Chapter Eight

Mia had to wonder if the morning was going to end with her arrest. Or Birdie’s since it was her blood on the knife. Heck, the cops might end up arresting both of them, but Mia had to hope that Ruby’s reconstruction would work and that Angel’s and her names would soon be taken off the suspect list.

She had to take several steadying breaths when Angel took the final turn toward their old neighborhood, and some familiar places came into view. The library was still there, but the café where Angel, Presley, and she had worked part-time in high school was now a thrift shop for used clothing. The stately church had been converted to a halfway house.

Once, a hundred or so years ago, this had been a somewhat affluent area of San Antonio with its large Victorian-style houses. Over the decades, the community had declined. Some houses had been converted into apartments. Others hadn’t been well maintained, and it’d been one of those rundown houses that RJ and Melanie had bought twenty-four years ago.

Because of the recent background checks that both Angel and she had run, Mia now knew the couple had gotten the house for well under market value and had used donations for the down payment and to do the necessary repairs. RJ and Melanie were now fifty-two but had been in their early thirties then. Of course, as a teenager, Mia had thought of them as old. Ironic, since they’d been younger than Angel and she were now when they’d started here.

“I can’t imagine taking on a houseful of foster kids,” Mia muttered. “Especially teenagers.”

Angel made a sound of agreement. “And they’re still at it.”

They were indeed, and because of those reports, Mia knew they currently had three teenage girls who wouldn’t be there today. The ever-efficient Ruby had arranged for them to be with a trusted neighbor just up the street while the scene reenactment was in progress.

Mia needed a few more deep breaths as Angel pulled to a stop in front of the house. There were already two vehicles in the driveway, and Presley was waiting for them on the front porch. As usual, Presley wasn’t showing any nerves. In fact, he smiled at them and greeted her with a hug.

“RJ, Melanie, and Ruby are inside,” Presley relayed. “But you should probably steel yourself up some. Ruby’s gone all out on this reconstruction.”

That didn’t help settle Mia’s stomach which was already in a tight, hard knot.

Presley led them into the foyer, and Mia felt the slam of memories. So many good ones. This was where she’d met Angel. Where they’d become lovers. They had lives here through those often turbulent teen years.

And then Kenton had arrived.

Definitely no good memories associated with him. He’d been a pain in the ass from the moment he’d stepped foot in the place.

“Mia, Angel,” she heard someone say, and she turned to see Melanie making her way down the stairs toward them.

Melanie was still just as beautiful as ever with her blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. Of course, those eyes were filled with concern today, but just as Presley had, she greeted them with a smile and hugs. When she pulled back from the hug, she was crying.

“Happy tears,” Melanie assured them, but Mia suspected that was only partly true. She had to be as worried as they were. “It was horrible what happened to RJ, Angel, and you yesterday. A shooting. You could have all been hurt. Or worse.” She pressed her hand against her chest. “I hope they catch the person and lock him away so he can’t do that to anyone else.”

“A lot of people are looking for him,” Angel assured her.

“Good. Maybe they’ll find him today.” Her forehead bunched up for a couple of moments. “Look at you,” she went on, inching back and giving them long once-overs. Her smile returned. “Are you two together?”

“Uh, no,” Mia managed. Then, she got a flash of another memory. Of those two scalding kisses just an hour earlier.

Angel and she might not be together together , but there was still plenty of the old feelings between them. Well, one feeling away.

Lust.

It apparently had no expiration date when it came to Angel and her.

“Oh, well,” Melanie muttered. “You two just look so right as a couple, and I assumed you’d found your way back to each other.”

Mia settled for a shrug. Angel went with a grunt.

“The military,” Melanie went on as if she’d had a light bulb moment. “That’s why you two drifted apart. I remember Mia telling me that when she visited while she was in college.”

Angel’s leaving for the military had indeed been a big reason. After his extensive training, he’d gone on back to back deployments to classified locations. However, the biggest factor that had torn them apart was Kenton. The secrets they’d kept about that godawful night had eaten away at them until it’d made it feel impossible for them to be together.

Now, here they were, poking at old wounds and trying to get to the truth.

“Birdie’s not here yet, but I’ll leave the front door unlocked for her. Ruby and RJ are waiting for us upstairs,” Melanie muttered, motioning for them to follow her. “Presley has been catching me up with what’s going on in your lives. Maverick Ops. Impressive! Though Ruby is a little intimating,” she added in a whisper.

Mia had to agree with that.

“But what a stellar operation,” Melanie went on. “I’ve heard nothing but good things about them. Good things about the company you work for, too, Mia,” she tacked onto that with significantly less enthusiasm.

Angel and Presley cleared their throats at the same time. Hardly resounding endorsements for Sentron.

“My boss sometimes cuts corners,” Mia admitted. “Who knows, one day I might get lucky and work for Maverick Ops, too.”

