Cold Case Recruit

by Jennifer Morey

  “He won’t be, honey. Nobody can take the place of your father.”

  “Daddy’s coming back. He doesn’t belong here!”

  “You don’t mean that. Brycen does belong here.” Sliding her hand from his back, she touched his arm. She needed to get his attention, to calm his temper. Make him understand. She berated herself for not sitting down with him before now and having a very frank talk. She’d explained about Noah, that he wouldn’t be coming back because someone had hurt him badly and he had to go to heaven. How did a mother explain to her child that someone had actually murdered his dad? Killed him dead? She didn’t have the heart to then and still didn’t. But she had to.

  Junior knew people died, but somewhere along the way he’d let his imagination take over. Denial made it easier.

  “Junior, your daddy isn’t coming home. I’ve told you that.”

  “Yes, he is!” He jumped up off the bed and faced her. “He’s coming back! You just don’t want him to!”

  Drury reached out and took each of his hands. “It’s time you accept the fact that your father has passed away.”

  “No, he hasn’t!” He jerked his hands away.

  She took them again and pulled him to her. She brought him against her and held him. “You have to stop imagining he’s still alive, honey.” She could feel him begin to breathe heavier as anger gave way to sadness and he fought tears.

  “I’m so sorry.” She had to fight her own tears. Seeing him this way tore at her soul. “He was killed, Junior. He’s dead.” She leaned back and held his face between her hands. “Do you understand what that means? He can’t come back to us. As much as we want him to, he isn’t coming back. Not ever.”

  “Stop it! No!” He batted his tiny hands on her upper chest.

  She took his hands in hers to still them.

  “He’s coming back!” he yelled right at her face.

  Drury held on to her resolve. “Do you know what it means when someone dies?”

  “Daddy’s not dead.” Tears streamed down his cheeks, breaking her heart even more. “Dead people are in graveyards.”

  “Yes, that’s true. Remember his funeral? That was at a graveyard.”

  Crying from deep within but not sobbing, he looked forlorn and empty. She could barely take seeing him like this. Taking him into her arms again, she simply held him. “I’m so sorry.”

  Maybe, after a long year of silence and confusion, of incomprehensible disbelief, he’d finally broken through. This meltdown might have released pent-up grief, grief a young boy had not understood. Otherwise, he would have told her. Junior before Noah’s death had been talkative and loud and full of play. He liked lazy mornings when they’d make dinner instead of breakfast and watch movies until midafternoon. When he had homework he did it with enthusiasm. At school he did well and interacted with the other kids. She missed that little boy.

  “Where did he go?” he asked quietly.

  She leaned back and put her hands on his small shoulders. “He went to heaven.”

  “What’s heaven?”

  She’d taught him about heaven before, but he must not believe anymore. As he grew up, he’d make up his own mind what to believe about the afterlife. Drury kept an open mind on religion. She believed in the existence of a divine energy that could be called God. “Heaven is what people call the place we go when we die. We go to be with God.”

  He sniffled. “Is it real?”

  “Nobody knows exactly what it’s like when we die. No one alive can experience it before it happens. But it’s a good and loving place. Your father isn’t in any pain. He isn’t lonely or unhappy. He’s just waiting to see us again, and he’ll wait until it’s our time to go and be with him, which will be a very long time.”

  Junior searched her face and eyes, an innocent child needing to find the truth. “But he didn’t want to be with God instead of us, did he?”

  “None of us want to die. But once we do, we’re okay and we’re surrounded by love.”

  “Did the bad man force him to go there?”

  “By killing him, yes.” She hated even saying that. But Junior received it better than she expected.

  “Why can’t we see him anymore?” he finally asked.

  How could she answer that question? “Because he isn’t in his human body anymore. That’s what happens when we die. The life you feel inside, the thoughts you have, the awareness of who you are, all of that is what passes on to another world, one we aren’t meant to have contact with. We’re supposed to live here in our bodies until we go to that place.”

