HIS Destiny (H.I.S. #5) Page 2

  The gloom of the facility sent a shiver slowly snaking up Kelly’s spine and branching out to her fingers and toes. She tugged her black cashmere scarf up higher and moved forward, remembering her goal of obtaining a new twist to a story she had previously covered. Adrian Copeland had been convicted of property insurance fraud and providing false statements to the insurance commissioner. She had followed his story closely and received high praise for her news coverage.

  Oddly enough, Adrian had contacted her pleading his innocence, and that he needed her to help clear his name. It seemed strange that he’d asked for her as she had written about his crimes and the overwhelming evidence against him. Why me? had bounced through her mind since she’d received his phone call.

  Adrian had reportedly hired William Darling, a seedy, conniving arsonist, to torch his businesses for the insurance money. William had testified against Adrian, though, with the promise of immunity for his testimony. Both men disgusted Kelly. Dishonest, crooked, and greedy only began to describe what the criminals stood for. Adrian received eleven years prison time. William ended up receiving a worse sentence even after his testimony, though it hadn’t been administered by the justice system. A man named Jason Brock had murdered him with a single gunshot to the head.

  It appeared that Jason and Adrian had been placed in the same correctional facility. Both asked to meet with her today. Kelly’s curiosity piqued to its highest level. What a story this would make!

  With the bits of dirty snow and ice crunching under her boots, she made her way to the prison entrance gate. After having her identification scrutinized, going through doors and gates that had to be unlocked for her, and one unwelcome search, Kelly finally realized what she was doing. She was standing inside an actual prison. Her body quivered. What am I getting myself into talking with a murderer?

  Kelly’s fear dissipated when she saw Paul Lintz—an old friend of hers who worked in the facility as a correctional officer. He greeted her with a smile, then looked at her sternly. “I’m not happy about your being here. I take it your boss and the warden are friends since not only did you get a private room, but you’re seeing two prisoners.” He paused. “Two men that you should leave alone.” With a sigh and a reluctant wave forward, he continued, “But, come on.”

  Her damp rubber soles squeaked as she walked down the corridor, and it echoed off the walls, amplifying the sound. Outside of legal representation, the meetings had been an unusual request, but she wouldn’t balk at how it had happened. With a smile, “I imagine so,” was all she managed in reply.

  “You going to tell me why you’re meeting with someone you had the pleasure of exposing in your articles?”

  She cringed. According to Adrian, there was new information that the courts refused to consider. How could she pass that up? Instead of explaining it all to Paul and admitting how much she relished in the thought of having a new twist to the story, she shrugged and smiled. “I’m just curious.”

  “Hmph.” Disbelief wrapped in his voice. “Well, I’m not comfortable having you alone with them. Especially a murderer like Jason, but I don’t get a choice. I’ll be right outside the door.”

  Being alone with Jason Brock wasn’t something she looked forward to either. The man had admitted to killing William Daring. Her heartbeat thumped hard against her rib cage at the thought of being closed in a room with a convicted murderer. She couldn’t stop her mind from screaming that she was taking a huge risk for a story.

  After inhaling a deep gulp of air, Kelly stood straight and steeled herself against the unrealistic notion of what could happen. There was no reason he’d attempt to kill her, especially in here. Paul ensured her all was safe for visitors. She trusted Paul with her life.

  She had to put Jason’s crime on the back burner in order to remain objective and focused. He claimed to have heard William’s last words before he shot him in cold blood. Something that Adrian Copeland felt should be made public. Damned that investigative journalist mind of hers. Of course she had to know.

  They arrived at a locked door, and Paul looked down at her. His brows furrowed. “Be safe. I’ll be right outside.”

  He inserted the key into the lock, turned it and preceded her into a room with a small table and two metal chairs. She inwardly sighed. Before she had much time to reflect on how the government should do something to liven up the room, so visitors weren’t reminded of the oppressive environment, the door opposite them opened. Dressed in a prison jumpsuit, a man entered with a guard. It was only then that she noticed Paul had stepped in front of her. Not blocking her view, but letting Jason Brock know she was protected. A fat lot of good that did when the two of them were alone.