The idea of that had just flashed into her head, but she liked the sound of it. Too bad Ruby might consider her unacceptable employee material because of how she’d handled the situation with Kenton. She had basically destroyed evidence that she had taken from a crime scene.

Yes, Ruby wouldn’t approve of that.

Melanie’s pace slowed considerably when they reached the top of the stairs, and as they started down the hall. Once again, Mia got hit with another slam of memories. Specifically, of that night when she’d made this trip to what was called the boys’ wing. The girls’ rooms had all been on the third floor, with RJ and Melanie’s bedroom on the main floor.

Mia was trying to tamp down her racing heart when she felt something. Angel. His hand brushed against her, and she turned to him, their gazes connecting. He definitely wasn’t smiling or sporting a TLC kind of expression, but the TLC was there all right. She could feel it. And just that touch steadied her.

They stopped outside the open door to Kenton’s room, which had been directly across from Angel’s. Presley’s had been on the other end of the hall where the boys’ breakroom was located.

Mia immediately saw Ruby standing back against the far wall, typing something into a tablet. RJ was next to her, and he was looking down at the floor.

At the blood.

God, there was blood.

Mia felt as if she’d been hit by a Mack truck, but then she realized it wasn’t blood at all but some red fabric spread out on the floor next to the bed. There was also a Spurs’ hat and a pocketknife.

It was like stepping into a nightmare.

And it took all of Mia’s resolve not to turn and run. She forced herself to remember that she was no longer a frightened teenager. Nor was this real. The blood and the “props” weren’t real, and Kenton was dead. He wasn’t going to come rushing in to try to assault her again.

“Birdie should be here soon, but we can go ahead and get started without her. Feel free to adjust the placement of things,” Ruby offered, glancing at Angel and her. “Is this how it looked the night of Kenton’s disappearance?”

“The knife wasn’t here when I saw it,” Mia managed to say, and she gave the hat an adjustment, moving it further away from the fake blood.

“And what time were you up here?” Ruby asked.

“Around seven p.m.” Since this was all about full disclosure, Mia went ahead and spelled things out. “I saw the blood. And the hat. The knife wasn’t there. I took the hat, disposed of it, and went up the street to the library. I didn’t come back until it closed at ten.”

Angel walked closer to the staging and did an adjustment, too. He moved the knife toward the foot of the bed.

“I came in about seven-thirty or so,” he explained. “No hat but the knife was there. I took it and went looking for Mia.”

“Because you thought she’d hurt or killed Kenton,” Ruby said.

Angel nodded. “And she thought I’d murdered him when she saw my hat.”

“But neither of you killed him,” Ruby concluded, typing something into her tablet. “Someone else did and cleaned up the blood. When was your second visit to the room that night?”

“Just before ten,” Angel answered. “I still hadn’t been able to find Mia so I came back here. There was no blood. Someone had cleaned it up.”

“I didn’t know either of you’d been in here that night,” Melanie muttered.

Mia doubted the tears in her eyes now were of the happy sort. No, Melanie was no doubt dealing with her own trauma that night. RJ, too, who had a shell-shocked look on his face.

“What about the three of you?” Ruby asked, volleying glances at Presley, Melanie, and RJ. “How did the room look when you saw it that night?”

“I didn’t see it until the next day,” Presley volunteered. “I was next door with Alisha Carver.”

His then girlfriend. And lover, Mia knew. Because Alisha and she had been friends back in the day.

“I should have been here,” Presley added in a mumble. “I should have been able to stop what Kenton tried to do to Mia.”

“I should have been here,” Angel insisted, and he was even more adamant about that than Presley.

“I hit Kenton, and he was bleeding when he stormed off,” Melanie provided. “I figured he’d go to the cops and report me. I deserved to be reported. He’s the only one of our fosters that I’d ever struck, but I wouldn’t have done it had he not been trying to hurt Mia.”

“Thank you for that,” Mia told her.

Melanie moved in to give her another hug, and the tears weren’t just in her eyes now. They were spilling down her cheeks.

“What time did Kenton assault Mia and how soon afterwards did you hit him?” Ruby asked.

Melanie eased away from Mia, but she didn’t turn to face Ruby. Instead, she looked down at the fake blood. “Around six o’clock. I went up to the girls’ wing to bring back the little vacuum cleaner I’d gotten from their bathroom. The one I normally used was broken, and I’d needed to clean up some flour I had spilled in the kitchen.”

Mia had no trouble recalling Melanie’s arrival that night. Then again, there wasn’t anything about that night she’d managed to shut out.

Melanie swallowed hard. “I saw Kenton and Mia in the hall, and he was trying to push Mia into her bedroom. He had her in a chokehold,” she said, her voice cracking. “I yelled for him to stop, but he didn’t. He told me to back off. Except he cursed and tried to shove me away. That’s when I hit him.”

“And that was around six, you said,” Ruby clarified.

Melanie nodded. “I’d just cooked a pot roast, my usual Saturday night meal, and I could smell it.” She paused. “And smell the alcohol on Kenton’s breath. He’d been drinking, and that’s not allowed.”

