THE BRIDGE by CAROL ERICSON

Author:CAROL ERICSON [ERICSON, CAROL]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ROMANCE - - SUSPENSE
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2014-03-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

The remote fell from Elise’s hands, and she flinched as it hit the table. “Sean?”

Without turning to face her, he leaned sideways and grabbed the remote control, the muscles in his forearm corded and tense.

The TV went silent although Ray Lopez was still moving his lips.

“I-is all that true, what he said about your father?” She licked her lips, and her gaze dropped to his tattoo. What else had he been keeping from her?

He placed the remote on the coffee table with a click, put his hands on his knees and pushed up from the couch. He took one turn around the room and then stopped in front of her.

“It’s not true.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “It is true.”

She searched his face, the muscle ticking in his jaw, the deep grooves on each side of his mouth. “Just tell me the truth, Sean. I want to know the truth.”

“My father was a homicide detective, and there was a string of murders—similar to Katie Duncan’s but not exactly.”

“Like Lopez said, the M.O. was the same? The killer used some fake infirmity to trick his victims?”

“Yes.” He ran the back of his hand across his mouth. “Faked an injury to catch the victims off guard.”

“The killer communicated with your father?”

“He did, but I told you before, that’s not so uncommon.”

She folded her hands in front of her, twisting her fingers. “What about the other part? Was your father really suspected of being the killer?”

Sean slammed his fist into his palm. “That’s a lie. My father never killed anyone.”

“Except himself.”

Sean’s face blanched, and his lips tightened. “At the height of the investigation, someone witnessed a man jumping from the bridge and items belonging to my father were found there. The Coast Guard never found his body.”

“I’m sorry.” The words bubbled to her lips. How could she be angry with him for withholding the truth from her when such pain filled his eyes?

Squeezing those eyes shut, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Because of his suicide and because the killing stopped afterward, the department suspected him, but nobody was ever able to prove anything—not even that he committed suicide.”

“You don’t believe he killed himself even though his stuff was left on the bridge?”

“I don’t think he would’ve done that to us. We got nothing. His life insurance wouldn’t pay out and neither would the department.”

“Sean.” She reached out and trailed her fingers down his arm. When they skimmed over his tattoo, she snatched her hand back.

“What about the rest of it? Was there any proof that he was the killer?”

Sean plowed a hand through his hair again. “There was plaster of Paris in his patrol car. But would he really be stupid enough to leave that in his patrol car? Someone planted it.”

“You think someone was setting him up for the murders?”

“Absolutely. There’s no way...my father could never be capable of anything like that.”

Of course he’d say that about his father. He’d been a boy. How could

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