Their Frozen Graves: A completely addictive crime thriller and mystery novel

by Choudhary, Ruhi

  “What do you think of Cole?” Mackenzie asked.

  “He’s a good husband. He’s always kind to us and takes care of Katy. He’s a very good physiotherapist. Fixed Frank’s sciatica.”

  “Have Cole and Katy ever had any problems?” Nick asked.

  “Every marriage has problems.” Charlotte rolled her eyes. “They fight, they make up.”

  “Do you know anyone by the name Carrie Breslow?”

  “Carrie Breslow?” She looked at Frank, who shrugged. “No. Should we?”

  “It’s alright. If you think of anything, please let us know. We’ll be in touch either way.” He handed her his card.

  “I’m sure whatever Kim was involved in has nothing to do with Katy. This is all nothing but a terrible coincidence. I’d hate for Katy to be troubled by this.”

  As they left the apartment, a spine-tingling thought came to Mackenzie. She didn’t believe any of this to be a coincidence. There was a reason why Kim ended up in Lakemore. That reason had to be Katy.

  Fifteen

  Mackenzie stuffed her mouth with another dumpling. The rich taste exploded in her mouth. Sterling sat next to her and fiddled with his watch; he hadn’t touched the food. She’d ordered Chinese for dinner, unable and unwilling to cook. Sterling would leave right after anyway. Robert was already fifteen minutes late. She knew she should have waited before she started eating. But she’d been polite enough already.

  “Is he even coming?” Sterling asked, irritated.

  She set down her chopsticks. “You can leave if you have somewhere else to be. I didn’t ask you to come tonight.”

  He ignored her jab. “I’m just saying. He did walk out and not bother to check in for twenty years.”

  “He gets to live here rent-free and eat my food. He’ll be here.” She resumed eating, surprised at how detached she sounded.

  “That doesn’t bother you?”

  “Anger comes when expectations are defied, Sterling.” She dunked the dumpling in rice vinegar. “And I have none.”

  “Have you thought about us?” he asked gently, placing his hand on hers. His finger grazed over her wedding band. The corners of his eyes creased with relief.

  “I need more time.” Her voice broke, and she withdrew her hand from underneath his.

  “How much time?”

  She gritted her teeth. “You shouldn’t complain. It means that I still give our relationship enough importance to actually think before doing something drastic. How many drinks did it take you to hook up with someone else?”

  He winced like he’d been punched. “I… I was asking because a colleague of mine is subletting his apartment January onward. I have to let him know soon if I want it.”

  “I’ll let you know soon, then.”

  The bell rang, and Mackenzie jumped out of her chair to answer the door.

  “Sorry, Micky.” Robert tottered inside with his small suitcase. “It started raining, and the bus got delayed.”

  She helped him take off his raincoat. “I ordered Chinese.”

  “That’s very nice. Where should I put this suitcase?”

  “I’ll show you your room after dinner. Leave it in the foyer for now. This is Sterling Brooks. My husband.”

  Sterling stood up like the courteous man he was. He offered his hand. “Sir.”

  “Oh.” Robert looked surprised for a moment, like Sterling wasn’t what he’d expected. Mackenzie wondered if it was Sterling’s icy blue eyes against his dark skin. The contrast threw a lot of people off. “How do you do?”

  After exchanging meaningless pleasantries, they sat at the dining table. Sterling watched Robert’s movements like a hawk.

  “Mack told me you lived in Mexico for some time?”

  “A decade.”

  “I went to Cancun in college but didn’t get a chance to explore much.”

  “I lived in Tepic. It’s on the west side. Beautiful city. Good architecture.” He struggled with the chopsticks. The greasy dumpling kept slipping. He gave up and used a fork instead.

  “Is it dangerous?”

  “Oh, yes. Gang violence. They’re always fighting for territory. What do you do?”

  “I’m an assistant district attorney.”

  “Is that how you met Micky? Through work?”

