Grave Secrets (A Tangled Web Book 1)

by Haven Rose

  “He has no clue I changed it to say what we wanted, and the sheriff doesn’t realize I signed his name. Things were crazy when it happened, and I was able to convince him he already did it. He trusts me. You’d think, as sheriff, he wouldn’t be so trusting, but it works in our favor. Plus, I make sure the real report is in the file in his office, just to be safe. But, whenever someone asks for it, since I took over the case when Silas retired, I give them our version.”

  “And what if they ask when you’re not there?”

  “I have someone I trust that handles it.”

  “How do you know they won’t rat you out?

  “Let’s just say, I gave her an offer she couldn’t refuse.”

  And that’s it?”

  “Yes. That’s all I need. Some people will do anything to ensure their spawn are protected, and, when all else fails, threats works nicely.”

  “It did quite well a few years ago when that lady’s husband started asking questions.”

  “A few anonymous phone calls threatening his precious daughter and he shut up. Those two will do anything for each other. It’s sickening. Our dad didn’t give a shit about us and we turned out just fine.”

  “Not that he lived long enough to see it.”

  Laughs. “He got what was coming to him.”

  “Hell yeah, he did, and then some. He just didn’t expect it to come from us,” The voice on the other end says while chuckling. After getting himself under control again, he continues by saying, “So, what is she doing anyway?”

  “Well, that program I had my helper install on her laptop did exactly what it was supposed to.”

  “Which is?”

  “It monitors everything she does, including recognizing certain keywords, and gives me an analysis of her activity. It’s ingenious. I received an alert recently, letting me know she was looking for articles about her mom’s accident. She also tried searching for the police report, but of course that wasn’t on there.”

  “This isn’t good, brother. Keep an eye on her. You know what you must do if it comes down to it, but until then, have fun with it. Scare the shit out of her.”

  “Oh, I plan to. I’ve already got a few ideas in mind. Hey, hold on,” I tell him as I hear someone shout my name. A few minutes later I pick up the receiver again, letting him know, “I have to go. I’m being sent on a call. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Keep me updated. Maybe I’ll schedule some days off soon and come visit. It’s been a while.”

  “Sounds good. Just let me know when,” and with that, we hang up and continue our day, both acting as if we didn’t just calmly discuss two previous murders and the possibility of another.

  Chapter Eight

  Ryan

  Two days later…

  This is my last three days, and one of those is almost over. Honestly, I’m getting paid to do pretty much nothing. I’ve already finished off my paperwork and transferred all my open cases, signed off on my final forms from human resources and given them my new address, cleaned out my desk, and the only thing left to do is turn in my badge and gun. Oh, and my going away party on Friday. I know the guys are hoping I change my mind about hitting a bar for drinks after work, but I won’t.

  My shift is over at noon, the party being an hour before that, and then I’m going to find my new furry companion, the dog I’ve wanted for years. Then, the next morning, I’m loading us up, along with any remaining boxes, stopping at my parents for breakfast and see you soons, and then we’re off to our new home. I can’t wait. I’m a little sad I won’t be as close to my parents as I’ve always lived within a relatively short distance of them, but I know this is the right step for me. I can just feel it. Plus, the factor that makes everything worth it, my precious jewel is in Colebrook, which means that’s where I want, no, need, to be.

  I still haven’t told my parents about her, wanting to hold the idea of her to myself a little longer. I know once I do, my mom will go full on “I have a daughter now” mode. I have never doubted their love for me, nor felt they were in any way disappointed they had a son, but I know my mom had always hoped to have a little girl too, someone to do all the girly things with. I pray the two of them will get along, knowing it’s a possibility they won’t, but, I also feel in my heart, that they’ll be very close. How could the two most important women in my life not be? I’ve waited all this time for my one, so to then have her and my mom not get along would be unfair. Yes, I know life in and of itself can be at times, I’m a cop, of course I know this, but I don’t think that will be the case for us. At least, that’s my hope.

  Unbeknownst to me, I’d been lost in my thoughts for longer than I realized, snapping back to reality when I felt Deacon’s hand on my arm.

  “Ryan, man, I’ve been trying to get your attention for five minutes. You spaced out. Did you finally figure out how to sleep with your eyes open?”

  “Well, if anyone can make me try, it would be you,” I say with a laugh.

  “Haha, jackass. Seriously, man. You okay?”

  “Of course, just thinking about everything I still need to do. You’re still coming for a visit, right?”

  “Yeah, I’ve already requested the time off, so if nothing changes, I’ll be there within the month for a week. I’m looking forward to it. Honestly, I’m jealous. I wish I was moving too. I need a change. With mom moving to her sister’s in Ohio, I’ve got nothing keeping me here anymore.”

  “Have you talked to her since she moved? Is she doing okay?”

  “My aunt flew here to help Mom pack her things and they were making the drive down together. I loaded the car that morning and asked Mom to call me when they got to Steubenville. She called the next day as they decided to make the eight-hour drive in two days, and I haven’t talked to her since.”

  “That was what, two months ago?”

