Cold Case Witness

by Sarah Varland

  “Shiloh?” Gemma didn’t see why the crime scene investigator would know anything about the property. Especially since she was relatively new to town—she hadn’t been there when Gemma graduated high school anyway.

  “She was a history professor before she moved here, believe it or not. I know she’s looked into some of the history around this area—some for a case she was involved in and some just for fun.”

  Gemma made a mental note to talk to Shiloh sometime...maybe. She’d be a useful resource, sure, but Gemma still wasn’t sure how their meeting this morning had gone. And hadn’t Matt said the other night that Shiloh was one of the ones who doubted her story of being attacked the other night? The last thing she needed this time around with this case was to surround herself with people who doubted her.

  “Thanks for letting me know.”

  “If we turned right here, we’d go deeper into the woods, where a network of trails—”

  “I know. I’ve been on them.”

  The change in her tone must have caught his attention, because he turned to look at her, curiosity raising his eyebrows. “Is that where...?”

  Gemma nodded.

  “Oh. I never knew exactly.”

  Awkward silence settled around them for a few seconds. Then finally, Gemma took a deep breath and turned right. “Let’s go, then.”

  “I thought you’d want to avoid it.”

  She met his eyes, only for a second, but long enough. “You deserve to see it if you want to. And maybe seeing it will help me remember that it’s just a place. Nothing that has power over me anymore. Besides, it might jar loose some memories, help us with this case.”

  Without waiting for his response, Gemma started off down that trail, reminding herself that it was a piece of land. Nothing more. She felt her steps slowing a bit as she approached.

  “You okay?” Matt’s voice behind her startled her at first—she’d begun to slip into memories—but once she recovered she appreciated the reminder that she wasn’t alone.

  “Getting there.” Right now and as a whole. She was going to be okay with this part of her past—eventually.

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket but she ignored it, turned to Matt. “Does seeing it change anything for you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know.” And she didn’t. She’d just wanted to know how he felt. Maybe it was their pasts being so oddly linked, or being here alone in the woods, but she felt as though despite their obvious differences in background, they understood each other. Except right now she couldn’t put herself in his position, couldn’t picture how seeing this spot would make him feel, since this was where his father had been arrested.

  Instead, all of Gemma’s emotions swirled around her own memories. The fight she’d witnessed not far from here. The words yelled after her as she’d hurried through the woods to escape, making more noise than she’d wanted to. Shouted promises that if she told anyone what she’d witnessed, she’d end up dead.

  She’d told the authorities anyway, had wanted to do the right thing—but no one had believed her. So she’d pushed the words from her mind for ten years, only struggling against them in the middle of a dark sleepless night here and there, when they liked to plague her. Now, of course, she could hear them again, the knowledge that there had been teeth behind the words making her all the more terrified. They hadn’t been empty threats. The man who’d said them was willing to kill. Had already killed. Wouldn’t hold back from killing again. She had a lingering headache today from last night’s events that would remind her.

  As though she needed reminding.

  “What about you?” Matt walked toward her, feet crunching on the overgrowth.

  “I feel...” She wasn’t sure she had the words, but her heartbeat pounded harder, faster, at the idea of finding words to explain to Matt what she’d never been able to articulate to anyone, not even her family. “Sad. I feel like...” Like she’d lost part of her identity there, which was silly, really, since nothing so awful had happened to her on this spot. A man had lost his life and all she had suffered was a sprained ankle. But when she’d run, when she’d returned to town, she hadn’t been the same Gemma Phillips that had left. No one would think of her from then on as a pretty girl, a good student, someone who loved literature more than math, who played the flute in the marching band.

  From then on, she’d been Gemma, the Witness to a Crime.

  And to much of the town, that was all she could ever be.

  “Feel like what?” Matt asked, his voice betraying the depth of his curiosity for her to finish her sentence.

  She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, even though they both knew it did. “I feel as if I left here a different person, or at least everyone assumed I was different.”

  “I don’t know if I ever thought that.” He met her eyes. “I never saw you any differently.”

  Something in the way he studied her made her breath catch. Did he really mean that? When he looked at her, did he see her, not just what she’d gone through?

  Gemma wasn’t ready to deal with that. She looked away from him, searching her mind for an excuse to busy herself doing...anything besides talking to him anymore. Because no matter how little sense it made, no matter how much Treasure Point was the last place she’d look for a man to start a relationship with—and Matt O’Dell the very last man she’d expect to be interested in—she was afraid if she stood here face-to-face with him for any longer, she’d spill all her secrets, show him her whole heart. Then want him to share his.

  Then she remembered. Her phone had buzzed earlier. Relief relaxed her shoulders. She shoved her hand into her pocket. Text message.

  I see you remember where you found us. Then you also remember that I warned you about what would happen if you told anyone what you saw. I haven’t forgotten. And I keep my promises.

  Gemma swallowed hard. Read the first line again: “...you remember where you found us.”

  He saw them here?

  Now?