  But, when Kelly sized up the murderer, she almost laughed. Jason Brock, a thin man, stood only about five foot nine. Her body immediately eased. This was a dangerous murderer?

  Believing what criminals said was tough since some would say anything to get their sentence reduced. Jason, however, wasn’t asking for that. He claimed to just want to set the record straight. To clear Adrian’s name. That made this even more intriguing. What exactly had Jason and Adrian discussed behind closed doors? Her blood surged, energizing every cell with a dash of euphoria at that thought. A new investigation always invigorated her.

  She scooted around Paul and stood behind a chair. “I’m Kelly Williams. You wanted to meet with me.” She raised an eyebrow at the prisoner.

  “I ain’t talking with either of them in here.” Jason motioned toward Paul and the guard.

  Shoved forward by the guard, Jason moved and dropped in the seat at the table. After the guard had cuffed him to the table, the guard turned away.

  Paul touched her forearm to gain her attention. She turned back to him. “Remember,” he said, “I’ll be right outside the door.” He glared at Jason, then turned and walked out of the room, as did the guard. The closing of the two doors seemed so final, it gave her a moment’s hesitation, and nervousness attempted to gnaw at her. Kelly shook it off and sat in a chair.

  Kelly leaned back. “Now, I must remind you that I am not legal representation nor am I a private detective. I’m an investigative journalist for Baltimore News First. I may or may not look into your story. The confidentiality level is yours to decide. Before we begin, are there any questions on that? Are you clear there are to be no expectations from this meeting?”

  Jason nodded and grumbled, “I understand.”

  When he didn’t say anything else, she started with her questions. “Why are you coming to me with this and not the police?”

  The man’s shoulders sagged, taking a pitiful stance to a whole new level. So much for the big, bad murderer she’d built up in her mind. “I did tell them, but they didn’t believe me.”

  That figured, considering his status as a convicted felon. “So, why me?”

  He looked bewildered. “You were the one who worked hard on the story of Adrian and William. I thought you’d want to know the truth.”

  Excitement sliced through her veins, leaving a tingle in its wake. They’d supposedly already had the truth. “What truth is that?”

  “William said Adrian didn’t hire him.”

  Her breath caught. Since Adrian also wanted to meet, she should’ve expected this, but it still came as a shock. And not so believable. Recovering, she responded dryly, “And, you came forward with this after you met Adrian? Makes it a bit hard to swallow.”

  Jason shook his head. “I came forward with it because he doesn’t deserve to be in here if he didn’t do what they say.”

  Interesting. When to trust the word of an unscrupulous arsonist? Did he tell the truth during the trial, or when he had a gun to his head? Truly, both were difficult to believe. William had been a career criminal who could’ve lied under oath. Then, with his life on the line, he said Adrian didn’t do it. But why change his story?

  Narrowing her eyes, she wondered what was in it for Jason. Absolutely nothing as far as she could tell. His sentence was for murder, and
he’d made a deal with the prosecutor for a shorter sentence. “What’s in this for you?” she asked bluntly. No sense wasting her time. The hope was he answered honestly. She almost laughed out loud at that thought.

  “Nothing except peace of mind. I have a family, and I know what it’s doing to them while I’m here. Adrian has one, albeit a grown child, and his son doesn’t deserve the pain and anguish of his father being locked away for something he didn’t do.”

  Touching, but still, she remained skeptical. That was what kept her sharp in her field. Needing to know more about this man, she changed tact. “What happened? Why’d you do it?” Kelly had read what had been available on Jason, but something inside—some instinct—told her that it hadn’t been what came from his heart. That, she wanted to hear.

  A heavily burdened sigh escaped the man. “I’m a carpenter. Times were tough, and I’d been out of work for close to six months. My wife, two girls, and I were about to be put out of our home. Heck, we’d barely had enough to eat.” He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the effort. “Every day I went out to find work, and every day I failed. Then one day I found an envelope in my car—my locked car—with a thousand dollars and a note that I had a job if I wanted it.” Leaning forward, he dropped his head low to reach his chained hands. “If only I’d known.”

