Darker: The Fugitive Read online

The detective’s eyes flicked up to Ashley, and she stood up, taking Mom with her.

  “Let’s step outside, Mom.”

  I looked down at my hands as the two left the living room. The cops at the firm hadn’t let me wash my hands until they took pictures and samples. At least I’d been surrounded by enough lawyers that I’d been able to wash my hands before the detective asked if I wanted to come to the house to notify my mother. If she’d seen me with Dad’s blood literally on my hands…I didn’t want to think about what that would’ve done to her.

  I could still see it, though. Not just the little bit that was still under my fingernails, but the thick scarlet that had coated my palms.

  “I tried to save him.” The words came out in a whisper.

  “What was that?” the detective asked.

  I looked up at him. “When I saw him on the floor, saw all that blood…I still thought I could save him.”

  “We’ll have to wait for the official report, but I’m almost positive your father’s carotid artery was punctured or sliced. There wasn’t anythin’ you could’ve done.”

  Sympathy should have been better than my family’s accusations, but it wasn’t. It didn’t matter if I couldn’t have saved my dad in that moment. It was my fault because I’d brought the killer to him.

  No. I shook my head. There had to be another explanation.

  “You couldn’t help him then,” the detective said. “But you can help us get the person who did this to him. Talk to me.”

  I took a slow breath and then let it out just as slowly. “I went to the law firm to talk to my dad about this family thing that I planned to put into my film. When I got there, I saw her leaving.”

  “‘Her’ being?”

  “Nyx.” My hands curled into fists. “Nyx Phoenix.”

  “All right. You saw her. Did you talk to her?”

  I shook my head. “I called to her, but she kept walking, like she hadn’t even heard me.”

  “Or maybe she was trying to get away without drawing attention to herself because she’d just killed the Governor of Georgia.”

  I clenched my fists, my knuckles turning white. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Losing someone suddenly like this, viciously, it can take a while for it to sink in.”

  “That’s not what I mean.” My mind went back to that moment. “Yeah, I saw Nyx at the law firm, and then I went inside and found my dad’s body, but she wasn’t the only person in that building.”

  The detective gave me a strange look. “But Delia Check is the only ex-con who was there at the time your father was murdered.”

  I didn’t correct the name he was using. “Check & Sons is a law firm. I’m sure at least one of their clients is an ex-con.”

  “They don’t handle murderers.”

  Everything went quiet. Everything but my heartbeat. I could still hear that, each thud in my chest sounding as empty as the rest of me felt.

  “Say that again.”

  A flicker in the detective’s eyes made me think all of this was an act, that he was as much of an asshole manipulator as my father had ever been.

  “I’m not surprised your little friend didn’t tell you about her time in juvie.”

  “She did.” I remembered every detail. “Five years. From the time she was thirteen until she was eighteen. That doesn’t sound like the type of sentence a murderer gets.”

  “She was tried as a juvenile,” the detective said. “The victim’s family fought like hell to get her tried as an adult, but the prosecutor didn’t like the idea of the press he’d get for throwing a thirteen-year-old into an adult prison.”

  I shook my head again. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Would Delia have had any reason to want to kill your father? You and she were an item, right?”

  “We are – were – I don’t know.” A hand squeezed around my heart.

  “Do you think maybe she was trying to get to your family’s money? Maybe it didn’t work through you, so she figured she’d try your dad?”

  I couldn’t tell if the detective knew about my dad’s affair with my ex, but even if he didn’t, his questions brought that day flooding back to me. What it had felt like walking into my apartment and finding Antoinette bent over my couch, getting fucked from behind by my father. The smirk on my dad’s face while Antoinette had tried to say that it wasn’t what I thought. How furious she’d gotten when I’d asked for my key back and then told her to get out.

  I’d made the comparison between my ex and Nyx before, thinking that Nyx had used me the way Antoinette had, but I’d realized I’d been wrong. Except now,

  I didn’t know if that was the case, after all. Granted, she hadn’t dumped me the moment she found out that I’d been disinherited, but maybe that hadn’t been the original plan. Shadae and Brew both said that they’d talked to this lawyer who’d hired Nyx, and the couple who’d originated the lawsuit.

  I’d met Kaimi and Rose and Sitara. Hell, I’d met the owners of Club Privé. Somehow, I doubted Nyx would’ve put together such a massive and detailed con that she’d come all the way to Savannah to pull it. Maybe the job and everything with it had been real, but the idea of blackmailing my father had shown her a way to get more than just the PI fee she had coming.

  Was that the reason she’d gone to Check & Sons? To tell my father that she’d rather have him pay her to keep her information private than expose his family’s history?

  “She did, didn’t she?” The detective’s voice cut through my thoughts. “She went after your family for the money. First you, then your dad.”

  “I don’t know.” The answer was an honest one, and I hated it. “It’s possible.”

  “Here’s what I think happened.” He leaned back and folded his hands on his stomach, seeming pleased with himself for cracking the case. “I think she’s been tryin’ to con you from moment one, but figured out that she could get more money if she screwed your dad. Maybe he told her he wasn’t givin’ her a penny, and that’s why she killed him. Maybe he told her he was gonna change his will to leave her everythin’ but then changed his mind.”

