Cold Case in Cherokee Crossing Read online

“Oh, my God, that can’t be true,” Delia said.

  “I talked to him myself,” Jaxon said. “And I believe his story.” He planted his hands on top of her desk. “Which raises the question, who did kill Mulligan?”

  The social worker’s face turned ashen. “How should I know? I believed Hank.”

  “Think, Delia,” Avery said. “Do you know anyone else who would have wanted Wade Mulligan dead?”

  Chapter Nine

  Jaxon studied Delia’s shocked expression, searching her face for some clue that she knew more than she’d revealed. “Can you think of anyone else who would have wanted to hurt Mulligan?”

  She shook her head. “No. No one that I can think of.”

  “What about his wife? Do you think she was capable of murdering him?”

  Delia drummed her fingers on her arm. “They had their fights,” she admitted. “Of course, I didn’t know that when I placed Hank and Avery in the house.”

  “You had conducted follow-up visits to the home, didn’t you?”

  “A couple,” Delia said, although a frown darkened her expression. “I was swamped at the time and should have gone by more often.”

  “Couldn’t you tell that something was wrong?” He glanced at Avery and saw her bite down on her lip. “Couldn’t you see the children were unhappy?”

  She released a pained sigh. “None of the children I placed in foster care were happy, Sergeant Ward. Hank and Avery had already suffered the trauma and stigma of their father’s arrest and their mother’s abandonment. And they’d been shuffled through a half dozen other homes before I moved them to the Mulligans.”

  “Why were they moved from those homes?”

  “Various reasons. The first family said they couldn’t keep both of them. The next one, the mother had health issues. Another family claimed Hank was an angry kid and that he hit one of their own children.”

  “Were any other children in the Mulligan home when you placed Avery and Hank there?”

  “No.”

  “What about Lois?” Avery asked.

  Delia rubbed her forehead. “That’s right. I forgot. She was there, but only about a week at the same time you were.”

  “What happened to her?” Jaxon asked.

  Delia shrugged. “She was sent to a group home a few hours away.”

  “How about other children who lived with the Mulligans prior to Hank and Avery’s placement?”

  “I don’t know much about them. I inherited the file from the former social worker, Erma Brant.”

  “There were no notes about abuse by the Mulligans in that file?”

  Anxiety streaked Delia’s face. “No. I...wish there had been.”

  Irritation shot through Jaxon. If she had known and had put them there anyway, she was partly responsible for what happened to Avery. “This is important, Delia. A man’s life depends on it. What happened to the others?”

  Delia stared at her hands, picking at her cuticles. “A couple aged out of the system. One boy was moved to a juvenile facility because he was caught stealing from a convenience store.”

  “Did any of the children, male or female, complain that they were abused?”

  “No.” She bit her nail. “And like I said, I didn’t see any notes regarding abuse. I wouldn’t have left Avery and Hank there if I had.”

  “But he abused me and my brother,” Avery said. “I can’t help thinking that we weren’t the first.”

  The woman turned toward Avery, sorrow in her eyes. “I’m so sorry this happened to you, Avery. I should have seen it sooner, should have picked up on something.”

  “I should have told you what he was doing,” Avery said. “But I was too ashamed.”

  “You were just a child,” Delia said softly. “Mr. Mulligan was supposed to take care of you, but he took advantage of you instead.”

  “He said he loved me,” Avery said with a bitter laugh. “That if I told anyone, he’d kill me and Hank.” Her voice cracked. “It’s my fault Hank went to jail. If I hadn’t been so scared—”

  “You had reason to be frightened.” Delia walked around her desk, knelt in front of Avery and squeezed her hand. “So don’t blame yourself. You were an innocent little girl, and all the adults in your life let you down. Including me.” Self-recrimination underscored her voice. “If I’d known what Wade Mulligan was doing, I would have gotten you and Hank out of the house before Hank stabbed Mulligan.”

  Jaxon inhaled sharply. So she believed Hank was guilty. “You left your job shortly after Hank’s arrest. Why did you switch jobs?”

