by Connie Mann
When he pulled in next to Mama Rosa’s Buick, he kept his headlights on as he climbed out of his truck. “Cat? Blaze?”
“Over here!” Cat called.
He turned and saw a beam of light signaling from inside the woods. One hand on his gun and his Maglite in the other, he headed that way, shocked when Blaze leaped up and wrapped her arms around his waist.
Nick hugged her back, tightening his grip when he felt her tears soak his shirt. Gently, he eased her away, pulled his handkerchief from his pocket, and handed it to her. She sent him a watery smile and mopped her face.
“Can you tell me what happened?” He stepped around her, then crouched over Teddy’s body and exchanged a quick glance with Cat.
“Teddy was lying on his stomach when we found him. But we rolled him over and tried to do CPR.”
“We had to try,” Blaze added, chin in the air just like Eve and Sasha.
Unfortunately, they’d probably destroyed evidence in the process, but he let it go. He leaned closer, trying to get a whiff of anything unusual. Poison. Drugs. “How did you know he was here?”
When he glanced up at Cat, she stood slightly in front of Blaze, as though protecting her from the sight of Teddy’s body.
“He called me,” Blaze said. “While we were at the reception. He-he said he was in trouble and told me to come right away.”
Nick stood so fast Blaze backed up a step. “Why didn’t you call me right then?”
At his shout, Blaze covered her head with her hands. “I don’t know! I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to get here, to try to help him!”
Nick turned to Cat. “You drove?”
At her nod, he repeated his question, louder. “Why didn’t you call me, then?”
Cat fisted her hands on her hips at his tone. “I wasn’t sure what we were getting into, and Blaze was desperate, so I came along.”
“You both could have been walking into a dangerous situation!” As Blaze seemed to shrink into herself at his tone, he lowered his voice. All the things that could have happened raced through his mind, but he pushed them aside. Right now, he had a job to do. “What time did you girls get here?”
Blaze wiped her tears with her arm. “I don’t know.”
“Probably about seven thirty,” Cat said. “It wasn’t full dark yet when we arrived.”
Nick scanned the area. “How did you know to check back here?”
Again, Blaze glanced at Cat before she answered. “We didn’t, not at first. We saw his car and started calling his name, but h-he didn’t answer. Cat used her keychain flashlight, and we started walking farther and farther from the car. Cat tripped and almost fell on him.”
A nod from Cat confirmed Blaze’s version of events.
“Was he alive when you arrived?” He directed the question to Cat, who gave a quick negative shake of her head. So she’d done CPR for Blaze’s sake. But had she intentionally destroyed evidence in the process? He’d check on that. Later. “He was on his stomach, you said?”
Cat described the position of the body in the same straightforward terms she’d used on the phone. “I take it this isn’t your first dead”—he caught himself at a cry from Blaze—“person.”
Again, the quick negative shake of Cat’s head. She had her arms tightly crossed over her chest, but then she stepped over to Blaze and simply put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. Blaze flinched but didn’t step away, a testament to how shook up she must be. The teen was seriously averse to being touched. He studied their long gowns and Cat’s bare feet, then pulled out his little notebook. “What time did Teddy leave the reception?”
“Right after we danced. They were just starting to serve dinner, but he got a text and said he had to go.”
All things that would be easily checked, but Nick would start a timeline now. “Did you see him talking with anyone at the reception?”
Blaze shrugged. “There weren’t a lot of people our age. His mom is friends with Cole’s mom, so I think that’s why Cole invited his family.”
Nick looked the teen right in the eye. “Was he involved with drugs?”
Blaze’s already-pale face whitened even more, and she looked away, a flash of guilt in her eyes that immediately disappeared. “What? No. Never. Teddy wasn’t—”
“What aren’t you telling me, Blaze?” he demanded as he stepped closer.
Her head snapped around to him. “Nothing. I don’t know anything.” She blinked back sudden tears. “How can he be dead? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“That’s what I’m going to find out. You guys were pretty close, right? Did he have any health issues that you knew of? A heart condition, diabetes, epilepsy?” Things he would check, of course, but he wanted her take. He’d find out what she was hiding, too.
