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

by Choudhary, Ruhi

  “Earth to Mack.”

  She took out her phone and sent him the list of parlors. “Here you go. Can you at least keep me updated?”

  “Of course.” He made a face. “Do you want to talk about something?”

  Before she could answer, his phone chirped. He glared at it with a deep frown and shot up, moving fast around his office. His bare feet scuffled through sheets of paper lying idly on the floor to get to his computer.

  Keys clacked.

  Mackenzie followed up eagerly. “What?”

  Nick opened an email and skimmed it. “Clint found some deleted files on Robbie Elfman’s computer. There’s an info dump on a lot of women.”

  “Not a huge shock, given his history. He was also in prison for stalking and harassment.”

  Nick opened his mouth but closed it and turned off the monitor. “Time for you to go home, Mack. I have to get to work.”

  “What did you find? There’s something on it, isn’t there?” Her pulse jumped, knowing her partner’s ticks well.

  A satisfied smirk and a twitch in his eye. “You’re on medical leave. Have patience. Besides, I’ll see you tonight?”

  “What?”

  “The holiday party, Mack. I reminded you a few days ago.”

  “Oh! God, yes.” She scratched her head. “I totally forgot that’s tonight. It’s still happening?”

  Nick shrugged. “Sully said it’s only three hours, and we could all use a break. Rescheduling it is going to be a pain with everyone getting busy with their families soon enough. Oh, and remember to bring your contribution.”

  Every year at the holiday party Lakemore PD collected donations to support a charity. This year it was to help families of fallen firefighters. Mackenzie nodded, discomfort clawing at her skin. She didn’t want to bring Sterling to the party. Nor was she ready to take her father. That was unnecessary. She would be going alone.

  “I’ll be there.” She smiled tight.

  Forty-Five

  Troy and Finn were in charge of the decorations, just like the last few years. There was a fake Christmas tree in the middle of the office, twinkling with lights and ornaments. It was tradition. Christmas lights were strung up around the room; a shelf converted to a table held snacks and alcohol. Instead of candy canes, there were hanging white reapers. A disco ball and lights lit up the room, casting shapes and silhouettes that rippled over skins and surfaces. A strange mix of Christmas and Halloween. Troy and Finn called it a theme party. But Mackenzie and the rest of them knew the pair were too lazy to buy new decorations each year.

  Everyone from the Detectives Unit was present, with families. Sully sat in a corner dressed as Santa Claus with a lazy grin on his face—an empty bottle of wine next to his feet. Mackenzie took a shuddering breath, waving hello at everyone.

  “Where’s Sterling?” Pam, Sully’s chatty wife with a bob cut, cornered Mackenzie. “You look lovely, by the way.”

  Mackenzie looked down at her simple red dress, feeling self-conscious. “Thank you. He’s busy. He’s sorry he couldn’t make it.”

  “Oh, that’s a shame. I really like him. You two are such a handsome couple.”

  Mackenzie plastered on a fake smile that almost hurt her face and nodded. She tried not to think of the awkward conversation she’d had with Sterling earlier that evening, when she’d told him not to come. “I’m going to take a lap, but I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “Sure, honey.”

  Nick sat on a chair patiently while Luna painted on his eyelids with a lipstick.

  “I think hot pink would suit his skin color more.” Mackenzie ruffled Luna’s hair from behind.

  “Don’t give her more ideas.” Nick’s eyes were closed, his arms crossed.

  Luna spun around and beamed. She wrapped her chubby hands around Mackenzie’s waist and squeezed her tightly. “Merry Christmas, Aunty Mack.”

  “You too, Luna.” She kissed the top of her head. “Are you excited to spend the holidays with your dad?”

  “Yes. He’s more fun than Mom and doesn’t keep a swear jar.”

  Mackenzie picked up a drink, chuckling. Nick raised an eyebrow at her glass. Her cheeks felt flushed already, and there was a slight sway in her step. Her facial muscles were not as controlled as she liked them to be. She’d had a glass of wine before coming, despite the fact she was still taking painkillers for her injuries.

