28 Days: a romantic suspense Read online

  Alex glanced at the door. “Do they know?”

  “I take it that you didn’t see the governor’s conference?”

  He shook his head. “The news station displayed your photograph. They’re your friends, Alex. Don’t lock them out, especially not now when you’re going to need their support.”

  Alex didn’t know what to think or say as he sat and listened. They may still accept him as one of their own, but they presumed his brother was guilty. He needed to be away from the station house—he couldn’t be here and listen to them all talking.

  Alex finally found his voice. “I’m going to need some time off. Until after...”

  His lieutenant nodded. “After the display I just saw, I have to agree with you. Your leave can start after tonight’s shift, and you call when you’re ready to come back.” He paused giving him a searching look. “I mean that, Alex.”

  Alex nodded and looked around his boss’s office. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. No matter what he’s been convicted of, he’s still your brother.” His boss stood and held his hand out to him.

  He took the offered hand and shook it.

  Moving down to the shower room, Alex didn’t see anyone else, which was just fine because he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what they truly believed about him and his brother. He rubbed his chest where his heart felt heavy with sorrow.

  After his shift, he’d sleep and then make a plan of action. He now had time on his hands and he wasn’t going to just sit back and let them execute his brother.

  He needed to make one last effort, even if it meant finally coming face-to-face with his past.

  Day 2

  7:00pm

  * * *

  As she raced along the sidewalk toward her father, Saige wanted to close her eyes as tiredness overwhelmed her.

  She’d drifted back to sleep the night before with the memory repeating itself and the image of the man in his prison garb flashing in her mind. She needed to know more about him. She was terrified of what she’d remember, but that didn’t outweigh the need burning through her to know.

  Spending most of the day curled up in the brown chair with her laptop, she’d found court documents for appeals that had been filed by the man’s defense attorney, Daniel Sterling, but she hadn’t been able to find any quotes from her statement. She’d found quotes from newspaper archives and couldn’t believe what Jocelyn Peterson, the man’s ex-wife, had said.

  He’s a violent man…

  He loved to use his fists on me…

  He was cruel and unrelenting…

  I’m glad he’s finally somewhere he can’t get to me.

  It had certainly contradicted the comment from his brother, Alexander Peterson.

  He is an amazing and loyal brother. I’ll never believe that he’s guilty of the charges he’s facing.

  His brother loved him and believed in his innocence, and when Saige looked at photographs of the brothers, she could feel a memory teasing her senses.

  But of what?

  Saige felt more confused than ever as she stepped into the foyer of the Renaissance Hotel, her thoughts distracted with how to gather more information and from where. She’d start with her father. She’d ask him if he could get her a copy of the statement she gave, and maybe a copy of the trial itself. Because her reaction to the man she saw on the television bothered her—it bothered her a lot.

  So with those thoughts heavily on her mind, she entered the restaurant, and found her father pacing five feet in front of her.

  When he lifted his head, his eyes softened with relief as he tugged her against him. “Princess,” he whispered against the top of her head, “I was worried.”

  “I’m sorry.” She returned his embrace and pulled away when a server appeared in her peripheral vision. “I got lost in some research.”

  She winced when her father raised a brow in question. “Research?”

  “We’ll talk about it over coffee.”

  Saige turned and followed after her father who was being led by the waitress. They were well known here since it was her father’s favorite place and he had a reserved table whenever he stayed at the hotel. It was outside, in the shade, and set a bit away from the other tables. She had to be around people, usually when she was out alone, but she loved this time with her father and loved that he was concerned enough to make small concessions for her. He hated eating outdoors.

  “So,” he said, as they were seated. “I’m not sure I can wait until coffee to discover what research you’ve been doing.”

  She squirmed under her father’s scrutiny. Sometimes she thought he’d have done well as a lawyer with the way he’d look at her. It was the, I love you, but you better start talking, look.

  “I don’t want to ruin dinner. We only get a chance to see each other a few times a month.”

  He raised a brow and waited for her to answer his original question. He wouldn’t be ignored.

  Saige took a sip of water from the crystal wine glass, wondering how to answer without giving her father a heart attack, because he needed some sort of answer. “If I ask you something, will you be honest with me? And promise not to mention anything to Christina. I really don’t want to deal with her right now.”

  Her father leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Saige, she’s your stepmother,” he chided softly.

  “You know my relationship with her isn’t the best, and it never will be. She’s only ever been concerned about herself.” Saige had his full attention so she continued, “I often wonder why you’re both still married to each other.”

  The only sign that she surprised him was the slight lift of both brows.

  She hadn’t lied and wondered what her father still saw in the woman. Saige would never come out and say it, but she had a love-hate relationship with her stepmother, and couldn’t stand being around her, which was one of the reasons she finally got the courage to move out. She could have stayed in Port Jude, but then Christina would know every tiny detail of her life. Saige stayed within driving distance for her father when she moved to Tampa, which was about two and a half hours away from Port Jude.

