Holiday Homecoming Secrets

by Lynette Eason

  “So...what? You were just buying time to figure out what story you were going to tell?”

  His cheeks flushed a bright red, and his startled glance confirmed her suspicions. “You’re not a liar, Tony.” Not a good one, anyway. “What do you know about Frank?”

  He shot a nervous glance at the door. “Not a lot. You said you were looking for him. I don’t know where he is, but if he’s missing, then I guess that means he made the wrong people mad—and I don’t have any desire to do the same.”

  “And who are the wrong people?”

  “Whoever he was investigating.”

  The door chimed. Tony flinched, and Jade spun to see Bryce step inside. He shot her a deep frown. “I thought you were going to wait on me to do this.”

  She blinked at him. “Why would you think that? You’re not a cop.”

  “I’m Frank’s friend and I’ve had training in investigations, remember? I want to help.”

  “We’ll discuss that later.” She glanced at Tony. “What can you tell us about the people Frank was investigating?”

  “Nothing.”

  Right. “Well, why did he have your name on a piece of paper in his desk drawer?”

  “I guess he was going to come shooting sometime. How do I know?”

  She paused, trying to find a way through to him. “What was Frank to you? Did he come shooting here a lot?”

  The man blinked. “Yeah. I mean, sometimes. Not like on a regular basis, but every so often when he had something on his mind.” He paused. “Come to think of it, he was in here quite a bit in the last few weeks.”

  “So, he had something on his mind?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Like what?”

  “Don’t know.”

  More like he wasn’t saying. “Look, Tony, Frank’s a good friend and we really need your help to find him.” Jade held on to her frustration with effort.

  A flash of frustration darkened his eyes—along with a hint of fear. Then he sighed. “I don’t know a whole lot, just that he was looking into people who didn’t want to be looked into, you know what I mean? He—”

  The door chimed, and two young ladies in their midtwenties walked in, each carrying a case that held their weapons. “Hey, Tony,” the taller one said. “We’re here to practice.”

  “Excuse me.” He went to help the women, and Jade spun to confront Bryce.

  “You could make this a lot easier if you would just tell me what Frank was having you help him with.”

  Bryce hesitated, obviously agonizing over the decision, then seemed to make up his mind. He motioned her to the corner of the store farthest away from Tony and his customers. “He thought there were dirty cops in the department.”

  Jade gaped. “He what?”

  “Shh!”

  “What made him think that?” she whispered.

  “He didn’t go into a lot of details, just that he thought there were some cops on the force who didn’t need to be there and wanted to find out who.”

  “But what tipped him off to that? What did he see or hear to make him suspect that?”

  Bryce gave a low groan. “He thought there might be some cops—or at least one—on a drug ring’s payroll, but he didn’t know who. He just had his suspicions and told me who he wanted me to ride with. He wanted to know if any of them made unauthorized stops or met with anyone suspicious. Honestly, I didn’t know what exactly I was looking for, but Frank seemed to think I’d recognize it when I saw it—probably a phone call or a meeting that didn’t look on the up and up. I don’t know.”

  Tony caught her attention and motioned for her to follow him to the back. Bryce stayed on her heels and she let him. Once in his office, Tony jabbed a finger at her. “You’ve got to leave. You’re going to get me killed.”

  Jade blinked. “What are you talking about?”

  “Frank was making enemies left and right. And now you tell me he’s disappeared. You two need to be smart and learn from that. Get out and don’t come back here unless it’s to shoot.”

  “Tony, if you’re worried about—”

  A shot rang out, and Jade and Bryce ducked as one. Glass from the shattered window hit the floor the same time as Tony, the blood stain on his chest growing bigger by the second. The second bullet whizzed past Jade’s left ear, and she grabbed Bryce’s arm as she threw herself behind the desk.

  Bryce landed in an awkward heap next to Jade, thrown off balance by her frantic yank. She scrambled around him. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. You?”

  “Can you check on Tony and call 911 while I go after the shooter?”

  She pulled her gun from her holster and, without waiting for an answer, headed for the office back door.

  “Jade! Don’t!”

  * * *

  Of course, she ignored him. Heart thundering, fighting his protective instincts that urged him to go after her and the need to help the wounded man, Bryce reminded himself that this was Jade’s job and she was trained for this. Then again, so was he. Flashes from the past rose to haunt him, gunfire erupting in his mind while his buddies fell around him.

  Save them, have to save them!

  Bryce crawled over to Tony, ignoring the pull of memories he’d thought he’d dealt with. Bullets popping. Bombs exploding. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. Help him!

  The man was conscious and his hand gripped Bryce’s. “How bad is it?”

  Bryce’s eyes shot open, his mind cleared and training took over. “Not that bad. Hold on.” Spotting a roll of unopened cleaning rags on the bottom shelf next to the desk, Bryce grabbed them and yanked out a handful. Turning, he pressed them to the wound in Tony’s side. Keeping pressure on the area, Bryce dialed 911.

  “911. What’s your emergency?”

  He rattled off the information as fast—and as clearly—as possible. “One man shot. Officer needs help. And I need an ambulance.”

