by Liz Bradford
Jocelyn nodded.
The shovel hit something hard. Gavin threw it aside and dug with his hands.
Becca dropped to the ground and joined him.
He brushed the dirt aside, revealing an ivory surface. A minute later they uncovered a skull.
A pair of Martinsville officers helped them, and they exposed the entire skeleton.
Gavin made eye contact with Becca. “This body has been here for years.”
She nodded.
“Detective Riley!” an officer from Martinsville called from a hundred yards behind him.
Gavin turned to see the officer scurrying toward him. “What’s up?”
The officer leaned over to catch his breath before straightening again.
Gavin’s patience was MIA. “Spit it out already.”
“Sorry. Ran in from the highway. You got a call from Hazel Hill, from the station. Umm… what was his name—some detective called looking for you…”
“Who? Why?”
“Jamison. Said to call him ASAP.”
Gavin pulled out his phone. He didn’t have a signal. They were in the stupid dead spot, close to where Caleb and Amelia had been taken two-and-a-half years ago. He swore under his breath.
Becca’s hand swatted his shoulder. “Gavin.”
“I don’t have a signal. What if Jocelyn’s been trying to reach me? What if something’s wrong?”
Becca pulled out her phone. “I don’t have a signal either.”
The officer tilted his head. His face scrunched up so much Gavin worried he might implode from thinking too hard. “He spoke so fast it was hard to follow. May have said something about your wife.”
Gavin’s heart stopped. Something was wrong.
“I’ve got to call Jocelyn!”
“Yes, you do.” Becca agreed. “And I’m staying with you.”
“But—” He pointed at the body.
Becca addressed the team from Martinsville. “You guys can handle this until the crime scene unit gets here?”
“Yes, ma’am.” One of the officers saluted her.
“See? Let’s go.”
They took off as fast as they could, which wasn’t terribly fast, through the woods toward the highway. As soon as they reached the edge of the woods, Gavin pulled his phone back up and started hunting for a signal. He walked down the road as Becca talked to the sheriff. A few minutes later she pulled up beside him in the police sedan.
“Get in.”
He hopped in, and Becca drove toward Hazel Hill.
Bing! Gavin’s phone alerted him to a new voicemail. He dialed the number and entered his passcode and put the phone on speaker. He knew if he didn’t Becca would constantly ask what was going on. He had three new messages. The first was from Jocelyn. “Gavin, call me.” His heart sank. She sounded scared and upset.
“Gavin, where are you? Please call me. Ella’s coming over, but I need you. Call me.” Tears flooded his eyes. He hadn’t been there when she needed him.
“ Gavin, it’s Ella. Don’t freak out, but I’m taking Jocelyn to the hospital. Adam said he’s going to try to get a hold of you. You need to get here as soon as you can. Jocelyn’s in labor, and it seems to be progressing fast. Come to the hospital.”
“Drive faster, Becca!”
“I’m already going sixty in a forty five. We’ll get there. Call Ella back.”
He dialed Ella’s cell phone. “Gavin! Finally.”
“How is she?”
“She’s doing great, but you need to get here quickly. She’s laboring crazy fast. This kid is going to be here soon. She’s already at nine centimeters. She’s doing really well, though. Taking it like a champ.”
Becca reached to the dashboard and turned on the hidden lights and the siren.
“Can I talk to her?”
“Yeah, once she’s done with this contraction.”
Gavin could hear his wife’s heavy breathing.
“She’s coming out of it. Here she is.”
Jocelyn’s voice came across the speaker, “Hey, you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Then where are you?”
“On our way. Speeding down the highway now.”
Becca interjected, “Should be there in about twenty minutes.”
“That might not be soon enough,” Jocelyn said.
Becca replied, “Oh, it needs to be, or I’m going to be stupid jealous. I pushed for two hours with Callie. You need to take longer than twenty minutes.”
“We’ll see. But I’m trying not to push. Uh-oh. Gotta… go.”
