Cold Case in Cherokee Crossing. Rita Herron

Wade.”

      “What?”

      “I didn’t kill him,” Wade said again, his voice a hoarse whisper.

      Avery gaped at him. Was this a last-minute attempt to save himself from death? “But...you told them you hated him, that you were glad you’d stabbed him.”

      He leaned closer over the table, his look feral. “I did stab him, but he was already dead when I stuck that blade in him.”

      “What?” Avery’s head reeled. “Why didn’t you tell the police that?”

      “Because I thought you killed him,” Hank hissed.

      Avery gasped. “You...thought I killed him?”

      “Yes.” The word sounded as if it had been ripped straight from his gut. “He was in your room, and there was no one else there in the house. And you had a knife. It was bloody.”

      “What?” Avery looked down at her hands. “But I don’t remember that.”

      Hank rubbed hand down his face. “I...I took it from you. You were...hysterical, in shock.”

      Avery tried to piece together the holes in her past. “But...I didn’t kill him, Hank. At least I don’t think I did.”

      Hank’s eyes narrowed. “You said you blacked out?”

      She had lost time, lost her memory. Because she’d stabbed Wade herself?

      Her pulse thundered. Had she let Hank go to jail to cover for her?

      God... “Hank, tell me the truth. Did you see me stab him?”

      “No, not exactly.” Hank rolled his hands into fists on the table, his scarred knuckles red from clenching his hands so tight. “But I heard him going into your room that night. I knew what he was going to do. I’d known it when Joleen left that morning and I’d been dreading it all day.”

      So had she.

      “So I sneaked a knife under my pillow. But he tied me up like always. I lay there and heard the door open, and I got angry.” His cheeks blushed with shame. “Then I heard you crying again, and I got madder and madder. He was a monster, and I was your big brother. I had to do something.”

      “But you did,” Avery said, her heart aching as memories surfaced. “You tried to pull him off me before, and he beat you for it.” She paused, struggling with the images hitting her. Wade on top of her. Wade holding her down.

      Or was that another night? So many of them bled together....

      Nights of Wade shoving Hank against the wall and beating him with his belt. His fists. A wooden mallet. Anything he could get his hands on.

      “I wanted to kill him,” Hank said, his voice gaining force. “So I twisted in the bed until I got hold of that knife and cut myself free. But when I made it to your room, Wade was already bleeding on the floor. His eyes were bulging, and he wasn’t breathing.”

      Avery’s head swam. “He was already dead?”

      Hank nodded. “I thought you’d stabbed him. You were crouched on the bed, crying and shaking. I tried to get you to stop crying, but you wouldn’t. And you wouldn’t talk, either. You just kept staring at the blood, and I heard the siren and was afraid they’d take you away, and you didn’t deserve that.”

      A cold chill enveloped Avery. “Oh, Hank, what have we done?”

      Silence fell between them, fraught with emotion. They were both lost in the horror of that night.

      Finally Avery swiped at her tears. “This is unreal.... You went to jail for nothing. I should have come forward and told everyone what he’d done to me.” Rage and pain suffused her for all Hank had lost. For what they’d both lost. “I’m so sorry.... We have to make this right. We have to get you out of here.”

      Despair settled on Hank’s face, the scar on his temple stark beneath the harsh lighting. “It’s too late now. My execution is already set.”

      She couldn’t let him die for a crime he hadn’t committed. “No, I’ll find a way,” she said. “I’ll talk to your lawyer.”

      Hank grunted. “Not the one I had in the beginning. He didn’t give a crap. But there is a new lady, just out of law school. She came to see me a few weeks ago.”

      “Did you tell her what you told me?”

      Hank shook his head. “I was afraid they’d come after you and arrest you. There’s no way I’d let you end up in this place.”

      Avery’s throat burned with regret, yet her anger gave her strength. “What was this lawyer’s name? I’ll talk to the warden, and then I’ll call her.”

      “It won’t do any good,” Hank said, defeat in his voice. “I told you, it’s too late.”

      “No, it’s not.” Avery took a deep breath. “What was that lawyer’s name?”

      “Lisa Ellis,” Hank mumbled. “But I’m telling you, it won’t make any difference.” He gestured around the room, then at the guard. “I know how things work in here.”

      Avery’s voice gained conviction. “I’m not going to let you die for something you didn’t do, Hank. I’ll talk to that lawyer and if she can’t help, I’ll find someone who will.”

      Avery stood, anxious to make the phone call. Hank had given up hope long ago because she hadn’t been there for him.

      No one had.

      It was time that changed.

      * * *

      JAXON IDENTIFIED HIMSELF to the warden, a chuffy bald man with thick dark brows and ropes of tattoos on his arms, and explained that he wanted to visit Hank Tierney.

      “Yes, you can see him, but this is odd,” Warden Unger said. “Tierney has only had one visitor in the past twenty years until today. Today he’s had two.”

      Jaxon straightened his shoulders. “Who else came to see him?”

      “His sister.” The warden scratched his head. “Obviously with the execution date approaching, she wanted to say goodbye.”

      Or perhaps that lawyer Director Landers had mentioned had spoken with her.

      The warden twirled the pen on his desk. “What brings you here?”

      “My director wanted me to make sure the execution is still on.”

      Warden Unger nodded. “Good. Thought you might be working for that pansy-ass attorney out to get a stay.”

      “I take it that means you think Tierney is guilty.”

      Unger shrugged and dropped the pen. “A jury convicted him. My job is to make sure these animals in here don’t slit each other’s throats, not argue with the court.”

      A buzzer sounded on the warden’s desk, and his receptionist’s voice echoed over the speaker.

      “Warden, Avery Tierney insists on seeing you right away.”

      Unger glanced at Jaxon and Jaxon nodded in agreement. “Send her in.”

      Jaxon had studied the files on the case before he’d driven to the prison. Avery Tierney had been the only person at the house when her brother murdered their foster father.

      She was nine at the time, and according to the doctor who’d examined and interviewed her afterward, she’d been in shock and too traumatized to talk.

      The door opened, and the warden’s secretary escorted Avery Tierney in.

      Nothing Jaxon had read in the file prepared him for the beautiful woman who stepped inside. Avery Tierney had been a skinny, homely-looking kid wearing hand-me-downs with scraggly, dirty brown hair and freckles. She’d looked lost, alone and frightened.