“Yes,” I say, escalating my charade. “Could you tell me if Jaxson wears contact lenses?”
“He does indeed,” Jameson answers quickly, sounding intrigued. “He had corrective laser surgery a few years back and his vision improved but he still needs lenses. Is that helpful?”
“More than you would think,” I say, a chill settling in my belly as my suspicions are confirmed yet again.
“How does it relate to the case?”
I’ve piqued his interest but I really have nothing to give him. “I need to go,” I say, hanging up on one of the most powerful men in town.
With the new knowledge still fresh and unprocessed in my head, I rush out of the room. As I pass by my mother’s room, I stop outside the door. I knock but when there’s no answer, I push the door open.
My mother has lived a solitary life but never seemed to mind it. Her room is neat and clean with her books alphabetically organized on the shelves, only two of them by her bedside, exactly as I remember it since I was a child.
On a shelf, a row of framed photos hide the spines of the books. My face at all ages dominates the pictures, but there are a few of my Aunt Beth and her children.
And then there’s a single, unforgettable picture of Madison. She must be thirteen. Her eyes glimmer with the same quality that would one day mesmerize the world. Oh, Maddy, you sweet, sad girl.
Madison never lived in this house. My mother and I moved in with them. Jim’s house was bigger and closer to his work. We did come here occasionally to spend time at the ocean two blocks away, or when Mom had the carpets cleaned or the walls painted at the main house.
There are few but precious memories of Madison running through this house and now there are memories of Jax as well. God, how did this happen? There will always be a heaviness now hovering above every image of my past, a weight from which I might never fully escape.
Tears stream down my cheeks without my permission. I am on the outside of myself. This is not really happening. Even the pain feels hollow in my chest as sobs well and fester. It hits me that I’ve been in denial ever since I heard about Madison’s death, blocking the anguish, keeping my head pinned to a job that is less than meaningless to me.
The more I pace the hallway, peeking through doors into empty rooms, the more the past haunts. Jax’s childhood accident rises like a serpent from some dark dungeon of my subconscious. It’s not a distant echo entwined in my mother’s narration anymore. It’s a tangible, screaming memory that shakes me to the core.
The day little Jack was released from the hospital he left town with his mother. Shortly thereafter, my father left never to return. They were both gone forever and I could feel it just as sure as part of me left with them.
At the end of the hallway my mother meets me with a warm smile. She has always been there for me. I shut her out. I shut everything out.
“You ready?” she says.
I smile for her. She’s been through so much.
My mother has been here the whole time, through all the tragedy and the leaving and the loneliness, but where have I been?
Where have I been my whole life?
—three—
Jaxson
There is no privacy in jail even when you’re in a cell by yourself. It constantly feels like a thousand eyes are watching you, drilling holes through your skull to read your thoughts. As soon as I step out of the Beverly Hills police station, I appreciate the precious gift of freedom and with it the self-worth, self-determination, and privacy that come with it.
I spot Elaine waiting for me, chatting with a younger woman. For a second or two, I allow myself to hope it might be Ella even if the two look nothing alike. I can blame my lack of sleep and the fact I haven’t heard from Ella this whole time. Not a single word. Not good for my mental stability.
Lingering on the steps, I wonder if there’s a way to escape Elaine’s attention when a voice takes me by surprise.
“May I have a word, Mr. Cole?” Esposito says.
I turn back where Esposito stares at me from the entrance of the building, hands in pockets. I walk to him, already cursing my bad luck to find myself stuck between Elaine Parker and Rick Esposito, two people that will do anything in their power to keep me away from Ella.
I have a brutal aversion to the well-dressed detective and it’s not because he was the one to arrest me. It’s because of the look in his eyes when he realized Ella and I were together. The bastard has his eye on her and I’ll be damned if I let him lay a single finger on her.
“Detective, what’s up?” My acting training better fucking pay off so this guy doesn’t figure out I detest him.
Esposito throws a heavy glare at me, taking in the slight bruising of my nose. “You might have high-octane lawyers and a lot of coin behind you, but this isn’t the end.”