Rekindled

by Jen Talty

  “I’ve so screwed up, haven’t I?” she whispered.

  “Don’t look back, just move forward.”

  “Easier said than done.”

  He shifted the covers and swung his legs to the side of the bed. Part of him really wanted to know what she’d done to be in so deep with a man like De Luca, but if he did and it was illegal, he’d be in one hell of a predicament.

  “Blaine?” Her voice rang out soft and sweet.

  “What, babe?”

  “Be careful.”

  He smiled, remembering his first day of working as a police officer and she’d said those same words. They’d been married for a few months, and she’d gotten up, made him breakfast, and tried like hell not to cry because she was so scared he’d get shot. Back then he had wanted to laugh because not much happened in this sleepy little town, but today…today he didn’t want to laugh.

  “I will. You promise to hang close to Toby and Emma?”

  She slipped her arms around him, pressing her lips against his bare chest. “I’ll get up and make you something to eat.”

  “That will wake Toby and Emma. I’ll be just fine.”

  “You never go five minutes without food.”

  “I’ll figure something out, just go back to sleep.” He kissed her temple and tucked her back into bed, hoping the work day wouldn’t be too long. He wanted to rummage through that house.

  “Do you think that a secret room really exists?” Kaylee asked.

  “You lived there, not me.” Blaine finished getting dressed.

  “My mother said that’s how Daddy spied on her. Once she woke me in the middle of the night to go search for the room. She’d been drinking, and I…I…I was terrified I’d turn out just like her.”

  Blaine looked down at the beautiful vision lying in his bed. “You’re not your mother.”

  She rose up on an elbow. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For not throwing me to the wolves.”

  “I wouldn’t ever do that.” He sighed and then made his way down the dark stairs. Emma and Toby didn’t move, so Blaine just slipped on his boots and grabbed his coat and gun. Hopefully the wind would die down, the sun would come out, and the day wouldn’t be too long. He wanted in that house. That room was somewhere inside and he knew it.

  After hours of shoveling cars out of snowbanks, putting groceries away for half the elderly in the community, and finding two missing dogs, Blaine’s body begged for a rest, but his mind was still agonizing over Kaylee and her predicament.

  “You wouldn’t believe all the crap I’ve found on this De Luca guy,” Stacey, the secretary, said. “He’s involved in a high-profile murder, and the Grand Jury is discussing the possibility of indicting him and half his family on all sorts of charges.”

  Blaine took the cup of coffee she offered him and stared into the black liquid like it had all the answers. “Remember, this is unofficial.” Unofficial or not, he’d taken an oath, one he was duty-bound to uphold. Right now, he was glad Kaylee hadn’t told him much of anything.

  “Well, this jelly doughnut isn’t unofficial.”

  “Aw, shucks.” He smiled, taking the doughnut. “Best way to a man’s heart.”

  “I don’t want your heart, Blaine, just a few answers.”

  “It’s better if you don’t ask, that way if I screw up, I won’t take you down with me.”

  “I don’t mind bending the rules for you,” Stacey said. “But I’d like to know why the sudden interest in the mob.” She gave him a pointed look. For a young girl of maybe twenty-three, Stacey was one smart woman.

  “I think they might have set my Mustang on fire.”

  “Why would you think that?” she asked with her head cocked to the side and both her hands firmly planted on her hips.

  He took a long sip of his coffee, ignoring Stacey’s glare. She’d been working for the department since she was eighteen, and was a wealth of knowledge, but too damn nosey for her own good. She was also dating a local firefighter, who’d been at his house last night. He was sure she’d gotten all sorts of unofficial information.

  “I know that fire was set on purpose, but it wasn’t to get at you,” she said with a clipped tone.

  “Stay out of it, Stacey. Let me do my job.”

  “Your job doesn’t include harboring a material—”

  “Stop right there,” Blaine said. “Someone shot at a guest of mine, then tried to light my house on fire. My job is to find that person and make sure they suffer the consequences of their actions.” He paused to take a deep breath. “It’s not my job to interrogate my houseguests when they haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “I don’t think you know who you’re dealing with.” Stacey gave him a level stare. “Here’s what I found.” She tossed a file onto his desk.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now watch your back.” She stormed out of his office.

  He’d been bending the rules since he knew how, not to the point of breaking the law, but just enough to keep informed. The more information he had about De Luca, the better. Although, before looking at these files, he needed Emma to pull out any incriminating information on Kaylee.

  If it was documented and staring at him in the face, he’d be forced to act. Not something he was prepared to do, and not just because she was sharing his bed again.

  Heavy footsteps down the hallway indicated Dave was on his way. Blaine stuffed the files into his backpack and set them aside. Dave was a rules man and didn’t always approve of Blaine’s methods, but he’d never called him on them as long as Blaine didn’t blatantly wave them under Dave’s nose. And it didn’t cause another “technicality.”

  “I’ll split the night shift with you,” Dave plopped himself in the chair, rubbed his scruffy face, and closed his eyes. “We’ll go back to regular rotation on Monday, but you and I’ve got to take tonight and tomorrow night.”

  “I’ll take the second half, both nights.”

