by Chris Taylor
“I’m not sure that I’ve thanked you properly for all you’ve done for Toby. The change in him is almost miraculous. When I stumbled across him in the ED that night, I was shocked. I couldn’t believe it was him. Now, he’s like the same old brother I used to know, years ago, before—”
He stopped abruptly. A tortured expression took possession of his face. Hannah’s heart clenched. She’d never stopped to consider how Luke’s death had affected Jacob, or anyone else. She hadn’t been able to see past her own pain. She bowed her head in shame.
“I’m sorry, Jacob. I treated you horribly. I can’t believe how selfish I’ve been.”
He stepped closer, until less than a foot separated them. Her breath caught.
“Don’t blame yourself, Hannah,” he said gently. “Most people would have reacted that way. Hell, I probably would have, too, if our situations had been reversed.”
“Was it terrible inside the prison?” she asked quietly.
He shrugged and his expression hardened. “It was what it was.”
“You wanted to become a police officer.”
He averted his gaze. “It’s hard to apply to the police academy with a criminal record. My chances of being accepted were next to impossible.”
Hannah gasped at the bitterness in his eyes. All of a sudden it occurred to her she hadn’t been the only one whose future had been stolen that night.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.”
They stared at each other, their breathing loud in the stillness. The air between them grew charged. Jacob leaned closer. Hannah’s heart beat double-time. With mere inches between them, she turned her head away.
Jacob immediately stepped back. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I shouldn’t have—”
“Max thinks his nephew’s caught up in an insurance scam,” she blurted in a panic, her only thought to stop Jacob from kissing her once again. She’d enjoyed it far too much the first time. She couldn’t let it happen again.
Jacob frowned in confusion. “Who’s Max?”
“Max Grace. My boss. The owner of the funeral home.”
Comprehension flooded his features. “Oh, that Max.” He frowned again. “Why would I care that his nephew’s caught up in an insurance scam?”
“Because your brother works in the same establishment and… It might be a whole lot worse.” In somber tones, she explained about the policy Max had found and what Toby had said the doctor had asked during his physical. After she finished, Jacob shook his head.
“This is unbelievable! I assume your boss has taken his concerns to the police?”
Hannah shrugged. “He said he would.”
“I’ll make sure of it. I’ll call Lane and have him check it out. If what this Max suspects is true, it’s possible a murderer’s walking the corridors of that funeral home. It sounds dangerous, for you and especially for Toby. There’s no good reason why Max’s nephew should request a medical on my brother for life insurance purposes. What’s the name of your colleague who died?”
“Edward Sutton. He’s the one you read about in the paper. But there’s more. Remember when you told me about Edward and I thought you were talking about someone else? There was another man by the name of Christopher Lowrey who worked in the funeral home. He was killed a month before Toby started. He was hit by a truck. Apparently, he stumbled out onto the road. The driver didn’t even see him.”
Jacob looked doubtful. “Two accidental deaths in a short space of time. That sounds a little odd. What was the name of the insurance company?”
“General & Life.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. I saw it on the front page of the policy.”
“What’s this Bobby Grace like? Does he come off as someone capable of murder?”
Hannah shrugged. “Who knows? He’s big and brawny and mean and comes across as being tough, but how would I know? That might just be a front. He likes to intimidate me, but he doesn’t really frighten me. His lack of work ethic means he hasn’t endeared himself to anyone at the funeral home, but he doesn’t come across as truly sinister. I don’t know what to think.”
“We can’t sit on this,” Jacob said, a note of urgency in his voice. “It might be nothing, but something tells me it’s not. Too much doesn’t sit right. We need to make sure Max has alerted the police. Lane will be able to find out. It’s outside his jurisdiction, but I’m sure he can do a search on a database and see if a report has been made. He might be able to run a few names through the system, starting with Bobby Grace.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Detective Sergeant Lane Black stared at the computer screen in front of him and yawned. His twelve-month-old twins were suffering from chest infections and it felt like he’d been woken every hour on the hour with their crying. He was thankful Zara had gotten up to attend the boys most of the time, but still, his sleep had been far from restful. Glancing at the clock on the squad room wall, he sighed. It was barely nine in the morning. He still had hours to go.
