Cold Case Recruit

Home > Other > Cold Case Recruit > Page 7
Cold Case Recruit Page 7

by Jennifer Morey


  “No. He didn’t have time. We were interrupted when a man came to the table and needed to talk to him. It seemed urgent. Duty called.” She breathed another laugh, this one less sad. “He had to leave.”

  “Was your friend’s brother involved in any suspicious activities?”

  “No. Her brother was pretty straight. That’s one of the things that bored me about him. He didn’t even drink. And I mean, not even one. I don’t like to go out and get hammered, but I enjoy an occasional glass of wine. My friend wasn’t a drinker, either. Her whole family was that way. Maybe that’s why it’s so hard for her to forgive me. She lives so simply. When I ended things so abruptly, and I admit, with not much finesse—I just told him not to call me anymore—I think that shocked her as much as it hurt him.” She sighed. “Anyway, nothing I can do about it now.” She looked from him to Drury and back again. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

  “I don’t think so. Thanks, Cora.” Brycen hadn’t expected this to lead to anything.

  “I hope you catch him.” She left their table and went back to work. As she did so, he thought he would have to do just that. A criminal had gotten away with attempted rape. He couldn’t allow that. Ever since leaving Alaska, he’d received immense satisfaction catching criminals. He had control over solving the cases. He’d had no control over what had driven him to leave.

  As he drifted off into that depressing thought, he spotted a woman watching him. And she wasn’t a fan.

  “Let’s go.” He stood up.

  “Hey, no,” Drury protested. “I’m hungry. What’s the matter?” She twisted around.

  Seeing Avery Jefferson get up and walk toward him, Brycen headed for the door.

  *

  What the hell? Drury got up from the table, her stomach growling, and went after Brycen. She stopped when she saw a woman in a figure-hugging, knee-length blue dress with blond hair up in a prim bun intercept him in the entry. She was tall and slender, with frail shoulders and arms, her oval face and dark eyes bearing the stamp of indignation.

  “What are you doing back here?” the woman asked.

  Drury stopped before the entry, uncomfortable with spying, but also needing to know more about Brycen’s past.

  “I’m not breaking any laws by being here, Avery.” Brycen pushed the lapels of his jacket aside as he put his hands on his hips, tall and imposing, but Drury didn’t think the woman recognized the pained tightness of his jaw or the flaring wariness in his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m not back permanently.”

  The woman took in his posture, misreading it, Drury was sure. Disdain radiated from her. “If Dad finds out you’re here, he’ll have a coronary.”

  “Don’t tell him, then.” He turned and resumed his trek toward the door. “I should have known nothing would have changed by now.”

  The woman trotted in her heels. “I can’t believe you had the gall to show your face here again.”

  “Good to see you, too.” Brycen opened the door.

  The woman planted her hand on his chest, stopping him from leaving. “Why are you here?”

  Drury stepped forward. Brycen didn’t see her, letting the door close again.

  “You have no idea what our family has been through,” the woman ranted. “You ruined our lives! Why don’t you just leave and never come back? We thought you’d gone for good, but then a few years ago Harry at the real estate office told Dad you still had that cabin. Ever since then he’s been plagued with the anxiety that you’d return. He never wants to see you again, Brycen. None of us do. I’m glad I’m the one who ran into you first.” She had a haughty air about her, both in the tone of her high, smooth voice, and the way she used her jewel-adorned hands as she talked.

  What had Brycen done to upset her and her father so much? And to harbor the feeling for so long...

  With a somber, taxed face, Brycen didn’t respond at first. Then he said, “I don’t know how many different ways I can apologize, Avery. My apology is all I can give you. It’s all I’ve ever had. I never meant anyone any harm.”

  Someone was harmed? Who? Drury stepped forward again, not wanting to eavesdrop without them knowing she was there.

  “You’re not sorry.” Avery sneered. “You left us in ruins and went off to become a celebrity. It’s bad enough we have you in our past, but to have to see you on television?” She made a sound of disgust. “It took Dad a month to recover from that news.”

