Silent Secrets Read online

  “Ah, Faith.”

  I pressed my lips together and stared her in the eyes. “I won’t take no for an answer. Saying you’ll think about it, yes. A flat out ‘no?’ Not acceptable.”

  “Faith, I haven’t even met them.”

  “I’ve shown you pictures. Brady's met them.”

  “Met who?” Brady asked, stepping inside Sarah’s office and glancing between the two of us. “What’s wrong?”

  “Bates and Sonya. They’re up for adoption,” I told him bluntly.

  Brady’s brows went up into his hairline. “They are?”

  “Yes, and you and Sarah are going to adopt them,” I declared, hoping I was right.

  Brady glanced toward Sarah with a surprised look, a small smile kicking up at the corners of his mouth. “Sarah?”

  Her eyes widened, realizing he wasn’t flat out opposing the idea. She cleared her throat. “Tom?”

  “Well? Are we, or aren't we?”

  “I-I-I-I- can we? I mean, financially?”

  Brady then walked over to his stunned wife and hugged her, whispering in her ear something I couldn’t hear. Tears spilled down Sarah’s cheeks as she nodded and pulled back, glancing over to me. Tears of joy spilling out the corner of her eyes. “We’ll call the GAL and see what we have to do. Will you help me pick out supplies when it's time?”

  I ran over to them like a crazy woman, crying out, “I love you two!” before arms swept me in and Brady whispered, “Love you too, Kiddo,” while kissing the top of my head.

  ***

  It took a week of paperwork and the quickest home study on the planet before we got the news that Brady and Sarah could bring Bates and Sonya home the beginning of next month. They would be staying as temporary foster children until the adoption went through. I was beyond happy. Instead of me going to SSK by myself, we all went to visit and bond with our new little family.

  It was three days before Halloween when Sarah got the news that her sweet Aunt Annie passed away after writing a passionately harsh review for an online book she’d read. She’d keeled over on the keyboard without ever submitting it.

  I knew it was never good to speak ill of the dead, but I couldn’t help but think that the stress of the last review had sent Aunt Annie over the edge.

  My heart went out to Sarah as she planned for a quick funeral on Halloween. Brady reserved flights for the three of us. I didn't know why I had to go, but both of them thought my going back to Denton County would be good and that maybe seeing my family’s graves might help me to heal.

  I didn't necessarily agree but boarded the plane anyway, after thoroughly kissing each one of my McGuire boys goodbye.

  One for luck, one for fun and one to remind me where home was. With them.

  The funeral took place in the same cemetery where my family was buried, so when the service was over, Brady and I headed over to their graves while Sarah talked with her brother, Grant.

  It wasn’t like we were ditching them or anything, but the three of us were on a time limit. We needed to get back before the first Monday in November so we could set up the kids’ rooms and go get them.

  My brother’s grave was right next to my parents, three rows in, just off the side of the small blacktop road that weaved its way through the cemetery. I moved the dead flowers someone had left on their graves, wondering who it could have been. Then I ran my fingers across their names before reverently placing my own flowers down.

  “People make mistakes. Huge ones, but they still loved you, Faith. They just lost track of who they were and let the abuse of alcohol poison their minds.”

  I stood back, folding my arms around myself and sighed. “I know, but it doesn't make this any easier.”

  Sarah joined us, putting an arm around my shoulders. “You have us now. Plus the McGuire family, and now Bates and Sonya.”

  I sunk into her hug, letting her comfort me as Brady comforted her.

  The three of us stood there until a car came up slowly. We turned, and were surprised to find it was a police car.

  A woman stepped out, along with a man, and they shuffled our way. “Faith Daniels?” the first one questioned.

  My eyes narrowed. “Yeah?”

  Brady stepped forward. “Officer Ranken,” he started, glancing at her badge before holding out his hand. “Officer Tom Brady of the East Rochester County PD. What’s going on?”

  “We have a warrant,” she stated simply, handing over a piece of paper to him.