  While he took a moment to recover, Kelly assessed his body language. The man was troubled, possibly filled with guilt. Maybe he regretted what he’d done and what his family was now dealing with due to his incarceration.

  She was about to speak when he looked up and continued, “I had no choice. I took the money to the bank and bought ourselves a little more time under the roof of a house I helped to build. Nothing happened, but I was nervous since I didn’t wait to see what job it was before I spent the money. Two days later, I found out. A second note appeared in my car, with another grand, telling me exactly what I needed to do and that it would pay me ten thousand dollars.”

  He shook his head. “I went home, realizing the first money had only delayed the inevitable—unless I did this job, I’d be a victim myself. It turned my guts inside out. I couldn’t return the first grand. It was already spent. So I knew I had no choice. That night, I kissed my wife and girls goodnight, then grabbed our gun and left the house.”

  “You found William at his apartment?” That much she remembered.

  Nodding, he continued, “Yeah. All I could think about was my sweet babies and wife about to lose their home and criminals like William roaming the streets. The note told me I needed to knock off William because he torched some businesses and more were to be set on fire.” Jason shook his head.

  “William pleaded for his life and asked why he was getting knocked off. I told him someone wanted him dead for torching businesses. William laughed in my face. Although I never mentioned a name”—Jason stared boldly at her, pleading—“I didn’t know any, he said that he promised to keep lying about Adrian hiring him to do the jobs. When I said there were supposed to be more, he laughed and said that was doubtful since his boss only wanted to ruin Adrian. Now that he was in jail, it didn’t matter.”

  Jason shifted in his chair. “Then he laughed again. Laughing like I was some idiot or something. I was so confused that I didn’t notice when he reached for the gun. There was a struggle, and well, the gun went off. I ran. Hadn’t thought of fingerprints. They wouldn’t have had them on file if I hadn’t had a drunken fight while in college.”

  Jason closed his eyes. “I’m so sorry I ended that man’s life. Criminal or not, he didn’t deserve it. Now, my family’s no better off than they were before, and I can’t help them.” Jason’s voice broke near the end of his sentence.

  “But why come forward now?” Kelly asked.

  “I can’t bring William back. I can’t change what I did. But, if I can get an innocent man out of jail, well, then at least I accomplished some good in my life.”

  Before she could formulate an appropriate response, a knock sounded on the door, and Paul stepped into the room, scanning the table and Jason before looking at her. “Time’s up.”

  Kelly nodded and watched a second guard unlock Jason from the table and walk him from the room. Her thoughts spun on whether to believe him or not. Even if she did, how would she prove his innocence? The police had ignored this new information, why shouldn’t she follow suit? What reason would he have to lie though? Did Adrian promise him money in return for helping to set him free?

  Releasing someone the DA convicted of a crime would go against their office’s record, even if they actually found the guilty person or persons, so why put themselves out for a known criminal? She guessed justice wasn’t always served.

  Biting the inside of her mouth, she lost herself in thought. It was no secret that her articles bolstered his guilt. She’d never actually accused Adrian in her articles, but she’d put a great deal of circumstantial evidence out there. She’d been so positive he was guilty. Could she have been wrong all along? Kelly flinched. She’d listen to Adrian—truly listen and not patronize him—to see what came of this new information.

  No sooner had she made her decision when Adrian was led into the room where she’d met with Jason. At fifty-three, Adrian was still a striking man with his dark hair that was mostly gray and dark brown, almost mysterious-looking eyes. Although thinner than Kelly remembered him, he still had an appealing figure for a man.

  Assuming a standoffish, professional persona, she didn’t stand for his entry, only nodded. “Mr. Copeland.” She gestured to the chair across the table for him to sit, hoping the slight tremble in her hand didn’t show. After sliding onto the chair, he leaned his forearms on the table, clasping his hands together before being cuffed to it by the guard.