  “You and your father are still blaming everyone else for your unhappiness, I see.”

  “You’re the heartless one, Brycen Cage.”

  Brycen noticed Drury and pushed the door open, forcing Avery to drop her hand and step back.

  Drury followed him, giving the woman an admonishing but incredulous look as she passed. Regardless of what Brycen had done all those years ago, her personal attack had seemed unjustified, more like a retaliation, and exactly what Brycen had said. Blame.

  “I’d watch out for him if I were you,” Avery said to her back.

  Drury ignored her and hurried after Brycen. When she caught up to him, she had to walk fast and jog intermittently to keep up.

  “I don’t suppose you want to tell me what that was all about?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Who is Avery?”

  “Nobody.” His hard, long strides put an exclamation point on the end of that.

  “I believe that you meant no harm. Whatever it is you did.”

  “Just drop it, Drury. This qualifies as something personal. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Off-limits. He’d conveniently laid down the law. They didn’t talk about anything personal. He wouldn’t talk. She’d have to respect that for now. What had he done to turn a family against him? It must be something serious, despite Avery’s air of superiority.

  Chapter 4

  Carter had a helicopter waiting for them the next day. Brycen said very little to Drury on the way to Mica Island. He wished she hadn’t witnessed his encounter with Avery. He’d hoped things had changed in the decade or so he’d been gone. Absolutely nothing had changed. The same stench and rot he’d left remained. The disappointment after learning that stayed with him, dragging him down and thrusting him back in time, back into memories he wished he could forget forever.

  “That must be it.” Drury’s voice came through the headphones. She pointed through the side window in the back.

  Evette and Melvin Cummings lived near Tate, Alaska, a tiny village southeast of Anchorage. No airstrips had been built in the mountainous terrain. The only way in was by boat, helicopter or air with water landing. The helicopter pilot began to descend. A ramshackle cabin came into view, completely isolated and about twenty miles from the village, which had a population of less than two hundred and had recently lost their sheriff, who’d moved to the Lower 48 last year.

  The landing chopper got the attention of the inhabitants, who appeared on their front porch. As the helicopter touched down, Brycen studied Evette. Wearing a long dress and a shawl, she stood away from her husband, on one side of the porch, with a downturned mouth. Melvin, on the other hand, stood tall and imposing in front of the door with an assault rifle in his hands, also with a downturned mouth, but in a menacing way, whereas his wife seemed to live in constant fear and unhappiness.

  Brycen took out his pistol and readied it to fire.

  Drury looked over at him as he did so.

  “Just in case.” He tucked the gun back into its holster under his jacket.

  Opening the door, he jumped down and turned to help Drury. She hesitated but then let him put his hands on her waist and lift her down. As she stood before him, close enough to feel her breasts against him, he stepped back. He couldn’t even touch her without having a sexual reaction. It was like touching a live wire.

  Walking toward the cabin, he kept her behind him in case this hillbilly decided to start shooting. He held up his hand in greeting. People who lived like this had their own method of defense.

  T
he closer he came, the more he saw Evette. He climbed up the porch steps. Dark circles under her eyes. Chapped hands and lips. Wrenching emptiness in her eyes. And most infuriating of all, the faint signs of a healing bruise along the corner of her lower lip.

  “Who the hell are you?” Melvin asked, a man hiding behind his ego.

  Brycen had to work hard to stop himself from grabbing the man and giving him a memorable taste of what he inflicted on his wife.

  “Brycen Cage and Drury Decoteau,” he said, indicating Drury standing to his right at the top of the porch steps. “We’re here to ask you some questions about Noah Decoteau’s death.”

  “I’ve already answered questions. Police already came here. Been here two, three times in the last year.”

  “I’m not from the police,” Brycen said. “I’m with a private investigation agency.”

  “Then I don’t have to talk to you. So why don’t you get back on that helicopter and be on your way?”

  Brycen turned to Evette. “Mrs. Cummings, I’d like a word with you alone if I could.”

