GRIMACED. DISCUSSING the case would definitely reopen old wounds for Avery, but questions had to be asked and answered. “Do you know if Mrs. Mulligan continued to take in foster children after her husband was murdered?”
“I have no idea what happened to her,” Avery said.
“What about the social worker who placed you with the Mulligans? What was her name?”
Avery rubbed her forehead as if thinking back. “I...think it was Donna. No, Delia. I don’t know her last name.”
“There should be records,” Jaxon said. “What do remember about her?”
Avery shrugged. “Not much. She gave me candy on the ride to the Mulligans’ the day she dropped us off.” Her voice cracked. “But I don’t remember her coming back to visit.”
Jaxon bit back a response. “Did she testify at your brother’s trial?”
Avery rubbed the scar around her wrist. “I don’t think so. But I was so young that they didn’t let me inside for some of the trial.”
That made sense.
“I’ll pull the transcripts from the trial and review them, then question her.”
Avery squared her shoulders. “I’d like to go with you to see her.”
He hesitated. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
Avery folded her arms, a stubborn tilt to her chin. “I may have been a child then, Sergeant, but I’m not anymore. My testimony put my brother in prison, and got him the death penalty. Now that I know he’s innocent, I have to make things right.”
Jaxon lowered his voice. “Avery, do you think it’s possible that Hank twisted the truth because he’s afraid to die?”
She shook her head. “No. Hank’s not like that. He always owned up to things he did wrong. Even if it meant he’d be punished for it. Besides, he just said that he confessed because he thought I killed Wade.”
Oddly it sounded as though Hank Tierney had character, that he wasn’t the bad seed the prosecutor had painted him to be.
And if a jury heard his testimony now and heard Avery’s story, they might let Hank Tierney go.
So why hadn’t the D.A. and Tierney’s defense attorney pleaded not guilty and put the kid on the stand?
Dammit, he needed to see the autopsy report for Wade Mulligan. If someone else had delivered the fatal stab wound before Hank Tierney had unleashed his rage, it might show up in the autopsy report.
* * *
AVERY’S PALMS BEGAN to sweat at the idea of dredging up the details of the past. Already she felt drained from the day’s visit with Hank and now this Texas Ranger.
And if she helped Hank—and she had to help him—this was only the beginning. Everyone in the town—hell, everyone in the state—would know her sordid story.
Taking a deep breath to fortify her resolve, she lifted her chin. “Please. It’s time for me to face the past. Maybe seeing Joleen Mulligan and the social worker will jog my memory of that night.”
“That’s possible.” Sergeant Ward’s dark eyes met hers. “But are you ready for that?”
No. She wanted to run as fast as she could and as far away as possible. But Hank’s troubled voice claiming he was innocent, that he’d taken the rap to save her from arrest, echoed in her ears. There was no way she could allow him to be put to death when he’d confessed to protect her.
“Yes. I have to do this, Sergeant.”
“All right. Give me your number, and I’ll call you when I locate them.”
Avery recited her cell number, and he entered it into his phone.
The dark, handsome Ranger tilted his head to the side. “One thing, Avery—I will look into Hank’s story, but I can’t promise anything. It’s almost impossible to get a murder conviction overturned this late in the game.”
“It’s not a game,” Avery said, her senses prickling. “This is my brother’s life.”
A heartbeat of silence stretched between them. “I know that. But I don’t want you to get your hopes up.” He pierced her with a dark look. “And if I find out either of you is lying and using me, I won’t hesitate to tell the judge that, either.”
Her heart hammered against her breastbone. “Hank and I aren’t lying,” she said. “Hank didn’t kill Wade Mulligan. That means that the real killer has been walking around free for twenty years thinking he got away with it. And I can’t live with that.”
A muscle twitched in his strong jaw. “You may have to. Sometimes the justice system fails.”
Yes, it had done so twenty years ago.
But she’d do everything within her power to change that now.
* * *
JAXON’S PHONE BUZZED as soon as he left the prison. His director.
Still contemplating what to tell him, Jaxon let the phone roll to voice mail.
Wind whistled across his skin as he climbed into his SUV and pulled from the parking spot. He’d worked in law enforcement for ten years, yet the razor wire and armed guards made sweat bead on his skin. He liked the law, thought the system worked for the most part.
But occasionally a case went wrong. An innocent victim fell through the cracks.
Hank Tierney had been locked up since he was a teenager. Should he have been free all this time?
Had his life been stolen from him by someone who’d murdered his foster father, then walked around free for twenty years while he lived in hell?
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