  He looked at her face for several long seconds. “Daddy’s okay?”

  “Yes.” A couple of tears slipped free and she kissed his cheek. “Daddy’s okay.”

  He put his arms around her neck as she hugged him, hugging her back.

  “Mommy?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m glad Brycen is going to catch the bad man.”

  She couldn’t hold back a sob but managed to control any that would follow. “Me, too, sweetie. That’s why I hired him.” She moved back and stood, taking his hand. “Now, how about you go back out there and apologize to Brycen for throwing something at him?”

  “Okay,” he said glumly, and walked out of the bedroom.

  Downstairs, Brycen had finished the Sloppy Joe mixture, stirring with the burner on low. He saw them and put the spoon down.

  “Everything all right?”

  Junior came to a stop before him, head bowed. “I’m sorry for throwing something at you.”

  “No need for an apology. Happens to us all. You hungry? I am.” He opened the oven and took out the french fries.

  Drury watched Junior stare up at Brycen in wonder. He hadn’t gotten upset. He understood where Junior’s anger came from.

  More than sexual awareness stirred her heartstrings. For a man who felt awkward around kids, he sure had a way with them. More than ever, she wanted to know the cause of that awkwardness.

  He scooped Joe mixture onto a bun and then put a handful of fries on a plate. Handing it to Junior, he said, “Fries are hot.”

  Junior took the plate and stared up at Brycen a second or two longer before going to the table.

  Drury fixed her own plate. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it.” He made his Joe and put fries on his plate. “This is the most french fries I’ve had since I was about ten.”

  He made light of what had happened. But Junior’s breakdown made her realize what her quest to avenge Noah had cost her son. She’d missed important signs. She’d seen him withdraw but attributed it to the normal grieving process. What she hadn’t seen had her thinking about things Brycen had said. While she would always disagree that people were meant to love more than one person in a lifetime, he did touch on a significant point. People did marry for the wrong reason, and she hated to think she was one of those people.

  Ever since she met Brycen, the feeling had begun to bubble up from way down deep. Her attraction to him had triggered it. Being married to Noah, she’d thought she’d found true love. How could that be, when just a look at Brycen gave her more intense sensation than she’d ever felt with Noah?

  She was falling for Brycen.

  Did that mean she avenged Noah out of obligation and justice? Maybe not entirely. She’d lost her family unit when Noah was taken from her, and she had loved Noah. But now she had to admit what she’d thought was true love had only been a close match.

  “You okay?” Brycen asked in her long silence.

  She shook off her thoughts and picked up her plate. “Yeah.”

  *

  After Junior’s tentative apology last night, Brycen sensed the boy still wasn’t sure about him. This morning, he kept watching him. He didn’t talk much, only when he had to. Brycen could see Drury’s concern. She’d been melancholy ever since, as though the talk she had with Junior had shaken loose some residual regrets. Did she fault herself for Junior’s lingering grief? Or did she worry the mutual attracti
on she had with Brycen had done and would continue to do damage to her son’s progress?

  When they parked in front of the house, Junior got out and ran to the door. Brycen followed Drury to the porch steps as Drury’s mother emerged, startled as Junior raced past her, on his way to toys he must only play with when he came here. A slender woman in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, with graying dark hair and blue eyes resembling Drury’s, she examined him with unabridged interest before hugging her daughter.

  “Hi, Mom,” Drury said.

  “Is this the detective?”

  “Yes. Mom, Brycen.” Her dad appeared out onto the porch, tall and also in good shape, his native Alaskan heritage showed in his wide cheekbones, graying dark hair and dark eyes. He also wore jeans and a T-shirt.

  “Handsome,” her mother said.

  “Mom,” Drury complained, looking at Brycen with a silent apology.

  He grinned. “Hello...”

