Dark Secrets

by Savannah Kade

The left side of the room was packed tight, but the right was almost empty, showing off an almost methodical system. Grace headed straight towards it and started shining the light on what looked like the most recent boxes. Sure enough, some dates were even from earlier today. She traced the light backward through the days and Nate tried to follow for a bit, but his eyes quickly crossed. She was looking for something particular and he’d serve them better as a lookout.

  He turned back to the door they’d pushed almost shut. That would save them if anyone came down the hall. Stopping and standing as still as he could, Nate didn’t close his eyes—too dangerous—but he focused on the sounds around him. He heard crickets. Noises in the forest beyond them. The building popping and creaking. A car in the distance. That was the one that made him nervous. A car could be out here for no reason. Or it could be headed this way. He was turning to Grace to say something when she spoke first.

  “Got it.” She was already pulling a box from the shelf and handing him the flashlight to hold. The lid was off, and she had the bag opened before he could even say anything. Grace shook her head. “The red light is making it hard to distinguish the color.”

  Then she put her head near the bag and smelled. Had he said something about love? He was watching her sniff her brother’s remains. But he had to respect it when she looked up and said, “It might not be Jimmy but it’s at least animal and I think it’s human.”

  Well, that was a skill he didn’t expect to find anywhere else.

  They knelt and began the process of dumping the cremains into a zip-top bag and then putting the cake mix into the original bag.

  As he stood up, he heard another car sound. This time closer. His heart started tripping.

  “We have to get out of here.”

  “We have to put it back the way we found it, or this was all pointless.”

  Nate agreed, but it didn’t make him less nervous. By the time she had the box back in place and the room looking untouched, he was sprinting down the hall. The car was getting closer. He definitely did not like it now.

  Grace came flying through the door behind him, a triumphant smile on her face. That is, until she hit the moonlight and saw the expression on his.

  “Go, get into the woods. Someone’s getting closer.”

  “You’re not coming?”

  She wasn’t going! “Grace, move! I have to put the lock back. If I don’t, this whole thing is pointless, right?”

  He was already shoving the lock picking mechanism into the awkwardly shaped keyhole. It took three breath-holding tries but he heard one of the tumblers click and, this time, when he tried to turn it, it held tight.

  He didn’t even try to put the pick kit away, but he had his weapon out in his other hand. Nate bolted toward the woods. He heard tires hitting gravel just as he made it into the trees.

  * * *

  Grace stopped running long enough to look back for Nate. He was hard to see, which was the idea, but right now she hated it.

  They kept going nearly blindly in the dark. That worked in her favor, but she hated that, too. Petrified of stumbling, she played the odds of how fast she could go and how much a stumble might cost them. Lost time? A twisted ankle? Noise?

  She had no idea what was back there, but whatever it was, it made Nate run. That scared the crap out of her.

  Her breathing heavy, Grace was sure she was alerting the whole world to her presence. She was pretty sure she was on the path back to the car, but it was at least a mile away. Nate hadn’t wanted anyone to see them at the crematorium, so they’d hiked in. Now she was running the trail backward, uphill, in the dark. She’d only ever come down it the one time.

  She hugged the stupid zipper baggie with her brother’s ashes close to her heart and prayed they made it. None of this meant anything if she didn’t survive. Grace was certain that losing Jimmy was tearing her parents up. It was part of why she was here—to at least prove that he hadn’t done it to himself. But if they lost her, too? She didn’t know if they’d make it through that. She wasn’t going to let her entire family be wiped out by some crazed drug dealer.

  Her grandmother had immigrated into a southern US state that hated the Vietnamese. But she’d persevered, been kind, and changed minds. Her mixed-race daughter had married a Chinese man and stayed in that American South. Grace had not yet married and had her own children. Jimmy had not either.

  She stumbled a little, rolling her ankle and shooting fear straight and cold up her spine. But she pushed onward, not feeling pain. It hit her then, that she was the last of her line. Turning again, she looked behind her for Nate and found him closer than she’d expected.

