Bullseye Read Free

vicinity of Mason’s chest affirmed the truth. He was afraid of ghosts. Not his deceased wife’s. The ghosts that haunted him from Albuquerque were harsh, ugly and painful. The heartbreak of loss. The agony of loneliness. The guilt of the pain he’d caused Karina.
    And the ghost of a killer who still walked the streets.
    “Some ghosts need to be confronted.” Caleb leaned forward and rested his arms on his thighs. “Otherwise they never stop haunting.”
    Much as he hated to admit it, Mason knew his friend was right. It was time.

TWO
    K arina blotted tears from her eyes and tossed the damp tissue into the wastebasket with the others. It had taken every ounce of courage she could muster to make that phone call to Mason. Did he have any idea how hard it was for her to ask for help?
    Red numbers glowed from the face of the DVD player in her small entertainment center. Almost seven o’clock Monday morning. If she was going to work, she should be dressed and ready to go. She held out a hand and watched her fingers tremble. Nobody would trust her with a pair of sharp shears near their heads today. How could she cut hair when Alex had been in juvy—the nickname for the juvenile justice center—for over forty-eight hours, and she was no closer to getting him out?
    She snatched another tissue from the box when a fresh onslaught of tears threatened. Asking Mason for help had been a long shot anyway. Of course he wouldn’t help her, but she thought maybe he would consider helping Alex. They’d been buddies back before… Her mind skirted over the miserable weeks that had marked the end of her engagement.
    Maybe if Mason had stayed with her, Alex wouldn’t be in this mess now. He would have had a strong role model to look up to after their father had passed away. He wouldn’t have gotten involved with…
    With what? What had Alex gotten into? Was he involved in drugs and gangs, as the police said? And if so, how had she missed the signs?
    Karina paced into the kitchen and poured cold coffee into a mug. Day-old coffee didn’t sound appealing, but she had to do something with her hands or she might start pulling her hair out. She set the mug in the microwave, punched a button and watched as the mug revolved inside. A sob threatened, but she choked it back before it could escape.
    Okay. She had to get hold of herself, clear her mind. Sitting around the apartment crying wouldn’t help Alex. She had to do something. But what? Since Mason wouldn’t help her, who would?
    A lawyer? She’d told Mason the truth when she’d said she couldn’t afford to hire an attorney. A hair stylist with custody of a teenager didn’t have a lot of extra money for things like lawyers. Sometimes she barely had enough to keep the lights on. She would gladly take out a loan to pay for a top-notch attorney, but she had nothing to use as collateral. Her car was worth less than she owed and she rented her apartment. So that meant Alex would have a public defender assigned, and all she could do was pray that it would be a good one.
    But it might be several days before he got a lawyer. The officer at juvy had told her the court’s dockets were usually booked solid early in the week, so it could be Tuesday or even later before the judge reviewed Alex’s case.
    The microwave beeped and shut off. Well, that was one thing she could do. She could be waiting at the juvenile justice center when the offices opened, and demand that her brother’s case be reviewed today. It might not do any good, but it was something.
    With the decision came a sense of purpose. Anything was better than sitting around the apartment crying. She opened the microwave door and dumped the steaming stale coffee in the sink, then headed toward her bedroom. A dress would make her look more professional than slacks, and she’d tame her thick mass of hair back into something respectable looking. If she could make a good impression on the judge, maybe he would give Alex the best free