Raine glanced back and forth between her brother on the other side of the glass and Callum, who was standing after insisting once again she take the only stool in the little partition. But they weren’t sharing the phone this time. Instead, Callum was firing questions at her brother, trying to get as much information as possible before their visit ended. And although her brother had been unbelievably sweet and apologetic to her when she’d returned, his disposition had turned sullen and angry beneath the barrage of questions that Callum was asking.
If it was anyone else, at any other time, she’d have demanded he leave her brother alone. But this was what she’d wanted, what she’d risked everything to get—a top-notch investigator doing everything he could in an extremely limited time frame to try to save her brother’s life. For that reason alone, she clasped her hands together and forced herself not to intervene.
“Her name was Alicia Claremont,” Callum snapped into the phone. “Quit calling her that woman. Have some respect for the victim. If we’re able to get you a hearing, you need to adopt a better attitude. Otherwise, you’ll alienate the board and they won’t bother to help you, regardless of what kind of evidence we’re able to assemble.”
Joey didn’t exactly appear contrite as he responded. But whatever he said seemed to placate Callum, to some extent. He fired off more questions about the case, in rapid succession, barely giving her brother time to respond to each one. It was likely because the clock above the glass kept ticking away their remaining few minutes. But she also suspected it was Callum’s interview style, at least in this situation, that catered to her brother’s personality. The rapid-fire questions gave Joey no time to be sarcastic or flippant as he often could be. It forced him to let down his guard and say the first thing that came to mind, instead of trying to paint himself a certain way or avoid the uncomfortable questions. She admired Callum’s skill and hoped he was getting what he needed in order to make his decision on whether or not to continue trying to help him. If Joey didn’t convince Callum that he at least could be innocent, then Callum would drop his investigation.
Please, God, she silently prayed. Help Joey convince Callum that he’s not a murderer. If Callum doesn’t help him, I don’t know what else to do.
Twenty minutes later, after a tearful goodbye to her brother, she was in Callum’s SUV as he drove them outside the last of the prison gates. As always, when leaving her only sibling, there was a mixture of relief and grief inside her. Being inside those gray walls was overwhelmingly stressful. But knowing that her brother, unlike her, couldn’t walk out, maybe never would, had her fighting back tears.
As if he understood the turmoil going on inside her, Callum remained silent. Occasionally, he glanced over at her, as if concerned. But he didn’t intrude, didn’t push. He gave her the space she needed. And for that, she was grateful.
They were well on their way back to Gatlinburg before she finally had her emotions under control enough to say anything.
She cleared her throat, and straightened in her seat. “What did you say to my brother?”
He glanced at her, before putting on his blinker and passing a slow-moving car. “I said a lot of things.”
“I mean when you two were alone. After that, when I came back into the visitation room, he’d snapped back to the brother I remember. How did you make that happen?”
He shrugged. “I reasoned with him.”
She clenched her hands in her lap. “I love my brother, more than you’ll probably ever understand. But I also know him better than anyone. He deals with stress and fear by becoming belligerent and rude. Somehow you managed to make him remember his manners and give me a rare glimpse of the way he used to be, before...before the police pressured him into that false confession and destroyed his life. Whatever you did, thank you. Seriously. That was a rare gift, to see him once more the way he once was. Thank you.”
“I’m glad I was able to help.”
“You did. You really did. And I’m hopeful that you’ll continue helping. Did you get the information that you needed to make your decision?”
“Are you asking if I think he’s not guilty of murder?”
“Yes.”
He passed another car before answering. “Honestly, he didn’t tell me anything that made me think he’d been railroaded into a conviction. He wasn’t on drugs or drunk when he confessed. He readily admits that. And he doesn’t have an alibi.”
“Correction, he has an alibi. Being home alone isn’t a crime.”
“No. It isn’t. But if it can’t be corroborated by some other means, it’s useless as a defense.”
“He’d never even met Alicia. Why would he kill her?”
“One of his friends said he saw Joey and Alicia get into Joey’s truck outside a bar the night she was killed.”
