by Sarina Wilde
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Jill?”
When he got no answer, he cut through the kitchen to the family room. She was curled up on the love seat in the glassed-in porch off that room. He stopped, staring at her. Although she had a book on her lap, she’d turned it facedown and was staring off into space as though her mind were elsewhere. Wherever she was, it wasn’t a happy place. Her mouth drooped and her eyes were red-rimmed as if she’d been crying.
Kevin gulped, blinking the moisture from his own eyes and rubbing the knot in his chest. How had everything gone so wrong? But he knew the answer. He hadn’t been honest with her. Come on, Ramsey. Man up and get this over with. With another deep breath, he stepped forward and opened the French doors leading onto the porch.
Jill didn’t look at him. “I’ve packed your bags. I want you to leave.”
“Jill…let me explain.”
She turned to him then, her eyes blazing. “Explain what? You lied to me? You and your partner worked together to deceive me?”
“It’s not the way it seems.”
Her laugh held bitterness and hurt. “Are you going to tell me the email from Adam Gregory was coincidence? Was it also a coincidence it came in while you and he were together…” Her voice trailed off and her eyes widened. “Oh my God…”
He took a step forward and she shrank back into the depths of the chair. “Jill! It’s not like that!”
“Do you think I’m so stupid? Do you think I couldn’t see the connection between you two? Oh my God!” She jumped to her feet, stalking toward him, her fists clenched. “Get out, Kevin! Even if I believed you, what you did was a deal breaker. You knew I wanted this to be with someone unknown to us. You knew. Yet you deliberately involved not only someone you knew, but your partner? I want you to go.”
He’d never seen her so close to hysterics. Jill had always been the calm one—one of the things that made her such a wonderful asset in an emergency room. Nothing fazed her. But this had. Kevin knew they wouldn’t get anything accomplished right now. All he could do was make it worse and he needed time to think. That was his nature.
He backed up, raising his hands. “I won’t give up on us, Jill, but I will go. Maybe we could both use some time to think.”
She looked at him with such contempt he stopped, glancing away while he swallowed past the tightness in his throat. He had loved her since high school. She was the only woman he’d ever been with, the only woman he’d ever wanted to be with. No matter how angry she was right now, he couldn’t let it end. He wouldn’t let it end.
When he reached the kitchen, he realized she’d followed him. After grabbing his car keys from the key holder next to the door, he faced her again. “If you need me, you can reach me on my cell phone…or call the station. Sarge will know…”
She crossed her arms across her chest. “Get out, Kevin.”
Then she left, fleeing upstairs and leaving him standing there. Kevin stared at the empty doorway, blinking the moisture from his eyes. It took almost no time to load the cases in the trunk. Once he’d backed out of the garage, he made sure to shut the door. Then he drove. Dusk had fallen by the time he parked outside Adam’s apartment building. He hadn’t known where else to go and didn’t want to be by himself in a hotel room. He trudged along the walk and rang the bell. Adam was shirtless, worn jeans hanging low on his hips and bare feet poking out from beneath his pant legs.
“She kicked me out. Can—can I come in?”
Chapter Seven
He looked like hell. His eyes were red-rimmed. Adam didn’t know if lack of sleep or tears was the cause, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask. He stepped back, opening the door wider.
“Come in, dude. You need to carry anything?”
Kevin shook himself as if his mind weren’t quite focusing. “Suitcases. In the trunk.”
More than one. Shit. Obviously Kevin’s talk with Jill hadn’t gone at all well. The guy looked shattered. “Give me your keys and sit. I’ll get them.”
Adam caught them in one hand, waiting until Kevin dropped onto the couch. Instead of leaning back, he braced his elbows on his splayed knees and hung his head, staring at the floor. Adam pressed his lips together, turning away so he could get his partner’s luggage. This wasn’t the time to try to get him to talk about it. He’d learned during the past month that Kevin often clammed up about the stuff that truly got to him, just as he had their first week together following a hit-and-run involving a kid.