  “It doesn’t make sense.” I threw up my hands. “At least, not all of it. Why would she come down here to Savannah to try to con money out of my family? There are plenty of rich men closer to her home.”

  “New York City, right?” He phrased it like a question, but I knew it was a statement. He knew where Nyx was from.

  “Yes.”

  “Did you ever think that maybe she lied about where she was from?” He looked at me like I was the most naïve man on this earth. “She was originally from Rochester. Maybe after she got out of juvie, she decided she wanted to come down south, get away from those cold winters.”

  “I’ve been to New York with her twice.” It was getting harder to keep my temper under control. “Once for her best friend’s wedding, and then another time to check in at her office.”

  I didn’t mention the side trip to Rochester to meet with Ambrose Check. The last thing I wanted to do was fuck up the Huxleys’ case, even if it meant having them come after my deceased father’s legacy. All the fingers pointed to Nyx being the murderer, but that didn’t mean everyone else had to suffer too. Best to keep my mouth shut on things that didn’t have anything to do with the…with what had happened.

  “How did the two of you meet?” He shifted the subject.

  “We ran into each other at the airport.” At the skeptical look on his face, I added, “Literally. She had just flown in from New York, and neither of us were paying a lot of attention to where we were going. We collided.”

  “So, you met a stranger at the airport and just decided to take her home with you? Not knowing who she was or why she was here?”

  “No, we went our separate ways.”

  He scratched his chin. “Then how did the two of you end up together at the Huxleys’ ranch?”

  Shit. Maury Nieto could get in serious trouble if I didn’t tread lightly. “Nyx hit a guy and go
t arrested. I’d given her my card at the airport, and one of the cops at the station found it. He called me because she was having a panic attack. Flashbacks of her time in juvie, I found out later. The charges against her ended up being dropped, and since she’d been kicked out of her hotel, I told her she could rent a cabin at the ranch.”

  I left out the part where I’d been the reason the charges had been dropped. I felt guilty enough. I didn’t need the detective to tell me what I already knew.

  If I’d just left Nyx in jail that night, my father would probably still be alive.

  Three

  Nyx

  “Wake up! You got a visitor.”

  I wasn’t sleeping, but I didn’t tell the cop that. I’d been lucky enough to be the only one in the jail cell overnight, but I still hadn’t slept. I might’ve dozed at some point, that sort of half-awake thing where I wasn’t entirely conscious because I knew I was kind of sleeping.

  Yeah, my brain was definitely not at its best right now.

  “Phoenix! Let’s go!”

  At least he’d used the right last name. The detectives had kept calling me Ms. Check. My guess was that this guy had gone by the arrest report, and even though the detectives had been using my old name, I’d legally changed it to Phoenix so that would be the name on the warrant and my booking information.

  Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to hear that other name again, but I doubted it. They wanted a confession and would say whatever they thought would rattle me.

  “Who’s my visitor?” I asked as I tried to smooth out the wrinkles in my shirt.

  “Don’t know. Don’t care.”

  It wasn’t Bradyn.

  It couldn’t be Bradyn.

  A lump formed in my throat, and I had to swallow hard to keep the emotions back.

  Bradyn had lost his father, and no matter how awful Clancy had been, there must’ve been other parts of him from when Bradyn was a kid. Some good memories of some kind.

  And he was going through all of this by himself.

  Even if the rest of his family was with him, he’d still be alone. His mom and sister may let him comfort them, but no one would be comforting him. Except he wouldn’t want my comfort even if I could offer it.

  He’d told the cops I’d been at the law firm when he’d known damn well I hadn’t been anywhere near it. Even if he hadn’t been lying, he hadn’t been able to tell a stranger from the woman he’d been fucking for weeks.

  Neither scenario was anything good.

  The thought twisted my gut into knots, and I was grateful I hadn’t eaten anything since the restaurant yesterday. Right now, I thought I’d never eat again. Just the idea of food made me nauseous.

  The officer stopped in front of the door I’d come through last night.

  “Here’s how this is gonna work,” he said. “You keep your hands to yourself. They keep their hands to themselves. Don’t make us have to get involved. Got it?”

  “Yes.” I didn’t bother to ask if he was going to take off the cuffs. Short answers and no requests were the best way to keep my head down.

  “I’m wonderin’ something.” He yanked his belt up over his stomach. “How does the person who killed the governor rate getting a visitor on her first day, when it’s not even visitation day?”

  Okay, so maybe flying under the radar wasn’t going to happen for me here. I wasn’t sure if that meant I should look forward to going somewhere else, or if it might be good to be visible for a while. Or maybe I should just stop thinking until I saw who was here to see me. Maybe my mystery guest would have good news.

  I followed the officer into the empty visitation room and sat down in the chair he pointed to. My hands went on the table so there’d be absolutely no doubt that I wasn’t trying to hide anything. The last thing I wanted was to give anyone a reason to strip search me.

  I looked around the room, noticing how different it was from the visitation room at juvie. That room had ugly green shag carpet and paintings on the walls. This one was all cold concrete and puke green paint. So, basically, the only thing they had in common was, well, green.

