Forbidden Secrets

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by Morgan Kelley


  “I need you to find a murderer.”

  That stopped them all.

  “Who was killed?” Tori asked. Her curiosity was piqued at that one simple sentence.

  There was a pause.

  “Me. I need you to find the person who is about to kill me.”

  Well, that said it all.

  Chapter Two

  They didn’t know what to say.

  That one statement caught each and every one of them off guard.

  How could it not?

  Besides being surprised was the obvious conundrum.

  How the hell did you answer something like that?

  The woman standing there looked to be totally sane, and yet, what she was saying was absurd. She needed to hire them to solve her murder?

  Really?

  There was no way this was on the up and up. Someone had to be playing one hell of an epic prank.

  “Excuse me?” Tori stated, gathering her bearings first.

  “My name is Lennox Easton, and I have been trying to hire you for two months. Someone is trying to kill me. I need your help to stop them, or I need your help for when they succeed. Either way, I want to hire your agency.”

  Tori glanced over at her husband.

  This was new.

  While they ran into the dead often, it wasn’t usually when they were still kicking.

  Tori had to believe this was a prank. It had to be.

  Justin and Julian were notorious for pulling things like this to catch her off guard. There was no way this woman was the real deal.

  “Who’s jacking with me?” Tori asked.

  They all shook their heads.

  “I think she’s being serious, Tor, I recognize her,” Nyx stated. “She’s in the society pages all the time. The Easton family is pretty well known.”

  Tori still wasn’t convinced.

  “Justin, if this is…”

  He cut her off. “It’s not me, Tor. I swear on Viv’s life that I don’t know what the hell is going on. I’m just as confused as you are.”

  One of the good things about Justin and Julian was that they didn’t lie, and they didn’t swear on their wives if they weren’t being one hundred percent honest.

  Justin was off the hook.

  “Jules?”

  “I swear, honey. This isn’t me. I don’t like chaos in the office, and this is one hell of a spectacle.”

  She believed him too.

  Okay, the normal suspects were in the clear. That meant this was legit. Now it was time to get to the bottom of it.

  Tori glanced over at Lena.

  “What’s going on?”

  She’d get the story from Lena. There was no way in hell the woman would be in on this.

  “She came in, tried to get into the office, and I tried to stop her. She’s got a mean elbow,” she said, rubbing her jaw. “I couldn’t stop her. She was hell bent on seeing you.”

  Tori didn’t know what to say.

  Honestly, she wasn’t prepared for this.

  “Where’s our real client?” she asked.

  “He didn’t show.”

  Well, that cleared up the schedule. It looked like they didn’t have to worry about a double booking—of sorts. Before she could say anything, Julian laid down the law.

  Tori could see by his face that he wasn’t amused—not in the least. This was his pride and joy, and he didn’t like when people made a mockery of it.

  “You should leave,” Julian stated. “We don’t help people who strong arm their way into our offices. We have rules and standards.”

  She didn’t budge.

  Instead, she took a defensive stance, as if waiting for someone to try to carry her out.

  “Didn’t you hear me? If I leave here, my picture won’t be in the society pages. It’ll be in the obituaries. Someone is trying to end my life. I’m not coming here to be a bitch. I’m coming here because I need you to save my life. In the case you don’t, I need you to find my killer.”

  Tori glanced over at her husband.

  She didn’t think the woman was insane. She was well dressed. She apparently had money, and they did have the time.

  Technically.

  Their no-show opened their schedule. While they worked on the premise of first come first served, their client blew them off, and to them...that was just as bad as what she did.

  Julian saw the look from his wife. He knew what she was thinking. He was too. If this woman was legit, and something happened to her, they were going to be partially responsible.

  “Have a seat, Miss Easton.”

  She let out a breath in relief.

  Lennox took a seat not far from Everhart, still keeping her distance. She kept glancing over at him with trepidation. It was as if his big size scared her.

  Then again, if someone was trying to kill her, she should be wary of just about everyone.

  “You have twenty minutes to explain,” Tori offered. “We aren’t saying we’ll take your case, but we will allow you to tell us what’s going on, and we will go from there.”

  “Thank you. I’m sorry I had to be dramatic. I’ve seriously been trying to get in to see you for two months.”

  Yeah, they were busy.

  “Lena, you can go,” Tori offered.

  They waited for her to go.

  “Your time starts now,” Tori stated.

  The woman pulled out a file from her bag.

  “What’s that?”

  “If you’ve seen me in the paper, then you’ve also heard about my family,” she stated. “There were six of us—my mother, father, uncle, grandmother, brother, and myself.”

  “Okay, and?”

  “They’ve all been killed. These are the obituaries. I’m the last living heir to the Easton estate.”

  Hart rolled his eyes.

  It was clear where he stood on this one. As an ex-cop, he’d had to deal with the rich, privileged, and self-entitled. Then there was Ivy’s mother. He’d fallen for a younger woman, who ditched his ass after a few hours of partying. She’d been rich, and just like this woman.

  Ivy’s mother left a bad taste in his mouth for all and any wealthy socialites. He’d rather hang out with snakes in a pit.

