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Jodi couldn’t have argued that her alcoholic father hadn’t been in any shape to murder two people, one of them sheriff at the time. That’s because the DA had successfully argued that Travis could have gotten drunk afterward.
And yes, her father did have motive.
Bad blood between him and the Becketts. Feuds over land and water rights that had been going on before Jodi was born. It had created the perfect trifecta for law enforcement. Her father had had the means, motive and opportunity to butcher two people and then turn that knife on Jodi when he thought maybe she’d witnessed what he had done.
She hadn’t.
Because of the blasted tears she’d been crying over Gabriel’s rejection, she hadn’t seen anything. She’d barely had time to hear the footsteps before her attacker had clubbed her on the head and started stabbing her.
“Have you considered the reason you don’t remember your attacker’s face is because you blocked it out?” Gabriel asked a moment later. “Because it was too traumatic for you to see the face of the man that you thought loved you?”
Jodi had to take a moment to try to tamp down the panic rising inside her. No way could she believe that.
“My father never confessed to the murders,” she pointed out.
“That doesn’t mean he didn’t do it,” he countered and then huffed. No doubt signaling an end to an argument they’d been having for a decade. He looked at the email again. “You gave a copy of this to the FBI?”
She nodded, annoyed that it was a question. “Of course I gave it to them since they’re the ones who handled this investigation. With you and your brother’s help, of course.”
In fact, Gabriel’s brother, Jameson, had pretty much spearheaded the case in the beginning. Not that anyone had been dragging their feet. No. Everyone seemed to be racing toward any evidence that would result in her father’s conviction. But Jameson had been a key player in getting that guilty verdict.
“I just wanted to make sure you didn’t withhold anything from the FBI,” Gabriel added. “Because they need to see any and all threats, so they can put a stop to them.”
Jodi’s annoyance went up a notch. Gabriel was talking down to her. Talking to her as if she was a criminal. Or an idiot. “I know you don’t think much of what I do for a living, but I’d have no reason to keep something like that to myself.”
He handed her back the email, his gaze connecting with hers again, and she got another dose of his doubt.
Gabriel definitely didn’t think much of what she did. Consultant for Sentry, a private security firm. Many cops thought that Sentry toed the line when it came to investigations.
And sometimes they did.
“I don’t wear one of these,” she said, tapping his badge, “but that doesn’t mean I’m not out for justice just like you, Jameson and your deputies.”
“Justice at any price,” he argued.
She shrugged, trying to make sure she didn’t look as if that’d stung a little. “Repeating my boss’s motto—the law isn’t always justice.”
“Hector March.” Gabriel said her boss’s name as if it were profanity. To him, it was. “Is he out of jail yet?”
That was another jab. And another sting. “Yes. And for the record, what Hector did was definitely justice. The illegal video surveillance he set up eventually led to the arrest of a pimp who was known for beating up his girls. He used his fists to do whatever he wanted, and now he’s been stopped.”
There was too much emotion in her voice now. Too much emotion inside her, as well. It was hard to rein in the feelings of being powerless against a much stronger attacker, but Jodi had had a lot of practice doing just that.
“The pimp would have gone to jail eventually through legal means,” Gabriel growled.
It was probably the truth. Probably. But Hector had made it happen a little sooner than the cops could have managed it.
“If I can save one woman from getting beaten or killed, I’ll do it,” Jodi insisted. “And yes, I’m overidentifying.”
She waved off any other part of this discussion that might happen because she’d admitted that. It was obvious Gabriel and she were never going to agree when it came to Sentry, Hector or her job. Jodi also didn’t want to keep talking about something that couldn’t change. She’d nearly died. Had the scars to prove it. Nothing was going to undo that.
“You blame me for what happened to you.” Gabriel threw that out there like a gauntlet.
She turned toward him so fast that her neck popped. Jodi wanted to say no, that she didn’t. Better yet, she wanted to believe it. But she didn’t. Not completely anyway.
“I know in here it wasn’t your fault.” She touched her fingers to her head. “But everything that happened that night has gotten all rolled into one tangled mess inside me. A mess that involves you, me...and the killer. I don’t want to include you in that nightmare, but it did begin with you, and I can’t just forget that.”
