Close to Home: A Bear and Mandy Logan Mystery (Bear & Mandy Logan Book 1)

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Close to Home: A Bear and Mandy Logan Mystery (Bear & Mandy Logan Book 1) Page 4

by L. T. Ryan


  “What’s the other half?”

  She grinned. “That’s what I’m tryin’ to figure out.”

  “You think you’ll do better at questioning me?”

  She shrugged. “My chances are higher.” Her gaze returned to the fridge. She pointed. “You been to all these places?”

  “And a lot more.” Bear sipped his drink. “You from here?”

  McKinnon looked surprised by the return volley. “Nah. Grew up in Mississippi.”

  “New York must be culture shock.”

  “The city, maybe. Only thing that shocks me ‘round here is the cold.” She frowned. “People are the same wherever you go.”

  Bear noted the sadness in her voice. “That’s bleak.”

  She looked up at him. “You disagree?”

  “No,” he said. “I don’t.”

  She studied him for a moment. “Don’t like me very much, do you?”

  “Actually, I do.” He sat across from her and set his beer down. The condensation collected on the table’s surface. He made a mental note to buy coasters. “But I don’t like cops very much.”

  “Why not?”

  He gave a half laugh. “You think most people do?”

  “Not sure. I think most people respect a cop’s authority, whether or not they like them.”

  “Respect or fear?”

  “Touché.” She took a sip, then looked him dead in the eye. “But the people who don’t respect their authority are the ones who have something to hide. And the people who don’t fear that authority definitely do.”

  “And you think I fall into the latter category?”

  “Can’t imagine you’re afraid of much, but I think you have something to hide.” She didn’t break eye contact. “Then again, most of us do. Just feel like your secret is bigger than the average, uh, bear’s.”

  Bear smiled as he resisted shifting in his seat. There was no way he would let her in on the fact that she was hitting close to home. “You know I had nothing to do with that body out back.”

  “Yup.”

  “Then why do you have to know where I came from and what I’m doing here? It’s irrelevant.”

  “Because I’m trying to figure out if I can trust you.” She tipped her bottle back and drained the rest of her beer. “You’re smart. Observant. You’re military.” She winked when his eyebrows shot up. “Don’t act so surprised. You all have a certain look. It’s hard to hide. My guess is people are lucky to have you on their side. I’m sure that little girl buried out back would be happy to have you working for her.”

  “I’m not trying to get involved.”

  “You’re involved, whether you like it or not. Sooner we figure out what’s going on, the sooner we can get out of your—” Her phone buzzed. She looked down at the number and frowned. “Excuse me. I have to take this.”

  As the sheriff stepped into the other room, Bear finished his own beer and rinsed out the bottles. He placed them next to the sink, making another mental note that he needed a recycling bin. He put it on the same list as the coasters. There were so many odds and ends they needed, he could hardly keep track of them in his head. Owning a house was an exhausting, never-ending list of chores.

  He heard McKinnon’s muffled conversation through the wall, but couldn’t pick out any words. The wind rattled a window in the living room. A creak in the floorboard upstairs told him Mandy was making her way from the bathroom to her bedroom, settling in for the night. The house popped as though it were stretching out its limbs after a long, hard day of standing upright. He could relate.

  McKinnon reentered the room. Her jaw was clenched, and the crease between her eyebrows had deepened to a ravine. She didn’t meet Bear’s eyes when she spoke. “I gotta go.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Not sure.” She slipped a card out of her pocket and set it on the table. “This is my number if you find anything else. I’ll follow up with you soon.” She finally looked up. Straight into his eyes. “Please think about it. Helping, I mean. Your daughter isn’t much older than that girl out there. Her parents deserve to know what happened to her, even after all this time. If you think of anything that might point us in the right direction, no matter how crazy it sounds, call me.” A sad smile found its way to her face. “I’ll try to rein in the questionings, but old habits and all that, ya’ know?”

  “Yeah,” Bear said. “Old habits.”

