No One Knows Part 29

She shook her head, as if she could shake some sense into the situation. "I know it sounds insane. There was so much blood that night. So much. It was all over the place. He couldn't be alive. But there was no body. And the police certainly put me through hell."

"They thought you killed him, like everyone else. You had a window of opportunity. You were damn lucky the case fell apart during trial."

"Did you think I killed him?"

He met her eyes. "I know you, remember? I know what you're capable of. Murdering the man you love is beyond you."

She fisted his hands on her knees. "What if he'd done something terrible? What if I found out everything about him was a lie? Do you still think I'm not capable?"

His tone was wary. "What are you saying, Aubrey?"

She waved her hand, took a breath. "Meghan was married to a private investigator. His name is Daniel Cutter. He said Josh was working with Allen, running drugs. He thinks Josh shot Allen the night he disappeared. That Allen is now out for revenge, and could be coming after me."

"Whoa. Seriously?"

"That's why I want to call Arlo. I want to protect myself in case something is about to go down. Protect us. You're my family, Tyler. My brother. I may get mad at you sometimes, but I don't want anything bad happening to either of us."

She felt him puff a bit with pride at the title, but the tension continued.

"Still, the DA. It's dangerous territory. And you haven't exactly had good luck with the police in the past. Let me finish drying out. I'll keep you safe."

"Saving me again, Tyler?" She said it quietly. He didn't answer right away, just draped a heavy arm across her shoulders. Winston quit worrying his stick and joined them. She petted his silky ears.

"Do you remember that night at all?"

"Yes," she said softly. "Unfortunately, I remember all of it. Like it was yesterday."

"I damn near killed you. Just the idea of it, what you were going through, I wondered for a minute if I should just snap your little neck, make it look like he did it, then I'd have a self-defense claim, and you wouldn't have to live with it."

Jesus. Unpredictable had nothing on Tyler.

"I'm glad you didn't."

"Me, too. Though now, looking at all you've had to deal with, I sometimes wonder if I did right by you."

She shook her head. "You did the best you could, Tyler, and I'll never forget that. But I'm not a little girl anymore. I'm capable of taking care of myself now. And I refuse to sit back and let Derek Allen take my life from me."

"You don't have to face the world alone, Aubrey."

They sat there together on the step, each remembering, not speaking, until her stomach started to growl.

"I'm going to call Arlo. It's the smart thing to do. And then I'll make you some lunch."

CHAPTER 50.

Aubrey Seventeen Years Ago Aubrey was twelve when it happened.

Sandy had to work the late shift. Latesha and her latest beau were off somewhere. Julia was asleep in the upstairs bedroom, and Morgan was on a sleepover. Tyler was running on the streets with a bunch of his so-called friends. Aubrey was alone downstairs when the knock came on the door. She went to it, glanced out the peephole. Roger. Sandy's most recent acquisition.

Sandy wasn't all bad. She kept them fed and clothed, and Aubrey was grateful that she didn't try to force them out on their ears when she found out about Latesha and Tyler and the bedroom reindeer games that the three had been playing. It was rare for children in the system to stick in one foster home for the duration, but Aubrey had been with Sandy and her foster siblings for four years now, and that was practically a record. After Sandy found out about Tyler and Latesha, the woman who'd taken Aubrey to McDonald's and brought her to Sandy's came for a visit. She counseled Aubrey, asked all sorts of questions with dolls and such-anatomically correct dolls-but Aubrey assured her nothing untoward had happened. Maybe Tyler had tried to feel her up once or twice, but that was normal, right?

The woman had pursed her lips and shook her head, then signed off on the house and went back to her own world. It was better that way. Things could have been so much worse. Sandy didn't abuse them, or yell and scream. She basically left them to their devices so long as they obeyed the rules. Sandy didn't necessarily love them, but she didn't hate them either.

But Tyler and Latesha had upset the gentle balance, and now they all had to pay the price. Scrutiny from the system messed with their freedom. Better to keep their mouths shut and let the heat die down.

