You're the One That I Want (31 page)

Signe shrugged. “Depends.”

“I get that too. I know what it’s like to go home alone, night after night. To watch other people get the romance, the long walks on the beach, someone to actually care about you and deal with the messy and ugly mistakes . . .”

Scotty took a sip of her water. “I know what it’s like to have no one to turn to, to talk to when life feels overwhelming and alone.”

“Do you have a point?”

“I’m just saying that if someone did come along who cared, it would be hard to ignore him.”

“Do you want a burger or something?” Signe said, pulling out her order book.

“Cheeseburger. Owen says that you know how to doctor them?”

“He always liked them with mayonnaise and lettuce, pickle, onion, no tomato.”

“Perfect.”

Signe walked away and Scotty wanted to bury her face in her hands. Okay, she couldn’t pinpoint exactly where all that had come from but . . .

She wasn’t so different from Signe. Alone, wary. So lonely that she had fallen for a guy she barely knew. And if Owen hadn’t turned out to be the opposite of the criminal he looked like, then . . . she might be way too deep into a mess she couldn’t escape.

Signe came back. “I forgot to ask. Fries or onion rings?”

“Signe, I keep thinking back to what you said about Monte.” She gentled her voice. “Did he ever hurt anyone you knew?”

A flash of pain on her face. Bingo.

“Signe, did Monte hurt
you
?”

She swallowed. “People didn’t understand him like I did. He . . . he wasn’t always mean. He could be a charmer when he wasn’t drinking.”

“And when he was drinking?”

She reached up, flicked her finger across her cheek as if wiping a quick tear. “I take back what I said. He
didn’t
deserve to die in a hole in the ground.”

All Scotty’s instincts flared to ask her how she knew
that
tidbit of information. But she slowed down. “You know something about how Monte died, don’t you?”

Signe yanked her arm away, headed to the kitchen. Scotty hopped off the stool, running after her. “You don’t live that far
from where he died. In fact, you’re about the only one who lives up there
 
—”

“Leave me alone.” Signe disappeared into the kitchen.

Scotty noticed one of the patrons look her way, start to slide off his stool. She ignored him and pushed into the kitchen. The smells of sizzling burgers, the fry bins, onions, and fresh tomato assaulted her. She needed food, and soon.

“You can’t be in here.” Signe was reading one of the tickets. Or pretending to, because tears ran down her cheeks. “Go away.”

If Scotty were back home, she’d simply order Signe to come to the station, and there, put the screws to her. Because Signe definitely had information about Monte’s disappearance and . . .

But Scotty wasn’t at home. Here she had no jurisdiction. No rules to fall back on.

Just . . . her gut. Instincts. Even impulses.

“Signe. Casper Christiansen is going to be indicted for a crime we all know he didn’t commit.”

“How do we know that? Monte hated him for taking Raina away.”

“How did that make
you
feel? Because you loved Monte, didn’t you?”

Signe’s mouth tightened to a bud of anger.

“And the fact that Monte pined for Raina must have killed you.”

“I just didn’t get it. Raina was a tease and had Casper’s baby. Why would Monte want her?”

Scotty didn’t correct her. “So after the fight that night, you decided to remind him of that, didn’t you? You probably saw how drunk he was and got worried about him. Maybe you even saw Casper and Monte talking in the parking lot. It was late that night. Maybe you were just getting off work?”

She wiped her cheek. Shrugged.

“And with Casper threatening him, you knew he needed someone.”

She grabbed a napkin. “He was really upset and yeah, drunk, and I was worried about him. So I told him I’d take him to my place . . .”

When she looked at Scotty with such sadness in her eyes, Scotty saw herself. Alone. Sad. And while Signe filled her world with flirting and empty hookups, Scotty filled hers with . . . danger. Work. Anything she could to get her mind off how lonely she felt all the time.

Until now. Until her life had suddenly gotten messy and big and . . . happy.