  After being left alone, he spoke. “Thank you for coming, Miss Williams. Did you speak with Jason?”

  The eager, hopeful look tugged at her heart. Stay strong. “I did,” she answered. “But, I’m not sure what you want me to do about it. And, I’m not printing a story with just his confession, and I see no way to corroborate it. In fact”—she leaned back in her chair, keeping herself far from him—“I’m surprised you contacted me about this.”

  His eyes widened. “You’re perfect. If anyone can prove me innocent, it’s you. I know from experience that you don’t let go of a story, and you’d want your own evidence to prove me innocent.”

  In an instant, her hands shot up in a surrender movement. “Whoa. I’m not going to prove you innocent. I’m not the police or a private investigator.”

  “But you’re a professional who prides herself in getting it right.” He nodded. “Yes, I looked into you. And”—he stressed the word—“I think you want to get this right. It’s got to be getting to you to know I might possibly be innocent.”

  Damn him. It was. Not that she’d tell him. “If the police don’t believe it, why should I?”

  “Because the police won’t admit they were wrong. They only listened to that bastard William who lied.” Anger lanced so strongly through his words, she felt it in her bones.

  Still reeling from the onslaught of the vehemence in his statement, she questioned, “Why not hire a private investigator?” That was what she’d have done. She almost shook her head. No, she’d probably have gone to the press also. Yet, she might be biased.

  “And pay them how?” He raised his eyebrows. “They took everything my ex-wife—the bitch—hadn’t already taken. My son is struggling to pull it all back together. I won’t take from him. Besides,”—he smiled confidently—“I think you’d do a better job.”

  She probably would, if she made the time. Releasing a small sigh, she nodded. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll listen.”

  Relief washed across Adrian’s face. “That’s all I ask. And, in return, I have some information I overheard that you might want to hear. About the death of your fiancé.” He smirked, and her stomach lurched.

  Kelly’s nerves tightened. Her confidence and strength instantly washed aw
ay.

  Later, as she made her way to her car, still reeling from the interview, she tried to process what Adrian had told her about Brian’s accident. His death. Part of her doubted the validity of his statements, but she wanted to know who had taken her fiancé’s life so needlessly.

  As she approached her vehicle, Kelly noticed the trunk was open. Hadn’t she closed it? She picked up her pace. Once at the back of the vehicle, she swallowed hard. An icy chill slid down her spine. Kelly looked around at the sound of squealing tires, wondering if that was her thief escaping.

  Unsettled, and dreading what she’d find, she reached down and slowly lifted the trunk lid so she could see inside. A quick glance confirmed her purse had been stolen. There’d only been one other thing in her trunk, and it was also missing. Brian’s large suitcase that had been stowed there until she could deal with its contents. Deal with the memories associated with it.

  Although angry at losing her purse, she shook her head in disbelief. Now, who the hell would want Brian’s clothes?

  Kelly slammed her trunk closed and entered her car. Once seated, she blew out a deep, long sigh. Emotions, mainly hormone induced, spiraled out of control. Her eyes tried to produce tears, but she held them at bay. Jason. Adrian. Brian. Information overload. But, there was one other person that entered her mind, as it often did on occasion whenever she reflected on her life. Trent McKenzie. The only man she ever truly loved. Deeply.

  Where was he now?

  SITTING ON THE secluded beach on the Gulf Coast they’d found, Trent McKenzie and Jamie Michaels laughed at all they’d done while traveling. Once he’d recovered enough to leave the hospital after surviving the bomb blast where he’d saved a little girl’s life, Trent had prepared to hit the road on his bike and never return. Too many painful memories and problems awaited him in Baltimore.

  As for Jamie, she’d been his constant companion these last few months. Initially, he’d balked at having company on his pity party tour, and that was truly what it had been planned to be whether he’d officially called it that or not. That had been Jamie’s label for it. The woman believed in speaking her mind—no matter how blunt. But then, he’d learned why she’d been so insistent to join him on his travels.