Page 52 of Tangled Past
Maya felt Asa’s hand press between her shoulders, steadying her. “Do you believe him?” Maya whispered.
Asa’s answer came low and certain. “I believe he’s too reactive to have pulled off what the unsub did. Whoever killed your mother and Raymond was patient. Precise. This man can barely finish a sentence without exploding.”
Will pressed on. “Did you ever see a woman or a child around the property?”
Troy blinked as if he was confused. “A woman and a kid? No. Why?”
“He just admitted he was near the property back then,” Asa said.
Will watched him for a silent moment. “All right. That’s enough.” He stood.
“Wait,” Troy barked. “Was that it? You drag me in here for twenty minutes and then just—what—walk out?”
“Thank you for your cooperation,” Will said, his voice calm.
“I didn’t cooperate,” Troy growled. “I just talked!”
“Exactly,” Will said. “Have a good day, Troy.”
Will left the room, and Troy exploded into a storm of muttered curses.
JT exhaled. “What a peach.”
The tension drained from Maya’s shoulders for the first time that day. Not because they were closer to answers, but because she had Asa on her side. “He wasn’t the man in the barn; that’s not his voice. Which means the real killer is still out there. Still watching.”
“Yes.” The look in Asa’s eyes made her breath hitch. Her emotions felt too close to the surface. Too raw and tangled. Her throat tightened. “I don’t want to fall apart.”
“Maybe you’re not falling apart,” he said softly. “Maybe you’re remembering who you were supposed to be.”
That hit deeper than anything else had. She blinked fast. “Asa.”
He shook his head. “You don’t have to say anything.”
Before she could speak, the door opened, and Will stepped inside, his gaze going to Maya.
She shook her head. “It’s not him.”
Will didn’t appear surprised.
JT folded his arms. “So, we’re back to square one.”
“No,” Will said, looking straight at Maya. “We’re not. We know more today than we did yesterday. We know Raymond hid you and your mother on purpose. We know someone was watching that farmhouse—someone who wasn’t Troy Malbern.”
Maya’s breath caught. “The only question is who.”
Will’s expression darkened. “That’s the part the shadows still aren’t giving up.”
Asa spoke, his voice with steel behind it. “Then we pry harder.”
Will nodded once. “Everyone, take an hour. Food, water, whatever you need. Then we regroup in the conference room.”
After the room cleared, it was just her and Asa.
“Come on. Walk with me,” he said gently as if sensing that she needed to stretch her legs. He led her into the hallway, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead.
They walked in silence until they reached the far end of the corridor, away from the briefing rooms and the chatter of officers. There, beside a narrow window overlooking the darkening street, he turned fully toward her. “What’s coming up for you right now?” he asked.
The question broke something open inside. Not a memory but a kind of release she hadn’t expected. “I don’t know how to live in two timelines,” she whispered. “The past is waking up, and the present is . . . shifting under my feet.”
