Buried Secrets: PAVAD: FBI Case File #0005 (PAVAD: FBI Case Files)

by Calle J. Brookes

  He’d always hated this part of investigations. The collateral damage.

  “No. She was still breathing when she was buried,” Knight said. “She died a few minutes later.”

  “I thought she was dead.” The girl began to cry. “Mom told me she was dead and to get back inside. That she was going to bury Grandma because that’s what we did when people died. Like the cat.”

  Everyone stared at her for a long moment. Luther moved first, handing his granddaughter back to his son, then sliding his arms around Kayla. “You talk to us, Kayla Jean. Tell us what you know. I’ll make it better. I promise.”

  The loving way he touched his daughter seared its way into Knight’s brain. From all accounts, Luther Beise had been a poor father when he’d lived in Masterson County. But evidence in front of him said that had changed since Helen’s death. For the better.

  “Kayla,” Miranda said softly. “Can you tell us about that day?”

  “I…I…”

  “You just take your time,” Knight said, a rush of compassion shooting through him. How young she was struck him. She’d been keeping this secret for fourteen years. This nightmare.

  “I went into the barn, looking for mom. Marnie was awake and wanted Mom,” Kayla began in a whisper. “Mom was so angry when she saw me.”

  “Who was in there with you?” Miranda asked. “Why did you go outside?”

  “I woke up, and my stomach was hurting. I wanted my mom, not my sister. Marnie wanted Mom, too. So I went looking for her.”

  “Which sister?” Knight asked, for the recording that Jac Jones was making.

  “Diane. She…was there. I didn’t want her. She was angry about something. Like always.” Kayla was still crying. Her father had his arm around her. Her sister had shifted closer. Only her brothers hadn’t moved. “Diane always hated us younger girls.”

  All attention was on the girl. She would have been eight years old that day. How much could an eight-year-old really remember?

  Olivia handed her sister a tissue from the box on the center of the table. “Diane has…she can be cruel when she’s angry about something. We tried to stay away from her as much as possible. Still do, honestly. She was in a really bad mood when she came home that day. I’d forgotten that.”

  “She was always angry back then. At least with us. She never wanted to be with us. I believe she spent most of her time with you and your family,” Luke added. “We were more than ok with that. She was grandmother’s favorite, most of the time, and is the most like her.”

  “Does anyone know where she is today?” Clint asked. Knight was wondering the same himself.

  “No. Diane…Diane doesn’t have much interaction with us. She and Mom were really close, though. Especially since we moved. Before that, they argued quite a bit,” Luke said. “After we moved, they were almost best friends. Super-dependent on one another for everything. Without Grandma around, things changed drastically. After the divorce, we all preferred to stay with Dad. Mom’s new boyfriend at the time had three kids of his own half the time—and he didn’t want us around. Mom had no problem with that. But she practically begged Diane to stay.”

  Lesley still hadn’t said much at all. Knight turned to him. “You know where she is? We know you stayed with your mother after your parents divorced. Have you kept in touch with your sister?”

  He nodded. “I have, but I don’t know where she is today. All I know is I got a call from her a few days ago—the day before I was arrested—telling me she was moving for a while and didn’t know where she was going to end up. Asked to borrow a thousand dollars. I didn’t have that kind of money, so she hung up on me after cussing me out. Called back a few hours later, and I sent her $200 through our mother. That’s all I know.”

  “You didn’t think that was unusual?” Miranda asked.

  He shook his head. “No. She did that every six months or so. Diane can be restless, I guess. Never stays in one spot too long.”

  “Drags Dannie along with her,” Luther said, temper in his tone. “I don’t agree with it, but she stopped listening to me a long time ago, that girl.”

  “Dannie?” Miranda asked. “Her daughter?”

  “Yes. Danielle. She’s seven, now,” Olivia said sadly. “She…Diane has some problems with motherhood. We’ve all volunteered to help whenever we could, but Diane isn’t interested. Refuses to admit she’s not providing the best environment for Dannie.”