  Delia looked tormented. “Because I realized I’d made a mistake with Avery and Hank and decided I couldn’t be responsible for something like that happening again.”

  Jaxon studied her for another long moment, then handed her a business card. “Thank you for your time. Please call me if you think of anything else that might help Hank Tierney. Especially anyone who might have had a problem with Mulligan.”

  She agreed, and Avery gave the woman a hug. “Thank you, Delia. Things may not have gone well at the Mulligans, but I know you tried to help me and my brother. I owe you for that.”

  Guilt streaked Delia’s face as she hugged Avery in return. “I’m sorry about Hank. I really am.”

  Avery nodded, although tears filled her eyes as she pulled away.

  “One more thing,” Jaxon said. “Tell me the names of the other children who lived with the Mulligans.”

  Delia looked startled for a moment. “I’m not sure I could release that information even if I had it. But I left all those files in the social services office.”

  “Think about it and maybe you’ll remember a name,” Jaxon said. “One of them might be willing to come forward and testify about the abuse to help Hank.” He pinned her with a dark look. “After all, you owe Avery and Hank that much.”

  * * *

  AVERY STARED OUT the window at the passing scenery, Delia’s ashen face flashing in her mind. Jaxon’s last comment had upset the woman. But if she were upset, maybe she could help.

  The bare trees looked as desolate as she felt. Hank had been in jail over half of his life and had missed the changing of the seasons, missed birthdays and holidays and building a career for himself.

  She wanted him to breathe fresh air, to get a second chance at life and to spend his next birthday eating birthday cake and opening presents.

  A noise sounded, and children raced onto the playground, laughing and talking. They looked so happy and carefree, just innocent kids skipping rope and playing children’s games.

  She and Hank had never been innocent. And neither one of them had a family.

  Hank because he was incarcerated.

  Her because she’d locked herself in a mental prison of her own. Shut herself off from trusting or loving a man because Mulligan had robbed her of her innocence.

  She would show that bitter, mean old man that he wouldn’t take anything else from her. She would get Hank out.

  Then she would work on herself. Learn to trust again.

  “Are you okay?” Jaxon asked as they drove away from the school.

  Avery nodded. “Delia seemed sincere.”

  Jaxon clenched his jaw. “Maybe. But she should have pushed Hank’s attorney to explore the abuse angle in Hank’s defense.”

  Avery rubbed the scar around her wrist. “That’s my fault. I should have spoken up and confided in her.”

  “If she was good at her job, she would have picked up on it,” Jaxon said. “And she should have researched the family and made certain the home was safe and secure before leaving you there.”

  Avery couldn’t argue with that. But she sensed Delia carried guilt around with her already regarding that mistake.

  Jaxon maneuvered through traffic until he r
eached the body shop on the edge of town. Several rusted, broken-down cars sat on cinder blocks, a fenced-in area held a mountain of old tires and other car parts and pieces, ranging from new fenders to motors, were scattered across the junkyard.

  “What are we doing here?” Avery asked.

  “Casey, my contact at the social service office, sent me a list of children who lived with the Mulligans prior to you and your brother. One of the boys, Shane Fowler, runs this place.”

  Avery’s heart pounded. “You think if we get some of the others to speak up, it might help Hank.”

  Jaxon frowned and adjusted his hat as he reached for the door handle. “It might. It’ll certainly establish a pattern of abuse, which could be argued in a self-defense plea.”

  Hope fluttered in Avery’s chest. Mulligan had abused her and Hank.

  Which meant they most likely weren’t the first. And they probably wouldn’t have been the last if someone hadn’t stopped the old man by ending his life.

  * * *

  THE JUNKYARD LOOKED like a sad place where old cars had gone to die. Jaxon had worked at one when he was a teenager, though, and he understood the value of recycling, of reusing good parts in another vehicle to save the owner the cost of expensive repairs.

  He also couldn’t fault any guy from making an honest living, and being an auto mechanic or specializing in body repairs took skills.