  7

  The next morning, Bear watched Mandy get on the school bus before walking out the back door and surveying the yard. There had been a dozen people traipsing across his property yesterday, and they’d left an impact. Footprints, additional upturned earth, and a pair of latex gloves. He shook his head. So much for the integrity of a crime scene.

  Bear snatched up the gloves, then grabbed his rake and put all the loose debris from the yard into a garbage bag. The troopers had taped off the immediate area around the tank with yellow caution tape. Even though they had gathered what they could, they had instructed Bear not to cross the line or disturb anything else.

  McKinnon had been right about the rain. Around midnight, a storm had swept through. The troopers had the wherewithal to close the tank’s lid before leaving for the night, but Bear figured there had to be an extra inch of rainwater inside. Now that it was dug up, it’d be difficult for the elements not to affect it further.

  As he was contemplating what to do about his vegetable garden, his phone rang. He had programmed McKinnon’s number into it last night, despite swearing to himself he wouldn’t get involved. But it looked like she wasn’t giving him a choice. He picked up right before it went to voicemail.

  “Mr. Logan? It’s Sheriff McKinnon.”

  “Sheriff.” He didn’t bother keeping the resignation out of his voice. “What’s happening?”

  “I wanted to apologize for last night.” She sounded like she was navigating uncharted territory, like she wasn’t used to apologizing to potential suspects, however unlikely their guilt might be. “For leaving so abruptly.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for.” Bear could feel her tension through the phone. Curiosity got the better of him. “Everything okay?”

  “That’s why I was calling.” Her tone was higher than last night, and the words rushed, almost slurred together. “Wondering if you’d have coffee with me.”

  “Is this a proposition, Sheriff?” He joked, despite the situation. “Or is it under the pretense of arresting me?”

  “Neither.” McKinnon didn’t sound like she was in the mood for jokes today. “I have something I wanted to run by you. If you’ve got a minute.”

  Bear hesitated. He could feel himself walking closer to the point of no return. If he said yes, then he’d bury himself deeper in the case. If he said no, it might look suspicious. He wasn’t sure which was worse, but there was something in McKinnon’s voice that told him she was on her own precipice. He didn’t want to be the reason she slipped and fell. “Yeah, I can do with some coffee.”

  Twenty minutes later, Bear sat across from McKinnon at a small coffee shop in town. It was the kind of café that carried all sorts of fancy mixtures and picture-perfect cupcakes. The barista almost didn’t know what to do when he ordered his coffee black. McKinnon took hers with enough cream to turn it white.

  “How’s your day so far?” she asked when they sat down.

  “Other than your boys ruining my yard?” He took a sip of his drink and shrugged. “Coffee’s good.”

  “They’re not my boys.” She softened. “But I am sorry about that.”

  “I’m just annoyed I’ll have to find a new spot for my garden.”

  “How did Mandy handle the news?”

  Bear kept a straight face. “She’s a tough kid. Curious. Wants to know what I’m going to do about it.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” McKinnon took a sip of her coffee, her eyes wide with intrigue.

  He’d thought about that on the way over. “What do you know about the house? Its his
tory? Everyone who lived there before me?”

  “Not much. At least no personal stories. House had been on the market for a year or two before someone bought it, but they never moved in. Kinda assumed it was a second house for a bigwig who aspired to fix it up but never got around to it. Then you bought it.”

  “What about before that? Ten, fifteen years ago.”

  McKinnon wrapped both hands around her mug as though she could soak in every molecule of heat through her palms. “A man named Jeremy Olsen. He worked for HealTek, like most people ‘round here do.”

  “That’s the pharmaceutical company?” When McKinnon nodded, Bear asked, “What happened to him?”

  “Died a couple years ago. Cancer.” She leaned forward. “That’s why I asked you here.”

  “To talk about Jeremy Olsen?”

  “No, to talk about cancer. And teen suicide. The death rates for this county are astronomical.”

