Cover Your Eyes by Mary Burton Read Free Book Online Page B

his parents talking in the kitchen in hushed whispers and of his father’s conviction that Jeb was the killer.
    When Rachel’s request for DNA testing had first crossed Deke’s desk, he’d laughed. He’d heard Jeb had recanted but then Jeb wouldn’t be the first killer who’d cried innocent when facing the rest of his life in prison.
    Deke had wanted to dismiss Rachel’s request, but he didn’t. He’d trusted Buddy’s work enough to believe it would stand up to science, so he’d sent the DNA to the state lab, knowing the backlog ran months and sometimes years.
    Rachel wasn’t so green an attorney that she didn’t realize this. Every first-year law student understood the system could be slow—that current murder cases, rapes, and robberies took precedence.
    The harder she pushed for an answer, the stronger his resolve not to rush the results. Let her prod all she wanted. She’d get her answers when he was damn good and ready.
     
     
    “Yes, I do believe the killer remains free.”
    In the darkness, the small television framed Rachel Wainwright’s face. Pretty expressive eyes announced worry and doubt as her unwavering tone added punch to her words. Whether she believed the statement or not didn’t really matter. She’d spoken them out loud and into the lens of a camera that broadcast her face all over the Nashville metro area. Her words had planted seeds of doubt, not many, but one or two placed in the right place was all it took.
    Rachel Wainwright was a do-gooder who didn’t know how to keep her mouth shut. She stuck her nose where it didn’t belong and stirred up trouble for trouble’s sake.
    Sitting back, Baby conceded taking care of Rachel would be easy. Ideas of hitting her with a car or striking her with a hammer elbowed their way to the front of Baby’s mind. If Rachel died, Jeb’s case died. No more problems. No more worries.
    The ceiling above Baby’s head creaked with the footsteps of another. The hum of the television had reached upstairs and aroused trouble. Baby took one last look at Rachel’s face then clicked off the set.
    The door at the top of the basement stairs creaked open. “Baby?”
    “Down here.”
    “What are you doing? It’s late.”
    “Watching television.”
    “It’s late.”
    “I know.” Baby rubbed tired eyes. “I’ll be right up.”
    “Are you okay?”
    “Yeah. Couldn’t sleep. Go to bed. I’ll be right there.”
    Rachel Wainwright was trouble but she could be an asset if pointed in the right direction. Killing would solve a lot, but sometimes the easy way wasn’t the smart way. Smart people killed two birds with one stone.
    And Baby was smarter than most gave credit.

October 24
     
    Sugar,
    I’ve decided that diamonds suit me. When I hit it big, I’m gonna be dripping in diamonds. My roommates are jealous of the necklace and the dumb-luck grin always slathered on my face when I admire the way it catches the sunlight. They want to know who gave me such an expensive gift. Again and again they ask as if I will somehow slip. But I won’t slip. Mum’s the word. And yes, I will have dinner with you on Thursday.
     
    Xoxo,
    A.
     

    Chapter Three
     
    Friday, October 14, 6 AM
     
    The alarm clock shrilled, jarring Rachel awake. She sat up and instantly her head throbbed and her neck cramped. When she breathed, her ribs flinched. She’d never been cold-cocked before and now realized the initial blow didn’t hurt near as bad as the aftermath.
    She swung her legs over the side of her bed to the chilled, roughly hewed wooden floor. Her toes curled. A draft wafted through large insulated windows that had appealed so much when she’d first looked at the former restaurant space on a warm spring morning.
    Her bed butted against a tall brick wall. A salvaged wrought-iron door served as a headboard and pallets functioned as box springs. She’d covered the bed with a heavy indigo comforter and lots of pillows. A long dresser and a silver-streaked mirror, both