  Ironically, though, Mulligan had worked at a garage years ago.

  Jaxon took Avery’s elbow as they walked across the yard to the office. Hubcaps, tires and an assortment of axels were scattered in organized piles near the trailer. He knocked but no one answered, so he opened the door and peeked inside.

  “No one is here.”

  Avery touched his arm. “I see someone over there.”

  She pointed to a row lined with hoods, and Jaxon headed that way. “Mr. Fowler?”

  A stocky man wearing a plaid shirt and overalls looked up, adjusted his hat to shade his eyes and frowned. His arms were tatted up, a jagged scar discolored his left cheek and his hands looked battered and bruised. “Yeah?”

  Jaxon flashed his badge, identified himself and introduced Avery.

  “Am I in some sort of trouble with the law?” Fowler coughed into his hand. “I mean, I pay my taxes and all. And I run a legitimate business.”

  The man’s paranoia made Jaxon question whether or not he might be doing something illegal. But Jaxon wasn’t interested in petty crimes.

  “No, sir,” Jaxon said. “We came to talk to you about Wade Mulligan. You lived with him when you were a kid, didn’t you?”

  Fowler’s eyes sharpened. “Yeah. But that was a lifetime ago.”

  Avery cleared her throat. “Shane, I’m Hank Tierney’s sister, Avery. We also lived with the Mulligans.”

  “Aw, hell,” the man muttered. “I shoulda recognized you from the news. They been talking about your brother’s execution all week. Showed a picture of you when you was little.”

  Avery’s mouth twitched. “That’s because the date is approaching. I’m trying to stop him from being put to death.”

  Fowler wiped his greasy hands on a rag he pulled from his back pocket. “What’s that got to do with me?”

  “Both Hank and Avery were abused by Mr. Mulligan.” Jaxon watched for a reaction, but Fowler didn’t seem surprised. “How was the family when you lived with the Mulligans?”

  The man backed up, his posture defensive. “Like I said, it was a long damn time ago.”

  “But you remember whether or not he hit you,” Jaxon said.

  Fowler ran a hand across the scar on his face. “So what if he did? I was a smart mouth back then.”

  “Were there any girls living in the home when you lived there?” Jaxon asked.

  Fear flickered in Fowler’s gray eyes. “Yeah, a couple.”

  “Did Wade Mulligan ever go in their room at night?”

  Fowler rubbed his hands on the grease rag again, looking into the black smears as if they might offer him a way out. “I was just a kid back then,” he said. “I didn’t know what he was doing was wrong.”

  Avery sucked in a sharp breath. “So he did molest the girls?”

  Fowler looked up at her, guilt registering a second before he jerked his head to stare across his junkyard. “I didn’t see nothing, but I heard ’em crying at night. I went to the door once, but he beat me and told me to stay out of grown-up business.”

  “So you stayed quiet?” Jaxon said, unable to hide the disgust in his tone.

  Fowler gestured toward his scarred cheek. “Monster sliced my face that night. Said the next time he’d put that knife in my gut. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

  “You could have told someone,” Avery said angrily. “You could have called 911 or let the social worker know. If you had, you might have saved those girls and me and my brother.”

  * * *

  AVERY WAS TREMBLING so badly she thought she was going to have to sit down. Anger at this man ballooned inside her. If he’d turned in Mulligan, she and Hank would have been spared.

  Their entire life had been destroyed by the events that had happened in that house. Events that could have been prevented.

  “I’m sorry,” Fowler said, his voice almost childlike now. “I was scared. I...know I shoulda said something.”

  “Classic abuse,” Jaxon said. “Who were the girls who were there when you were?”

  Fowler leaned against the fence, wiping sweat from his neck with his hand. “Priscilla Janice and Renee Feldon.”

  “Do you know where either of them are now?”

  “Priscilla OD’d on heroin a few years back. Don’t know where Renee is. Last I heard she was turning tricks on the streets.”