  After all, it was a party.

  Her eyes darted to the bowl marked “donations,” containing envelopes.

  “Oh shit.” She pressed her hand against her forehead. “I left my contribution at home. I had it on the kitchen island, but then I opened a bottle of wine and I… forgot.”

  “You can hand it in later.” Nick slapped her back. “It’s a little embarrassing but not a big deal.”

  “Thanks.” She rolled her eyes. “I feel bad. Maybe I can just quickly drive home and come back.”

  Her phone vibrated with a message. It was from her father.

  Come downstairs, Micky. I’m at the station.

  What the hell was he doing here? Mackenzie felt the effects of the alcohol melt away, her body going rigid. She put her glass away and rushed out of the office, her heart skittering wildly in her chest.

  Was he in trouble? Was he hurt? Her mind reeled with possibilities. When she saw him standing in the lobby, smiling, irritation took over.

  “What are you doing here?” she whispered, unable to keep the edge out of her voice.

  Robert’s smile faded. “I’m sorry, Micky. I saw you left this in the kitchen.” He took out the envelope from his pocket. “You mentioned it was important. I thought I should drop it off.”

  She took it from him and looked around warily.

  “Okay, then.” He pressed his lips in a thin line. “I’ll just go. Have fun tonight.”

  Robert had been doing this lately—small, nice gestures here and there—to prove that he wasn’t the man Mackenzie remembered, that he had truly changed. But she didn’t appreciate his timing this time, even if his blatant disappointment did make her feel a little guilty.

  “Hey, Mad Mack! Do you know where Murphy keeps his scotch collection?” Troy came from behind her and paused, looking at Robert. “Hello sir, I’m Troy Clayton.”

  Robert shook his hand. “Robert Price.”

  “Her dad? Nice to meet you!”

  Mackenzie’s colleagues didn’t know much about her personal life. All they knew was that her father wasn’t in the picture and her mother had died. Robert Price had gone missing twenty years ago. Even if old timers like Sully remembered the case, she had prepared an answer: Her father had walked out on them but had reappeared to make amends. It wasn’t a complete lie, and no one would have to know what really transpired that night twenty years ago.

  “Aren’t you joining us?” Troy asked good-naturedly.

  Robert blinked rapidly, his face turning red. “No, I was just here to drop something off. I should leave.”

  “It’s a holiday party! Everyone’s family is here. I’m sure you’ll have a great time.”

  Mackenzie wanted the earth to swallow her. Her two worlds were clashing in front of her, and there was nothing she could do to stop it without rousing suspicion or coming off as rude. And Robert was hurt by her reaction—she could tell from the expression in his eyes.

  “It’s okay. You can come up for a bit,” Mackenzie offered reluctantly.

  “If it’s okay with you.”

  Mackenzie entered the elevator flanked by her father, who was supposed to be dead, and her clueless coworker, who chewed Robert’s ear off with small talk.

  As the elevator glided up, she kept her ears tuned to Robert, praying he didn’t reveal anything suspicious. Fortunately, she trusted Robert enough to maintain the facade. His penchant for self-preservation meant he’d be careful.

  When they joined the party, Mackenzie placed her contribution in the bowl.

  Luna came up to them and frowned at Robert. “Who are you?”

/>   “This is my father. Robert.”

  Robert leaned down to shake Luna’s hand. Nick’s eyes popped open and settled on Mackenzie. She gave him a forced smile and did the introductions, not missing the corners of his eyes tightening ever so slightly. She knew Nick was assessing her father. But Robert had perfected his manners. They made small talk, and Mackenzie grabbed another drink to give her the courage to get through the night without losing her mind.

  Luna pulled on the hem of her dress, demanding attention. “I have a question.”

  “Yes?”

  “Why is this called a holiday party not a Christmas party?”

  Mackenzie tucked her hair behind her ear, wondering if it were a trick question. “Because we’re celebrating all the holidays around this time, like Hanukkah.”