  The other police officer came over to me. “Please turn around.”

  I snorted. “Are you serious?”

  “Ma’am,” he started out, grabbing my arm and twisting me around, “You have the right to remain silent...”

  “What—” Holy... Holy shit! This was real!

  My eyes swung over to Brady’s shocked face as Sarah cried. “Why? On what grounds?”

  “For the murder of Cyrus Daniels, her father.”

  What. The. Hell.

  Sarah started yelling as Brady tried to reason with them. Sarah was getting out of control and Brady looked like he was out for blood. It needed to stop them before someone got hurt.

  “Stop!” I yelled as they put me in the back of the police car. I was trying to gather up courage, despite my frantic state. If either one of them got arrested themselves, they'd risk losing the kids. “Arguing won’t help,” I called out to them. “Think of Bates and Sonya,” I said to Sarah as she frantically tried to get to me. “I know I'm not my father's killer.” I looked directly at the two of them. "I'm not.”

  “We'll get you out, Faith!” Brady called before my door shut. He grabbed Sarah before heading toward their car.

  “Alright, kid, enough with the drama,” Officer Ranken said annoyed, getting into the driver’s seat as her partner got into the passenger side.

  I pursed my lips. “You’re making a mistake.”

  The police officer whom hadn't given his name yet snorted. “That's what they all say, kid.”

  The police cruiser took off, and I did the only thing I could think of. I prayed.

  Chapter 10

  Even though I hadn’t been to the police station in years, not since Yasmin’s boss found me in that room, the ride was still as uncomfortable and depressing as it had been before.

  We pulled up to the station and drove through the back gates. I held hope that Brady had some connections to get me out of this messed up situation in time to go back home. And when I got there, I was never coming back to Denton County.

  My mind filled with hundred scenarios of what could happen. People were falsely accused all the time and were sentenced. I knew I was innocent, but I feared for the worst. My palms were damp. My heart pounded in an irregular rhythm as I shuddered at the horrible thought.

  Why now? What triggered all of this? Was it me coming into town? I was angry and nervous all at the same time as uncertainty turned in my stomach. I studied the gray, stone wall that made up the police station as Officer Ranken found a spot and parked.

  I shifted, waiting, as the handcuffs behind my back dug into my wrist. My door finally opened and Ranken guided me out of the backseat. I reluctantly followed her and her partner inside the building. My eyes darted around the station, trying to find a familiar face, but it seemed like everyone blended into one another in the sea of blue uniforms.

  They took me to that dreaded interrogation room and sat me down, leaving the cuffs on. Once again, I waited.

  I now had a pretty good idea who was behind my arrest as I glared at that same two-way mirror. It's a good thing they couldn't read minds, because when I got out of this mess, I was going to file a lawsuit against Detective Yasmin for harassment. She’d gone too far.

  After a moment of sitting there, I shifted in my seat, trying to get in a better position to alleviate the pressure from the cuffs on my wrists. I tensed when the door finally cracked open. I had a pretty good guess of who was coming in, and she had enough gall to have a small smile on her lips as she shut the door be
hind her.

  “Well, Faith Daniels,” she said, slapping a file onto the table between us, making me flinch, “It seems like we have a problem.”

  Another person came in, bringing a small tape recorder and setting it on the desk before they left. Detective Yasmin sat back, folded her arms and waited. My blood started to boil as she seemed smug. Who did she think she was? To sit there, accuse me, and not go out and find the real killer?

  She had a witness. Someone who saw. It couldn't have been me because I didn't leave the house. Unless she knew something I didn’t. A sick feeling twisted in my stomach. Was there a hole in the neighbor’s testimony?

  I couldn’t even think about that possibility, so I did the only thing I could do.

  “Why am I here?” I questioned, trying to keep my cool as I raised an eyebrow, as if seemingly unperturbed by her tone.

  “You’re a monster.” I pulled back, shocked at the venom in her answer. “To kill your own father and then beat yourself up to make it seem like he was the one. What made you do it, Faith?”

