“I prefer to coordinate efforts with local law enforcement whenever possible. Is there someone on your team that can accompany me to the Lee residence?”
Refusing to get her hopes up, Peyton kept her eyes on the table in front of her as she waited for Nessa’s response. She was eager to work on the case but doubted Nessa would trust her with such an important, potentially high-profile assignment.
“Detective Bell can go with you.” Nessa turned to Peyton. “I’ll let Ingram know you’ve been re-assigned until further notice.”
Peyton felt a pang of worry for Ruby Chase.
“Wouldn’t Jankowski or Vanzinger make more sense?” she asked.
“They’re already on the trafficking task force, and actively working the Astrid Peterson homicide,” Nessa reminded her.
“Besides, Ling Lee knows you,” she added. “And she told me how much she appreciated your work on the Greyson case. She thought your response likely saved her life. I think she’ll feel more comfortable if you join Deputy Marshal Santino.”
Before Peyton could get up to join Santino at the door, Nessa leaned forward and grabbed her hand.
“This assignment is strictly confidential, Detective Bell,” she said, holding Peyton’s gaze. “You tell no one what you’ve heard here without my explicit permission. And that goes double for telling Ingram.”
Blinking at Nessa in surprise, Peyton nodded.
“Let’s go, then,” Santino said, opening the door for Peyton. “I want to get to Ling Lee before anyone else does.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The damp chill in the morning air didn’t bother Ling Lee as she sat on the little patio. She had wrapped a fuzzy wool shawl around her shoulders before going into the back garden to get some fresh air, and the sun was already starting to warm up the winter day. A few birds had even ventured down to peck at the feeder.
It’ll be back in the eighties next week. We’ll all be wearing shorts again.
But optimistic thoughts of the future were hard to sustain with everything going on, and images from the past kept pushing forward, demanding Ling’s attention.
The aging faces of her mother and father hovered at the edge of her memory. They were her biggest regret. She’d had to give them up to save herself and her child, sacrificing her connection with the previous generation to secure the survival of the next.
If only I’d listened to my mother. If only I’d followed her advice.
Those pointless words had echoed in her head for the last twenty-eight years, and they still managed to sting.
She’d been so young and sure of herself when she’d left home, headed for college and the secrets of the world outside her family’s modest home. Her parents had been worried, and yet, so proud of their little girl, unaware they were sending her into the path of a predator who would take her away from them forever.
Gripping the arm of her chair in remembered agony, Ling replayed the last phone call she’d made to her parents after realizing her only hope of escape was to disappear into the witness protection program.
She’d known then if Locke had the chance, he would try to use them against her, and she couldn’t let them suffer for her mistakes. She’d decided it was safest for them all to let her parents live out the rest of their lives without looking over their shoulders.
“If anything were to happen to me, remember I love you, and that I had a good life. You were great parents. You did everything right.”
She’d wanted to be brave, but her voice had trembled as she realized she might never speak to them again.
Many times during her first few years in Willow Bay she had been tempted to call them. To tell them she was alive, and that they still had a beautiful, smart granddaughter who was safe and healthy.
But she’d known that would be too dangerous. If Locke remotely suspected she was still alive, he would be listening and watching for any sign of her. She would be putting them in danger, along with herself and her young daughter. No, it was best if they knew nothing.
And then suddenly they’d been gone, dying within months of each other. Ling hadn’t found out until long after any funeral services had been held. She couldn’t have gone even if she had known.
Feeling then that the remaining ties to her previous life had been irrevocably cut, Ling had gone on, hiding the truth from everyone around her, even her own daughter.
Now it’s time to face the past. I have to make sure Veronica understands just how dangerous her father is. She has to know the truth.
After the article in the Gazette, Ling figured that everyone in town would eventually learn the truth whether she liked it or not. The ability to keep her secret any longer had been taken away from her.
What she couldn’t understand was how Mackenzie Jensen had found out about her past. How had the journalist gotten hold of the pictures and details of a life she’d buried under decades of time?
“Ma?” Veronica’s strained voice called from the back door. “There are people here to see you.”
Pushing herself up and off the chair, Ling drew the shawl closer around her small body, a chill that had nothing to do with the weather coursing through her.
A handsome man stood next to Detective Peyton Bell in the foyer. Not much taller than the detective, the man was lean and fit. His dark hair brushed the collar of his shirt, giving him a casual air, although his strong jaw was clean-shaven.
“Ms. Lee? I’m Deputy Marshal Vic Santino, a criminal investigator with the U.S. Marshal Service.” He held Ling’s eyes as he spoke, as if he wanted to make sure she understood what he was saying. “I’ve asked the local police to partner with the USMS on this situation, and they’ve assigned Detective Bell to the case.”
Ling looked over at Peyton and nodded, relieved to see Nessa had assigned the same detective who had helped save her from Zander Greyson. Peyton had been sharp and persistent, as well as kind.
Nothing like that oaf of a partner she’s been saddled with.
Opening the front door, Hunter Hadley let Gracie trot inside first, then removed the jacket he’d put on to take the Lab out for a walk. He turned to shake hands with Santino and Peyton.