  Luna looked around, deadpan. “Then why are there only Christmas decorations and Christmas songs?”

  “Okay, Luna.” Nick tugged her back by her pigtails. “Enough questions for today.”

  “Looking good, Detective Blackwood.” Rivera joined them, and turned to Mackenzie. “How’re you doing now?”

  “Better, thank you.”

  Mackenzie didn’t like something about Rivera’s expression. Maybe it was her whitened knuckles holding the glass. Or the strained smile plastered on her lips. Or her ballooned nostrils. She wondered if Rivera was still unhappy with her. Mackenzie knew that she had disappointed her new boss, especially after Rivera had essentially tried to take her under her wing.

  Mad Mack had been reckless.

  She grabbed her father’s elbow and turned him around to diffuse the tension. “This is my father, Robert Price. This is Lieutenant Atlee Rivera.”

  Rivera’s eyes flitted to Robert. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Ah! You too.” He offered his hand. “Lovely party.”

  “Thank you. Can I get you a drink?”

  “I don’t drink.”

  Silence lingered in their little corner. The air felt frailer than usual. None of them were talkers. Nick was preoccupied, humoring Luna by allowing his face to be used as a canvas. Mackenzie let out an easy breath when Sully’s wife Pam joined them, setting into motion some conversations.

  An hour later, Mackenzie sat in a corner with a bowl of chips in her lap. Pam and Troy kept Robert engaged. It was easier to breathe not having to worry about entertaining him.

  “Not feeling the Christmas cheer?” Nick perched on the desk next to her.

  “I never do,” she muttered, fiddling with the candy. “When I was six years old, my mom told me that Santa wasn’t real.”

  “Sounds like a practical lady.”

  She laughed. “I don’t know about that.”

  “You’re laughing more than usual.”

  She looked at him with a straight face. “You’re not the only one who has had a few drinks.”

  “I didn’t know your father was coming.”

  She watched him mingle with her co-workers and felt almost nauseated. “I didn’t either. He came to give me the envelope I’d left at home and then Troy caught us. I couldn’t think of an excuse.”

  “Detective Price. Detective Blackwood.” Justin acknowledged them, tipping his head.

  “Relax, Justin. We’re off duty. Take a chill pill,” Mackenzie drawled. “You did a good job hunting down Bella, by the way. In case I didn’t tell you before.”

  “Did you find anything on Elisa James?” Nick asked Justin.

  “Got her address, sir.”

  “Who is Elisa James?” Mackenzie asked, sitting up straighter.

  “Someone on Robbie’s computer we need to talk to,” Nick said.

  “Do you want to go now?”

  “No! We’re both basically hammered. And… you’re still on leave.”

  “I was hoping you’d forget that part.”

  “No chance.” He clinked his beer bottle with Justin and took a swig.

  A few minutes later, there was a commotion at the entrance of the office. Some beefy men dressed in suits had entered wearing distrustful expressions. Sully woke up with a stir and wiped the drool off his chin.

  “Is that the FBI?” Mackenzie asked.

  Nick put away his beer bottle and straightened his already straight tie. “No. That’s my dad.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “He’s here?”

  He gave her a flat look and left to greet his father. Senator Alan Blackwood was shorter than Nick, trim in a midnight-blue suit, with a thick mane of gray hair on his head. Though she had been friends with Nick for eight years, Mackenzie had never had the opportunity to meet Alan. He was understandably a busy man. Nick didn’t resemble his father much, but when he smiled, shaking Lieutenant Rivera’s hand, she saw the likeness.

  Luna tore away from the group of children and sprinted toward her grandfather. Her pigtails oscillating almost comically. Mackenzie stayed behind and watched Alan, Nick, and Luna together.

  Her heart scraped a little even though a reluctant smile tugged at her lips. They were so normal. She caught Robert watching her, almost forlorn. Like he knew what she was thinking. Because he was thinking the same thing.

  “This is Mack,” Nick gestured for Mackenzie to come over. “My partner I’ve told you about.”