  Dave arched a brow. “You want to trade off around three in the morning?”

  “Yeah, but I’m taking Monday off.”

  “You’ve already got Monday off this week.”

  Blaine shook his head. “No, I don’t.”

  Dave grunted something, then rolled his head to the side. “Do I have Monday off?”

  “Yep.”

  “Wonderful. Before I forget, the bullet we dug out of Toby’s snowmobile matches the bullets we found in your yard.”

  Blaine slipped his arms through his coat. “What about the car?”

  “Stolen two days ago. The owner reported it immediately, and State filed the report.”

  “So we’re still chasing a ghost.”

  “I also got an ID on some prints lifted off Rutherford’s house.”

  That stopped Blaine at the door. “Really?” He turned back to look at his boss. “And?”

  “Mrs. Linda Hicks. She’d been fingerprinted when she volunteered at the elementary school.”

  “Interesting,” Blaine said. “So I get to ask her a few questions?”

  “You can ask her when the last time she saw him was and if she was at the house, but since they were friends at one time, it’s possible her prints could be in the house.”

  “Well, let’s find out what she has to say.” Blaine turned on his heels and headed out of the station. His first stop would be the burger joint on the way out of town, then he’d pay a little visit to the Hicks’ household.

  The sun began to dull as it made its descent into the western sky. The snow was piled high, but the air hadn’t lost its frigidness, not yet giving way to spring warmth.

  Blaine finished his burger and fries in record time and was still hungry when he pulled into the lavish home of Reverend Hicks. He tried to remember everything he could about every encounter he’d had with the Hickses over the years and came to one very simple conclusion. They were too perfect. He couldn’t find one thing out of place, except for the odd relationship the good R
everend had with Rutherford.

  They’d been friends for years, and to find out Rutherford went back on his word with the Reverend and his church did seem out of the ordinary. As did their friendship. Rutherford wasn’t a church-going man. The Catholics would call him a C and E or Christmas and Easter kind of worshiper. Blaine got the distinct impression that Mrs. Hicks didn’t really like Rutherford all that much, but she tolerated him.

  Blaine looked around the snowy yard and the manicured home. Linda had always been the kind of woman who demanded perfection. Rachael used to say that her mother told her, “You must always look good on the outside, because that is what people will see.” Blaine couldn’t wait to find out what skeletons lurked in their closets.

  He made his way up the snowy porch, rang the doorbell, and waited. He could hear faint voices, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

  “Why, hello, Blaine.” Reverend Hicks waved him in as he pushed back the door. “What brings you out here on a snowy day like today?”

  “Official business.”

  A shocked look followed by a nervous smile appeared on Jack’s face.

  “I’d like to speak with Mrs. Hicks, if you don’t mind, sir.” Blaine looked around the foyer. The smell of something sweet lingered in the air.

  “She’s a little under the weather right now.”

  “What’s wrong?” Blaine asked.

  “Nothing serious, just a touch of the flu. Maybe you could come back another day.”

  “You understand I don’t like doing this to you, but we have reason to believe she might have seen Rutherford Mead the night he died.” Blaine tried to look as sympathetic as possible. “You understand.”

  Jack nodded. “I saw him the day before.”

  “You and him had a falling out?” Blaine rested a hand on Jack’s shoulder.

  “Somewhat. He told me about the change in his will. I wasn’t happy about it, but it’s his house and she is his daughter. I’m glad he wanted to reconcile with her.”

  “We know Rutherford couldn’t have been Kaylee’s biological father.” Blaine studied Jack’s face, looking for any clue . “Any idea who it could be?”

  “Why do you want to know? That’s a personal thing and up to Kaylee.”

  “Not sure, but perhaps it has something to do with Rutherford’s death.”

  “I see,” Reverend Hicks said. “I hate to point the finger at anyone, but Hadley Danks would be my guess. However, that would be pure speculation on my part.”

  “Why Hadley?”

  “He was dating her right before Rutherford was.”

  “How well did you know Roberta?”

  “She liked to come to church. She wasn’t a happy soul and sought solace in God.”

  Blaine wondered what else she sought at the church. “Would you mind asking Mrs. Hicks if I could just have a moment of her time and then I’ll be on my way?”

  “Let him in,” a gruff female voice said from the other room.

  Blaine was ushered into the family room where the first thing he noticed was the sweet smell had gotten stronger. The second thing was Mrs. Hicks was hiding something under the blanket she’d just thrown around herself.

  She coughed. “What do you need, young man?”

  “Have you been at the Meads’ house in the last few weeks?”

  “I have.”

  “And what were you doing there?” Blaine asked.

  “Delivering an antique piece he’d bought from my daughter. I’m working for her part-time now.”

  “Did you notice anything odd or out of the ordinary?” Blaine scanned the clutter-free room. Not a speck of dust anywhere.

  “Rutherford had been acting odd ever since he’d decided to try and get that wayward daughter of his to come home, ungrateful young lady that she is.”

  “Linda—”

  “Well, it’s true, but then again, you understand all about that little operator, don’t you, Officer Walker?” She hiccupped, and Blaine got a good whiff of alcohol.

