Chasing Secrets

by Lynette Eason

  “What happened?”

  “We were out riding our bikes. I was eighteen and supposed to be watching out for him.” He gave a little shrug. “We grew up in a middle-class neighborhood with sidewalks that led out to the main road. We were riding down to the corner drugstore when a man lost control of his Suburban, going an estimated eighty-seven miles per hour, and crashed into my brother.” He took a deep breath. He’d seen it happen and couldn’t do a thing about it. “That man blew a .15 on the Breathalyzer.”

  “Drunk.”

  “Plastered. My brother had gone ahead of me, daring me to a race.”

  “Just a boy being a boy,” she whispered.

  “But I used to think it should have been me.”

  “You still do, don’t you?” she asked quietly.

  He grimaced. “Sometimes. If I think about it too long.” Which he made sure never to do.

  “And the driver walked away?”

  “With a broken wrist and twenty-five years in prison.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I am too.” He drew in a deep breath. “He’s up for parole.”

  “Are you going to fight it?”

  “With everything in me. He’s a murderer. He’s staying where he belongs.”

  Steven stopped talking, wondering why he’d confided that. It wasn’t that he kept it a secret, he just didn’t talk about it. Ever. But Richie’s death and Belinda’s getting shot wasn’t her fault and he wanted her to feel better. If talking about Michael would help, he’d do it. That fact alone was something he was going to have to do some serious thinking about. It meant he cared about her.

  “Why do you suppose God lets things like that happen?” Haley whispered.

  “That’s one question I don’t ask. I just have to focus on the fact that God is perfect and sovereign in every way. And that in the end, he will serve justice to those who deserve it. It’s my job just to believe that. And trust it.” He fell quiet a moment. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it, though.”

  He pulled into the parking lot of the teen center and pulled to a stop. With a glance around, Haley climbed from the Hummer and quickly made her way inside the glass doors. Steven walked in behind her and immediately his mood lightened. Teens were everywhere. Laughter, music, and sheer fun emanated from the place.

  “Haley! Haley’s here!” A young girl threw herself at Haley and was caught up in a hug.

  “Hey, Madison, how’s the dance routine coming?”

  “We are killing it. And guess what?”

  “What?”

  “Some rich dude that Donnalynn knows paid for us to leave a day early and come back two days late so we can tour New York and not just get there, perform, and leave. We’re leaving early Friday morning instead of Saturday!” She grabbed Haley’s hands and jumped up and down. “We get to see a play on Broadway! And go to the Statue of Liberty and see Times Square and . . . and . . . everything. And the school is letting us go and they got us a chartered bus to ride on that has a bathroom and every—”

  “Madison, girl, let Haley get a word in.” Michelle bustled over and gently took the girl by her shoulders and moved her out of the path. “She’ll get back to you in a minute. I’d like to have a word with her.”

  “Madison?” The blasting music had stopped and a woman peered around the edge of the door that was obviously the dance studio. “Where’d you go? Come on, honey, we need to run through the number again.”

  Haley gave Madison another hug. “I want to hear all about it, but I need to talk to Cupcake here, okay?”

  “Oh sure. You’re still coming with us, right? Even though we’re leaving early?”

  Haley hesitated. “I’m going to do my very best to be there.”

  Madison bit her lip, then a smile bloomed across her face. “You’ll be there. I know you will. I need to get back to practice. See ya. Coming, Donnalynn.” She darted away, her enthusiasm shimmering around her.

  “All right, baby girl, what’s wrong and who is this?” Michelle asked.

  Steven was impressed by her ability to read body language and pick up on tension. Haley looked up at him. “This is Detective Steven Rothwell. He’s . . . a friend. Steven, this is Michelle Cox, also known as Cupcake.”

  “Cupcake?”

  “She loves them. And she wants to die in a vat of frosting.”

  Steven raised a brow and looked at the woman. “You want to die in a vat of frosting? Why?”

  She patted his arm. “It’s a long story, darlin’.”