“Ms. Lee, we really need to talk about the situation right away,” Santino said, giving Hunter an uncomfortable glance. “It’s a sensitive matter, so if we could speak alone…”
“This is Hunter Hadley,” Ling said, moving across the hall to rest a proprietary hand on Hunter’s arm. “He’s like family to me, and I’d like him and my daughter to stay. They need to hear this as well.”
Santino hesitated, then turned to Hunter and Veronica, who stood together in the hall beside Gracie.
“The information I’m about to share must be kept completely confidential,” Santino said, his voice taking on a serious tone that sent a shiver down Ling’s back. “It could very well be the difference between life and death.”
The fear in Veronica’s bright green eyes told Ling that her daughter knew just how dangerous the situation was, but the stubborn tilt to her chin said she was ready to do anything necessary to protect her mother.
“Do you both understand?” Santino asked, searching their faces. “Can you take that risk and make that kind of commitment?”
“I’m an investigative reporter,” Hunter said, then nodded at Veronica. “We both are, actually, and we’re used to protecting our sources at any cost.”
Santino raised an eyebrow.
“Reporters? I’m supposed to brief two reporters?”
He looked over at Peyton, who shrugged.
“I trust them both with my life,” Ling said, stepping in front of Veronica and Hunter. “They’ve already saved it once, and I’m sure they would do anything humanly possible to do so again.”
“We’re putting the lives of anyone involved in the case on the line as well,” Santino said, still skeptical despite Ling’s words. “If the case is compromised, the fugitive we’re after wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone who gets in his way.”
Walking toward the living room, Ling motioned for Santino and the others to follow.
“Let’s get started, Deputy Santino. We don’t have much time.”
She was relieved to see the deputy exhale deeply and nod to Peyton. There was no way she could keep her daughter in the dark any longer, and she couldn’t let Veronica go through this without Hunter’s support.
Ling settled onto the sofa, reassured to see Winston nestled into his favorite spot on the windowsill. Some things hadn’t changed.
“So, do you think my ex-husband will find out I’m still alive, now that the information has been published in the newspaper?”
Her question brought a troubled grimace to Santino’s face. He rubbed his hands together, as if trying to figure out how to tackle a particularly difficult problem.
“Ms. Lee, your ex-husband already knows you’re alive,” Santino finally said. “I suspect he provided the photos and information used in the news article. And there’s reason to believe he is already here in Willow Bay.”
Gasping at his words, Ling tried to speak, but her throat constricted in fear. After all these years of hiding, Locke had finally come for her.
“What reasons?” Veronica asked, sitting next to Ling and taking her mother’s hand. “How can you know?”
“The body that was found yesterday in Old Willow Square had two IDs on it,” Peyton said, stepping forward. “One ID belonged to the victim, and the other…the other was an old University of California ID issued in the name of Lisa Li.”
Clutching Veronica’s hand, Ling stared up into Peyton’s face.
“He’s killed someone already?” she whispered, wondering if this was all just a bad dream. “Someone from Willow Bay?”
Dread wormed its way into her stomach.
“Who is it?” she moaned. “Who did Locke kill?”
“Astrid Peterson,” Veronica muttered in a dazed voice. “He killed a young college student named Astrid Peterson.”
Ling turned to Veronica in confusion.
“How do you know?”
“She was a woman that tried to ask me for help,” Veronica said, swallowing back a sob. “I didn’t know it was my….my father that she was trying to escape. I tried to help her, but…”
Pulling Veronica into a hug, Ling attempted to comfort her, even though she knew this was just the beginning. More pain was sure to come. Locke would see to that.
“Your ex-husband put that ID on the victim’s body for a reason, just like he dumped the body in the middle of town for a reason.”
Santino spoke directly to Ling, his voice hard.
“He meant it to be a message. He’s telling you, and everyone helping you, that he’s coming for you, and that he’ll kill anyone who gets in his way.”
“So, what’s the plan then?” Hunter asked. “Have you arranged for her to go into hiding?”
Jumping to her feet at the words, Veronica shook her head.
“Why should my mother have to give up her life again because of that man?” Her voice shook with fury as she turned to Santino. “She’s been living in fear all this time. Why can’t you all just find him and…and kill him?”
Ling stood and gathered Veronica into her arms.
“It’s okay, Ronnie,” she soothed. “I don’t mind. As long as I know you’re safe, and I’m not risking anyone else, I’ll be fine.”
Santino cleared his throat.
“I’m working on bringing together a task force, as well as arranging for a temporary safe house. In the meantime, we’ve positioned a patrol outside, and we’ll keep an officer assigned to Ms. Lee’s protection.”
Catching Hunter’s eye, Ling tried to smile.
“I’ll take Ronnie in the kitchen and make some coffee,” she said, trying to keep her voice light. “It may be a long day.”
Hunter’s eyes fell on the copy of the Willow Bay Gazette discarded on the floor and clenched his hand into a fist.
“And I’m going to find out how Mackenzie Jensen got hold of that photo.” His voice vibrated with anger. “She must have a source. Maybe if we find the source, we’ll find Locke.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Willow Bay Gazette’s main office was located in the heart of downtown on the corner of Central and Park Avenue, but the front doors were locked, and the lights were out inside the lobby when Hunter arrived.
