by Diane Capri
“You won’t find a story here, McAllister.” Her voice was cold, her green eyes scornful.
“What makes you think I’m looking for a story?”
“Your reputation precedes you.”
Gavin laughed, but there was no mirth in the sound. “Oh, yes, the ruthless bastard.” He scanned her face, trying to find what it was about her that made it hard for him to think of anything but holding her.
“The only thing you’ll find here is a sad young woman who lost control of her car and died.” Sarah’s voice was filled with anger, pain, and something he couldn’t quite decipher.
“I thought she was drinking.” Gavin stated, watching the green eyes for a reaction.
Sarah didn’t answer, but turned away and started toward the Explorer.
“You’re not sure it was an accident, are you?” He baited her.
Sarah turned, hesitation and doubt written on her face, as she met his challenging gaze.
“If it wasn’t, that’s still no business of yours. Watch your step while you’re in my town, McAllister. One wrong move, one citizen’s complaint, and you’ll find yourself with an overnight stay and a one-way ticket out of here.”
Gavin looked at the marks on the tree, ignoring the challenge. “And what about Johanna? What about her pain? The dead don’t rest, Sheriff, until the guilty are punished.”
Their eyes met and Gavin felt something pass between them. For a moment he thought she had touched him. Just a gentle brush of her fingertips across his face. A feather-light kiss. A flicker of pain darkened her eyes.
“Johanna Nelson’s death was an accident. There aren’t any secrets in Glade Springs, Mr. McAllister.”
He watched her turn her back on him again, walking stiffly to her vehicle. He issued his own challenge. “Someone in Glade Springs has a secret, Sheriff. One worth killing for, and I’m going to find it.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ella Mae Thomas placed the Nelson file in the drawer. She liked her job at the sheriff’s office. She liked the deputies, and she even liked the sheriff on most days. Sighing, Ella Mae closed the drawer. What she didn’t like was going home. What if he was home? She hated him. Hated this place.
“I’m headed home, Ella Mae. Leave Tommy a note to call me if he needs anything.”
“Okay, Deputy Cross.”
Joshua hesitated. Ella Mae had been here almost a week and he still didn’t know anything about her except that her husband traveled. She looked lonely, lost.
“You know, you can call me Joshua.” He grinned at her.
Ella Mae smiled shyly, blushing.
Joshua’s grin broadened. She certainly was a shy little bird. “Hey, Mary and I are thinking about taking in a movie and dinner out tonight. Care to join us?”
Ella Mae smiled again. “No, I have to go home.”
“Well, if you change your mind, you’re welcome to tag along.”
“Thanks, Deputy… Joshua.”
She stared longingly at the closed door. Joshua was nice, a good man. Dinner and a movie would be nice. But she had to go home. What if Philip was there? She never knew when he would be home. He’d be angry if he found out. She rubbed the bruises hidden by the long-sleeved blouse. Dinner and a movie wasn’t worth it.
Ella Mae wrote a quick note to Tommy, her heart heavy. How had she gotten herself into this? She knew the answer to that question. What had made her think a man as handsome as Philip Thomas could love a woman as ugly as her? She knew her features were plain, homely at best. She didn’t even have a good figure. She’d been so flattered with his attention, so blindly in love with him, she’d never questioned his motives for marrying her. Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. There was no way out, no place where he wouldn’t find her. And if he found her…Ella Mae shivered in the warm evening air as she placed the note for Tommy on the counter, locked the door and headed home.
#
Carl Jackson scanned the daily report, but found nothing new. He hadn’t expected anything. His head ached and he absently rubbed the back of his neck. He’d tried to talk to Rob last night, but the alcohol did all Rob’s talking. Damn foolishness is all it was. What was Rob thinking blaming Gavin for Cory’s death? Pain sliced through his belly at Rob’s parting words: “What if it was me, Carl? What if Cory was killed because of me?”
A light knock jerked him from his thoughts. Chief Walsh opened the door, came in, and closed it behind him. Oh, shit, here it comes, Carl thought.
