Shiloh looked at Gemma, eyebrows raised. “Spoiler alert—turned out she had a reason for the calls. They weren’t about nothing after all. Now that I know that, she’s actually kind of an interesting woman.”
“She’s not boring, that’s for sure.” The last time Matt had seen her, she’d asked him why he wasn’t married yet and then started in with a list of her friends’ granddaughters that she should set him up with.
“I haven’t spoken to her yet since I’ve been back.” Her look changed a little. Matt could only describe it as a “work face.” She looked pensive and creative at the same time, as if the question had triggered an idea for her. “I should put her down on my list of people to talk to about the museum. I want to talk to some of the residents of the town, even ones who don’t have much involvement with the historical society, to see what their vision of this place is. I think if I do that, I’ll be better able to market it to them as something they’ll be interested in. I’m most concerned with making the town fall in love with the idea of this museum. If the town loves it, visitors will, too.”
“You think so?” Gemma talked about the museum as though it was a viable project. Matt had been assuming that it wouldn’t draw much interest.
She looked offended at his skepticism. “Of course. In order for anything to succeed, people have to believe in it.”
“She’s not wrong, Matt,” Shiloh seconded.
Another car approached the office building, and Gemma frowned. “And it’s true for people, too,” Gemma added. A man exited the car. Matt recognized him as one of the head honchos of the historical society. Gemma swallowed hard and said the next words so softly he almost didn’t hear them. “And then sometimes, people have to do the best they can whether anyone else believes in them or not.”
* * *
Gemma excused herself from Shiloh and Matt and went to meet Jim Howard.
“Good morning, Gemma.” Jim was paler than he had been yesterday. Or maybe it was the morning light.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“It’s this...this...discovery.” He shook his head. Swallowed hard. He glanced at Shiloh and Matt, both in uniform. “But let’s talk inside.”
This sounded bad.
She followed him up the stairs, shivering only slightly as they entered the building where she’d almost died less than twelve hours before. Matt had explained to her that the police and fire department had cleared the building and repaired the leak, so it was safe to be inside. They hadn’t found any evidence of the leak being intentional, though. Gemma didn’t understand how it was possible—she knew what had happened—but she believed their assessment that it wasn’t dangerous anymore. Still, it was hard to convince her feet to follow Jim’s up the stairs.
“Mr. Howard, before you start—” Gemma started talking as soon as they were inside, before he’d managed to shut the door behind them “—thank you for giving me a chance. I know that some...some of the others didn’t want to and I appreciate that you did.”
“Yes, well, don’t thank me yet. What did we decide? Two weeks?”
Two weeks. Hardly enough time to prove anything to them, much less to the rest of the town. Gemma nodded.
“All right, then, do the best you can. I have to tell you, though, after the discovery yesterday I don’t have very high hopes for the museum’s success.”
That was probably the last thing she’d expected to hear him say. Gemma blinked a few times, tried to process his words and wished she’d stopped by her sister’s shop that morning for coffee. “You’ve given up on it already?” She didn’t bother to filter her words and make them sound polite—not if he was admitting such dire hopes for this project before she’d even been given a chance. Gemma couldn’t decide which one she was more offended for—herself, or for this house and future museum that deserved a chance. The Hamilton House had always been a grand structure that reminded the people of Treasure Point of the past, both good and bad, and it was part of what made them special. Sure, other towns around had their historical claims to fame. Savannah was less than an hour away and had history coming out of its ears, but the Hamilton House had links to so many different time periods that it was still unique. Even though the original house had burned down, there was still something special about a replica of it being rebuilt on almost the same spot for the museum. It was almost like the grand old house could have a new lease on life...if they’d let it.
“I haven’t...given up...” His words came too late, too slowly. Gemma was already shaking her head.
“This isn’t fair.”
This time it was his turn to blink back surprise. “What do you mean? Fair?”
“You hired me to take care of the marketing and publicity for the museum. I understand the discovery of the body...changed some things.” Shivers crept over her arms. She definitely understood all that the body changed. “But the museum is still a viable project and I’m not going to pour my life into it for the next two weeks if you’ve already closed it down and packed up shop in your mind. I won’t do it.” Gemma shook her head, opened her mouth one more time as words she hadn’t even realized she meant spilled out. “I care too much.”
She shivered again, this time not from fear. She did. She cared about this museum, about this town.
It wasn’t just about proving herself. She wouldn’t, couldn’t let the town down.
“All right, then... I suppose you do deserve a real chance.” Jim’s shoulders fell a little. “I want the museum to succeed. I just don’t see how we can overcome something like this, get people to think about the museum without thinking about that.” He motioned out the window to the crime scene.
She knew what he meant. Knew it all too well.
He didn’t spend any more time in the office building, just left after pointing out a few things to her that she’d already discovered the night before—the location of the computer, the files, et cetera. Then she was alone.
Gemma let herself look around, absorb that she was really back here, for the first time since she’d walked back in. She could almost feel the heaviness in the air inside the building, weighty with the knowledge that someone had almost died here. That she had almost died here.
