A metallic taste filled her mouth. Her anger became fury, mixed with hopelessness and pain, rising up in her until she feared it would spew from her with the force of a volcano erupting. She hugged herself and doubled over, fighting to hold back the howl of rage.
She couldn’t. The sound ripped from her, bouncing off the walls and empty rooms, seeming to reverberate to her very soul. Goosebumps flew up her arms, over her belly and down her back. She gagged at the taste of bile in her throat.
Still hugging herself, she dropped to her knees. All the women he must have hurt over the years. Were she and the other girl his first? Or were there others before them?
A tear rolled down her cheek. She could have stopped him, protected all those women—if she had been a different girl. One who didn’t lie. One who was cautious instead of reckless. The kind of person people believed.
Back then no one believed her.
Her fury eased, replaced by steely determination. They would now.
She slid the bag of pills back in the box, then tucked the box back into its spot at the back of the freezer.
If she collected the bag, it would be useless. Tainted beyond repair. She was here alone and without official authorization; it would be her word against everyone’s.
She checked the time. Almost seven-thirty. Even as she told herself she had enough and her best move was to come back with a team, something pressed her to search the rest of the house. Unlike the kitchen, she searched quickly, neither as methodically nor as stealthily as before. The clock, she knew, was ticking down to zero.
The garage was last. Her gaze landed on his car—a five-hundred-series BMW. His tastes hadn’t changed, she thought bitterly, not in the cars he drove nor how he liked his women—immobilized and unwilling.
He’d left the sedan unlocked. Miranda thought she heard a car door slam out front, but continued her search anyway. She rummaged through, between the seats, under them, in the console.
A key. Small. Oddly shaped. Not to a door. A safe, she thought. Or lockbox.
“What the hell, Miranda?”
Jake. She curled her fingers around the key, slipped it into her back pocket, then emerged from the car.
He looked shocked. And disappointed. The last cut deepest.
He shook his head. “When the chief called, I was certain he was wrong. No way were you here—” he motioned around them, “—doing this. Not you, Miranda.”
“I can explain.”
“Don’t bother. President Stark called Buddy. He sent me over. You’re to cease and desist immediately.”
“I saw a car in the drive.… The scene was still sealed, so I checked it out. It was Stark and his wife.”
When he didn’t comment, she rushed on. “He was looking for something … going through the kitchen drawers. He broke the seal, not me.”
“So you kicked him out?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you still here, Miranda?”
“Looking for what we missed.”
“We didn’t miss anything.”
She pictured the key, the bag of roofies. “I think we might have. In fact—”
He held up a hand, stopping her. “Don’t say another word. I don’t want any part of whatever you think you’re doing.”
“The night of the murder, we were looking for something that would lead us to his killer. Turn that around—if he’d been a suspect, our search would have been different. Right? Different perspective, different—”
“Stop, Miranda. You’re losing it. Richard Stark is the victim, not the perpetrator.”
“He’s both, Jake.” Her voice shook and she fought to steady it. “I know it. Hear me, please.”
“You’ve got to get your head on straight. If you don’t—”
“I found something—”
“I don’t want to—”
“In the kitchen, the freezer—”
“I can’t know, Miranda! Don’t you get it? Then we’ll both be off the case.”
She bit her words back. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here.”
“No, you shouldn’t. I’ll escort you back to your vehicle and lock up.”
She started for the door, then stopped. “Buddy’s going to clear the scene, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“It’s a mistake.”
“No,” he countered, “what you’re doing is the mistake.”
“Because I’ll get yanked off the case? Or fired?”
“Yeah to both. And maybe worse.”
Maybe worse, she thought. Like knowing the truth but nobody believing you. Like a scream echoing in your head and not ever knowing what happened next. Or living with the fact that it could have been you, and the help you promised never came.
The fight drained out of her and he walked with her to her car. She climbed in. “I’ll see you back at headquarters.”
He nodded, slammed the car door, but didn’t make a move toward his own vehicle.
Miranda cranked the engine and drove off. Before she turned at the end of the block, she glanced in the rearview mirror.
He still hadn’t moved. As if he felt her glance, he lifted a hand in good-bye.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
8:25 A.M.
In the ten short minutes it took Miranda to drive from Stark’s home to headquarters, the certainty of what she needed to do took form: Tell Buddy about the roofies and convince him to put together a team to go in and retrieve them right way.
She was a good enough cop to know she’d screwed up and that Buddy was going to let her know it. But she was also good enough to know something could be salvaged from the discovery.
She took a deep breath and tapped on his partially open door. The chief waved her in, expression a thundercloud. “Shut the door, Miranda.”
“Should we wait for Jake—”
“No. Take a seat.” She did and he fixed his furious gaze on her. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“Hear me out, Chief. If you still want to come at me with both barrels, I’m right here and an easy target.”
He nodded slightly, although his flush didn’t reassure her this was going to end well. “Ian Stark and his wife were the ones who broke the law. I drove up, saw a car in the victim’s drive, and went to investigate.”
“Why were you in Stark’s neighborhood in the first place?”
“To check on the scene. I had no idea the vehicle belonged to them.”
He looked her straight in the eyes. “And until that moment, you had no previous plans to enter the home?” Her hesitation gave her away and he swore. “Dammit, Miranda! You know better than—”
Jake tapped on the door and poked his head in. “Chief, you want me to—”
The chief waved him in. While Jake got settled, Miranda took over. “I had this feeling we’d missed something.” She rushed on before Buddy had a chance to respond. “I was right. I found something, Chief. It’s pretty big.”
She felt Jake’s gaze; the chief stilled, suddenly alert and waiting. “Roofies,” she said. “A bag of them. In the freezer, stuffed into a vegetable box. Green Giant sweet peas, to be exact.”
Buddy looked at Jake. “Did you know?”
He shook his head. “No. I found Miranda in the garage, going through Stark’s car.”
He didn’t mention her attempt to tell him, which was probably for the best.
“Where are they now?” Buddy asked.
“I put them back where I found them.”
“And what, to your mind, does this have to do with this investigation?”
“As you very well know, Chief, roofies are used for one thing: drug-facilitated sexual assault.”