“Gavin?” Ella was back on the phone. “She’s having another contraction.”
“We’re on our way.” He hung up and leaned forward as much as his seatbelt would let him. “Hurry, Becca. We have to get there. She needs me.” His breathing quickened, and his body shook.
“Gavin, chill out. You have to calm down, okay?” Becca’s hand came to rest on his shoulder. “God is with her. You have to entrust her and the baby to His capable hands. We will get there as soon as we can. I want to be there for her too, but we’re no good to them dead in a ditch.”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. God, please help us get there in time.
Jocelyn rubbed her eyes as she woke up. She was so tired. Her body was beat after such a hard and fast labor, then add on waking up every hour or two to feed the baby all night long and exhaustion didn’t even begin to cover it. She glanced at the bassinet beside the hospital bed, but it was empty. She rolled over and beheld a beautiful sight. There on the couch next to the window, with the light of early dawn peering in, Gavin held their baby out so they were face-to-face. He leaned his forehead down to the tiny infant.
Her heart filled with inexplicable joy. The image of Gavin crashing into the labor and delivery room yesterday afternoon made her chuckle. Sweaty, his hands and the bottom of his suit pants covered in dirt, he still carried the distinct smell of pine from sap on the sleeves of his police jacket. His hair was disheveled from raking his fingers through it for the thirty minutes it took them to get to the hospital. He made it just in time to hold her hand the whole time she pushed, until the doctor had him catch the baby. Now a peace-filled, clean version of Gavin cradled their son.
“Good morning,” she whispered.
Gavin whispered, “Hey!”
“You get any sleep?”
“A little. This is one hungry boy, huh? He had you up like every hour it seemed.”
“Tell me about it. I feel like every time I’d finally doze back off, he’d want to eat again.”
Gavin looked down at the baby. “You’re gonna have to let your momma sleep a bit, buddy.”
Jocelyn smiled. “I agree. Should we finally decide on a name? Everyone is going to ask today.”
“So true.” He pressed his lips together. “I really like David.”
Her smile grew. “That’s what I was thinking. You don’t think it’ll be too corny with Caleb and Amelia’s little guy being Jonathan?”
“I honestly don’t care. David’s story in the Bible has really spoken to me during this time, so I think it fits.”
“Me too.”
He came over and sat on the edge of the bed. She rubbed the baby’s head and pulled Gavin down for a kiss.
Gavin handed Jocelyn her water bottle, as she nursed David. They had been home from the hospital for three days, and all David did was sleep, eat, and poop. “Is he eating okay?”
She laughed. “Stupid-question alert.”
“I feel useless.”
“You got me water. Eventually, I’ll start pumping, and you can feed him a bottle. Okay?”
Gavin ran his hand through his hair and sat. “Okay.”
The doorbell rang.
He let out a huff and stood. Their friends didn’t seem to be able to leave them alone. Gavin walked around the loveseat and opened the front door. “Becca. Come on in.”
Becca shifted her old leather briefcase on her shoulder and walked into the
house. “Unfortunately, I’m not here for a social call. I have information about our case.”
“Thanks for letting me be home, even though we’re in the middle of something.”
“Not a problem. It’s probably better for you to recuse yourself from this case anyway.”
Gavin’s heart stopped. “Why?”
“Let’s sit, and I’ll fill you in on everything I have.”
Gavin closed the door and settled next to Jocelyn on the couch.
Becca sat on the loveseat and pulled a file folder out of her briefcase. “We got an ID on the remains we found. I’m pretty sure it’s no coincidence we were given that clue on the day Jocelyn went into labor.”
Gavin leaned forward. “What do you mean?”
“The remains belong to—” Becca paused and handed him the folder—“Patrick’s first wife.”
Gavin leaned his elbows on his knees as he thumbed through the file.
“No.” Jocelyn’s voice was thin.