He grabbed all three cases and the duffel in one trip then slipped back out to grab Kevin’s cell phone and his weapon. After he returned to the living room, Adam leaned against the closed door, staring at his partner’s dejected pose and feeling an ache in his throat. Why hadn’t he kept his fucking mouth shut? If he’d not said anything, Kevin and Jill would still be together; everything would have gone on just as it had. The perfect couple—and him on the outside looking in.
Instead he’d managed to fuck up their marriage and he could be well on the way to screwing his career and his working relationship with the best partner he’d ever had. Adam expelled a heavy breath, hooked his fingers in his pockets and started across the room.
“I don’t know about you, Ramsey, but I could use a beer right about now. You want one?”
The yes that floated to him was muffled and choked. Adam’s glance snapped back over his shoulder and this time he rubbed his chest, trying to get rid of the pain as he watched Kevin’s broad shoulders shaking. He wanted to offer him some comfort, but how could he when he was the catalyst for everything that had gone wrong?
He returned with beers in hand, setting one on the coffee table in front of Kevin and flopping on the couch’s other end. He drank in silence, hoping if he left it alone, Kevin might start talking. When he didn’t, Adam drained his beer and set the empty bottle on the table with a snap.
“You might not be ready to hear this, but I have to say it, Ramsey.” Adam waited until Kevin looked at him. His throat nearly closed, but he forced himself to go on. “I’m so damn sorry. I should’ve kept my fucking mouth shut.” He paused for a second, blinking. “You and Jill are…so right together…and I just wanted to tell you.”
Kevin drained his beer, set it aside and stood. “I need another one.” He disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Adam there, blinking in confusion. He’d laid himself open at his partner’s feet and all Ramsey had to say was I need another one? He rubbed the ache in his chest, closing his eyes as he forced back the pain of knowing he’d caused Kevin and Jill’s rift and had effectively had his attempt at an apology shoved back at him.
Kevin’s hand squeezed his shoulder. “Here, Adam. I brought you one too.”
He met his partner’s electric blue gaze and shivered. There were so many things he wanted to say, to try to explain. Kevin sat next to him and took a long swallow before he sighed.
“It’s not your fault, Hell. I could have said no.” Kevin took another swig from the bottle. “You know, she now thinks you and I have had a thing going on the side.”
Adam’s heart skipped a beat. “What? Why?”
Kevin snorted. “Said she saw the ‘connection’ between us, added that to your email coming in on our workout night and decided we must have been having a torrid affair going on all along.”
“But…it’s not true.”
Kevin looked around the room. “Yeah. I know. You know. But I think we both have to admit last night turned out to be way more than just good fucking.” He shook his head. “I can’t think about this anymore tonight. It’s driving me crazy. This…uh…thing with Jill might take a while to fix. I can get a hotel.”
“No. I have room. There’s a second bedroom. It’s not much.”
“If it’s got a bed, I’m good.”
Adam showed him the room. Kevin glanced around and nodded. They moved the cases in there. Adam found hangers so he could unpack and get his clothing in the closet. In addition to everything else, Kevin still had to have suits for work. Wrink
led wouldn’t cut it. Ramsey had always been a sharp dresser.
When they finished getting everything squared away, Adam leaned against the doorframe. “If you need to talk…” his voice trailed off as Kevin speared him with a look that clearly said don’t go there. “Yeah. Well, good night, dude.”
Kevin watched the door shut behind Adam then stood there rooted to the spot. If he’d been a dog, he would have put his head back and howled, but that wasn’t an option. He trudged into the bathroom off Adam’s spare bedroom and laid out the items from his utility case. Jill had been very thorough. She’d even packed his toothbrush. As he stared, it began to shake. No, that wasn’t right. His hand shook. And then he did bend over at the waist, pain slicing through him and tears running down his face. He wanted it to be silent, but it wasn’t. He sucked in air, his breath hitching noisily.
