Page 137 of Whispers of You
Holt pressed a kiss to my temple. “Tomorrow. I’ll go with you.”
“Thanks.”
He rapped on Lawson’s door, and the chief immediately told us to come in.
As we stepped inside, Lawson smiled. “It’s good to have you back here.”
“It’s good to be back.” The words weren’t a lie. Because as hard as it had been to walk into this space, it was wonderful, too. It reminded me how much people cared about me. How many I had on my team.
Lawson gestured to the chairs. “Have a seat. You want something to drink?”
We both shook our heads.
Lawson settled back in his desk chair. “I won’t beat around the bush. The district attorney has charged Jude with accessory to murder and three counts of first-degree murder.”
I swallowed, trying to clear the lump in my throat. “Is he talking?”
“Only to his lawyer. But Randy turned chatty the moment he found out that Jude tried to frame his little brother. Apparently, Jude was the mastermind ten years ago. He got Randy and Paul thinking about payback with all the people who had supposedly wronged them. He was the one who came up with the plan and told them to steal Randy’s father’s guns. They kept quiet because they got a thrill out of us missing one of them.”
Holt’s hand tightened around mine. “Jude was using them as cover for what he really wanted.”
Lawson nodded slowly. “Looks that way. And we can only guess he did the same with Amber.”
“It twisted her, what happened to her brother,” I said quietly.
Lawson studied me before he spoke. “Trauma can do that, especially when you don’t have the right support around you afterward. No amount of punishment would ever be enough for her. Because it would never take away her pain.”
A heaviness settled over me. So much hurt. Destruction. Death. And it was a vicious cycle that never seemed to end.
“It feels hopeless.” And I hated that feeling.
A knock sounded on Lawson’s door. He straightened in his chair. “Someone has wanted to talk to you. I hope it’s okay that I told him to meet us here.”
Confusion furrowed my brow, but I nodded. “Sure.”
“Come in,” Lawson called.
The door opened, and Joe Sullivan hovered in the threshold. He had dark circles under his eyes, but his hair wasn’t quite as disheveled as it usually was.
Holt tensed at my side and glared at Lawson.
“Have a seat, Joe,” Lawson invited, ignoring Holt’s flare of anger.
Joe swallowed hard but moved to the couch Lawson had pushed against the wall in his office. He sat, clasping his hands, his nails digging in.
No one said anything for a few moments.
I shifted in my chair and turned to face Joe. “Are you doing okay?”
His head snapped up at that, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he spoke. “I wasn’t there to hurt you.” He swallowed again, glancing at Holt. “I’m sorry I shot at you. I couldn’t see who was chasing me. I thought it was the shooter.”
Holt’s jaw was hard, but his tone stayed even. “Why were you there?”
Joe’s eyes sought me out. “My brother was good to me. Made sure I had food and that my dad didn’t beat the crap out of me.”
My heart clenched.
“But he wasn’t good to other people. I know that.” Unshed tears glistened in his eyes. “You didn’t deserve what happened to you. And you were always so…nice. It would’ve been easier if you’d treated me like trash. But you never did. You always said hi and smiled like you were happy to see me.” Joe took a deep breath. “I didn’t want anything else to happen to you.”
