Cold Case Reopened

by Caridad Piñeiro

  The detective looked away and muttered something under his breath. Kryptonite, she thought he said before locking his gaze on her again. “Well? Rhea?”

  “I promise.”

  JACKSON SUCKED IN a deep breath, held it and in a rush said, “I spoke to the chief, and we’re reopening the case. Especially after last night.”

  Rhea’s face paled, and she leaned away from the table. “It was Matt, wasn’t it?”

  He looked away for a moment, but then focused his gaze on her. “The Avalon police went by his house. It doesn’t seem as if he was home.”

  “And if he wasn’t, he was here,” she said as she dragged a hand through her hair, making the thick locks dance around her face.

  “Possibly. It’s something I’ll have to investigate.”

  She gestured between the two of them. “We’ll investigate. I want to be a part of this investigation.”

  Jackson shook his head vehemently. “No way, Rhea. This is a police investigation.”

  Rhea shifted toward him, the blue of her eyes icy cold. “There wouldn’t even be an investigation without me.” She tapped a finger to her chest. “I’m the one who got all this evidence. I’m the one who knows the information inside and out.”

  “And you’re the one who is too close to this. Too close because it’s your twin, your mirror image. The person who is a part of your soul,” he shot back.

  A pregnant silence hung in the air, heavy with emotion, but then Rhea broke that silence in words barely above a whisper, as her gaze sheened with tears yet again.

  “You made me a promise and you kept it,” she said, voice husky with feeling.

  He nodded. “I did.”

  “I made you a promise, as well. But the only way I can keep it, that I can know Selene is gone, is if you let me be a part of this investigation.”

  Silence reigned again as Jackson considered her request. As he skipped his gaze over her features, taking in her pain and her determination. She wouldn’t rest until she had an answer. And she would never believe that answer unless she was certain that he had turned over every stone, even the tiniest pebble. Because of that, there was only one thing he could think to say.

  Chapter Five

  “Okay.”

  She jumped, startled by that one-word answer. “You mean that? You’ll let me help you?”

  He nodded. “I hope I don’t live to regret this, Rhea.”

  “You won’t, Detective. You won’t regret it,” she said.

  Jackson had no doubt that she meant every word. But his gut told him that this investigation was going to test him. He hoped he didn’t fail the test.

  The waitress slowly approached once again and, at Jackson’s nod, she came over to take their orders, even though they’d been so busy they hadn’t really looked at the menu.

  “The soup and salad combo here is really good. My favorite is the grilled cheese and tomato soup. But if you’re hungrier, the French Dip is good, as well,” Jackson said.

  Rhea nodded. “I’ll have the grilled cheese and tomato soup combo. A little comfort food is always good.”

  “I agree. I’ll have the same, but the full version, Sheila. Some pop also,” Jackson said.

  “Diet pop for me, thank you,” Rhea added, which earned a long look from the detective and a raised eyebrow. The look sent butterflies into flight in her stomach and ignited warmth at her core.

  “I’ve been missing my regular workouts,” she offered in explanation.

  “What kind of workouts?”

  “Is this some kind of interrogation?” she parried, eyes narrowed as she considered him.

  He shrugged those broad shoulders. “I just like to know more about the people I’m working with, Partner.”

  Partner. Rhea liked the sound of that but, other than Selene and a few, very few, close friends, she wasn’t used to sharing details of her personal life. But as her gaze locked with his, it occurred to her that the detective wouldn’t be satisfied if she didn’t answer his questions.

  “I normally do a yoga class or two each week, plus some strength training. I also like to take really long walks or hikes when I can.”

  “In between painting and running the gallery?”

  The waitress brought over the sodas at that moment, but once she’d gone again, Rhea answered, “I paint in the early morning and late afternoon when my studio has the best light. I have a full-time manager for the gallery, although I’m the one who decides what to show there.”

  “I’ve seen some of your paintings on the website. They’re beautiful. Did you always like to paint?”

  Rhea nodded and with a laugh said, “My mother said I used to paint myself and Selene with our baby food.”

  “Is your mom—”

  Rhea shook her head. “She and my dad passed a few years ago in an automobile accident. I’m glad, because the worry over what happened to Selene would have killed them.”

  But Rhea didn’t want to revisit Selene’s disappearance right now and luckily the waitress arrived with their meals at that moment.

  Hunger for the food replaced his hunger for information for the next few minutes, but then he began again.

  “I understand. My parents always worried when I was deployed,” Jackson said in between bites of the grilled cheese.

  “Where did you serve?” she asked and murmured in appreciation of the sandwich, “Delicious.”

  Jackson smiled and it transformed his face from that of the stern-and-stoic police officer into an almost boyish dimpled grin that made him look much younger.

  “I’m glad you like it,” he said, but didn’t answer her question.

  She pressed. “So where was it? Iraq? Afghanistan?”

  “Afghanistan. Marine just like my dad.”

  “Are your parents still alive?” she asked, wondering about her “partner” and his life.

