by Marci Bolden
“Perished?”
“Oftentimes,” she said softly, “the second victim is…a replacement.”
Fredrickson inhaled and let the breath out slowly as he gave Holly a cold stare that didn’t sit quite right with her. Clearly Jack was once again set on edge, because he stood a bit taller, and from the corner of her eye, Holly saw him move his hand an inch or so closer to his gun.
The oxygen seemed to have vanished from the house, sucked out as the atmosphere filled with tension. Fredrickson darted his eyes at Jack but only for a moment before settling his frigid stare on Holly again.
“It’s been nearly five weeks since my wife disappeared, Ms. Austin,” he said. “If you can’t help me—”
“That’s not what she said,” Jack insisted before Holly could respond.
Fredrickson nodded. “If I think of anything, I’ll let you know, but right now… I’ve told her everything.”
“Mr. Fredrickson—” Holly started.
“Go. Get out. Both of you.” His order was soft, buried under the weight of her suggestion that his wife might have died.
“I’m sorry we upset you.” Holly tugged at Jack’s arm as she headed for the door.
Jack followed Holly back to her car, taking long strides to match her determined gait. She climbed into the driver’s side and slammed the door. Once he was in the passenger side, with much less stomping and slamming, he intended to comment on how frustrated he was, too, but she turned and glared at him. The fury on her face cut his words off before he could say them.
“Don’t you ever do that again,” she said through clenched teeth.
Whoa. Wait. What? She was mad at him? “Do what?”
“Defend my goddamned honor, Detective. I can stand up for myself. I don’t need protection, and I don’t need you telling my client that I’m doing everything I can.”
“I wasn’t defending you. I was…”
“What?”
“I had your back, Austin. There’s a difference.”
“Bullshit.” She shoved the key into the ignition. “You put yourself in front of me because you were implying that I am weak. That I couldn’t take care of myself if needed. Would you do that with a man?”
He leaned across the console and grabbed her hand before she could start the engine. “I wasn’t implying a damn thing.”
She knocked his hand away. “The hell you weren’t.”
“Hey, as far as I’m concerned, while we’re working on this case, we’re partners. And nobody is going to get in my partner’s face and accuse her of not doing her job.”
“Your partner can take care of herself. That man is hurting, and he needs someone to blame. If pointing his finger at me alleviates some of that pain, I can take it.” She started the ignition.
“There is something off about him,” Jack warned.
“Yeah. His wife is missing.”
“No, Holly. It goes deeper than that. He’s disturbed.”
She shook her head. “No. He’s upset. And he has an alibi. Rock solid.”
“Maybe he does. Maybe he didn’t hurt her. That day.”
“Are you implying he abused her? There are no indications—”
“There rarely are. Did you check her hospital records?”
“Yes.”
“His police records?”
“Yes. I also interviewed her family and close friends; I even asked them about her marriage, Detective. Just like a real investigator.” As soon as she said the words, she pressed her lips together and her cheeks tinted pink. She glanced around before asking, “What was it about Tuesday that tripped your trigger?”
Jack huffed out a breath. “He said Julia always went shopping on Tuesday. Do you know what day Penelope Nelson was kidnapped?”
Holly exhaled much as he had done, and some of the stiff anger eased out of her posture as curiosity edged out a bit of the fury in her eyes. “Tuesday?”
“Tuesday.”
“That could be significant.”
“Could be. I think we should look into that. Don’t you?”
She returned her attention out the window. “Yes, I do.”
“Me, too.”
“I’ll reach out to the store manager and see how far back his footage goes. Maybe Julia was being followed.”
“And maybe he wasn’t quite as careful in the weeks leading up to her kidnapping,” Jack said. “Hey,” he added in a more neutral tone when she put the car in gear. “I’m sorry if I offended you. My instinct as a cop—as a man,” he admitted, “is to protect my partner. I didn’t mean to imply you can’t handle yourself. You body slammed me a little over twenty-four hours ago. I know you can handle yourself. I’m sorry.”
She nodded, and he assumed she was appeased by his apology, but when she looked at him, the scowl remained on her face.
“Are you done being mad at me?”
She seemed to contemplate his question for a moment. “Are you done treating me like a princess?”
“You’re no princess, Princess.”
Fire lit in her eyes.
And he loved it.
“Asshole,” she muttered, and he laughed as she pulled away from the curb and around the lawn care truck.
“I want to do a stakeout. I want to watch him.”
She groaned. “He did not beat, kidnap, or murder his wife, Tarek. I’ve checked into him. Thoroughly.”
“I believe you. I do,” he said when she opened her mouth. He skimmed her profile, taking in her straight nose and thin lips. He could see how some men wouldn’t take her seriously. When she relaxed the seemingly permanent stress on her face, she looked soft and tender. Not the type of woman who could body slam a man without straining. “I really didn’t mean to imply that you can’t take care of yourself.”
She nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. Men tend to underestimate me. It pisses me off.”
“Which again makes me wonder why Fredrickson hired a female investigator to find his wife. He doesn’t come across as some new-age modern thinker to me. He’s an executive, and they tend to be a bit more old-fashioned. More of the a-good-wife-knows-her-place type. The kind who don’t trust a female to perform as well as a male in this field. So why hire someone he, by nature, expects to fail? Does he not want to find his wife?”
