by Jan Coffey
“I need help,” she pleaded into the phone. “There’s a girl here. She’s—”
A scream cut through the laughter…and then there was silence.
Deep, thick silence.
And then only the sound of the water lapping the rocks at her feet.
CHAPTER 1
Sixteen Years Later
“We celebrate the life that never dies and the love that lives forever. We celebrate that Terri’s life with God is one without suffering or pain. It is an eternal life of joy and bliss.”
Gavin MacFadyen leaned against the heavy wallpaper in the reception room and let the words of the minister drift past him.
They’d been partners for a dog’s age. Hundreds of stakeouts. Scores of murder cases. He remembered every one. And he remembered how he used to kid her about the meticulous record-keeping she was fond of, the anal way she liked to organize their workload. Man, the endless arguments they used to have over nothing, just for the sake of arguing. He and Terri had been paired up for over ten years. He’d been on the force for ten years prior to that. That made him the senior partner, but he’d admit to anyone—except her—that she was better at the job than he was. She was tougher, meaner, more dedicated, and she made a habit of getting so deep into every case that it became personal.
Terri lived the life of a cop around the clock. That is, until her sister showed up at the end of this past summer. Still, the job never suffered. Terri was the best of the best. Thirty-eight years old. Too young to die. Way too young.
Some two hundred people, mostly dressed in uniform blues, crowded the funeral home halfway between New Haven and Westbury in a dead gray city straddling rusted train tracks and a murky brown river. Terri hadn’t lived here, didn’t work here, didn’t go to church here. But the younger sister had arranged for the service to be held here. She’d chosen a place as isolated and off-track as she was herself.
Gavin’s gaze focused on Lacey Watkins sitting in the front row. Chairs on either side of her sat empty. No friends. Nobody to hold her hand. The last one left of their family. Black knee-length skirt and black fitted shirt. Dark hair pulled into a tight ponytail. She just stared at a flower arrangement by the foot of the podium. No emotion showing. No tissues in hand to wipe away tears…real or pretend. From this angle he could see the mask of indifference that she wore like a second skin. He knew it didn’t mean she wasn’t feeling anything. It was just there. He’d seen the same expression on Terri’s face plenty of times. It was a give-nothing-away look. On Lacey, it made her look like a beautiful statue. Untouched. Cold.
“We celebrate Terri as one who has gone before us and who will greet us again.” There was a pause and a long moment of reflection before the speaker encouraged the crowd to repeat lines of prayers.
“Hey. Sorry, man.”
Gavin turned his head and acknowledged the squarely built man who edged in next to him. Luke Brandt was a detective at New Haven PD. Gavin had retired this past year from the force to start his own private investigation firm, but that didn’t stop him from staying in touch with the old crew.
“When did you get back?”
“Last night,” Gavin told him.
Terri had died in a hit and run accident in Westbury a week ago Saturday. Gavin had been in Las Vegas going over the security arrangements with the management company for some concerts coming up at Mohegan Sun. No one had called him about Terri’s death until he was back in Connecticut.
“When did you find out?”
“Last night.”
“That’s tough.” Brandt shook his head with a frown.
Gavin had never been close with Luke. They both played their cards close to the vest. That’s just the way they were built.
“How’s the case going? Any leads on the car and the driver?”
Luke shook his head. “The Chief could tell you more about what’s been done. But as far as I know, they’ve got nothing.”
The service ended. Gavin saw Lacey Watkins stand up as a line of people approached her. Her response wasn’t much different from before. A nod. A brief handshake. He saw her glance around once at the door, clearly impatient to get out.
“Sort of sad to lose Terri and have that one hit the jackpot.” The detective stared at Lacey.
“Jackpot?”
“Pension. Life insurance. Savings. Everybody knew how Terri was about socking it away. Gotta be a pretty good pile of cash. It doesn’t get better than that for a jailbird.”
“Back up. Terri always said her little sister was a troubled kid in the wrong place at the wrong time, and she still did three years for it. Not exactly a jailbird.” His flash of temper surprised him. Must have been for the sake of his old partner. Terri loved her sister. Gavin didn’t think he’d ever seen her as happy as this past summer when Lacey agreed to move back here.
“I’m just saying it’s a pretty sweet deal.”
Gavin was in no mood to play defense attorney. He shrugged and walked away. Brandt obviously had never lost a sister.
