Chapter Eighteen

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Owen smiled, again, when he glanced over at Ruby as she worked on her laptop on the sofa in his home office. Smiling had been his default for the last three hours since Ruby and he had had that amazing sex.

First in bed.

Then, in the shower.

His body still had a nice buzz going on, and while it was no doubt interfering with his concentration on the investigation, he wanted to hang onto it for a while longer.

And he wanted another round of sex with Ruby.

He thought she wanted the same, but Owen also figured she was having some doubts. Ruby wasn't exactly an open book kind of person, and it was probably hard for her to give herself to him the way she had in bed. Because sex like that could lead to another rift between them.

It was easier to walk away from a rival than it was a lover.

Owen was hoping, though that she didn't do any walking away from him. It was probably stupid for him to think it, but he hoped this buzz, this sex, this thing with Ruby continued…well, indefinitely. No way would he tell her that since it would send her running. Maybe literally. So, he'd have to go slow, have to somehow do some convincing that he was the right man for her.

As if she sensed his thoughts, Ruby looked up from her laptop, and he saw the hint of a smile on her incredible face before she shut it down.

Yeah, it was going to take some convincing, all right.

"Nothing so far on the camera feeds for the area surrounding Trent's apartment," she relayed, clearly trying to get his mind back on track. "I'm widening the search, looking for anyone in a hoodie."

Owen looked at the info on his own laptop. It wasn't good news, but then pretty much everything that'd been coming in fell into that particular category.

"Ashton Walters," he said, referring to Trent's alias. "He rented the apartment six months ago through an online portal. The property manager never met him, and his neighbors said they rarely saw him. None of the neighbors recognized him as the person the police had been looking for in connection with Brynn's attack."

"Did he work?" she asked.

"He listed himself as owner of Graphic Art, Etc., and he did have a regular stream of paid projects doing webpage designs and such. I'm not sure, though if he was actually doing the work or if it was a front since none of his clients ever met him in person. But he was earning about 2K a month. Not enough to cover rent and normal expenses."

"So, he was getting help," Ruby concluded. "How did he pay for his rent? I'm guessing it was online?"

"It was. SAPD is getting a warrant for that and his financials, but they likely aren't going to find anything. Ashton Walters didn't exist before he rented the apartment, which means Trent was using another alias before that."

"And along with the money, someone was helping him come up with those fake IDs," she said. "That takes us right back to his parents."

"Or Alice or Marlie," he reminded her. "Both of them come from money, and while I can't find anything to indicate them giving Trent funds, it doesn't mean one of them didn't."

Owen would have gotten into more about that, but there was an alert on his security system. He immediately checked the monitor, thinking that one of the CSIs or cops had returned.

But his heart revved into overdrive when he saw the person in the hoodie approaching his front door.

Hell.

Was this the killer, trying to come after them?

He heard Ruby's sharp intake of breath as she set her laptop aside and got to her feet. They both stood there, watching as the person rang the doorbell.

And then looked directly up into a security camera.

It was Brynn. Or at least it looked like her, but he reminded himself that it could be the killer wearing a mask. Hell in handbasket, it could be Brynn wanting to kill them, too.

Ruby drew her gun. "I think we should answer the door," she muttered.

"Agreed." He drew his own weapon as they went from his office to the foyer.

There was another knock, but Owen didn't answer. "Deckert, scan our visitor for weapons."

The wall monitor by the door shifted into the scan mode, the camera moving over the woman's body. No gun. But there was a knife in the small backpack she had hooked over her arm. She wasn't making any move, though to go after the knife.

Owen waited until Ruby was side by side with him before he opened the door. Both of them took aim at their visitor.

Brynn's eyes widened, and she made a soft gasp. And in that moment, Owen knew this wasn't an imposter.

This was indeed Brynn.

Not the bright-eyed, defiant young woman, though. She had aged considerably these past three years, along with changing her hair. It was now brown with a short, choppy cut that framed her face. But even with the wispy bangs, he could still see the two-inch-long scar on her forehead. It went from her scalp and into her eyebrow.

