Breaking Steele (Sarah Steele Legal Thriller)

Chapter 15

THE DETECTIVES CAME AT the same time as the fire engines. There was no barn left for the firemen to save, so they sprayed down the yard and border of the fields to make sure the fire was contained.

We handed over the evidence to the detectives, with detailed descriptions of where we found it. They watched as Mandy loaded the pictures onto her phone, emailed each one to them, and then deleted them. We had to make sure no one could suspect us of tampering with the evidence, although I knew we wouldn’t be able to use it. They promised they’d write in their report that they’d collected the evidence at the scene of the crime so we’d have a stronger case.

We rode back to town in silence. Joshua had a soft Hawaiian song playing, almost like a lullaby. He loved Samoan music and had just about every CD ever recorded in Hawaii—it was one of the only parts of his heritage he clung to. The singer crooned us into a near-sleep state.

My body felt like a train had hit it at full speed and then backed up to finish the job. My lungs hurt, my eyes ached, and my head felt swollen.

“Want me to stay at your place tonight, Sarah?” Mandy asked. It was kind. I did want her to stay, but I knew she didn’t need me right now. She needed Rick. So I refused, saying I’d sleep like a log whether she was there or not. We dropped her off at her house and then Joshua and I went back to the office. We were covered in soot, sweat, and grime. I just needed to pick up my car.

“You’ve got that meeting with Hannah Williams in the morning,” Joshua reminded me.

I nodded. “We got a lot done today. Hopefully we’ll take a few more steps closer tomorrow.”

Joshua adjusted his glasses and turned to leave. For some reason I reached for him and gave him a big hug. I melted in his arms, and he felt good and safe.

Without another word, we went our separate ways.

I soaked in the bath until my fingers and toes looked like prunes. I went into the water smelling like a cloud of smoke and came out smelling like vanilla. A layer of grime lined my tub when I drained the water.

After drying off and brushing my hair, I just lay in my bed. The covers were soft and warm against my naked skin.

I felt restless. Although I was tired, I was nowhere near falling asleep. The adrenaline was still in my body, fueling my thoughts. The events of the day reeled through my head like a movie. There were several things I wished I had done, things I would change.

I wished I had run outside the barn as soon as I heard the car pull into the driveway.

I wished I’d been there when Williams had gotten out of his car with those Molotov cocktails.

I wished I’d kicked him back into the car and thrown the bombs in after him.

This evening I’d been reminded once again what he’d done to Tracy Mulligan—had seen where he raped and beaten and killed her. And then he’d tried to kill my friends and destroy the evidence. I had no proof, but I knew it was him.

One side of me wanted him to come to justice the slow, modern way—through the judiciary system.

The other side of me wanted him to see justice the ancient, blood-feud way—and watch him burn.