  Where in the world did she even get such an idea? “That’s entirely not true! You’re making that up!” My voice was rose with frustration and defensiveness. “I want to know how you came to that conclusion. How you even think that I could do that. Marked my skin. Made bruises. Beat myself until I could have died? Do you think someone would do that? Could do that?”

  Palms slammed down on the table as fury in her eyes bore into mine. “If someone was desperate enough,” she whispered, lowly.

  I was numb.

  Detective Yasmin leaned forward, opening up the file folder. Glancing down, she quoted, “‘I don't remember. I don't know.’ Those are the words.” She peered back up at me, sitting back like she had an ace in her hand and continued, “That’s what you told us when you woke up. That you didn't know what happened that night. You lied, Faith. You sat in here time after time listening to me asking you, trying to get inside your head.” Her eyes narrowed. “We’ve done this before, Faith. You answered in the same fashion, but this time I don’t need to ask you anything. I already have your answer.” She stood, putting her hands on her hips as if she was a disappointed mother. “You’re going away for a long time.”

  I shook my head, my whole body trembling with rage and disappointment. I’d had faith in the police system once, but now they’d lost my trust.

  I pressed my lips together and looked down at the table, refusing to let her use me like she was. She’d made her decision a long time ago about me. “I want a lawyer.”

  “Of course, you do,” Yasmin scoffed. “But no lawyer is going to get you out of this.”

  She reached over and pressed play on the tape, and that's when my heart shattered. It was my voice. It was Tyler's Grandmother’s and Talia's voices too. It was the whole conversation we’d had in the truck. Me telling them how I thought I had killed my own father. I felt betrayed.

  Yasmin stopped the tape, and the fight went out of me. I didn't know who to trust anymore.

  “You see, Faith? That was a confession. One that I now have. It will stand up in court. You'll be sentenced despite what you think. Despite who your guardian is. You were thirteen when you killed your father. That means if we’d had proof back then, we could have still prosecuted you as an adult for the murder.”

  Yasmin didn't wait any longer as she took the recorder and the files and walked to the door. Her soft whisper floated to my ears, “No one can save you now, Faith.”

  My soul shattered as I hung my head, biting my lip. Silent tears I had held in cascaded down my cheeks as my mind refused to believe her, but my heart was slowly dying, realizing the truth. Maybe this time, I wasn't meant to be saved.

  Someone came back and put me in a holding cell. It was interesting because I had never been in one before. On TV, they didn't seem all that bad and whoever it was seemed to be in with a few other people.

  For my case, that wasn't so. It was a room surrounded by three walls with the fourth one being made up of those clichéd bars. Three benches that were welded down to the floor rested against the three solid walls for all the comforts of home. I guessed the interior decorator of my holding cell was a minimalist.

  My feelings started to harden as I waited. And waited. I had anticipated seeing Brady, but that dream died when an hour passed and then another. No Brady, no lawyer and no welcome committee. Just little old me.

  Five hours of anxiety and arguing with myself about everything. What I could have done better. That no one loved me. That I was all alone. I had gone to the deepest depths of despair and self-loathing that I had even managed to convince myself that the McGuire brothers were better off without me. Five hours of that crap running through my head until the unthinkable happened.

  I had a visitor.

  And it wasn't anyone I had been expecting. He walked through the far door as if he owned the place and stood just outside my cell. He didn't look happy. He looked concerned for me. What. An. Act. Was he here to gloat? To strip me from what little hope I had left? I couldn't help it that my heart wanted to tear him to pieces. He was truly the enemy.

  “I'm so sorry, Rella.” I flinched at the use of his nickname for me before glaring at him.

  Tucker looked tortured himself, but it was all an act, I was sure. “She should have talked to me. To one of us, before she did what she did.”

  I sat with my arms folded around my legs, my head lying on my knees, and glared at him. I was in defensive mode. I closed my eyes tight, not wanting to have him in my view.

