Carson’s heart bumped erratically against his sternum. The truth was all he’d ever wanted. Now he knew. Agony swelled inside him.
... it was all about Elizabeth and you.
“Tanner,” Schaffer said via the communication link.
Carson jerked at the sound of the agent’s voice. “Yeah.”
“We have to get you to Eighth Avenue. Your uncle is there.”
Carson blinked. Had to pull himself together. Wait. Annette had gone to help Max. “Where’s Annette?” The irregular thudding in Carson’s chest slowed to a near stop as he waited for a response.
“She’s there. Elizabeth Drake, too. Lieutenant Lynch is singing like the proverbial canary. Looks like we’ve got a wrap, Tanner.”
As painful as it was, as ugly as it was, Carson could finally put the past to rest.
45
Wednesday, September 29, 8:30 p.m.
3rd Avenue, Birmingham
Tanner Law Firm
Carson closed the case file and leaned back in his chair.
Man, he was tired.
His first week in his new law office and he’d put in more than eighty hours.
He surveyed the small office with its view of the alley. There was an even smaller lobby fronting his office with scarcely enough space for a receptionist’s desk. It wasn’t like his former home in the Criminal Justice Center, but it was where he wanted to be.
The offer to take over as acting district attorney had been on the table after Wainwright’s arrest, but Carson hadn’t been interested. He’d decided he didn’t care for the political side of that position.
This was what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. Work for the people. Champion the little guy. Already he had a sizable client list. There would be no lack of cases.
He doubted he’d be making the papers or the news again anytime soon—but that was okay, too. He’d had enough of the spotlight to last him a lifetime. The first week after the story broke on Wainwright andhis cronies, Carson had been inundated with interview requests and even a small cluster of paparazzi.
Justice had been served. He was finally at peace with the past. Stokes was still serving a life sentence. Wainwright had been arraigned and was awaiting trial. Lynch had turned state’s evidence, narrowly dodging first-degree murder charges for his part in this nightmare. Lynch had come up with the idea of making the Tanner murders resemble those of a then-active serial killer—who turned out to be Stokes. Wainwright, Drake, and Holderfield had all cooperated. There was still some discrepancy as to whether Lynch had killed Dwight Holderfield, or Wainwright had. Each insisted the other had done it. According to Wainwright, Fleming had given Daniel Ledger, Annette’s assistant, the order to terminate both Annette and Carson. Ledger hadn’t worked up the wherewithal to do anything more than utilize scare tactics, though he had murdered Jazel Ramirez. Seemed he’d harbored some loyalty to Annette after all.
Carson still found it incredible that the people he had known and trusted could commit such horrific crimes against his family and him—people who they supposedly cared about.
Holderfield, Patricia, and the senator were dead already, so they had gotten theirs. As had Dane, though his had been undeserving to a large extent. Carson had concluded that his uncle had witnessed some part of the horror and that the people who had used his property to access the Tanner home the night of the murders were likely the “they” he so often spoke of during his episodes.
Carson would never in a million years have believed Patricia Drake capable of that kind of violence. All to ensure that her beloved daughter wasn’t treated for her own mental illness and that she got what she wanted—Carson. Patricia had been one sick bitch who hadn’t received the appropriate treatment for her multifaceted disorder. According to the experts she had likely suffered from borderline personality disorder with a hefty dose of narcissism and paranoia thrown in.
Carson couldn’t help feeling some amount of guilt. If he hadn’t foolishly fallen in love with Elizabeth, maybe his family would still be alive.
He couldn’t change that now. He’d had no idea there were issues back then. In his mother’s attempt to help Elizabeth while protecting Carson, she had sentenced herself and those she loved to death. But she hadn’t known the full extent of what she was up against: a twisted daughter with a psychopath for a mother. Elizabeth was undergoing psychiatric evaluation to determine her fitness for trial.
And all that time Carson had worried abouthisgenes.
Annette was cooperating with the FBI, and Otis Fleming was going down. The old bastard had been denied bail since he was considered a flight risk. The whole city was enthralled with the evolving events around the case.
Agent Schaffer had been offered a position at Quantico, a promotion. She hadn’t decided yet if she would accept the offer.
Carson stood and stretched. He was exhausted, but it felt good. For the first time in his adult life he didn’t have a cloud hanging over his head.
He had found the truth. Strangely enough, he owed that accomplishment to a woman who had operated outside the law for most of her life. A smile slid across his face. Her past had been put to rest as well.