Mia had smelled the booze, too, and she suspected Kenton had also been high. He was fond of smoking joints in the little park behind the house.

“What about you?” Ruby continued, turning to RJ. “How soon did you see this room after the incident with Mia and Kenton?”

RJ shook his head, and he seemed to have to pull himself out of a trance before he answered. “Not until much later that night, probably close to midnight. I was at my parents’ house across town. My mom was recovering from cancer surgery, so I was over there most of the evening.”

Because of the reports, Mia knew that both of his parents were now deceased. Which meant there was no one to confirm the exact hours of that visit.

“I took the bus to my folks since I didn’t want to leave Melanie without a car. And after I got home and Melanie told me what happened with Kenton and Mia, I came up here to Kenton’s room,” RJ continued. “I was going to talk to him and tell him that in the morning I would go to CPS and ask that he be moved to another foster family. I didn’t want him here any longer.”

“What happened when you came here?” Ruby prompted when RJ fell silent.

“Uh, Kenton didn’t answer when I knocked so I went in.” RJ stopped and scrubbed his hands over his face. “He wasn’t in here, and there was no blood, hat or knife.”

“That was around midnight?” Ruby questioned.

“Probably closer to one,” RJ corrected. “After I got home and Melanie told me what Kenton had done, she and I talked for a while before I came up.”

The silence settled in the room for several moments before Ruby shifted her attention to Melanie. “And what about you?”

“I didn’t come up here until the following morning,” Melanie was quick to answer. “When Kenton didn’t come down for breakfast, RJ and I went to his room together because I didn’t want to face Kenton alone. There was no blood, knife or hat.”

Ruby nodded, and she looked at her tablet. “I’ve worked out a general timeline based on what you’ve all said. The assault on Mia happened around six. We haven’t heard from Birdie yet, but that’s the last time anyone saw Kenton. Is that right?”

All made sounds and responses to indicate that was correct.

“About an hour later, Mia, you came up here,” Ruby went on. “Why?”

“To kick Kenton in the balls,” she answered honestly. “I hated that I’d let him get to me like that, and I wanted to make it clear that it wouldn’t happen again.”

Ruby kept her stare fixed on Mia. “And you’re certain you didn’t bring your knife with you?”

“Certain. I couldn’t find it. I usually kept it in the drawer of my nightstand, and it wasn’t there.”

Ruby did more staring. “And the blood and hat were here in the room by then but not the knife. You took the hat.”

Mia nodded. “So, I guess that means Kenton was killed between six and seven p.m. that night.”

“It looks that way,” Ruby murmured. “And shortly after you made that discovery in Kenton’s room, you left, and then Angel arrived home.” She shifted her gaze to him. “Birdie told you what had happened with Kenton attacking Mia so you went to confront him. You found the blood and the knife in Kenton’s room, took the knife and went looking for Mia.”

“I did,” Angel said. “I didn’t see Kenton at all that night.”

Neither had Mia after Kenton had attacked her, but that led her to another question she needed answered. “Kenton’s killer put him in that grave. That meant moving the body down a flight of stairs.”

“Maybe,” Ruby muttered, but then pointed to the large window. The bottom of the sill was only a couple of inches from the floor. “One possibility is the killer could have dragged him there and tossed him out. The body would have fallen very close to where Kenton’s car would have been parked. From there, the killer could have managed to get him inside it and drive away.”

“Even if Kenton was larger than the killer?” RJ asked.

“Even then,” Ruby confirmed. “Adrenaline can give a person a lot more strength than they usually have. It could have been enough to hoist Kenton onto the seat and drive off before anyone could see what was going on.”

Yes, Mia could see it playing out that way. There were no street views or exterior lights on that side of the house.

“Another possibility is that Kenton was alive when he got into his car,” Ruby went on. “He could have set up this scene, gone to his car, and been attacked while he was already inside it. The killer could have then driven him to the dump site and buried him.”

That made more sense than the first theory, but Mia didn’t get a chance to verbally play it out because of the sound of approaching footsteps. They turned to see Birdie step into the doorway. She wasn’t alone. Her husband, Roger, was right by her side.

Birdie was wearing a red top and pants that looked as expensive as the rest of her. That included her sky-high designer heels, her hair and makeup, and the diamond earrings that sparkled in her earlobes. She’d definitely come a long way from her time in foster care.

Roger was every bit just as polished and looked as if he were on his way to an important business meeting rather than escorting his wife to what had once been the scene of a crime.

Birdie took one look at the blood, and even though it wasn’t real, she went pale and turned toward her husband, burying her face on his shoulder. A gravelly sob tore from her throat, and it took her several moments before she lifted her head and looked at them.

“I don’t want to talk here,” Birdie said, her voice a tangle of nerves. “Please, let’s go downstairs. There are some things I need to tell you about that night.”

───── ? ────