  He shrugged. “Not a bad way to go when you think about it.”

  “I agree.” She looked at Haley. “I like him. Now, what’s going on, hon?”

  “I need to talk to Zeke,” Haley said. “Is he in the gym?”

  “Zeke’s working his magic with the little ones. They love him. That boy’s got some mad basketball skills. Does he play with his high school?”

  “I’m not sure,” Haley murmured. “Might be a good thing to find out.” She drew in a deep breath. “Speaking of a long story, I just came from the hospital. Zeke’s mother was shot and is in critical condition. I came to take him to be there when she comes out of surgery.”

  Michelle gasped. “Oh no. I’ll gather the others and we’ll have a prayer for her. But you go get him now and take him over there.”

  “Thanks.”

  Haley truly didn’t know how he was going to take the news of his mother, but she knew she didn’t have a choice. She had to tell him.

  Zeke ran over to her, sweat glistening on his forehead, his shirt rimmed with wet around his neck. “What’s up? Is Micah okay?”

  “Micah’s all right for now. Zeke, your mother’s been shot and—”

  “Shot?” He stumbled and Steven grabbed his upper arm to steady him.

  “She’s still alive,” Haley hastened to reassure him, “she’s just in surgery. I came to get you—you’ll be there when she wakes up.”

  Zeke gripped his head with both hands and paced in a circle. “I don’t believe this.” He dropped his hands and spun to face her. “It was Richie, wasn’t it? He shot her, right?”

  “Yes.” She’d spare him the details for now. “Come on and we’ll take you to her.”

  “Thought you were going to keep her safe.”

  Haley winced. “I—”

  “It wasn’t Haley’s fault,” Steven said. “Richie had a hostage in the hallway. Your mother pushed around Haley to try and talk to him. The sniper got Richie and his gun went off, wounding your mother.”

  Of course Zeke would want to know who shot her. She sent Steven a grateful look.

  Zeke swallowed hard and looked at the floor. “I’m ready.”

  Haley stood with Zeke while Steven checked the Hummer before nodding. “All clear.” He held up her keys as she walked closer. “You want to drive?”

  “No, you can.”

  She climbed in the passenger seat, fastened her belt, and shut her eyes. A headache was forming behind her eyes, her side ached with a renewed fervor, and now she had to drop Zeke at his mother’s side and check on her grandfather. It was a fifteen-minute ride to the hospital. She rummaged in her purse and found the ibuprofen. She took two, then checked her phone. No messages. She sent a text to Maddy.

  Any news on my grandfather?

  Maddy

  Still the same

  came the immediate response.

  What about Zeke’s mother?

  I checked on her ten minutes ago. Still in surgery. Micah is sleeping and Duncan is fine.

  She told the guys the latest and heard Zeke sigh.

  Her hands were tied for now. There was nothing else she could do at the moment. Haley leaned back against the headrest. The only way to keep the headache from blooming into a full-blown migraine was to shut her eyes until it eased. “Are you watching the mirrors?” she murmured to Steven.

  “Yes.”

  “Is it okay if I close my eyes for the ride?”

  “Of course. I’ll be able to warn you i
f anything seems off. I’ve got you covered.”

  “Thanks.”

  She immediately slipped into a light doze, having trained her body years earlier to rest when she had to. Sometimes she could still do it. Sometimes not. Today she had no trouble doing so with Steven and Zeke’s soft conversation flowing around her.

  When the Hummer pulled to a stop, she opened her eyes and noted the time. He’d given her twenty-five minutes. She caught his gaze.

  He smiled. “I got Zeke’s permission. We called and his mom’s still in surgery and will be there for a while. He and I agreed that a few extra minutes wasn’t going to change anything.”

  True enough. “Thank you.” Haley had to admit she felt refreshed. Much to her relief, the headache was almost gone.

  He’d parked in the law enforcement spot close to the entrance. He climbed out of the Hummer while she scanned the area and saw nothing that worried her.