“Jack—”
“Stereotype or not, that kind of guy has been trained by society to view women as inferior. His wife has been missing for five weeks, and instead of going out and finding the most manly male detective he can find, he hires an agency of females. Don’t act like this exact thing hasn’t crossed your mind.”
She pressed her lips together before sighing loudly. “Yes. When he first came to HEARTS, I found it odd that he would seek us out. But,” she stated before he could comment, “after questioning his family and friends and discovering that Julia was the decision-maker and caretaker in their home, I deduced that he came to us because he’s used to women solving his problems.”
“Speaking of their home, did you notice that nothing was out of place? Not even a photo of Julia. Everything was perfect.”
“He has a maid that comes in once a week.”
“What day?”
Holly bit at her lip for a moment. “Thursdays.”
“Today is Wednesday. It’s been six days since the maid was there. In six days, he didn’t once pick up a photo of his missing wife and stare at her image, wondering where she is?”
She shook her head firmly. “He lives in that house. He knows how to set a frame back to the right position.”
“Or maybe he isn’t as concerned as he wants everyone to believe. Maybe—”
“Maybe he killed his wife and buried her in the basement and I’m just too stupid to figure it out?”
He glanced at her. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“That’s what it sounds like you’re saying.” She stopped at a stop sign and turned to stare at him instead of checking to see if the intersection was clear. “It sounds like you’re still convi
nced that I can’t put two and two together. Did you see the pain in his eyes? Did you see his soul shatter when he realized that I was telling him that his wife might already be dead?”
“Maybe it wasn’t his soul shattering, Austin. Maybe it was fear that you’d figure out he’s a very bad man.”
“Jesus,” she said under her breath before checking for cross traffic and pulling from the stop.
“Something is wrong with him, Holly. Something is very wrong with him. You’re just not seeing it. Maybe he didn’t kill Julia and bury her in the basement, but there’s something going on inside him that isn’t sitting right with me. I’m doing a stakeout. With or without you.”
She let out a long breath. “You’re so freaking impossible.”
Jack grinned. “You have no idea.”
4
The Nelsons’ house was nothing like Julia and Eric’s. The Fredricksons bordered on upper middle class. The Nelsons’ small house was a bit rundown, but they clearly took pride in their home. Though the vinyl siding could have used a power wash, the yard was immaculate.
Jack pointed to the nearly identical house next door. “That’s my mother’s place.”
A strange sense of warmth touched Holly’s chest. “You grew up there?”
“Just high school. She couldn’t afford to buy a house until I was older.”
“It’s nice.”
“She worked hard for it.”
The pride in his voice made her turn toward him. “I’m sorry I snapped. I just don’t like being coddled. By anyone, but most especially by men.”
“I’m sure being a female in the Army made that a sore spot.”
“I appreciate you considering my safety.”
Jack chuckled. “I’d believe that if you sounded the least bit sincere when you said it.”
“I am sincere. Now let me return the favor. You’re not supposed to be on this case. If you go in there, Mr. Nelson could tell the lead detective you paid him a visit and get you in trouble. Let me handle this.”
He looked at the Nelsons’ house and let out a long breath. “I promised Mom—”
“I know you did. But she wouldn’t want you to get written up. Would she?”
A wistful smile caused his dimple to deepen. “She’d probably try to ground me for a month.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want that.”
“I’ll take the risk. We’re a team, Austin. We’re doing this together.”
“Not if it costs your job.” She looked at his mother’s house. “Is she home?”
“She will be soon.”
“Go wait for her. I’ll come over when I’m done.” She didn’t give him a chance to argue before climbing from her car and heading toward the three steps that led to the porch. She knocked and stepped to the side, waiting for an answer. A tall, thin man opened the door. She recognized Gary Nelson from the photo in Jack’s file.
The stress of the last week was evident in the sadness in Mr. Nelson’s eyes and the disheveled brown hair sticking out in every direction. Just as with the houses, the contrast between the husbands was stark. Fredrickson was so well put together on the outside, even weeks after his wife had disappeared. Nelson was obviously distraught. Perhaps the contrast between the men was why Jack was so convinced Eric had something to do with Julia’s disappearance.
Holly smiled, but Mr. Nelson looked beyond her.
“Afternoon, Jack,” he said.
She held in the disapproving sigh that threatened to escape her when Jack stepped onto the porch.
“Gary.” Jack stopped at Holly’s side. “This is Holly Austin, the private investigator I talked to you about.”
He nodded slightly in greeting. “Ms. Austin. Come on in. Ignore the barking. I’ve locked them away.”
She greeted him with a handshake before accepting his invitation to enter his home. As she stepped inside, she glanced back at Jack, giving him an exaggerated scowl. He couldn’t have missed her face, but his soft smile remained as if he hadn’t noticed her irritation. Inside, the house was cluttered. Not dirty, but clearly Gary Nelson hadn’t kept up appearances as Eric Fredrickson had. Of course, the Fredricksons had a maid. One that Jack had pointed out hadn’t been in the home for almost a full week.