  “Robert and Madeline Burke,” Robert said, leaning over from the top step to shake Brycen’s hand. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

  Madeline smiled with glances from him to her daughter.

  “We’ve got to run.” Drury hooked her arm with Brycen’s to get him to go with her. “Thanks for watching Junior.”

  “Anytime,” Madeline called after them. “Looking forward to seeing you again, Brycen.”

  He looked back with a wave.

  “They seemed to want to talk more,” he said at the SUV, opening the door for her.

  “My mother gets ideas in her head.”

  “Like the two of us together?”

  “Yes,” she said absently, discounting what she obviously considered an issue. “Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t be sorry.” He grinned as she paused to get in. Then he winked and shut the door. As he went around to the driver’s side, he wondered why he’d done that. He’d already told Drury no marriage and no kids. Why, then, did Drury’s mother fancying them as a couple appeal to him?

  *

  No one had followed them to the airport. Brycen had made sure of that. He’d tried to talk Drury out of going on her scheduled early-afternoon trip. Couldn’t she wait until after he closed her husband’s case? No. She needed the money. He couldn’t argue with that.

  The couple Drury had to fly had just gotten married. They’d fly them to a remote area north of Fairbanks.

  Carrying two cups of lidded coffee, he climbed into the belly of the plane, moving between the front of one passenger seat and the back of another. Drury stood from loading a small refrigerator with cheese and fruit and a bottle of champagne. Seeing her bent over like that made him falter. He stopped.

  She smiled, revealing her own awkwardness. “Newlyweds. Just your thing.”

  He moved toward her. “Funny.”

  She looked down his body, an unconscious action, and unbidden desire raced forth.

  Standing before her, he felt the air between them grow hotter, steamier. The way her eyes drooped in passion stirred the animal in him. Alone as they were in the plane, nothing prevented him from reaching out and pulling her to him. He didn’t think, only acted. Bringing his head down, he did what he’d wanted to do for a while now. He kissed her.

  He didn’t understand his need. He held her and touched her carefully, reverently, gently. Sensations floated through him, making him crave more and more and never stop.

  A woman giggling along with masculine laughter came to an abrupt halt at the open plane doors.

  Brycen lifted his head, looking into Drury’s bewildered eyes a moment before letting her go and turning. A couple stood there, watching them in silent apology for the interruption. The woman wore a white hat over long, fine blond hair and a heavy parka with gloves and calf-high boots. The man had his arm around her, also in winter gear but not wearing a hat over his darker blond hair. The ground crew loaded their luggage.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Canterbury?” Drury said.

  “Yes...sorry...we’re a little early,” the woman said.

  A ground crew member peeked his head in the doorway. “All set.” He slapped the side of the plane.

  “Thank you,” Drury said, then turned to the couple. “We’ll get an early start.” With an uneasy glance at Brycen, she headed for the cockpit, partially open to the rest of the aircraft.

  Brycen watched the couple take two of the four seats, the man letting his new wife have the window. The way he regarded her struck Brycen in a way he had never experienced before. He’d seen lots of couples together, but he never noticed tender exchanges. He always dismissed them as foolish disillusionment, ignorant bliss. But now he saw love. Genuine love. The woman looked at her new husband the same way he looked at her as they’d taken their seats. If Brycen could see that in this couple, maybe love wasn’t so rare after all.

  Disturbed by that unwanted revelation, he joined Drury in the cockpit. He sat down in the copilot chair.

  “Does it bother you whenever you see couples like that?” she asked without looking at him.

  “No.”

  “You looked bothered.”

  “It’s not every day you see a couple like that.” He sure hoped she’d stop talking.

  “No, but it’s a lot more often than you think.” As the engine revved to readiness, she turned to him.

  “I’ve never noticed it before.”

  “Before now?” Instead of cornering him and challenging his beliefs, she seemed to honestly want to know.

  “No.”

  She contemplated him for a while. “Maybe that’s been your problem all along. You turned a blind eye.”

