by J. S. Marlo
Before lying down, she’d thrown their clothes in the washer. Once they were dry, she would get dressed and fetch the food under the guise of darkness.
Her brother mumbled some incomprehensible response. As he bent to clasp his bag, pictures fell from his shirt pocket onto the bed.
Avery picked them up. “What happened to her?”
“An employee working overtime found her behind a dumpster. Her body shows signs of heavy drug use, scarring, and bruising. There were also traces of blood on the cuff of her sweater. I’m thinking overdose, but I won’t know for sure until the tox screen comes back. Your sergeant asked for pictures. He was under the impression you might know her.”
Looking slightly puzzled, Avery handed back the photos. “Reed is wrong. Do you have a name?”
Freddy shook his head.
“May I?” Hannah intercepted them before either man rejected her request.
On the first picture, a pink-haired girl lay in the snow, her jacket unzipped and her legs bent at an awkward angle. The second was a headshot with her eyes closed. If it weren’t for her ashen complexion, someone might mistake her for a sleeping angel. The girl couldn’t be more than twenty years old. The next picture showed her naked upper body. Faded scars marred her breasts, arms, and wrists.
“She…she looks familiar.” Images of similar injuries assaulted her mind. Faces of young girls sailed past her eyes. Their names, entrenched deep in her memories, soared to the surface. Jessica, Ashley, Brittany, Amber…
A wave of nausea washed over Hannah. She closed her eyes and hugged her belly. The pictures slipped from her trembling fingers.
Tears burned behind her eyelids as the girls’ names spoke of shattered innocence and lost lives. A different girl found inside a dumpster had triggered the investigation that had changed Hannah’s life. She had infiltrated the trafficking ring to rescue them, nearly blowing the operation when she didn’t recognize him in the elevator. Gramp’s illness had given her an excuse to come home and…Rory.
Sweet memories of her son filled the void in her heart.
***
An aura of contentment had descended upon Hannah, contrasting with the tears streaming down her cheeks.
Daring to hope for a sudden recovery, Avery patted her thigh. “Hannah?”
She couldn’t hear him, but he liked saying her name. Her eyes opened, and she smiled. A beautiful, peaceful smile that abruptly froze on her face.
“The light must have played a trick on me. I couldn’t have seen…I’m deaf? Why didn’t you tell me I was supposed to be deaf?” Caught in her own reality, Hannah gripped his hand. “It can’t be right. It has to be a mistake. We have to…” Her gaze travelled right, left, and center before settling on her brother. “Freddy, we need your help. Now.”
With the bloody fever hindering his ability to think clearly, Avery was relieved to see Fred appear just as baffled. “You do?”
“Yes.” A ripple of excitement bounced from Hannah’s body into his hand. “The other night, Terri Abbott stole a paternity test from Cooper’s desk who’d snatched it from Brent’s desk after he died. We need a copy of the result.”
Her brother couldn’t have looked more stunned had he caught them having sex on top of the bed. “Cooper took a paternity test?”
“Yes…no.” A low growl rumbled in Hannah’s throat. “Brent’s DNA, not Cooper’s. There isn’t that many labs, Freddy. You deal with all of them. You—”
“Those results are confidential, Hannah.” He stamped his buttocks on the edge of the bed and looked back and forth between them. “Even if I could find the lab Abbott contacted, trying to access the results is illegal and unethical.”
“In normal times, I would commend your integrity, Doc, but Cooper is the one who kidnapped, cuffed, and broke your sister’s finger.” That test yielded too much significance to too many people for Avery to ignore it. “If you’re caught, I’ll say I forced you to cooperate. Your neck won’t be the one on the line.”
“Cooper is the one who hurt Hannah?” His face hardened, releasing a torrent of sheer determination. “I’ll find a way to get those results. Anything else?”
“The man who stabbed me had an accomplice.” The gunshot resounded in Avery’s memory. For a frightful moment, he’d frozen in anticipation of the bullet that would end his life. “I may have shot him. Could you quietly check if anyone required medical attention following a gunshot?”
