Cold Hearts

by Sharon Sala

  Dad.”

  * * *

  The silence in the vault was telling. The banker, Gregory Standish, was pale and shaking as he stared down at the rusty-looking tassel in disbelief.

  “So that’s not dirt on there,” he muttered.

  Trey pulled an evidence bag out of the inner pocket of his jacket, and bagged and tagged it in front of them, then pocketed the letter.

  “I need to get this to the state lab,” he said, patting the pocket where he’d put the letter. “I’ll make sure you get this back.”

  Mack shook his head. “I don’t want it. I know he loved me. That message was for you.”

  Trey glanced at his watch.

  “The serviceman is coming to the garage to look at the lift in about a half hour. I need to be there to let them in. Do you have the keys to the garage on you, Mack?”

  Mack nodded. “I’ll follow you there.”

  Trey pointed to the banker and his secretary.

  “Everything you heard in here is confidential because it’s directly connected to an ongoing murder investigation, so I don’t expect to hear any gossip around town, understand?”

  Standish and his secretary both nodded.

  Satisfied he’d done all that was needed, Trey headed out, leaving the others behind in the vault.

  Mack was shaken as he glanced over at the lawyer.

  “Mr. Emerson, I don’t suppose you need me anymore. The box has been opened and the contents recorded, right?”

  “Right. An inventory of the contents will be included in the papers when his estate goes into probate.”

  Mack nodded, then shook hands with the banker. “Thank you for your assistance and consideration.”

  Gregory Standish turned on the charm. “You’re entirely welcome, Mr. Jackson, and on behalf of all of us here at the bank, please accept our condolences on the loss of your father.”

  Mack left then, his mind already on the next facet of the investigation. If that lift was truly faulty, then there was no way to back up what his father had written, but if the lift was fine, the letter was added proof that his father had been murdered. He wasn’t sure how he felt because either way, his father was still dead.

  Mack saw Trey leaning against the hood of his cruiser and talking on the phone when he pulled up to the gas station. He walked past Trey and overheard just enough of the conversation to know that Trey was talking to his mother about having lunch with her later, and he guessed she was going to be the next person to be interviewed regarding what was happening. He didn’t envy Trey the job of having to interview his own mother. By the time he got to the station and unlocked the doors, Trey was right behind him.

  “What are you thinking?” Mack asked.

  Trey wasn’t in the habit of talking police business with a civilian, but this case was different.

  “My mom hasn’t been the same since finding Dick Phillips’ body. Now, since your dad left that letter, it leaves me wondering if maybe the murder triggered some blocked memories from that wreck for her, too. However, that’s all supposition until the lift is examined.”

  “Is Lissa Sherman’s car still on the lift?” Mack asked.

  Trey nodded. “Until I figure out if this is a crime scene or the scene of an accident, it’s still part of an ongoing case.”

  Mack turned around and jammed his hands in his pockets, wondering at the whimsy of fate that had thrown them back together again after all these years. The wind was chilly, and he hunched his shoulders, wishing he’d put on a heavier jacket before leaving the house. When he saw a long blue van pulling up to the stoplight down the street he shifted nervously from one foot to the other. The service company was here.

  “Hey, Trey, here they come,” he said, pointing.

  “Good. Maybe we’ll get a definitive answer soon.”

  After the van pulled up beside Mack’s SUV and parked, he recognized the two men who got out.

  The older man came straight toward him with his hand outstretched.

  “Mack, Junior and I were sure sorry to hear about what happened to your dad. He was a fine man.”

  “Thanks, Eldridge. This is Chief Jakes.”

  “Chief, this is Eldridge Warren and his son, Junior.”

  The men nodded at each other, Trey thanked them for coming and then led the way inside, explaining what he needed to know.

  “This is the same car that was on the lift. It went up fine when we removed the body, and then we let it down for safety’s sake. However, I need to know what caused the lift to fail.”

  “Yes, sir,” Eldridge said. He walked over to the control and pressed it. He looked surprised when the lift went up without a hitch. He pressed the control again, and the lift lowered without a bobble. He frowned. “I’ll need to get down into the trap to check everything out,” he said.

  “I’ll do it, Pop,” Junior Warren said, and then glanced at Trey. “He hurt his back a couple of months ago.”

  Mack raised the door in the floor that led down into the space beneath that held the equipment that powered the lift.

  “The light is just to your right as you go down,” Mack said.

  “Right,” Junior said, and they watched the lights come on as he descended.

  They heard him banging around, and then there was silence.

  Eldridge frowned. “What’s going on?” he yelled.

  “Nothing,” Junior said, then walked to the foot of the stairs and looked up at the three men staring down at him. “If the hydraulics had failed, there would be hydraulic fluid all over, but everything is dry.”

  “I’m gonna hit the control again. You watch the gauges for fluctuations,” Eldridge said. Then he shook his head. “No, I’m coming down to see for myself. You handle the control, Mack.”