  Knight wasn’t exactly forming a strong impression of Monica Diane Beise. “Danielle’s father?”

  “Dead. Or so Diane says,” Luther said. “You’ll have to ask Paulie if you want any more on that girl of ours. She’ll be the only one who knows.”

  “Let’s get back to what happened to Helen,” Miranda said. “Kayla, do you remember what time it was?”

  “It was after Mom got home and before Lesley did. That’s really all I remember. And she was in her uniform for the diner. It must have been after three thirty.”

  “Monica—Diane was already home?” Miranda asked.

  Kayla nodded. “She was inside, with us. Searching for Luke. She was mad at him for something.”

  “I don’t remember what it was. I think I may have puked on her jacket that day,” Luke said.

  “You were extremely sick; I remember that,” Luther said. “I was worried, and your mother had called me about you kids. It was why I was home a little before six that night. Afraid we were going to have to take you to the hospital. And your mama was afraid what we’d tell Doc Masterson about your eye.”

  “That’s what you two argued about,” Olivia said. “Monica wanted you to tell the doctor that Lesley did it, instead of Grandma.”

  “Why me?” Lesley asked.

  “Your mother was afraid. Always was afraid of Helen. All of you were,” Luther said, bluntly. “I hated it. But she had us by the shorthairs with the money. We had no choice but to do what she said. Never happier than to not have her involved in my marriage after that.”

  “Then why did you divorce eleven years ago?” Knight asked before he could stop himself.

  “Because without her mama to tell her what to do, Paulie changed. In a real bad way. Controlled everything. Bossed like nobody’s business. Nothing I wanted, or the kids for that matter, made a difference. But she told me that last baby wasn’t mine, and she didn’t want me no more. Tried to kick me out of the house, but the kids…they weren’t having none of it. They ganged up and kicked her out, instead. Pauline never let them forget that.”

  “Let’s not lie about things—she went nuts, started yelling at us all the time. Especially Luke,” Olivia said. “He couldn’t do anything right. Neither could I. Just Monica and Les, mostly.”

  “I took these four and left. Les had a girlfriend. He stayed behind with his mother. Four months later or so—I think…” Luther looked at his daughters for confirmation. “Four months later, she brought the baby back and left her with me. I hadn’t wanted Paulie to take her, but she did.”

  “I stayed with her for another year, until she kicked me out. I ticked her off over something. I don’t want to keep trash talking my mom,” Lesley said.

  “Nobody does,” Miranda said. “But we need to know what happened. We need the answers.”

  “Here’s what I think happened.” Lesley leaned forward, tone turning aggressive. Toward Miranda. Knight dropped a hand to her shoulder. And left it there. He barely resisted the urge to bare his teeth until the other man got the hint.

  Lesley Beise wasn’t putting his hands on her ever again.

  59

  Miranda felt the warm hand on her shoulder, and she drew in a breath. Borrowed a little bit of strength from the man beside her, strange as that sounded. “Go on, Les. What happened?”

  “Mom got mad, didn’t she? Probably mad at Grandma. They were always arguing. Grandma tried to hit her. Mom hit back. It just kept going from that. And that asshole Jimmy had to butt in. You already said he admitted he buried Grandma. He killed her. Mom was just
there by accident. Probably trying to protect one of us. Then, she packed us up and we left. That’s it. An accident.”

  “Is that what happened?” Miranda asked softly. “Or is that what she told you? You and Monica?”

  It was a gamble. But…he’d spoken too knowledgeably. Too…scripted.

  “What do you mean? That’s what probably happened,” Lesley bit out.

  He was one of the worst liars she’d ever met. “Have you spoken with your mother since your arrest?”

  He shook his head. “No. But I spoke to Diane. Finally. I asked her what happened. I wasn’t home when it all happened, remember?”

  “What did she say?” Miranda wanted his attention focused on her. She knew something about her triggered him. Apparently it always had. “Les?”

