranda. His
teasing smile dissolved. “My God, are you crying? What happened? I saw you on
the phone—”

“Why have you got wine? Was the water you served for the last
two nights a way to lull me into a false sense of security? Now I’ve been with
you awhile, now you’ve kissed me in the damn forest, you think it’s okay to get
hammered?”

“What?”

She dipped her head toward his hands. “The bottles, Jay. The
two
bottles.”

“These?” He held them up. “It’s these making you look at me as
though I’m Freddy Krueger?”

“Yes. It’s exactly that.”

His shoulders slumped and his brow creased. “Cat, you’re going
to have to help me out here.” He stepped closer and she stepped back. His
eyebrows lifted. “What have I done? I thought we could have a glass or two under
the stars, that’s all.”

She swallowed against the lump in her throat and wiped her
fingers beneath eyes that wouldn’t stop running. Raw, biting hurt hummed over
the surface of her skin as she stared at him. What was she supposed to say? How
was it fair she’d left behind one addictive personality only to travel hundreds
of miles to be faced with the same thing in Jay?

Her initial anger seeped from her bones, leaving her defeated
and weak, emotions she felt all too often around her mum. “Should you really be
drinking?” She quietly slipped back into the familiar, if unwelcome, role of
addict support.

His frown deepened. “Should I be drinking?” His jaw tightened.
“I don’t drink. The real stuff is for you and the fake stuff is for me.”

Cat started. “One of those is non-alcoholic?”

“Uh-huh.”

Her breath left her lungs in a rush and she covered her face
with her hands. “God, I’m sorry. I’m such an idiot. I thought...”

He stepped close and pulled her hands away. “You are an idiot,
but you’re my idiot, so it’s okay. I’ve been sober a long time and I’m never
going back down that road, so you can relax.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions like
that.”

He smiled. “Don’t be. I love that you care enough to want to
slice my balls off if I ever touch anything again.”

Relief swelled her heart with love and respect for him. She
looked into his gorgeous brown eyes and his sincerity stared back at her in all
its cocoa-colored glory.

“Still, I had no right—”

“Enough with the apologies, Sergeant Forrester. I imagine
clearing up Friday night drunkards makes most cops a little edgy around alcohol.
You’re entitled to a little wariness.”

She dropped her gaze to the planks of wood at her feet.
“Exactly.”

Seven years ago she couldn’t hide anything from him and feared
the same would be true again. Jay knew her like she knew herself and in a life
partner that was a good thing...but in a friend you’d soon say goodbye to, it
wasn’t. Getting anything but the truth past him made her feel like a rabbit
trying to get past a bloodhound.

“Hmm.”

She looked up. The concentration in his gaze as he studied her
stripped Cat bare and heat warmed her face. “What?”

“It’s more than the wine, isn’t it?” He leaned his body toward
the small bistro table beside them. The bottles and glasses clinked against its
wrought-iron surface as he set them down.

His gaze returned to hers. “Well?”

Panic thumped in her ears. She couldn’t tell him about her mum.
She couldn’t let him know what she was dealing with at home. Shame twisted like
a tornado inside her after all the admiration he’d bestowed on her. Guilt that
sometimes, like right then, she wanted to run home, far away from him, and deal
with her mess without having to look at him and see the desire for her to want
him in his eyes. She needed to sort out her personal problems herself. Help her
mum recover herself.

They weren’t together. They were separate. One a cop, the other
a suspect.

No more Cat and Jay. No more Jay and Cat.

“Cat?” His gaze bore into hers.

“It’s just... I can’t.” She blew out a breath. “Can we talk
about Sarah? That’s the most important thing right now.”

He stared for a moment longer before walking to the table and
sitting. When he reached for the wine, Cat joined him at the table.
“Non-alcoholic for me, too.”

His gaze lingered on hers, intense but kind. “Hey, you can
drink around me, you know. I don’t mind.”

She struggled to keep her gaze steady with his. “I know that. I
just don’t like alcohol. I’d prefer the non-alcoholic stuff.”

He shrugged. “Sure.”

He filled their glasses and they drank, their gazes locked
above the rim. He winked, sending Cat’s stomach into a violent frenzy of lust
and longing. Their kiss at the forest had been sensational, her body willing to
take the moment so much further. It had been scary and right all at the same
time. She’d had lovers, occasional as they were, but nobody came close to
causing the barrage of physical sensations inside her Jay had—and did.

Her gaze wandered over his handsome features, the smooth curve
of his jaw, down over the strong masculine neck to the solid ridge of his
shoulders. The sight of him pushed an unexpected lump into her throat.

“You’ve done well for yourself,” she said quietly. “I’m proud
of you.”

He smiled and took her hand. When he lifted it to his lips, Cat
watched him press a lingering kiss to her knuckles. “Thanks.”

They fell into silence and he looked out over the veranda. His
face relaxed in thought. She took a sip of her wine with her free hand, wanting
him to keep hold of the other. If he held her, she couldn’t run away. They might
well have a significant lead to Sarah’s killer with her letter, it might be the
thing to clear Jay from her professional wariness and into the realm of
innocence she hankered for.

All too soon she’d return to Reading where her mum needed her
and when she left, she didn’t want it to be with him in handcuffs.

As time passed, who was to say her heart wouldn’t become his
again? Her passion for him was growing at a rate so fast it made her head spin
and her common sense seep from her pores on a sea of hopelessness. He turned and
lowered his glass to the table.

“So, do you want to tell me who was on the phone?” The concern
in his voice brushed over her skin like silk. “Is everything all right?”

Putting her glass on the table, Cat shook her head, refocused.
“No. No, it’s not.”

He frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“I was talking to Chris.”

“And?”

Cautiously, she ran her gaze over his face, prepared for a
reaction she hoped she didn’t see. “He had some news for me. News that puts
Sarah’s death in a clearer light in some ways, a dimmer light in others.”

He leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

“Sarah wrote me a letter the day she was killed. It wasn’t
postmarked until a week after she died.” She stared. “Do you know anything about
that?”