Dragging his keyboard toward him, he looked down at the names he’d scribbled on the paper after receiving a call from his brother the night before: Max and Robert aka “Bobby” Grace. Jacob had raised serious concerns about the people who owned a funeral home in Balmain; the same people who now employed their brother.
Typing in the name Max Grace, Lane waited for the results. Nothing. He tried the name Maxwell Grace. Still nothing. Perhaps the man was clean? It was possible. Not everyone had a criminal record, despite what it felt like some days.
Lane cleared the search page and then entered the second name into the field. Almost immediately, the search engine brought up results. Checking the dates of birth, Lane swallowed his surprise. The old man might not have a criminal record, but his nephew was another matter.
Scrolling through the entries, Lane scanned the text. Robert Grace had criminal convictions dating back to his childhood. Break and enters, minor assaults and offensive behavior had escalated to armed robberies. By the time Robert was an adult, he’d spent a number of years in juvenile detention and his incarceration didn’t stop there.
Lane skimmed over the entries and his gaze snagged on the dates. He frowned in bemusement. Robert Grace had spent time in the same prison as Jacob and it appeared they’d been in there together for at least part of that time. Lane wondered if Jacob even knew about that; if he was aware one of the persons of interest had actually shared his prison cell. Lane intended to find out.
* * *
Jacob smiled down at the little girl who stared up at him with large, blue eyes. Kimberly Kincaid’s fat blond braids were splayed across the pillow and fanned out at the ends. He’d just informed her it was necessary for him to retrieve the tiny pink bead she’d stuffed up her nose and fear now shadowed her gaze.
“Will it hurt?” she whispered, her voice edged in panic.
“No, honey,” he promised. “I’m going to give you a special medicine that will make everything seem a little funny. You’ll still be awake, but you won’t be aware of things so much. I’m going to use these tweezers to get hold of that little bead. It will be out before you know it.”
The child glanced at her mother who sat beside the bed, holding her daughter’s hand.
“Are you sure it won’t hurt?” Kimberly asked Jacob again.
He gave her a wink. “I’m sure. Now, I need you to lie really still while we get this done. I’m going to let you hold this little mask. I want you to put it over your nose and mouth and breathe in.”
Kimberly did as he asked. A moment later, she wrinkled her nose. “Yuck, this stuff smells gross.”
Jacob grinned. “You’re right, honey. It does smell a little gross, but it’s going to help ease your discomfort when I go in and get this bead out. What’s it doing up there, anyway? It’s a very strange place to store a bead.”
The little girl giggled and glanced across at her mom. “He’s funny, Mommy.”
Kimberly
’s mother smiled back and eyed Jacob gratefully. “Yes, he is, honey. Now, lie still and do as the doctor asked.”
Kimberly did as her mother said and wriggled back against the bed. Jacob motioned to the nurse who stood not far away.
“Bridget, if you can remove the mask from our patient and adjust that light so I can see all the way up her nose, that would be great,” he said.
The nurse did as he instructed and as carefully and quickly as he could, with a pair of tweezers, he grasped hold of the bead that was lodged in the child’s nostril. The bead landed in the stainless steel kidney dish with a little ping.
“There, all done!” Jacob announced with another smile.
Kimberly’s eyes widened in surprise. “It’s out? We’re finished already?”
“Yes, we are. Would you like to have a look at it?”
Jacob held the kidney dish where she could see the pink bead lying innocently inside.
The child once again scrunched up her nose. “Yuck.”
“You might need to leave the beads in your jewelry box next time, instead of putting them up your nose,” Jacob teased.