A blush stole over her cheeks at the mention of their relationship. “He was my friend. I liked him. A lot. I don’t think he was sick.”
Without warning, Blaze buried her head in her hands and burst into loud sobbing.
This time, Cat slid her arm around the girl’s shoulders and held tight. “Can I take her home now?”
He nodded. “I’ll let you know if I have any more questions. And, Blaze, let’s keep this off social media for now, OK?”
“Like I would ever,” she muttered and then followed Cat back to Mama Rosa’s car.
Nick watched them go, trying to get a handle on Cat. She was obviously protective of Blaze, and based on her demeanor, she’d seen a dead body before. Her utter calm and aloof attitude intrigued him, though he figured she hoped it would keep him at arm’s length. “Not a chance, lady.” Not when he had a dead teenager on his hands.
He returned his attention to Teddy, scanning the body as he called dispatch to get some extra hands out there, then asked them to call the county coroner, too. He didn’t bother to call the chief. He’d show up soon enough, no doubt right after he’d called the press.
Monroe’s love of the spotlight got under Nick’s skin, no question, but he shrugged it off. While he waited, he studied the body, took a few pics with his cell phone. He’d make sure the coroner ran a battery of drug tests to try to figure out why an apparently healthy teenager was dead.
In the meantime, his job was to gather as much evidence at the scene as he could. Then he’d try to figure out who had wanted the boy dead.
Cat started the Buick with hands that badly wanted to shake. When she’d first seen Teddy’s body, for one insane second she’d thought it was Daniel, and her heart had taken a direct hit. Even after all these years, she still missed him, still wondered what would have become of them if her uncle and Garcia—she didn’t even want to think his name—hadn’t poisoned him. And now seeing Teddy like that, hair the same blond as Daniel’s, same shape and build. When she’d seen Blaze dancing with him at the wedding reception, her first glimpse had given her a jolt, and just like that, she was fifteen again, in love with the most beautiful boy she’d ever seen. And then she’d seen the longing on Blaze’s face and known exactly what the other girl was thinking and feeling.
When she’d found a frantic Blaze in the parking lot, fumbling with the keys to the Buick, of course she’d gone along. How could she have turned away?
Beside her, Blaze stared out the window, arms wrapped tight around herself, silent tears pouring down her face. Cat understood, more than the girl would ever know. She’d been frantic, too, that long-ago day. She still woke in the night, hearing that awful choking sound echoing in her mind as she desperately tried to find Daniel, to save him.
After she’d escaped from her uncle’s, she’d tried to find Daniel’s house, to see if he’d somehow made it home, but his number was unlisted and she hadn’t known where he lived. She’d hopped on a bus, and then, days later, when she was far away from the Miami high-rise, she’d seen Daniel’s smiling face plastered all over the news. His body had been found deep in the Everglades, and he’d been identified by his dental records. Cat brushed at her cheeks, surprised to find them streaked with tears,
even now. Oh, Daniel. The gators had gotten to him.
Fury flashed through her. They’d killed him, and they’d never been punished. She’d wanted to go to the police, to tell them what she knew, but it wouldn’t have made any difference. Both Garcia and her uncle had been questioned and released. Then her uncle had gone on television, all sadness and concern, asking people to help find her. He’d been very convincing. She knew the police were looking for her, too, had labeled her a person of interest. If they found her, they’d never believe her. Not then. Not now.
She couldn’t take the risk.
Even if by some miracle the authorities believed her story, she had no proof. Once she came out of hiding, her life wouldn’t be worth spit. Her uncle would either have her killed, if he didn’t do it himself, or he’d turn her over to Garcia. To welch on his deal with Garcia by not delivering her as promised meant his reputation was on the line. That could never be tolerated.
Once Garcia had her, he’d either kill her outright or use her first and then kill her. Of that, she had absolutely no doubt.