  “Yeah. Six years ago.”

  “I’m so proud of Micky. I never thought she’d be a cop.” He chuckled nervously.

  “What did she like growing up?”

  “Math and science.”

  “Not surprised. She always has her nose in some science book.”

  Mackenzie tuned out their mundane conversation. Her stomach flipped when they laughed together. This was a bad idea. What was she thinking—having dinner with a man who hit her mother on a daily basis and her husband who didn’t think twice before screwing someone else?

  She felt sick. Beads of sweat popped up all over her back. Her gut felt hot, like it had been torched with gasoline.

  “You okay, Micky?”

  “Y-yeah.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll just get some juice. Do you two want anything? Beer? Wine?”

  “I don’t drink anymore.”

  “Oh. Right.” She remembered his years at rehab. “Sterling?”

  “I’m good, babe.”

  Babe.

  She went to the kitchen. Their conversation resumed. She opened the door to the fridge and pressed her body into it, feeling the cold seep through her clothes.

  Her father was obviously taking advantage of her. And now Sterling would use this to weasel his way back into her good books. Maybe involving Sterling had not been wise. This was her personal business. She was marching deeper into the belly of disarray and could feel everything falling apart. She hoped her decisions were sound: biding her time and playing nice with her father to find out what he knew.

  Today her house was filled with the laughter of her husband and father. The miracle had happened that everyone prays for. Someone missing for decades, presumed to be dead, had returned. But there was another house out there that was filled with loss and despair. A family who’ll never have their miracle. A family who’ll never have closure.

  It was all Mackenzie’s fault.

  “Mack? Where did you go to?” Sterling’s voice came from the dining room.

  “Coming!” She returned to the table.

  “Micky, what’s it like being a police officer?”

  “It’s okay. Keeps life interesting.”

  “I bet. Do you have a partner?”

  “Yeah. Nick Blackwood.”

  “Hmm. So what do you solve? Murders?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sounds dangerous.”

  She shrugged. “If everyone’s done eating, I’ll clean up.”

  “I’ll help,” Sterling said.

  “Yeah, Micky. Me too.”

  “No!” she almost yelled. They froze and stared at her. “I mean… I like to clean. Sterling, why don’t you show him the guest room?”

  Luckily, no one protested. Robert was a stranger. A stranger she’d invited to live with her.

  “What the hell am I doing?” she muttered, collecting the takeout boxes.

  She picked up the fork and glass Robert had used and quickly placed them inside a sealed plastic bag.

  Sixteen

  November 24

  “Tell me if you see anything,” Nick said. He went behind the television and adjusted some wires. The portable screen blinked with static. There was a flicker of the frame of a video on screen.

  “Stop!” Mackenzie called out. The screen displayed a pixelated image of a parking lot.

  “Cool.” He fell on the chair next to her in the conference room.

  “Why are you wearing jeans?”

  His ears turned red. “All my suits have gone for dry cleaning.”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in jeans. It’s either pants or sweatpants.”

  “Focus, Mack.”

  She grinned, and they watched the CCTV footag
e in silence. Woodburn Park didn’t have an official parking lot. There were two open spaces by the edge of the park—one by the east side and the other on the west side. One of them lined the inlet ponds that also served as runoff. The other used to have a hotdog stand and an ice cream truck when Mackenzie was a kid. Now, it was empty.

  They didn’t have sophisticated cameras, but fortunately for Mackenzie and Nick there were traffic lights close enough to offer a view. Jenna had retrieved footage from Monday night to the Saturday night before the bodies were found. They sat and watched the blurry videos of shadows and slivers of cars driving by. The footage from the two cameras played on the split screen. Three hours in, no car had parked in those spots.

  “How was the family dinner?” Nick leaned back in his chair and crossed his ankle over his knee.

  “Awkward.”

  “Your father’s just at home now? No supervision?”