Julia’s home was neat and tidy, as if all were right in the world. Penelope’s home was a reflection of the chaos her husband was likely feeling. Mail had been piled on the coffee table next to an empty glass and half-eaten sandwich.
“Did we interrupt your lunch?” Holly asked, despite the time. Nearly three thirty in the afternoon.
Gary moved around them toward the leftover food. “No. I just hadn’t…” He gathered the dirty dishes and shrugged slightly. “Penelope is always telling me to clean up after myself. She’s not my mother. So she says.” His quiet laugh was more sad than amused.
Holly watched him leave the room before turning to Jack. “What are you doing?” she asked under her breath.
“Questioning a witness,” he whispered in return.
“Risking your job.”
“He knows me.”
The shuffling of Gary’s feet drew her attention from Jack. She’d tried to protect the idiot. If he got in trouble for meddling in this case, that was on him. Idiot.
“Sit,” Gary said. “Please.”
Holly and Jack eased onto the sofa, but it was Holly who sat forward, commanding his attention. Taking control of the interview.
“Mr. Nelson, I am so sorry for what you and your family are going through.”
“It’s just me,” he said. “We wanted kids, but the time never seemed right.” He gestured toward the back of the house. “That’s why she keeps getting those damn dogs. I told her she needs to stop volunteering at the shelter, but she won’t listen. She brought home that damn pug right before she disappeared. He won’t quit pissing on the carpet. Every time they told her a sad story about one of their dogs, she wanted to rescue it. And they told her a lot of sad stories.”
She smiled at his attempt at humor, but her ears had perked. She didn’t recall reading anything about Penelope being a shelter volunteer in Jack’s notes. “How often did she volunteer?”
“A few times a week. She cleaned out kennels and”—he chuckled—“scooped the poop out of the play area. I told her there had to be better ways to help the world be a better place, but she said she didn’t mind.”
“When did she adopt the pug?”
He shrugged. “Two weeks ago. His name is Elvis because he curls his lip up.”
“Well, I’m sure she found that hard to resist. How had Penelope been acting? Was she nervous about anything? Worried?”
Gary shook his head. “No. Nothing like that.”
“Was she working any more or less than usual?”
“No.”
“Had she had any problems with anyone?”
Gary glanced at Jack. “No.”
Holly tilted her head slightly. “Have you had problems with anyone lately?”
He hesitated. “No.”
Jack leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Gary?”
“Anything you say to us stays between us,” Holly said. “We aren’t here to judge. We just want to find your wife.”
Gary glanced at Jack again, and Holly caught on to his hesitation.
She focused on the cop sitting beside her. “Didn’t you say you were going to check in with your mom?”
Jack lifted a brow at her. “No.”
“I really think you should check in with your mom,” she stated. She widened her eyes for emphasis when he didn’t stand.
Finally Jack rose. “Excuse me, Gary. I need to check in with my mom.”
Gary didn’t say anything as Jack left. Once the door was closed, however, he looked at his hands.
“Sometimes we don’t want the neighbors to know our business,” she said gently. “I get that, but if you know anything that could help us find Penelope, you have to tell me.”
“And you’ll tell Jack, and
he’ll tell his mother—”
“No. This isn’t about gossip. Jack’s a cop. A good one. He knows how to keep his mouth shut.”
Gary eyed her. “But do you?”
Holly held his stare before nodding. “It would be in Penelope’s best interest if Jack and I shared everything, but if you need confidence, then you have it. I won’t tell Jack, but you have to tell me. Mr. Nelson. I can’t solve the puzzle if I don’t have all the pieces.”
“Jack suggested I go through her e-mail. He said I might find something. Boy, did I ever,” he said, his tone taking on a hard edge.
“What did you find?” She frowned when he simply shook his head. “Between us. Okay? I won’t tell Jack.”
“He’s going to want to know why you sent him away.”
“I’ll tell him I couldn’t get it out of you. Do you want me to find her?”
“Of course.”
Holly all but begged him. “Then give me all the pieces of the puzzle.”
“She’d been…seeing someone.”
Holly wasn’t surprised, but she was sympathetic. She’d seen far too many people realize they were being cheated on. “Do you know who?”
“I didn’t recognize his name.”
“Have you told the police this?”
He shook his head.
“You should, Mr. Nelson. They aren’t going to judge you either. We all just want to bring her home. Can you show me the e-mails? I won’t share them with anyone,” she assured him when he looked as if he would refuse.
“Yeah. Okay.” He shoved the stack of bills aside and revealed a tablet buried underneath.
As he booted it up, Holly did a quick scan of the bills, many of them stamped as being the final notice. Without giving it a second thought, she grabbed one of the envelopes and stared at the logo in the top left corner. Appleseed Landscaping. The same company the Fredricksons used.
“I don’t know how we got on their mailing list,” Gary said. “They’re always sending coupons and discounts trying to get our business. I pay the guy next door to mow. He charges a quarter of the cost.”
“You’ve never used them?”
“No.” He held the tablet out to her. “That’s all of them. I put them in a folder.”
