Read Broken Page 23


  She heard shouts then. Coming from that line of fishing houses. Trey was closing in on his prey.

  A gunshot blasted.

  “I said to stand back!” The roar of Trey’s voice reached them.

  More gunfire erupted. Pierce pulled Eve down beside him, taking shelter behind a boat that was tied close to the dock.

  Gabe didn’t crouch down with them. He ran toward the sound of that gunfire.

  “Gabe!” Eve called out after him, frantic.

  But he didn’t turn back to her, and Pierce was holding her tightly.

  “He can handle this, Eve.” Pierce’s gaze was on her. “We have to protect you. We have to figure out what to tell the cops, we have to—”

  She broke away from him and ran after Gabe.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  THE KID WAS SHOOTING AT TREY. GABE SAW THE police chief duck down behind a garbage can even as the guy called out a warning for Johnny to “Drop your weapon!”

  Gunfire was Johnny’s response.

  There was another Dauphin Island officer there, a guy who was skulking low near the side of the fishing house on the right. The fishing houses were a narrow group of buildings, barely ten feet wide each, all brightly painted in island colors. Boats surrounded them.

  Were you trying to get on another boat? Trying to get away?

  But Johnny had been spotted before he could make that escape.

  “You won’t take me in!” Johnny screamed.

  Yes, they would. Gabe kept close to the side of those fishing houses. He made sure not to present his body as a target. Trey and his officer had Johnny distracted up front. Now he just needed to work his way around the back and catch the guy off-guard.

  But another shot rang out, and Gabe heard a sharp cry.

  “Bastard hit me!” That wasn’t Trey. The other officer had been hit.

  And as Gabe watched, Trey broke from his cover and ran toward the fishing house that Johnny was inside. Trey had his gun out. Johnny was coming outside, not firing any longer. But walking straight out like a prisoner to his execution.

  And Trey was lifting his gun, getting ready to shoot.

  What the hell? What had happened to Trey’s own words not to shoot the guy?

  Trey’s weapon was up. Gabe ran ahead and he leapt across the small porch of the house, grabbing for Johnny. He expected to hear the crack of gunfire.

  But he didn’t.

  His body slammed into Johnny’s, and when they hit the concrete, Johnny landed under Gabe. The idiot tried to fight him, so Gabe just grabbed the man’s head and shoved it down. Johnny groaned.

  Gabe looked over at Trey, thinking the man must have come to his senses before he’d fired, but—

  Eve was there. Her hands were still wrapped around Trey’s right arm—and the gun was still gripped in Trey’s right hand.

  She stopped him from firing.

  Pierce rushed up behind her.

  “I’ll . . . never talk . . .” Johnny vowed.

  “Yeah, you fucking will,” Gabe promised him as he yanked the guy to his feet. The other officer rushed from the shadows, and blood gushed from the wound on his shoulder.

  Johnny’s gun had fallen when Gabe hit him. Gabe bent and grabbed that weapon, but he made sure to keep his hold on Johnny.

  “This isn’t . . . over, bastard!” Johnny told him.

  “It is for you.” That response came from Trey. He’d closed in on his prey. He yanked out his cuffs. Slapped the metal around Johnny’s wrist. “After trying to kill two cops in front of witnesses, you can damn well bet that things are definitely over for you.” He shook his head. “Your uncle is going to fucking not believe this shit!”

  The cop started reading the guy his rights. Johnny was just laughing.

  And then—

  Johnny’s laughter stopped. “Dead girl.”

  Gabe stiffened. Johnny was staring straight at Eve. Smiling at her.

  “I remember you, dead girl. Do you remember me?”

  Trey pulled the guy away from Eve.

  Her expression had flickered, just a bit, when Johnny taunted her.

  Dead girl.

  And Gabe realized that Eve did remember the younger man.

  “We need to go, Jessica.” Pierce wrapped his hand around Eve’s arm. “We need to get out of here now.”

  Trey froze, Johnny right at his side. “That’s not happening.” He glared at Pierce. “I want her at the police station. I want you both there. No one confesses to murder and walks away.” His voice lowered as he stared at Eve. “Not even you, sweetheart.”

