Beyond Innocence Read online

  “So you don’t deny it?”

  “Are you deaf? Don’t you have a life, Sam? Don’t you have a pretty little wife, and a pretty little house, and a cute little kid, and an upwardly mobile career? Go back to them, and get outta my face.” With that, Tate slapped a hand to Sam’s chest and pushed him away. But it wasn’t far. Or, at least, it wasn’t far enough.

  “Who the hell are you?” Sam was almost shouting. “You used to be somebody. You used to be somebody I respected, and look what you’ve turned into—a pimp and a wife-beater. What happened, Tate? I don’t know you anymore.”

  Tate leaned in close to Sam, and even from his table several feet away Pete could see the fierce determination in those blue eyes. “You never knew me, Sam. I was never who you thought I was. This is me. What you see is what you get. We’re from different worlds, Sam Riven. Now let me get on with my life in my world, and you get on with yours. Stop wasting your time before you end up someplace that you don’t wanna be.”

  But Sam didn’t heed the warning. He grabbed Tate’s shirt and yelled in his face, “Damn you! You’re a liar. This isn’t you! This isn’t—”

  “I got between them just before Tate’s fist connected with Sam’s face. It took me and a bouncer to keep them from mauling each other, and I had to practically drag Sam out of the joint.”

  “Do you think Tate beat her?”

  Pete shrugged. “His girls rarely have a mark on them. If they do it seems to upset Tate almost more than the girls, so I figure the clients are to blame. And that was the only time I ever saw his wife like that. If he did it, it wasn’t characteristic. Honestly, I don’t know what happened, but from what I saw of what went down between him and Sam day in and day out I don’t think he would have denied it even if he hadn’t touched her.” He pulled in his legs and dropped his feet to the floor. “He looked for ways to hurt Sam. God only knows why.”

  “So I guess you got Sam back on his feet and kept him from taking the rap for the shooting.”

  “It took some doing and a lot of talking, but essentially…yeah.”

  Kyle tapped the file in front of him. “Well, it may be too late, but I may have a little glimpse here of what made Tate Barton tick.”

  Pete leaned forward, suddenly feeling energized after the purging of his demons. “Why? What do you mean?”

  “I’ve been calling in some markers. I’ve got contacts down at the ME’s office, the hospitals, the DMV, you name it.”

  “Why, Kyle, my boy, you’ve been holding out on me.”

  “I just didn’t tell you where I was getting my tips, but since you were sharing, well…” He shrugged and tilted up the corners of his mouth. “Anyway, like we talked about, I’ve been asking for info on Sam’s and Tate’s parents, their birth records, illnesses, just about anything, significant or not.”

  “And you got something?”

  “Did you know that Tate’s mother committed suicide?”

  Pete blinked stupidly. “No. Sam never mentioned it, but like Elsie said, Tate never talked about his mother.”

  “Well, that could be why.”

  Pete nodded slowly. “How?”

  “Overdose of valium. I’ve got the autopsy report here. She died when Tate was nineteen.”

  Pete stood and rounded the desk to peer over Kyle’s shoulder. “Shit! Did he find her?”

  “No, it was dear ol’ daddy who put in the call to 9-1-1.”

  “Still, that’s enough to screw up anybody.”

  “Well, according to this, I doubt that was all that screwed with Tate’s head. You know how Elsie said Tate used to have bruises that she figured came from his dad?”

  Pete nodded, already getting a pretty good idea where this was going.

  “I guess he wasn’t the only one. In fact, I wonder if Rosie Barton took the brunt of Jeremiah’s wrath. The pathologist made note of numerous broken bones that had healed over, from ribs to tibias and fingers. Even her jaw had a crack that had healed over.”

  “I guess it would be a miracle if Tate didn’t beat his wife, considering he grew up watching that every day.”

  “And his poor mother didn’t only have her husband’s beatings to contend with.” Kyle pointed to a section of the report in front of him.

  Pete read aloud, “Uterus. Numerous serosal adhesions and microscopic evidence of endometriosis.” He paused and scowled. “That means something to you?”