Becca cleared her throat. “I’m afraid so. She was definitely murdered too. As soon as the ME had the dental records, he brought in an expert forensic anthropologist. He said there was significant perimortem bruising, but the COD was blunt-force trauma. Basically, she was beaten to death.”
“Patrick has murdered before.”
“Probably, but, of course, there’s no real evidence pointing to him. It’s all assumption and speculation.”
Jocelyn patted David on the back. “Why would he let her be found? You do think he was the one behind the tip?”
Becca nodded. “He’s been in solitary since your house was vandalized, but it is possible someone was sitting on the information waiting to call it in.”
“I don’t understand.” Jocelyn’s voice shook.
Gavin put his arm around her and drew her close.
Becca said, “There’s one more thing.”
Gavin’s stomach dropped. “More?”
“His wife was pregnant.”
“He really didn’t like the idea of babies.” Gavin leaned back against the couch. “I thought they had gotten divorced.”
“Nope.” Becca pressed her hands together in her lap. “He reported her missing and eventually requested she be declared dead. That’s why he was able to marry Jocelyn without a problem.”
“If I had known”—Gavin leaned his head against Jocelyn’s—“I would never have introduced you to him.”
“What’s he going to do next?” Jocelyn’s voice cracked. “Will we ever be free?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
A month and a half later, Jocelyn snuggled a little deeper into the couch with baby David asleep on her shoulder. The first Saturday of December was the perfect time to decorate for Christmas, but she couldn’t bear to put the little guy down to sleep. Gavin had setting up the tree under control anyway.
“You really aren’t going to help, are you?” Gavin said from the other corner of the living room.
“Not right this moment.”
He smiled. “That’s fine. You two look cozy. I got this.”
“I know.”
She watched Gavin move around fixing the branches on their artificial tree. Christmas music played softly in the background. Everything was perfect. They were safe, and, even better, they were together. Patrick hadn’t tried anything more. Hopefully, he was fresh out of ways to torture them, but that would be too good to be true.
It was hard to believe David would be eight weeks old on Tuesday. How was that even possible? He had already changed so much. He was finally going four hours between eating instead of every two like the first two weeks of life. He had even gone for a six-hour stretch last night. Jocelyn almost felt human again.
Gavin had stayed home for two weeks after David was born, and had, thankfully, had an easy case load since. He hadn’t worked Patrick’s first-wife’s murder, which helped. Jocelyn hadn’t returned to work. She loved being a forensic photographer and looked forward to going back in January when Mike moved to a new position, but she loved being a mom more. It would be hard to leave her son, but at least Becca’s sister, Amy, had agreed to watch him.
Gavin came out from behind the Christmas tree. A shadow had fallen across his face.
“What’s wrong?”
“What?”
“You can’t throw me off so easily.”
“I got a weird feeling. I’m probably being paranoid like normal.”
“Are you ever going to learn to listen to the Holy Spirit?”
One side of his mouth curled up. “When I figure out how to tell if it is the Spirit.”
“What are you wondering if He’s saying?”
“To be vigilant.”
“Patrick hasn’t tried anything in almost eight weeks. Why would he do something now?”
“He’s going to be in court on Tuesday.”
Alarm pulsed through her veins. She hugged David a little closer. God, please cover us with Your protection.
Patrick turned his back to the cell door and allowed the guard to cuff his hands. It was court day—Tuesday, December 7. They led him to another little cell where he was required to strip his clothes to be sure he didn’t have a shiv. Once he was dressed again, they re-cuffed him. When the guard pulled on the cuffs to indicate he could back up, he slipped a small piece of metal into Patrick’s hand. A key of sorts. Patrick would need that soon. He squeezed it tight.
The pieces were falling into place. Today was his big day. Everything he had plotted and planned for the past six months was coming together. Everyone would have their guard down after he had gone silent for eight weeks. Shortly after they discovered the body, detectives had come to question him about his first wife’s death, but that hadn’t led to anything more.