Owen lowered his gun, staying ready, though in case she attacked. She didn't. A sob tore from her throat, and she launched himself into Owen's arms.

He continued to stay vigilant, ready to restrain her if she reached for that knife, but she continued to hang onto him as if he were a lifeline. So, Owen hugged her right back.

The relief came. So much relief. Brynn was alive, and while that didn't solve the investigation, it was a start.

"We need to close the door," Brynn muttered, easing back from him. "It's not safe."

Owen did that, still keeping an eye on Brynn, but his niece had shifted her attention to Ruby. She hugged her, too, despite the fact that Ruby still had her gun drawn.

"There are so many things I need to tell you," Brynn added.

"Good because there are so many things we need to hear," Owen replied.

She nodded, pulled off the backpack, dropping it onto the foyer floor, and she glanced around. "I'm glad you didn't move. I've always loved this house," she added in a murmur.

Owen knew that she had, and she'd made visits here as a kid when both Owen's parents and Brynn's dad had still been alive.

Brynn walked into the living area and then turned to face them. "I didn't kill Trent, Howie or that detective," she spelled out.

Owen studied her, looking for any signs that was bullshit. It didn't seem to be, but he reminded himself that he wasn't exactly objective when it came to his niece.

Brynn sank down on the sofa and motioned for them to do the same. They did. Ruby and he took the loveseat.

"Where do you want me to start?" Brynn asked.

Owen had no trouble coming up with an answer. "Three years ago when your blood ended up all over your apartment."

She nodded. "Trent attacked me." Brynn paused, gathered her breath. "He punched me in the face, and my nose started bleeding. I grabbed my phone to call the cops, and he snatched up a skillet that was sitting on the stove, and he hit me with it." She touched her fingers to the scar on her forehead. "And then he hit me here and here." Her fingers went to the back of her head. Then, to the side, just above her right temple.

Hell. Trent had tried to beat her to death. Three blows to the head. Maybe more. Any of those could have been fatal, and all would have no doubt bled a lot.

"I tried to get away from him," Brynn went on, "but he grabbed me by the arm and slung me hard against the wall. He punched me again. And again. And again." She stopped, swallowed hard. "He hit me until I lost consciousness. When I woke up, I was in a strange place with an IV in my arm, and almost every part of my body was hurting."

"A hospital?" Ruby asked.

"No. It was a house." She paused again, her bottom lip trembling now. "And I didn't know who I was, what had happened to me or how I'd gotten there. I had amnesia."

Owen cursed, moved onto the sofa with her and put his arm around her. A few seconds later, Ruby did the same, sitting on the other side of Brynn. Both of them embracing her.

"Trent told me my name was Anna," Brynn went on a few moments later. "He said someone had tried to kill me. He didn't give me many details at first, but later he told me the person who wanted me dead was a dirty cop, Aaron McKinney, who would find me if we didn't stay hidden."

"And you believed him," Owen whispered.

"I did," she admitted. "He was drugging me so that kept my mind in a fog, and I didn't have access to a phone or a laptop. Then, later, he told me I had leukemia and that's why I had to take all these meds and a protein drink that he was also drugging." Another pause. "He also told me that you wanted me dead because that way you could inherit my estate. He showed me fake documents to prove it. And more fake documents to convince me that Ruby was helping you."

Owen cursed. The little shit had been thorough. That way, if Brynn did escape, she'd be too scared to go to Ruby, him, or hell, even the cops.

"Trent did all this himself, or did he have help?" Ruby asked.

"No. There was a nurse named Bonnie. I saw more of her than I did Trent because after…I don't know how long…Trent wasn't around much."

Because the asshole had gone onto living his life elsewhere. Brynn was no longer his obsession. And that led Owen to a pisser of a thought. Trent would have likely murdered Brynn to make sure the truth about the attack never came out.

"A little over a month ago, I had a nightmare," Brynn went on, "and when I woke up, I remembered who I was and what'd happened to me."

"So, you escaped," Owen concluded.