  “She ain’t talking to you.” Melvin sent a threatening look to her. “Get inside where you belong.”

  She started to move toward the door behind Melvin.

  Brycen used his distraction to his advantage. He knocked Melvin’s arm and had the rifle in his possession. Using the butt of the rifle, he gave the arrogant, worthless man a good knock on his jaw. Brycen heard Drury gasp as Melvin stumbled back and fell against the door, making Evette flinch and then gape at Brycen.

  “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear,” Brycen said.

  Melvin stared at him, still against the door, now having no illusions about the kind of man who stood before him.

  “We can do this in a civil fashion.” Brycen released the magazine from the rifle and tossed it to the ground behind him. “Or we can do more of this. Either way, I’m going to talk to your wife.”

  After wiping some blood off his jaw, Melvin straightened from the door.

  “You know.” Brycen pressed the bolt catch and then pulled back the charging handle, sending the round flying from the chamber. “I’m always amazed how a man as big as yourself can be so puny.” He inspected the chamber to ensure that it held no more ammunition, and then admired the weapon. Rather nice for a villager. “Do you enjoy hurting your wife?”

  “What?” The man shifted from one foot to the other in an attempt to look macho. “I don’t hurt her. Do I, honey?”

  Evette turned frightened eyes to him and shook her head.

  Brycen used the butt of the rifle to hit the side of Melvin’s temple, sending him back against the door again, only this time he slumped to the wood planks of the porch.

  “What the...” He put a hand to his temple, at first taken aback and then angry. He climbed to his feet, staring Brycen down, or attempting to.

  “I don’t like liars.” Brycen leaned the rifle against the railing next to the stairs. “You and I both know Evette called for help a year ago, and you and I both know why. So, since you don’t want her to talk, why don’t you start by telling me why she didn’t press charges?”

  “We had a fight.” Melvin took a brave step forward. “That’s what married couples do. Fight.”

  “They don’t have one-sided fistfights. Try again. I asked you why she didn’t press charges.”

  “She forgave me, that’s why.”

  In the time it took the troopers to reach her? “So, you admit to hitting her.”

  “I admit to nothing. You ain’t no cop.” He made the mistake of lunging for Brycen with a fist.

  Drury jumped out of the way, grabbing hold of the railing on that side of the porch as Brycen easily blocked the man. Turning, he grabbed him and rolled him over his back. Melvin fell down the porch steps.

  Going down after him, Brycen leaned over. “I’m much worse than a cop, Melvin. You’re going to wish you wouldn’t have threatened Evette not to press charges.”

  “I didn’t threaten her.” He crawled away from Brycen and stood.

  “I don’t think you heard me.” Brycen moved toward him.

  “Brycen,” Drury warned.

  “Listen to your lady, mister. I got no quarrel with you. Just leave and don’t come back.”

  While Melvin had begun to show signs of fear, Brycen worried if he left as requested, what would happen to Evette? Would Melvin take out his injured pride on her?

  Melvin made the decision over whether or not to give him a warning easy. He lunged again, all bravado and ego, with fists balled.

  Brycen swatted his hands away and punched Melvin’s nose. His head jerked back and he stumbled.

  Crowding the man, Brycen forced him to step backward with his sheer size. Melvin was a thick man but not as big as Brycen. He shoved him to change directions, around the side of the porch, away from the women.

  “You have no right coming here.”

  With one more shove, the man came against the side of the house.

  Taking a fistful of the man’s uncombed hair, Brycen leaned closer, looking dead into the man’s cold eyes. “If I find out you hurt her, I’ll come back here and put you in the hospital. Do you understand?”

  Melvin reacted in offense to the threat of serious harm. “Get off my land. You ain’t welcome here.”

  “No,” Brycen said. “I don’t think you do.” He pulled his head toward him and then slammed it back against the wood siding, hard enough to cause a bump.

  The man grimaced.

  “Do you understand now?”

  “Just leave, please,” Evette pleaded, beginning to cry.

  Drury went to her, putting her hand on her shoulder.