  “She said she called Mom, but got Mom’s boss. Said Mom was in jail. Because of Grandma. And that it was probably just an accident or something. Mom didn’t mean to hit Grandma with that rake handle or whatever it was.”

  “Was Monica there that day?” Miranda was ninety-nine percent certain Monica had been in town picking up her paycheck from the diner at four or so that day. She wouldn’t have had time to get there before Helen was killed. But she might have heard something or been told something after.

  “No. She got there just before I did. She’s always sworn that. She got there before I did.”

  “Why does it matter?” Kayla asked quietly. “Monica was inside the house the whole time. I saw her. She gave me a bath and dressed me in clean clothes because I didn’t want to move. Then she gave me a bag and told me to pack. That Grandma was making us leave. Mom came in a few minutes later, and everything changed. We moved.”

  “Did anyone besides your mother and Jim Hollace go outside into that barn between four p.m. and six p.m.?” Knight asked bluntly. Miranda easily sensed his frustration and impatience. He was a bulldozer, used to rolling right over obstacles.

  “No one did, that we can remember. But it was fourteen years ago. We were sick and freaking out over having to move, and maybe we missed something. But as far as we know, Mom was the only one who went outside.” Luke said, just as impatiently as Knight. “How much longer do we have to keep going over this? I need to pick up my kids in forty-five minutes.”

  Miranda nodded and looked at her teammates. They’d accomplished exactly what they’d set out to do. Jac had recorded the entire interview on her phone. Max had the video. It would be uploaded to the PAVAD server shortly. “Thank you for coming in today. It’s appreciated.”

  Luther stood. “I…got to ask. What’s going to happen to them? To Paulie and Jim? I’m sure they didn’t mean to hurt Helen. And I don’t doubt Paulie was just defending herself, or the kids. It wasn’t the first time the old witch had tried to hurt one of them. Maybe Paulie just snapped. I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”

  “Whatever happened that day, Pauline and Jim covered it up. They’ll both be assigned attorneys. After that, it’s up to the courts to decide.”

  Miranda watched the Beises file out as a group.

  Regardless of what their mother had done, they were a family.

  They would get through. Probably come out on the other side even stronger. Families were like that. Resilient. At least, the ones that loved each other, anyway.

  She had a few more things to follow up on—they needed to find Monica and confirm what they’d learned today—which confirmed what they’d already suspected. Pauline and her mother had argued, most likely Helen tried to strike her daughter. Pauline hit back, then panicked. Asked her lover to bury the body.

  They’d have Clint’s people and Joel’s deputies follow up with interviews, have forensics comb over the barn one more time to see if they could find a murder weapon—she suspected it would be a rake handle, now—and they’d take the next steps before having Pauline and Jim Hollace charged with the murder of Helen Caudrell.

  The arrests were officially Clint and Joel’s.

  It would be time for PAVAD to step back and move on to the next case, very, very soon.

  Now though, she was going to finish what she needed to today, and she was going to go home. Spend some time with her family.

  And put a few states between herself and Allan Knight for a while, too.

  The man had completely disconcerted her. Miranda needed to work through that for a few days, at least. Then everything would get right back to normal.

  60

  Knight was glad the case was over. It had been more intense than he’d expected it to be. What had happened to Clint Gunderson for no good reason would stay with him for a while.

  Clint’s daughter and the woman he loved could have died because a cop had gotten pissed and gotten drunk. That would never sit right. He didn’t think it ever could.

  He was sticking around for one more night. Miranda had made it clear she would handle the official end-of-case protocols in the morning. He’d started the case with her, he was going to finish with her.

  Jac Jones was off somewhere; he suspected she was staying in order to visit with the Talley family, who had made no bones about the fact that they’d semi-adopted her as one of their own. She even called Miranda’s grandmother Grandma Flo.

  It overwhelmed the quieter Jac, Knight suspected. He didn’t know her story, but he didn’t think she had much family of her own. Something he definitely understood.