  Bear shrugged. “It’s a small town. Largest hospital is forty-five minutes away. From what I’ve seen, only a few people are well off. Everyone else is working themselves to the bone just to survive and provide for their kids. That’s bound to influence your health.”

  “It’s more than that.” McKinnon looked around. No one was paying attention to them, but she leaned in closer, and her voice dropped to a notch above a whisper. “I mean astronomical. We have one of the highest cancer rates in the United States. We’ve had a few journalists come out here and poke around, but after a few days, they leave.”

  Now Bear was interested. “Paid off?”

  She shrugged. “Don’t know.”

  “But you have a hunch.”

  McKinnon doubled down. “I don’t know anything. Not yet anyway.”

  “You think this has something to do with the girl?”

  McKinnon sighed. “There are a couple missing children’s cases from ten to fifteen years ago. She’s likely one of them. Won’t know until we test her hair, though.”

  “But?” Bear didn’t enjoy having to pull the thoughts from the woman’s head. “We both know you have your theories. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have asked me to get coffee.”

  McKinnon looked around one more time. Bear recognized a few faces in the café, but he didn’t know their names. It wasn’t like going to Georgie’s. This was a younger crowd. A few college kids home from school, catching up on their work over a croissant. He and McKinnon were by far the oldest in there. Even if she was younger, her sheriff’s uniform would’ve ensured she stood out.

  “Not here.” She stood up. “Got something to show you.”

  Bear didn’t move. He felt himself on the edge of the cliff again. The more his curiosity dragged him forward, the more he dug his heels in. He just wanted to keep his head down. Keep Mandy safe. Stay off the radar. But he could smell trouble from a mile away, and McKinnon was stirring it up. It saturated the surrounding air. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t already have its stench on him.

  Besides, he’d rather know what he was up against. If this was too big, at least he’d have a heads up before it went south. He and Mandy would be halfway across the States before it crashed down on the small hamlet. They’d be long gone. They’d be safe.

  Bear stood up, too. “Lead the way.”

  8

  Mandy and Laura Lynn occupied a table on the far side of the cafeteria, well away from their peers. They both had their backs to the wall—Mandy, so she didn’t have to live with the tingle that raced up and down her spine if she couldn’t see what was behind her, and Laura Lynn so she could observe her classmates and make passing comments about this person’s new shoes or that person’s favorite subject. She knew so much about people just by sitting and observing. Mandy made a mental note that her new friend would make an excellent spy. But she’d have to toughen up first.

  Thoughts of spies and secret societies vacated her mind the second Marcus walked into the room. He scanned the tables, trying to figure out where to sit. Mandy stood on top of her chair and waved him over. He looked startled and even checked behind him to see if she was pointing to someone else. She shook her head and put her hands on her hips. He made his way to their table.

  Laura Lynn stayed quiet, watching the interaction with wide eyes.

  Marcus stopped short at the table but didn’t sit down. “Uh. Hi.”

  “Hi.” Mandy pointed to a chair. “Go on. Sit.”

  He slid his tray onto the table and plopped into his seat. His lunch consisted of a sandwich, an apple, some milk, and a bag of healthy-looking chips. Mandy looked down at her half-eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwich and sighed.

  “You look scared,” Laura Lynn said, staring at Marcus.

  “Oh, well.” He looked around the room, then back at Mandy. “You did kinda beat someone up yesterday.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not going to beat you up,” she said.

  Marcus scoffed. “I know that.” He relaxed. “So, does this mean we’re friends now?”

  “Sure.” Mandy shrugged, but it sent a thrill through her. She had just doubled her number of allies. “If you want to be.”

  “It’s certainly in my best interest.” Marcus wore another button-down shirt today. He looked like an old man stuck in a kid’s body. He cleared his throat. “Thanks for yesterday, by the way.”

  Mandy shrugged again. “No big deal.”

  “But you got in trouble.”

  “I’ve been in worse.” She hoped that made her sound mysterious and cool. It’s not like it was a lie, either. “Just sucks I have to spend a month sitting next to Pete.”