Really happy.

“What happened, Signe? You said he was only mean when he drank.” Then she got it. “Did he see Casper’s necklace around your neck and lose it?”

Her voice turned low, broken. “I forgot it was there. I remember talking about it, but I didn’t know he knew who it belonged to. And he just grabbed it. It was leather
 
—it wasn’t going to come off, not easily.” She pressed a hand to her mouth. “He was choking me. I don’t know how I got away. I remember the thong breaking off my neck. But it was dark, and I just ran and hid. . . . I headed up to Twin Pine Point. I knew he would think I went to the cabin but . . .”

Signe gave a quick, broken shake of her head. “I was so scared. I heard him come up the path, and suddenly he was there, standing over me. He grabbed my arm, so much anger in his eyes
 
—I don’t even remember thinking, just reacting. I hit him
 
—I had grabbed a rock, and I just . . . hit him. He fell back and I ran. I heard him yelling for me. And then . . . he screamed. It was terrible, but I was so afraid that I took off and went back to the VFW, slept in Schmitty’s office. I figured Monte would hike back to town. And
when he never came back in, I thought he’d left town. I had no idea that he’d . . .” She started crying again. “I should have gone back for him! I keep thinking of him there in the ravine, dying in the darkness. Alone. Cold. Scared.”

For a second, Scotty was there too, imagining him broken, hurt. No one to rescue him.

She found her arms around Signe, awkwardly hugging her, her words soft. Kind. “Shh, it’ll be okay.”

She spotted Schmitty, spatula in hand, looking over at them. Scotty offered him a wan smile.

Then she found the cop inside. “Signe, you have to give a statement to the court.”

Signe pushed her away. “Are you kidding me? They’ll accuse me of murder, just like they did Casper. And I don’t have a family like the Christiansens to stand beside me, tell the world I’m innocent. I’ll go to jail
 
—”

“No, you won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m going with you. You’re not in this alone.”

Not in this alone.

She completely understood the way Signe stared at her. Disbelieving.

“Have a little faith, Signe.”

Have a little faith, Owen.

Crazy how those five words could light so much hope inside him. And not just that Scotty’s theory would somehow materialize into a miraculous answer that exonerated Casper, but also . . .

That she might actually have . . . faith.

Wouldn’t that be something? God using a guy who’d given up on life, on faith, to ignite it in someone else?

Owen looked at his father, seated in the gallery behind Casper at the defense table, and his words rushed back to him.
God is constantly using broken, messy people to restore the world and bring Him glory.

Oh, he longed for that. To be someone God could actually use, a guy with purpose again. A guy with a long-term contract with the winning team.

“All rise,” the bailiff said, and Owen found his feet next to the rest of his family. He glanced at the clock on the wall.
Please, Scotty.

He sat down as instructed, wiping his suddenly sweaty hands on his pants. Down the row, his mother had his father’s hand in a tight grip.

Casper had showered, shaved, and wore the suit his mother brought him. He sat next to Bryce, his jaw clenched.

“This is simply an evidentiary hearing,” the judge was saying. “Mr. Christiansen, after it is determined whether to hold you over for trial, then you may consider your plea.” The judge looked at the papers on his desk. “We will also, at that time, take into consideration, if necessary, the complaint and request to revoke your current bail.”

Raina bounced Layla on her lap, the little girl sucking on her fist and playing with her stuffed bunny. She leaned over and grabbed at her shoes, the bunny falling to the floor.

Owen picked it up, handed it back to Raina. She smiled at him, her expression strained.

He should offer to hold Layla, maybe.

The prosecutor stood and began to outline the charges against Casper. “We’re asking for a charge of voluntary manslaughter. We
will show that although Casper Christiansen had no prior intent to kill, he acted in the heat of passion in such a way as to leave Monte Riggs fatally wounded.”

Owen checked the clock again.