Sandy seemed to like Roger, so they all tolerated him because a happy Sandy was better for all involved. Aubrey didn't care for Roger much-he had a lazy eye, and she never quite knew whether he was looking at her or not-so she avoided him whenever possible.

So when he came knocking, Aubrey followed the rules. She didn't open the door. She knew she wasn't supposed to. No one was allowed over when Sandy had to work at night.

She said through the crack, "Sorry, Roger, she's at work."

Roger gave her that lazy grin, the one Aubrey knew Sandy liked, a lot, and leaned against the door, pushing the wood against her.

"Come on, Aubrey. Lemme in. I'll just have a beer and wait. Sandy knows I'm here. I just talked to her. She's bringing home chicken after her shift. Someone covered for her, she's getting home early."

Aubrey cocked her head to the side and thought about that. Roger was Sandy's boyfriend. He was over here several nights a week anyway. The kids weren't allowed to have friends over, but no one said anything about Sandy's lovers.

She opened the door.

Roger came in and made a beeline for the fridge, where he helped himself to the beer Sandy had bought for him. "Make me some eggs, Aubrey," he commanded, and she did, knowing it was better to just acquiesce to Roger's demands. She'd watched Sandy and Roger together over the past few months, and he certainly got whatever he wanted.

She cleaned up after him and started to the living room to finish her homework. Roger followed, sat in the chair by the television. He put on a baseball game, drank a couple more beers. Aubrey had no problem working in the noise-she was accustomed to the cacophony that came about from having kids and people around at all hours.

At the seventh-inning stretch, Aubrey closed her notebook. "I'm going to bed. You should probably head out."

"I'm gonna wait for Sandy. Why don't you come here and give me a kiss good night?"

"Why don't you go jump, Roger?" She infused her voice with as much tone as she could, the sarcastic notes taken from Latesha and Sandy when they were annoyed. Roger just smiled at her. She started to walk by, but he put out his leg.

"Kiss me good night, Aubrey."

"No. Let me by."

He was fast. Before she could react, he'd leaped from the chair, grabbed her shoulders, and pinned her to the floor. He shoved his tongue in her mouth, and she nearly gagged on the taste of beer and eggs and man.

She pushed against him, but he was big, and heavy, and she couldn't get any purchase. She knew what was going to happen next. She tried to fight him. She tried to scream. But he just clamped one hand over her mouth and used the other to rip her shorts open. He put his hand between her legs, squeezing and kneading and pinching. That place was private, one she'd barely begun to acknowledge, and here he was, drunk and hot and moving on top of her like a wriggling bag of cement. She managed to get her mouth away and bit hard into his arm.

With a roar of pain, he smashed his forehead into her face. Her nose cracked; tears flooded her eyes. Blood began pouring down her face.

Roger slapped her, hard, then flipped her over, put an elbow into her back. "You little bitch. I'm bleeding. I'll make you pay for that."

He pulled her shorts down, knocked her legs apart with his knee, and she started to cry. Suddenly, his weight was gone. She got to her knees, then managed to get to her feet. The blood was everywhere.

Tyler was screaming at Roger. "I'll kill you, motherfucker! She's twelve. She's fucking twelve, and you come over here, try to use her like she's some party favor? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Fuck you, you little shit. She asked for it." Roger smacked Tyler, knocked his head sideways. Tyler exploded.

Roger was bigger, but Tyler was quick. He danced around Roger's body, fists flying. It didn't take long for Roger to go down. Tyler straddled his chest, pummeling his face. Over and over and over.

"Tyler!"

He glanced up at her, his face a mask of fury, tears streaming down his cheeks. The sight of her did something to him. He stopped hitting Roger. He stood, panting, covered in blood, his fists red and slick, and advanced on Aubrey. She cringed, but he pulled her into his arms and held her.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry." He said it over and over and over again, into her hair, and they cried together like that, sitting on the floor next to Roger's unconscious body, until Sandy came home, and screamed and screamed and screamed.