  And in the distance, thunder rumbled once more.

  “DON’T SAY ANYTHING, Jessica. Do you understand? Not a word.”

  Gabe watched as Pierce paced in front of Eve—Jessica. Dammit, he had to get used to calling her that name soon.

  They were in a small conference room at the PD. Pierce had tried to throw Gabe’s ass out, but Jessica had refused. She’d said that she wanted him there with her. And with her was exactly the place he wanted to be.

  “So . . .” Gabe leaned his shoulders against the wall. “Your memory is back.”

  She was seated at the small table in a slightly wobbly chair. He noticed that every few moments she would rock to the side in that chair. A movement prompted by fear?

  “Not all of it.” She looked up from the table and her green gaze focused on him. “Not even close. Just bits and pieces. Flashes that are . . . terrifying.”

  “Jessica.” Pierce’s face was so red that Gabe thought the man might literally explode. “Please, I’m begging you . . . stop.”

  But she shook her head. “I don’t have secrets from Gabe. He’s been the one to help me, from the very beginning.”

  Pierce reached for her hand. “You have secrets, you just didn’t know about them—”

  She snatched her hand away from him. “Because you didn’t clue me in to them. You walked in Gabe’s office wearing your fancy suit, and you said you didn’t even know if I was your sister.” Anger hardened her delicate jaw. “You lied, Pierce. You knew then. You knew.”

  Pierce’s shoulders hunched. “Yes.” Shame was in that confession.

  Gabe shot away from the wall. “Then why the hell didn’t you say something?” The guy had just walked out that day, and left his sister behind. With no money, no help . . . nothing.

  Pierce spun to face him. “Because if she didn’t have her memories, then she didn’t have her nightmares! I thought it might be better for her!”

  What a freaking idiot. Gabe’s hands had fisted at his sides and he sure loved the idea of plunging his fist into Pierce’s pretty-boy face.

  “Better?” Eve repeated. She was still in the chair, but now her hands had flattened on the tabletop. “To think that I was unwanted? That no one out there cared at all that I was alive? Or dead?”

  Anguish seemed to twist Pierce’s face. “You don’t know what your past was like. Dammit, Jessica, I had to put you under suicide watch when you were just sixteen!”

  Sixteen . . . the age she’d been when her parents died in that boating accident.

  Sixteen . . .

  Ten years ago.

  “You took a bottle of pills. I—I barely found you in time. Your stomach was pumped, you were delirious, and you were just saying that you wanted to die. That’s when I had to have you hospitalized. You were under the suicide watch.”

  Gabe’s heart stopped. His eyes were on Eve—fuck, to me, she will always be Eve. And he couldn’t look away.

  She held herself so still. No more rocking in that unsteady chair. Her skin was too pale. Her hair had dried, so had her clothes, and she looked . . . lost.

  “Did I kill someone?” Eve asked quietly.

  Pierce’s gaze flew to Gabe. “You need to leave. I have to talk with my sister—”

  Eve leapt to her feet. Her chair screeched as it flew back behind her. “Did I kill someone?” Her voice was a shout.

  “No!” Pierce shouted back at her. Then his eyes
widened in horror. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” He raked a hand through his hair. “You tried, okay? You tried to kill the bastard, and he totally had it coming.”

  Eve looked so fragile. Like she’d shatter at any moment. She won’t. She’s strong. “What bastard?” Gabe demanded.

  Pierce glanced toward the door. “Is this place wired? Is Trey listening to us?”

  He had no clue, and right then he didn’t care. “What bastard?”

  But Pierce shook his head. “When we get out of here, Jessica, I’ll tell you everything. Just not a word now, okay? Trey won’t let his feelings for you hold him back. He’s a black and white guy, always has been. That’s why you left him at the end. You knew if he ever found out, he’d turn away from you. You said you couldn’t count on him. That’s what you told me.”

  “I was laughing.” Eve stared down at her hands. “And there was blood on my hands. Why would I do that?”

  “Because he deserved the pain you gave him.”

  The guy just needed to stop with the bull and come right out and say what he meant.

  Eve’s hands clenched into fists. “I don’t think I was the Lady Killer’s victim.”

