Games of Zeus 02- Silent Echoes (7 page)

“Could you have a certain brother do some forensic science magic?” Emma asked.

Ian blinked. “You do know Michael’s going into med school, right? Not morgue work?”

“He’ll have friends who need to
pay
for med school, right?” Tripp asked.

“Yeah, but—”

“Ooh!” Emma’s eyes brightened. “I just remembered.” Emma pointed toward the wall. “Sherrill has the photos. I’ll give her a call.”

Sherrill.
The woman who’s grandparents had lived in Lexi and Tripp’s home before them. The woman who held the key to the beginning of Lexi and Tripp’s relationship—to the unwinnable game that Tripp managed to outwit.

Why does this feel like a lead I don’t want to know about?

• • •

Tripp may have wanted Ian to research Tanner Meadows, but Ian needed to know why, how and what force had tattooed him with a mark that matched the woman who plagued his dreams, his life, his very soul.

At the very least, he needed to detach her since he’d spent countless sums of money trying to get the design off, with no success. He’d tried salt water to fade it. Over the counter removal creams. Even went to a professional laser center, and five thousand dollars later, the lines hadn’t faded a bit. In fact, to Ian’s eye, they’d darkened.

Every search Ian ran pulled up the same information on the markings. No matter the browser, the same sights appeared and reappeared, telling him exactly what he already knew.

Four chances.

He and Taylor seemed to be on the fourth.

The fourth what, though?

Some of the information pointed to success or love. Another article, written by a self-proclaimed psychic, suggested whatever had been the greatest conflict in the life—during the first time phase—would return repeatedly.

Through all of Ian’s life, nothing had happened more than once.

“As they say, lightning doesn’t strike twice in one spot.”

Ian continued his search, having only half-believed the man he’d talked to before, but that niggle in the back of his mind made him want to know if any truth could be hidden
between
the crazy-assed psychic mumbo-jumbo and reality. Somewhere in there, he’d find the details. He just needed to reach the right person.

After two hours, he’d come up with nothing new, and a mounting frustration.

• • •

Flat against her mattress again, Taylor stared at the ceiling. She reached out, touched the concrete slab above her and let the pads of her fingertips run across the bumpy texture. As the panic set in, she bit it back, digging her teeth into her lip. Her body tensed. Her stomach curdled. With the exception of the first morning, she had managed to keep the closed-in feeling that came from four people in a room the size of a tin can at bay.

Just a touch of claustrophobia
, her pediatrician, family doctor and therapist had all said.
There is no rationale to many of the mind’s inner workings
, they’d added. Taylor’s list of issues had grown enough that she hadn’t been the girl her mother always dreamed of having. Instead, she’d fought off her problems by diving into a career that kept her busy from sunrise to sunset, seven days a week.

She flipped to her side and heaved a breath.
I can get through this. I will get through this.

“You doin’ okay up there?” Tanya’s voice carried in the near silence. With the exception of Tanya, Taylor’s bunk mates had been replaced again.

Murderers, whether suspected or not, seemed to get priority in one area only—not being moved.

“I’m okay. Thanks.” At the edge of the bed, Taylor twisted a loose screw until she tightened it enough that her fingers wouldn’t make it go further. If she didn’t get something useful and productive to do soon, her head would self-combust from pure boredom.

“You know.” Tanya broke the unending silence. “That lawyer of yours is hot.”

Taylor chuckled. She and Tanya had built up a trust in each other, to the point Taylor knew Tanya’s choice to kill her boyfriend, while wrong, seemed justified. That she’d pled guilty kept her in the local facility—though for how long she’d stay, neither Taylor nor Tanya knew. Overcrowding meant moving to other facilities, but Tanya’s sentence had yet to be given.

“My lawyer’s married.”

“She hot like him?”

Another small laugh bubbled up in Taylor. “She’s beautiful.” Taylor worked to secure the screw again.

“When they gettin’ you outta here?” Squeaking came from the bunk below.

Taylor’s arraignment hadn’t even happened yet, she had no idea. Delayed, they’d said. Three days. Three times. “I wish I knew.”

7

“A million dollars? Who do they think she killed?” Ian stood with Lexi in the hole-in-the-wall barber shop that also took care of bail bonds, check cashing, and sold cigarettes at outlet prices. “I’m gonna lose twenty percent doing it this way. Why can’t I just put up the money on my own?” The whine of his own voice forced Ian to take a breath and stop.