Because she ran away, both men’s pride had taken a hit, and that was unpardonable. According to the newspaper articles she’d read using public library computers, people associated with her uncle and Garcia had died for far less.
Both of them had been arrested but never charged with a variety of crimes over the years, including murder, which told her they had friends in high places. Coming forward wouldn’t get justice for Daniel. But it would get her dead. She knew she had to keep moving, stay under the radar. Always.
“You have to help me figure out what happened.”
Cat blinked, pulled back from the past to find Blaze aiming an accusing glare her way. “What?”
“You have to help me figure out why Teddy is dead.”
Cat glanced at her, then looked back at the road. “Nick will figure it out. He’s a good cop, right?”
“The best.”
“Then let him do his job and get to the bottom of it.”
“I can’t just wait around and do nothing.”
“Look, Blaze—” she began.
“Don’t you dare pat me on the head and treat me like I’m a little kid. I’m tough. I can help.”
Cat sent her a quick smile. “No doubt. I heard you kicked some serious butt the day Leon Daughtry went after Eve and Cole about the poisoned well.” Then she sobered. “And you protected Mama Rosa, too. Way to go, Blaze. That took some serious guts.”
“So you’ll help me?”
“No. Look, Blaze, I’m not a cop or an investigator. Let Nick do his job.”
“You carry a sweet knife.”
“I do. For protection. I work in some, shall we say, rough neighborhoods.”
“Doing what?”
“I play the fiddle in a club.” Or at least she had, but Cat didn’t want to get into all that with the too-smart teen.
“That’s way cool.” She sighed. “I guess you probably have to get back to work soon.” Then her expression turned pleading. “But could you just help me until you have to go?”
Cat felt trapped. “What do you really think happened, Blaze? And don’t give me the same answer you gave Nick.”
Blaze shook her head, eyes filled with both sadness and confusion. And a touch of wariness that tripped Cat’s well-honed lie detector. “I don’t know. That’s what’s making me crazy.”
“Don’t know. Or won’t say?”
“I told you I don’t know.” Blaze looked out the window, then back at Cat, scowling.
Cat sighed. Changed gears. “Is it possible he had some kind of health condition or something, like Nick said?”
“I don’t think so. He was a total health nut, always eating fruits and veggies and stuff.”
“Was he an athlete?”
“Not really, but he jogged a lot. He said it cleared his head. If he had some kind of disease, he wouldn’t have done that, right?”
“I don’t know.”
“His mom is just going to die when she finds out.” More tears fell as she gazed out the window. “This is all so wrong.”
Cat couldn’t agree more, but since Blaze wouldn’t confide in her, they spent the rest of the trip to the marina in silence.
As she climbed out of the Buick, Blaze turned to her once more. “Please, Cat—”
Cat shook her head. “I’m sorry. I need to leave tomorrow. I had planned to leave today. I have to get back.”
Blaze nodded and hung her head, then disappeared into the house. Cat put her head on the steering wheel. The expression on the girl’s face would haunt her for a long time. She understood exactly what it was like to be all alone with a problem you couldn’t solve.
But Cat couldn’t help her. She’d always known her uncle and Garcia would never stop looking for her. She’d never risk them finding her here and bringing danger to the Martinellis. Sal and Mama Rosa, Sasha, Eve, and Blaze—they’d all been there for her. She wouldn’t repay them this way. She’d probably already stayed too long.
Besides, if she stayed, Officer Stanton would want to talk to her again. She couldn’t risk him digging into her past, either. Never mind the sense of safety she’d felt in his arms and the way his sad eyes tugged at her heart. She had to go.
But as she lay in the narrow twin bed under the eaves later that night, it wasn’t Nick’s face she saw. Her mind kept flashing back and forth between Daniel’s face and Teddy’s. Both sweet boys, both dead for no reason. She slapped a palm against the faded quilt and squeezed her eyes shut. But that didn’t help, because then Blaze’s desperate face called out to her and accused her of being a coward. She wished there was a way to help, something she could do that wouldn’t bring danger to her family’s door.