She rolled her eyes. “Friend? We’re talking about Randy Hagen? That guy would do anything for his fifteen minutes of fame. He and Joey weren’t friends anymore, hadn’t been for a while. Randy had grudges against my brother. I don’t believe anything he said on the witness stand. Neither do my brother’s lawyers. They talked to him again a few days ago trying to get him to recant. The jerk refuses.”
“Maybe because he was telling the truth. His testimony matched your brother’s confession.”
“I told you—”
“The confession was coerced, says everyone who’s ever confessed.”
“It was. The detective who interviewed him—your former boss, Farley—had just finished interviewing Randy. Then he took that information into the interview of my brother and lo and behold my brother’s so-called confession matched.”
He shrugged noncommittally.
She crossed her arms in frustration. “Are you going to help him or not?”
He was silent so long that she was convinced he was trying to figure out how to let her down. No doubt he’d made up his mind about Joey’s guilt before they even entered the prison. Her brother’s demeanor hadn’t helped. And his answers to Callum’s questions must not have done him any favors.
What was she going to do now? Tomorrow would mark twelve days until his execution. The two new lawyers Raine had recently hired hadn’t made any real progress. Callum was her last resort. Was she really at the point of having to give up? Was there nothing else she could do to save the life of the only family member she had left?
She looked out the window just as they passed a highway sign. She frowned and noted another sign coming up ahead. “We’re on Highway 36? That’s not the way to Atlanta. You know a faster way to Gatlinburg?”
He surprised her by smiling. “Not hardly. But it’s the fastest way to Athens.”
She jerked around in her seat, afraid to hope. “Athens? Why?”
“Now who’s pretending to be obtuse? It’s the scene of the crime, the best way for me to get the lay of the land, to see what the killer saw, make sense of some of the reports I read and compare them to what your brother said today.”
“Does that mean you’re—”
“I’m going to work your brother’s case, at least until I find out he’s guilty. The second I’m convinced of his guilt, I’m off the case.”
She impulsively took off her seat belt and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Since he’s not guilty, that’s not a worry. Thank you, Callum. Thank you, thank you, thank you. This means everything to me.”
He chuckled and gently pushed her back. “It would mean everything to me if you put your seat belt on. Accidents are never planned and I don’t want you flying through the windshield. I’m already going to have to get a new paint job. Replacing a broken windshield on top of that would be a major headache.”
She laughed and clicked her seat belt into place. “Nice to know you care. About your car, that is.”
“I do, you know.” He glanced at her, his smile gone, his gaze locked onto her with an intensity that stole her breath. “I care what happens to you. I respect you, admire your courage and willingness to give up everything you’ve worked for in order to help your family. That kind of loyalty is rare, inspiring.”
She blinked, her face growing warm before he finally looked back at the road. “Thank you. I appreciate that. I, ah, admire you as well, to be completely honest here. Even knowing that you worked on my brother’s original case, even if it was only running errands for the lead detective, I wouldn’t have come to you for help except that I read about your successes as a detective later in your career. And, of course, for Unfinished Business. That was the final factor that made me decide to—”
“Kidnap me at gunpoint?” he teased.
Her face heated even more. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”
His grin widened. “Probably not.”
“Well, I guess it was worth it if it made you decide to work the case. Because I’m so courageous, of course. And loyal.”
“There’s that, yes. But I’m in this for my own selfish reasons as well. I don’t know that I’d have bothered even going to the prison or reading the files if it wasn’t for the information you gave us on the serial killer we’ve been trying to catch. Everyone working that investigation is digging into your research. We’re pinning our hopes that it’s the key to finally stopping this killer, before he claims another victim.”
Her stomach lurched as she forced a smile. Once he focused on the road again, she focused on the scenery passing by her window. What had he said exactly? That everyone was pinning their hopes on the information she’d provided? Were they all working that angle instead of the leads they were following before she came along?
Nausea roiled in her stomach. Her plan had worked, a little too well. She clenched her hands in her lap and drew deep, even breaths to stave off the panic rising inside her.
Sweet Lord. What have I done?