“Two guys showed up at my clinic as I was about to leave. Victor Young had lacerations all over his face and Matthew Russell had a gunshot wound. The bullet was gone, but he’d lost lots of blood.” A vein Avery hadn’t noticed until now pulsed erratically on Fred’s neck. “I patched them up and told Russell he should go to the hospital…it didn’t occur to me to put them out of their misery.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Her past had caught up with her, but Hannah was no closer to making sense of it.
Venturing outside in the storm to fetch the snacks had helped clear her head and pacing the bedroom as she munched on a granola bar joggled her thoughts. They needed a good shake.
“I don’t remember meeting Matt Russell, but I often heard his name. He was Terri Abbott’s high school sweetheart and best friend of her cousin Victor. Brent didn’t get along with him, but for his wife’s sake, he tolerated him.”
In the weeks leading to his disappearance, Brent’s visits to the cabin had increased in frequency. He’d brought small gifts to Rory. While her son played with his new toys, Brent had reminisced about her grandfather’s case. It’d hurt to relive that fated winter, but he hadn’t seemed to notice her anguish. Had he told her he sheltered doubts about the identity of Gramp’s killers, she would have paid more attention.
“May I ask you a question?” Stopped at the foot of the bed, she discarded the wrapper on the dresser behind her before looking Avery in the eye. “Brent’s death was ruled an accident. What made you reexamine his death? And why didn’t you trust Reed and Cooper with your findings? Did you suspect them from the beginning? I guess that’s two…three questions.”
From his pillow, Avery stared at her for the longest time. As she resigned herself to his silence, his lips moved. “A week before he disappeared, Brent called his uncle. Without providing names or specific details, he told his uncle he’d screwed up the investigation into the death of an old man, and that he could now prove the two men convicted of the crime didn’t commit it. Are you still with me so far?”
To learn that Brent had unearthed the evidence before his death stunned her. All she could do was nod once.
“The uncle is a retired Mountie and a long time friend of my boss. Upon hearing about the circumstances surrounding his nephew’s death, the uncle called my boss to defend Brent’s integrity. When the official investigation failed to substantiate even a smidgen of the uncle’s story, my boss began to suspect a cover-up.”
“You mean your boss believed in Brent’s integrity despite all the proof to the contrary?” Up until his disappearance, Brent had been nothing but a decent and honest man. When the allegations of depraved behavior surfaced, she should have known better than to take them at face value. It pained Hannah that she’d doubted him.
“My boss didn’t dispute the cause of death as much as he questioned the events leading to it.” His gaze wandered somewhere above her head as he seemed to gather his thoughts. “Over the years, I’d gained the reputation of being somewhat of a rogue. I get the job done, but I tend to interpret the rulebook rather loosely, I hate paperwork, and I enjoy a good drink. According to my boss, that made me the perfect officer to investigate the uncle’s claim.”
“You’re an undercover officer?” Despite her familiarity with undercover operations, it’d never crossed her mind that he’d been posted here on purpose. She had to give it to him, he played the role to perfection. “Is Avery Stone your real name?”
“Yes. My boss fabricated charges against me and demoted me to constable so Reed and Cooper would u
nderestimate me and not see me as a threat. I was told to trust no one.”
It shouldn’t matter, but she loved that he outranked Cooper. “You’re good, Avery. Do you have to kill me now that I know the truth?”
A smile cracked his face as tremors shook his chest. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts my shoulder.”
She’d fallen in love with the man he pretended to be, and she loved the man he really was. The killers were not taking that future away from her. “Cooper is a jerk, but do you really think he or Reed were involved in Brent’s death?”
“The archived criminal record of Noel Foley was tampered with, and the online version was erased from the database. Someone buried the evidence. Cooper and Reed are the only two people with access to both systems. One of them has to be involved.”
“But why risk their careers?” She sat on the bed near the bump made by his feet. “If Brent was killed because he was about to expose Gramp’s killers, why would Cooper or Reed go along with the cover-up? It wouldn’t have affected them.”