  “He’s a senior citizen. He doesn’t need supervision,” she said defensively. When Nick didn’t say anything, she knew he was watching her, and she knew what he meant. “I have no cash or jewelry at home. And you know I don’t own any other guns. My service weapon’s always with me.”

  “Did you ask Becky to do a paternity test?”

  “I brought the samples in. Becky’s going to drive here for a meeting with Sully on another case. I’ll just catch her then.”

  Her eyes never left the screen. It was mundane to comb through hours of footage and her gut told her that they wouldn’t find anything useful here. But it was a matter of crossing the “t”s and dotting the “i”s. A huge chunk of the job involved dreary legwork.

  The timestamp showed hours ticking past, but no car or person swung by. Just as Mackenzie had expected. The park stretched out for acres. With no designated parking lots, people parked anywhere around the edge. Patrol was searching the trail in the park, prioritizing the shoreline of the lake, to identify where the bodies were dumped in, but the weather was slowing them down. All Mackenzie and Nick could do was hope for a lucky break.

  “I found the suicide video tape in the evidence locker.” Mackenzie handed it to him.

  Nick played it on the screen. The footage was gray and grainy from a traffic light. Cars zipped by on the bridge over the Fresco River. The timestamp showed it was three in the afternoon. Ten minutes later, a woman came into frame wearing a white flowing dress.

  “There she is.” Nick leaned forward.

  She stood at the railing, looking at the water below. Some people walked past her, throwing glances and looking back, but no one stopped to talk to her.

  “No one cares,” Mackenzie said.

  At seventeen minutes past three, she swung one leg over the railing and then another. There wasn’t much space. Just enough. She leaned forward but kept her arms coiled over the railing behind her.

  More people took notice. Two people walking by paused for a bit and observed her. Like they were contemplating. But they didn’t talk to her. After hovering for a minute or so, they continued walking. The bystander effect. Someone else would stop her. Why should they get involved in someone else’s mess?

  Three minutes later, a man stopped and tried talking to her. They couldn’t make out his face or any identifying features. He took out his phone and started dialing when suddenly the woman jumped.

  Mackenzie gasped. The man rushed forward and leaned over the railing, still on the phone. Others joined him. Minutes later, the police came, but the water was deep and tumultuous. It was too late.

  “Who was that guy?” Mackenzie asked.

  “A good Samaritan. The police questioned him.”

  “No one pushed her or had a gun on her. Definitely looks like a suicide.”

  “I’ll go through the detective’s notes and see if there were any suspects.”

  “Yeah. Is there a possibility that she was blackmailed?” But something told Mackenzie she hadn’t been. The woman didn’t look around like she was scared. She just stared at the water in which her death was written.

  “Did you hear from Justin?”

  “Not yet.” Mackenzie checked her phone again. “He did get in touch with the center in Oklahoma City, but it will take time for them to send their records to us.”

  “Katy didn’t remember Kim.” He interlaced his fingers behind his head. “But did Kim remember Katy?”

  “I think she would have. She stayed with an aunt and uncle until she was nine and her parents visited her. They would have talked about Katy. And then at the center she had counseling sessions round the clock. They must have mentioned her family and tried to understand her thought process, right?”

  He shrugged. “I honestly don’t know how these places work. I feel bad for her. Sociopathic children—don’t come across them very often.”

  “Do you think she resented Katy?”

  A look of brief bemusement crossed his face before he spoke. “Resented the twin that got to stay at home with her family and live a normal life. Why not?”

  “She ran away, meaning she wasn’t happy there.”

  “Who would be, in a mental institution?”

  “Treatment center,” she corrected him.

  “Yeah, okay.” He took out a lighter from his pocket and shook it close to his ear, listening to the lighter fluid lap inside it. “She ran away but never contacted her family. Guess she was mad at them.”

  “They also moved, remember? Maybe she didn’t know where they were.”