His lawyer wasn’t quite as confident as Patrick. But the cops didn’t have anything to connect him to the murder. Oh, and they couldn’t definitively say it was murder. Plenty of people bust open their heads from little falls. They had no crime scene. After all, the cabin had never been as clean as he had made it after killing his first wife. They had no weapon. They had nothing.
Patrick laughed to himself.
“Wipe that smug look off your face, North,” the guard who wasn’t helping him said.
“Why should I? It’s who I am. You can’t take that away from me.”
The guard puffed out an exasperated breath.
Patrick laughed out loud. I wonder…what could I get on this guy? Patrick didn’t know this guard outside of the prison, and the man wasn’t one to shoot the breeze with the inmates. But surely he had a skeleton or two buried in his back forty. Everyone did.
They walked him outside and toward the fifteen-passenger transport van that had been retrofitted to hold prisoners. It was perfect for his plan. Only a few more hours.
Gavin shifted on the hard wooden bench of the courtroom. Why had he come? He didn’t want to see Patrick. He leaned over to Becca, who sat between him and Jared. “I’m gonna go. I shouldn’t be here.”
Becca put her hand on his knee. “You can’t leave.”
“Yes, I can. I should be with Jocelyn and David. Not sitting in here listening to all the horrible things that jerk did.”
Jared leaned forward. “Please stay.”
Gavin turned so he was more fully facing Becca and Jared. “I’m fodder for the defense. I don’t help the case against him. None of us do. He victimized all of us. We’re all too close to this. They aren’t going to accept Adam’s testimony. I can’t even take the stand, and neither can you. He shot you.”
Jared leaned closer. “Don’t you think I know that? And I’d take that bullet again to keep you safe. But we have to see the justice system through.”
“Can it even prevail in this? What if he gets off, or there’s a mistrial? Then what?” Gavin pressed his fist into his other hand. “You know he’ll walk right out of here and kill Jocelyn and me.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“You can’t guarantee that.”
“No, we can’t.” Becca put her hand on Gavin’s back. “But what I can guarantee is God is our warrior. He will fight for us. He is good, and He will watch over you and your family. We have to trust Him, even if we don’t trust the ‘system.’”
Gavin forced himself to relax. God, I choose to worship You now. Take my fear and anxiety about this. Let justice be served.
Doors opened to the right of the judge’s bench. Escorted by two guards, Patrick, dressed in his bright-orange prison garb, came into the room.
Patrick displayed the most arrogant look Gavin had ever seen. A tingling sensation filled his chest. If he wasn’t worried before, he was now. What was Patrick planning this time?
It was time. Patrick tapped his fingers against the other hand and waited to be loaded back onto the transport van. Fire ran through his blood. He was ready. Court had been as abysmal as he had expected. But it was almost worth it to see the ridiculous look on Gavin’s face. He was scared. He was a cop and a grown man, and he was scared. And Gavin should be scared. Patrick laughed.
He had made eye contact with Chet only once in the courtroom. But he nodded. Chet had one assignment—track Gavin’s every move. The man should be given an award for his surveillance skills.
Patrick had seen everyone he needed to. His plan was perfect and would be perfectly executed. And then he could do some executing of his own.
“Come on, North.” His guard pulled him forward.
“Wait.” The other guard put his hand up in front of Patrick. “We didn’t search the van again yet.”
His guard shook his head. “I already did. It’s good.”
The other guard’s eyes narrowed. “All right.”
Patrick and the same two inmates he had ridden with on the way to court were loaded into the van. He sat in the same place he had earlier. As soon as the guards closed the door, Patrick fished his little key out of the seat and began to unlock his cuffs. In quick order, he had his hands free. This was too easy.
They drove down the road. It would take them about five minutes to get to the spot. The next step had taken the biggest blackmail of all. Patrick had walked in on the guy wiping blood off the knife he had just used to kill his own brother. The chump was living with so much remorse he wanted to die. Patrick promised not to report him or tell his family if he’d hold off killing himself until today. There was a chance he would survive what he must do, but that would be his problem, not Patrick’s.
