go.”
“We had to release him, India. We couldn’t hold him once we dropped the charges.”
“He’s out? And you didn’t tell me?”
“I’ve been meaning to, but...I knew how heartbreaking this would be for you.”
“It’s more than heartbreaking! He could find me again, Detective Flores. And what about Cassia? He knows she’s the reason I wouldn’t go with him when he tried to drag me off that night. Next time he won’t take the chance. He’ll kill her.”
“I understand the fear and pain you must feel,” he responded. “But please try to understand our dilemma. If we go back to trial and Sebastian gets off, we can’t try him again. We’ve discussed it at great length. After what happened with the last jury, we feel it would be smarter to wait and see if we can build a stronger case.”
India felt as if she’d been shot herself. As terrible as the past eleven months had been, as slowly as justice seemed to crawl, she’d still had faith that Sebastian would be convicted eventually. How could he not? She’d seen him shoot Charlie. There was no confusion in her mind about who was responsible or how it had happened.
She dropped her head in her hand. “What are the chances that you’ll find some new piece of evidence? They’ve got to be slim, at best. That means he might never have to answer for what he’s done.”
A long silence ensued. Finally, Detective Flores cleared his throat. “I hope that’s not the case,” he said. “And we have to hang on to that hope. It’s the only way to keep our sanity in the face of such a horrendous act. A lot of things could change, India. This isn’t over.”
But he hadn’t been able to deliver on anything. How could she trust what he told her? “You won’t get any more evidence from the house,” she said. “You went through it and released it. The place has been sold. You already subpoenaed Sebastian’s cell phone records. You searched his house and his car and didn’t get what you need. What could you possibly come across in the future that might strengthen the case?”
“Maybe we’ll receive a tip from a neighbor who hasn’t come forward yet, or someone will turn in the gun. It’s even possible his wife will leave him. If she does, she could change her story. I’ve seen that happen a number of times. If she’ll admit he went out that night, that they weren’t together, we might have what we need to get a conviction.”
“Sebastian shot Charlie!” India insisted. “I was there.”
“I believe you. However, your background...the mistakes you made in your youth...”
He let his words trail off. She could tell he didn’t want to come right out and say it, but the defense had assassinated her character. They’d painted her as a woman who couldn’t be trusted, someone who’d managed to get her hooks into Charlie, then killed him for his money and his life insurance.
Thinking about all the things that’d surfaced while she was on the witness stand made her sick—especially since her in-laws had been in the courtroom, staring up at her. She’d never forget the expression on her mother-in-law’s face when the defense claimed that Charlie’s wife was the person who had the most to gain from his death.
“I had very little parental support growing up,” she said. “My mother meant well, but she had to work two jobs just to keep a roof over our heads. And my father was an alcoholic who stepped out of a bar when I was seven and was struck by a car. I was wild in my teens and early twenties. I hooked up with the wrong crowd. I dated the wrong men. But I put all of that behind me once I met Charlie and realized what I really wanted out of life.”
“I understand. People change. Still, your past doesn’t look good on paper. You were once an ‘old lady’ to a man in a biker gang—and drove the getaway car when Sebastian robbed a liquor store.”
“Sebastian didn’t tell me he was going to rob that store! I was waiting for him to pick up a pack of cigarettes!”
“Money is motive.”
Tears began to roll down her face and drip into her lap. “So is obsession. Sebastian was obsessed with me!”
“I get that,” he agreed. “But it isn’t motive we need so much as evidence.”
Charlie was dead, and yet Sebastian was free to go anywhere he wanted. How had it come to this? “What if Sebastian somehow finds out where I live?” she asked. “He could turn up at my house again.”
“I wish we could keep him behind bars,” the detective replied, “but we can’t.”
She was glad Flores didn’t point out that she was the one who’d given Sebastian her address the night Charlie was shot. She’d felt sorry for him, wanted to help an old friend get into rehab. She’d never dreamed Sebastian would read more into her actions, that he’d start trying to reconcile with her. I’ll never be happy without you, he’d said that night.
So he’d made it impossible for her to be happy...
“Have you told the Sommerses?” she asked dully.
“Not yet. I’ve been trying to figure out how to break the news to both of you. I knew how it would make you feel.”
She felt there was no justice in the world. That was how it made her feel. Then there was the helplessness. What now? How would she defend herself—or Cassia—from Sebastian if he tracked her down?
“I doubt he’ll bother you,” the detective was saying. “He’d be crazy to risk his freedom again.”
“You mean since he’s gotten off once,” she said. “Criminals do that all the time. They’re given a second chance, and then they reoffend, right?”
“If I were you, I’d get a security system. And keep an eye out. But try not to let this ruin your peace of mind.”
She had to laugh. Could he be serious? She’d get a security system, but that wouldn’t stop Sebastian from getting to her if he was determined enough. All he’d have to do was follow her to Cassia’s preschool or the store, where she’d be defenseless.
“India?” Detective Flores said when she didn’t respond.
She couldn’t answer him. What was there to say? They’d let Sebastian go, and now he’d come looking for her. She’d testified against him. In his world, there was no greater sin, no greater betrayal.
“When?” she said as she wiped her cheeks.
“When...what?” the detective asked.
“When did you release him?”
There was another long moment of silence. Then he said, “Yesterday.”
Now she didn’t want Cassia to come home, not when the child would be so much safer with her grandparents.
That meant Sebastian hadn’t cost her only Charlie; he’d cost her Cassia, as well.
Rod cursed as he stared down at his new cast. The doctor had indicated that the worst of his injuries hadn’t occurred during the fight. He’d busted his hand trying to break his fall from the bike, but hitting Liam after had led to a second fracture—a stress fracture. The doctor couldn’t believe he’d been capable of using his fists, although Rod didn’t remember feeling he’d had any choice. When Liam came running back to him, he’d assumed he had to get up and defend himself. He wasn’t about to let Crockett, or anyone else for that matter, beat his ass.
So now he was looking at six weeks without the use of his right hand. He knew the routine, had been through it before—with a broken ankle from a waterskiing accident, a broken left wrist from when he’d been hit by a wild baseball pitch and a broken transverse process, one of the small bones coming off his spine, from when he’d rolled his four-wheeler.