  “Ah, yes! Have heard great things,” Alan smiled. “Happy holidays.”

  “You too, sir.”

  “Please, call me Alan.” His face faltered as his eyes searched hers. “You know, you look like someone I knew a very long time ago.”

  “Oh. I don’t know…”

  He frowned. “What was your name again?”

  “Mackenzie Price,” she said slowly.

  He raised his eyebrows and touched his fist to his mouth. “Are you by any chance related to Melody Price?”

  Mackenzie’s heart skipped a beat. Blood drained from her face. But there were eyes on her. Everyone except for the children had surrounded them, wanting to greet the senator. “Y-yes. She was my mother.”

  “I can’t believe I didn’t make the connection before. You look so much like her. And Nick and Luna always called you Mack, so…”

  “Wait—how do you know them?” Nick asked the question Mackenzie couldn’t find her voice for.

  “We were old family friends when we lived in Salem. Me not so much, but your mother and Melody were good friends. In fact, you went to the hospital when Mackenzie was born. You insisted on holding her, but you were only five. You threw a big tantrum.”

  Troy almost spat out his drink and beamed. “Really?”

  Mackenzie drew a blank and looked at Nick from the corner of her eye. His cheeks glowed pink, visibly embarrassed.

  “We moved a few months after that, to Seattle. What a small world.” Alan chuckled.

  “Oh my God, please. I have so many questions.” Troy grinned.

  “You must know my father, then,” Mackenzie said.

  Robert nodded vaguely at Alan, avoiding meeting his eyes. Mackenzie reckoned he was ashamed. Robert was always known for being deadbeat. A drunk who stayed at home while his wife worked hard to afford his addiction and fill their stomachs.

  Alan’s lips parted, and a knot formed between his eyebrows. “Yes, of course.” He offered his hand. “It’s been a long time.”

  “It’s good to see you,” Robert replied shakily.

  Mackenzie didn’t miss their guarded reactions to each other. Almost like they were gauging each other before a duel. Something was amiss.

  Soon Luna pulled her away to question her on why people killed each other. Mackenzie noticed how Robert made an active effort to avoid Alan for the remainder of the night, while Alan kept throwing cautionary glances at Robert, like he was trying to make up his mind about him.

  She couldn’t shake off the feeling that the two men had history.

  Forty-Six

  December 8

  Mackenzie had messaged Justin inquiring how many tattoo parlors he had checked out. Justin had crossed off four out of six and was on his way to the fifth one. She mes
saged him back:

  I can look into the last one. Already in Kent on an errand.

  It was a lie, and her junior detective knew it. Mackenzie bit her nails, waiting for Justin’s reply. The bubble appeared and disappeared repeatedly, indicating that he was struggling to type a message. He no doubt disapproved of her working while on medical leave, but she had forged a good working relationship with Justin. She trusted him not to tell anyone, just like she knew he wouldn’t argue with her. She felt guilty for putting him in an awkward position, but she knew the flak would ultimately come her way if anyone found out. The reply was what she expected:

  Yes, ma’am.

  Mackenzie’s fingers drummed the wheel as her eyes scanned for another parking space. There was a parking lot a few blocks ahead, but the price was ridiculous, especially considering the neighborhood. She was convinced she would get robbed there.

  The street had few shops lining either side. They were shabby and discolored with broken windows, signs hanging off, newspapers patching up the holes in walls, and stinking garbage bags collecting at their doorstep. Cars in need of urgent wash and repair blocked portions of the narrow street. Even the streetlights were bent at awkward angles, with missing bulbs.

  “Hey! Don’t you dare hit him!” A woman dressed in a tight fluorescent-green dress stepped in front of the car, and bent to pick up a cat from the street. “I’ll sue your ass!”

  The woman retreated to her group of friends. All of them were dressed for a night out, except their eyes were bloodshot and mascara gathered in the corners. One of the women counted a thick stash of cash with a cigarette dangling loosely from her lips.