He wanted to meet Lacey, convey his condolences. Terri had been keeping the two of them at arm’s length. She’d told him why, too. Too many one-night stands. She didn’t want to have to shoot him in the balls when he got close to Lacey and started something. Gavin had no doubt Terri would have done it, too.
A gaggle of uniforms surrounded him. Everyone knew him. They wanted to know what he was up to. Many expressed condolences to him. Marg Botto, the last girlfriend of Terri’s that Gavin knew of, stopped him. Marg and Terri had parted ways last spring.
“It’s not right,” she said, holding it together. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”
Gavin patted Marg gently on the shoulder and cut through the crowd. By the time he worked his way through to Lacey’s seat, she was gone. But he saw the small purse left under the chair. He picked it up. Compact and light, the black case was easy to carry and obviously easier to forget. The main door to the hall was packed with people taking their time getting out. A side door was ajar, and Gavin caught a glimpse of fallen yellow leaves plastered to a cement walk.
He pushed open the door. A crowd was gathered in front of the building. The walkway snaked through some ornamental shrubbery and down to the parking lot behind the funeral home. Lacey was hurrying down the path. Limping.
He followed her. “Where are you going that’s so important?”
Today was about Terri and there were a lot of people still here to honor her memory. A life worth honoring. Terri had been so consumed by the idea of helping her sister, of rebuilding their family. She talked all the time about Lacey and how she’d never had a fair chance at life. And how it was a miracle that they were being given another opportunity.
Lacey reached the car and yanked unsuccessfully on the latch. When it wouldn’t budge, she banged on the roof of the car and her shoulders sagged. She hugged her middle, her head dropping onto her chest, her bluster crumbling before his eyes. Her body began to shake as she leaned onto the car.
“Shit.” He didn’t do well with women in tears. Uneasiness rushed through him. He felt like an intruder, watching her fall apart like this. And he was also an asshole for thinking that she didn’t care.
The tap on a horn made her jerk her head around. Gavin realized he was blocking a car from going by. Lacey’s gaze flicked over him, and she quickly turned away, brushing back tears.
He took his time approaching her. “Hi. You left this under your chair.”
“Thank you.” She reached out awkwardly and grabbed the purse, refusing to look at him.
“I was going to keep it, but I was afraid there might be a cop or two around.”
The look she sent him was worth the wisecrack. Her eyes were green and they glistened like emeralds.
It was impossible not to stare. She had the same body type and facial mold as her sister. But there were many differences. The slant of her dark green eyes. The full lower lip. The soft line of her jaw. The pale skin. The slender column of her throat. His gaze mo
ved down to the rise and fall of her breasts under the fitted shirt. The sudden wave of lust rushing through him was unexpected. And uncalled for.
“Gavin MacFadyen,” he said, getting his head back into the moment. “I was Terri’s partner at NHPD.”
“Terri often…” Her husky voice faltered. “She often spoke of you.”
“I’m sorry about what happened,” he managed to say. “I was away. I didn’t know.”
She looked at the car. Gavin didn’t want her to go yet.
“Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?”
A slight shake of the head. A few more tears escaped. She had the keys in her hand.
Gavin dug deep for some way to delay her. “Can I take you out for a cup of coffee? A late breakfast? Can we go someplace and talk?”
She shook her head and the beep of the car lock told him his time was up.
He yanked one of his business cards out of his pocket and offered it to her. He was relieved when she took it. He held her hand for an extra beat, waiting until she met his gaze again. Her fingers were like ice.
“Just call me if you need anything.”
“Thank you.”
Gavin opened the car door for her and gawked as the black skirt hiked up to mid-thigh when she got behind the wheel. He felt like he was back in high school, but it didn’t matter. The buttons of her shirt strained, teasing him with a glimpse of a white flesh above a black bra.
She closed the door and started the car before he could come up with some other lame invitation.
There was no point in analyzing what had just happened. The woman was beautiful and vulnerable and he was attracted to her. True, this was the first time they’d met, but he knew so much about Lacey that he felt he’d known her forever.
Heading back to his car, Gavin realized that he wasn’t the only one watching her drive away.
Across the parking lot under a tree, an old man in a gray raincoat and battered fishing hat was staring at Lacey’s silver Honda as it moved along the driveway to the street.
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