“Yeah,” he said and looked away. Gabriel always looked away whenever the subject of attraction or sex came up between them. And despite her near murder not actually being about sex, it was sex that had started it all.
Or rather, lack of sex.
“You were nineteen,” he reminded her. “Too young to be with me.”
Obviously, his mind had hitched a ride on the exact train of thought as hers. “I was an adult.”
“Barely. You were also one of my kid sister’s best friends. And I was five years older than you. There’s a world of difference between a nineteen-year-old college student and a twenty-four-year-old deputy sheriff. Legally, you weren’t jailbait, but that still didn’t make being with you right.”
It was his old argument that she knew all too well since it was the same one he’d used the night of the attack. She’d been staying in the Beckett house, a guest of Gabriel’s sister Ivy, who at the time was also her college roommate. Around 10:00 p.m., Jodi had walked the less than a quarter of a mile distance between the Becketts’ and Gabriel’s place, the house left to him by his grandparents. And Jodi had done that for the sole purpose of seducing Gabriel.
It hadn’t worked.
“You turned me down,” she said under her breath. Thankfully, it didn’t sound as if she still carried a decade of hurt. But it had certainly hurt then. Simply put, Gabriel Beckett was the only man she’d ever wanted. It was ironic, though, that after the night of the attack she’d never wanted him or another man again.
She silently cursed. That was a partial lie. A lie she could feel now that she was standing so close to Gabriel. Much to her disgust, she still wanted him.
“Sex is a commitment,” she mumbled. “That’s what you told me when you turned me away,” Jodi huffed. “Which wasn’t the truth since you had sex with half the women in town, and you didn’t commit to any of them.”
He said something under his breath that she didn’t catch. Then, something she did catch. Bad profanity. “Why did you really come here? Because I’m not buying it that you’re here just to remember. Are you trying to draw out the person who sent you the email?”
She didn’t deny it. Jodi did indeed want to draw him out in the open and put an end to this once and for all.
“He could just shoot you,” Gabriel reminded her.
“I don’t think so. I think he wants his hands on me again.” Just saying it nearly made her gag. “I won’t be the victim for the rest of my life.”
“Then start by not being here.” Gabriel paused and glanced around. The kind of glance that a lawman made as if checking to make sure no one else was there. “You’re not the only one who got a threatening email.”
Everything inside her went still. “Who else? You?”
Gabriel nodded. “All three of my siblings, too. Jameson, Ivy and Lauren.”
Jodi hadn’t needed their names. She’d grown up next to the Becketts and knew them well enough to know their birthdays. Now, of course, they were her enemies. Enemies who’d apparently gotten death threats.
“What’d the emails say?” she asked.
Gabriel drew in a weary breath. “Almost the same as yours. Except for mine. The threat was, well, more explicit. Probably because I’m the sheriff now.”
Jodi tried to process that. “What possible reason would my father have to send threats like this?”
“I’ve given up trying to figure out why killers do what they do.” He hesitated again. “But I’m leaning more toward a copycat. There are a lot of sick people out there, and the story got plenty of press. With the tenth anniversary coming up in three months, I believe it’s bringing out the lunatics.”
“So, you think the emails are empty threats?” Jodi hated to sound disappointed. Hated even more that she was disappointed that it might be true. It sickened her to think the truth had already played out.
And that her father had left her for dead.
“Copycat threats aren’t always empty,” Gabriel corrected. “That’s why I don’t want you out here. Not alone anyway. If you want to try to jog your memory again, call me, and I’ll have someone meet you.”
Jodi probably should be insulted because she was an expert marksman and trained in hand-to-hand combat. She could protect herself.
Probably.
And it was the fact that the probably was not a certainty that kept her up at night.
She turned, ready to head back to her car, but something caught her eye. Some movement in one of the second-floor windows. Gabriel must have seen it, too, because he stepped in front of her.
And he drew his gun.
Jodi pulled her weapon, too. “Should there be anyone in the house?” she asked.
“No.” That time he absolutely didn’t hesitate, and Gabriel started toward the porch. “Before you jump to conclusions, it’s probably just a teenager out for a stupid thrill. Or maybe a reporter. Either way, you should go to your car now.”