  He was still waving her onward, even though he was catching up. Now was not the time for questions. At least he was here.

  A few minutes later, he’d passed in front of her, grabbed her hand and was gently tugging her along. His footsteps showed her where to go. His hand pulled her but also helped hold her upright. His presence helped her push forward when she was long since out of breath and ready to quit.

  It seemed forever later that they got to the car. Nate had pulled in to another gated road, this time an old logging road. Still, he’d tucked the car off the way and covered it in branches. Grace ducked around to the passenger side and came up under the branches, slowly opening the door and sliding in. She didn’t do a visual sweep of the backseat to look for anything lurking; she trusted Nate to do that for her. She was just grateful to have made it with her brother’s ashes still with her.

  Sinking bonelessly into the passenger seat, Grace waited while Nate sat for a moment, listening to the surroundings. She almost apologized for her still heavy breathing but figured that would cause more problems than an “I’m sorry” would help. Instead, she vowed to go to the gym more regularly. She wasn’t out of shape, but damn, she’d not been ready for a one-mile obstacle sprint in the dead of night.

  She almost chuckled as Nate started the engine and pulled out. If you’d told her she’d need that skill two weeks ago, she’d have laughed you off the face of the earth and commented that since dead people were pretty slow, her running skills weren’t required. Boy, had she been wrong.

  They headed down the road in the direction they’d come in from. It wasn’t until Nate consulted some paper map he’d found that she realized there was actually a plan. She asked.

  “We’re following this road we’re on…to this one over here. It’s a U.S. Forest Service road. Here. Can you navigate?” He handed the paper over to her.

  “No GPS?” She asked, immediately wishing it hadn’t come out of her mouth. She didn’t have any energy left, even for wasted words.

  “Nope, can’t have anyone pinging all the cell phones in the area and finding us.”

  She nodded and looked back at the map. It was easier to follow now that it was in her own lap. She followed the forestry road around to where it connected to a highway. Thank God. “I need a hot meal, a shower, and a bed.”

  Nate sighed in return and she didn’t like the sound. “I can offer you the snacks from the back seat, an icy cold lake, and a tent. We can’t afford to hit the roads until tomorrow. We need sleep and we need to stay hidden.”

  Well, shit. Grace rested her head against the seat and wondered if she could just expire here.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Nate woke up to the sounds of birds and running water and to the bone-deep fear that he’d missed something. He’d slept so hard, he hadn’t even realized that Grace was awake and missing.

  Normally, he would have taken a slow check of the tent before unzipping it and popping out into a possible ambush, but this time he didn’t. Where was she? At that moment he hated that the tent was opaque. Usually, that was good. He couldn’t see out, but no one could see in either. Right now, he wished it was clear.

  Outside the tent, he stood up and only then realized that—in his fear—he’d drawn his weapon. If he was lucky, she was fine. But his heart pounded. Nothing about this case said “lucky.”


  He couldn’t yell for her. If someone had managed to follow them here…she could be dead. Yanked from the tent in the middle of the night. Tortured. His mind went terrible places, but he talked himself down. He wasn’t normally a heavy sleeper. He didn’t think Grace could have been pulled out of the tent without him rousing unless he’d been drugged.

  Nate crouched down, trying to make himself a smaller a target, and stalked out around the tent. As he moved, he thought up three different ways someone could have drugged him and dragged Grace away. He told himself that, even though it was possible, it still wasn’t likely, and he kept moving forward. Thinking like a cop was painful sometimes.

  He followed the most likely path and was grateful when it led down to the water. He couldn’t get his heart rate to slow, but he could think. If Grace had just gotten up and needed to take care of things—which was the best option—then she likely would have gone toward the water.

  He’d set them up in close proximity to the river the night before in case they needed it. Moving water meant rapid escape. The cold could mean death, but it was at least slower than bullets and offered more chances for survival. She’d been asleep by the time they made it here, and he’d pulled things out of the trunk, set up the tent, cut down more branches to cover it and even inflated the mattress, all while she slept.

