Quinn picked up. “Hello?”
“Sorry I missed you. I was helping with my dad.”
“It’s fine. I just wanted you to know we think we might have found Carter James.”
Steven straightened. “Where? Is he alive?”
“He is. Barely. I asked a buddy of mine with a search and rescue K-9 to drive the route Carter would have taken to get to Greenville. Told him to let Scout see if he could find anything. It was slow going, but he found him about three hours into the search. Looks like Carter was carjacked at a gas station on I-26. That’s just speculation, though, and I hate speculation.”
“Sounds like an educated guess to me.” He heard the door shut and recognized his mother’s footsteps as she came from the garage, through the mudroom, and into the kitchen. She kissed him on the cheek, then walked into the den to check on his father.
“Educated guess. Okay, we’ll go with that,” Quinn said. “Anyway, Carter was dumped in a field behind the gas station. He’s got some serious head trauma and a bullet wound in his back. Poor guy wouldn’t have made it much longer.”
Steven grimaced. “Ouch.”
“Yeah.”
“He’s at the hospital, I take it?”
“He’s there and in surgery. I’m supposed to get a call when he’s conscious and can talk. Once they dig out the bullet, ballistics will compare it with the one the ME dug out of our John Doe from the trunk. I’m hazarding another educated guess that the two bullets match.”
“I’d say that’s a safe guess. I’m just praying the guy makes it. If he does, maybe he can tell us who did this. Did you let his wife know?”
“Yes. She’s on her way here as we speak.”
“Good.”
Steven ran a hand through his hair. “So who was the guy in his trunk? Any progress on IDing him?”
“Nothing yet. And it’s not like we can post pictures of him on the news to see if anyone knows him.”
“Yeah.”
Steven’s phone beeped. He glanced at the screen. A text from Haley. “Hey, I’ve got to go.”
“Later.” Quinn hung up and Steven pulled up the text.
Haley
Meet me at Starbucks on Two Notch in 30? That’s the good part of Two Notch just in case you’ve forgotten there is such a thing.
Then she’d sent him the address to map. He typed back.
I’ll be there.
Steven went to find his mother. His heart nearly stopped when he located her in the guest room sitting on the floor. “Mom? What are you doing?”
She looked up, tears in her eyes and on her cheeks. She gave him a wobbly smile. “Remembering.”
He swallowed. “Why? When it hurts so much?”
She bit her lip and looked back down at the photo album. An 8 × 10 of a twelve-year-old Michael grinned up from the page. She used a finger to trace his face. “Because he existed. He had dreams and was so full of life.” She gave a tiny shrug. “He deserves to be remembered.”
Steven closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to remember,” he whispered hoarsely.
“I know. And that’s okay. That’s your way of dealing with it.”
“It’s been twelve years, Mom. It shouldn’t still hurt this bad.” He slid down to sit on the floor beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. He felt the prick of tears behind his eyes but refused to let them surface. “You know, I have a friend. Well, a coworker. No . . . a friend.” He dropped his head with a low half laugh, half groan, then lifted his eyes to meet hers again. “Well, whatever she is, she just discovered that she was presumed dead twenty-five years ago. A few months ago, her grandfather found out she was alive and well. He just flew in from Ireland to see her.”
“Oh, how wonderful. The joy he must be feeling. What a reunion.”
“I used to dream about that,” Steven whispered.
“What?”
“About waking up to see Michael at the foot of my bed with that stupid gorilla mask on. I used to beg God to bring him back to us. Because he’s God, right? He could do that. He could undo everything that had been done without even blinking an eye, right?”
His mother didn’t answer, but he felt the shudder ripple through her.
“Anyway,” he said. “When I saw Haley’s grandfather hug her for the first time in twenty-five years, you know what I felt?”
She sniffed and swiped a tear. “You were jealous.”
“Exactly. I so wanted that to be Michael and me.”
His mother shut the album. “The man who hit him is up for parole.”
Everything in Steven froze. A minute passed before he could get his throat to work. “He didn’t hit him, he killed him.” She didn’t respond. “When is the hearing?” he asked.
“A week from tomorrow.”
He gaped. “Why didn’t I know about this?”
“I don’t know. I got the notice a while ago. They might have sent the information to your Chicago address.”
“Probably. So why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to bring it up yet. I’ve been . . . praying about it. A lot.”
He snorted. “Nothing to pray about. I’ll be there. He’s not getting out.”
“Steven—” She stopped, then patted his hand. “Come on. Help me up.” He did and she squeezed his fingers. “I love you, Steven.”
“I know you do, Mom. I love you too.” He kissed her cheek, then went to find his keys. Meeting Haley was suddenly the one thing he wanted to do more than anything.
[18]
TUESDAY, 3:30 PM
Haley arrived early at the coffee shop, got her drink, and chose a seat near the door so she could watch for Steven—and anything else she might need to see. Keeping her back against the wall kept her stress level manageable. Christina stayed in her vehicle watching the area. Which left Haley free to think about her actions.
