One Last Step by Sarah Sutton (free e books to read TXT) 📗

there was nothing definitive to prove that he was one hundred percent the killer.

“But we didn’t find any compasses or the bodies,” Tara replied.

It was one thing that stuck out to her. The killer had to have had more compasses and where else would he have hidden them if they weren’t in his home? And where were the bodies?

“We don’t necessarily need to,” Warren answered.

He admitted that having both would certainly help, but they did have enough evidence at this point.

“It would be quite a coincidence that he had all those objects and a potential murder weapon.” He turned to Tara fully. “Plus, he said it himself that he doesn’t even know if he killed them. No one in their right mind would say that if they were innocent.”

Warren was convinced. It was a certainty Tara hadn’t seen from him before. She wanted that same feeling to reflect onto her, but as much as she tried to see how Warren and Brady were so certain, her doubt wouldn’t subside. And, after Sheriff Brady and the psychiatrist said their goodbyes and departed, Tara couldn’t help but speak again.

“I’m just not so convinced,” she finally admitted to Warren.

But Warren was already reaching for his phone, and Tara knew he wanted to tell Reinhardt. She had almost forgotten the twenty-four hours he had given them.

“It’s him, Mills. Trust me on this one,” he insisted, as he allowed his finger to dial Reinhardt without hesitation.

At his words, Tara suddenly questioned herself. After all, Warren had been doing this a lot longer than she, and she wondered if maybe she should trust him—maybe he was right after all. Maybe she was getting too ahead of herself. She stifled her feelings.

Warren lifted his phone to his ear and walked down the hall into a private room as Tara followed. Moments later, Reinhardt was on speaker and Warren had already filled him in. Warren’s face was beaming.

“Excellent work, both of you,” Reinhardt finally replied.

It was clear that he too thought this case was over, and while it was evident that Reinhardt’s doubts in Tara were now far gone, Tara still felt an uneasiness in her gut. She wanted to relish this moment, but there was a part of her that wouldn’t allow her to. As much as she wanted to trust their judgment and reactions, each time she tried to stifle her own, it only seemed to churn in her belly with even more force. It was a fear that they were pinning something on an innocent man, just because it all seemed plausible.

“You two make an excellent team,” Reinhardt added, before mentioning that he would arrange a flight for their trip home tomorrow, and Tara’s stomach churned even harder.

The phone conversation ended and Tara and Warren stood alone. There was a silence between them before Warren patted her on the back.

“You did a great job, Mills,” he said to her.

The corners of Tara’s mouth rose slightly, but she couldn’t hold back her feelings any longer.

She hesitated, but then spoke. “I’m still not convinced it’s him,” she admitted.

Warren’s smile faded. “Don’t keep pushing this, Mills. You’re going to get yourself into trouble for no reason.”

A silence fell around them, before Warren continued to reassure her that they had found the right person, and then he reached for the door.

“Drop the evidence off at the station on your way back to the hotel, and then get some solid rest. We’ll fly home tomorrow.”

And at that, he left the room, leaving Tara alone with her thoughts.

She tried to push the feelings away, once again. But no matter how many times she told herself that, her gut feeling grew stronger and she knew it was not something she could ignore. But, even if she gave in to her doubts, she didn’t even know where to begin. She needed solid evidence to prove that James Hayden was innocent, and going off on her own would most likely cost her career.

But then she looked down at her hand, which held the evidence bag. She reached into it and pulled out the compasses. These mean something, she told herself. I could take them. She knew that taking evidence with her would get her in trouble, but she also knew it was safer than going off on her own. Instead of dropping off the evidence tonight, she could bring them back tomorrow morning—before anyone would know they were gone.

This was her last chance to study this evidence. The case was closed. She was going home. She needed more answers, and she couldn’t help but feel that the compasses held all that she needed. Her heart pounded as she tucked them back into the evidence bag. It was a rash move, she knew it, but the urge was too strong.

Just when she walked to the door, one last moment of doubt seeped into her mind and she paused briefly. I could get in a lot of trouble for this, she told herself. But, just as the doubt crept into her mind, so did her feelings of why she needed to take them. I just need to study them for a bit longer, she told herself. No one will even know they’re gone. She stepped through the doorframe and let the door close behind her.

Chapter Twenty Eight

Her head was pounding, thumping against her skull as if desperate to shake her—to awaken her—and it had finally been successful. She opened her eyes and all that surrounded her slowly came into focus.

She had seen bits and pieces of it all before, when he brought her here—when he dragged her through the barn doors, when he tied her hands and feet so tight with rope that she had lost feeling of her extremities. She was disoriented then, swaying between the here and the confines of her mind until her exhaustion beat her into unconsciousness. But now she had awoken and she could see so clearly—the bloodstained floor and the bodies piled on top of each other like