Page 9 of Dangerous Lies

Chief Garcia swallowed it down three bites, finishing the quick meal off with a bottle of water. “Thank you kindly, Clay. I haven’t eaten since dinner and that was a long time ago.” He tossed the empty bottle in the trash and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I’m sorry to drop in so early this morning, but I have a few questions, Megan. Feel up to answering them?”

“Of course. Whatever I can do to help.” She wanted the man who’d assaulted her found as soon as possible.

“How many people have keys to your vehicle?”

“I have two sets. One I carry with me and the spare stays at home.” She frowned. “Why?”

He ignored her question. “Do you know if the spare set is accounted for?”

“It is,” Clay said. “I saw it on the hook this morning when I went to get my car keys.”

The chief nodded. “I figured as much, but needed to be sure.” He pulled out a pad from his front pocket and scribbled a note. “We believe the man who attacked you last night used a device to bypass your security alarm and unlock your vehicle. Normally, criminals use them to steal vehicles, but this time, it was to sneak inside and lie in wait. I’m deeply concerned this was a planned assault.”

“It’s the same man who wrote all those emails, isn’t it?” Clay demanded. “He’s out to hurt Megan.”

“We haven’t definitively linked the emails to the attack, but logic would dictate they’re probably connected.” Chief Garcia focused back on Megan. “I know I asked you this last night, but witnesses sometimes remember details after they’ve had time to process things. Are you sure there wasn’t anything familiar about the man who attacked you?”

Megan tightened her hold on the shawl and shook her head. “No, sir.”

“Have you had a run-in with anyone lately that made you uncomfortable? Had a confrontation with someone in town?”

She breathed out. “No, sir. I get whispers and funny looks from time to time—especially since the investigation into Oliver’s accident was reopened—but that’s normal. Knoxville’s a small town and people gossip. But no one has been aggressive or directly hostile.”

“What about Wesley Taylor?”

Megan blinked in surprise. “Oliver’s twin? Does he even live in town? Last I heard, he was in the military.”

“He moved back around nine months ago.” The chief frowned, keeping his gaze locked on her. “I take it you didn’t know that?”

“No.” She fiddled with the fringe of the shawl. “The last time I saw Wesley was at Oliver’s funeral. He told me to leave the church and stay away from his family.” She swallowed, the sting of that moment still sharp after all these years. “I haven’t seen him since.”

Nana placed a comforting hand on Megan’s shoulder. “Do you think Wesley has something to do with this, Chief?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled a plastic evidence bag from his coat pocket. Inside was a photograph. “This was found near the lake. Do you recognize it, Megan?”

Megan took the bag from his outstretched hand. It was an old photo, worn and ripped on both sides, as if it’d been handled too many times. Oliver was on the left, young and carefree. His mop of dark hair was mussed, and he wore a football jersey. To his right were his twin, Wesley, and a younger Jax. The brothers were happy, arms wrapped around each other, caught in mid-laugh. The background was blurry and hard to distinguish.

“I’ve never seen this picture before.” She looked up at Chief Garcia. “Jax is in the photo. Have you asked him?”

“Yes, right before I spoke to you. He thinks it was taken just before he left for college, shortly after Oliver’s sixteenth birthday.”

“I wasn’t living in Knoxville then. Oliver and I became friends after I moved here during my senior year.” Confusion set in. “I’m sorry, you found this near the lake? So you think the attacker dropped it?”

“Possibly. It was discovered in the area where you and the attacker tussled.”

Megan shuddered, remembering the sheer terror of being yanked out from beneath the bush by her ankle. It was by the grace of God she’d survived.

“Have you spoken to Wesley?” Clay asked, his tone sharp and protective. “What does he say about this?”

The chief’s jaw tightened. “Officers went to his cabin but could not locate him.”

Silence hung heavy in the room. Megan’s mind spun. Wesley had never liked her—and she couldn’t blame him. Megan had been an integral part of Oliver’s drug days, a bad influence that led to his twin’s death. But why come after her now? It’d been ten years.

Then again, Wesley hadn’t been living in town until recently. Had he decided it was time to get revenge?

“I know you’re all worried,” Chief Garcia said, his expression both serious and understanding, “but my department is working hard to solve this case. What I don’t want is for assumptions to be made based on my questions or this photograph. Wesley is innocent until proven guilty. He may have nothing to do with this.”

Megan prayed that was the case. The emails were chilling. The attack, terrifying. Being assaulted by a stranger was bad enough, but that someone from the Taylor family—someone Oliver had loved and trusted—wanted her dead? It was far more personal. And more dangerous. The attacker hadn’t acted on impulse. He’d planned the assault carefully, which meant he might try again.

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