Her Best Friend's Keeper (Finley Creek Book 1)

by Calle J. Brookes

  He’d had the choice of early retirement after he’d taken a bullet during a case over a year ago. That hadn’t been an option at the time, and he’d kept going with the TSP.

  Who retired at thirty-six? Elliot didn’t know what he’d do with himself if he didn’t have law enforcement, didn’t have the Texas State Police. It had been everything he’d worked for since he was a kid. Ten years ago that want had shifted to being his best tool for finding the answers he needed.

  The call for this appointment couldn’t have come at a better time. First thing he had done was gather all the personnel files for everyone under his command. He had one hundred thirty-two officers, eighty-six detectives, fifty-six support staff, and twenty-four forensics technicians. It was the second largest post of the TSP in the state, a far cry from his former position with one of the smaller posts in Garrity.

  But he would run it as he had run his previous assignment. He prized integrity and efficiency amongst his staff. Held himself to the same high standard. Elliot would start by knowing the people he led. He needed to get out of his office and actually see the Finley Creek TSP in action.

  Elliot wasn’t one of those leaders who stayed hidden away; he’d always believed in hands-on, like his father had taught him a leader should be. This place would be no different, though he had a strong suspicion he’d be facing more politics and less police work than he ever had before.

  Elliot wasn’t made for politics, and he would be the first to admit it.

  He waved Officer Journey away and headed for the main elevators. He needed to poke around downstairs, see how his people operated when they weren’t expecting him.

  Every operation had a unique feel to it; it was far past time he found out what this post’s was.

  ***

  IT seemed well ran. Finley Creek had some of the best people in the organization—at least by reputation. Elliot put more faith in history than reputation. From the moment he’d accepted the appointment he’d quietly started pulling cases, going back forty years. The TSP had been in existence off and on since 1870 and had a tumultuous history—and not always a great reputation.

  Today it dealt with a variety of crimes and worked in conjunction with the Texas Highway Patrol, Rangers, and Attorney General’s office, just among others.

  Elliot wanted to know all of the cases that had crossed the doors of the Finley Creek Post, the second largest in the state.

  It was going to take a while, but he was determined to at least touch on as many cases as he could. His wasn’t a political position, he was there to run the Finley Creek TSP to the best of his ability. Not win favor for later positions in the future. That wasn’t his way.

  Elliot hated politics.

  This was the first real opportunity he had to get his hands on the Finley Creek TSP files from ten years ago. Which would most likely be in the computer forensic department’s archives, as most of what they had on his family’s murders was digital. A decade old digital, at that.

  Everything they had hinged on the video taken of the murders that day.

  Or so he had always been told.

  Elliot would speak with the head of the TSP’s computer forensic division as soon as he possibly could. Bennett Russell was a pioneer in the Computer Forensics field and had spent his entire career in his hometown of Finley Creek.

  He was one of the ones with the reputation of greatness that the TSP was known for.

  Elliot’s father had spoken highly of Benny’s computer skills when they’d worked together. He’d tried to get Elliot interested in computer technology when Elliot had been ten. But that wasn’t Elliot’s plan at all.

  For him, it had been Texas State Police from the beginning. He’d lived and breathed cop from the time he was old enough to understand what his father did for a living. Had childish fantasies of catching all the bad guys and making his father proud.

  Now was as good a time as any. Elliot headed toward the Computer Forensics department on the first floor.

  At one time, when Computer Forensics first became relevant and Benny was pushing hard to grow his division, the department had boasted three times as many people. Of course, technology had changed so much in the last several decades. Less people were needed to do the same jobs.

  Today, the Finley Creek TSP Computer Forensics department was still one of the best in the nation—but it had only sixteen people.

  Most likely Benny kept his best on day shift, which meant they’d be there now. If Elliot was inclined, he could pull one of them to find what he was looking for.

  It would be taking them away from whatever pressing cases there were, and there were always pressing cases. A ten-year-old cold case wouldn’t be one of them, no matter how much he wished he could focus the whole post on finding the bastards responsible for his family. He could wait. That didn’t mean he couldn’t take a look at the Computer Forensics department now, though.

  A glass entrance separated the lab from the reception area of the two-story annex. Elliot wasn’t so sure he liked how isolated the CF department was. He may need to move them out of the annex and into the main building, to be nearer the rest of the officers and detectives. The space downstairs was being wasted—there were too many empty offices and conference rooms in the computer forensics lab. Offices that could be used to house detectives.

  He’d picked up an entourage—exactly what he’d hoped to avoid—about half a dozen supervisors and support staff trailed after him, asking questions.

  He understood it; he was new and their boss. The unknown. And the TSP was their livelihoods. They wanted to make a good impression.

  Bennett Russell was in the small conference-slash-breakroom with two of his staff. They had half a dozen laptops, a tablet, iPhone, and three-ringed notebooks spread out between them. And a dozen glazed donuts and soda on the table.

  It looked like a study session, rather than a criminal forensics department. Informal.

  Interesting. Nothing at all like the sleek professionalism of the TSP departments in the five story main building he’d just left.

