“How are you liking Tall Pines?” he asked. “You moved back about a month ago, right?”
“I’ve found it peaceful,” she said, lying. “Big difference from Amherst.”
The town had always seemed idyllic to her since childhood, but the mature trees, beautiful coast, and smaller population had yet to bring her their promising sense of calm.
Banning released a hearty chuckle and nodded. “If that’s a nice way of saying you’re in the boonies, you don’t have to be polite here. You’ll find all the surrounding towns in Deerhorn just the same if you haven’t already. It’s a slower pace out here, but that can be a good thing.”
For someone like me, right?
“I look forward to learning the ropes.”
“You’ll catch on quickly, I have no doubt. Now I don’t want to pretend there isn’t an elephant in the room, because there is, but once we address it, I’m happy to move on.”
Here we go.
She clenched her jaw and nodded, giving him the permission he didn’t need to air her shame.
“I’ve been filled in on the details of your last case,” Banning said, clearing his throat. “I’ve been told the whole take down wouldn’t have been possible without you, but I understand there was an issue with procedure at the end of your time undercover. I need to know you’ll follow procedure here working with the Tall Pines department in co-ordination with the others in the county.”
“Of course,” Grace nodded.
I’ll never make the same mistake.
“I have a good feeling about you, but I run a tight ship here. It’s nothing fancy like what you’re used to, but we do things by the book, and we don’t have any issues. Can I count on you to follow my orders, Sheppard?”
“Yes, sir.”
Maybe he’s willing to give me a clean slate.
“Good,” he said. “Well, you’ve been cleared for duty, and I’d like you to start right away by meeting my right-hand man, Officer Adam MacIntyre. He’ll let you know about the current ongoing investigation he’s working on and fill you in on anything else you’ll need to know about the Tall Pines PD. He must be running late. Traffic.”
In Tall Pines? Doubt it.
Grace nodded and folded her hands in her lap, keeping perfect posture, as Banning leaned back in his chair.
“So,” Banning started, and Grace tried not to wince.
Not small talk…
“You live up on Rosebank Drive. Right by the ocean there?”
“Yes, sir,” she smiled, lifting her chin. “My property backs onto the coast.”
That particular spot had held special meaning since she was a child living in Amherst and dreaming with her sister of living across the bay in the quiet town of Tall Pines.
“And you live alone, then?”
“Yes, sir.”
Why was he asking when he already knew?
“Well, it’s a great spot.” Banning nodded and shifted in his seat as an uncomfortable silence grew between them. “You should help yourself to a cup of coffee.”
A knock on the door gave them reprieve, and without waiting for a reply, it wooshed open. A man with warm brown hair and a wrinkled uniform stopped just inside the doorway.
“Ah, shit. Right,” he muttered, his gruff voice filling the room as he glanced from Grace to Banning.
“This is Officer Adam MacIntyre.” Banning stood and Grace followed. “This is DI Grace Sheppard.”
“Right.” He nodded, switching his Styrofoam coffee cup to his left hand and extending his right. “Just call me Mac.”
His warm hand barely held hers. She went in with a firm grip and shook his once before he let go.
Not a good sign.
“I heard from Brooks,” Banning said. “That’s the Chief up in Torrance. He says we’ve got her ‘til they need her. I’ve told Sheppard you’ll fill her in on your current investigation and answer any questions she has.”
“Sure thing, Chief.” He smiled and took a sip of his coffee. “Hey, are you up for a round this Sunday?”
“You know it,” Banning said, before returning to his seat. “Seven good for you, Mac?”
“See you there.” He pointed to him and strutted out of the office without giving Grace a second look.
She followed Mac out into the hallway.
“Rhonda,” he called to the officer at the front desk, “I’ll be back for lunch. Could you get a fresh pot on before then?”
“Put your own on, Mac,” Rhonda called to him as he passed her on his way to the door. “Get me a cup while you’re at it.”
As Grace caught up, she nodded to Rhonda, who smiled watching Mac leave.
“He’s a handful,” Rhonda laughed. “Good luck.”
I should introduce myself, but I don’t have time. I have to keep up.
Grace jogged to the front door before it swung shut, and took long strides to catch up to him.
“So you have an investigation in the works?” Grace asked, as he unlocked his patrol car.
“Two low-lifes going door to door posing as firemen,” he said before getting in.
She strode to the passenger side and joined him.
“They’re casing homes, using the guise of inspecting folks’ fire detectors.” He started the car. “Two white males, aged twenty-five to thirty-five.”
“So we’re tracking possible routes they may be taking? I assume you’ve spoken to the people who called in the suspicious behavior?”
He pulled out of his spot and waved to an officer walking toward the station. Grace waited for an answer as he turned left and drove out of the parking lot.
“Where are we headed?” she asked.
“I’m taking you to interview a witness,” he said, turning up his radio.
Not a talker. Got it.
He turned onto the main strip of town, and not long after, they turned into the small parking lot of a diner.
The Big Spoon. He’s getting breakfast.
Jerking me around.