  “What are you doing here, Tucker?” The soulless question broke out of me. I didn't have the energy to argue. I had already done enough arguing in my head that I had a headache. I just wanted him to leave.

  “I'm here to get you out,” he stated. “You're being released into Mr. White's custody. He posted your bail.”

  That had me raising my head to look at him. “What? Why?” Honest curiosity won out.

  “I'll tell you more later,” he said, gripping the bars between us. “I know you don't trust me, but I need you to. Just don’t say anything until we get out of here, ok?”

  “Why?” I was truly baffled.

  “Faith, there is more going on here than you know. Please, don’t talk until we get you out. I know you believe Brady has abandoned you, but he hasn't. He and Sarah are still here.”

  A piece of foolish hope I had beaten down deep inside of me surfaced. “Really?”

  “Oh, Rella,” Tucker whispered, “I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but we are all on your side. My Gram can be sweet and charming but make no mistake; she is hell on wheels. She made you family, and her word is law. Talia had a stupid crush on Lincoln McGuire. I thought it was harmless. I never realized how borderline stalking it was. Faith, someone found out and used it against her. She didn’t want to, but she was scared. Now that we know what happened, we can fix this.”

  “Fix her mistake, not mine.”

  “Both, Faith. We’re going to make things right.”

  My shoulders tensed as the door opened once again, and I heard a set of keys jingling. Tucker moved back as my cell door was opened. Cuffs were placed once again on my raw wrists, and the three of us walked out and down the hall into a room where Mr. White stood.

  “Faith," he spoke, coming near me, but then he stopped. His eyes went over my rumpled state before his worried eyes settled on mine. “Are you—” he cleared his throat nervously. “Are you, ok?”

  “Just peachy,” I told him sarcastically. “It’s not every day that you get to spend five hours with all the peace and quiet you can get in a ten by ten luxurious holding cell that accommodates you with the best firm benches that money could buy, Mr. White. What do you think?”

  Tucker snorted.

  Another uniformed officer came in with what looked like a shoe box. The officer who had escorted Tucker and I into the room spoke for the first time. “You're being released into Henry White's care. You'll be given an ankle bracelet that
will track and monitor where you are. Your preliminary hearing is set for three days from now, after which time you'll be scheduled for trial.”

  The other officer pulled out the big chunky circle thing and gestured for me to put out my right leg. I swallowed nervously. “Can I shower with this thing on?”

  “Yes. You can take a shower. Just no standing in water. No baths.”

  I gave a sigh of relief. Three days was a long time to go without a shower.

  “You have an hour to get to the address you have given before the anklet is activated. After the anklet is set, you cannot leave the house. Faith Daniels,” the police officer said, addressing me directly, “you are now currently under house arrest until we come to escort you to your preliminary hearing.” I nodded, understanding.

  Mr. White escorted me out of the police station along with Tucker and not once did I run into Detective Yasmin, which was a relief. I wondered how they were able to do this. And why had Mr. White come? I didn't know how much my bail was, but I hope he didn’t have to put his house up to get me out. I thought I heard about someone doing that on TV. I was worried. I didn't want anyone to have to risk so much for me.

  It wasn't until we got into the car that Tucker laid it all out once again. His sister, her obsession.

  “Okay,” I said understanding, “I get it, but I still feel so betrayed. How? I mean...” I sighed looking out my window. “I don't know. How are you involved, Mr. White? How come it took you and Tucker to get me out?”

  Tucker glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “I have a small confession. My family is unusual,” he stated cautiously. “We have certain connections, and one of them happens to be here. Mr. White was the one to get you released into his custody. I'm the one that has provided a safe place for us to stay.”

  I mulled over what Tucker had said when we drove up to a set of gates. The gates opened after Tucker punched in some numbers on the keypad off to the side. “What is this place?” I whispered as we drove through.

  There were three buildings on the compound—that's what it was. And when I saw all the motorcycles, I realized what Tucker was talking about. “My family isn’t normal,” Tucker echoed my own thoughts, “but we protect our own,” he finished, fiercely.