  Now that sure as hell surprised Gabe. He crossed to Eve, unable to stay away.

  “I have these flashes . . .” She waved her fist in the air. “I can hear his voice, low, rasping, and he’s telling me that we’re playing a game together.”

  The door opened then. Trey stood on the threshold, looking weary but determined. FBI Agent Avery Granger was behind him.

  “We’ve got some information you all are going to want to hear,” Trey said as he marched into the room. He motioned toward the table. “Jessica, you’re gonna want to sit down.”

  Considering she’d just jumped up from that table, Gabe wasn’t particularly surprised by the negative shake of her head.

  “Right. Fine.” Trey was holding a manila envelope. He opened the envelope and a plastic bag spilled onto the table. A bag that contained a gleaming diamond tennis bracelet.

  Gabe frowned at the evidence. “Is that one of the pieces recovered from the guy’s trophy box?”

  “No.” Trey’s voice was clipped. “This piece was around the wrist of Alexa Chambers, only it didn’t belong to her.” His gaze was on Eve. “It belonged to you.”

  She shook her head. But this time the shake was slow, uncertain.

  “There’s an inscription inside, one that I’m pretty damn familiar with, since it says, ‘To J, with all my love . . . P.’ ”

  Surprise flashed in her eyes.

  “The bracelet was yours.” Pierce’s voice was wooden. “I bought it for you after . . . after our parents’ death.”

  Eve didn’t speak.

  Trey exhaled on a long sigh. “There’s blood in the diamonds. Maybe that blood is Alexa’s. Maybe it’s yours. Maybe it’s both—”

  “Why would my bracelet be around her wrist?”

  “Why indeed?” It was Agent Avery who asked the question. “Why do all the victims look like you? I thought the guy was just fixated on blondes, that you were unfortunate enough to fit his victim profile, but now I’m not so sure.”

  There was another knock at the door.

  Avery called out, “Come in.”

  And the door opened to reveal Sarah.

  “I figured it would be best if your psychiatrist joined us for this part,” Avery said. “Especially since she’s been working so hard to understand the killer for us all.”

  Sarah looked . . . nervous. And she wasn’t meeting Gabe’s stare.

  What the hell?

  “Why would the killer put that bracelet on Alexa’s wrist?” Avery asked.

  Pierce moved closer to Eve. “I don’t understand what’s happening here—”

  “Oh, sorry,” Avery said, sounding anything but. “Let me clarify . . . we’re trying to catch a killer, and I’m using the best psychiatrist in the area to try and explain the psychopath’s motivations. Does that clear things up for you?”

  Silence.

  Sarah cleared her throat. “Victoria . . . she’s determined an age for the victim that we found in the fort.” Now she did look at Gabe. “She was only sixteen.”

  Shit.

  “And Victoria thinks that she was killed ten years ago.”

  When Eve would have been sixteen, too.

  “Tell me more . . .” Avery murmured, and Gabe realized that the FBI agent already knew this information. The guy was too certain, his gaze too assessing as it stayed on Eve.

  What did they discover while I was out on that island?

  “I’ve been doing an age chronology for the other victims that we’ve identified,” Sarah said. “Their ages vary slightly, and I think . . . I think he was increasing the age of his victim, as he aged.”

  Gabe wasn’t sure he followed. “So he started killing sixteen-year-old girls . . .”

  “When I think he was younger. And as he aged . . . and as the target of his—his affection aged . . .” Sarah seemed to stumble a bit as she used that word. “So did the ages of his victims.”

  Gabe cut his eyes back to Eve.

  The target of his affection.

  “It’s unusual.” Sarah’s voice was mild, clinical. “Typically in cases like this, the serial has a type—a set age, a set hair color, a vision of the perfect victim that doesn’t change over time.”

  Eve crept closer to Sarah. “But his vision changed.”

  Sarah nodded. “Yes,” she said softly.

  “Why?”

  Sympathy flashed across Sarah’s face. “Because I think you changed.”

  Eve froze.

  “Avery told me about the bracelet on Alexa’s wrist . . . your bracelet. I suspect the killer placed that bracelet there to send a message.”