  The sound of the door opening made me look to my right. A figure came through, face partially masked by short light brown hair. A female figure, by the look of her, which really confused the hell out of me because the only women I knew who would actually visit me in jail were in New York City. And even if they would have had the time to get here, it wouldn’t have mattered because I hadn’t called a soul.

  Still, it wasn’t like I had anything better to do. My other option was to go back to my cell and stare at the ceilings or the walls.

  At least this room didn’t smell like piss.

  “Fancy seeing you here.”

  All the air went out of the room.

  I knew that voice. But it wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be possible.

  “How are you doin’, big sister?” Dara smiled brightly as she slid into the seat across from me.

  I could only stare at her, trying to decide if this was really happening or if I’d finally broken. Maybe all of this was just a nightmare. Maybe I’d fallen asleep after getting Dara’s email, and everything since then was just my subconscious trying to deal with it.

  Better yet, maybe I could get really lucky and learn that I fell off the bed I shared with Bradyn and hit my head. I’d wake up in the hospital with a bump or a few stitches and Bradyn sitting next to me, trying not to laugh.

  Those explanations were a lot more believable than the fact that my sister was actually sitting across from me in a jail visitation room.

  “Cat got your tongue, Delia?”

  She had a southern accent.

  For some reason, that was what finally got through to me. Maybe because if this was only in my head, Dara would’ve had a faint Rochester accent like when we were kids. Or maybe she’d sound like me. I wouldn’t have made her sound like Art.

  “Dara?” Her name came out in a hoarse whisper.

  “Nice to see you actually remember me.”

  When she brushed some hair back from her face, I realized she was wearing a wig. Before I could really register it, my mind was racing ahead, taking in every detail from a face I hadn’t seen in thirteen years.

  She had two piercings in each ear, just like she’d wanted. Mom had promised her she could have them that last Christmas before everything went to hell. Her necklace matched the earrings, all sporting emeralds – real or fake, I didn’t know – that made her bright green eyes almost glow.

  But not in a good way.

  I’d almost forgotten what that looked like. The few times I let myself think about Dara, I tried to remember the good stuff. The times our whole family – Mom, Dad, me, and her – had spent together. Visiting the zoo. Making Easter eggs. Setting out cookies for Santa.

  I’d buried the rest.

  Like how she’d once thrown my favorite teddy bear in the toilet because she’d wanted both cupcakes and Mom had made her share. Or how she’d always liked pinching me hard enough to leave bruises. The mean things she’d said to me, both to my face and behind my back, were too many to count.

  “How can you be here?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Come on, I thought you were smarter than that. I mean, you were always the one everyone said would be the valedictorian, go to college, become a doctor or something like that.”

  I tried to pull myself together, but Dara being here had thrown me even more than me being in jail. “Are you living in Savannah now?”

  Dara watched me for a moment. “You shouldn’t have come here, Delia. You should have stayed in New York.”

  I flinched. “How long have you known where I live?”

  “Long enough to see how nice your life is.” My sister’s expression was tight, creating little lines at the corner of her mouth. “You should’ve just stayed up north.”

  A thought scratched at the back of my mind, but I didn’t want to acknowledge it, so I went in a different direction. “You said you believed me now, and
you wanted to tell me why.”

  She shook her head and smirked at me. “I knew that was the only way I was goin’ to be able to speak to you, to finally get some closure for myself.”

  “Closure?” I echoed. “What sort of closure are you looking for, Dara?”

  She reached out toward me, but I leaned back, pulling my hands to the edge of the table. I wasn’t going to get in trouble because she couldn’t follow the rules. I’d had enough of that when we were kids.

  “I don’t understand why you would hurt that man, Delia.” Dara ran her fingers under both of her eyes, as if she was wiping away tears, but I was close enough to see that her eyes were dry. “After what you did to Dad–”

  “Art was not our father,” I snapped. I’d done so well not being baited by the detectives, but Dara had always been able to get under my skin.

  “He was.” Dara glared at me. “And you said all those awful things about him only because you weren’t going to be his special little girl anymore.”

  I would have given anything to not be his ‘special little girl,’ but I didn’t tell Dara that. There wouldn’t be a point to it. She hadn’t believed me before, and it was clear she didn’t believe me now.

  “It must’ve been easy for you, killing this other man. I just want to know one thing.” She glanced over her shoulder at the officer standing only a couple feet away.

  Our time was almost up, and she hadn’t answered any of my questions, and I had more I wanted to ask.

  “Did you choose our grandparents’ law firm because you hate your family that much?” Another swipe at nonexistent tears. “Even after Mom got married again, Gran and Gramp Check were so kind to both of us.”

  Our mom had remarried? That both surprised me and didn’t surprise me. She wasn’t the sort of woman who did well being single, but I would’ve thought she’d want to stay in the good graces of the Check family.

  “Is that why you ambushed that man at the law firm?” She made a show of blowing her nose. “To hurt Gran and Gramp?”

  “They’re not my grandparents,” I said through gritted teeth. “And I didn’t kill Clancy Traylor.”