But there wasn’t. There never had been. And the sooner she packed and left, the safer they would be.
Just like always. She only hoped it wasn’t too late.
Chapter 5
As if on cue, Chief Monroe showed up with lights flashing and sirens blaring, the press right on his tail. He swaggered out of his police car and walked over to Nick as though he were glad-handing at an election rally. “What have we got here, Officer Stanton?”
Nick raised a brow at the formal greeting while, behind him, Avery Ames from the Gazette stood poised with a recorder in her hand, her inquisitive eyes bright despite the late hour.
Nick glanced from Monroe to Avery and back again. “Why don’t we step over here?” He turned to the reporter. “You’ll have to wait behind the yellow line, ma’am.” He nodded to their newest officer, John Dempsey—JD—who was cordoning off the area with bright crime scene tape. The kid looked about twelve, and though his eyes held the excitement of an important case, his skin had a decidedly greenish cast to it.
Monroe looked like he wanted to argue, but he stepped farther away, out of the reporter’s hearing. “What in blazes happened here, Stanton?”
Nick had told him they had a dead teen but hadn’t said his name over the radio. No way would he let that out before his parents were notified. He inclined his head, led the chief over to the body, and then watched the color drain out of the other man’s face. Just like Dempsey had, Monroe turned a sickly shade of green under the work lights that had been set up to illuminate the scene.
“That’s Theodore Winston.” Monroe wiped a shaky hand over his face. “Oh, my sweet Lord, this is going to kill his mama.” He turned to Nick. “Walk me through it.”
“I got a call from Cat Johnson that she—”
“Who is Cat Johnson?”
“One of the Martinelli girls. She’s in town for Eve’s wedding.”
Monroe frowned. “They used to call her Cathy. And she’s been nothing but trouble from day one.”
“How so?” After Eve and her well-intentioned crusading for various causes over the years, how much worse could this sister be?
“She went to high school here, but she always seemed to be looking over her shoulder, or looking right past you, like you didn�
�t exist. Kept to herself, didn’t talk much, but seemed to watch everything and everyone. Which would have been OK, except she started hanging out with the Miller girl. That one was nothing but trouble, took drugs, eventually ended up in rehab. Figured Cathy would end up the same way, except she disappeared one night while she was still in high school, and nobody knew where she went for a long time.”
Interesting. He’d have to look into all that, Nick thought. “Where did you finally find her?”
“We didn’t. One day a couple weeks later, Sal Martinelli came into the station and said they’d talked with Cathy and she was fine, living with a family out West somewhere. Asked us to stop looking.”
Nick stiffened at the mention of Sal’s name. In recent months, Sal had tried to make up for the past, but Nick wasn’t ready to let bygones be bygones. Not when the man had essentially sanctioned Nick’s kidnapping. He wasn’t sure he’d ever understand how a father could keep silent about what happened to his child—even if he believed his silence was protecting his wife and the rest of his family. Nick shook off the lingering anger and kept his face blank as he asked, “Was Sal telling the truth?”
“He had no reason to lie.” Monroe turned to the body and crouched down with clear effort, his sagging belly getting in the way. “No obvious signs of a struggle.” He looked up at Nick. “You find any needle marks, signs of drug use?”
Nick had checked. Arms, legs, between fingers and toes. He hadn’t found anything. “Do you know if Theodore had any medical issues?”
Monroe’s head snapped up. “Not that I know of. But that would explain a lot. Wouldn’t it?”
Dr. Alfred Henry, a retired doctor who still served as the county coroner, arrived, and they exchanged greetings while he examined the body. “He hasn’t been dead long. No obvious signs of trauma or asphyxiation, but I’ll run a tox screen, check for any undiagnosed conditions. I’ll also check the body and under his nails for any signs of a struggle.” He bagged Teddy’s hands before he zipped his body into a body bag. Nick followed the stretcher to a waiting vehicle. “Doc, would you run a full drug panel? Since I couldn’t find any needle marks, I’m especially looking for drugs or poisons that could be either ingested or inhaled.”