“How’s Rob doing, Carl?”
Carl avoided meeting the chief’s eyes. “He’s doing okay, sir. Expect he’ll be ready to come in any day now.”
“That’s good news. Have you heard from Gavin?”
Carl felt the chief’s steady gaze, knew he was watching him, waiting for a response.
“Talked to him last night.” At least that was true.
Chief Walsh placed a sheet of paper on Carl’s desk. “My door’s open, Carl, when you want to talk.”
Finally meeting the Chief’s gaze, Carl nodded.
After Chief Walsh left, Carl sat looking at the closed door for a long time. He should have told the chief about Gavin. Should have told him the truth about Rob. He’d been with the Bureau the majority of his life. He didn’t like breaking the rules. Chief Walsh was not only his boss; he was also his friend. Carl glanced at the sheet of paper the chief had placed on his desk. Forgetting his guilt, he felt a surge of excitement. Rob had damn well better be ready to go to work.
#
Rob opened the door on the third ring.
Taking one look at the bloodshot eyes, Carl cursed. “Jesus Christ, Rob, you gotta pull yourself together.”
“Why?” Rob turned away, stumbling through the litter on the floor.
“Because you’re my fucking partner, and I need you, that’s why.” Kicking a pile of dirty clothes out of his path, Carl slammed the door behind him.
Something must have penetrated the fogged brain cells, because Rob turned and really looked at him.
“What’s up?”
“Just maybe the best thing that’s happened in a long time. A lead on the Mother’s Day killer. Or maybe Cory’s killer.” Carl lowered his voice, trying to soften the blow of his words.
Sitting down, Rob placed his head between his hands. “Get Gavin. He’ll help you. I can’t.”
Cursing again, Carl pushed his way through the cluttered room to the kitchen. Coffee was what was needed now. Rob was still sitting where he’d left him when Carl returned ten minutes later with two steaming mugs of strong coffee.
“Get off your ass, boy. Gavin is out there somewhere risking his life. The least you can do is try to help.” He placed the cup of coffee in Rob’s shaking hands and tossed the trash from the nearest chair.
Rob grimaced at the taste of the bitter coffee. “What do you mean Gavin is out there risking his life?”
Carl hesitated. He’d promised Gavin he wouldn’t tell Rob, and he hadn’t meant to let that slip. “Don’t worry about that yet, we got work to do here.”
Rob raised his head, meeting the stony gaze of his partner. “Don’t tell me he’s hit again?” The words scribbled on the small pink card had haunted him. Every day is Mother’s Day.
“No, but he just might have been seen this time. I’m driving. You look like shit, Rob. The drinking has got to stop.”
Rob nodded. Carl had been his partner for ten years. They were family. “Let me get a shower.”
“Make it cold!” Carl yelled after him.
The cold water helped clear Rob’s head, but the coffee was making him nauseous. Rob held his hand over the cup. “No. more. Fill me in. Tell me what we’ve got.”
“Our last victim was twelve-year-old Katlin Kramer. Disappeared on the evening of the eighth.”
Rob nodded. He already knew all this. He felt a knife slice through his heart. The day Cory had died.
Carl glanced at his partner, feeling his pain and frustration. “Give me a chance, okay? I’m too old to hurry. An
yway, a kid came up to the parents this morning. Says he met Katlin in an alley on Center Street that night. He got mad when she wouldn’t put out. Left her there. Kid’s pretty messed up right now. Blames himself.”
Rob frowned, searching his memory. “Hell, it’s been almost three weeks. Why didn’t he speak up sooner?”
“Parents divorced. He’d been out of the country with his mom. Didn’t know about the girl until he got back this morning. Anyway, you missed the point. He left her on Center Street.”
The knife twisted, going deeper.