What had possessed her to text Steven? Why was she so drawn to him? What was it about him that caused her to visualize things like dates and romance?
She had to be losing her mind. That was all it was. Having been shot at three times in the last few days had simply caused her to have some sort of brain malfunction, because she’d sworn off men when she’d left G2 and hadn’t regretted it one bit since.
Until now.
She pressed a hand to her side where the stitches pulled when she moved carelessly. That wound was minor compared to the broken heart she’d suffered when Dylan had betrayed her. He’d taken her love and trust and crushed it like a soda can.
The door opened and she eyed the person who entered. The baseball cap hid his features while he looked from side to side, as though casing the store. Haley stiffened, her hand going to her weapon while she watched him. She scanned his clothing, looking for a gun, a knife, anything.
A young twentysomething blonde entered behind him and wrapped her arm around his waist. He leaned over and gave her a light kiss on the lips.
Haley blew out a breath and released her gun. “You’ve really got to chill,” she muttered.
And she would. Eventually.
The door opened again and Steven stepped inside. He spotted her immediately. She lifted her cup and indicated he should go ahead and order. He nodded. Her phone buzzed. She looked down to find a text from a strange number.
The man in the trunk was killed because of you. His name is Gerald Forsythe. Stop your search into the past or more will die. Their blood is on your hands. Enjoy your coffee.
Haley didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t breathe. She simply stared at the text. Was he watching the store now? Or had he waited until he’d driven away before sending the message?
She texted Christina.
Do you see anyone sitting in their car in the parking lot besides you?
Christina
No. Why?
Forwarding you a text I just got
She sent it. Then typed a text to the anonymous number.
I’m not drinking coffee.<
br />
Steven joined her. “Everything okay?”
She shook her hot chocolate and took a swig. “My stalker has returned.” She showed him the text.
He pulled his phone from the clip on his belt. “I’ll get someone out here.”
She reached out and covered his hand with hers. “Don’t bother. He’s not here anymore. He’s just letting me know he’s watching.” She drew in a breath. “You can run the number and see what it turns up, but I’m guessing it’s a throwaway phone.”
“Probably, but we’ll try it.” She gave him the number and he sent it into cyberspace to someone he worked with.
“Also, can you run the name Gerald Forsythe? I could, but I would need to go into the office. I don’t have the software on my phone.”
“Sure. We can go out to my car and do it.”
“Great.” They rose and walked out of the coffee shop. Haley kept her attention focused on the area around them, and she knew Christina was watching as well. Steven unlocked his car, then started it, letting the air conditioning wash over them. He pulled the laptop around to him and began his search. “Gerald Forsythe.”
“Right.”
“There’s a Gerald Forsythe who’s been reported missing out of Virginia. Says he last checked in with his wife the Saturday before we found the body in the trunk. Officer Gerald Forsythe.”
“He’s a cop?”
“A decorated one.”
“You have a picture of him?”
He turned the screen so she could see it and she studied the man. It was a professional photograph. He sat straight, eyes facing the camera and full lips slightly tilted upward. He looked like a man who could take care of himself. Only someone had killed him. Maybe. “We need to see if we can get a DNA comparison.”
“Wait a minute. Look at his left hand,” Steven said.
“Okay, what am I looking at?”
“Is that an actual ring on his fourth finger or a tattoo?”
She squinted and moved the screen closer. “I can’t tell. Let me call Francisco.”
“Oh yeah, the medical examiner. I met him my first day on the job. He’s quite a character, isn’t he?”
“To say the least.”
“He was doing sit-ups when Quinn and I walked in.”
“He’s moved on from push-ups since he broke the world record.”
“Right.”
Haley had Francisco on speed dial. She listened to the line ring and got his voice mail. She hung up and dialed his cell phone.
“I’ve got a spleen in my left hand and a scalpel in my right. You’re on speakerphone.”
Relief flowed at hearing him answer. “Thanks for picking up, it’s kind of urgent.”
“It’s always urgent with you people.”
“I’ll tell your boss you deserve another raise.”
“If it’s as much as last time, I’m hanging up.”
“No, no, don’t do that. Is one of your assistants with you?” Haley knew both, but didn’t know which one was working with him today.
“Of course. Nan is right here.”
“Ask Nan to go check the left hand of the John Doe that was brought in Sunday night. The guy from the trunk. Ask her if he’s got a tattoo around the ring finger that would wear a wedding band.”
“A tattoo?”
“Yes.”
“She doesn’t have to check. I remember. His hands were covered in blood when he arrived.”
“Well, he had them tucked under his cheek when his face was blown off.”
“That would do it. Anyway, once I got him cleaned up, I removed his personal effects, and yes, there’s a tattoo there. It’s a band and it just says ‘Forever’ on it.”
Haley sucked in a breath and met Steven’s gaze. “Okay, then your John Doe now has a name.”
“Really? What would that be?”
“Gerald Forsythe.”
“Will you be notifying his next of kin?”
“Someone will. Thanks, Francisco.”
“I’ll be looking for that raise.”