  Kyle cleared his throat and tapped his pen on the blotter a few more times. “I—uh—my older brother went into medicine, and for a while I considered it too. I used to read his medical texts every chance I got.” He licked his lips, and Pete could swear he saw a flush on poor Kyle’s cheeks. “Especially the stuff on the female reproductive system.”

  Pete slapped him hard on the back. “You old dog you! Here I thought you were an altar boy, and innocent as a lamb.”

  “Not quite.” Kyle’s blush deepened. “I changed my mind when I realized I’d have to stick needles into people.”

  Pete couldn’t suppress a laugh. “You were afraid of giving people shots, and then went into a profession where you might be called on to actually shoot people?”

  “What can I say? I’m an enigma.”

  Feeling almost giddy, but putting it down to stress and fatigue, Pete returned his attention to the autopsy findings. “So what does this mean, Doc?”

  “It means she was a sick lady. Lots of female-type problems. Endometriosis and fibroids, both of which can be painful and cause other problems.”

  “Okay, she’s got my sympathy, but I get the feeling there’s more.”

  “Looks like maybe we’re actually getting to know each other,” said Kyle sardonically. “You’re right on the money.” He pointed to another line in the report. “Since she had so many problems with her reproductive system the pathologist did a more extensive examination than he would have otherwise. I also wonder if he made note of this particular finding because he knew she had a son.”

  “Yeah?” Pete was having trouble concealing his impatience. Since Kyle seemed to want to show off he bent down and read the type beside Kyle’s finger. “Exocervical os—oh, brother—is round, consistent with nulliparity.” Pete rubbed his eyes. “You’re starting to scare me, Kyle. Okay, what does that mean?”

  “It means that she was never pregnant, or at the very least, she never gave birth. There was no mention of a Caesarian scar, so I take that to mean she never had a baby, alive or otherwise.”

  Pete stared at him. “But I thought you told me a few days ago you checked out the birth certificates and both Tate and Sam seemed to be legit.”

  “They both seemed to be. No father was listed, but obviously somebody went to a lot of trouble to make it look like Tate was Rosie’s natural offspring.”

  Lubricated with coffee and adrenaline, the wheels in Pete’s brain began to grind into action. “Was she married to Jeremiah when Tate was born?”

  “Nope. It looks like they were married about two months after Tate’s birth.”

  “Hmm. So what does this all mean?”

  Kyle laughed and threw his pen on the desk. “Damned if I know. But it’s real interesting, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Tate must have known. It’s no coincidence that he approached Sam, and it’s no coincidence that meeting seems to coincide with the same year his mother offs herself.”

  “You have all the sensitivity of a rampaging rhino,” quipped Kyle.

  “See, you are getting to know me.”

  “But what does that have to do with the two of them disappearing? And what does it have to do with the rift that occurred between them? And—”

  There was a loud rap on their office door.

  “Come in!” they yelled in unison. Pete, for one, was grateful for the interruption. It was late, and he was ready to go home and mull this all over with a six-pack of Bud and maybe a Star Trek rerun or two.

  The door eased open and a perky blonde head peered through the opening. It was Julianna, one of
several secretaries who had the hots for Kyle. Pete wasn’t sure, but he had the distinct impression that maybe in this case the interest was mutual.

  “Don’t you guys ever go home?” she said with a flutter of eyelashes.

  Kyle leaned back in his chair and stretched, trying very hard to look nonchalant and cool, and like a cop to be reckoned with. “We were just on a roll and lost track of time.”

  “Catching all the bad guys, right?”

  “You bet.”

  Pete snickered.

  Julianna glanced behind her, and when she turned around this time she looked at Pete. “Uh—there’s somebody here to see you. She was very insistent that she see you now. And—and I think maybe you should talk to her, Pete.”

  “She asked for me specifically?”

  “Yeah. Can I bring her in?”

  Pete shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sure. What the hell? It’s not like I have a life or anything.”