“The state will show that Mr. Christiansen had motive, means, and opportunity by exploring his violent history, his relationship with the deceased’s former girlfriend
 
—”

Yeah, even Owen felt the prick of those words.

“
 
—a previous assault charge, and witnesses to an altercation on the night in question. We will also show the familiarity of Casper Christiansen with the location of Mr. Riggs’s body. Finally, we’ll produce physical evidence that puts Mr. Christiansen at the crime scene, as well as show his attempt to flee the crime.”

“Your Honor
 
—” This from Bryce, who’d driven up from Minneapolis that morning. “This evidence is at best circumstantial. It’s not a crime to have an argument with someone. More, Monte Riggs had a history of threatening the accused’s girlfriend, and we are on record with a restraining order taken out
 
—”

“Two days after the deceased went missing,” the judge said. He put on his glasses as he considered the documents the prosecution delivered. Silence fell over the courtroom, Owen’s heartbeat in his ears.

“Mr. Christiansen, do you have an alibi for the time period in question?” The judge looked up, and Owen wanted to bounce to his feet, say something
 
—anything.

Even confess to a crime he couldn’t have committed. Because Scotty was exactly right
 
—Owen would go in Casper’s place if he could.

Now Owen sank his head into his hands as Casper quietly answered, “No, Your Honor. I went for a drive to cool off.”

The judge nodded. “Very well.”

And Owen knew, just knew, what would come next.

“This case is weak at best, but it is
 
—”

“Please!” Owen was on his feet, holding on to the railing in front of him. “Please don’t do this. He’s innocent, I swear it. But he’s got this little girl, and he can’t go to jail and
 
—if anyone goes to jail, let it be me. I’m the one who screwed up. If it weren’t for me, Raina wouldn’t have gotten pregnant and Casper wouldn’t have . . . we wouldn’t have . . .” Oh, he had the sense that he was making it worse because the judge stared at him, his eyes dark. But as usual, Owen’s mouth couldn’t stop. “Casper and Raina would have never been apart and Monte wouldn’t even have been in the picture
 
—”

“Sit down. Or I’ll remove you.” The gavel banged and Owen felt a hand on his arm. Eden, tugging him down.

But
 
—“Your Honor, please!”

“Bailiff
 
—”

Owen held up his hands. “C’mon, don’t do this.”

His father stood. “Your Honor, just listen. He doesn’t mean any harm
 
—he just cares about his brother.”

And then Darek moved to stand in front of Owen. “Don’t you touch him.”

“Everybody calm down.” Jace loomed over them all.

“C’mon, Judge, are you serious?” Max, behind him, having his back.

Casper, now standing too, turned. “Owen, let it go!”

Layla started crying.

“Leave my brothers alone!”

The voice, high, sharp
 
—and new
 
—echoed from the back of the room.

Everyone froze.

Except of course, the bailiff because he had no idea that Amelia Christiansen had suddenly appeared, from Africa, in the Deep Haven courtroom.

“Amelia
 
—what are you doing here?” Ingrid scooted out from the bench, pulling her daughter into a quick embrace.

Owen just stood there, breathing hard, his gaze darting between the bailiff, who now had him by the arm, and Amelia. Wow, had she really grown that much? Beautiful, with her long auburn hair, a tan, and a new confidence about her.

And behind her, what, her chaperone? Because he looked about five years older, dark hair, lean, tall, and wearing a solemn look as he put his hand on Amelia’s shoulder.

“Who’s that?” he said to Raina.

“That’s Roark, remember?”

“I don’t remember.” During their Skype call, Amelia had seemed more interested in hearing about his return and Casper’s arrest. “Someone left him out of the picture.”

“Oh, he’s definitely in the picture now. Especially after he chased her across the ocean and apparently back,” Raina said, trying to soothe Layla.

As he watched, Roark shook John’s hand.

“Order!” This from the judge as the bailiff wrestled Owen out of the row, turned him around.