Reasonable Doubt (4 page)

He had to find the tape. Even if it meant sacrificing Justin and the twins to get it, he wouldn’t go to jail. He couldn’t.

The vinyl weight bench stuck to his bare back as he pushed the barbell up.

Breathe in, bring the weight down. Breathe out, push it back up. In…out. In…out. For the first time in his life, he felt as if he was in over his head. The whole situation was driving him nuts, and his stomach burned all the time—enough to keep the antacid companies in business. Ironically, all those nerves had given him the push he needed to get in the best workout he’d had in a month.

His gut clenched again. He had to find that videotape before anyone else did.

Breathing heavily, he sat up on the weight bench and grabbed his water bottle off the floor next to him. The tepid liquid soothed his dry throat, but nothing could soothe the anxiety gripping him night and day like a vise. Sweat trickled down his back. Amelia should never have tried to force his hand. Slamming the bottle to the floor, he lay back on the bench.

In…out. In…out.

Memories assaulted Justin as he stepped inside the cabin. Memories of tanned legs and dripping wet hair from summers spent swimming in the creek with Keri. As close as their two families had been for the first fourteen years of their lives, Justin could well imagine he and Keri might have ended up married, continuing those summer traditions into the next generation. If only things hadn’t unraveled that summer his parents died. Regret slashed across his heart at the possibility of what might have been.

Keri’s voice brought him back to reality. “Dad, you remember Justin Kramer, don’t you?” She sounded as carefree as if she didn’t suspect him of murder.

The joy brightening Mac Mahoney’s lined face was unmistakable and warmed Justin more than the roaring fire in the fireplace. “What kind of a question is that? Of course I remember him.” Tears glistened in faded green eyes as the grizzled older man wrapped his arms around Justin. “It’s good to see you, boy. Good to see you. Been too long.”

“Yes it has.” When Mr. Mahoney turned him loose, Justin reached for the twins. “I’d like you to meet my sons, Billy and Josh.”

Mac smiled and winked. “No one would ever guess you two are related.”

Billy returned his grin.

Josh sneered. “Like we’ve never heard that one before.”

“Josh!” Justin scowled. “You owe Mr. Mahoney an apology.”

The boy shrugged. “Sorry.” But his face didn’t reflect remorse.

“I’m sorry. Josh and Billy lost their mother recently. These last few months have been difficult.”

Keri’s dad waved aside the apology, his eyes alight with sympathy. “Don’t worry about it. I was just about to whip up a batch of my famous donuts.” He cut a glance at the boys. “Anyone interested in helping me out?”

Billy’s face lit with a wide grin. “Yes, sir!”

Mac smiled back, then focused on Josh. “How about you?”

The boy’s eyes showed interest, but in an obvious attempt to maintain his churlish manner, he shrugged again. “I guess.”

Justin held his grin in check.

“Great!” Mac rubbed his hands together. “Keri can show you where to put your coats. Come into the kitchen after your hands are washed.”

“Follow me, gents,” Keri said and walked toward the bedroom.

As soon as the boys were out of the room, Mac eyed Justin, studying his face as though trying to put his finger on the situation. “What brings you to our neck of the woods?”

Though his body had aged and his shoulders had stooped a bit over the past fifteen years, Keri’s dad appeared to have retained the instincts that had caused him to hold the position of Briarwood’s chief of police for as long as Justin could remember.

“The boys and I just needed to get away for a while. I hope you don’t mind me just showing up. I didn’t
think anyone would be here.” As soon as he spoke the last words, his face warmed. If Mac and Keri hadn’t been here, he’d have been breaking and entering.

Mac seemed to ignore that, still he peered closer. “You bringing trouble with you?” Mac squinted, his eyes demanding the truth.

“I don’t think so.”

Keri’s dad nodded, but his expression remained stoic. “Does this ‘need to get away’ have anything to do with your wife’s death? Raven works for a TV station in Kansas City. She called us when it first happened.”

“Yes. I found her…in our house.”

He arched a wooly gray eyebrow. “You guilty?”

“No, sir.”

He would have liked to explain. To make Mr. Mahoney believe that he was still the same boy he’d treated as his own son all those years ago. That he wasn’t capable of such a crime. But voices carried back into the room, signaling Keri and the boys’ return.

