Where the Blame Lies

Josie bobbed her head. “Usually after my father left. She’d drink, blame me for him not coming back . . . burn me.” Her voice faded away and heat rose in her face. It wasn’t her fault, she knew that, and yet it still shamed her to her core. “Usually, she didn’t even remember the next day.”

He regarded her for several heartbeats. She detected anger in his expression but no pity, and she was grateful for that. “Do you think there’s a connection between what your mother did to you and what was done to her by whoever murdered her?”

“There has to be. I just don’t understand how.” She paused. “I showed these scars to Marshall Landish in an attempt to . . . I don’t know, humanize myself in his eyes maybe, show him that I’d suffered too. It was . . . complicated.” She frowned. “Or maybe it wasn’t. I was grasping at anything I could.” Josie took a breath. Zach had to have read her case file. He must have gone over the questions the detectives had asked her about her time spent in captivity, the things Marshall had said to her. Most of it if not all. “I got the idea that Marshall had suffered abuse of some kind at one point or another. I hoped that showing him my scars would help him see me as an ally instead of an enemy.” She looked off to the side, staring into space, his words coming back to her.

I s-see why all those men wanted you, Josie. You think I d-don’t? You think I don’t know that you’ve gotten to me too? There’s something about y-you. Something that makes men weak, even m-me.

A chill went down Josie’s spine. She met Zach’s eyes. “Other than you, he’s the only one who’s ever seen my scars.”

Confusion transformed his expression. “And yet the same thing was done to your mother.” He paused. “It could be a coincidence. That the killer simply used what was available to him to inflict pain.”

“It could, but I don’t know. It . . . it doesn’t feel like a coincidence. Not when this guy is using Marshall Landish as a model for his crimes. Not when he cut the same words into her thigh.”

Zach sat back on the couch, running a hand over his hair. “No, it doesn’t feel like a coincidence to me either,” he murmured. “But why kill your mother in a different manner than the other two victims? Why kill your mother at all?”

Why kill your mother? The words repeated in her head. Her mother was dead. God, Josie still couldn’t believe it. It didn’t feel real. “Is it possible there’s a second copycat?”

“Unlikely. We’ve kept the fact that the copycat is carving the words casus belli into the thighs of his victims under wraps. Even if a

second copycat guessed that, he’d seek to mimic the other details as well. There’s something different about your mother’s manner of death because your mother is different than the other victims somehow. It’s almost like . . .”

“What?”

He met her gaze. “It’s almost like the copycat is seeking your favor. He did this in retaliation for what your mother did to you.”

She’d had the same thought skating at the edges of her mind, but hadn’t voiced it because it was what didn’t make sense. “But how could he know that? Did Marshall tell someone? Is this guy someone who knew him?”

“Possibly, though it seemed Landish was something of a loner.” His eyes moved to her. “I’m sure you know that.” Yes, of course she knew that. She’d followed every lead she could in looking for her son. “The only person he spoke to regularly was his sister, and the police interrogated her thoroughly.”

They were both quiet for a moment. Zach looked as though he was struggling with whether to voice whatever was on his mind at that moment. Josie waited him out. “Are you sure no one else ever saw your scars in an . . . intimate situation?”

Intimate situation. That’s how he’d chosen to broach the topic of sex. It almost elicited a smile. He looked so uncomfortable, and something else too, but she wasn’t willing to try to put an emotion to it. She was already shaken up enough about Detective Zach Copeland.

“That is . . . if . . . I don’t want to assume anything.” He rubbed at his lip again.

She tilted her head as a small smile crept over her face. “Do you mean was I a virgin when Marshall abducted me? The answer is no.” Her smile vanished and she looked down, focusing on her hands. “The truth is, I’d made a lot of mistakes.” She shook her head. “And did things that could have hurt people. I made stupid choices that hurt myself. I . . . I wasn’t a great person. I was messed up . . . from my childhood. It isn’t an excuse, but . . . there you have it.”

She braved a glance up and Zach was regarding her intently, a small wrinkle between his eyes. “I think you’ve probably always been a great person, Josie. Making mistakes doesn’t negate that. Unless you don’t learn from them.”

He was so kind, he really was. And again, the sense that this strong, beautiful man was rooting for her filled her heart. Her soul. It made her feel like she had always been a good person, despite her vast regrets. It made her feel like she could be a great person now.

Zach sat up. He looked as though something might have just dawned on him. “A man’s name came up in relation to the two other victims. I was actually on my way to his home when I got the call about your mother. Jimmy’s going to talk to him tonight. It might turn out to be nothing, and I know it’s been a long time since you attended UC, but did you ever know a professor of English literature named Vaughn Merrick?”

Josie felt the blood drain from her face. “Vaughn? What do you mean his name came up in relation to the other two victims?”

“You know him?”

“Knew him.” She felt slightly lightheaded as blood returned to her face in a rush. “I . . . we had an affair.”

Zach drew his head back and stared at her for a moment. “Shit.”

“Zach, tell me what’s happening.”

His brow furrowed as he paused, obviously thinking, trying to connect some puzzle pieces. He stood suddenly, causing Josie to startle. “I’ll be right back,” he said, heading toward the kitchen.

She heard him on the phone a second later talking to Jimmy. He disconnected and a moment after that, reappeared in the living room. “Jimmy’s almost to his house. I told him about your connection to him.” He sat back down. “It’s possible he was having an affair with the other two women as well.”

A rock dropped from Josie’s stomach to her feet.