  Even though he sensed her thinking the same as him, he was glad she didn’t put the thought into words. Kissing her had opened his eyes. Wanting her made him see things he otherwise wouldn’t have. True love.

  He shut down any further analysis. Just because he’d noticed the young couple in love didn’t mean he felt the same for Drury.

  *

  Drury landed on the dirt landing strip where a car waited to take the couple to their remote and romantic getaway. Mr. Canterbury was the son of a wealthy hotelier and a recent grad from Harvard. His new wife was a book editor. She’d learned that from their reservation information and talk from the ground crew. But Brycen’s notice of the couple had her most preoccupied. She resisted the urge to believe he’d change his thinking. Seeing the couple’s love had penetrated his stubbornness, but would he let down his guard?

  She didn’t think so.

  Nor did she feel ready to let go of her husband. Well...she didn’t think she was ready. She chose not to be ready. She needed to solve his murder first.

  With the couple deboarded and on their way to their destination, the ground crew—which was minimal in these parts—prepared them for their return. They had about an hour.

  She left the plane with Brycen and headed for the single building. The wind blew at a pretty good clip, biting through her outer layers and chilling her. “I’m going to get another cup of coffee.”

  “I’ll meet you in the terminal. I’ve drunk too much coffee.”

  Inside the building, he headed for the bathroom and she went to the only kiosk selling items travelers might need. Food. Snacks. Drinks. Books. Not much in the way of quantity but an impressive variety for somewhere this remote.

  She paid for a coffee and turned to head back to the plane.

  A man fell into step beside her. “Drury Decoteau?”

  Startled, she nearly dropped her coffee and took a few steps back from the tall dark-haired man with glowing blue eyes. Fit and well built, he had a menacing air about him despite his good looks.

  “Who are you?” She glanced around for Brycen and didn’t see him.

  The stranger held up his hands. “I didn’t come here to hurt you.”

  “Who are you?” she repeated.

  He lowered his hands. “I came here to warn you.”

  “I’ve had plenty of those.” She started walking for the exit. There weren’t many people
here but enough to make it difficult for him to try anything.

  He walked with her. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into. Send that cop home and forget about your husband’s murder. You can’t do this without a lot more help.”

  Do what? She started to push through the door, but the man stopped her with his hand on her arm.

  “If you want to live, forget about investigating his murder, Mrs. Decoteau. Leave it to the police. I’m sorry for your loss, but I’d sure hate to see something happen to you if you keep digging where you shouldn’t.”

  “I’ll ask you again, mister. Who are you?”

  He let go of her arm and stepped back. “Let’s just say, I know the people you’re crossing, and they aren’t the kind who give second chances. Back off and you’ll be all right.”

  He didn’t talk like a man out to kill her, or use violence to stop her.

  “Why are you warning me?”

  He hesitated and glanced around, probably searching for Brycen. “I met your husband. He was a good man. I don’t like it that he was killed.”

  “If you know something, you should talk to Brycen. The police.”

  “I wish I could, ma’am. Unfortunately I made my bed long ago. I’m stuck in dirty sheets.” He began to back away.

  “Wait. Please. You can help us.”

  He shook his head. “Back off, Mrs. Decoteau. Stop investigating your husband’s murder, at least until you can get a bigger team, like the FBI.” He turned and walked away.

  The FBI? What did the man know? She would have tried to get him to tell her, but knew he would not.

  “I can’t,” she said to his back.

  The man saw Brycen coming out of the restroom and hurried in the opposite direction.

  Drury pointed, jabbing the air. “That man!”

  Brycen looked in that direction, but the man had vanished.

  She took Brycen’s hand and tugged him that way. “He just stopped me and warned me. After I got coffee. He must have been waiting for me. Except he didn’t seem threatening. I mean he warned me to stop investigating Noah’s murder, but it was more to protect me. He said he met Noah, but he wouldn’t say how or where.”