  “When was that?” Jaxon asked.

  “About ten years ago.”

  Avery clenched her hands together. One girl had overdosed while another resorted to hooking. No doubt both their problems had been caused by Wade Mulligan’s abuse.

  “If we get a stay for Hank Tierney, would you be willing to testify to the abuse?” Jaxon asked.

  Fowler looked down at his shoes. “I don’t know. I’m not sorry the bastard’s dead, but I ain’t proud that he used me for a punching bag.”

  “Please,” Avery said. “Wade Mulligan deserved to die, but my brother didn’t kill him.”

  Jaxon cleared his throat. “You want your self-respect back? Then stand up to him.”

  “But he’s dead,” Fowler said.

  “My brother isn’t,” Avery said quietly.

  The man looked up at her, his scar reddening in the sunlight. “All right, I’ll do it.”

  They thanked him, then walked back to the car in silence. Avery flipped on the radio to distract herself from the bitterness eating at her as Jaxon drove from the parking lot.

  But a special newscast was airing. “This late-breaking story in. Hank Tierney, whose execution is scheduled just a few days away, was stabbed today in a prison fight. Guards were moving him from his cell block when a fire erupted in a neighboring cell. Before they realized what was happening, two inmates attacked Tierney.”

  Avery choked on a sob while she waited to hear if her brother was still alive.

  Chapter Ten

  “Tierney was taken to the infirmary, where he was treated and received thirteen stitches in his abdomen,” the reporter continued. “Investigators are looking into the attack, and Tierney has been moved to isolation for his protection.”

  Avery clutched her middle, pain knifing through her. “I have to go see him.”

  “I doubt they’ll allow that,” Jaxon said. “But I can call and make sure he’s all right.”

  “Will you?”

  “Of course.” He was beginning to think he’d do anything s
he asked. He retrieved his cell phone and punched the number for the prison. “Yes, this is Sergeant Jaxon Ward. I need to speak to the warden.”

  A pause, and then Jaxon spoke again.

  “I’m calling to check on Hank Tierney.”

  Silence from Jaxon while he listened to the warden, then a heavy sigh. “All right, alert me if there are any more problems.”

  Avery tugged at his arm as he hung up. “Well, how is he?”

  “No major organs were damaged. He’s going to be all right.”

  His comment didn’t soothe her worries. “Why would someone attack Hank?”

  Jaxon squared his shoulders. “Prison fights are almost a daily occurrence, Avery. You can’t read too much into this.”

  Avery’s anger rose. “The timing has to mean something. Somebody wants Hank dead.” She clutched Jaxon’s arm, the wheels turning in her head. “Do you think it’s because we’re asking questions?”

  Jaxon’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. “That’s possible, but it might not be related to us. Hank probably made enemies on the inside.”

  “But why try to kill him when he’s scheduled to die?” Emotions clogged Avery’s throat. “The only answer that makes sense is that someone doesn’t want him to be cleared.”

  Jaxon cut his eyes toward her, his expression dark. “Try not to jump to conclusions, Avery.”

  “How can I not?” Hysteria clawed at her. “First I receive a threatening call and now Hank is attacked.”

  Jaxon cupped her face between his hands. “Look at me, Avery. Hank is going to be all right. And I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

  She blinked to stem the tears, but she was terrified for Hank and for herself.

  Maybe Hank had survived this time, but what if someone came after him again?

  * * *

  UNABLE TO STAND to see Avery suffering, Jaxon pulled her into his arms and rubbed her back. “I’m sorry, Avery. You don’t deserve this.”

  “Maybe I do,” she said in a low voice. “If I hadn’t told the police I saw Hank stabbing Wade, maybe the lawyers would have gotten him off.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Jaxon said. “There was too much evidence against Hank anyway. Even without his confession, his prints on the knife and the number of stab wounds would have earned him a conviction.” She relaxed against him for a moment, and he stroked her hair. The sweet scent of her fruity shampoo suffused him, stirring emotions and desires he didn’t want to feel.