  With a final glance and a shy smile for Kyle, Julianna retreated and returned a few moments later with a woman and a boy in tow. Julianna showed them into the office and Pete was on his feet in a heartbeat. “Faye? What are you doing here?”

  Julianna was already pulling the door closed behind her, and Faye waited until it had clicked shut before acknowledging that Pete had spoken. She let go of Tanner’s hand and removed the oversized sunglasses she had been sporting. She looked directly at Pete. “I needed to see you.”

  Pete cringed at the unvarnished truth that lay beneath those glasses. One eye was the color of a rotting eggplant and had swollen almost shut. An angry gash over her right cheekbone had been stitched up, and her nose was battered and misshapen. “Christ, Faye. What the hell happened?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not here about that.”

  “You wanna sit down?”

  “No. I want to go someplace else to talk, but first I need you to promise me that you’ll protect me from Calvin. If he finds out I’m here and why…” She swallowed painfully. “He’ll kill me and I’m afraid he might hurt Tanner.”

  Pete regarded her skeptically. And then he looked at her son. Tanner’s eyes were riveted to his. The boy was obviously trying to hide his pain behind a mask of defiance, but even a blind man could sense the swirling vortex of emotion in that little body. And Pete found himself wondering how that turmoil would eventually express itself.

  He returned his gaze to Faye. “That depends. Give me a hint as to what this is about.”

  Faye considered the question, and he saw her reach for her son’s hand. But Tanner pulled away and stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets. In an effort to save face she brought that hand up and tucked some mousy blonde hair behind her ear. She licked her lips and took a deep breath before the words spilled out.

  “I’m here to tell you what happened to Sam and Tate. They’re dead, Pete, and I have to tell somebody about it or I’m afraid I’ll explode.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Kananaskis Region, Alberta

  “I can’t be what you want.”

  He couldn’t accept it. He wouldn’t. “Please don’t do this.”

  “You have to leave now.”

  He felt the sting of tears and the first stirrings of rage. “I just thought—”

  The scene shifted. Dim lighting gave way to colorful neon. Silence gave way to a relentless pounding beat. The faces blended and the voices changed.

  “How could you do that?”

  “Just leave me alone.”

  “What were you thinking? How could you be such an idiot?”

  “It’s none of your business. Just let me be. I don’t need your help.”

  “I thought we were friends. Talk to me.”

  “I don’t need anybody. I don’t need you.”

  “Luke!”

  He felt the warmth of a hand shaking his arm.

  “Luke, please wake up.”

  He opened his eyes when she placed her hand to his cheek. “Look at you. You’re sweating.”

  He blinked against the fading blue of the sky. Or was he looking at the lake? The colors here were so vivid it was hard to tell. “I’m sorry.” He rubbed at his eyes, and managed to sit up and get his bearings.

  Marnie laughed, and suddenly he just wanted to curl up and let her hold him, and shut out all the confusing, disturbing, disquieting images that seemed to be surfacing with alarming frequency lately. He felt safe with Marnie. He felt like he belonged, and he was beginning to find his place. But the dreams kept him off balance. They made him question who he thought he was, and he didn’t like the answers that seemed determined to flit through his mind when he asked such things.

  “What are you sorry for?” she chided good-naturedly. “You apologize far too much.”

  “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, that’s all.” He gazed around and drank in the view. “But it’s so peaceful here. It’s hard not to relax.” The sights, the sounds, the smells. He couldn’t seem to get enough. The rich turquoise-blue of the glacier-fed lake was at their feet, the horses grazed a few yards away. The light was dwindling and the evening breeze was fresh and cool. The mountains towered over them, all majesty and power and infinity and grace. Crickets chirped and birds sang. He wanted to stay here forever. He felt clean here. That thought struck him as odd but he decided not to dwell on it.

  “You had another dream,” whispered his friend as she lay down beside him on the blanket and gazed up at him with those milk-chocolate eyes.

  “Yeah. But we should get going. Aren’t the horses supposed to be back soon?”

  “Why won’t you tell me about your dreams?”

  “Because I don’t understand them myself.”

  “But they bother you.”