  Blaine ignored the dig. “Is there anything else you could tell me that might help us find out who killed Rutherford?” Blaine asked, knowing this interview was going nowhere fast. He’d need to do a little digging and come back when he had a better handle on the situation.

  “Just that he went back on his word. We could have done so much for the community with that house. We’d planned on turning it into a retreat for our youth, maybe even a summer camp.”

  “That sounds very nice, Mrs. Hicks. If you think of anything else that might help, don’t hesitate to call me. I can see myself out.” He held his hand out toward the Reverend who’d been sitting down in a chair near the window, never looking at his wife. The Reverend shook it weakly.

  Blaine walked slowly to the front door, admiring the antique furniture and the paintings on the wall. As he made his way to his car, his mind raced with a million questions.

  During the ride to the Mead house, Blaine couldn’t remember a time when he’d seen Mrs. Hicks drunk, or even having anything other than a glass of wine here or there. She’d always been prim and proper. She was the walking definition of stuck up.

  Rachael had once told him she thought her parents might get a divorce because all they ever did was fight. She mentioned something about her mother being upset that the good Reverend had spent too much time with the problems of other people instead of with his own family. At the time, Blaine had brushed it off because he figured it was the Reverend’s job, but maybe Rachael had a point. He flipped open his cell and hit star one, calling his mother.

  “Hi, honey,” his mother answered. “Mrs. Tillman called and said you helped her grandson find his dog.”

  “It was one of those days. Where are you?”

  “I’m at the farm.”

  “You planning on spending the night there?” Blaine didn’t really want to know, but under the circumstances, he wanted to know his mother would be safe.

  “I am,” she said.

  “All right. I don’t know where I’ll be tonight, and I just didn’t want you to be alone with all that is going on.”

  “It’s been a bit scary.”

  “Can I ask you something?” Blaine wasn’t sure this was the right time or place, except he was relying on Dave to protect his mother.

  “Sure.”

  “Do you love him?”

  Blaine pulled into the long, unplowed gravel drive to the Mead residence, hoping his patrol car would make it without getting stuck.

  “I do,” she said.

  “Does he make you happy?” Blaine asked.

  “He does.”

  “Then I’m happy.”

  “I miss your father,” she said softly. “Dave still misses Sally. We have a common bond that brought us together.”

  “I’m good with it,” he said. “And Dad is good with it.” He covered his heart, knowing his father was looking down at them, and smiled. His father had always told them that the dead wanted the living to not only continue breathing, but to truly be happy. His mother was doing just that. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Blaine?”

  “What?” He rolled the patrol car to a stop behind his pickup and Toby’s rusty old Jeep.

  “I can feel your confusion. Follow your heart this time.”

  His heart had lied to him before. “Right now, I’m tracking a killer; my heart has nothing to do with it. Good night, Mother.” He flipped off his phone. His heart had everything to do with it, but he couldn’t afford to let it get in the way.

  10

  Kaylee stood alone in her father’s room, her heart pounding so fast, sweet beading across her forehead. The room hadn’t changed at all since she’d left. The light-brown walls looked freshly painted, but they were the same color. The comforter was still green, and the furniture the same dark cherry her parents had always had. Her father wasn’t too keen on change.

  She took a deep breath and noticed a faint rosy smell. Wrinkling her nose, she tried to figure out why t
he aroma was so familiar. Unable to place it, she lifted the bed ruffle, finding a bunch of shoeboxes. She figured they were his old slippers, but she pulled them all out anyway and placed them on the bed.

  “Hey,” a voice called from behind her.

  She jumped, letting out a gasp as she turned. “Emma, you scared me.”

  “Sorry.” Emma glided across the large room, the hardwood floors rattling. She plopped herself down on the edge of the bed. “I can’t believe you grew up here. It must have been so cool.” She swiped her hand over the lush bedspread.

  Kaylee let out a dry laugh and looked at Emma. Kaylee had spent most of the last ten years not letting too many people in. She didn’t trust easily, and when she did, it was always the wrong person. Something about Emma made Kaylee feel more comfortable than she was used to.

  “Not so much when your mother’s schizophrenic and your father’s busy making his millions. He didn’t even have time for a goodnight kiss most days.” Kaylee studied the soft expression on Emma’s usually stern face. She could be so professional and unapproachable at times, but when they were just hanging out, she was a completely different person.

  “Was it really that bad?” Emma’s smile dropped a little.

  “I was expected to cover up my mother’s illness and many indiscretions. My father demanded that I be the best and be friends with a certain class of people. I was told to be nice and considerate, but dating Blaine sent my father on a rampage. He accused me of using Blaine just to get attention.”

  “Did you?”

  Kaylee narrowed her eyes, though it was an honest question. One she’d answered many times. “I hid my relationship with Blaine for nearly a year until Rachael spilled the beans.”

  “Toby really doesn’t like her much.”

  “She’s not so bad. And Toby can be a judgmental dick who knows how to hold a grudge.” Kaylee opened the first box with trembling fingers, glad Emma was in the room, just in case she found something unnerving. “My father had way too many slippers.” She examined the expensive suede custom-made slippers before putting them back in the box.

  “Is Rachael a good friend of yours?”