Hidden Secrets (The Hidden Series Book 3)

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Hidden Secrets (The Hidden Series Book 3) Page 15

by Kristin Coley


  I covered my face with my hands, sinking lower into the seat as I clearly saw what I’d done.

  “I thought I was being logical,” I told him in a small voice.

  “Yeah, well, I can tell you from experience, logic and emotion don’t have anything to do with one another,” he replied, reaching over to pat my head awkwardly. I knocked his arm off and told him, “I’m not a dog.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No, I’m the sorry one. Damn it, I have some explaining to do.” I sighed heavily, banging my head against the seat.

  “At least it’s easy to explain,” he said in an attempt to comfort.

  “Yeah, but it doesn’t change the reality. You’re part of my life and we have a weird connection.”

  “And honestly, I think Jake can accept that, but he might need more attention.” I nodded, accepting what he said, but still kicking myself for inadvertently causing the situation to start with. “Since we’re on the topic, I should probably add that Jules and Carly are also feeling neglected.”

  I groaned even louder and the bastard chuckled.

  “I’ll let you sort that one out.”

  Half an hour later, we pulled into the parking lot of a nice nursing home. Wade whistled as he came around the car and said, “This place ain’t cheap.”

  “Yeah, but he’s still here alone,” I reminded him. It didn’t matter how nice the place was, I couldn’t imagine leaving Paw Paw there.

  “True,” Wade agreed, tilting his head toward me. “How you want to do this?”

  “We’ll see if he’s accepting visitors.”

  It was surprisingly easy to gain entry to his room, the nurse leading us gushing about how nice it would be for him to have new visitors.

  The man we found was the same age as my grandfather, but half the size. He was shrunken and frail with an oxygen tube in his nose. His eyes were cloudy, but I saw a glimmer of awareness in them.

  “Hi, I’m Addie Michaels, my uncle is Duke Michaels,” I started with a gut punch, looking for a reaction.

  I got one.

  “Bastard killed my Summer!” Rage flared across his face and I stepped back. Wade placed a hand on my back, stopping me.

  “There’s some crazy emotions going on there. Guilt and regret at the top of the list,” he whispered behind my head. I geared myself and sat next to the angry old man.

  “What do you mean?” I pushed, knowing his heightened emotions would make him more likely to slip up.

  “He drove her to her death,” he said angrily, a frown taking over his face. My forehead wrinkled at his wording.

  “He drove her to her death?” I repeated curiously, Wade nodded encouragingly.

  “He was no good. I told her to stop seeing him, but she didn’t listen.” The old man shook his head, sorrow seeping through the anger. “Eventually, he did exactly what I expected and broke her heart.” I gazed at Wade in confusion, but he was staring at Summer’s father.

  “And what happened when he broke her heart?” Wade questioned softly. His question did nothing to ease my confusion, but it had a profound effect on her father.

  “She drowned herself in despair,” he whispered, a tear slowly trailing down his cheek. Wade settled on his other side, compassion on his face as he placed his hand gently on the man’s shoulder. I sat there, stunned at his revelation. Nothing Duke had said indicated they’d broken up and we knew she hadn’t drowned.

  I gave Wade a puzzled frown and he tilted his head toward her father. I took the hint and parroted his words back to him as a question.

  “She drowned herself?” I asked carefully, feeling like we were finally on the brink of a breakthrough.

  “We’d fought so often about Duke Michaels, we were barely speaking,” he answered, his voice bitter when he said Duke’s name. “He was a troublemaker, a summer kid who raised hell and caught her attention. She insisted I didn’t understand him, but it didn’t take long for him to break her heart by talking to other girls. She loved the lake. I should have known.” He shook his head, a painful grimace on his face as he struggled for air. Wade patted his back as we waited a moment. I wasn’t sure we should continue to push, but Wade gave a slight nod.

  “Known what?”

