Saige blinked, startled at Alex’s outburst.
“She,”—her father pointed at Christina—“is my wife. I will talk to her as I want.”
“Let’s calm down,” Coulter advised. “Arguing isn’t going to help.” He turned to Christina who had a stunned look on her face. “To answer your question, he won’t be released immediately, but there shouldn’t be any problem getting a stay. He was still convicted for the murder of those girls, which is a problem, but now we can get Saige on the stand to tell her story.”
“I hate this,” Saige mumbled, resting her head in her hands. “It’s like waking up in the middle of a nightmare.”
Her father cleared his throat. “Do you remember anything else?”
“Yes, but everything is jumbled and a lot of it is personal. I’ll let you know if I remember anything else about that night and the days after I was taken.” Saige wanted to keep some things to herself and not just about her and Quinten.
She stared at her dad and tried to look at him differently than she’d done as a little girl and up until she’d lost her memory. Her memory was at odds but she knew everything she’d remembered was real. She could hear his raised voice in her ears and Christina’s soft words as she struggled to keep him quiet.
It had been after a party at the house. Her father was livid and hit Christina across the face, knocking her to the ground. He’d stood over her accusing her of having an affair with Alex.
Her father hadn’t known Saige was still up, and she’d heard their argument. At the time, Saige had been brokenhearted to discover what her father was really like. She knew Alex thought Christina had been like Jocelyn, when the truth was Christina had more or less been like a nun compared to her unfaithful father.
She had no idea what life had been like at the house for Christina, Saige had always presumed her stepmother tolerated her rather than liked her, but she couldn’t have been more wrong. Christina told her father she’d never leave him as long as Saige still lived at home because she didn’t trust him with her. That had shocked and confused Saige back then, and it confused her all the more now. She wondered what Christina meant by not trusting her father with her.
“Saige.” Coulter snapped his fingers in front of her face.
She blinked and her gaze slid from her dad’s face before she focused on Coulter. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Memories of Quinten are bombarding me.”
Coulter offered her a wry smile. “Walk me out.” He held her gaze, conveying he wanted a minute alone with her.
Stretching, Saige glanced at the others and followed Coulter into the foyer where he wasted no time in asking her, “Is all your memory back?”
“I think so.” Saige rubbed at her temples. “I don’t remember much about being held in the shack.” Her heart thumped hard as she gulped down the fear that rose when she thought about it. “I think they must have kept me drugged. There are snippets of pain, and small white hands and wrists.” She stepped outside and moved with Coulter toward his car.
Coulter turned to her. “I talked to the sheriff and he felt your statement was more rehearsed than what had actually happened. He thought perhaps Christina had coached you...do you remember, Saige?”
Saige felt the blood leave her face, and then Coulter had a hold of her arm as he shoved her into the car, and crouched down beside her. “Sit and breathe.”
“I’m okay. My memory is still trying to slip into the correct timeline...It was Christina who told me what to say, but she kept looking at her cell. Thinking about it now, it was as though she was reading from her phone. As though maybe someone else had told her what to tell me.” Saige frowned. “My father influenced my decision over the photograph.”
“How? He wasn’t in the room.”
“No, he wasn’t. He woke me up before you all entered and told me to only choose the man I recognized. He stressed that so many times that I remember biting my lip so I didn’t yell at him to stop.” She shook her head, not wanting to believe that her father would do something like that. “He gave Christina an intense look and told her to make sure I selected the right picture.” Saige balled her fists in anger.
“Why the hell would my father do that, Coulter? Why would he want Quinten in prison and the real person to walk free? That doesn’t make sense.” She dropped her head into her hands in frustration.
“I don’t know.”
Saige looked up and met Coulter’s gaze. “You have an idea.”
Coulter glanced away quickly before holding her stare. “Did your father know about Quinten and you?”
Saige nodded.
“Was he happy that you were together?”
“He wasn’t happy because Quinten was married. We argued about that. I refused to stop seeing him.”