  Yeah, he didn’t like people like Lennox Easton, and he never would.

  “Over what time frame?” asked Tori, taking the papers to begin reading over them.

  “It’s been a slow progression over the last ten years.”

  They all looked up at her.

  Ten years?

  Seriously?

  “I know I sound crazy, but someone is trying to get rid of me.” Yeah, that wasn’t the least of her issues. She also had a house that was stirred up, and she didn’t even know what to do about it either.

  Tori didn’t say anything.

  Apparently, her assessment of the woman’s sanity was a tad bit off. She sounded loopy—oh, and desperate.

  “I swear to you that I’m not making this up. Look at the first paper. That’s my mother, Mariah Easton. She died when I was twenty.”

  Julian was reading over his wife’s shoulder. “How did she die?” he asked.

  “She was hiking on her favorite walking trail, and they found a body at the bottom of the cliff. She’d fallen.”

  They stared at her.

  She knew what they were thinking.

  Lennox had encountered the look with every single person she’d asked to help her get to the truth.

  No one believed her.

  No one.

  “Listen to me before you judge. She went there three times a week to get her hike on. She didn’t fall. My mother knew that trail like the back of her hand.”

  “Other than that, what makes you think she didn’t fall? We can’t go on that alone. We need something substantial,” Julian asked.

  No one on the team was saying a word. Whether they bought it or not didn’t matter. This was all about the bosses deciding if they would take her case or not.

  Tori and Julian had the fi
nal say.

  “Her phone and keys were missing. The man who called it in said there was nothing found with her. My mother drove to those trails. The keys weren’t in her car, or on her body, so who took them?”

  “Maybe they were misplaced?” Hart offered. “If you’ve ever been to a crime scene, things get moved. It happens. A tech picks them up, they get bagged, not labeled, and then they’re missing.”

  She stared at him. “I’ve seen the crime scene photos. They aren’t in them. No one touches the body, right?”

  He shrugged. “They’re not supposed to, but it happens. Let’s face it. This isn’t a novel or movie. This is real life. Accidents happen.”

  She wouldn’t give up.

  She’d heard that same line over and over. This wasn’t an accident, or a series of misfortunate events. This was her life, and someone was playing God.

  Lennox wanted to live.

  She was too young to die.

  “Continue,” Tori stated.

  “The second victim was Orwell Easton, my father. He died eight years ago.”

  “How?” Tori asked, making notes.

  “He was out in the woods hunting and someone shot him in the back of his head.”

  No one reacted.

  They’d had cases like this. A grieving widow came in, tried to get them to take the case, swearing her husband had met foul play. Nine times out of ten, it was accidental.

  “Honestly, Lennox,” Tori began.

  “Yeah, I know. You think it’s an accident.”

  Finally, Julian spoke, “I’m a hunter. It happens. Every year, you hear about someone being shot like that. How do you know it was murder? You have to give us something.”

  She pulled a photograph out of her folder.

  It was the only thing she had that might help her. Now she had to hope and pray that what she’d heard about the Littlemoons was right.

  She needed them.

  “This is the back of my father’s head,” she said, sliding it down the table toward them.

  Hart picked it up. Immediately, his eyes went big. “This is an official crime scene photo. How did you get this?”

  She stared into his silvery eyes. In them, she saw coldness. There was nothing but iciness there, and it appeared to be directed right at her. She hoped that she never became like that. This man was hardened by something.

  “I dated a deputy on the force. He helped me out.”

  Hart slid it down. “Great. Way to go, Nancy Drew,” he muttered.

  She stared at him. “No one will listen to me. I had to play Nancy Drew. I’m the next person to die. Wouldn’t you try to save yourself?”

  He would, but still…

  She likely had bodyguards, a protection detail, and an overactive imagination to get publicity. He knew what the rich girl mentality was like.

  Tori picked up the photo and stared at it.

  “Wait. This doesn’t add up.”

  That had Julian’s attention. “What do you mean?” he asked, checking out the gory headshot.

  “The entry wound is to the top of the head. How tall was your father?” she asked.

  “About as tall as Investigator Cranky here,” she stated, pointing at Hart, “so about six foot three?”

  He scowled even more at her nickname for him. Why it bugged him, he didn’t know. She was beginning to be a real pain in his ass.

  Tori and Julian both saw the issue.

  “He had to be on his knees. If someone shot at him through the trees, they’d have to be up high.”

  “Tree stand?” Hart offered.

  “State game lands don’t allow them,” she answered.

  “Maybe he took his life?” Justin offered.

  The woman looked over. “The exit wound was his face. When I viewed him at the morgue, he didn’t have one. Bullets go in small, and come out the back really big, right?”

  Justin was aware. He’d been a soldier. “Yeah, they do.”

  “I don’t see why no one believes me. I’m sane, I have an education, and I’m not some nut off the street. I’m trying to get anyone to listen to me. The local sheriff brushed me off. I’ve been asking him for a year to reopen these cases.”

  Tori knew why he wouldn’t. No one wanted a ten-year-old mystery, let alone a bunch of them. Plus, local offices were bogged down with fewer funds.