  “What message?” It was Pierce who made this demand. “The man out there is crazy, he—”

  “He wanted us to know—wanted you to know, Eve—that he’s always been killing you. Each woman, she’s you.” Sarah’s expression was grim. “He put that bracelet on Alexa because he wasn’t killing her, he was killing—”

  “I get the picture.” Her voice was low and husky—far huskier than it normally was. Her gaze flashed to Gabe, and he was stunned to see the guilt in her stare. “But I don’t think you fully understand,” Eve said. “What if I’m not his victim, what if I’m—”

  “Dammit, Jessica!” Pierce erupted, and he grabbed her arms. “Enough. Enough.”

  “Yeah, that is fucking enough, buddy.” Gabe’s voice was low and lethal. Because the guy was holding her far too roughly, his fingers digging deep into Eve’s skin. “Get your hands off her. Now.”

  Pierce’s hold eased, but he didn’t let her go.

  “I don’t want you to throw away your life. You weren’t helping that freak out there,” Pierce said. “You weren’t.”

  “Move your hands.” Gabe advanced with intent. Eve’s fear was killing him. “Or I will move them for you.”

  And Trey was also leaning in close to Pierce. “If Jessica has a confession to make, I want to hear it.”

  Pierce shook his head. His gaze never left Eve’s. “Please,” he whispered. “I’m trying to protect you.”

  His hands slid from her shoulders. Straightening his spine, he glanced over at Trey. “Don’t you have a suspect in custody? Shouldn’t you be interrogating him?”

  “I will be . . . right after I hear Jessica’s confession. After all, she did tell me that she killed someone.”

  “She doesn’t remember what she did or didn’t do! My sister is troubled, always has been.”

  Sarah frowned at that. Gabe and Sarah had done their best to pull up Jessica Montgomery’s medical records. They hadn’t found, any notation of her suicide attempt or her hospitalization.

  “Why is she so troubled?” Sarah asked.

  Pierce’s lips clamped together. “There are no more questions. No more answers. Leslie Van Knight is my attorney. Our attorney. All questions will g
o through her.”

  Trey shouldered Pierce out of his way. “Is that really how you want to play things?” he asked Eve. “Hiding behind a lawyer? ’Cause I never would have thought that was your style.”

  Gabe didn’t move. He was waiting to see how this scene played out.

  “Maybe you don’t know my style,” she told Trey softly.

  Anger slit his eyes. “Like you do? You can’t even remember your own damn name, your lover, your art—nothing. It’s all gone for you, and you’re screwing this asshole over here”—he jerked his thumb toward Gabe—“because you’d rather be with a stranger than someone who actually gives a shit about you.”

  Enough. “The asshole can hear,” Gabe said, “and you need to watch your step, police chief.” It was the only warning he’d give the guy. “You aren’t going to talk to her like that.” Gabe stepped in front of Eve. He rubbed her shoulders, deliberately keeping his touch light and reassuring. “Your brother’s right. You’re done here. Anything else you need to say to the cop, it can go through your lawyer.” Then he caught her hand. Her fingers were shaking as he twined his fingers with hers. “It’s time to get the hell out of here.”

  “She’s not leaving!” Trey shouted. Avery was in the background, silent, watchful. “I’m not letting her leave again, I’m not just going to let her—”

  “She’s not under arrest.” Gabe’s voice was flat. Cop, back the fuck off. “You have nothing to hold her on. And as you just said yourself . . .” He turned to glare at Trey. “. . . she doesn’t have her memory, so Eve doesn’t know what she was saying before. No confession can be trusted from her.”

  Gabe’s fingers squeezed hers. He wanted to reassure Eve. But he also didn’t want to say too much, not with Trey and Avery watching them too closely.

  Then he led her to the door. The sooner he got her out of that place, the better he would feel. Pierce hurried to keep up with them, but he was still spouting off and telling Trey to stay away from the Montgomery family. Ordering Trey to do his job and to question Johnny Thompson.

  Sarah watched Gabe and Eve, and he sure as hell wanted to know what she was thinking. Sarah inclined her head, and he knew they’d be having a private talk right away. Good. Because I don’t like it when I feel like my own team is working against me.