  He plucked at a few blades of grass and tossed them into the wind to see which way they would fly. “A little.”

  “Don’t you trust me, Luke?”

  Startled, he riveted his eyes to hers. “Of course, I do.”

  “But you won’t trust me with that.”

  He lay back on the blanket and closed his eyes. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Marnie. I just…” He opened his eyes and followed the drifting clouds overhead, wondering if they knew where they were going any more than he did. “I just don’t like facing what I see in those dreams. Talking to you about it would make it more real, and I don’t know if I want that.”

  “Are they memories, do you think?” she persisted.

  “Yes. I’m just not sure where they take place, and who the people are.”

  Marnie was silent. She lay beside him, gazing up at the same clouds and experiencing the same simple pleasures. He had no doubt anymore that she enjoyed being with him as much as he enjoyed her. His hand snuck over and linked with hers.

  “There’s a woman,” he said at last. “A beautiful woman who is asking me to leave. But she doesn’t just mean her house, or wherever it is. She wants me out of her life. She wants no part of me.”

  “And in the dream that upsets you? She’s important to you?”

  “Yes. Very.”

  “Do you think it might be your wife?”

  He absently fingered the wedding band he still wore. “I don’t know. Maybe. All I know for sure is that it hurts. And it makes me angry.”

  “You’ve had that dream a lot?”

  “More lately.” He turned his head to look at her. “I could be wrong, but I get the feeling that I’m getting closer. I feel like any day now, or maybe if I see something familiar, or hear the right word—” He shook his head to clear his thoughts. “I just feel like the memories—everything—is very close. It’s like one tap on the right brick and the whole wall will come crashing down.”

  “Do you want it to?”

  Confused, he propped himself up on one elbow and studied her face. “What? What do you mean?”

  “Do you want to remember?”

  “Of course, I do. I think. I-I mean…” He plowed his fingers through his hair. “God. I thought I did. I should, ri
ght? But lately, I don’t know. I’m not so sure.”

  “Me neither.”

  On a whim he stroked her cheek and traced his fingers down her throat. “It’s scary, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” The muscles in her throat contracted and relaxed before she continued, “I like having you with me. I’m getting used to it. I guess maybe I’m afraid that if you remember another life, you’ll go back to it.” He dragged his eyes up to meet hers. “I don’t want to lose this, Luke. I know it’s selfish, and I’m sorry. But that’s the way I feel.”

  “I think maybe that’s the way I feel, too.”

  “Really?” Her voice was so uncertain, so disbelieving it made him a little bit angry. Could she still not see how he felt? Couldn’t she see how much he needed her? How much he cared? Did she really think she was so unattractive and that that would change a thing? She was so beautiful, and it infuriated him that she wouldn’t believe it.

  He decided to indulge himself and address this issue once and for all. Very gently he removed her glasses and studied her face. “Really. This is special to me, too, Marnie. I wish you could believe it.” In an effort to drive home his point he leaned over and caressed her lips with his own.

  Gently, slowly, he made love to her mouth like he had imagined doing a million times. Their only other kiss had been notable, but far too brief. Maybe it was the expanse of sky, and the wildness of the setting. Maybe it was the freshness of the air and the rustling breeze. Maybe he was suffering from oxygen deprivation, but regardless of the cause, he found that he had come to a decision. And he had every intention of following it through. Maybe not right this very moment, but soon. And Marnie had better be prepared, because she was going to enjoy it whether she liked it or not.

  The kiss deepened. Marnie accepted the intimacy willingly, and when Luke’s tongue flicked at her upper lip and slid into the moist warmth of her mouth, he was pleased to feel her arms encircle his neck. A low moan rumbled in his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her in close and snug.

  She felt so fragile beneath his hands. He felt her delicate ribs, and thought they might snap under the pressure. But even considering that he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He held her tighter, with an urgency that surprised him. He nestled his erection against her and slipped his hand beneath her T-shirt, savoring smooth warm skin and the electricity of that first unexpected contact. The kiss took on a fierce, zestful quality and his tongue became even more aggressive.