Page 29 of Into the Veins
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
He’d sold her out.
She didn’t care about the details, didn’t want to know why or understand his motivations. Her entire career—the only thing that’d gotten her through the worst traumas of her life—was on the precipice of being ripped from her. Just as her parents had been. “My adoptive parents, my sister—they knew why I went into law enforcement. They supported me. Same as my commanding officer. He’d worked with my father for more than twenty years. He wanted my father’s killer brought to justice as much as I did.” Heat infused her neck and face. She was aware of the audience on the other side of the blinds, but Blair couldn’t control the pure rage curling her fingers into her palms. Worse, the betrayal lodged in her throat. It clawed through her, tearing her apart right in front of him. Blair took a single step toward him, pointing to the case file. “But within days of inviting you into this investigation, someone tipped the press about what I had to do to find the man who destroyed my life. Tell me it wasn’t you.”
Colson had the guts to shake his head. “Blair, you don’t understand—”
“Tell me it wasn’t you!” She slammed her hand against the conference room table. Tears burned in her eyes, and it took everything in her not to let them fall. Her jaw ached under the pressure of keeping herself from breaking in front of him. She’d trusted him. Despite her promise to herself, she’d let him into her home, into her life. She’d let him handle the sculptures she’d put blood, sweat, and tears into. She’d physically surrendered herself to him when she feared she might never recover from what’d happened in those woods, and this was how it was going to end?
“I wasn’t the anonymous tipster.” He lowered his gaze, his expression unreadable. The tension drained from him as he shifted his weight into his back foot. The tendons in his neck ticked in rhythm to her pulse, but even with the answer she’d wanted, she couldn’t kick the instinctual warning he’d had something to do with this. “But I’m not innocent either.”
Her gut revolted, and the edges of her vision wavered. Acidic toxicity burned through her veins. She cocked her head to one side with a minute shake. “What…what does that mean?”
“Rachel Faulkner’s father. I had a deal with him.” Colson slid his hands into his jacket pockets, and nausea contorted in a violent tornado of chaos. “When I didn’t live up to my end, he must’ve thought the best way to get to me was through you. I give you my word, I never meant for any of this to happen.”
“What kind of deal?” Her ears rang. She couldn’t process what he was saying fast enough, couldn’t breathe, and the clock at the head of the conference room ticked off seconds, each louder than the one before. He wasn’t answering, and the same kind of numbness she’d feared on that trail spread through her. “Tell me.”
“Initially, he hired me to find Rachel Faulkner for a fee, but when the sheriff’s department informed him about her death, he couldn’t leave it at that. He didn’t want the person who killed her to spend the rest of their life behind bars. He wanted them to suffer. I was supposed to deliver them to him before you could arrest them.” He’d said it so matter-of-factly, as though he hadn’t just admitted to obstruction of justice.
The blood drained from her face. The strength she’d relied on to carry her through this case vanished, and Blair leaned into the back of her chair to keep herself upright. How could she have been so stupid? Her instincts had warned her from the start of this case. The private text messages, the feeling he was hiding something from her—she’d ignored it all because…because she’d fallen in love with him. Gravity strengthened its grasp and cemented her in one place. Her mouth ticked up at one side, a simple outward reaction when everything inside of her was breaking all over again. Her voice wavered. “Is that all?”
“Blair, I made the deal because the payout would’ve funded the boat and the trip around the world, but after what we’ve gone through the past few days…with you…” he said. “I changed my mind. I told him the deal was off.”
She didn’t believe him.
“And as part of this deal you were asked to keep him apprised of the investigation, right?” How could Rachel Faulkner’s father known how far she’d gone to arrest the man who’d murdered her parents in cold blood unless Colson had told him? Tremors wracked through her, and she dug her fingernails into the leather upholstery of the conference room chair. “You were giving him updates on the case, on this office, on me? That’s what the text messages were about, the ones you didn’t want me to see.”
“I never told him about your parents. I swear to you,” he said.
“Am I supposed to believe that, Colson? Am I supposed to take you at your word when you’ve been lying to me this entire time?” The pressure in her chest built until she could barely take her next breath. The walls pulsed, closing in as the sense of detachment climbed up her arms. “You manipulated your way into my case under false pretenses, went out of your way to learn everything you could about me, and put this investigation at risk. All for profit. Do you even realize the extent of what you’ve done?” A humorless laugh escaped past her lips as she gathered her laptop and case file into her left arm. “You’re exactly like him, you know. The private investigator who sold our address to a killer for a couple hundred bucks. No matter how much you want to deny it, you’re all the same. Willing to screw over anyone to make a buck, even the people who would’ve taken a chance on you.”
Three raps on the door pierced through the ringing in her ears. Deputy Garcia pushed inside. Color infused his neck and face, and embarrassment spread through her. “Sheriff, a report of a missing person matching the Seattle social media influencer parameters you designed just came through.”