“It would if the killers bribe or blackmail them. Cooper and Reed may harbor more than a few secrets worth killing for.”
Worth killing Cooper, but not Brent.
“Do you know what’s really weird? The look on Terri Abbott’s face the night she sneaked inside the detachment resembled the one on the killer’s face as he walked away in the snow.” Frustrated by the tricks her memory played on her, Hannah stood and pulled her sweater over her head. “Makes no sense.”
“Maybe she reminded you of someone—what are you doing?”
“I can’t sleep with my clothes on.” She tossed her sweater on the floor and wiggled out of the sweat pants. “Stop grinning like an idiot. Young stabbed you. You’re in no shape to act on what you’re thinking. And I am not a hooker.”
His eyes shone a darker, richer shade of brown. “I was just thinking how beautiful you look in purple.”
“Yeah…right…” She turned the light off and slipped under the sheet where his strong, loving hands guided her body into a warm embrace and tucked her head against his good shoulder. Sleeping with him was tempting fate, but it’d been so long since someone held her in their arms. She missed the intimacy—the wonderful feeling of loving and being loved in return.
His fingers tripped over the straps of her bra with every tender stroke he bestowed on her back. The silent melody he played roused invisible butterflies flapping their wings beneath the surface of her skin.
“Avery…would you kiss me again? Please?”
He tipped her chin with the back of one hand and peppered kisses on her forehead, ending with a breezy caress over her lips.
“You’re teasing me.” To her disenchantment, his hand deserted her back. “Avery?”
Light blinded her. Blinking the stars away, she settled her gaze on his lips.
“As much as I love you, Hannah Parker, I’m still just a man. If I kiss you, I won’t stop until I shred your sexy purple underwear into pieces, and the only protection I’m carrying with me is my gun. I’d prefer you didn’t use it on me.”
Amusement bubbled inside her chest. He wasn’t just a man. He was a good man, a decent man.
“When Lucky met you, she fell in love with you not realizing Hannah already loved you.” Feeling secure in the love radiating from his face, she snuggled against him. “You can turn the light off, I promise to behave.”
As the room plunged into darkness, laughter rippled through his chest.
“You’re messing up my pillow, Stone. Stop laughing, or I’m not sharing my morning shower with you.”
His hand stilled on her butt cheek. A silent Good Night floated between them.
***
If you can’t bluff, take the lead. That had been one of Gramp Pike’s favorite sayings.
With Hannah’s and Stone’s lives resting squarely on his shoulders, Fred entered the detachment and put Snowflake on the counter. “I want to talk to Stone.”
Cooper greeted him with a disgruntled look. “What’s the pooch doing here? Where did you get him?”
As the constable approached the counter, Hannah’s terrier showed her teeth and growled. Unlike her paw, her instincts weren’t impaired. Easy girl. Cooper can’t know we’re onto him.
“I found her behind the clinic this morning, scratching at the door. Her paws were frozen, and she was starving. I thought Stone was taking care of her. When I stopped at his house, no one answered. This is animal negligence. I want a word with him, and I don’t care if he’s on patrol, I’ll wait.”
“Take a number, Doc.” His arms crossed over his chest, the sergeant stood in his doorway, frowning. “Stone went AWOL. When I get my hands on his sorry arse, I’m going to toss him in the drunk tank and throw the key away.”
Based on Reed’s reaction, he’d bought Fred’s performance. Gramp would be proud.
“What am I supposed to do with her? My girlfriend doesn’t want dog hair on the couch and the animal shelter is at full capacity.”
Sadly enough, Fred didn’t have to feign irritation on both counts. The injured doggie deserved better care than the one she’d receive in an overcrowded kennel. Justine had disagreed and relegated them to the basement. He’d been given one day to find an alternate arrangement, or she was moving back to St. John’s with her sister.
Hannah had wanted to keep Snowflake, but he’d insisted on taking the dog so there wouldn’t be any traces of pee or poop around his new house should someone decide to snoop around.