  The sound of fingers clicking on the keyboard reached him. “One’s on the way.”

  God, please protect Jade and don’t let Tony die.

  “Hang on, buddy,” he said. “Help’s coming.”

  “It’s bad, isn’t it?” Tony gasped.

  “Naw, just a nick.” Bryce fell back into combat zone mentality. No matter how bad it is, don’t say. The roll of duct tape on the top shelf caught his attention. He took Tony’s hand and pressed it over the wound. “Hold this and don’t let go.”

  Tony’s pain-filled gaze met his. “Come on, man. How bad? I...served, too.”

  “Yeah, well, this isn’t the Middle East. You’re going to be fine.” He grabbed the tape and ripped strips, then pressed them over the rags. Tony hissed at the pressure. “You hear me? Help’s on the way. You’re going to be all right.”

  No response. He turned. Tony’s dark eyelashes rested on waxen cheeks, and his chest rose with shallow breaths. Blood trickled from the side of his mouth. Bryce’s tension amped higher. “Hold on, Tony,” he whispered. “Please hold on.”

  Incoming! The explosion rocked him, but only in his mind. Sweat poured from him.

  Bryce shook his head.

  “Bryce!”

  He turned to find Jade staring at him.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  How long had she been calling his name? He sucked in a breath. “Yeah. Fine. Where’s backup and the paramedics?”

  “Almost here. How’s Tony?”

  “He’s unconscious, but still breathing.”

  Another long minute passed, but finally the sound of sirens reached him. Officers rushed in. As soon as they cleared the scene, paramedics hurried to Tony, and Bryce stepped back.

  He turned to Jade, who studied him. “You sure you’re all right?” she asked, her eyes clouded with concern.

  “I’m fine. What have you got?”

/>   She held up a bag. “Found the weapon. A witness saw him toss it into a trash can. Probably worried about getting caught with it. I’m going to get the registration number off this weapon and see if we can find out who it’s registered to.”

  “If it’s registered,” Bryce said.

  “True.”

  Bryce waited while Jade spoke to fellow officers and passed the weapon off to one of the crime scene unit members.

  Two hours later, Bryce had finished giving his own statement and was now in the role of observer, trying to figure out his next move while he studied the cops on the scene. Not that the cops Frank suspected of being dirty would have it stamped on their forehead, but he wanted to remember faces. He would put names to them later.

  Jade approached, looking tired and worried. “You okay?” he asked.

  She kept asking him that and he wondered what he’d done to give away his internal struggle against the memories. “Sure. I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Yeah, I am. What about you?”

  She arched a brow at him, and he knew he wasn’t fooling her. “Ready to go home,” she said. “I can do the paperwork on this from there.”

  “I’ll follow you,” he said.

  “No need. I have to stop and get a Christmas tree before I walk through the door or my name will be mud.”

  “I’ll still go with you.”

  She didn’t move, just studied him, a new look in her eyes. A guarded one that he didn’t like. Before he could wonder about the source of it, she shook her head.

  “What am I missing, Bryce?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Who was the target? Tony? Or me? Us? I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Tony got shot the morning I came to talk to him.”

  “I agree.” He paused. “Did someone follow you here?”

  “Possibly. Or you.” She rubbed her head as her phone buzzed. “Detective Hollis. Uh-huh. Okay, thanks. That’s kind of what I figured.” When she hung up, Bryce raised a brow. “The weapon I recovered was stolen.”

  “Of course it was.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, what now? Home or...?” He let his sentence trail off, hoping she’d fill in the blank.

  “Now we check with Heather and see if she’s heard anything from any of Frank’s friends on our way to the hospital to check on Tony Swift.” She cut her eyes to Bryce. “He knows way more than he was telling us. Then I find a Christmas tree and go home to decorate it with my—um—the kids.”

  “How many kids are staying with your parents right now?”

  “Just...well, three.”

  “It’s crazy to think how many kids have come and gone over the years. They’re really special people.”

  “I know.” She paused. “They’re talking about adopting the twins in their care right now.”

  “Oh. Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wow.” He cleared his throat. “That’s a lot of responsibility.”

  Her eyes went frosty. “No kidding. I’ll be sure to pass that tip on to them.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Some of us don’t run away from responsibility. Some of us actually embrace it.”

  He blinked at the hostility shimmering in her voice. “Hey, Jade, I didn’t mean anything—”

  “Don’t worry about it. Are you ready to head to the hospital?”

  He stared at her for a moment before shrugging. “Um...sure.”

  “Great. You can follow me if that’s all right with you.” She didn’t bother to wait for his agreement but headed for her vehicle.

  Bryce frowned. He’d really struck a nerve with Jade. Her reaction seemed to indicate that he ran from responsibility, but what would give her that idea? The fact that he’d stayed the night—that one night—and never contacted her? Probably. She knew he was leaving and why, but she had no idea why he’d stayed away from home for six years with minimal contact. And zero contact with her. Could that be interpreted as running from responsibility somehow? Maybe. Again, probably. At least in her eyes.