“Yes, that’s for sure,” Kimberly’s mom wholeheartedly agreed. “Thank you, Doctor Black,” she added. “We appreciate all that you’ve done.”
Jacob smiled, accepting her thanks. “No problem, Mrs Kincaid. That’s what we’re here for. You’re free to take Kimberly home.”
Kimberly struggled off the bed and then reached for her mother’s hand.
“What do you say to the doctor, Kimberly?” her mom asked.
Kimberly turned back to Jacob and gave him a grin. “Thank you, Doctor.”
He smiled back at her, ignoring the quiet yearning that surged through him. He wondered if he’d ever have kids of his own. “You take care now, Kimberly,” he said.
With a wave, the little girl turned away and headed toward the exit with her mom.
“Good job, Doctor Black. You’re going to make a fine daddy one day.”
The comment jolted him out of his thoughts. He blinked and stared at Bridget who had remained behind and was now removing the sheet from the bed.
“Thank you,” he managed and then blushed. A fortnight earlier, he might have been flattered by the frank interest displayed in the nurse’s eyes. He might have even taken her up on her unspoken invitation. But now, Hannah Langdon was back on the scene and back in his life. No, not back in his life. Just…back and there was no room for anyone else.
All thoughts of romantic entanglements with anyone else were unceremoniously thrust aside. It was like his heart wanted to think it had a second chance. Or even a first chance… It wasn’t like they’d ever dated. He’d been her boyfriend’s best mate. That was all. They were friends. The four of them. She and Luke. Him and Toby. And then, Luke was dead and they hadn’t even been that.
The vibrating of his cell phone against his chest snagged his attention. He tugged it out and looked at the screen.
Lane.
Jacob’s gut tightened in anticipation. His thoughts returned to the conversation he’d had with his older brother the night before and he wondered if Lane had anything important to impart. Pressing the button, he moved away and answered the call.
“Lane, how are things?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jacob took a swallow from his bottle of beer and breathed a sigh of relief that his twelve-hour shift was finally over. From his favorite spot on the balcony of his fifth floor apartment, he leaned back against the deck chair and set his feet up on the footstool. The gentle hum of traffic, mostly heading out of the city, lulled him into a relaxed mood.
It had been hours since he’d spoken to Lane, but it was only now that he let himself think about what his brother had said. Robert Grace had done time in prison. The two of them had shared a cell. Jacob had had no idea that the Robert Grace Hannah had spoken of, and The Bobster from prison, were one and the same.
He hadn’t had any cause to make the connection. He hadn’t even known The Bobster’s real name and he hadn’t wanted to know. He was there to do his time with the minimum of fuss and keeping to himself was his first priority. One thing he did know was the man had saved his life.
Jacob thought about Hannah’s revelations—the death of a work colleague a month earlier; a life insurance policy owned by Robert Grace in the name of a man who’d died in a questionable accident; Bobby requesting a medical on his brother for life insurance purposes. None of these things sat well. On their own, they were less sinister, but taken together, he had a horrible feeling something was dreadfully wrong and Robert Grace appeared to be at the heart of it.
The Bobster was far from an angel. In fact, it was his penchant for stealing that had landed him in prison in the first place, but Jacob found it difficult to believe the same man’s behavior had escalated to something almost too awful to contemplate. The Bobster he’d known eight years ago was a drug addict and an honorable thief. Not a murderer.
At least, he hadn’t been. The last time Jacob had seen him was the day Jacob’s sentence had ended. He’d walked out of prison and hadn’t looked back. He’d deliberately refrained from contacting any of the men he’d met inside, including The Bobster, who still had a few years remaining on his sentence. While Jacob would never forget what the man had done for him, he had no intention of remaining connected to or reminded about his prison life—and that included The Bobster.
Taking another sip from the bottle of beer in his hand, Jacob savored the cold, yeasty taste on his tongue and tried not to think about the two long years he’d spent incarcerated. Seven-hundred-and-thirty days he thought he’d never survive. And yet he had. Thanks to The Bobster.