  He didn’t begrudge her the work, and that was a first for him. He’d been raised for everyone to pull their fair share. But the fact was, Grace always pulled. Sometimes more than her share and, for some reason, it made him want to do more for her, too. He’d protected people before, but they’d been useless at best, dangerous at worst. Mostly, he’d been in danger because they’d gotten themselves in trouble. Not Grace.

  So he’d set everything up, nudged her awake, and led her to the tent. Though he’d tried to get her to eat something, she’d stayed mostly asleep. The only thing she did was clutch the bag with her brother’s ashes and shove it under the mattress so she was sleeping on top of it. No one was going to take it without her knowledge.

  Shit. He should have thought to check for it before he left the tent.

  But he saw her then and his heart flipped over as boulders of stress rolled off his shoulders. She was fine.

  He took three deep breaths and holstered his weapon. Turning his feet sideways, he started down the steep slope to where she was. By the time he arrived, she’d seen him, turned and waved.

  Holy shit. She was topless. Only once he calmed down did he see she’d used her t-shirt as a washcloth and was doing her best to bathe in the icy river. She’d periodically shiver as the water hit her skin. Now that he knew she was safe, it was turning him on.

  At the bottom, he pulled up next to her, delighted when she didn’t try to cover herself. He grabbed both sides of her face and pulled her in for a soul deep kiss that even he didn’t quite know where it came from.

  As he pulled back, Nate realized that kiss let the last of his fear dissipate and he took a deep sigh. “I’m sorry for the morning breath, but I had to do that. You scared the crap out of me. There wasn’t even a note.”

  He didn’t mean to berate her, but it had come out, riding the last wave of his adrenaline.

  She smiled. “I tried. But there was no paper. I had a pen, but it’s in my purse, which is in the car, which is locked. I did find a bark that makes a color but writing where I was on the outside of the tent didn’t seem wise.”

  Grace turned back to her bathing and Nate almost couldn’t take it. She was watching him from the side of her eyes and offering a sly smile. When she handed over a toothbrush, he took it.

  Three minutes later, he’d assessed the surroundings and decided that anyone watching them was beyond stealthy. If he was going to die, it would be happy. So as Grace watched, he peeled every stitch of clothing and walked down into the river.

  “Holy crap! That’s cold!” He barked it out, trying not to yell it for all the world to hear. But he dunked under, held his hand out for the soap and took the world’s quickest, coldest bath.

  Then, as he climbed out, shivering, he approached Grace. “Hold me. I’m cold.”

  “That’s your own fault.” She shrieked and stepped back.

  They should be quiet, he knew. But he wanted her. He was grateful she was here, she was okay. He needed a moment to hold her and maybe more. But she was laughing and scrambling up the slope away from him as she pulled a dry t-shirt on. He saw how it clung to her and grabbed his things and chased her up the hill like a lunatic.

  * * *

  They’d risked going inside at a butcher and baker cafe but took their food to eat in the car. Grace sighed and leaned back. It tasted heavenly.

  “I’m sorry it’s not a nice restaurant. You deserve better.”

  “It’s not Taco Bell,” she told him taking another bite of the sandwich she’d gotten. “And I don’t know what I deserve. I’m the one who opened up this can of worms, so I’m not sure why you think I deserve better.”

  He nodded and seemed to think about it. “I made the can of worms by not catching the problems with the case when they first came up.”

  She shook her head. She’d walked in that first day wondering how the Dark Falls police could have missed something so obvious. “No, once I saw that medical examiner’s report, I knew you’d have to be very well trained in a field other than your own to catch it. You would have had to call your ME a liar to his face to see what was going on. I don’t hold that against you.”

  “Well, I appreciate it.” He was grinning, and she had to go and ask. He answered. “I really liked what you held against me in the tent this afternoon.”