Mac gave him another studied look. “We’ll talk about it later.” He headed for the kitchen without waiting for Justin’s response. “Follow me, boys. I got sidetracked catching up with your dad, so you can help me grab the ingredients out of the cabinets.”

The boys followed, their quick easy steps indicative of their relief to be in a lighter atmosphere. Guilt shrouded Justin, and for the first time he found himself second-guessing his decision to leave town. Innocent men were found innocent in most cases. What would happen if a warrant had already been issued for his arrest and Keri Mahoney of all people had to take him
in? A throat clearing caught his attention, and he jerked his gaze from the kitchen door to Keri.

She motioned for him to take a seat on the rustic, woodsy-printed couch.

“Thanks.” He walked into the sitting area and dropped into cushions, running his hand over the stubble covering his jaw.

Keri shed her jacket and tossed it across the arm of the chair next to the fireplace. Silence loomed, a thick black cloud of tension, as she wordlessly grabbed the poker and pushed at the glowing logs. Justin watched the sparks shoot up the chimney. She tossed another log into place, situated it just right, then replaced the poker on the stand. She turned to face him.

As their eyes met, memories rushed back to him on a wave of yesterday’s dreams. This was the girl he’d loved for the first fourteen years of his life. The one he very well might have married if things hadn’t gotten so fouled up.

The way she stared at him, he could imagine she was having similar thoughts. She cleared her throat. “So…”

“Listen. I don’t expect to talk about the good old days.” Justin gave her a lopsided grin.

“Good. It’s probably better for us both to keep our past friendship out of this whole situation.” With a heavy sigh, she plopped into the chair next to the fire and kicked her legs up to the ottoman.

“I didn’t do it.” Suddenly, it became very important that Keri believe him. And whether they discussed the past or not, it was there…simmering on the edge of both of their minds. If she remembered him at all, she just couldn’t believe that he’d take a life.

“Look, Justin. It’s not my job to determine whether
you’re guilty or not. It’s my job to take you in if a warrant has been issued. If your boys weren’t with you, I’d handcuff you to something to make sure you don’t run. I’m trusting your integrity to keep you here.”

“I already told you. I’ll let you arrest me if you have to.”

A spark of the Keri he remembered returned in the stubborn jerk of her chin. She leveled a stern gaze at him. “I don’t need you to
let
me take you anywhere. I’m a trained officer of the law and if I say you’re going in, you are.”

Justin’s eyes flickered over her petite frame and he couldn’t resist the grin tipping the corners of his lips.

Anger sparked Keri’s eyes. She shot to her feet and leaned over him, filling the air between them with the combined scents of peach-scented soap and wood smoke. “Listen, Kramer, don’t test me. I don’t want to cuff you unless it’s absolutely necessary, but I will if you force my hand.”

He could see she was dead serious, and it only struck him funnier. Laughter started low in his throat and, try as he might, there was no stopping it.

Red splotches appeared on her neck and freckled face, and sparks shot from her green eyes. “Stop laughing!”

“I’m sorry,” he said, fighting for air. “You’re just…so cute.”

“That does it.”

Before Justin could contain his mirth and take charge of the situation, Keri sprang into action, twisted his arm to the side and slapped the cuffs on one wrist. In practically one motion, he found himself with one hand cuffed to the wooden arm of the couch. Keri stood
over him, breathing heavily, but smug with victory. Her hands rested on her slim hips, and she raised her brows, her green eyes daring him to laugh now.

Anger bit into him like a vice. “All right,” he ground out, “you’ve made your point. Let me go.”

Her shoulders rose and fell with an exaggerated sigh. “You know what? I’ve been up for more than twenty-four hours. I went to work early yesterday because a drunk wrapped his truck around a telephone pole and nearly killed a group of kids. I sat listening to that same drunk whine about his rights all night while I tried to get paperwork done.” She stretched, then covered a wide yawn. “Then just when I was about to head out and start a much-needed vacation, I find you on Krahoney Road—suspiciously, I might add. So I think I’m within my rights to handcuff you until I know if you’re running from an arrest warrant.”