  Mack got into position. “Yell when you’re ready,” he said, watching as Eldridge slowly descended.

  He heard father and son talking but couldn’t make out what they were saying, and then Eldridge yelled, “Now, Mack! Hit the control.”

  Mack’s heart was pounding as the car rose on the lift without issue.

  “Is it all the way up?” Eldridge called.

  “It’s up,” Trey said.

  “Now let it down,” Eldridge said.

  The lift went down as easily as it had gone up, and Mack’s heart began to pound. He glanced at the expression on Trey’s face but couldn’t get a read on what he was thinking, and then Trey turned toward him.

  “Do it again, up, then down.”

  Mack complied, and as it was going down, Junior and Eldridge climbed up, turned out the light below and lowered the door.

  “There isn’t anything wrong with that lift,” Eldridge said. “The pressure is perfect on every gauge, and the equipment is dry. If the lift was faulty, the hydraulic fluid would have leaked out all over everything.”

  Trey took off his hat and shoved a hand through his hair in frustration.

  “So you’re saying that the only way the lift could have come down on Paul Jackson was if someone hit the control?”

  Eldridge blinked. He hadn’t taken the thought to its logical conclusion. “Well, I guess...yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

  “Will you need anything more from us?” Junior asked.

  “No, and thank you for coming so promptly,” Trey said.

  “Just send the bill to the garage, as always,” Mack said. “I’ll make sure you get paid.”

  Eldridge shook his head.

  “No, there won’t be any charge on this trip,” he said gruffly. Then he walked out with his son behind him, leaving Mack and Trey alone. The silence between them was telling.

  Finally it was Mack who spoke, his voice rough with emotion. “Damn it, just say what we’re both thinking.”

  Trey turned his head and their gazes locked. “Your father’s death is going to be ruled a homicide.”

  Mack grunted, then looked down at the floor. The bloodstains were still there, trailing out from beneath Lissa’s car.

  �
��Is this going to be public knowledge?” he asked.

  “As of this moment, yes. Why?”

  Mack shrugged. “Lissa blamed herself, so when school is out today I’m going to tell her what happened. It should relieve her conscience.”

  Trey picked up on the tension between them and vaguely remembered that they’d dated years back. He thought of the message Paul Jackson had sent to his son about renewing the relationship and decided to give him a little help.

  “Feel free to give her the news,” Trey said. “I’ve got to go talk to my mom. Her life is in danger. Meanwhile, this is officially a murder scene. We need to lock the place back up.”

  Mack followed Trey out and locked the door, then turned around and gazed at the scene before him. Mystic was home, and home had suddenly taken on a very dark visage.

  * * *

  It was midmorning and Lissa was wiping tears and snot off six-year-old Jolie Wade’s face while giving Roger Lee Westfall her best serious expression.

  Roger Lee was looking nervous. He didn’t know exactly what he’d done wrong. All he’d done was tell the truth after Jolie went and told Aaron that Roger Lee was her boyfriend. He’d told Aaron she wasn’t, and now Jolie was crying and he couldn’t tell for sure if Miss Sherman was mad at him or not. Having two people upset at him would be daunting, especially when he didn’t know why.

  Lissa wanted to laugh, but of course she couldn’t. Little Miss Jolie was going to break a thousand hearts before she grew up and found her man, but it appeared Roger Lee wasn’t going to be the first to fall. She admired the little guy for his honesty, and for not being swayed by blond hair and blue eyes.

  Meanwhile, Jolie was a six-year-old wreck. She had already decided she wasn’t going to like that Roger Lee ever again, but she didn’t have the skills to gracefully end the fit she was throwing.

  Lissa handed Jolie a handful of tissues. “Go wash your face and blow your nose, then hurry back. It’s almost time for snack.”

  Jolie took the tissues and walked out of the room with her jaw set.

  Lissa motioned for the little boy to come to her desk. He approached reluctantly, his voice shaking and his eyes welling with tears,

  “Am I in trouble, Miss Sherman?”

  “Do you think you should be in trouble?” she asked.

  Roger Lee shook his head. “No, ma’am.”

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “’Cause I told the truth. Jolie isn’t my girlfriend. I don’t like girls all that much.”

  Lissa offered him a handful of tissues, too.

  “Then, that’s that,” she said. “And no more talk of boyfriends and girlfriends in my class. We have important things to learn, right?”

  He took the tissues, and before she could stop him, he blew his nose, then wiped his eyes.

  Lissa stifled a groan. “Next time wipe your eyes first and then blow your nose.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Roger Lee said, handing her the tissues and going back to his chair.

  Lissa looked down at the snotty tissues, rolled her eyes as she dropped them in the trash and pumped a squirt of hand sanitizer into her palm.