She swallowed hard. She had to get out of here.
Gemma ran to the door, shoved it open, almost expecting to be trapped again. Of course it flung open without a problem.
Matt looked up from where he’d been kneeling with Shiloh and someone else, working to exhume the remains. Gemma looked away, hesitated for a minute, then walked back inside, propping the door open with a portable file box. She was a grown woman. She should be able to sit inside a little building without incident.
“Knock, knock.” Matt’s familiar voice came from the doorway.
Seeing Matt lean into the room, blond hair messy from the morning breeze, wasn’t an unwelcome sight.
Clearly her mind was still fuzzy from the early morning and yesterday’s late night, if she was suddenly thinking it was okay to think of Matt O’Dell that way. He was the last man in the world, just about, that was appropriate to be seeing in that way. Surely he’d think the same about her.
“Hey,” she answered quietly, attempting a small smile.
“Are you busy? I thought I’d see if you wanted to take a walk.”
Was she busy? Well, since it seemed saving the museum rested solely on her shoulders...
Matt laughed, Gemma guessed at her expression. “I know you’re busy. I meant, are you doing anything specifically or do you want a tour? I figured you should see the whole place before you come up with plans for whatever you’re supposed to be doing. I didn’t notice you seeing everything the other day before the body was discovered, and I know you didn’t stick around long after, so...”
“That would be great.” He was right. She needed to see all of the property near the house again, refresh her memory, not just for the museum’s sake, but so she could help the police with this case if she needed to. Just because they hadn
’t needed that part of her testimony years ago didn’t mean they wouldn’t need it now. She’d rather walk around with Matt and dredge up those memories than do it by herself.
Not that she was eager to revisit those memories. She shivered, tried to rub the goose bumps off her arms before Matt noticed.
“Cold?” He raised his eyebrows. “I’ve got an old department windbreaker in my car if you need something.”
“No, really, I’m okay.” Of course, in trying to avoid eye contact with Matt, she accidently looked in the direction of the crime scene again, and shivered again. Matt jogged to his car, retrieved the jacket and returned. Gemma thanked him and slid her arms into the sleeves, reminding her skittering heart that this wasn’t high school, wearing his jacket didn’t mean anything and he was just being chivalrous—Southern, really—to make sure she wasn’t cold.
“Ready now?”
She could only answer yes. Gemma had run out of reasons to delay this walk. So she nodded slowly, followed Matt as he started off down a path that she knew from experience would lead them from the clearing into a thick forest, dense with live oaks and Spanish moss whose shadows choked out the sunlight.
No, she wasn’t ready. She never would be.
But someone was out there, someone who knew what she’d seen, and they wanted her dead. Sometimes people had to do things they weren’t ready for.
So Gemma took a deep breath and stepped farther into the dark woods. Out of the light.
And back into the place that haunted her very worst dreams.
SIX
If Matt had thought Gemma was tense back at the construction site, he knew now that had only been a shadow of the tension that could overtake her. A glance at the tightness in her shoulders told him that this walk was costing her.
So why had she said yes?
He already knew the answer. It was the kind of person Gemma was—a quiet but implacable kind of stubborn. Now that she was back in Treasure Point and the case was no longer part of her past...she wouldn’t disappear again. She’d follow through, finish this thing out, no matter what it cost.
Something that made him admire her and be terrified for her.
He turned to make sure she was still following him. Their eyes met and she gave him the smallest smile.
That kind of bravery may not look like much to most people. But Matt thought it was...
Beautiful. Like Gemma.
He shook his head, hopefully dislodging the thoughts. This was worse than the time in high school PE that he’d let a volleyball slam straight into the side of his face because he’d gotten distracted watching Gemma. Something about the woman had always turned him into mush.
Something he couldn’t afford at the moment, not if he wanted to do the best he could at his job. Keep his job out of Lieutenant Davies’s greedy hands.
Gemma’s hand on his arm brought Matt’s thoughts just as quickly back to her. She pulled him to a stop, turned him to face her.
“Wait.” Her brown eyes searched his, desperate for something. Matt swallowed hard.
He wasn’t moving, was he?
“We need to talk.”
Matt nodded slowly. The case? Please let it be about the case, not about this chemistry, tension, whatever it was between them that made being alone in the dim woods with her about the dumbest place he could be. He wasn’t sure he could trust himself not to act out the desire to kiss her that he’d constantly fought—and buried—years ago. “Okay.”
“I don’t know where to start. On this case, I mean. I tried last night, when I was in the office. I was looking for records, anything that would help. But I’m a marketing specialist. I don’t know where to start on this in real life, since my investigation experience is limited to late-night viewings of NCIS. I’ve got the memories...but you’ve got the experience with cases like this. So tell me. What next? What are we doing?”
It was the case she wanted to discuss. He exhaled, relief invading him. Somehow he knew kissing Gemma right now would ruin everything between them—destroy their new friendship, as cheesy as that sounded—and that was the last thing he wanted.