  “What she planned,” he answered woodenly. “I knew she went to the lake in the mornings. She loved to watch the sunrise over the lake. I was going to clear a section of the woods so she wouldn’t have to walk so far to get a good view.” The love he felt for his daughter was obvious, and the memory of an angry man shouting on the porch revealed itself to be a man trying to protect his headstrong daughter. “That morning she must have been so upset. She was a good swimmer,” he told me, his eyes lost in memory. “She wouldn’t have gone into the water and drowned. She took her life.”

  I blinked in shock and Wade inhaled sharply. He’d spent years believing his daughter had committed suicide?

  “She committed suicide?” The question slipped out and he glared at me.

  “No, he killed her. She never would have done it if wasn’t for that boy.” He shook his head angrily. “I told them to declare it a murder, to string him up for what he’d done, but they didn’t have enough evidence.”

  I rubbed my head, getting more confused by the minute.

  “Who told you she drowned in the lake?”

  “Police Chief Davis.” He blinked back tears. “He came to the house that morning, telling me she’d been found in the lake. They didn’t suspect foul play. I knew what he was implying,” he said heavily, only increasing my confusion. “She’d taken her life and if her death was ruled as a suicide, she wouldn’t be buried in the church. I couldn’t allow that to happen. For her to not be buried next to her mother,” his eyes pleaded with me to understand and I nodded. “I told him it was murder and we spoke of it no more,” he finished and sat back.

  I released the breath I’d been holding, stunned by his revelations. Wade eyed me and I lifted my shoulder. It seemed like we needed to talk to the police chief, but first I needed to set her father’s mind at ease.

  “Mr. Keyes,” I spoke, wondering if what I was about to tell him would actually bring him comfort. “Summer didn’t commit suicide. She was murdered, but not by drowning. She was asphyxiated and thrown in the lake to make it appear as if she drowned. I’m here to find out the truth of who killed your daughter that long-ago summer.”

  A glimmer of light came in his eyes at my words and Wade smiled.

  “She didn’t commit suicide?” he repeated and I shook my head. “Murder,” he said to himself, his expression curious. “I never really believed she’d been murdered, I just didn’t want her death to be ruled suicide.”

  “Do you think Duke killed her?” Wade’s question was ambiguous to me but her father shook his head.

  “No, I might not have liked him, but he wouldn’t have harmed her. He might have broken her heart, but he wouldn’t have killed my Summer.”

  “She really didn’t commit suicide?” His question was urgent and I assured him she hadn’t. The brightest smile lit his face then and it was like the sun had broken through the clouds. “She’s with her mother then. I’ll see her again.”

  “Yes,” I answered, swallowing back unexpected tears at his joy. I’d realized he was Catholic when he mentioned he wanted her buried next to her mother, and that for all of these years he’d believed his daughter was in hell for committing suicide. To see the absolute joy on his face at knowing the truth, I had to swipe away an escaped tear.

  “We should go,” Wade cleared his throat and I saw he’d been moved as well. “Thank you for talking to us today.”

  “Thank you,” he answered through a choked voice. “You’ve made an old man’s day.” We nodded, standing up, and he caught my arm. “You’ll come back once you know?”

  “Yes, we will,” I promised him, gently squeezing the papery skin of his hand.

  As we walked back down the hall, Wade said, “That was unexpected.”

  “To say the least. We n
eed to talk to Police Chief Davis, I think,” I answered, glancing at the reception desk we’d signed in at. A familiar woman stood at the desk, signing in, and I stopped short, tugging Wade back out of sight. “Look,” I hissed and he peered around the corner.

  “Isn’t that our friendly neighbor?”

  “Joyce,” I answered, wondering why she was here. I elbowed Wade and gave him an expectant look. He gave me a puzzled frown then his expression cleared as it dawned on him what I wanted.

  “What’s she doing here?”

  I leaned back at the answer and it was his turn to nudge me.

  “She’s here to see Mr. Keyes.”

  “What a coincidence,” Wade muttered. “Does she do that regularly, I wonder?”

  “Every week without fail for twenty-five years,” I responded.

  “Either that’s the nicest woman on the planet or she’s got reasons.”

  “I’m betting she’s got a reason,” I said and he nodded.