Was he so weak? Kevin stared at his reflection, his eyes appearing an even brighter blue in his bloodshot gaze. No. His tears weren’t because he had given up or because he would even consider what he and Jill had was over. No. He cried because he had caused so much pain to Jill…and Adam.
He would get her back and somehow, he would find a way to hold on to his friendship and his working relationship with Hell. Right now, in the wake of the day’s events, how he would accomplish those two things seemed incomprehensible.
* * * * *
Kevin and Adam had just arrived the following morning when their sergeant stopped by. “Confirmation came in on our Jane Doe. It is Heather Stevens. I’ll need you guys to handle the death notification to the family. Meth overdose is the official cause.”
Kevin closed his eyes for an instant. As if things weren’t fucked-up enough already. This was one job aspect he hated. “She’s been missing for ten years and we’re supposed to tell her family she died of a goddamn overdose? There’s got to be more to it.”
The sergeant’s smile was grim. “Oh, I think there is. The lab also found traces of tranquilizers. I don’t think her addiction was voluntary. So, gentlemen, I think you’re now dealing with a homicide investigation linked to a more recent missing person case.”
“More than two cases, Sarge,” Adam said. “I found a case going back even further. Missing person, same age as Heather and Addy at the time of her disappearance. Same high school.”
“What happened to her?”
“Hikers found the body off a trail at Umstead. The case went cold shortly after.”
The sergeant tapped his knuckles on Kevin’s desk. “You guys take care of notifying the Stevens family. Then I want to know what your strategy is for working these cases. Think about whether you need additional manpower.”
Adam’s chair scraped back. “Let’s get this over with. I’ll talk. You observe. If we can get them to give us any high school yearbooks, anything to link her with a particular faculty member…”
“I think that’s our best line,” Kevin agreed. “Everything we’ve read and seen so far indicates these girls left of their own free will. With no obvious struggle, they had to have come across someone they trusted.”
They headed to the garage. Adam snagged Kevin’s coat sleeve. “You okay, Kevin?”
“Yeah. I’m not giving up, Hell, but I am going to give her some breathing room.”
At Adam’s nod, the two men belted themselves in their sedan and headed over to the home of Heather Stevens’ parents. The modest, one-story brick ranch was the same home they’d occupied at the time Heather had disappeared ten years ago. Such stability could be helpful, particularly if they had kept the girl’s room intact.
Kevin clenched his teeth. Many people were unwilling to relinquish hope a missing loved one would one day return. Now they would be delivering the news to destroy their hope, but if they could somehow get the point across, tactfully, that they believed Heather’s disappearance was linked to Addy’s, there might still be a chance Addy could be saved.
“If these cases are linked,” Adam said as they parked in front, “it appears our abductor is replacing one abductee with another. The date of Heather’s disappearance was one week prior to the Umstead body being found. And Addy’s one week prior to the discovery of Heather’s body.”
Kevin grimaced. “Holy hell. That is so freaking creepy. Let’s just do it. I hate this shit.”
Two cars were still parked in the drive, a good sign they would find the Stevens at home. Kevin checked to make sure his badge was visible while Hell knocked on the door. As they stood waiting, he saw a curtain twitch then heard the rattle of a lock being turned.
“Good morning, ma’am,” Adam greeted her. “I’m Detective Adam Heller and this is my partner, Detective Kevin Ramsey. Is your husband at home?”
“Yes. Is…is this about Heather?”
Kevin hated the hope in the woman’s face. As she finished speaking, a lean, gray-haired man joined her.
“May we come inside for a few minutes?” Adam inquired.
Mrs. Stevens backed up and her husband opened the door wider for them to enter.
“Come in the living room,” she said, her voice shaky. “May I get you some coffee or tea?”
“No, ma’am,” Kevin said. “Thank you though.”
Mr. Stevens waved them to a seat. Unlike his wife, his dark eyes were flat with an awareness of what was coming. He sat next to his wife and took her hand in his. He knows.