  “He used to be nice,” Laura Lynn said. “He gave me his orange Jell-O in second grade.”

  “Well, he’s not nice now.” Marcus took a violent bite of his apple. “He’s a dick.”

  “Why does he hate you so much?” Mandy asked.

  “I wouldn’t let him cheat off me in math class.” Marcus chuckled. A little dribble of juice ran down his chin, and he wiped it away with a napkin. “They would’ve figured out something was going on if he got all the answers right. I wasn’t going to risk my grades for him. Why can’t he just do the work like the rest of us?”

  “His dad is mean.” Laura Lynn’s voice was far away. “My mom says he has a troubled home life.”

  “Yeah, well, doesn’t mean he has to take it out on me.” Marcus took another bite of his apple and chewed contemplatively before swallowing and turning his attention back to Mandy. “Speaking of trouble. What was going on at your house yesterday?”

  Mandy looked away. “What do you mean?”

  “All those cop cars? Everyone’s talking about it.”

  Her head snapped up. “They are? What are they saying?”

  “They said it was because you beat up Pete.”

  “I pushed him up against the locker. They’re not going to send a bunch of state police to my door for that.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s so dumb.”

  Laura Lynn slid half her sandwich to Mandy. She didn’t normally eat a lot, but she looked extra frail today. “So, why were they really there?”

  Mandy wasn’t sure what to say. On the one hand, she knew Bear would be angry if she talked about the bones. They needed to keep a low profile, and the fewer people who knew about the girl in the septic tank, the better.

  On the other hand, Laura Lynn and Marcus were her friends. And they didn’t have anyone to tell. Besides, she was bursting with the information she’d picked up the night before. She knew Bear wouldn’t let her get involved, which meant she had to do her own investigation. And now she had two partners in crime.

  “Bea—my dad found a body in the backyard.”

  “What?” they both hissed.

  “Are you serious?” Marcus asked. He had abandoned his apple.

  She nodded and leaned closer. They mirrored her movement. “He was out digging a garden and dug up this old septic tank. When he opened it up, there were bones inside. Human bones.”

  Marcus’ eyes lit up. “Cool.”

&nb
sp; “Who was it?” Laura Lynn asked. “Do you know? Do you think your dad—”

  “Not yet, and no. But the sheriff and some state troopers were over. I heard some stuff. They think the body’s been in there at least ten or fifteen years.” Excited as she was by all the action, it also made her sad. “Can you believe that? Not knowing where your kid has been for the last fifteen years. Not knowing if she’s still alive or dead.” When Laura Lynn and Marcus exchanged a look, she frowned. “What?”

  “Do you know how many kids die around here? Or go missing?” When Mandy shook her head, Marcus continued. “A lot. Like, a lot a lot.”

  “How?” she asked. “Why?”

  “Lots of reasons,” Laura Lynn said. “Cancer. Running away. Murder. There are lots of stories like that. Kids going crazy and sent to insane asylums.”

  Marcus sat straighter in his chair. “I don’t believe all of them. Jake used to try to freak me out by telling me if I didn’t clean my room, all the kids from the mental hospital would escape and eat me alive.” He glanced to the side and shook his head. “What an asshat.”

  “Who’s Jake?” Mandy asked.

  “My older brother. He’s in college now.” Marcus started in on his sandwich, talking through a mouthful of food. “But he said his friend’s brother died that way. Some rare disease or something. Totally incurable.”

  “That’s pretty weird,” Mandy said.

  “Maybe that’s what happened to the girl in the septic tank,” Laura Lynn offered. “Maybe she went crazy and fell in.”

  “And what?” Marcus asked. “Her parents just closed it up and forgot about her? I doubt it.”

  “Then it was probably murder,” Mandy said. Another thrill went through her, but a twinge of fear followed this one. “We should look into it. Do our own investigation.”

  Laura Lynn and Marcus both looked down at their plates. Marcus was the first to answer. “I don’t know about that.”

 

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