  He started to ask her, but her hard jaw and narrowed eyes said right now might not be the best time to broach the subject. He had a feeling if Jade chose to let loose the words she’d swallowed, they might be more deadly than the bullets that had been fired at him earlier that day.

  A good soldier knew when to attack and when to retreat.

  And Bryce had been a very good soldier.

  FIVE

  Captain Colson called just as Jade pulled into one of the hospital parking spots reserved for police. She tapped the screen and lifted the phone to her ear. “Hi, Captain.”

  “Jade, how are you doing?”

  “Hanging in there, sir, thanks.”

  “I got your message about needing a warrant to pull security footage from the cameras across the street from the range. That’s set in motion and I’ll be in touch as soon as I hear something. You can come in and take a look at it if you like. See if anything stands out.”

  Bryce approached the passenger side, and she motioned for him to get in while she was on the phone.

  “Thank you, sir.” She paused.

  “Something else on your mind?”

  “Yes. I think...” Another pause.

  “Say what you need to say, Jade.”

  “I think we should get a cadaver dog out to the mill where we found the shirt.” The words rushed from her mouth, and Bryce’s head whipped around to stare at her. She bit her lip and looked away from him.

  Captain Colson grunted. “All right. I’ll get one out there.”

  “Thanks.” She hung up and shot a look at Bryce. The tight set of his jaw said he wanted to protest and was keeping his tongue in line with great effort. “I just want to rule it out.”

  “I know.”

  “His shirt was found there with two bullet holes in it. I just can’t get that out of my mind.”

  “I know, Jade.”

  While the warrant and the dog were being taken care of, she wanted to check on Tony. She still wasn’t convinced he didn’t know something about Frank’s whereabouts, and if he was awake, he might be more inclined to talk now that he’d been shot.

  “You ready to see if Tony is awake?”

  “I’ll follow you.” She climbed out of the SUV and walked into the hospital.

  Bryce stayed right behind her. She shouldn’t have been so curt with him about the whole responsibility thing. Just because he wasn’t ready—or didn’t want—to have kids didn’t mean he wasn’t responsible. It just meant he wasn’t ready—or he simply didn’t want kids. He had his reasons, and she needed to respect that even if she didn’t like it.

  She was being too antsy, letting her emotions get the best of her. But that scene at the shooting range had gotten to her. He’d been in the middle of a PTSD attack if she’d ever seen one. And she had. The guy she’d dated for a while in Charlotte had had severe PTSD attacks and had refused to deal with them. Much like Bryce had just done. He’d brushed it off and she’d had to let him for now, but she planned to address it at some point. She had to if he was ever going to be a part of Mia’s life—assuming he wanted to be. Regardless, once she told him about Mia, there’d be no going back, and it wasn’t a decision that was black and white anymore.

  Added to the stress of the day, Heather hadn’t answered her calls or acknowledged the voice mails Jade had left, so they knew no more than they had thirty minutes ago about Frank’s timeline and who the last person to see him might have been.

  Jade flashed her badge at the woman sitting at the desk in the surgery waiting room. Her name tag read Martha Bolton. “Hi, Ms. Bolton, I’m Detective Hollis. You had a patient brought in a few hours ago. Tony Swift. I need to talk to him when he wakes up. Do you know how long that might be?”

 
; The woman consulted her computer and frowned. “He’s still in surgery, so I’d say you might have a pretty long wait.”

  Of course. “Have any of his family arrived?”

  “I believe his wife.” She nodded to the corner, where a woman in her midthirties twisted a tissue between her fingers.

  “Thank you. I may have to leave after I talk to her, but if I give you my card, would you call and let me know when he’s out?”

  “Of course, I’ll be happy to.” Mrs. Bolton took the card and taped it to the monitor of her computer.

  “So, we talk to Tony’s wife?” Bryce asked.

  “I talk to Tony’s wife. You can have a seat and wait for me to finish.”

  He pursed his lips. “Come on, Jade, Frank’s my friend, too.”

  She sighed. “Fine, but let me do the talking, please?”

  “Sure.”

  Jade walked over to stand in front of the woman. “Mrs. Swift?”

  She looked up. “Yes?”

  “I’m Jade Hollis. We met last night—or early this morning, rather.”

  “I remember. You came looking for Tony.” Her eyes flashed. “So, it’s your fault he got shot?”

  “No, ma’am. I place that blame on the shooter.”

  “Why were you looking for him? He refused to tell me.”

  “Do you know a man by the name of Frank Shipman?”

  She frowned. “Sounds familiar, but I can’t place him.”

  Bryce pulled out his phone, tapped the screen, then turned it so the woman could see it. “That’s him. The woman on his left is his fiancée.”

  Mrs. Swift studied the photo while she continued to shred the tissue, not seeming to notice—or care—that she was making a pile of white on the floor between her feet. “I think I’ve seen him before.”

  “Where?”

  “At the diner. He and Tony were having coffee one morning. I clean the bank across the street and I’d locked my keys in the car. When I called Tony, he told me he was at the diner, so I walked over there to get Tony’s keys.”

  “And Tony didn’t say why they were meeting?”