  Elliot nodded at Russell then took a closer look at the two techs seated next to him.

  Pretty. Very, very pretty. That was the first thing he noticed. Elliot was a healthy man, after all. These two would get noticed anywhere. But they were a hell of a lot younger than he was expecting.

  They stopped their conversation and they stared at him, then stood. Their shoulders touched and they looked at each other. Then at him. Back at each other.

  He fought a smile. Something about the two of them side-by-side amused him. He didn’t know what, but it did. Maybe the wide-eyed nerves? Was it because he was the Division Chief?

  “Elliot!” the blonde on the left said, drawing his attention immediately. Her cheeks flushed. “I...uh...mean...Sir...it’s good to see you again.”

  Elliot looked into big blue eyes behind purple-framed glasses. Eyes that looked familiar.

  CHAPTER FOUR.

  ***

  “ELLIOT. I mean…Chief Marshall…it’s…well, it’s good to see you again.” The woman’s cheeks went bright pink. Her pretty cheeks. Behind the thick glasses she was a very stunning woman, with long pale blonde hair and a soft mouth. He’d put her age at a good ten years younger than his own thirty-six.

  She reminded him of someone, and it took him a moment to put it together.

  “Gabby.” He didn’t hold out his hand toward her, a slight that he didn’t mean. He realized what he’d done when she pulled her hand back and wrapped her arms around her middle. He could almost see the nerves running through her.

  But hadn’t she always been that way? She had always been a bundle of nerves, hadn’t she?

  She hadn’t been quite as pretty ten years ago, though. Just an awkward and very geeky teenage girl—that was how he’d always remembered the girl who had been his sister’s best friend.

  Gabby Deckard or Duncan, or something like that, had been at his parents’ house almost every weekend, sid
e-by-side with his sister. They’d been almost inseparable. Until the night she’d watched his family die.

  He had been busy down in the Gulf building his early career with the TSP, and had only seen her about half a dozen times in the year before his parents’ and siblings’ deaths. She’d been a young girl, and he’d been a man in his mid-twenties. His return visits to Finley Creek had been consumed with catching up with his friends and making time with women his own age. They hadn’t included the teenage sister he had had so little in common with, or the brother two years older than Sara who he hadn’t known much about at all. It definitely hadn’t included their friends.

  Elliot would always regret not being close to Sara and Slade before their deaths. Always.

  “You really look…well.” She was backing away from him. Until she bumped into the table, sending a bottle of unopened soda rolling to the floor. Her redheaded friend nabbed it before it got too far. Elliot tried to put his finger on why she was so nervous of him.

  Was she frightened of him? Why?

  The words he’d said to the girl at his family’s funerals came rushing back. He hadn’t exactly been nice to an obviously grieving kid, had he? Gabby was definitely one of his regrets, too. Life was about regrets, wasn’t it? Maybe she was a regret he could somehow mend? “Gabby, it is nice to see you. I didn’t recognize you for a moment there.”

  He’d just found out that she’d witnessed the whole thing back then, and he’d been angry. He had lashed out in a moment of grief. At her and the federal agent who’d accompanied her to the funeral.

  He’d blamed the agent for the case not moving forward, and he’d blamed her for not being able to give the FBI or the TSP the information they needed.

  But he’d really been angry at himself. He’d hated himself—and his brother Chance—for them not being there that night.

  He was supposed to be home the night his family had been murdered. A last minute date with a woman he’d been chasing had had him changing his plans. He’d never forgotten how disappointed his mother had sounded when he’d called to tell her. That was the last conversation he’d ever had with his mother. Sara’s birthday. And his sister had wanted a dinner with the entire family and her best friend.

  Sara had been web chatting in the living room with her friend—with Gabby—when four armed men had broken into their home, dragged Slade and Elliot’s parents into the living room and killed all four of them.

  While her best friend watched.

  Gabby had dialed 9-1-1, but his parents had lived forty miles from the Finley Creek city limits. By the time help had arrived it was too late for his sister and parents, who had all died instantly. Slade had died two days later in the hospital. Elliot’s eighteen-year-old brother hadn’t wakened in those forty-eight hours. Elliot and Chance had had to make the difficult decision to have Slade taken off of life support when it became clear he probably would never recover.

  She was still staring at him, as were the rest of the half-dozen people surrounding them now, from the larger forensics division, not just computer. They were waiting for him, weren’t they? To acknowledge? To tell them what he wanted down there today. Elliot pulled his thoughts back together. Now wasn’t the time for the past, was it? “It’s nice to meet you all. I look forward to working with each of you. Gabby, would you like to escort me back to my office? We can catch up for a few minutes.”

  “Uh…now?” Her voice rose in a squeak that surprised him.

  He didn’t miss the crowd’s surprise, either. The speculation in their eyes. What were they thinking? He smiled slightly and addressed the room at large. “I knew Gabby as a child. She was a close friend of the family’s. Though it has been over ten years, hasn’t it?”

  “Yeah. At least. It’s good to see you again. I already said that, didn’t I?” She shot a confused look toward the redhead. The other woman nodded. Gabby sighed. “Sorry, I tend to repeat myself sometimes.”