Pulling on the big glass doors in frustration, he stared into the dark interior, and then circled around the building, looking for the employee entrance. He knew the lobby might be closed to the public on the weekend, but there had to be some staff inside hard at work.
They’ve got to be in there getting the Sunday edition ready.
A metal door flung open just as he turned the corner, and a group of women stepped outside, their voices raised in lunchtime chatter.
“Excuse me,” called Hunter, holding up a hand.
The conversation abruptly stopped as the women turned to stare at Hunter. He didn’t see the woman he was looking for in the group.
“Do any of you know if Mackenzie Jensen’s working today?”
Giving Hunter an appreciative smile, a tall woman in a bright pink blazer and knee-high boots stepped forward with a nod.
“Mackenzie’s always working,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “But I think she already went out for lunch.”
A giggle erupted behind her, but the woman ignored the other women as Hunter turned to survey the area with impatient eyes.
“Why does Mackenzie always get the cute ones?”
Realizing the woman in the boots and pink blazer had spoken, and was still staring at him, Hunter shook his head.
“Oh, no, I’m not a…a friend of hers,” he explained. “I need to speak to Ms. Jensen about one of her stories.”
The woman gave him a knowing smile and a wink. A young woman in a yellow sweater and high ponytail stepped out of the group and pointed toward the Starbucks across the street.
“I think Mackenzie went to get a coffee with a friend.”
“She has lots of friends,” the woman in the pink blazer said with a trace of envy. “Mackenzie’s a lucky girl.”
But Hunter didn’t hear her wistful remark. He was already jogging across the pavement toward the Starbucks.
Waiting impatiently for a black SUV to roll by, Hunter crossed the street and hurried to the door of the coffee shop. The warm, rich smell of coffee enveloped him as he stepped inside, his eyes immediately searching for Mackenzie Jensen among the little tables scattered around the cozy shop.
He’d almost given up and turned for the door when he saw her slim figure standing by the counter in the back. She was talking to a man who had his back to the room, and it wasn’t until Hunter was halfway across the room that he realized who the man was.
Garth Bixby must have sensed Hunter come up behind him. He turned around, already wearing a wide smile. Hunter tried to think if he’d ever seen the man without one.
The guy must sleep with a smile on his face.
Bixby was oblivious to Hunter’s scowl. He threw an arm around Hunter’s shoulders and raised his cup of coffee as if making a toast.
“Congratulations are in order, Mr. Hadley!”
Shaking off the man’s arm, Hunter stared at Bixby in confusion.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your father’s re-election is in the bag, now, thanks to Ms. Jensen’s brilliant reporting,” Bixby gushed, throwing a broad wink at Mackenzie. “There’s no way the citizens of Willow Bay will vote for a woman who’s lied about her own name and background.”
A shrill ring sounded in Bixby’s pocket and he dug out his phone.
“I gotta take this,” he said, heading toward the exit with a distracted wave. “The boss is calling.”
“That could be Mayor Hadley, or it could be his wife,” Mackenzie said in a dry voice after Bixby was gone. “She’s got him on a tight leash.”
Looking up at him with a smile that didn’t quite reach her
eyes, Mackenzie took a long sip from her cup, then sighed.
“Do you have a problem with me, Mr. Hadley?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. “Did my little story make your girlfriend mad?”
“Was that your intention?”
Hunter tried to keep his voice calm. He suspected Mackenzie would enjoy knowing she’d gotten to him.
“I’m just doing my job and informing the public,” she said, sipping again from her cup. “I couldn’t let our voters elect someone with a shady past, could I? Someone who isn’t who she claims to be.”
Hunter wasn’t about to take her bait and start arguing.
She’d love to get an angry quote from me to use in tomorrow’s edition.
He had to remember that nothing mattered now except finding Donovan Locke and ensuring he could no longer be a threat to Veronica, her mother, or any other woman who might fall into his clutches.
“Where’d you get your information, Mackenzie?”
“My source has requested to remain anonymous, and I can't reveal anything about the individual.” The journalist’s eyes widened in mock outrage behind her glasses. “That would be unethical.”
Shaking his head in frustration, Hunter tried again. She obviously didn’t understand the gravity of the situation.
“Listen, Mackenzie,” he said, stepping closer. “For your own safety, you need to tell me who gave you this information.”
“Sorry, Mr. Hadley,” she responded, looking up with a satisfied gleam in her eyes. “But I never reveal a source. It’s bad for business.”
Hunter shook his head, trying to keep his cool.
“Unless…”
He narrowed his eyes at the word.
“Unless what?”
“Well, I do loosen up after a few drinks,” she said, swaying closer, so that she was only inches away. “You could take me to dinner tonight and we can…see what happens.”
Taking a step back, Hunter crossed his arms over his chest.
“That’s never going to happen.”
Mackenzie shrugged.
“Okay, then how about we cut to the chase and you offer me a special correspondent gig over at Channel Ten. I’d look great on camera, and I could boost your ratings.”
Her Winter of Darkness Page 15