“The pooch is a menace, Pike. Do everyone a favor and put him down.” Cooper’s disdain for the animal oozed from every pore of his body. “With your sister gone, no one will miss him.”
The officer’s callous attitude irked Fred. Cooper knew Hannah was alive. Deep inside he should have been worried she would report him, but the dirt bag acted like he was above the law.
“With Stone missing, Coop is pulling double duty, and he’s tired. He doesn’t mean it.” The sergeant’s excuses didn’t impress Fred. “Right, Cooper?”
“Course not.” Showing no more visible interest in the visitors, the constable returned to his desk.
“Why don’t you ask your patients, Doc. I’m sure one of them will take the dog off your hands.”
The suggestion had merit. It might have conned a stranger into thinking the sergeant cared, but Fred wasn’t fooled. “I should have thought about that.”
Reed nodded. “Do you have an update on the dead dumpster woman?”
“She used a thick coat of body makeup to conceal her scars. I’m thinking stripper or hooker. Her prints are not in the system, and no one matching her description has been reported missing in the last six months. I have the pictures.” After showing them to Hannah and Stone, Fred had wiped their prints.
One couldn’t be too careful.
Chapter Forty-Four
With all the sleeping Avery had enjoyed in response to the painkillers he’d swallowed, his body had left an imprint in the plush mattress. And with the heavy pacing he’d witnessed during his period of consciousness, the brand new blue carpet had started showing signs of wear and tear under Hannah’s bare feet.
As the day progressed, she’d grown more agitated and left the warm confine of his arms. She didn’t open up on what bothered her, and he didn’t ask, but he suspected the paternity test played a role.
His stomach growled, the churning pain greater than the one radiating from his upper back. As he propped himself against his pillow, he stretched his stiff, achy shoulder, gradually relaxing the muscles.
“The storm is over, Freddy. Where are you? It will be dark soon.” The silence bathing the room amplified her words. “If I turn the lamp on, the light will filter around the blinds. Anyone riding along the edge of the woods will see it.”
In the dark, she couldn’t hear. That would be another reason to make her anxious but there was always the bathroom. It had no window, only a door facing the hallway wall. A cozy chat under hot water would sooth both their
spirits. She had promised him a shower. Now might be a good time to collect on—
“Why the quizzical look?” In her pink downy bathrobe, she looked like an angel with broken wings. “Was I talking to myself out loud?”
“It was more like a whisper. Hannah…I’m here if you want to talk.”
She joined him, and to his pleasure, she cuddled into his arms. “For years, the image of Gramp’s killer haunted me. Since Terri stole the test, I’m seeing her face. I even dreamed of her last night. I swear my subconscious wants her dead.”
His gaze locked on hers, he gently stroked her cheek. “What happened between you, Brent, and Terri? Were you in love with him? How did he end up with her?”
A forlorn sigh whished through her lips. “There are just so many storms someone can weather before being buried alive. Terri was the last storm, and she swept Brent off his feet. I didn’t fight for him…didn’t even try. Maybe I didn’t love him enough.”
“Or maybe you loved him enough to let him go.” Either way, the corporal had been an idiot for letting Hannah slip through his fingers. His loss, my gain.
Soft chuckles shook her body. “Trust me, Stone, I’m not that noble. If another woman made a claim on you and you showed interest in her, I’d ship you back to her—in tiny pieces.”
“There’s no other woman, Hannah. There hasn’t been any in a long time.” He teasingly parted her robe, revealing a tender breast to his touch. No woman had ever hindered his ability to breathe—let alone think—like the amazing creature in his bed. She was irresistible, and wherever that sexy purple bra had gone, his willpower threatened to follow. “You think Rory might like having a baby sister?”
A rosy tinge flushed her skin, blending with the bathrobe. “I’m not raising a second child on my own.”
“No, you’re not, so let me rephrase.” Rory’s father had been another bloody idiot for abandoning her. Starting now, Avery intended to provide a much better role model to his little man. “Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife and the mother of our children?”