  She’d bust out laughing, but hoped it hid the hot flush that spread through her system at the memory of the way he’d slowed down and showed her how much he wanted her. They were in close quarters and clearly attracted to each other, but she was starting to think there was more than just circumstance here.

  Grace told herself not to fall for him, but it wasn’t working. When her stomach growled, at the sight of the Taco Bell, he’d told her to hang on, he knew somewhere better. And while he wasn’t coming up with flowers and nice dates, but he was doing the absolute best given the circumstances. He didn’t have to, either. He could have assigned her to someone else. Could have pushed her out of the loop. Just her handling her brother’s ashes caused problems with the chain of evidence—well, stealing them had done that, too—but she was the only one who even knew what to do with them. The only one they knew wasn’t compromised in some way.

  As a case, this was all kinds of messed up. As a romance, it was, too. But she was actually enjoying parts of it. The sandwich and the close quarters of the car. Trying not to scream his name into the tiny tent as she came again and again under his clever mouth. The way he looked at her.

  The running, petrified, through the forest had not been fun. Nate disappearing at Kevin’s had not been fun. But she was holding up and she believed they’d find Jimmy’s killer.

  She finished the sandwich and fresh cut fries and felt one hundred times better. She was shoving Nate’s trash down into the bag when her phone started ringing. She held it up. “I don’t know the number.”

  “Answer it. If it’s a robocall or a survey, it will at least confuse anyone tracking the call records. But no one should have this number except people we know.”

  “Maybe Kevin.” She said as she answered, hopeful. The cell phone with the note that Nate had left inside Kevin’s car would only clue him that it was from her. She and Nate were counting on him being smart enough to not use his own phone. He had to know Jimmy wouldn’t have done this to himself. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Grace. This is Mari Zaragosa. It’s good to finally talk to you.”

  “Hey! How did you get to call?”

  There was a laugh on the other end of the line. “I had some serious shaking to do to be sure I was alone. I’m in a hotel room out of town with my own burner phone and a bug sweeper.”

  That was some d
edication, Grace thought.

  “Can you put me on speaker?” As soon as she did it Zaragosa started talking to Nate. “I’ve got an update. Someone stole James Lee’s ashes from the crematorium last night.”

  Grace looked at Nate with wide eyes and saw him looking back at her.

  “What exactly did they take?” he asked, keeping one eye on the road.

  “Only James Lee’s ashes.”

  Zaragosa hadn’t figured it out yet, so Grace hopped in. “How do you know? I mean, what objects specifically are missing?”

  “The box that held his ashes. The logs say it was there. The clerk saw something on the floor, like spilled ashes, so they probably opened it up to check, then made off with it. Before you ask, no other remains are missing.”

  Grace looked at Nate right as they both busted out laughing. When Mari pressed them, Nate explained. “We stole Jimmy’s ashes last night. We got in and out right before the next crew came along. They stole the cake mix we substituted for the cremains.”

  “Cake mix?”

  “Yeah, we’re on our way to Albuquerque to get these tested.” It took a few more minutes to explain, but Grace noticed Nate didn’t tell that they were headed back that night. That they already had testing being performed on the blood samples from the hotel room. That it was Brad Layelle who’d found them a second lab because Nate didn’t fully trust Reena Johnson from the first lab not to roll on them if pressed. And it was better not to have all their tests at one lab. Albuquerque was the closest place that had the capability for the tests they needed.

  This time, Grace had called ahead. Their contact with the lab was ready and waiting. In the parking lot, she climbed into the back seat of their car and scooped a quarter of Jimmy’s ashes into the container she had waiting. While she was doing that, she Grace a vial and told her to spit into it.

  Unable to speak while making her sample, she’d let the tech explain. “According to Grace, first we need to prove this is actually the cremated remains of James Lee. Without a hair with a rootball, a blood sample, or a skin scraping, his sister is the best option to match him to. We won’t be able to prove it’s James Lee but we can prove these ashes belong to a direct family member of Grace’s. Since James is the only option, that will do.”