  “Not a concern. Shall we?” He motioned to the elevator. Elliot didn’t miss the look of pleading she shot at her friend. Who shrugged.

  He almost smiled. These two were interesting, weren’t they?

  Did she think he was the big bad wolf going to gobble her up? He hadn’t gobbled up an innocent young woman like her in at least…ten years.

  That thought sobered him. It always came back to that night, didn’t it?

  That was the last time he’d focused on his own selfish needs rather than living up to his obligations first. If he’d been with his family he would have been armed. He would have been able to save at least some of his family that night. Of that he had no doubt.

  Gabby darted into the elevator in front of him. Once the steel doors slid shut, cutting them off from everyone else, he looked at the woman who’d once been a grieving young girl. Who had once been more a part of his family than he had.

  She still had the thicker glasses; this pair had dark purple plastic frames, and she still wore her hair in two loose braids. She was—and had always been—a mix of sheer geek and green hippie. But now her awkward teenage angles had smoothed out into some very feminine curves. Her eyes were just as blue as they had been back then. Beautiful. And staring at him with wariness and…fear. Why the fear?

  Because of what he’d said ten years ago?

  He’d been grieving. But he’d also been a total ass. To a kid who hadn’t deserved it. A kid who’d lost people she loved, too. His family had loved her, too. That had sat on his conscience for a very long time. Now wouldn’t be too soon to apologize, would it? In fact, it would probably be far past time, wouldn’t it? “Gabby, how long have you worked here?”

  “Almost five years. Here. In Computer Forensics. Before that I was with IT.” She still eyed him like he was a rabid dog. It was starting to irritate him. He wasn’t going to bite her. Although, he bet she tasted as sweet as she looked. “So…how long are you going to be chief here?”

  “I don’t have a clue. How have you been?” He stepped closer, testing to see just how she would respond. She didn’t disappoint—or surprise. Gabby backed up until she was flush against the rear of the elevator cart. She really was trying to get away from him. Why? “Seriously? Doing ok?”

  “I…I’m fine. Of course, I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Because she looked like a big-eyed squirrel caught in the talons of an owl at the moment? “I’m glad to hear it. I’ve wondered how you were over the last decade.” He’d wondered, regretted. He’d thought of just calling her and apologizing for his words back then. He just never had—what was the point in dredging up old wounds? For the both of them?

  “Fine. Just fine. And here for the last four. How have you been? Chance? I saw him about two years ago. And he calls occasionally. We had dinner once. About three years ago, I think.”

  That surprised him. His brother wasn’t often in Texas, especially this side of the state. They both had their demons; Chance’s involved their late brother, and Elliot doubted Chance would ever stop running from them. “Chance is doing…fine. We both are.”

  “Fine.” She tilted her head back and looked up at him. He studied her; her skin was flawless, except for three small freckles beneath her left eye. He bet she was as soft as she looked, too. Her lips were full and she was chewing on the bottom one as she eyed him.

  He made her nervous, didn’t he? Elliot was man enough to admit he liked that.

  In a different world, maybe he would have acted on that.

  “Fine.”

  CHAPTER FIVE.

  ***

  FINE. Yeah. That was the word she’d used. Him, too. Over and over again. And he was definitely fine. He looked like his brothers—all the Marshall boys had favored their father—but Elliot was definitely the hottest of the brothers. Now.

  Of course, she’d only known Slade when he was a teenaged boy. She’d never get the opportunity to see him as an adult.

  She’d missed him almost as much as she’d missed Sara those first few years after the murders. Slade had been
her first real kiss.

  Two weeks before he’d been killed he’d asked her to his senior prom. She still had the dress she’d picked out shoved in the back of her closet. Slade Marshall had been a boy—Elliot Marshall was a full grown man.

  His hair was sable brown with a touch of silver at the temples. His eyes were dark green. His face was all hard angles and planes; rough but manly.

  Just like his father’s had been.

  She missed the senior Elliot Marshall to this day. She hadn’t had a father figure until him. She’d met Sara when she was eleven years old. And without her own father in the picture—he’d joined the military and left Gabby and her mother high and dry three years earlier—she had developed a relationship with Sara’s father. He’d taken her to her first father-daughter lunch at the community church. He had been there for that first junior high dance. He’d been the closest thing to a father she’d had as a girl.

  It had taken her step-father a long time to earn that same spot.

  Her mother had married Arthur Kendall, the senior FBI agent who’d been assigned the Marshall family’s case. He had made a promise to Gabby the day after Sara’s funeral. Art had vowed to keep her and her mother safe from anyone who’d hurt them.

  And he’d kept that word.

  Eventually Gabby had come to love him and his daughter Elizabeth like the family Art and her mother had tried to make. Had made. She had three more siblings, thanks to them. Family.

  She’d had a real family.

  Eventually.

  Of course, it had taken a whole lot longer than that for her to feel reasonably safe. To not wake up terrified that the killers were in her bedroom, waiting to kill her with little thought, or hindrance. Along with everyone she had left to love.

  “So.”