The third victim. Her ribcage threatened to squeeze her heart until there was nothing left, but it was too late. Colson had taken care of that.
“I’ll be right there. Thank you.” Blair ducked her chin to sever eye contact with the deputy and the rest of the station as he closed the door behind him. She maneuvered around the opposite end of the conference table. They were running out of time. Another victim had been abducted, and there was nothing more to say. The judge wouldn’t approve her request for a second search on Evyn Garder’s home and property. She had to brief Agent Mitchell and the Violent Crimes Unit to prepare for them to take over what might be the last case of her career. She had to keep her head on straight. Detach. As January had accused her, she’d always been good at emotional distance. This wouldn’t be any different. “I have to go. As of this moment, Mr. Rutherford, I’m revoking your access to this and any other King County Sheriff Department investigations. Your services are no longer wanted.”
Colson’s expression hardened, his lips forming a thin line. He stretched one hand out for her as she reached for the door. His fingers enclosed around her arm. “Blair, wait. Please—”
She wrenched out of his hold, and for a split second her free hand went to her service weapon. Air stalled in her lungs, her fight or flight instincts on high alert faced with the danger in front of her.
His gaze dipped to her right hand, and he disengaged both physically and emotionally. Straightening, Colson took a step back.
One second. Two. Blair forced herself to take a deep breath before she did something she’d regret and lowered her hand away from her sidearm. “You don’t get to touch me. You don’t get to apologize or explain yourself. You knew exactly what you were doing, Colson, and despite my better judgement, I trusted you. I thought you were different than the rest of them, but I was wrong. So whatever you have to say, whatever lie you want to tell me next, I don’t want to hear it. In fact, I don’t ever want to see you again, and if you come within one hundred yards of this station or any crime scene tied to this investigation, I will have you arrested. Do you understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.” His voice deadpanned, and the small knot of regret in her gut wound tighter. Colson pushed past her and strode toward the door. Ripping it open, he paused, barely turning to look back at her. “It was an honor to work beside you, Sheriff Sanders. I’ll never forget it.”
Blair held her tongue as he crossed the threshold into the main station and visually followed him across the bullpen and out the double glass doors on the south side of the station. As quickly as he’d inserted himself into her life, he was gone, and a hollowness she’d hadn’t expected stole her emotional control. A tear slipped down her face as she stared after him, but every cell in her body knew she’d been right to ban him from the building and this case. She strengthened her grip on the files and her laptop still clutched in her arm and swiped at her face with her free hand.
He’d brought this on himself. Any evidence he’d handled would be pulled into question by the defense if this case made it to court. The investigation that’d nearly killed her could crumble right in front of her. Forcing one foot in front of the other, Blair left the conference room. “Who filed the missing persons report for the social media influencer?”
“I did, Sheriff.” Deputy Thompson stepped forward, handing off a single sheet of paper detailing who’d filed the report for their potential victim. The deputy hiked his thumbs into his belt and lowered his voice as she read through his incident report. “Is it true? What they’re saying on the news?”
Her heart hiccupped in her chest, and the words on the paper melted together. This was the moment. The moment she could deny she’d used her power as a sheriff’s deputy of a county she’d vowed to protect to solve a personal case, possibly saving her career. Or admit to the allegations and lose everything she’d worked for these sixteen years as a law enforcement officer. Blair raised her gaze, studying the deputies under her command waiting for her to answer. A phone rang unanswered across the station, the weight of their attention heavy. She felt as though she were balancing on the edge of a blade. One tip in the wrong direction and she’d lose their respect, lose their loyalty, lose a command she’d built from the ground up. The deputies in this station had closed more cases and saved more lives than any other in the county. Would that still be the case if the people recalled her?
She maneuvered her laptop and the case file to her waist and faced them head on, more exposed than she’d ever allowed herself to be before. “This department is the finest group of deputies I’ve ever had the honor to serve with, and I’m not saying that because of the allegations against me or because I’m trying to gain your support. I’m telling you this because I unequivocally believe it.” She shifted her weight between both feet. “Without every man and woman in this room, we wouldn’t be able to protect the citizens of this county. Without you, we wouldn’t have the closure rate we do, and a lot of people wouldn’t believe in us.” Nervous energy skittered down her spine. “Twenty-four years ago, a man broke into my home and brutally murdered my parents. I’ve never told any of you about this because I don’t believe it makes me a better officer, and to be honest, I didn’t want the pity. As you can imagine, I became a police officer because of that incident. I knew I’d have the resources to find the suspect, I had the support from my commanding officer to do it, and I never wanted anyone to ever have to experience that kind of pain again. As you’ve undoubtedly learned, I found that man. So, yes, the accusations you’ve heard today are true.”
Murmurs and whispers wound through the station.