Brynn nodded. "I stole Bonnie's credit and ATM cards, made my way to Austin, where I had a storage unit. The rent on it was still being paid. I assume by you," she said, looking at him.

"Yeah," Owen verified. "You had furniture and things from your mother in there."

"I did, and there was also some gold coins and jewelry. One of Mom's old IDs as well. I used that to pawn the stuff, and the owner didn't take notice of the expiration date on the ID. He also didn't seem to care that I didn't look exactly like the woman in the photo. He gave me five thousand dollars for the stuff, and I've been living off that for the last month while I tried to come up with a plan to regain my life.

So, Brynn had been resourceful, and Owen made a mental note to try to buy back his sister's jewelry. That would have been family heirlooms that Olivia would have wanted Brynn to have. But that was for later. For now, he had to do something he'd failed at three years ago.

He had to keep Olivia's daughter alive and safe.

"Why didn't you contact me after you realized Trent had been lying to you?" Owen asked Brynn.

She squeezed her eyes shut a moment and cursed under her breath. "Because I was an idiot. I mean, I knew who I was, knew he'd attacked me, but I thought that maybe the report he showed me could be true. I wanted to make sure it wasn't before I just…showed up on your doorstep."

That meant she'd gone through a month of hell. Of course, she'd gone through a much worse hell for three years with Trent drugging her and keeping her locked away.

"I used a laptop at a library to do more digging," Brynn went on. "And I was able to find out that you weren't after my inheritance and that Ruby and you were still looking for me."

Good. He was glad she had learned that. Owen hated, though that Trent had put that seed of doubt into her mind.

Brynn reached in her hoodie pocket and took out a piece of paper. "I don't know Bonnie's surname, but that's the address of the last place I was held."

Owen and Ruby exchanged a glance, and taking out her phone, she texted someone with the address. One of her operatives would no doubt check out the place to see if Bonnie was still there, and if so, the info needed to be reported to the police.

Of course, that would also mean reporting that Brynn was alive.

And Owen wanted to hold off on that a little longer. Because the cops would no doubt have to arrest her for three murders and the attempted murder of Trent's father.

"The cops are searching for you," Owen spelled out to her. "They think you're on a revenge killing spree."

Even though she had no doubt garnered that info from the media, it still seemed to give him a hard punch. Brynn made a soft sound, part groan, part whimper.

"The cops believe that because the killer is wearing a mask of your face," he added.

Brynn's head whipped up. No groan or whimper this time. Shock followed by anger. Good. He wanted the anger because Brynn might need it for the fight ahead. Eventually, the killer's endgame had to be to murder Brynn and dispose of her body so the truth never came out.

"Who would want all those people dead?" Owen came out and asked.

"Trent," Brynn readily said. "Killing them would cover up what he did because I believe Howie, the detective, and his parents all helped him in some way. Probably Marlie, too, since she'd do anything for Trent."

Owen was in agreement on that, but there was a piece to this puzzle that Brynn might not know. "Trent and Alice were having an affair."

Brynn showed no surprise whatsoever. "Yes. I found out, and that's what Trent and I were arguing about when he attacked me."

So, that explained why Brynn hadn't gone to her best friend . Brynn must have felt damn alone even after regaining her memory.

"We're all targets," Brynn concluded. "But I know I can't stay in hiding. I've got to confront this, and that's why I'm here. I need your help."

Owen was more than ready to offer it, but Ruby's phone rang. "It's from my tech who widened the search on the camera feed around Trent's apartment. I should take this," she added. "He wouldn't have called unless he'd found something."

Ruby took the call, not on speaker though, probably because if it was bad news she might want to soften it before relaying it to Brynn.

"You're sure?" Ruby asked the tech after several moments of listening. "What about the operative who was watching her?" She paused, no doubt to hear the reply. "All right. Let the cops know."

She hit end call and looked at them. "There's camera feed of a person tossing a hammer into a storm drain about four blocks from Trent's apartment." Ruby paused a heartbeat. "It's Marlie."

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