  “I don’t know what to say to that.” Her father looked so sad that she reached out and took both his hands into hers and held tightly.

  “I love you, Dad, and I’m not blind. You’re too sweet and need a woman who—”

  “Loves me,” he finished for her. He shook his head. “I’m not getting into that with you, but I’d love for you to tell me that you finally met a young man.”

  “Dad,” she moaned, realizing that as per usual, when the topic of his marriage was brought into the conversation, he deflected. “I’ll let you off this time, but only because I still need to talk to you about something. I don’t think you’re going to like it, either.”

  “That’s why you don’t want Christina to know?” He squeezed Saige’s fingers and, letting go, tasted the red wine that had been poured.

  He motioned to the waiter to continue filling his glass.

  She tried not to fidget under his gaze and succeeded.

  “Ask me your questions, Saige?” Although he sat back looking relaxed, she could tell by the twitching of his fingers that he wasn’t.

  “Okay, I’ll get it over with and hopefully we can enjoy our dinner afterward.”

  “The best idea.” He smiled.

  Inhaling, she met her father’s gaze, and said, “The warrant of execution has been issued.”

  Her father’s eyes darkened, and with a silent breath he closed them while she watched him get his anger under control. “I know,” he admitted, his voice full of weariness before he averted his gaze.

  Saige frowned at her father. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I saw the governor’s press conference last night and planned on telling you today.” He took a long drink of his wine. “I’m sorry, Princess. I should have called. I just know that you don’t watch television, so I figured I had time. Guess I was wrong.”

 
; “It’s okay, Dad,” she reassured him. “Really it is. It was a shock. But that’s what I want to talk to you about.”

  He frowned into his wine before nodding his head, and waited for her to get her thoughts in order.

  “I need to know what happened.” She took a quick drink of water. “I’m not sure whether I want to remember what happened to me or not, but I need to know about the trial. I need to know what evidence was taken from me, and if I gave a statement. I also need to know what the convicted man said.” She reached out and took her father’s hand into hers. “I need to know why, after all this time, even with his death close, he’s never admitted to killing those girls, or what was done to me. Everything I could find online said he’s never once admitted his guilt.”

  Silence descended following her rambling, and her father looked to have aged before her eyes.

  “Daddy, please.” She gripped his hand. “Please help me…I’ve put it off for years. I need to know.”

  Her father took a few more gulps of his wine until his second glass was empty. “Think very carefully, Saige, because once you start reading about the past, your memory may start to return and I’m not sure how wise that is.”

  “Oh, Dad!” Saige moved to sit beside him. “I don’t want those memories back but there has always been a chance they’d return on their own and it might not be when I want them to. Regardless of how…or when…if they do return, I’ll have to deal with them. Since I saw the man on TV yesterday, I can’t get him out of my head.”

  Her father shook his head. “That can’t be healthy after what he did to you”—his voice broke—“or those other girls.”

  She swallowed her hesitation and took a deep breath, she couldn’t put it off any longer, and asked, “But what if he really is innocent?”

  She let that sink in, and when her father snapped his head back as though he’d been hit, she continued, “When I saw him on television, I didn’t fear him. Shouldn’t I have felt something like that? Fear, hate, anger? The truth is I didn’t feel anything like that. I had a sense of security. Why did I feel like that if he’s the one? I have questions and I’ve finally woken up and want answers.”

  Saige leaned back in her chair and stared at her father. Anger flared in her chest and she couldn’t help but feel irritated with her father and his laid back attitude. While she’d been talking, all he’d done was shake his head as though he didn’t want to hear what she’d said.

  “You can’t remember what happened, Saige. Perhaps you saw his photograph and felt sorry for him. If you can’t remember what happened, why would you have felt fear?”

  “I don’t remember anything, but deep inside me the memories are there and my subconscious obviously feels safe with him. I need to know why.”

  Their usual meal was placed before them, and Saige picked up her fork and started stabbing at the rice. “Did I know the man before I disappeared?”

  It was barely noticeable, but her father paused before he carried on eating. She knew he wasn’t hungry and only ate to distract her. It wasn’t going to work on this occasion.

  She’d let her family control her knowledge but not for any longer.

  “Define know.”

  In her confusion, she’d given up on the pretense of eating and glared at her father, wondering where the evasive man beside her had come from. He’d seemed defensive since the moment she’d started asking questions.

  “Why are you doing this? I asked a simple question. Did I know Quinten Peterson before I disappeared? It’s a question that requires either a yes or a no. It’s not difficult,” she snapped, realizing she raised her voice in anger. She shook her head. “I don’t understand why you’re reluctant to talk to me about it.”

  “Dammit, Saige. Why can’t you leave it alone?”

  She sighed. “Because there is a man who has twenty-seven days left on this earth, who has not once admitted his guilt, who I should get a sense of dread from when I see his face. All my questions begin with why and I need them answered. This man is going to die because of me, and I want to make damn sure they have the right person.”