  She checked her mental to-do list: (1) Get Zeke to his mother’s side. Or at least in the waiting room. (2) Ask Maddy for another update on her grandfather. (3) Find Hugh McCort and get answers about the money in his son’s account. (4) Check on Duncan and see how he was feeling. (5) See if she might be one step closer to solving her own cold case.

  [20]

  Steven made sure Zeke was settled in the waiting room with Laila at his side. Her presence probably wasn’t needed, but he wanted to be sure before they pulled her off of him. An officer was still on Micah’s room, the crime scene cleanup crew still scrubbing up from the incident earlier. He checked in on Duncan and found the man sitting up in bed, looking much better than the last time he’d seen him. “Do you have a moment?”

  Duncan waved a hand to the chair and Steven took it. “All I have are moments right now. What do you know?”

  Steven decided he would fill the man in on what they’d learned about McCort. Christina had followed Haley to the post-op waiting room where he figured she would stay until her grandfather was out of surgery.

  “We’ve learned a few things,” Steven said.

  “What’s that?”

  He explained about the money.

  Duncan sat back with a wince. “Have you talked to McCort?”

  “No, getting ready to do that in a few minutes. Haley’s with him now, I believe.”

  “Will you talk to him, then come back and fill me in?”

  “Of course.”

  Steven left and went to find Haley. He found her just where she said she’d be.

  Sitting next to Hugh McCort. She caught his eye as his phone rang. He saw that it was his dad and answered the call. “Hi, Dad.”

  “Steven, is it a good time to talk?”

  “Uh . . .” He looked over at Haley and saw her talking to Hugh. “Sure, Dad. What’s up?”

  “I need to tell you something, but I don’t want you to tell your mother I told you.”

  Now his dad had his full attention. “All right. What is it?”

  “Walter Phillips is up for parole.”

  “I know. Mom already told me.”

  He heard his father sigh. “Did she tell you anything else?”

  “No. Like what?”

  “Like the fact that she supports his release.”

  Steven froze. Then finally found his tongue. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard you right. Could you repeat that?”

  “You heard me.”

  Steven found a chair away from the others and lowered himself onto it. Haley caught his eye and raised a brow, but Steven looked away. “How . . . why . . . what . . .” He stopped and pulled in a breath. “I don’t understand. Is she having some sort of mental breakdown?”

  His father laughed. Low and without humor. “No. When he was up for parole two years ago, the two of you fought hard to keep him behind bars.”

  “And we succeeded.”

  “Your mother has since had a change of heart.”

  Steven rubbed his eyes, his brain spinning. “She’s been visiting him, hasn’t she?”

  “Yes. Once a week.”

  “Why?”

  Haley whipped around to stare at him once more, and he realized he’d shouted the word.

  He turned his back. “Why?” he asked again, more controlled this time.

  “He asked . . . no begged . . . for her—our—forgiveness and she gave it.”

  “And what about you?”

  “I’m . . . still working on it.”

  Steven couldn’t believe it. He had to be in the throes of a nightmare. “Dad, he killed Michael.”

  “Son, he was a kid himself. Barely nineteen years old. Just a stupid kid,” he whispered. “Doing stupid stuff nineteen-year-olds do.”

  “No, not all nineteen-year-olds. I never did that. You never did that.”

  His father fell silent, then he cleared his throat. “Yes, that’s true. But . . . son, he made a horrible mistake. He went to prison at nineteen. He’s been there for twelve years. Should he have to pay for a mistake for the rest of his life?”

  Familiar rage rose up in him, clawing its way from his gut to his throat. Steven stood and paced to the window. He kept his voice low and even. “Killing Michael wasn’t a mistake, Dad, it was murder. And I’ll never forgive Walter Phillips as long as there’s breath in my body.” He wanted to hit something. No, he wanted to pound on Walter Phillips until the man was as bruised, bloody, and broken as his brother had been when Steven had raced to his side and held him, knowing it was too late for him to do anything. Too late for anyone to do anything.