“Just in case it turns out to be something more than a teen or a reporter, I can back you up if you’re going inside.”
Which he apparently was.
Gabriel didn’t turn down her offer of backup. Didn’t order her to her car again, either. Maybe because he figured she could be attacked while heading to the road. It was obvious he was thinking this was more than just a false alarm. Of course, after those threatening emails, Jodi doubted there was anything false about it, either.
Mercy. Was the killer here?
That sent her heartbeat racing, the sound of it throbbing in her ears. The memories came. Too many of them too fast. She had to force them back into that little box she’d built in her mind. This was no time for a panic attack. Not in front of a killer.
Not in front of Gabriel, either.
He took slow, cautious steps, his gaze firing not just to the window but all around them. “I’m Sheriff Gabriel Beckett,” he called out. “You’re trespassing. Come out with your hands in the air.”
Nothing.
It was hard to hear because of her racing pulse and the breeze rattling through the live oaks, but Jodi thought she heard someone moving around inside. There were plenty of windows on the back part of the house that the intruder could use to escape. But maybe he didn’t have escape in mind.
Maybe this would turn into another attempt to murder her.
If so, she was ready.
“Stay behind me,” Gabriel insisted. “And watch our backs.”
She did, and Jodi continued to keep an eye out as they made their way up the steps to the porch. But as soon as Gabriel reached the top step, he stopped.
Then, he froze.
Jodi was near enough to him to sense the muscles tensing in his body. And she soon realized why.
Her heart jumped to her throat. “Oh, mercy.” Jodi shook her head and inched closer. Not that she needed to be closer to realize what she was seeing.
A knife.
With a crescent-shaped blade. The tip was missing.
And there was blood on it.
Chapter Two (#ubed458c7-832f-5a4b-b3a4-4cd72a0208c9)
Even before he saw the knife. Gabriel had already had a bad feeling. He’d gotten it the moment he laid eyes on Jodi because she should be nowhere near this place. Now, that bad feeling turned to something much worse.
Hell.
Just to be sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, he took another look at what someone had left on the porch just about two feet to the left side of the door. No tricks. It was the knife all right. Or rather, a knife.
“That blood on it isn’t dry,” Jodi pointed out. Her voice was trembling just a little, but Gabriel had to hand it to her because she was holding herself together.
On the outside anyway.
On the inside, he figured it was a whole different story. If it was indeed the knife that had killed his parents, then it was the same one the killer had used on Jodi.
“It could be fake blood,” Gabriel reminded her.
There was no way he would touch it to find out, though. Since the tip was missing, this was either the actual weapon that had killed his parents or else someone had broken off the end of the blade so that it would resemble it.
But there was a problem with that.
The missing tip that the surgeon had removed from Jodi’s body hadn’t been mentioned in any of the police reports. Nor was the fact that the killer had taken his father’s watch and his mother’s necklace. Those were just a few of the little details that the FBI had left out in case some nutjob tried to confess to the crime. So, either someone had hacked into those actual reports, or...
Gabriel didn’t want to speculate about an or just yet.
While keeping his attention on their surroundings, Gabriel took his phone from his pocket and texted Jameson. He told him that he needed his help and for him to call a CSI to come and take custody of this knife. Jameson was at his house and could be there in a couple of minutes.
Bringing in his brother was better than waiting for the deputies to come in from the sheriff’s office. Besides, Jameson was a Texas Ranger and the best backup Gabriel could have. Once Jameson arrived, maybe they could keep Jodi out of this. Of course, the problem was that she was here and therefore already in the middle of it.
Whatever it was.
This could still be a prank, and Gabriel was holding on to that hope. Over the years the house had become a magnet for daredevil kids, ghost hunters and pretty much anyone warped enough to want to see an old crime scene. That’s how the windows had gotten broken and the boards sprayed with graffiti.
Gabriel tested the doorknob. Locked, just as it should be, and he used his key to open it. He pushed open the door, had a look around and got an instant punch of the musty smell and the dust. An instant punch of the memories, too.
He hated this place.
Hated that it still felt like an open, raw wound. A cut so deep that it would never heal. It was no doubt the same for Jodi. Even though she hadn’t lost her parents that day, it had been just as costly for her.
In plenty of ways, she’d lost herself.