He parked and opened his door, but she stayed in her seat.
“Not joining me on the investigation?” he asked.
Don’t fall for it.
“I already ate,” she said without looking at him.
Play it cool.
“Suit yourself, Sheppard.”
He slammed the door shut and jogged to the diner door. He left the foam coffee cup in his holder between them—a cup with a spoon logo that matched the diner’s.
He’s been here already this morning. What’s he up to?
Don’t get on his bad side. Get in there.
She spotted him through the large glass window, sitting at the counter and speaking with the man behind it. After yanking open the heavy front door, the greasy smell from the grill and fryers filled her nose. Saliva formed in her mouth, and she took smaller breaths.
As a vegetarian, she found meat disgusting, but the old familiar smells still made her mouth water.
“Who’s this?” the man behind the counter asked as she took a seat beside Mac.
Mac shrugged and shook his head, chuckling. “No, I’m just fooling with you. Terry, this is Detective Grace Sheppard.”
“Oooh,” the man laughed. “Detective.”
“I’m his new partner,” Grace smiled. “Cup of tea, please?”
“Terry knows I work alone,” Mac said, tapping the counter with his palm.
“Bagels.” Terry slid a brown bag toward Mac. “Her favourite. I got one in there for you too.”
“You remembered to let her know I’m bringing her breakfast, right?”
Terry nodded. “Those buggers practically pushed right by her, Mac. Went into every room and she followed them helplessly.”
“We’ll get ‘em. I need you to make that call about the alarm system, alright?”
“Used to be we could leave our doors unlocked.” Terry shook his head and grabbed a foam cup from the stack behind the counter.
“I know. But this is for Martha, alright?”
> “Thanks for lookin’ out, Mac,” Terry said, tossing a tea bag into the foam cup. “She’ll feel better after talking to you.”
“Don’t mention it,” Mac said, standing. “See you tomorrow.”
He strode away, and Grace stood from her seat.
“You coming?” Mac called, just before the door swung shut.
“I’ll take a rain check on that tea,” Grace said.
Terry chuckled and shook his head.
She dashed out the door and got in the car as Mac turned the key in the ignition.
“We’re not partners,” Mac said before pulling out of the spot.
“For now, we’re working together.”
“I know what happened in Amherst.”
Throw it in my face. Go ahead. You can’t say anything I haven’t heard.
Grace shook her head. “You don’t know everything.”
“I know enough not to trust you,” he said.
Maybe you shouldn’t.
She sat in silence, running her tongue along the inside of her bottom teeth.
Rebutting only made it worse in Amherst. There would be no difference here.
“I’ve never been to a shrink,” he said, “but I bet they tried to make you feel like it wasn’t your fault.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I mean, your contact was killed right in front of you. You disregarded orders,” he said. “It was almost over, and you couldn’t stay out of the way.”
Grace felt her cellphone vibrate in her pocket and checked it, pretending not to listen to him.
Meet me at our spot when you’re off.
Grace sighed and started to type an excuse.
She had been able to keep Madigan at a safe distance during her therapy in Amherst, but since moving to Tall Pines, her sister had been more insistent on getting together, on figuring out what happened while Grace was away.
Looks like it’ll be a long one, she typed.
“I’m taking you along here as a favour, but tomorrow you’re on your own. Do some paperwork or something,” Mac said. “Don’t know why Banning agreed to bring you in. Guess he didn’t have a choice.”
Grace kept her head down, wanting to tell him off. To tell him he didn’t know jack about her assignment, but making enemies right away wasn’t smart.
A little voice of doubt always found a way to creep inside her thoughts.
Give up on the fresh start. It’s impossible. Do the best with what you have.
Do better.
So far, from what she’d gathered, Mac’s weakness was that he saw things in black and white. Right and wrong. Not to mention his cocky demeanor.
See you at eight. Bring alcohol, she typed and sent the text to Madigan.
Mac was quiet for the rest of the drive.
Just for you, Madigan, I’ll come up with a strength, too. Mac’s strength is that he knows how to shut up.
She tried not to look at him and stared out her window.
Be professional. Focus on the job. Show him he can’t break you.
After her shift, she’d need a drink with the only person in the world who still thought she was a good person.
She grabbed the pendant of her necklace that matched Madigan’s and twisted it back and forth.
That’s because she doesn’t know.
And Grace would keep it that way.
She couldn’t lose Madigan.
Chapter Three
Madigan squeezed the folded lawn chairs under her arm, dragging her small cooler through the sand toward the large rock nestled into the face of a short cliff.
They had claimed the spot as their own the year they met, both seven. The year they became sisters—not by blood—but by the bond they shared as misfits. Two innocent children, forced into a new life filled with manipulation, abuse, and desperation.
So desperate that on Grace’s eighth birthday, Madigan hatched a plan to run away together.
Their foster mom, Evette, promised Grace they would take the ferry across the bay into the small town of Tall Pines and spend the night riding all the rides and eating all the treats they wanted at the summer fair.
