Forgotten Sins

Chapter 26

Josie stretched awake in the hospital bed, her face tucked into Shane’s shoulder. His steady breathing lifted his chest, and she wriggled out of bed to stand alongside his quiet form. She stepped into her tennis shoes, running her gaze over him. Even in sleep, an intensity lived on his face.

No softness, even now.

This was the first time she’d ever had the chance to watch him sleep. He had always been alert, ready to jump into action before she even left the bed. The doctor must’ve prescribed something incredibly strong in his IV.

Early light filtered through the blinds, scattering dust mites through the air. Bleach and the scent of freshly laundered linens filled her nostrils. The low murmur of voices wound through the hallway outside.

Her heart ached. Love wasn’t supposed to hurt, and she guessed it didn’t. The pain came from the uncertainty of where she stood with the sleeping soldier, and the damn kill chip. Would it actually take him out?

The smell of coffee out in the hall made her stomach rumble.

She reached for her cell phone on the counter and tucked it into her back pocket. Brushing her hands through her tangled hair, she tiptoed into the hallway and headed for the vending machine at the end.

“Mrs. Dean.” Detective Malloy glanced up from his perch on a worn chair, where he was scribbling in his notebook. “Sleep well?”

Josie faltered. “Yes, thank you.” What the heck was he doing there?

“Good.” Malloy stood, sliding the notebook into his wrinkled jacket pocket. “We need to go down to the station and finish up with the paperwork.”

A nurse plunked coins into the vending machine, and a candy bar dropped to the open slot. She grabbed it and walked down to a large counter. Josie watched her leave, then turned toward Malloy. “Why? I already gave my statement.”

“I know.” Malloy gestured toward the elevator. “But not only did you shoot a man, there are enough holes in your story to have my superiors wanting to send me back to detective school. I just need one more interview to put this entire matter behind us.”

“But my husband…” Josie stumbled toward the elevator.

“Will be fine.” Malloy pushed the down button, his face softening. “I checked with his doctors. We should have you back by the time he awakens later today.”

The door slid open, and Josie sighed before walking inside. “My story isn’t going to change.”

Malloy raised a bushy eyebrow, poking the button for the parking garage. His gray suit sat frumpy and wrinkled on his large frame, but a shiny green tie brightened the entire look. Nothing brightened his hangdog face.

“Don’t you ever sleep?” Josie frowned.

“As soon as we file the paperwork on the shooting, I’m taking some time off. Thanks to you, we’ve solved a huge case, and I deserve a break.” The door slid open and he gestured her toward a brown nondescript car double-parked in a loading zone.

Josie hesitated at the car.

Malloy opened the front passenger door. “It’s cleaner up here.”

She slipped past him and sat, waiting until he had stomped around the car and settled his bulk in the driver’s seat. “Are you going on vacation alone?”

He grinned, the smile making him seem years younger. “No.” Starting the ignition, he backed out of the space, his gaze on the windshield. “But there’s nothing wrong with being alone.”

His scent of peppermint and tobacco wafted through the car in an odd ambiance of comfort. “Are you trying to tell me something?” She clicked the seat belt into place.

“Kind of. I like you.” He maneuvered the large car out of the garage into the main road. “You’re smart and spunky in a really cute way.” He turned left toward the police station.

Why were hospitals always near police stations? Josie shifted in her seat. “Um, thanks?”

“You’re welcome.” He turned his attention back to the busy road, barely skirting a red sports car switching lanes. “Women rarely listen to my advice, but I feel the need to give it anyway. I think you should leave the past in the past… and move on. Away from danger.”

The big bear was trying to protect her. “You’re very sweet.”

“I am not.” The detective snorted.

“Are, too.” But the man couldn’t see that Shane and his brothers were her safe place to land. She loved and trusted Shane more than she would’ve thought possible. The realization set her firmly on her course. No matter what they’d done, or who they were, she wanted to keep them. She needed them. Family mattered, and she finally had one. “Please don’t worry about me, Malloy. I promise I know what I’m doing.”

He nodded. “Fair enough. You do seem like a smart gal. We’ll get the final paperwork done, and I’ll make sure you have a ride back to the hospital. But if you ever need anything, promise you’ll call.”

“I promise.” She eyed him from the corner of her eye. “Nice tie. Another gift?”

A light flush filtered across the detective’s worn face. “Yes.”

“Really? Who from?”

Malloy was actually blushing.

He pulled into a parking spot in front of the two-story brick building. “Let’s go inside, Mrs. Dean.”