“That’s near Cory’s apartment.” Rob’s voice was soft, hesitant. “Carl, you don’t think …”
“Method’s different, but we can’t discount it either. The paper didn’t know what Cory was working on. She could have found something. And something the kid saw that night makes me believe she did. Says he saw a police officer driving away from the trash bin where Cory was found. Kid found it a little strange because he wasn’t driving a police cruiser. According to the kid, the police officer parked the car and then went toward the apartment complex carrying luggage.”
Rob tried to digest what Carl was saying, but the words kept getting jumbled. Cory would have told him. They’d studied the surveillance video on Cory’s apartment in connection with her death, and the death of the security guard. They had seen the cop entering and exiting. No face. Nothing to identify him with.
“She didn’t tell me what she was working on either. But I know she would have, Carl, if it had anything to do with this case. Cory would have told me.”
Carl heard the anguish in Rob’s voice. Cory knew they’d been working this case for five years. Five years of chasing a nameless, faceless, sick bastard. The only saving grace they had was that the news had never leaked about the cards and poetry. It was hard enough to look into the eyes of grieving parents without their knowing their child’s killer had left a card. The son-of-a-bitch was leaving bodies as gifts.
“You know, when Chief Dooley checked the roster for that night, he said none of his boys were supposed to be in that area at that time. Figured the guy was a fake,” Carl continued, sounding out the evidence as he related it to Rob.
“Or a dirty cop,” Rob responded. He remembered the article Cory had written two years ago involving the Richmond Police Department. She’d received a lot of threats then, but nothing had come of it.
Carl cleared his throat. “It would have been easy for him to pick up the kid as he was leaving.” He hesitated, knowing that what he was about to say would impact the future of both of them forever. “Rob, you know if we find a connection, they’re going to remove us from this case.”
“Then I guess we aren’t going to find one, are we?” Rob looked at him then, the pale blue eyes determined, clear for the first time in weeks.
Carl nodded. “Guess we’re not.”
#
“Mommy!”
Sarah smiled, reaching down to pick up her daughter. Tears threatened at the corners of her eyes as she held her tight, feeling her warmth, hearing her tiny heartbeat. There had to be a way. She had to stop him. The loneliness inside threatened to overwhelm her, and she squeezed her daughter tighter.
“Mommy, you’re hugging too tight.” Nikki squirmed in her arms.
“Sorry, precious. I’m just so glad to see you.” Sarah sat her daughter down, capturing one tiny hand in her own as she entered the house. This was her home. The only home Nikki had ever known.
“Something smells good.” Sarah glanced fondly at her housekeeper and friend, Juanita Minguela.
“You’re late.”
“I know. Thank José for picking up Nikki for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you two.”
Sarah listened to her daughter’s chatter throughout dinner, hardly touching her food, as Juanita fussed around, scolding her for not sleeping enough, not eating enough, and spending too much time at the office.
“What you need is to find a good man. A woman needs a good man.”
Sarah grinned mischievously and winked at Nikki. They both knew this game.
“So, are you thinking of giving up José, Juanita? I mean, I might consider it, you know, if José were available.”
Not for the first time, Sarah was glad she didn’t speak Spanish, as Juanita flounced out of the room. She giggled with Nikki as they retired to the porch swing. Thank God for José and Juanita. They took care of her house and her daughter when she had to put in long hours at the office.
The squeaking of the old swing was a pleasant sound as Sarah’s thoughts drifted over the past five and a half years. She breathed in the cool night air, the wonderful smell of the honeysuckle vines. She loved it here. It was a perfect place to live, to raise her daughter. Or it had been.
A scowl crossed her face as her thoughts turned to her meeting with McAllister. She had been more shaken by the meeting than she wanted to admit. The sadness in his eyes had touched her, making her want to reach out and hold him, comfort him like she would Nikki. Her face warmed. No, not like she would Nikki.
Sarah knew she should leave now. It had to happen eventually. She’d always known they weren’t truly safe. She glanced at the sleeping child in her arms. They would never be safe.
Pulling Nikki closer, Sarah watched the dark clouds gathering overhead. McAllister was right about one thing—there were secrets worth killing for.