The plan almost fell through after they’d disappointed Eli, their foster father, by failing one of his missions, but after he left for the night, no doubt on one of his benders, Evette kept her promise and brought them to the fair.
Without a destination in mind, only knowing they wanted to get as far away from home as possible, they slipped away from Evette through the metal gate. Following the long row of tall pines toward the coast, the hum of the crowds faded as they reached the water’s edge and settled on the rocky shore that summer night.
It had been their first time seeing the ocean up close, and Madigan often compared the crashing waves and bubbling water along the shoreline to her own feelings about that night.
They were lost and scared.
Finally, free.
And together.
Madigan dragged the cooler closer to the flat rock, squinting to focus on the port for the ferry in the far-off distance across Bones Bay. Little lights sparkled further up the coast along the shore-line from tiny houses they’d seen from their bedroom window in Amherst, looking out across Bones Bay, while dreaming of living in Tall Pines with a family who loved them, or at least didn’t hurt them.
They dreamed of living the lives of the other little girls at the fair who sat on their father’s shoulders or tugged at their mom’s leg, pointing to what they wanted next.
The little girls from Tall Pines had everything they wanted.
When Grace told Madigan she’d been relocated to Deerhorn County, Madigan was thrilled to learn they would be living in the same place again. To have her close. To have the ability to see each other anytime they wanted. But there had been a sadness in Grace’s voice that day and ever since, so it still came as a beautiful surprise when Grace announced she’d purchased a place on Rosebank Drive, less than half a kilometer away from their spot.
She had chosen a small white beach house on the corner of the street with a beautiful rose garden along the L-shaped walkway leading to a blue front door. With a backyard that overlooked the ocean, a short walk away from their special spot, she’d made their dream come true in her own way.
Madigan wanted to make it a special kind of homecoming.
She spun around in a circle, finding the exact spot they’d taken refuge that summer night, and unfolded the two chairs beside it. She pushed the small cooler in front of them, opened it up, and plunked an icy beer bottle down into each of the chair’s drink holders.
A shadowy figure stumbled down the short rocky footpath from Rosebank Drive toward her.
Grace’s long strides would have given her away had Madigan not expected her. Her long raven-black hair blew in the breeze across her face, and as she kicked sand up behind her with each step, she tucked her hands in her dress pant pockets.
“I knew you’d do something like this.” Grace smiled as Madigan dropped into her chair and cracked open a beer.
“You said bring alcohol.” Madigan held the beer up high before pressing it to her lips and taking a sip.
“I know, but we could have just sat on the rock like we always do.”
Grace sat beside her and pulled her bottle from the holder. As she leaned back, her hair blew across her face, and she pulled it away, sighing.
“Rough first day?” Madigan asked.
“Nothing I didn’t expect.” Grace cracked open the beer and took a sip, sighing afterwards. “It’s beautiful.”
“The water?”
“Everything,” Grace said, and her eyes glazed over.
“Grace? You okay?”
Graced nodded and took another sip.
Madigan wanted to prod further, but in the weeks since Grace had moved back, she’d learned not to pry. It only made her withdraw into herself more.
She’d managed to figure out the relocation had been a demotion, and that whatever had happened to Grace wh
ile she was undercover in Amherst rivaled the trauma they’d faced together as children.
Or maybe it was worse.
Shivers crept up Madigan’s spine, sending chills across her arms. Waves rocked up the shore and rolled back toward the ocean again several times before Grace spoke.
“It reminds me of you,” she said.
“The ocean?” Madigan asked, pulling her sweater on, zipping it up.
Grace nodded.
“It reminds me of you, too.” Madigan took another sip. “I was remembering the night we found this place.”
“I was crazy to let you drag me out here,” Grace laughed, the sound drowned out by the crashing waves.
Even without makeup, Madigan thought Grace was one of the most beautiful women she had ever known. Naturally beautiful—something Madigan had never felt.
As much as she never felt like she fit in, Grace’s appearance—part aboriginal and part Caucasian, both of unknown lineage—set her apart before anyone could even get to know her. Teachers in school would ask Grace questions like what are you, or why did you leave the reserve?
At least I can blend in. Go unnoticed.
“You didn’t even know where we were going.”
Madigan shrugged. “It was a good night. The perfect night.”
“It was my favourite birthday,” Grace said, staring out at the waves.
Madigan turned to her with a grin, ready to make a joke about how mushy she’d been but decided to let the moment linger.
She looks peaceful.
“Cheers to being back,” Madigan said.
They clinked their bottles together and drank.
“I was remembering how we fell asleep,” Grace said. “You remember when we woke up and heard them calling, we thought we were going to jail?”
Madigan nodded. “Eli always warned us if we didn’t do as he said, we’d go to jail. That’s terrifying for a kid.”
“The police came right down there.” Grace pointed to the rocky pathway she’d walked down.
“And Evette was waiting up there for us with open arms, you remember?” Madigan pointed to the ledge they’d both come from, by Rosebank Drive.
“She was crying. She was faking it.” Grace leaned back in her chair.
The Girls Across the Bay Page 2