She jumped out of the car and followed Malloy through the bustling entrance, past several uniformed young men to the same conference room as her earlier interview. The cold metal of the chair instantly chilled her butt. “You gave me coffee last time.”

Malloy smiled. “The receptionist will bring some in after she’s off the phone.” He slapped his notebook onto the scarred table. His chair scraped across the floor as he pulled the heavy frame away from the table before dropping his bulk down. His deep brown gaze settled on her face. “So. Please explain to me how your fingerprints ended up on the dead body of Billy Jones.”

Shane struggled to rise to consciousness. Bleach and medicinal plastic scented the air. Drugs. His blood pumped slower, his brain fuzzed. The doctors had drugged him. Probably class A narcotics—good painkillers. But something in the back of his head insisted he awaken. He needed to wake up.

But the drugs pulled him under. The dream caught him unaware, and he slid into it, accepting the return of memories.

In this dream he was an adult.

He sat against the trunk of an old pine tree, his legs extended before him, his gaze on the training field. The dusty field of hell where he’d learned to fight, where he’d learned to kill.

Matt and Jory sat with him, their gazes hard on Nathan as he beat the hell out of another soldier. Fist to flesh, blood spraying to stain the dust red.

“We’re sure Audrey was working with the commander?” Jory had asked, wiping blood off his chin from his training session.

Matt nodded. “Yes. Nate found proof—and she confirmed it just before several of the blue team were terminated.”

Some of those men had become good friends—especially to Nate.

Jory plucked a lone blade of grass from the beaten earth. “We need to go. Now.” His face tightened as Nathan threw the other soldier a good six feet across the field. Raw rage and pain cut deep into the hard lines of Nate’s face. “Something bad is coming, and we all can feel it.”

“This is the first time we’ve all been here at the same time in years.” The first time the damn commander and his scientists couldn’t extort them into killing in order to keep the other brothers alive. Usually at least two of them were out on missions at any given time.

Shane studied his brothers. Of them all, Jory and Matt looked the most alike. While they all had the odd gray eyes, only Jory and Matt had pitch-black hair. He wondered once again if the two shared the same mother. Or if any of them did. He focused on Jory. “Can you do it?”

“Yes.” Jory hopped to his size fourteen feet. His shoulders blocked out the sun. So much bigger than the scrawny brainiac Shane had protected many years ago. “I can take care of the entire computer system, if you can blow this place to hell.”

“The commander will come after us.” Matt stretched to his feet, his focus on the tight form of the man standing to attention at the edge of the field watching Nathan. “I’ve got the commander, but what about Emery?”

Dread slid through Shane. “You going to kill the commander?” Could Matt kill the man who’d trained them? Even now, even as an adult with so many kills behind him, Shane still sometimes thought the commander invincible. Pure evil.

“Yes.”

Jory shook his head. “Emery deserves a chance. He was raised in this hellhole, too.”

Shane rubbed the scar on his forearm that Emery had gouged with a bent paperclip when Shane was six. Two years older and just plain mean, the brown-eyed Emery was a favorite of the commander. “Emery is crazy and evil. I say we take him out, too.”

“No.” As always, Jory looked to the side of fairness. “None of us were given a choice. We fight or our brothers die.” He glanced toward the computer center near the barracks. “Emery deserves a chance at freedom. To get his brothers to freedom.”

Matt rolled his shoulders. “It’s probably a mistake, but I agree. We let Emery live.”

“For now,” Shane agreed. “You know they’ll come after us, right?”

Matt turned toward him, pure hardness on an already hard face. “Then it was stupid of them to train us so well now, wasn’t it?” Anticipation lit his eyes on fire.

“Jesus.” Shane stood. “Do you really think one of us can kill the commander?”

Mattie lifted his chin. “I started planning his death the day I turned twelve.” Without another word, he turned toward the field to stop Nate from killing the other soldier. This time.

Shane jolted awake in the hospital bed. His head pounded. Jory. So damn smart, how the hell had he died?

The scent of wild berries filled Shane’s nostrils. Josie. He glanced around the room. Thick sun poured through the blinds, showing the hour to be about noon. The rattle of carts sounded outside in the hall. Where had Josie gone?

Josie cleared her throat, stretching her neck. “How did you get my fingerprints, Detective?” Her mind spun. What now? Should she ask for a lawyer? Nathan had already flown out of town to wherever. Not that he was a real lawyer.

Detective Malloy sat back in his chair. “I took them off the coffee cup from the last time you sat in that seat.”

“Humph. That’s not legal.”