CHAPTER NINE
Gavin tossed and turned, his thoughts in chaos as images of Cory, Sarah and Nikki drifted through his mind. He didn’t want to sleep. Sleep brought the dreams, the demons that had chased him all his life. He could no longer pretend the demons belonged to Jacody Ives.
Tossing off the covers, he opened the laptop and pulled up a blank page. Placing his fingers on the keyboard he began to type.
The demons were back inside his head. Laughing at him. Mocking his inability to stop them. Jacody knew that this time it wasn’t a story. This time it was personal. Somewhere in the midst of this small farm town a killer lurked. Going about his daily life. Laughing, loving, following his dreams. He didn’t care about the dreams he’d destroyed.
Jacody had arrived in town amidst no fanfare. He’d only been here one day, and yet already the secrets had started to unravel. What had really happened to Johanna Nelson? Was she also a victim? Marisa thought so. And then there was the missing page from the register. Secrets. The whole town was full of secrets.
And what about the sheriff? Why would a beautiful young woman hide behind a badge? And what was she hiding?
Desire coursed through him as he remembered the flashing green eyes, heart-shaped face, and flaming red hair.
And then there was Nikki. His gut instincts told him the child was in danger. He could feel the darkness closing in around her. Was the secret surrounding Nikki? Was Nikki the one Cory wanted him to protect?
He was here to find a killer. Someone had killed to hide a secret.
He didn’t want to believe that Sarah was involved. It couldn’t be Sarah.
Gavin closed the laptop, a sinking feeling starting in the pit of his stomach as he faced the truth. He didn’t have to write it. This wasn’t a story. This time he couldn’t pick and choose the bad guy. His fingers shook as he dialed the number. It was only five a.m., but Carl would be up. Carl was always up.
“Hello.”
“Carl, it’s Gavin. I need a favor.”
“Shit, Gavin, it’s five in the morning.”
“Were you asleep?” Gavin grinned as he heard the muttered cursing at the other end of the line, the sound of the cigarette lighter clicking.
“Don’t make no difference whether I was sleeping or not. The chief is already suspicious. You’re asking me to put my job on the line here, Gavin. Is it worth it? And dammit, you could get killed.”
Gavin ignored the last and answered the first question. “I think so. Just a few more days, Carl. That’s all I need. For Cory.” He listened as Carl took a deep drag off the cigarette he’d just lit.
“A
ll right. What do you need?”
“A background check on Sheriff Sarah Burns. Anything you can find.”
“I’ll do it on one condition. You meet me at O’Patrick’s Friday night at six o’clock.”
Almost as an afterthought, Carl added, “Be careful. We think the guy doing this is impersonating a police officer. Or he really is a police officer. Thought we had a lead, but nothing panned out.”
“How’s Rob doing?” Gavin changed the subject. The silence told him more than he wanted to know.
“I told you I’d take care of Rob, and I will. Don’t you worry about him, you just be careful.”
“I’ll be careful.” Gavin hung up the phone. He knew Carl was worried, and it wasn’t about his job. He also knew that if Sarah Burns had a secret, Carl Jackson would find it.
The growling of his stomach reminded Gavin he hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. The Lodge offered its occupants breakfast, but Gavin wanted to mix with the locals. One good thing about small towns, the people got up early. If he was lucky, the café would be open. He needed to let people see him, get them talking. Someone here had to have seen Cory arrive. And someone here knew what happened after she arrived.
Morning traffic had just reached its peak as Gavin stepped onto Main Street. Motorists slowed, honked and waved as he walked toward Leslie’s Café. He waved and smiled. Every small town had secrets, but it also had good people. He needed to remember that. It was sometimes hard to expose the guilty without hurting the innocent.
The sign in the window said, “Mom’s Home Cooking.”
“Mr. McAllister!”
Gavin turned to watch the elderly man quickly approaching.
“Clarence Archibald, sir. I was hoping to get a chance to meet you. Just finished your last novel, Pool of Tears. Would you let an old man buy your breakfast?”