  “He’s watching,” she whispered, grabbing Matt’s arm. Her eyes searched around her. To the right, and then she circled around all the way, scanning the greens and browns of the trees and the forest. She couldn’t see anything that looked unusual. But she’d grown up in the South; she knew how camouflage worked. With good camo and some cover, he could be mere yards away and they’d never see him...

  Would he shoot her here, in broad daylight? Or would he try again to make attempted murder look like an accident—like he had last night in the office?

  “Wait, Gemma, why?”

  “I’ll tell you later. Let’s go.”

  This time she didn’t wait for his response, just took off running down a trail through the woods, heaviness settling over her soul, chased by the knowledge that being here had changed her again.

  And not for the better.

  SEVEN

  Gemma refused to say a single word until they’d been in his car for at least five minutes. The farther they got from the Hamilton Estate, the more she seemed to relax, but when Matt glanced at her now and then he could see that she was biting her lip as she watched the country pass by through the window. Her expression was a mix between a frown and something else—contemplation?

  He’d give his last dollar to climb into her mind right now and know what she was thinking.

  “Are you going to talk to me, Gemma?”

  She started, as if she’d forgotten he was there, then shifted slowly in the seat to face him. “He sent me another message.”

  The rush of anger and frustration toward this mystery man was so strong that Matt could have hit the steering wheel, but after years of learning to control his temper lest he end up like his father, he took a breath and exhaled long and slowly instead. “When? Wait, when we were in the woods?”

  She nodded.

  That explained at least part of her behavior—the sudden running and the whispers about someone watching them.

  It still didn’t explain
why she’d pulled away before she’d gotten the phone out. Her withdrawal had been as obvious to him as her literal running. Their conversation had scared her somehow. Because of something he’d said? Or because they were having it in the first place, the two of them?

  “What did it say?” Matt tried to keep his voice level, hoped that him maintaining some sense of calm would help her be calmer. It was worth a try.

  “He saw us. He said he saw us and reminded me that he’s going to kill me.” She shook her head, looked away again. “He promised me he would a decade ago, if I talked. And I did, I did it anyway. And now...”

  “You’re not going to die.” He contradicted her conclusion before she had the chance to say anything Matt didn’t want to hear. “And I think you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

  “Brave?”

  “You’ve been called that before, surely. When you testified?”

  She shook her head slowly. “No. I don’t think anyone said that. No one seemed to appreciate it at all.”

  Which didn’t make sense. She’d helped the town be a safer place. Because of her, stolen goods had been returned to the rightful owners and criminals had been locked away before they could cause any more harm in and near their town.

  Oh. But she’d shattered the illusion for too many residents. She’d been a visible reminder that things like that did happen in Treasure Point. That they happened everywhere because the world wasn’t perfect and people were greedy.

  That. That was why people treated her differently.

  “I’m sorry, Gemma.”

  She shrugged.

  “Let me take you home for now. I’m going to call Clay, get him to hang out near your house to make sure you’re safe while I finish out my shift.”

  “You’re not done?”

  “I’m working a little overtime tonight. I need to go into the police station to report the text message you just received and see if they discovered anything new about the body.”

  Gemma nodded. “Okay.”

  “Unless you want to come with me.”

  She shook her head. “The police department is the last place I want to be right now, but thanks. I’ll be okay as long as you’re sure Clay will be close by, watching.”

  “He will be. I’ll be back home in an hour, two tops. Meet me back over there in two hours and let’s talk about the case a little bit more. Hopefully I’ll have more to share then.”

  Matt pulled into her driveway. “Let’s go in. I’ll check the house and then wait while Clay gets here.” He punched the screen on his phone. Clay picked up quickly.

  “It’s Matt. Can you come to Claire and Gemma’s house, maybe sit nearby in your car and keep an eye on things while I finish up at work?”

  “Sure. I’ll be right there.”

  No questions asked. That was a friend. Matt may not have too many of them, but the ones he had were genuine, the hard-to-find level of good.

  Once Clay was there, Matt climbed back in his car and drove toward the Treasure Point Police Department. He still had the feeling that Gemma had more information about the case that could help him, but he wasn’t sure exactly what it was.

  “Anything new on the body?” he asked when he walked in. They’d managed to pry it from the Georgia clay late that afternoon and the ME had been ready to take it away.

  Shiloh looked up from where she was making case notes at a table. She nodded in the direction of the chief’s office. “Davies and the chief are talking to the ME now.”

  And as long as this was his case, Matt was going to be talking to him, too. He knocked on the chief’s closed office door—something he couldn’t remember doing before.

  “Come in.”

  Like Shiloh had said, his two superiors were in there with Dr. Kevin Downs, the ME from Brunswick. Matt addressed his question to the chief. “Anything new on the body, sir?”

  He nodded. “You should be here for this anyway. I thought Lieutenant Davies would have notified you.” He glanced at the other officer.

  Davies looked a bit chagrined. “I should have tracked him down, sir. I apologize.”

