Each girl swore.
“I didn’t tell!”
The hushed desperate whisper rushed over Eva’s lips as she jogged up the back staircase of the condo building. Eva had never told anyone about Kristen’s baby. Ever. Even during the darkest times during the trial when she’d felt betrayed and alone, she’d kept silent.
And when Garrison had been at King’s last night, she could have told him about the baby and maybe drawn heat away from herself. Kristen Hall was just months away from a huge wedding that would join two wealthy families. Maybe this wasn’t about Josiah, the Cross family or Price. Maybe it was about keeping an old, dangerous secret.
Clutching her backpack, Eva pushed through the heavy exit door and stepped from concrete to plush carpeting. She moved down the hallway, her shoulders back, aware she did not fit in this sleek place. She glanced at the message from Luke and the address at the bottom. Wentworth Towers. Condo 7-C. She rang the front bell.
Her stomach bunched in knots as she waited. Finally, high heels clicked on the other side of the door seconds before it snapped open.
In the doorway stood a sleek, tall woman with curly red hair and sharp green eyes that narrowed instantly. “Eva Rayburn. You’re about the last person I ever expected to see again.”
Eva clenched the strap of her backpack. “Hello, Kristen.”
Brittle green eyes turned frigid. “What do you want?”
She’d not expected a gushing welcome but she’d also not expected the coldness. “Do you have time to talk?”
Kristen didn’t open the door wider. “Do you want money? ”
Eva’s body grew rigid. “No, no money. I just wanted to talk.”
Kristen glanced behind her and then stepped out onto the hallway. She closed the front door behind her. “What do you want, Eva?”
“Did you hear about Lisa?”
The flicker of emotion darkened her eyes. “It was on the news. Sad. What do you want?”
Eva had always looked up to Kristen as had Lisa and Sara. Kristen was the perfect one—the girl her sorority sisters emulated and the one the boys desired. Back in school, Eva had wanted to win her approval so badly. And to Eva’s surprise the years hadn’t erased that need to please. For a moment, she wished now she’d run a brush through her hair and picked her best shirt. And then Eva caught herself. “I want to talk about Sara Miller.”
Kristen huffed her impatience. “What about her?”
“Sara is dead too.”
Kristen folded her arms. “What?”
“Killed. Murdered. I’ve seen pictures of her body.”
Color drained from Kristen’s already-pale features. “Why are you telling me this? ”
“I thought you might know what happened to her. Or who might have killed her.”
“Why would I know something like that?” The disgust in her voice sounded genuine.
“Let’s face it, Kristen, you had your pretty little fingers in everyone’s business in college and I’ll bet nothing’s changed.”
Kristen shook her head. “You hated us.”
“What?”
“You hated Sara, Lisa and me. We had money, whereas you had to scrape to get money from a vending machine.”
“You three were my friends until the trial.”
“You mean until we saw you kill Josiah,” she hissed. “What do you expect? That we’d all remain friends?”
“Where were you standing when you saw me kill Josiah?”
“What?”
“Where were you standing?” Eva wanted those missing minutes broken down into minute detail, and Kristen was one of the few who could do it for her.
“How am I supposed to remember something like that?”
“You’d think a moment like that would be burned in your brain. ”
“This is an insane conversation. And if you don’t leave now I’m going to call the cops.”
The threat didn’t carry the weight it would have a few days ago. “Go ahead. Call them. There are things I never discussed because I was protecting you. But now I’m wondering why I should keep quiet.”
The lines around Kristen’s mouth and eyes hardened and for a moment she looked ready to call someone. “What is this visit about?”
“I keep wondering about the night Josiah attacked me. The night you told us about the baby.”
“Shut up. I never told you anything like that.”
“A lot of details are hazy from that night. But that tidbit is crystal clear.”
“I don’t have time for this.”
Eva’s gaze glanced at Kristen’s hand and the large ring on her engagement ring finger. “You’re getting married. That’s nice.”
“So what if I am?”
“Your fiancé doesn’t know about the baby.”
“There was no baby,” she said through gritted teeth.