The police came. The detectives had them separated. Aubrey didn't want Tyler to get in trouble, so she told them she had hit Roger herself. Again and again and again. They stopped the bleeding and gave her ice for her nose and asked her why she hit him. She didn't want to tell them. What happened was private, for her and Tyler alone. She didn't want people to know and look at her with pity-she got enough of that already from her teachers, from Josh.

Josh.

Oh, God, Josh.

How would she ever be able to face him again? Josh was good. Josh was hope.

And now Aubrey was dirt, just a scraping off a shoe.

She didn't deserve him. She was spoiled, tainted, like an apple left in the refrigerator too long, soft and mushy and rotten inside. She didn't deserve him, the golden boy, the one who always believed in her. Going to jail would be easier than facing him.

So she lied to the police.

"He was . . . bothering me, so I hit him. Tyler came home and saw me and tried to stop me. That's what happened. Just send me away."

And with that, she shut her mouth firmly against the world and let them do with her what they would.

They didn't believe her, of course. How could a small girl, barely five feet tall, with long legs and skinny arms, a colt, knock a full-grown man twice her size unconscious?

On the other side of the police station, Tyler was telling a different story. The truth, for once in his life. How he came home to find his foster sister being attacked by his foster mother's boyfriend. How they had words, how Roger punched Tyler in the mouth and told him to fuck off. How Tyler was forced to hit him in self-defense.

"What would you do?" Tyler asked the detective. "What would you do if you walked in on a man trying to hurt your twelve-year-old sister?"

Roger spent a month in the hospital, healing. He was arrested for attacking Aubrey, but Aubrey refused to testify, so he got away with probation. Tyler, on the other hand, pled down to aggravated assault. He and Aubrey were taken from Sandy's home-that was inevitable, of course-and while Tyler went in for his first stint behind bars, Aubrey's fate was much worse.

She was sent to therapy at the rape and abuse crisis center, and became the newest resident of an independent group home on Division Street. One for troubled teens. She was the youngest girl there, the smallest, the quietest.

And Monday morning, she would have to face Josh and explain why she'd moved.

She decided to lie. He mustn't ever know.

No one could ever know.

CHAPTER 51.

Aubrey Today Aubrey went to her small office and looked up the number to the district attorney's office. Arlo had gone into criminal prosecution after Josh's disappearance, eschewing his previous path of contract law. She liked that about him, that he'd decided to try to make a difference.

And she really liked that he was always on her side. He never treated her like she was crazy, or breakable. Even when she was.

The secretary put her through, and she heard Arlo's deep voice answer, "Tonturian."

"Arlo? It's Aubrey."

"Aubs!" He sounded genuinely pleased to hear from her. "How are you? I was just thinking about you. Janie and Sulman were talking about a beach trip next month. You up for it?"

"Maybe. I need to talk to you, Arlo. It's important. Can you come to the house? Now?"

"Now? Can it wait until tonight? I've got a meeting in twenty minutes."

"Cancel it, Arlo. It's about Josh. And a man named Derek Allen."

She heard flipping papers, a muttered curse. "All right. Give me fifteen minutes. I'll be right there."

"Before you come, I need you to find out everything you can on Allen. He should be in the system."

He started typing; she heard a low whistle. "He is no good. Aubrey, what's this about?"

"Not on the phone, Arlo. Just pull everything and get here as soon as you can."

Arlo arrived twenty minutes later. His dark hair and beaked nose were so familiar, so comforting, Aubrey nearly threw herself in his arms.

"What the hell happened to the front of your house?"

"Daisy. She got hammered and drove into it. She's in bad shape at Midtown."

"I hadn't heard." The reproach was clear: Because you don't ever get in touch anymore.

"Listen, you better come in and sit down. I've made some lunch. You're going to want a full stomach. And Tyler's here."

Arlo tensed. "Is he straight?"

"Yeah. He's helping. So be cool, all right?"

Arlo followed her into the house. Tyler was sitting at the dining room table. They didn't shake hands, but Tyler nodded to Arlo.

She put a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches down, passed out glasses of tea.