“Sure it is.” He leaned forward, tapping a gold pen on his notepad. “Mrs. Dean, I know you didn’t kill Billy. I’ve been a cop long enough to know you’re one of the good ones. Just level with me, would you? Let me help you out of this mess.”

Josie studied his earnest eyes. She took a deep breath. Where the hell had she left her fingerprints? On the phone, but Shane had grabbed that. On Billy’s belt when she turned him over? Maybe. “Where were the prints?”

Malloy sighed. “It doesn’t matter. Just tell me what happened so I can get you out of here and somehow keep my job.”

“Fine. A man named George pushed me off the elevator to the ninth floor of my office building. He was working for Max Penton and wanted my files. I ran from him to hide in the room with Billy’s body.” Josie sucked in air. “Then he came after me, so I hit him and ran.” No way would she bring Shane and his brothers into this.

Intelligence lit the detective’s dark eyes. “Are you all right?”

His concern warmed her. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you report the kidnapping or the dead body?”

“I was scared.” Maybe Malloy had the same ingrained instinct to help that Shane did. Why not give it a shot? “I got away, but I knew George would come back after me. I thought Shane had already left town. I’m alone, Detective.” She lifted her chin to meet his gaze as she lied. “You’ve been after my husband since day one. I figured Billy would be found by the construction crew, and I could just stay out of it.”

Malloy blew out a frustrated breath. “Was your husband with you on the ninth floor that day?”

“No. Shane wasn’t involved at all, Detective.”

“Man, I wish you would let me help you.” Malloy’s upper lip quirked. “Yes, well. Billy was clearly laundering money for a drug dealer, and as you’ve said, Max admitted he killed the guy.” A knock sounded on the door, and Malloy called, “Come in.”

The receptionist, a forty-something redhead with curved hips under a tight pencil skirt, hurried into the room to set down two steaming coffee mugs. She yanked a file out from underneath her arm. “Detective Malloy. Here’s the file you requested.”

The scent of gardenia perfume competed with the warm coffee smell.

Malloy sat forward, accepting the file. He tugged on his tie, while a fine blush wandered across his beefy face. “Thank you, Ms. Smyth.”

“Anytime.” She patted his shoulder, turned on three-inch heels, clipped toward the door, shutting it with a sharp snap.

Malloy flipped open the file.

Interesting. Josie sat back, letting a smile play on her face. “Ms. Smyth is pretty.”

Malloy jolted, lifting his head. “Hmm. I hadn’t noticed.” He glanced at the papers spread out before him.

Oh, he was just too cute. “Liar. She has nice tastes in ties.”

Malloy lifted an eyebrow, and then a wide grin slid across his face. “She has even better taste in men.”

“Yes, she does.” Josie smiled back.

“Do you think perhaps you’re clinging on to a life that doesn’t exist? I mean, you’re throwing your life away for a man who will destroy you?” Malloy’s eyes softened.

The kernel of truth in the possibility cut deep. “Are you about to turn into a bully, Detective Malloy?”

His expression didn’t change. But his jaw tightened. Ah. He didn’t like that thought. Yet the cop wasn’t the only one in the room who could dig under the surface. She’d navigated a scary world all by herself her entire childhood.

“Definitely not. I won’t bully you, Mrs. Dean.” Malloy rested his elbows on the table and exhaled loudly. “I really do want to protect you. I can. Let me help.”

“How?”

“Tell me the truth about your husband—was he there that day?”

She shrugged. “No. George came after me for Max’s files, told me that Max had killed Billy. I believed him.”

“How did you get away from a killer?”

She smiled sadly. “I’m a survivor, Detective, and I got away from him the same way I kept Max from killing me.”

Malloy gave a short nod of acknowledgment. “Tell me about your husband.”

“You know as much as I do.” Josie glanced at her watch. “Shane was a marine, and he disappeared for the last two years.” No way would she tell the detective about Shane’s life or the danger that stalked him. “I don’t know where.” Ironically, neither did Shane. Yet. She’d also meant it when she’d told Matt they were family. Her concept of the word might be colored by need, but she’d protect both him and Nathan from discovery. “I have nothing new to add.”

Malloy studied her and then shook his head. His chair scraped the concrete as he stood. “Good enough. Are you sure you want to go back to the hospital? I can have a black-and-white take you anywhere you want to go.”

“I’m sure.” She brightened her smile to reassure him. “Trust me. I’ve got this covered.” And she did. Almost losing Shane to a bullet had made her realize she’d fight for him and for their future. They’d figure out the kill chip, and they’d move on together. It was time to get hold of her husband and explain their future. He was going to trust her, and she was going to love him. Forever.

It was as simple as that.