  Jac had quietly impressed him. He’d gladly offer her a position with the cold-case division. If he took it. He’d offer all the agents he’d worked with a position, if they applied.

  Except for Dr. Miranda Talley.

  That woman was like his own personal lightning storm. When she struck—usually with just a smile—she singed him clear down to his toes.

  No. Distance between them was the name of the game.

  If he wanted to keep his sanity.

  He entered the Masterson Sheriff’s Office in time to see her wrapped up in Clint Gunderson’s arms, just giving him what comfort she no doubt thought he needed.

  She loved.

  Miranda loved openly with all those who mattered to her.

  Welcoming, beautiful, loving, open.

  She was the antithesis of what he needed in his life right now. Knight just stopped walking and stared at her. Glared.

  No woman had confused him like she had in years.

  He just stood there until she shot him a sunny smile and strolled out of the building like she owned it.

  Knight just watched her go.

  Yep. She was a storm of problems. He’d best just keep himself far away. A few more hours, and he’d be out of Masterson forever.

  61

  She was going to miss home. No surprise. It was always bittersweet to leave here. But Miranda knew the truth; unlike her cousins and Marin and Meyra, while she loved Masterson, it wasn’t where she was meant to be. At least not in this season of her life.

  Season. She smiled; maybe she and Marin were a bit more alike than she realized. Meant? People weren’t meant to be anywhere. They either chose to be happy where they were, or they chose not to be.

  She’d always love Masterson. Always.

  Jac was waiting at the diner. Unlike the rest of the team, she hadn’t flown back with Carrie Lorcan. She’d understood that Miranda needed a night with her family before she headed back to St. Louis. Jac was a good best friend; Miranda would keep her. Her grandmother had taken Jac under her wing from the first time Miranda had convinced Jac to swing through Masterson when they’d finished a case in northern Idaho. Something Miranda had long suspected Jac needed. Jac was so alone sometimes.

  Miranda pushed open the door to the inn, expecting to be met by Chloe. She wasn’t. Miranda had accepted it a long time ago—there would be a time she came home and wasn’t greeted by the dog any longer. And that she’d probably not get to be with Chloe when the end happened. That stung. Hurt in ways she didn’t want to think about.

  Bittersweet.

  “Chloe! I’m here, baby.” That was the wor
d to describe Masterson now. It was always that way when it was time to leave. Bittersweet.

  The silence of the inn was her only answer. “Chloe!”

  The sound of doggie claws on the hardwood didn’t come. Her heart jumped; just a little. Miranda forced herself to relax. Chloe was partially deaf, and old. She was probably curled up on Dusty’s bed, sound asleep. Dusty had assumed care of Chloe when Miranda had left seven years ago. Now, Chloe followed her cousin just about everywhere. She’d always be thankful for how much her cousin loved Chloe. It made leaving Chloe a little easier.

  Miranda started down the hall.

  Dusty had the bedroom behind the kitchen that had once belonged to the chief cook of the inn almost one hundred years ago. It was just behind the ground floor hallway entrance to the family wing above.

  “Anyone in here?” Miranda called one more time.

  The inn was huge, with almost forty bedrooms on three floors. Someone was always around somewhere. Well, mostly.

  They didn’t have any guests right now. Not since everyone from PAVAD had left.

  Grandma had put the sign on the front desk to walk the block up to the diner or to call the diner and someone would be with them shortly. There was a good chance the inn was deserted at the moment.

  It truly was a different world in Masterson sometimes. She liked it just like that.

  She would check for Chloe in Dusty’s room, then head over to the diner to see if Dusty or her grandmother knew where the dog was.

  Miranda entered the kitchen, just as something hard slammed into the back of her head and sent her sprawling across the tile.

  That’s when she saw the blood.

  Her cousin, Dixie, slumped just inside the back door.

  “You bitch! You think you’re so clever, so perfect, don’t you, Randi?”

  A foot slammed into her already broken ribs, and fire shot through her side so fast Miranda screamed. Another blow to the back of her head came next.