  Brycen let go of Melvin’s head and then moved into a kick, hitting the man’s sternum. As Melvin groaned and fell to his knees, Brycen grabbed him and put him back against the house, giving him two more well-placed punches in the sternum.

  “Now I think you understand.” Brycen let him go.

  He slumped to the ground, holding his middle and lifting his bleeding face. “I didn’t threaten her. She decided on her own not to press charges. Tell the man, Evette!” He rolled to his rear.

  “H-he didn’t threaten me,” Evette said. “I forgave him. Please, mister. Leave us be. It’s best that way.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that, ma’am. An Alaskan State Trooper was murdered shortly after coming to your house in answer to your call for help. Now I’m visiting everyone he came into contact with before his death. I need to eliminate your husband’s involvement.”

  “I didn’t have anything to do with his murder.” Still holding his middle, Melvin used the side of the house to stand. “My wife didn’t press charges. Why would I kill the cop who came here?”

  “That’s what I need you to tell me.”

  “Well, I can’t tell you. I don’t know how or why that officer was killed.”

  At least he talked freer now. He understood what kind of man he’d come up against.

  “Evette?” Brycen said. “What about you?”

  Her gaze flew to Melvin. “No, I don’t know anything about that cop. I’m sorry he’s dead, but I had nothing to do with it.”

  “I didn’t think you did, ma’am.” He took in her stiff, fear-stricken stance up on the porch next to Drury and said gently, “You can come with us right now, you know. We’ll fly you away from him. I have resources that can help you relocate. Get reestablished. You’ll never have to see him again.”

  For a moment, he thought she’d contemplate doing just that. But then defeat brought her back on down. “I have children.”

  “Bring them with you.”

  “They’re at school.” She shook her head. “No, thank you, sir. I’ll stay here with my husband.”

  With that, Melvin relaxed, turning to Brycen with smug triumph. “You see? She loves me. She wouldn’t stay otherwise.”

  Drury grunted in disbelief, drawing Melvin’s unappreciative look.

  “Why don’t you step down and come talk
to me, Mrs. Cummings?” Brycen moved back from the porch, away from Melvin.

  She looked at Melvin, who nodded once. Had she assured him that she’d not betray him, so he felt confident in allowing her to speak alone with Brycen?

  Melvin climbed the porch steps as though each breath and step pained him. Drury reached to help him but he waved her away.

  Out of hearing distance from Melvin, Brycen kept his tone low. “Mrs. Cummings, is there anything you can tell me about that day Trooper Noah Decoteau came here?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’m sorry I called. I overreacted.”

  He looked down at her healing bruise. “Did you?”

  “Please, Mr. Cage. You have to leave. My husband does have a temper, but he’s a good man. He loves me and the kids.”

  “A good man doesn’t beat his wife, Mrs. Cummings. He has no right to hurt you. And he better not hurt your kids.”

  Again, she shook her head, more adamantly now. “No. He doesn’t hit them.” Tears sprang to her eyes.

  “He only hits you, then?”

  She said nothing.

  He hoped she told the truth. He checked on Melvin, who stood on the porch talking to Drury. She kept a good distance from the man.

  “I think you should come with us.” He had a bad feeling about her reasons for staying, but most of all about Melvin.

  She put her hand on his arm. “You’re a good man, Mr. Cage. You don’t hit those you love. But I’m fine. And I will be fine. My entire family lives in the village. I can’t just up and leave.”

  “Yes, you can. I can help you.”

  “No, I can’t.” She shook her head. “I’ll be fine.” She would not change her mind, not today.

  Brycen took out his card and handed it to her. “If you need me, call. I can take care of Melvin so he will never hurt you again.”

  She took the card and tucked it under her shawl, going back toward the porch. Brycen followed, stopping at the foot of the porch. Evette went inside without looking back.

  Drury joined Brycen down on the ground. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Don’t make me have to come back here,” he said to Melvin, and then he let Drury take him toward the helicopter.

 

‹ Prev