“Tripp told you it’s safer to go through a bondsman than paying it direct anyway.” Lexi, in her heels and professional suit, leaned a hip into the front counter. “And, it’s not like you don’t have it, Ian. Geez. You and Tripp have been at this partnership long enough that he wouldn’t ask you if it were more than a drop in the bucket.”

She had a point. Didn’t mean he had to like it. The man behind the counter continued filling out a legal-sized document by hand as if he hadn’t heard a word. Ian thumped the front panel with a closed fist. “Tripp ought to be ponying up his own cash.
Your
cash, I must add.” Ian raised an eyebrow, hoping to throw Lexi off course. “Or don’t you trust him?”

Lexi gave Ian ‘the eye’ back. “I’d have been fine with it. But doing so would be unethical for him since he’s her attorney. Besides … an overnight of research, to me, suggests you have your own interest in his client.” She pinched his bicep.

“I never said that. In fact—” The stink-eye glare Ian gave her in return didn’t even make her flinch.
Damn woman.
Even as he thought it, he huffed a breath. “You’re setting me up, aren’t you?”

“Why would I do that?” A twitch seized the side of Lexi’s mouth.

“Son of a bitch, you are! What else did you find in your little lookie-see of those bones and pictures?”

Lexi didn’t budge.

“All of ya’ll—oh, God.” Ian slapped his forehead. “Michael was right. I really have been down here too long.”

The clerk whistled. “You forgot occupation on this form.”

Ian spun to him. “You believe this shit? I’m all happy in New York, hanging out with my bro—” He wrote ‘Treasure Hunter’ on the form and turned it back. “—and this one’s—” Ian pointed to Lexi. “—husband calls me back with a lie that we had a gig, and it turns out … it’s a woman in jail—”
Mental note to shut the fuck up, Ian.
“—because they want to set me up with a criminal.”
And every time I bring this up, I sound like I’m trying to convince myself.

Clerk Bob shook his head back and forth in slow motion, shaking a finger in Lexi’s direction.

“Worse, he cons me into the racket and makes me post her bail. That’s just not right.”
You didn’t shut up.

The man held up his fist.

Ian bumped it. “See, Lexi? Dammit? It’s not just me who thinks this is weird.”

“Actually,” the clerk started, “sounds to me like you’re justifying it to yourself.”

Fuck. I knew that was going to bite me in the ass.
“You’re a therapist now, too?”

The guy pointed to a sign on the wall. It said:
All services have a price. Advice is free. If you take it, and it fails, it’s not our fault. -Management
.

Ian snorted a laugh.

“What he didn’t tell you …” Lexi angled her head toward the clerk. “… was that he met this girl almost six months ago while she was renovating my house, and then sorta kinda hooked up with her at my wedding and hasn’t dated since that time, yet he’s not known for being alone more than, oh, say one or two nights a week.”

The man turned to Ian. Went back to Lexi. “Sorry, dude. She wins. That’s the kind of girl shit that trumps all the other stuff.”

“I don’t do love at first sight.” Even as Ian said it, his heart pounded in his chest. He patted it. “Sorry, heartburn.” The goofy grin on Lexi’s face gave Ian pause. “Aw, hell, no.” Ian wagged a finger at Lexi. “It’s not happenin’. I came … to help …
a friend
.”
Who isn’t even that.
“An acquaintance. Of your husband. Not mine. Acquaintance, that is. Not husband.”

Lexi chuckled.

Ian would have run a hand through his hair if he had any. Or pulled it out. One of the two.

“Well,” their bondsman said. “Give me that deposit, that deed on the New York apartment, and you’ll be that much closer to on your way.”

Ian handed both over, just as Tripp suggested he do.

“In the meantime,” Lexi said, “I think I know a way you can stop this emotional roller coaster you’re on.” Her hand landed on Ian’s shoulder.

“How?” He really did want to know.

“Oh, Ian.” Lexi shook her head. “Just let nature take its course this time.”

Sure. Right. Okay. How?

• • •

“Taylor Marsh!” one of the guards called out.

She slid from the bed and stood as her cell mates did the same, each taking her place in the box so the prison guards would be able to see them, in case any tried to bolt or attack or whatever they expected.

Keys jangled as the guard stuck one into the hole and turned. “Marsh. Come with me.”