  His father hadn’t responded to Steven’s heated vow.

  “I’ve got to go, Dad. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “All right, son. I understand.”

  He hung up and let his chin touch his chest as he gathered his anger and hate and tucked it back into the neat little box he’d kept it in for the past twelve years. Then he turned and walked over to slip into the chair beside Haley.

  “Are you all right?” she asked in a low whisper.

  “Yes.” He paused for a beat. “No.” Another pause. “It doesn’t matter.” He leaned forward and nodded to Hugh. “Any news?” he asked softly.

  “No.” Hugh shook his head and dropped his face into his hands.

  Haley stared at him a moment longer but didn’t push him. Steven was grateful for that. The waiting room held three other people. They sat on the opposite end, so their area was fairly private.

  “Hugh,” Haley said softly, “I need to ask you something.”

  The man looked up at her. “Of course.”

  “Did your son have anything to do with the murder of my family twenty-five years ago?”

  The old man paled. Alarmingly so. “Why would you ask me that?”

  “Because we’ve discovered a money trail that leads to him—and on to you,” Steven said.

  McCort shut his eyes. “Twenty-five years. I wondered when this moment would happen.”

  Steven saw Haley’s eyes widen and anger flash. But she drew in a breath and fell silent. He figured she was choosing her words.

  “So, he had something to do with their deaths?” she asked.

  “Indirectly.”

  “What did he do?”

  Hugh swallowed and looked away. Steven wanted to push him, but Haley sat statue still, just watching the man.

  Steven shot Haley a look, but she didn’t blink. Hugh met her eyes, then looked away again. “He never expected them to die.” His shoulders rose and fell. He met her gaze once more. “You have to believe me. He never knew what they had planned.”

  “Please explain,” Haley said, her voice soft. Lethal.

  “About two weeks before the attack, my son came to me. He was living in Dublin at the time, but drove to see me. He arrived about midnight and spent the night. The next morning he explained that he was heavy in debt to a bookie. Many thousands of pounds.”

  “The equivalent of twenty thousand dollars?”

  He blanched. “That’s the amount. I didn’t have it, of course. I had a n
ice little savings account, but not that much.” He paused as though gathering his thoughts. “My wife and I lived simple lives,” he finally said. “She stayed home with Connor, our son, when he was a wee one and never went back to work. She didn’t want to and I didn’t see any reason why she should. So, I gave Connor what I could and told him to tell them that he would get them the rest a little later. I was just trying to buy him some time. Buy me some time so I could figure out what to do, how to get the rest of the money.”

  “Were they satisfied with that?”

  Hugh let out a watery, humorless laugh. “Well, they didn’t kill him, but they broke his arm and his nose, a few ribs, and knocked out three teeth. He was in the hospital in Dublin for a few days, and during that time I got a phone call from him saying he needed my help.”

  “Help with what?”

  “He wanted me to leave the door open to the Burke castle because he had some friends who were going to rob the place. Just take enough jewelry or whatnot to pay off his debt. The Burkes had insurance, he argued, they had plenty of money and would never miss it. And he could pay me back what I’d already given him.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I refused. Flat-out refused. I loved my job, I loved that family. I’m an honorable man.” Tears clouded his eyes, but he blinked and he shook his head. “He screamed at me. He said they were going to kill him if I didn’t comply. He said they had someone at the hospital at that very moment ready to kill him. So I said I’d do it, but—”

  “But?”

  “But I couldn’t. Once my son was released from the hospital, I went to Dublin, picked him up, and took him home.”

  “And?” Haley asked.

  “And then I told him he needed to run. Run as far away as he possibly could and start over. I even offered to purchase him a plane ticket to anywhere he wanted to go.”

  “And he agreed?”

  “That he did. To my face. But apparently, they not only wiped his debt clean but paid him another $20K on his assurances that the door would be open.”

  “Then there was no turning back for him,” Haley murmured.