  “Kim knew Katy existed. She must have come to Lakemore looking for her.”

  Mackenzie nodded. “Either that or it was one damn big coincidence. Kim ran away from a center in Oklahoma City more than a decade ago and ends up two thousand miles away in this small-ass town in Washington where her twin sister just happens to be? Seems unlikely. So, we assume she comes to Lakemore to look for Katy and her family. But she didn’t contact them?”

  “Maybe she was going to,” Nick suggested. “She was just observing her at first.”

  This wasn’t a normal woman. Kim Harris had been a violent toddler who had pushed her pregnant mother down the stairs. Even the doctors didn’t know how to label her. Being admitted to a treatment center at the age of nine and spending all those formative years away from a healthy family environment must have taken its toll. Had she gotten better or worse?

  Mackenzie’s insides clenched. “What if Kim was the one who took Katy’s dress?”

  The hand playing with the lighter froze. “Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Think Cole was in on it?”

  “Having an affair with his wife’s twin? That’s weird.”

  “Twin fantasies are pretty common, Mack.” He grinned.

  “Shut up!” She smacked him on the arm. “Be serious.”

  “Whatever Kim was up to with Katy could be unrelated to her murder. And who the hell is that other woman?”

  Mackenzie exhaled. They weren’t getting anywhere. She stretched out her limbs and paused the video. “I had a strange thought.”

  “What?”

  “I wondered if Kim’s plan was to replace Katy.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like maybe she took her clothes. She was wearing the same wedding ring. A simple gold band. Even their hairstyle was the same, Nick. What other reason could there be?”

  “Yeah…” He tapped his lip. “But where does our Jane Doe factor in?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, resigned. “Maybe she and Kim knew each other? They were clearly together when they were murdered; we found a part of Jane Doe’s clothing inside Kim. It must have come from the knife the guy used to stab them.”

  Nick groaned and dragged his hands down his face. “Okay. Let’s break this down. There are too many things. We should pin Katy as our focus point and go from there. She maintains a public profile. She’s active on social media and organizes events across town. It’s possible she caught someone’s attention.”

  Mackenzie straightened her back. “I’ll ex
tract her social media history and get pictures and videos of her rallies, fundraisers, etcetera. Maybe we’ll catch a break there.”

  There was a knock on the glass door of the conference room, and Jenna, the other junior detective in their unit, poked her head in. “Got a minute?”

  Nick waved her in.

  “Justin and I looked into the three cabins around the lake. They belong to the same guy. Blake Richie, a mechanic who owns a couple garages around town. He said he bought them years ago and has been trying to sell them off, but no one wants to buy anything in Woodburn Park. He doesn’t use them or even maintain them.”

  “Homeless people must break in all the time then,” Mackenzie said.

  “Especially in winter. Patrol said they’ve chased homeless people out of those cabins many times over the years. But they never had any drugs on them so no arrests were made.”

  Nick pressed his lips in a thin line. “Poor guys were just looking for a place to crash.”

  “The troopers patrol the park often?” Mackenzie asked.

  “Sometimes. Just to make sure nothing is going on. When they caught them there, they increased their patrols in winter. But they said they come in around January and February,” Jenna replied.

  “But this year was different. There was a big storm way earlier than usual. Maybe some people had snuck in. Did you ask if they checked earlier?”

  Jenna gave her standard look. The half roll of eyes and wiggle of shoulders with a condescending smirk on the lips. “Of course I did. But the storm was unpredictable and so short. There were no patrols.”

  “What about the other cabins at the park? Are all of them abandoned?”

  “Some.”

  “Can you label them on a map?”

  She twirled a strand of her hair and shrugged. “Sure. Anything else?”

  “Yes, you were checking with hospitals to see if anyone recognizes Jane Doe Two. Any luck?”

  “Not in Lakemore. I’m going to check with hospitals in Olympia and Tacoma.”

  “Keep at it.” Mackenzie turned around.