  “I’m not going to bet against you.” He squinted toward her and shook his head. “Her aura is clear, no guilt or suspicious emotions.”

  “Doesn’t mean they’re not there.”

  “Do we want to run into her?” Wade asked and I shook my head, distracted as I watched her set the pen down with her right hand and pick up a heavy basket with her left.

  “No, not today,” I answered him and he pushed me toward another exit away from her.

  “Then let’s go find our police chief,” he responded, pushing open the door to the unrelenting heat outside. “What’s Police Chief Davis’ address?”

  I rattled it off as we walked to the car, all of the day’s revelations overwhelming me. By unspoken agreement, Wade keyed the address into the GPS on his phone and we headed off.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I don’t think we’ll be talking to Chief Davis anytime soon,” Wade mentioned, his hands propped on the steering wheel as we stared at the place the GPS had taken us to.

  “God, I hope not.” I shuddered at the thought as I stared at the sign for Mt. Pleasant Cemetery. “What a cluster her death turned out to be. The police chief assumed she’d committed suicide and her father, the mayor, forced him to call it a homicide, which it was, but they still ruled the cause of death wrong, and let the real killer get away.”

  “I have to wonder if the police chief knew more than he let on. Did he intentionally tell Mayor Keyes his daughter committed suicide to protect someone or was it his own poor policework?”

  I shook my head, not knowing the answer. “All I know is it wasn’t the father. Hopefully, Connor and Jake have made some progress.”

  Wade shifted the car in gear and sped back toward the lake and our cabin. I saw a gas station coming up and asked him to stop. He slowed the car and pulled in, eyeing the place suspiciously.

  “Is it open?” He asked doubtfully and I laughed.

  “You sound like a snob,” I told him and he curled his lip. The place was a shack, no doubt, a place to fuel up and grab some necessities, including live bait, I read on the sign. But they also offered one other thing I needed - lottery tickets.

  “Come on, I want to grab some scratch offs as a peace offering to Connor and I could use a Diet Coke.” Wade grumbled but got out of the car like I knew he would. The place was perfectly safe, but he wouldn’t let me walk in alone.

  I headed straight for the fountain drink machine crammed against a back wall next to a deli counter where fried fish and fried chicken competed with boudin. I eyed the foil wrapped boudin hungrily and Wade said, “Hell no. You have no idea how long that’s been there.”

  “It’s fresh,” a voice laden with laughter piped up. “Made this morning, its blood boudin, you won’t find any better.”

  I shrugged, willing to give it a try, but Wade was no longer looking at me but instead the girl behind the counter who’d spoken to us.

  His expression was odd and the way he stared - borderline creepy. The girl glanced down shyly and I noticed she was around my age, pretty with dark brown hair scooped back into a ponytail. I put a lid on my drink and grabbed a couple links of the boudin, ready to head to the counter. Wade still stood there though and the girl behind the counter shifted uncomfortably as his stare lingered.

  “Would you like anything?” She asked, gesturing to the display case of food. Wade didn’t respond so I shook my head and flashed her a quick smile, wondering what had come over my normally well-mannered friend. A sharp tug got him moving toward the check out with me, but he kept glancing over his shoulder at her.

  “Wade,” I said under my breath. “What is going on? You want to ask for her number?” I was out of my depth here since I’d never had to play wingman for one of my friends and Wade was definitely a special case. He didn’t answer me and as I set my stuff on the counter, I realized I needed him to ask me which scratch offs were winners, but he was still staring at the girl behind the counter, a fact she seemed aware of as she tried to tuck herself in a corner. “Wade, what do you see?” This time my question received an answer, just an unexpected one.

  “Nothing,” he muttered, his face closed. “I don’t see anything.”

  His words were curious and I poked him, “Then quit staring cause I think you’re starting to make her uncomfortable.” My words jolted him out of whatever trance he’d been in and he twisted toward me. “What did you mean by nothing?” I asked and he shook his head.

  “Nothing, what do you need?” He nodded to the counter and I remembered what I wanted him to ask. He asked and I got seven of the Crazy Bucks tickets, grumbling about the cost as I handed over a twenty to the man behind the register.