  He spooned up some soup, ate it and nodded. “They live in Florida now, close to some of my cousins. Got tired of the Colorado cold, but they come back in the summer to visit.”

  “Must be nice,” she said, thinking of her parents and how much Selene and she had loved to spend time with them.

  He nodded and polished off the last of his meal. “It is. I miss them.”

  “You’re lucky to have family,” Rhea said wistfully, and Jackson quickly picked up on it.

  He raised his glass of soda and peered at her over the rim. “Is it just you and Selene?”

  “It is. My parents were both only children, and my grandparents are all gone. It’s why it’s so important to find her,” she said, and Jackson winced as she said it. He didn’t believe Selene was alive and didn’t want her to get her hopes up, but she’d keep hope alive as long as she could. Because of that, she said, “So, Partner. When do we start this investigation?”

  AFTER THEY’D FINISHED LUNCH, Jackson had suggested that they go to his office at the police station, where he’d taken all the materials Rhea had gathered and locked them in his desk for safekeeping. Especially after what had happened at the inn the night before.

  If Matt had been the perpetrator, he might have not only intended to do harm to Rhea, but to also destroy the materials so that the police would not use that information against him.

  In the police station, Jackson got Rhea settled in one of their conference rooms so they could discuss her evidence. Normally he would set up a board with all the pertinent information, but since Rhea and he would have to move from Avalon and back, he had created a notebook in the cloud to hold the info, questions and any answers they gathered.

  He grabbed his laptop and her evidence and joined her in the room, where he displayed the digital information on a large monitor. As he laid out the hard copies, he said, “I locked these up to keep them safe, but I also plan on scanning everything and adding it to my notes.”

  “
Thank you. I appreciate all your hard work,” she said. She splayed her long, elegant fingers, with their teasing rings of gold and silver, against the tabletop, almost as if to still any nervous motion.

  As he would with any board he made for an investigation, he talked through the info in the digital notebook, filling in Rhea as he worked.

  “There are three possible scenarios. The first is that Matt Davis murdered your sister. The second is that Selene killed herself. The third is that an unknown suspect murdered your sister.”

  “And another scenario is that Selene is still alive, and we need to find her,” Rhea added. Even though Jackson had only known her for a couple of days, he knew not to argue with her. At least not yet. In time the evidence would eventually rule out that possibility, but he wasn’t going to press the issue at that moment.

  Pick your battles, he reminded himself.

  He went through Rhea’s evidence, entering the information into his notes. As he did so, she jumped in with her thoughts to add to the materials. When they finished, it added up to a lot of questions and doubts about the story Selene’s husband had provided to officials, making him Number One on Jackson’s list of suspects. Which he should have been from the very beginning since the spouse was generally the prime suspect.

  But there were also questions about the other scenarios and overlaps. “If there was an SUV by Selene’s car that night, and if it wasn’t Matt, it’s possible that the owner of that vehicle may have something to do with Selene’s...disappearance,” he said, biting back the murder reference in respect of Rhea’s beliefs.

  “It is possible that SUV is tied to Selene’s...disappearance,” Rhea agreed, likewise holding back. “What do we do now?”

  Jackson rifled through the papers and pulled out her notes on the insurance policies that had been issued barely weeks before Selene’s disappearance. Holding up the papers, he said, “How was it that you found out about the policies?”

  “I got a call from an investigator from the insurance company. They were doing their own review about Selene’s disappearance since the policies were so new,” she said and gestured to the bottom of the page. “That’s his name and number.”

  Jackson thought about it for a moment. “Normally most policies are paid out very quickly. At the most, maybe sixty days after the death, but since they had questions, maybe we’ll get lucky.” He pulled over the conference room phone and dialed the investigator.

  “Winston Summers,” he answered after a couple of rings.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Summers. This is Detective Jackson Whitaker with the Regina Police Department. You’re on speaker and I have Rhea Reilly with me, as well.”

  “Good afternoon, Detective. Ms. Reilly. How can I help you today?”

  Jackson shared a look with Rhea and plowed on. “I understand you were investigating the insurance policies issued to Matt and Selene Davis.”

  “I was, but we’re getting ready to close our case and pay out the policy on Mrs. Davis,” the investigator said.

  Jackson detected something in the other man’s tone. “You don’t sound too happy about that, Winston.”

  A rough laugh came across the line. “I’m not. I can’t prove a thing, but this just doesn’t smell right to me.”

  With a quick sidewise glance at Rhea, whose face had paled with those words, Jackson said, “It doesn’t feel right to us, either. That’s why we’ve reopened the case here in Regina.”

  “Well, you’ve made my day, Detective. No offense meant, Ms. Reilly. Now that you’ve done that, I’ll tell my superiors to hold off on the payout,” Winston said.

  Jackson laid his hand over Rhea’s and squeezed reassuringly. “I’d appreciate that. If you don’t mind, I’d like to tell Matt Davis myself about that decision.”

  Summers chuckled. “I understand, Detective. I’m sure he won’t be happy. I hope that helps your case.”

  Jackson provided Summers with his contact info and hung up.