  It was normal.

  “We have to question everything,” Tori offered. “Don’t let it offend you. We bounce ideas around as a team, and this is simply part of our process.”

  “I’m not offended, but there’s no way this could be coincidence. One of my family members, yes, but we’re talking my whole damn family. I’m the last one standing on Easton Island, and I know I’m next.”

  Hart hated that she was starting to prove that she may be right about all of this.

  He didn’t want to help her.

  His gut was screaming. She was going to be trouble.

  “If you don’t believe me, let’s continue on, shall we?” she asked. “There was victim three, my uncle, Howell Easton.”

  “I’ve heard about this one,” Vivian stated. “He went missing in a private lake, didn’t he?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “At your home?”

  “Yes. He was swimming like he did every morning, and he never came back to the house.”

  “He was an Olympic swimmer, wasn’t he? I think it was all over the media for about two weeks.”

  “Yes, he was. So, see why that just seems totally wrong? My uncle, who swam in two Olympics, died swimming in a lake he grew up in, and his body has never been found.”

  Okay, that one was odd.

  This was looking more and more suspicious, and less like a coincidence. Lennox Easton might be on to something.

  “Oh, it gets better,” she stated, reading their faces. “Exactly two years later, you have victim four, my grandmother, Estella Easton. She was a champion horseback rider. She trained them, she rode them, and she lived for her horses. Four years ago, she went out for an early morning ride and didn’t come back. When the staff searched for her the next day, they found her horse. The next day, they found her—dead. Animals had begun eating her.”

  “Broken neck?” Tori asked.

  The woman nodded. “The coroner said she’d fallen off her horse and snapped her neck. Do you want to know how many times she’d fallen off that horse? Never. That horse was her favorite, and she was trotting him around the land. It was flat, and the horse was uninjured. Had he stumbled, he would have had swelling or a twisted ankle. He had neither.”

  Tori agreed with her there. She and Julian knew horses, and Lennox was right.

  “Do you have a picture?”

  She slid it toward her.

  Tori looked at the picture of the horse right after the incident. “What’s that?”

  “The horse had two slices across its front legs.”

  Julian lifted a brow. “Someone set up a cut wire to make the horse stop fast.”

  They all looked over.

  He explained. “It’s a way to take down the enemy. You string some wire between two trees. When the person comes charging at it, they lose their head. Literally.”

  “Why the horse?” Justin asked.

  “They wanted the rider off the horse’s back. The horse likely hit the wire, it hurt or startled him, and he stopped. If the horse wasn’t running, the cuts would be minimal.”

  Yeah, like the picture.

  Tori glanced over.

  He knew that look. She wanted this case.

  If not for a horse being hurt by some idiot, but simply because it reeked of mystery. His wife was predictable if anything.

  “Who was next?”

  Hart glanced over. “You can’t be serious about this, Tori. She’s an Easton. We’ve all heard about the power hungry crazies tied to the family.”

  Lennox went on the defense.

  “Yes, you may have heard of them, and you may have even heard of their issues, but I
’m not them,” she stated. “What I am is someone who is in fear for her life. My family is dead. I’m the only one standing. If you want every single penny that is now mine, it’s yours. I’ll give it away to charity right now. I don’t want to die. I want to live.”

  Tori glanced over at Hart. “We have to take this seriously. If she’s telling us the truth…”

  Hart made a suggestion. “We could call the police in her town and let them handle it.”

  She sighed.

  Lennox had been down this road.

  “I went to the local law. They said the same thing you just did. In fact, you were a cop, weren’t you? You reek of law enforcement with a bad attitude.”

  He stared at her. “Wait a minute!”

  “Gee. I was right. Shocking. How does it feel to be profiled, Mr. Ex-Cop?”

  Hart was sputtering, but before he could say anything more, Julian stopped them.

  “This isn’t the time or the place.”

  Hart shut up. He didn’t like it, but this wasn’t his rodeo. He was the employee, and the bosses picked their cases. If they wanted to help this crazy, more power to them.

  “Who was next?” Tori asked.

  “My brother, Cornell Easton, was the next to die. He was an asshole in life, partying, doing nothing but spending money, and boozing, but he was my brother.”

  “I’ve heard about him. He raced cars, didn’t he?” Tori stated, thinking back to the news headlines. “It wasn’t that long ago, right?”

  She nodded. “It was two years ago next week. Again, every two years, someone in my family dies.”

  “How did he pass away?” Julian asked. While his wife might recall it, he didn’t.

  “It was a car accident. He was driving home at night, and he ‘lost control’ around a corner.”

  No one said a word.

  They didn’t have to either. Lennox could tell what they were thinking.

  Again, she’d heard it all before.

  “His blood alcohol level was less than the legal limit. I’ve seen him hopped up on speed driving a racetrack. That corner wasn’t sharp enough for him to lose control.”

  They let her continue.

  “To add to that, there were paint traces on the vehicle that didn’t come from the tree he hit. Well, unless they started painting trees beneath the bark.”

 

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