“Well, I’m sorry to add to your stress,” he drawled, “but I’m the one they’re accusing of murder.” He scowled. “Wrongfully!”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Let me go, Keri. I don’t want the boys to see me like this.”

“You know my dad will make dozens and dozens of donuts and donut holes. Your boys will be glazing for hours.” Keri grabbed a crocheted afghan from the chair and tossed it over his arm, concealing the metal constraints. “Perfect. I’m going to go and shower, then I’ll probably take a nice long nap. If you behave yourself, I might release you when I get back.” She threw him a victorious grin and sauntered away, leaving him scowling after her.

“You know, you’re stomping all over my civil rights! I could sue you!”

“Go ahead,” she called over her shoulder. “The line forms behind Junior Connor.”

Whatever that meant. Defeated, he twisted around and swung his legs over the side of the couch. It felt good to stretch out after several tension-filled hours in the car. He adjusted the afghan so that it covered his arm and shoulder, then spread it over the rest of him. Relaxing in the toasty warmth of a wood fire, Justin closed his eyes. He felt his chest rising and falling in slow even breaths just before he drifted away into the precious comfort of sleep.

Keri leaned into the shower’s spray, resting her hands flat against the tiled wall. She winced. Partly from the blast of hot water and partly from the memory of her encounter with Justin. She’d taken him completely by surprise, but what if he’d been ready for her? Would she have been able to take him?

The thought frustrated her and filled her with self-doubt. What kind of chief of police would she make if she couldn’t even arrest a prisoner just because he had ten inches on her and a good fifty pounds?

And blue eyes to die for.

Still…despite the same charming grin and sincere eyes, she didn’t really know him anymore. He might be anything. Even…well…a murderer.

The problem was that her heart didn’t want to believe it. She wanted to believe that the devastatingly good-looking man of her dreams, who seemed to be a wonderful father to boot, was everything she remembered. And more. The dismal reality was that he could
quite possibly be a sociopath who’d murdered his wife, felt no remorse, and could probably pass ten lie-detector tests, all the while planning his next murder.

She shuddered, even as her heart rejected the notion.

The water went from too hot to freezing by the time she soaped up, rinsed off, washed her hair and grabbed a towel. Shivering, she dried off and dressed in comfy sweats and headed for the door. When she stepped into the hall, the aroma of fried donuts drifted between the wooden walls, beckoning her toward the kitchen. Try as she might, she couldn’t keep herself from peeking at Justin as she walked through. He was stretched out on the couch, the afghan discreetly covering the handcuffs.

A lump formed in her throat at the sight of him, sleeping peacefully, like a man with nothing to hide. She snorted and turned. Or a sociopath with no conscience!

Willing away thoughts of Justin, she pushed through the kitchen door and stopped short at the sight of the two boys working diligently to glaze a batch of cooled donuts while her dad stood, back to them, lifting more from the boiling grease.

Billy popped a donut hole into his mouth, licked his fingers, then glanced up. His guilt-clouded eyes widened when they lit on Keri. Silently, she lifted her brow, attempting a stern expression of reprimand. He held out a donut, hung by one sticky finger, and pressed the other index finger to his lips.

An obvious attempt to buy her silence.

Pretending to consider the proposition, Keri rested her hands on her hips for a second, then she looked him square in the eye, winked and nodded. She reached for
the goodie. Hesitating only a moment at the thought of how many times the kid must have licked his fingers without being caught, she nevertheless took a bite.

“What are you doing, Keri-girl?”

Keri jumped at her dad’s voice and she stopped chewing, hiding the rest of the donut behind her back.

“What kind of example is that setting for the boys?” he demanded. “Stealing donuts right out from under my nose?” The twinkle in his eyes belied his tone, but Keri played along for the twins’ entertainment.

“You’re right, Dad,” she said solemnly. She set the donut on a napkin and headed for the fridge. “I’ve set a horrible example, and I’m sorry. How could I ever have taken a bite of this delicious donut…without first dunking it in milk?” She held up the gallon jug and the boys giggled. She set it on the counter, grabbed four glasses and began to pour.

Mac Mahoney grinned and winked at Josh and Billy. “You boys about ready to sample our cooking?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Alrighty, then.” He laid a napkin in front of each of them, next to their milk. “Grab a donut from the plate and let’s start sampling!”