“Does this have anything to do with the body that was found yesterday?”
“Yes sir,” Adam confirmed. “The medical examiner compared the descriptions we had, but also used dental records and the DNA samples you provided. We got the confirmation this morning. It was Heather.”
Mrs. Stevens turned her face into her husband’s shoulder, but his only reaction was a paling of his face and a tightening of his grip on his wife’s hand.
“If you have any questions, we’re here to help answer them.”
“How did she die?”
Adam took a deep breath. “The official cause of death is an overdose of methamphetamine.”
Over their shoulders, Kevin spied a bookshelf containing several pictures of their daughter, including one showing her in her cheerleading outfit. He turned his attention back to Adam and Heather’s parents.
“You think there’s more to it though. I hear it in your voice.” Stevens sighed, glancing over his shoulder at the pictures. “There must be more to it. I know things can happen in ten years, but Heather was a good girl, a good student and because of my background—she was violently opposed to drugs and alcohol.”
“Your background, sir?” Kevin prompted.
“I’m a recovered alcoholic. Heather and my wife had to live through that. Our daughter was very opposed to alcohol and drug use. I suppose we have always held out hope she might one day return—alive—but we also knew this day might arrive. So tell us why you believe she was more than another strung-out addict who accidentally killed herself.”
“In addition to the meth, there were traces of tranquilizers in her blood. Her case also has remarkable similarities to another one. Are you familiar with Adelaide Brown?”
“The teenager who ran away?”
“We don’t believe she ran away. We believe the cases may be connected.” Adam paused. “We also believe there might be a third case, one going even five years further back than your daughter’s.”
Mrs. Stevens faced them. “What makes you believe missing girls spread out over a fifteen-year period might be linked?”
Kevin cleared his throat. “They were all seniors, all fit the same basic description…and they all attended your daughter’s high school.”
“I know it’s been a long time,” Adam murmured, “but if you have any pictures or annuals of Heather’s, they might help. Besides cheerleading, was she involved with anything else at school?”
“The yearbook,” Stevens said. “She was a photographer.”
“Her things are still in her room. In fact I was in there cleaning last week and came across some old film canisters.”
Heather’s parents led the way along a short hallway to a room at the end. When Kevin stepped through the doorway, he stepped back in time. After all, there wasn’t much age difference between Heather and Jill. His eyes widened. There was even a Justin Timberlake poster while he was with ‘N Sync. Just like the teenage Jill. A chill went through him, the tie to his wife suddenly making Heather Stevens’ death a lot more personal.
“Ramsey? You have a bag you can put these film canisters in?” Kevin checked back in, meeting his partner’s curious stare, a look that silently asked him if he was okay. “The Stevens are allowing us to develop the rolls and see if there’s anything helpful.”
Kevin reached into his coat pocket, bringing out a sealable plastic bag. “Here.”
He held it open while Adam dumped in three black plastic canisters.
“The police had already developed the film inside the camera,” her father said now. “These somehow got overlooked.” He glanced around the room and Kevin realized it had been some time, at least for him, since he’d been inside there. The older man’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “It was a confusing time.”
Mrs. Stevens handed Adam a couple yearbooks. “These are her annuals from her sophomore and junior years if you’d like to look through them.”
Adam nodded, glancing at them. “Thank you both. If anything comes to mind, any teacher Heather might have mentioned, someone she particularly liked or admired, please give us a call.”
Since Adam’s hands were full, Kevin pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to Mr. Stevens. “We appreciate you taking the time to talk to us. We’re sorry we had to bring you the news about Heather’s death.”
Mrs. Stevens attempted a smile. “I think we’ve always known Heather wouldn’t be coming back.” Her mouth trembled a bit. “If the same man has this latest little girl…well, I hope Heather’s death can somehow help you find him.”
Adam and Kevin were silent as they drove along the road. “So what was with you in the Stevens girl’s room?” Adam asked.