  She was handing out fruit snacks when Jolie came back into the room and sat down in her chair with a dramatic thump. Her eyelashes were still wet with tears as she shoved the half banana aside and tore into her little box of raisins. By the time she’d had her first bite, she was already trying to trade her banana for the raisins belonging to the girl beside her. It was obvious Jolie’s stronger personality was about to win out, and Lissa promptly stepped in.

  “Jolie, we’re not trading snacks today,” Lissa said.

  “But I don’t like nanners,” Jolie shrieked.

  “Then, you don’t have to eat it. When you finish your raisins, you may go sit in the reading circle.”

  “Then, I won’t have two snacks!” Jolie yelled, ready to cry again because her world was momentarily out of orbit.

  “Use your inside voice, please,” Lissa said calmly as she continued passing out snacks.

  Jolie scooted her chair back and forth just enough to make the wooden legs squeak against the tile flooring, but to Lissa’s relief, she stopped without further orders.

  Lissa understood Jolie’s need to be pissed. She knew all too well how it felt to be rejected, but this was unacceptable behavior in her classroom.

  When snack was over, they cleared their tables and hurried over to the reading circle.

  Lissa eyed Jolie, who was now orchestrating who she wanted to sit with, and then glanced over at Roger Lee. He didn’t appear to care where he sat as long as it wasn’t by Jolie Wade.

  This was the first time in her teaching career that she’d had a child as boy crazy as the little blonde. It wasn’t until after school when she was relating the drama to some of her fellow teachers that she found out why.

  “Oh, I can tell you exactly why Jolie is boy crazy,” Margaret Lewis said. “She has two teenage sisters. It’s probably all she hears.”

  Lissa chuckled. “Ah...that explains everything.”

  Margaret began gathering up her things. “Need a ride home this evening?”

  “No, I rented a car, but thanks for the offer,” Lissa said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She left the teachers’ lounge, headed for the exit and waved at Louis, who was emptying trash cans.

  “Have a nice evening, Louis.”

  “Yes, ma’am, you, too,” he said absently, as he rolled the trash bin toward the next room.

  The sun was out, but it didn’t feel all that warm. The north wind was fairly stiff and had a chill to it, a reminder that winter would be here all too soon.

  Lissa hurried to the car and got in, grateful to be out of that wind, then noticed the grocery list she’d left in the console this morning so she wouldn’t forget to go by the supermarket after school. As badly as she wanted to get home, this had to be done first.

  She drove to the supermarket and parked, then grabbed the list as she exited the car. Her mind was already on the job ahead when she heard someone calling her name and turned around.

  Well, great. Jessica. My nemesis in high school wants to continue her reign.

  “Lissa! Oh, my dear!” Jessica York cried as she threw her arms around Lissa’s neck. “I heard about what happened at the garage. How awful! Was it really your car that killed Mr. Jackson?”

  Lissa blinked, felt the blood rushing to her head as she unwound herself from Jessica’s grasp and headed back to her car.

  Jessica kept calling out behind her, “What’s wrong? Where are you going? Was it something I said?”

  Lissa laid the grocery list in the cup holder and started the car. She wouldn’t look at the bitch for fear the woman would be smiling. If she was, then she would have to get back out of the car and whip her ass, and that might get her fired. A teacher’s morals and behavior had to be above reproach.

  So she wouldn’t have cream in her coffee and she wouldn’t eat cereal tomorrow morning, she thought as she drove to the exit. It wasn’t the end of the world.

  The light turned green.

  She drove through the intersection, suddenly anxious to get home. And then she thought of the stalker and her heart skipped a beat. Would he be back again, now that she’d called the police? The peace she’d found during the day with her students was coming undone.

  Why is this happening? What did I do wrong? Dear God, what did I do wrong?

  By the time she pulled into the driveway and parked, she was once again in tears. She was getting her things out of the passenger seat when she heard the sound of a car slowing down. She turned around just as Mack pulled into her driveway and parked behind her. She knew there were tears on her face, but her hands were full, and right now she didn’t much care what he thought.

  * * *

  Mack had been dreading this moment for a lot of reasons, but none of them had involved seeing those tears—at least not at first. The frightening thing was the urge he felt to hurt whoever had m
ade her cry.

  “I see I’ve come at a bad time. I should have called.”

  Lissa rolled her eyes and headed for the door. He could follow or he could leave. Either way, she didn’t much care.

  Her silence took Mack aback, and then he hurried forward and followed her up the steps. When she began fumbling with the key he took it from her trembling fingers and let her in, then stood aside.

  Lissa walked past him, dumped the stuff she was carrying on the sofa and then turned around.

  “What do you want, Mack?”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  That seemed like the last thing she wanted to endure.

  “I don’t much want to talk to you,” she said. Then she shrugged. “I’m sure you understand.”

  He wasn’t going to pretend that didn’t hurt, but she needed to know about the lift, so he crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him.

  Lissa rolled her eyes. “Oh, well! Do come in.”

  Mack felt raw enough without getting into a fight and began to explain.