  “It’s your own fault,” Wade replied, watching the man shove my boudin in a bag. “You encourage Conner’s behavior.”

  I glared at him as I accepted my change.

  “It’s called friendship, Wade. We do things for our friends, like I would go get that girl’s number for you if you wanted.” He blanched at my offer and I chuckled. “Or not, based on your expression.” He shook his head and hurried me out the door, not even glancing back at the girl who’d consumed his attention so thoroughly a few minutes before.

  The entire interaction was curious but I didn’t have time to ponder it as we arrived back to the cabin to an overly excited Connor.

  “About time you got back. I have a great idea,” he told us enthusiastically, his earlier bad mood gone.

  “I don’t know about great,” Jake commented, his expression reluctant. He glanced between me and Wade, and our conversation became front and center in my thoughts. It hadn’t really left my mind even with the day’s revelations, but now if demanded to be addressed. However, Connor wasn’t going to let that happen.

  “Seriously, I’m dying to see if this works,” he said, eyes gleaming as he rubbed his hands together. I raised my eyebrows, suddenly concerned by his enthusiasm.

  “What exactly do you want to see?” I asked, setting my bag on the table. Danny chuckled at my ignorance as he peeked into the bag. I waved my hand and told him, “You can have some. I have a feeling Connor won’t let me eat any time soon.”

  “Ok, so you know how they do experiments to determine physical characteristics of an assailant?” I nodded slowly as what he was thinking came through. “Like determining height or weight in relation to a blow or the angle of a strike. I figured we could do the same thing.”

  “Except our victim is dead, along with all the evidence she would have possessed,” I answered, hopping up to sit on the table as he paced excitedly in front of me. Jake steepled his hands in front of him as he watched Connor, and I figured I was about to find out why Jake didn’t think this was the best idea.

  “Yes, but you experienced her death. So, if we recreate it then maybe you can narrow down some physical characteristic of the assailant.” He held out his arms, staring at me proudly, and I had to admit, it was a good idea.

  “Of course, that means making her to relive Summer’s death,” Jake mentioned none to
happily. Connor had the grace to wince at his words, but I wasn’t bothered by the idea if it meant we’d get a little closer to the truth.

  “I’m game,” I told them, hopping down from the table and going over to Jake. I wrapped my arms around him from behind and kissed his cheek, his vacation stubble scratchy and yes, sexy. “I know you don’t like it, but I can do this,” I whispered in his ear and he tilted his head back to meet my eyes.

  “I know you can. I just wish you didn’t have too.”

  “You didn’t find anything?” I asked, suspecting they hadn’t since Connor was so enthused about his current plan. Jake shook his head and gave me a questioning look. “We found some interesting stuff, but nothing that’s getting us any closer to our killer. I hate to say it, but Conner’s plan might be the best we have at the moment.”

  Jake closed his eyes, but a faint smile creased his cheek. “What a terrifying thought.”

  “I heard that,” Connor muttered, coming up next to us. “You just hate to admit that I had two great ideas today.” He thrust two fingers in my face and I had to choke back a laugh. He was right about that at least, not that I’d admit he was right about anything at the moment.

  “Okay, so how do you want to do this? She was grabbed from behind. She never saw her attacker. I’m not sure what we’ll get from this but I’m willing to try.” I stood up and Jake turned to look up at Connor.

  “Anything. Even if we get an idea how tall he was, fat or skinny, muscular. Maybe something will shake loose.” I nodded, considering his words as I thought back over the memory of her attack. Nothing jumped out at me, but hopefully reenacting it would trigger something.

  “So, who’s going to get this party started?” I glanced at them, but their eyes shifted away as soon as they met mine. “Come on, guys. It can’t be that bad.”

  Connor let out a sigh and said, “I guess since it was my idea.”

  “Way to take one for the team, Con,” I congratulated him as I went to stand in front of the window. “She was staring at the lake, and she was surprised so I don’t think she heard her attacker coming.”

 

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