Taylor tensed.

Tanya clapped Taylor on the shoulder. “I hope this is it, and I never see you again. And if I don’t, and you get to exact your revenge, do it Tanya style.” Her eyes sparkled even as her hands stayed still—another rule as they stood with the door open. “Go out with a bang.”

“Thanks, T.” She held out her fist.

The guard stiffened, and a rifle aimed her way.

Tanya bumped it and gave her a nod. “Good luck, girly-girl.”

Taylor tugged at her coveralls.
One foot then the other, Tay.
“Sorry, ma’am.”

“Hands out,” one guard said while the rifle-holding guard repositioned her weapon.

Cuffs clicked around each of Taylor’s wrists.

“To the first door.” The guard motioned her forward.

She found Hough waiting for her in a small, white-walled room. “Miss Marsh! So good to see you, girl!” Taylor couldn’t hold back the grin. “This is your day. Yours, yours, yours.” Hough wagged a finger at Taylor. “Didn’t I tell you?”

“What’s going on?”

“In your case, nothing.” She pulled her keys from her belt and clicked them into the cuffs as Taylor’s heart fell to her stomach.

She rubbed at her wrists. “Am I being moved?”

“No, shug. We’re settin’ you free of our fine establishment here. I’m to discharge you into your bondsman’s capable hands.”

• • •

Taylor’s welcoming committee stood at the release desk while the first of two interior, electronically-operated doors buzzed.

Open. Wait. Close.

Open. Wait. Close.

The open space of the lobby sent relaxing waves through her body. The freeze came when she made eye contact with Ian.
Why did Tripp have to bring him?

Ian.
When they’d talked throughout the renovation of Tripp’s house, his voice brought warmth to her soul. When she finally met him at the wedding, she’d thought she might have a heart attack. When he’d shown up at her home, her body had reacted. Every time—different sensations—yet they’d barely talked, let alone spent any time getting to know each other. She didn’t understand her own reaction to him.

With a firm resolve, she stepped forward, touching the top of her hair as if a pat-down would help.

Taylor shuffled her way closer to the trio. “Thank you for coming.” Tripp gave her a nod, Lexi a pat on the shoulder. Ian said nothing, a clear scowl etching lines in his smooth skin. “No one told me why I didn’t have to go to court.” She tugged at the hem of her shirt, straightened her jeans. “Am I off—”

“Out, not off,” Tripp said. “You’d already been in past the maximum forty-eight hours, the judge asked for a plea, I said ‘not guilty’, he set a bond, and there you have it.”

Taylor flitted her gaze between Tripp and Ian. “Bond?” she asked.

The two men turned to each other and back to her. “It’s taken care of,” Tripp said.

Oh, God, please don’t have called my parents. If they had, they’d be standing here. No, not them … Riley.
A brief smile nudged her lips. Riley always took care of her.

“So …” Tripp broke the silence. “You’re a suspected murderer, Taylor, and, of course, the press knows. So, be prepared for a barrage when we step out.”

She nodded.

“There will be no comments; no speaking at all.”

She gave him one, final definitive head nod.

“Ian, Lexi and I are here to surround you and keep people from getting in your face. Nothing’s been officially released to the news, so of course, they know everything. And quite a few have been parked outside your house now for days. So, we go through, get to the car and leave.”

Taylor scanned the faces of the people with her. “Where are we going?”

Ian stuffed his hands in his pockets. Tripp’s gaze leapt to the opposite side of the room. Lexi bit at her lip.
Oh, God, please don’t make me call my mother. Stop thinking like that. Just call Riley.

“Home is off limits until they finish their investigation.” Tripp pulled keys from his pocket. “So, for now, unless you have a better place, you can stay with us.”

“Thank you for the kindness.” She may not have agreed with her mother often, but Taylor believed in true southern hospitality.

“All right then, let’s go.” Tripp aimed an arm toward the courthouse doors.

The midday sunshine brought life to Taylor’s senses as the microphones and camera flashes, the questions and people in front of them prevented a quick escape. “Taylor Marsh, is it true you were convicted of murder in Alabama?” “Did you kill your former boyfriend?” The voices rushed over one another with dozens of questions she couldn’t decipher, and sent a throb to Taylor’s temple. “How can a two-time felon be let out even on a one million dollar bond? Do you think the justice system has done its job?”