With another mouthful of beer on board, his thoughts turned to Hannah. He wondered what to tell her. At the least, he could reassure her she had nothing to fear from Robert Grace. The man might be a criminal, but he wasn’t dangerous to anyone who hadn’t given him cause to hate them, and Jacob couldn’t imagine either Hannah or Toby falling into that category. There’s no way he killed those two employees. But that begged another question: If not The Bobster, then who?
But what would he say if she asked how he knew with such certainty Robert Grace wasn’t a suspect? Would he tell her about their shared history? That they’d met each other in prison? It wasn’t exactly the kind of information most people found comforting when they were seeking reassurance about someone’s character. Then again, most people at the Sydney Harbour Hospital would have been shocked to discover he’d spent two years of his life in jail.
Thanks in part to The Bobster, Jacob had chosen to use his time while incarcerated, to further his education. With his dream of being a police officer in tatters, he began to think of other ways he might productively engage his mind.
There were always fights in prison and bloodletting was a common occurrence. Quite by chance, Jacob found he had an affinity for healing his fellow inmates and even though he only had basic first aid supplies available, the men began to seek him out. Word soon got around about his interest and aptitude for medicine and the warden paid him a visit. Jacob had expected the warden to forbid him from practicing his skills in the cells, but instead, the man surprised him by suggesting Jacob might want to study to become a doctor.
For a while, Jacob had dismissed the idea as ridiculous. It had never occurred to him when he was younger to seek a career in the medical profession. But that was before the night of November eighteenth; before his life spiraled out of control. Before his youthful dreams of following in his father’s footsteps disintegrated into dust.
And now, eight years later, he was a well-respected emergency room doctor at one of Sydney’s most illustrious hospitals—still yearning for something he couldn’t have…
No, not something. Someone. Beautiful Hannah Langdon. She’d always been beyond his reach. And nothing had changed.
He wasn’t kidding himself into believing she’d actually sought out his advice and help. She’d only told him about her conc
erns in an effort to stop him from kissing her. That was the sad and depressing truth. She’d wanted to distract him from his purpose, so she’d raised the possibility of devious and dangerous deeds. He was glad she had, because her concerns were valid, but it would have been nicer if she’d opened up to him for other reasons and at a slightly more convenient time.
Still, she’d talked to him about it and he now had an excuse to call her. Lane had filled him in on the background checks Lane had run on the Grace men. Jacob could reassure her she had nothing to fear from either of them.
He tugged out his cell and scrolled through his contacts. He’d saved her number when Toby had called him from her phone. Now, a surge of nervous excitement went through him at the thought of speaking to her again. It didn’t seem to matter that his feelings weren’t reciprocated. He was happy to have contact with her on whatever terms he could—and that was just plain sad and pathetic.
He’d do better to concentrate his efforts on someone like Bridget Alexander. It was obvious the cute nurse was interested and she’d be a helluva lot easier to date than Hannah Langdon, with all the tumultuous history they shared.
But that was the problem. Bridget was friendly and attractive, yet he wasn’t in love with her and could never imagine being so. His heart had been snagged by a blond, blue-eyed teenager who had a smile full of sunshine and warmth. Though it would be kinder if he’d matured out of it, nothing had changed over the intervening decade, not even after a two-year stint in jail.
With a sigh of resignation, Jacob pushed the memories aside and dialed Hannah’s number.
* * *
Hannah leaned over the balcony of her eighth floor apartment and stared at the twinkling lights below. The cool night air brought with it the scent of orange blossoms and the occasional gust of exhaust fumes. It had been a busy day at work. Three members of the same family had been killed in a car accident a few days earlier. All three had arrived at the funeral home.
It had been sad, but oddly comforting to prepare them for their final resting places. One of the victims had been a child. Hannah had been a little nervous about how Toby might cope with carrying out the embalming procedure with a young person, but he’d been almost awestruck at the honor of being part of the tragic event.