  Sitting back, her father sighed warily. “Princess, he went through a trial. His DNA was all over you and the scene of the crime. He was found with one of the other victim’s shirts wrapped around his arm. He was tried, and convicted. Sixteen out of twenty-five jurors agreed that he was guilty. He’s guilty.”

  Saige paled hearing about the evidence, but she pushed forward, “What happened to the other nine jurors? Don’t they all have to agree, at least in a death penalty case?”

  He shook his head. “No, not in Florida. If there’d been less than ten jurors who voted the accused guilty, then he would have been sentenced to life in prison instead. But it was a supermajority vote, over half of the jurors, so he received the death penalty.”

  “There must be reasons why the other jurors didn’t believe he was guilty.” Saige wanted to know what they were.

  “Please, Saige,” her father begged. “Don’t start delving into his case. Can’t you leave the past alone?”

  She was afraid of her memories coming back from when she’d been taken and of what he’d done to her, but she didn’t think she could give up on finding out everything she needed to know about the trial. She also had an idea on who would gladly help her with documents and transcripts, and if she guessed right, he’d probably answer all her questions if she could convince him that she thought Quinten might be innocent.

  “Maybe I should.”

  Her father visibly relaxed before her eyes. “Thank God, Princess. I sure as hell don’t want you remembering what he put you through. Just leave it in the past.”

  She hated lying to her father, but she couldn’t see any other way. Saige folded up her napkin and placed it on the table. “I’ll be right back. The restroom is calling.” She turned to head inside the restaurant, and proceeded to trip over a laptop bag. Catching herself on the table, she glanced at the guy sitting there. “I’m sorry.”

  “No”—the stranger with dark penetrating eyes quickly lifted the bag to the chair beside him—“I shouldn’t have left it in the way. My apologies.”

  Day 3

  6:00pm

  * * *

  Confusion had wrapped around Alex the moment he’d heard Saige ask her father, “Did I know Quinten Peterson before I disappeared?” He’d left the restaurant last night with the question rolling over and over in his mind. They needed to talk, that much was certain.

  It had been quick thinking on his part when he’d placed his laptop bag in her way and she tripped over it. Why hadn’t she recognized him? He’d kept his back to her father, but Saige had looked him straight in the face, and there had been nothing. No spark…no smile…nothing that had hinted at recognition on her part.

  Why the hell did she ask her father about Quinten? She shouldn’t have forgotten his brother as though he was inconsequential, not after the time Alex knew they spent together, away from prying eyes.

  He thought finding Saige Lockwood would be difficult. In the end it had been easy, thanks to her father’s assistant. She’d told him where Richard Lockwood would be, so all Alex had done was wait…and then follow. He’d been led right to Saige Lockwood’s door.

  He’d wanted to go up and confront both of them in the restaurant, but something held him back and he’d asked to be seated in an area close enough to hear them.

  Saige not knowing who his brother was, had shocked him, and kept him awake for most of the night. Although he still hadn’t worked out what was really going on with her, he was slightly relieved that he wouldn’t have to talk her into anything if she was serious about reading everything she could get her hands on about his brother’s trial.

  Alex wondered whether or not her father really believed her easy acceptance to leave the past alone? Even to his ears she had sounded insincere.

  He’d had it all planned in his head, what he’d say to her, or even how to go about approaching her. Her not recognizing him
presented a new challenge…or maybe an opportunity.

  Originally he hadn’t planned on introducing himself. He was going to just stand in her way until she recognized him. From what he’d overheard and saw, that wouldn’t work now. He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment though. He’d wanted her to be shocked and maybe even scared when he stood in front of her. He’d wanted to see fear filling her eyes as she realized he was there for the truth instead of all the lies she told about his brother.

  He now had even more questions.

  When Alex awoke that morning and made the decision to go straight to Saige for answers, he wondered how she would be with him once he admitted who he was and what he wanted. He was a lot different now, and so was she.

  Gone was the long, blonde hair. It was now a rich, glowing auburn that fell softly around her strong chin and high cheekbones. She still had a delicacy about her that had been present before, it seemed fragile now…or maybe slightly hardened, as though she kept it hidden. He was glad she hadn’t lost the softness, it was one of the things that had attracted his brother. Nothing could change the azure blue of her eyes though, he’d know her from that alone.

  Settling down in his truck outside of Saige’s apartment, he wondered what had happened to Little Miss-Not-So-Perfect. One minute she was in the hospital and the next she disappeared. He’d sweet-talked one of her nurses for information to pass on to his brother, who’d been going crazy wanting to know how his girl was. The nurse hadn’t been much use, but at least he was able to tell Quinten that Saige would live.

  He hated her for the lies, but he didn’t think his brother could hate her even if she was the one giving him the lethal injection. For all intents and purposes, she would be.