Well, second-to-last thing. The last thing he wanted was for both of them to end up dead because they’d let their personal feelings distract them from the investigation.
“Well...” Matt looked around. It seemed like an odd place for strategizing. Gut instinct said this stretch of woods had too many places to hide, too many places where someone could be listening.
So he shook his head. “Come with me. I don’t want to talk right here.”
Her eyes widened, fear flashing in their dark depths as understanding hit. She nodded. “Let’s go.”
This time he reached for her hand. He didn’t mean anything by it, just wanted to reassure her that he was here, that he wasn’t going to let anything happen to her.
But when she squeezed back and smiled...
Matt picked up his pace, and had to let go of Gemma’s hand when the trees got too thick for the two of them to pass on the path together. Finally the trees started to become more spaced out, the woods opened up to a private stretch of beach at the back of the Hamilton property.
Gemma frowned. “I thought we were looking around the property. This is the beach.”
“It’s Hamilton House Beach. You’ve never been here, have you?” He was pretty sure she hadn’t. This had been his thinking spot in high school. He’d have noticed if anyone else had trespassed on the Hamilton property and hung out back here.
Gemma ducked her head. Looked away.
“You mean...”
“It was the only slightly illegal thing I ever did. Besides, I asked Mary Hamilton for permission after the first couple of times, so technically, I wasn’t trespassing after that.”
“I just can’t believe I never saw you down here.”
“I was pretty good at hiding.” She smiled. “I saw you, though.”
Matt didn’t know how to react to that. He’d cried down here more than once, cried that his mom had left them, that his dad has spiraled so far down that he hadn’t known how to help himself, much less the son he’d been left to take care of.
She didn’t say anything about any of it. But he knew when he met her eyes that she knew.
“I prayed for you. Back then.”
There was nothing to say to that. He nodded, then walked away.
When he came back, he took a deep breath, turned his mind back to the case. “You wanted to know what’s next.”
“Yeah, I do. I’ve never been good at being on the defensive. Either I run away and forget this ever happened, or I want to do something about it. Be proactive.”
He could see why she’d be good at marketing. Once she put her mind to something she was a go-getter. Someone who would do whatever it took to make sure the job got done.
“The first thing we should do is look back at that first case.”
Exactly what neither one of them wanted to do. But there was no getting around it. It was still too soon to know for sure if Gemma was right about the body’s identity, though Matt was hoping Shiloh and the forensic specialist from Savannah would be successful in exhuming him today. If so, they could learn something on that front soon. And if Gemma was right, then the case was tied to her past. To their pasts.
“That sounds so simple, but how are we supposed to do that? You’re just going to walk into the police department, walk out with that file, and no one is going to think that’s odd? I want to keep it quiet that I know anything about that body. Maybe a few of the officers who were around back then will make the connection, and I can’t do anything about that, but I don’t want to spread this around. Not now, when I’m trying so hard to be someone besides the girl who saw a crime being committed.”
“I can do it without people asking questions. Trust me, no one notices half of what I do.”
“And once you get the file, we’ll look at it together? You’re going to share information with me?”
“I’m going to d
o what we need to do to solve this case.”
She nodded. “And then?”
“And then we’ll have to take that as it comes.” A breeze rustled through the trees, unexpected on a day that had been mostly calm. Matt saw Gemma jump, noticed the tension clench back into her shoulders. “And, Gemma?” He hated being the one to say what he was going to say, but someone had to. “Please don’t let your guard down. We’re taking this a step at a time, because at any second our status quo could change. This guy is after you. He could take a shot at you, try to kill you somehow, in the next minute. Or tomorrow. Or when we’re least expecting it.”
Gemma said nothing, just nodded slowly and looked off into the expanse of ocean in front of them without saying a word.
* * *
Being at the beach with Matt had messed with her emotions more than she’d expected. Telling him she’d prayed for him... Those had been some of the most heartfelt prayers of her life. She’d really believed that God would step in, give Matt a happier family to grow up in.
Instead, his dad had gone to jail.
Sent there by the very girl who had prayed for better for Matt. Her faith hadn’t known how to respond to that. It hadn’t been long afterward that she’d left Treasure Point. At the same time, she’d also left the church.
Neither one of them said much on the walk back from the beach toward the house. What was there to say? Their history ran too deep for words, too deep to pretend like every step on that beach, through these woods, didn’t bring up nightmares for both of them.
Matt finally broke the silence when they neared the construction site. His voice wasn’t the quiet, contemplative tone he’d had on the beach. It was the in-charge-police-officer voice she’d noticed he used when he was working.
“Have you seen the old barn?”
“The one near the old house that they used as a garage?”
Matt shook his head. “This is an old barn, really just pieces of rotting wood now.” He pointed out the spot. “You’d think as old as it is, it would have seen some interesting events. I don’t know any stories about it, but you could ask Shiloh, or Mary Hamilton. Chances are that either of them would know.”
Cold Case Witness Page 6