Eva leaned in. “I remember how you threw up every morning. How you cried to us about having Josiah’s baby. You were terrified for the baby.”
Ice returned to her eyes. “You’ve got the wrong girl, Eva. Maybe you were the one that was knocked up. Maybe in a drunken rage you killed Josiah when he threatened to tell your secret.”
The distortion unlocked something in her subconscious. “I only had a half a glass of wine that night.”
“I refilled your glass a half dozen times.”
“I kept pouring it out. I should have been sober but I felt groggy.”
“You drank more than you thought.”
Eva didn’t have all the pieces but some tumbled into place enough for her to say, “You set me up.”
Kristen’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“You knew Josiah was coming that night. You left me alone in the house because you knew what he’d do to me. Did you drug my wine?”
Her skin paled a fraction. “Prison and time has made you insane.”
Eva didn’t rise to the bait. “Why would you set me up? I don’t remember killing him. And over the years, as hard as I’ve tried to recall what happened, I can’t. I’m starting to wonder now if I did kill him.”
“Get out of this building now!”
Kristen’s voice rose higher than she intended and a neighbor opened his door. He was an old man, bald, dark, wearing a workout suit.
“Everything all right, Ms. Hall?” he said.
Kristen chiseled a smile from her icy features. “Just fine, Mr. Gayton.”
His beady gaze darted between Kristen and Eva, and when it settled on Eva’s tattered jeans and T-shirt, it hardened. “I’m calling the cops.”
“No, don’t!” Kristen said quickly. For the first time, Eva realized someone else feared the cops more than she. She’d struck at the heart of a nerve.
When the old man finally vanished, Kristen hissed, “Get the hell out of my life. And if you breathe a word of any of this to anyone, I’ll have my attorney bury you.”
“Someone is killing people we know. Someone is branding them with a four-pointed star.”
Kristen lifted a brow. “Is that someone you?”
“Drugs and pain aren’t clouding my memory or thoughts now. I see very clearly. The big question is am I looking at the
killer?”
“Stay away from me or you will find out.”
Eva shook her head. “Be careful, Kristen. Two of the three girls who testified against me are dead.”
The anger in her gaze wavered briefly. “Is that a threat?”
“No. I’m just pointing out the pattern to you, like when we were in college. You remember how I could guess the test questions so well? I see a pattern and you and I are a part of it. ”
“Stay away from me.” Kristen stormed back into her apartment.
Eva stood there a long moment, her grip on her knapsack strap so tight her hand ached. “Don’t count on it.”
Garrison parked at the Cross mansion an hour later. Built in the 1930s, the house’s stone façade and heavy windows with overhangs gave it a gothic old-world look. A heavy front door with a wrought-iron door handle and knocker added to the heaviness.
When Garrison rang the bell he waited barely seconds before a maid opened the front door. He held out his badge. “I’m Detective Garrison with the Alexandria Police Department. Is Mr. Micah Cross available? ”
Most people were taken aback when he showed up on their doorstep. People just didn’t like talking to cops. But the maid didn’t seem rattled. “Please come inside. I’ll see if he is available.”
Garrison was escorted into a living room furnished with Mission-style furniture, artwork that looked expensive and carpets that cost more than he made in a year. The room had a heavy feel that reminded him of a 1950s B movie.
Garrison moved toward the fireplace mantel. Above it hung a portrait of Darius Cross. His features were stern, his gaze hard. On the mantel sat a collection of photos. Most of the pictures of Micah and Josiah appeared to have been taken at least twenty years ago. As he stared at the faces that were so identical, he realized the boys had been twins, something he’d not known.
Micah Cross appeared. Tall and slim, he had a pale complexion and dark brown hair. Glasses set off blue eyes and accentuated hollowed cheekbones. The pictures of Josiah in Eva’s file had been of a young college kid, not a man in his early thirties. Still, even as a young man, Josiah’s angry hardness made him appear older than Micah did now.
“Detective Garrison, is it?”
“Yes.” He pulled out his badge and held it out for Mr. Cross to examine. “Thank you for seeing me.”