  Rhea was confused by the investigator’s statements. She shook her head and said, “Why will it help the case?”

  “It’ll make Matt angry and angry people act rashly. They make mistakes, and those mistakes may help us find out what really happened to Selene.”

  Rhea blew out a breath. “Matt will be pissed, especially if his business is still having problems.”

  Jackson flipped through her papers again. “You say Matt was having financial issues at the time Selene disappeared?”

  She nodded. “Selene had told me business had fallen off and his bills were mounting. That was creating a lot of tension in their marriage.” She hesitated, remembering how upset her sister had been, as well as something troubling. “I think that’s when I first spotted the bruises on Selene.”

  “The pressure blew off his lid. Revealed his true nature. Hopefully our visit, and the news about the insurance policy, will do the same. Are you up to going to Avalon?”

  Am I up to it? she thought, but then an image of Matt’s smug face flashed through her brain. He hadn’t even tried to deny the abuse when she’d confronted him shortly after her sister’s disappearance.

  “I am so up for it. If Selene is dead, I’m sure Matt did it, and I want to prove that,” she said, her throat tightening as she said the words.

  Jackson’s touch came against her hand again, comforting and secure. His palm rough, but soothing. “We’ll go in the morning.”

  Which meant she had to spend another night at the inn. Another sleepless night, watching the doors and windows for signs of an intruder.

  “You’ll stay with me tonight,” he said, almost as if he’d read her mind.

  She peered at him, weighing the risk he presented to her in a very different way, but if they were going to see Matt tomorrow, she had to be sharp.

  “Thank you, Detective. That’s very kind of you.”

  He raised a hand to stop her, like a cop directing traffic. “Just part of the job,” he said, but she doubted that it was standard procedure to take partners home.

  When he rose, he grimaced, grabbed his back and stretched, as if to work out a knot. She realized then that they’d been sitting for hours reviewing the case. A second later, his stomach emitted a loud rumble that he tried to hide by covering his lean midsection with his big hand.

  “Sorry,” he said with a chagrined smile.

  “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how late it was. How about I treat you to dinner?”

  He did another stretch of that long lean body and grimaced again. “Actually, I have a nice big steak I was going to cook tonight. How about we pick up your things and we throw the steak on the grill? It’s enough for two.”

  Since she felt like she was already imposing on him, she deferred to his request. “That sounds nice. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me just yet. My cooking skills leave a lot to be desired.”

  She doubted that. Detective Whitaker struck her as someone who was likely quite capable in many ways, which brought a rush of unwanted heat as her mind drifted where it shouldn’t. To hide her reaction, she turned her attention to organizing the papers scattered around the table while Jackson scooped up his laptop.

  She handed him her notes, and he stood before her uncertainly, his gaze traveling over her face, examining her. But surprisingly, he seemed to misunderstand what she was feeling. “It’ll be okay, Rhea. Everything is going to work out.”

  She went with it, not wanting to clue him in to how uneasy he made her on a personal level. “I know it will,” she said and tilted her head in the direction of the door. “I guess it’s time for us to go.”

  Chapter Six

  It was time to go, and Jackson hoped he wasn’t making a big mistake by taking Rhea home with him. But he’d barely gotten any sleep the night before thanks to the intruder at the inn. He needed a clear head tomorrow when they spoke to Matt Davis, which
meant he needed to get some rest.

  But as he caught sight of Rhea’s slim but enticing figure as she walked out the door, his gut tightened with desire, and he wondered just how much sleep he was actually going to get.

  In no time they had checked Rhea out of the inn and were at Jackson’s home on the outskirts of town. The log cabin home was on a large wooded lot that provided gorgeous views of the lake below and the dam’s spillway in the distance.

  “This is lovely,” she said as she set down her suitcase, walked through his home and out to the large deck that faced the lake.

  He shrugged. “Thanks. My dad and I built the place when I got back from Afghanistan.”

  “You did an amazing job,” she said, leaning against the railing and glancing back toward his home.

  “Let me show you to the guest room,” he said, walked back in and snared her suitcase. He took her upstairs to a room a few doors down from his and set her things by a queen-size bed. With a flip of his hand, he said, “The bathroom is across the way if you need it. I’m going to get started on dinner.”

  “Let me help,” she said, and they returned to the ground floor where the open-concept space held the kitchen, dining room and living room with a wall of glass that opened to the deck and offered views of the lake, mountains and Regina.

  They prepped a salad and sliced up some potatoes and onions to cook on the grill beside a large steak. Since it was still nice outside, they decided to eat out on the deck.

  Rhea stood by Jackson as he laid the potatoes, onions and steak on the grill. Contrary to what he’d said earlier, he was quite a capable cook and the meal they ate was simple, but delicious.

  Unlike lunch, dinner was a quieter affair, maybe because they had already done a lot of talking during the day. Although Jackson offered an after-dinner coffee, Rhea was eager for some time alone to think about all that had happened the last few days and what would happen in the days to come.

  She helped Jackson clean up, but when she offered to help him wash, he demurred. “It’s okay. I can handle this.”