She let out a low laugh and hung up. Then turned serious while sadness gripped her. “It’s him,” she told Steven.
“I gathered.” He tapped a few times on his screen.
“Are you letting Quinn know?”
“Yes.” He finished and tucked the phone back into its clip on his belt.
“So,” she said. “Gerald Forsythe. Who is he—other than a decorated cop? Why was he in South Carolina and why did someone kill him and say I’m the reason he’s dead? What’s his connection to me?”
“All good questions.”
“I hate questions. I want answers.” Her phone vibrated and she glanced at the message and gasped. “Maddy said it’s my grandfather. An ambulance is taking him to the hospital.”
“What happened?”
“She didn’t give me details, but I’ve got to head over there.”
“Of course.”
His phone buzzed and he pulled it off the clip again. “Uh-oh.”
“What?” She paused half in, half out of the car.
“Richie gave his tail the slip.”
Steven fell in behind Christina and Haley as they made their way to the hospital. He’d offered to drive her, but she’d already been climbing into her Hummer. His phone rang and he pressed the button that would allow the Bluetooth to activate his speakers. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Quinn.”
“What’s up?”
“I’ve been working on Haley’s case.”
“Join the club.”
A sigh reached him. “You’re not going to believe this, but I don’t think Richie’s behind everything. He could have hired the people to do the shooting, but he’s also got an air-tight alibi. He wasn’t at Haley’s house shooting up her bed, he was caught on video camera knocking over a convenience store. Needless to say, we have a warrant out for his arrest.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“Why would he knock over a convenience store? He’s got minions who do stuff like that.”
“Whatever the reason, he did it.”
“All right, then I guess we need to go in another direction.”
“Looks like. One other thing, Steven.”
“Yeah?”
“I . . . uh . . . did some background checking on Haley’s grandfather and Hugh McCort.”
Uh-oh. “And?”
“Her grandfather came back clean as a whistle. His friend did too. Sort of.”
“What do you mean ‘sort of’?” He made a left, then a right, staying on Haley’s bumper.
“McCort has used the same bank in Ireland for the past forty-some-odd years. His son banked there as well before his death. Three days before the attack on the castle, someone deposited the equivalent of twenty grand in that account. The son’s, not McCort’s. While I was investigating the elder McCort, I figured I would just check the whole family. I looked in the investigative report and there was no mention of investigating McCort’s son, who wasn’t even in the city at the time of the attack. They checked into the elder McCort, of course, but according to the report, he was cleared two days after the attack.”
Steven let out a low whistle as he pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. “How did you get that information so quickly?”
“I have a connection who has a connection.”
“So, McCort has a son?”
“Yes, Connor McCort. He was twenty-three years old when the attack happened and he died two days after.”
“What happened?”
“Suicide.”
“Oh. Whoa.”
“Yeah. Two days after that, McCort closed his son’s account and a large deposit was made into the senior McCort’s account.”
“How much?”
“Lots and lots of Irish pounds. The equivalent of twenty grand.”
“Wow. Okay, that’s a lot of money, especially twenty-five years ago. Can you trace where it was spent?”
; “No, and don’t have to anyway. It’s been sitting there since the day he deposited it.”
“You think McCort’s son had something to do with the attack after all? Then, out of remorse and guilt, killed himself?”
“It’s possible. I think Hugh McCort’s the only one who knows for sure.”
“Then we need to ask him.”
“You want to tell Haley or you want me to?” Quinn asked.
Haley parked in one of the law enforcement slots that provided the most protection for her to make her way into the building. Steven pulled behind her. He watched her check the mirrors. “I’ll tell her. She’ll want to be the one to talk to McCort. He’ll probably be here with Haley’s grandfather.”
“Good enough. I’m going back to it.”
“Later.” He hung up and climbed out of his car to join Christina, who was using binoculars to scan the area across the street.
After a moment, she nodded to Haley, and Haley slid out on the passenger side closest to the entrance. They made their way into the hospital and Haley paused just inside the entrance. “I want to check on my grandfather, then let’s look in on Micah.”
“I heard from Quinn on the way here. Got an update for you,” Steven said.
“I’m very worried about what Richie’s going to do next. I need to make sure Belinda understands the seriousness of his actions. And then there’s Duncan.”
“Yes. And then there’s Duncan.”
She went straight to the information desk with Christina hovering nearby. “I need to know the status of a patient who was brought in,” Haley said. “His name is Ian Burke.”
The woman turned to her computer. After a few clicks, she looked up. “They are running tests on him right now.”
“Okay. Thank you.”
She turned away and pressed her fingers to her eyes. “Want to check on Micah now?”
“Sure.”
On the elevator ride up to Micah’s floor, Steven told Haley and Christina about his conversation with Quinn, covering Richie’s alibi and warrant, then briefly touching on Hugh McCort and his son. Haley let him talk without interrupting, even as her expression got tighter and tighter. When they stepped off the elevator, she shook her head. “All right, we’ll deal with that little bit of information about Hugh shortly. Let’s take care of one thing at a time.”
Chasing Secrets Page 16