  “This is his case, Lieutenant. Don’t let a slipup like this happen again.”

  “I won’t, sir.”

  “As I was saying...” Dr. Downs cleared his throat. “The decomposition of the body indicates that it’s been buried at least five years. The body itself was down to just bones, with a few scant scraps of fabric from clothes that hadn’t finished decomposing. I’m going to take the remains to Brunswick, get started on finding out what I can. Today I wanted to know if there’s anywhere you want to start looking to identify the body. As far as things like dental records go, it’s quicker if you already have an idea of who the deceased might be.”

  Lieutenant Davies shook his head.

  “Check the body against the records for Harris Walker,” Matt spoke up.

  “Walker?” The chief’s eyes narrowed. “Drifter type, used to come to Treasure Point now and then years ago?”

  “Yes.”

  The ME looked pleased to have a name to work with. “All right, I’ll start there. Expect a call by morning, if not late tonight, Chief.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Downs.”

  Davies looked at Matt—stared him down, actually—as Dr. Downs left the room. “How did you know that?”

  “I’d rather not explain it to you right now. Could I talk to you privately, Chief?”

  The chief nodded. Just that quickly, Davies was gone, too—although not looking too happy about it—and the two of them were alone.

  “The case ten years ago, the one where the group of men was arrested, tried and then imprisoned for stealing historical artifacts and antiques...” Matt described it in as much detail as he could without mentioning his dad. No need to draw attention to the fact that he was technically connected to that case, even though he hadn’t been involved.

  “One of the biggest Treasure Point has had.”

  “Yes. Well, I ended up talking to Gemma Phillips, who was a witness in that case, and she suspects she knows who the body is. That’s the name she gave me.”

  “Do you know why she thinks the body might be Harris Walker’s?”

  Not enough to share yet—and certainly not without Gemma’s permission. “I’m working on getting a clearer picture.”

  “All right. Well, it’s all we’ve got for now so we may as well follow up on it.” The chief’s eyes narrowed. “I’m trying to remember who worked that case. I don’t think they’re here anymore. I think most of the men have either retired or moved on to bigger departments in places like Savannah, or I would connect you with them to talk through the case.”

  Let him talk to people who’d investigated that past case? So that meant...even if this current case, his case, was connected to his dad’s, he was still going to be allowed to take the lead on the investigation? He was scared to ask. But the words came before he could stop them—he’d never been good at being sneaky or going behind people’s backs.

  “Sir, I’m still the lead on this case? Even if it does tie into that one?”

  The chief nodded. “I don’t see any reason you wouldn’t be.”

  Sure, make him say it. “My...dad...sir...”

  “Isn’t you. And he’s in jail. His part in this appears to be over and entirely in the past. The man we’re after now is another matter entirely. If he’s really threatening Gemma Phillips’s life, he’s not your father, since he’s in prison, so I see no reason why this case would be too personal for you to be in charge of it.”

  “Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.”

  “I know. This is it, Matt. This is your chance. I know you can do it.”

  Matt was pretty sure he walked a little taller on his way out. He couldn’t let the chief down.

  Time to go talk to Gemma.

  “You headed home?” Shiloh asked him from across the parking lot.

  “Yeah,” he answered. Most of the other officers who’d stopped by during the
day to see the crime scene were gone now.

  “Meeting Gemma?” Shiloh asked casually as she packed crime scene equipment back into her car.

  “I am.”

  “Be careful, Matt. I heard some things today... No one is saying this case is for sure linked to the one she testified in, but with the proximity of the body to that crime scene, it’s gotten people talking. I just worry about how trustworthy she is.”

  “You’re still pretty new here, Shiloh.” Not like Matt. Matt had McIntosh County blood running through his veins. His family was Treasure Point from way back and he’d grown up breathing the salty, marshy air and splitting his time between the woods and the ocean, like any good Southern boy. “You don’t know what happened then. And no one knows Gemma like I do.”

  There. He’d said it. The words that made no sense, even to him.

  Just as he might’ve guessed, Shiloh’s head snapped up at that declaration. “You’re not just interested in her because of this case.”

  Matt shrugged. He’d said enough—too much—and wasn’t going to keep going. But he knew it was true. There was something about Gemma that made him feel connected to her in a way he couldn’t describe.

  Shiloh shook her head, slammed her trunk shut and brushed her hands as if she was getting rid of dirt. Or maybe just ending the conversation. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  Driving home, with past memories mixing with mental pictures of the crime scene excavation today, wondering how he was going to sort through Gemma’s perspective when he hadn’t figured out what his own thoughts were on this case yet, he hoped he knew what he was doing, too.

  Some of his doubts faded once he got home, changed and headed to his shed. He was in the middle of finishing up another ocean kayak, something he enjoyed not just for the finished product, but for the stress relief it gave him to work on the boats in progress, create something with his own hands.

  Matt dived back into his current project, letting his mind work on the case as his hands worked on the kayak. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been working when Gemma showed up. He only knew he’d forgotten to eat dinner, or go out to meet her.