  “Yeah, and honestly, I think we’re both relieved to have the distance between us. I know she is, that way she can drop the façade, what little she uses where I’m concerned. Does she love me? Yes, but it’s limited. I know this, and don’t fault her for it, though it took me years to accept, and I’ve made my peace with it, sort of. She did the best she could, I just always wished for more.”

  “Maybe with the space between you two, your relationship will get better. She won’t rely on you for so much, while at the same time…”

  “You can say it, Ryan. We both know it’s true. While at the same time resenting me. Maybe. All I know is, I won’t expect anything to change, so if it does, it’ll be a bonus.”

  “I wish things were different for you, Deacon.”

  “It’s all I ever knew, so I didn’t know it could be, until I met your parents.”

  “You know they love you too, right? You’re basically their son, they even refer to you as their youngest. After I leave, if you don’t continue to visit or call them, they’re going to worry about you. They’ll think they did something wrong, and you’ll make them feel bad.”

  “Guilt, Ryan, really? You’re going that route?”

  “If it works, hell yes, I’ll use it. Deacon, you’re my best friend, and I know how you think. You don’t see yourself as we do, which means you wrongly believe the worst about yourself, and because of that, you’ll continue to seclude yourself from those that love you. I’m giving you fair warning, my parents, no, our parents, won’t let you get away with it.”

  “Thanks. I needed to hear that.”

  “I know you did, which is why I said it. Don’t shut them out. Please. And, if you ever decide to move to Colebrook with me, I hope you know I will always welcome you and have a place for you to stay.”

  Knowing Deacon was getting choked up, his family never being one to show affection in any way, preferring fists and verbal insults, I let the subject drop, changing it after he was quiet for a moment. Deacon rarely showed any emotion, though I have seen a glimpse a time or two from him. I’ve heard the others refer to him as a Vulcan, and though it could be taken as an insult, they d
idn’t mean it as such. In fact, they sounded a little envious, wondering how he could compartmentalize his emotions, because with the job we do, in just one day we could encounter a variety of them, and it gets overwhelming. You can’t help but feel for those injured or being told their loved one isn’t coming home, nor can you always contain the anger a criminal brings out in you due to their evilness. You never cross that line though, regardless of whether you feel someone’s actions are worthy of it. That isn’t our job. Ours is to gather the evidence, ensuring we have proof they’re guilty of their crime, or crimes, so a conviction will be given.

  “I’m getting my dog Friday. Were you still coming over after work?”

  “Yeah, I’m planning on it, as long as we don’t catch a case. Do you know where you’re going or which dog you’re getting?”

  “To answer the first question, I have an appointment with one of the local rescue groups, and if, for some reason, the dog meant to be mine isn’t there, I’ll work my way through the list. That actually covered the second as well.”

  “Meant to be yours? Aren’t you just going and choosing a dog?”

  “No, that’s not how it works. He or she will choose me.”

  I know Deacon doesn’t get it because he goes quiet again. It’s his response to things he doesn’t understand or isn’t comfortable with. I know it stems from his childhood, when being quiet literally meant surviving, and he hasn’t been able to break the habit. I honestly don’t know if he ever will. But I hope he does.

  Chapter Nine

  Ruby

  Two days later…

  The past few days, I’ve felt like I was in a Lifetime movie. You know the ones. Girl goes on skipping through life, maybe it’s been smooth sailing, maybe it hasn’t, but at this moment, things are going well. Then cue the eerie music letting us know something is about to change. Suddenly, the girl is more cautious than before, but she can’t explain why. She gets shivers down her spine, yet the weather is quite pleasant, and she doesn’t feel cold, so what else could it be. She begins finding things out of place, but brushes it off, trying to convince herself she left an item somewhere she never would before on purpose, or she must’ve forgotten to lock the door before heading out to run errands. See, you know exactly what I’m talking about. I’ve become that girl, and I don’t know why.

  Admittedly, after I talked to Bobby I was on edge. That’s completely understandable considering we may have unearthed a conspiracy in our small town. Yes, it is hard to process, and again it sounds like one of those movies, just a different plot, but this is real life, my real life, and I don’t know what to do next.

  The day after we made our discovery is when that creepy feeling started. Yes, they were small things, but add them all up, and there is a bigger picture. It started innocently enough, I can see that now. It was Friday, the weekend of Memorial Day, and Dad wasn’t feeling well, so he asked the night before if I could work his opening shift.

  I was a few minutes later than usual walking out the door because I couldn’t find my cell phone. I still didn’t find it, but I needed to go. However, leaving wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped because I had a flat tire. While I can change it on my own, my dad taught me how before I started driving, I didn’t have the time. I ran back in the house, grabbed dad’s keys and scribbled a quick note letting him know what happened, then I left.

  Neither were that unusual, but then I realized something was on the floor of the passenger side. After reaching a stop sign, I leaned down and grabbed the item, shocked to discover it was my cell phone. I have no idea how it got in my dad’s truck. This is the first time I’ve driven it in weeks, and dad has his own, plus, he’d be the first to admit he has no clue how to use a smartphone. It wasn’t but a few years ago I finally got him to stop taping handwritten numbers to the back of his. In his world, change isn’t always good, and on some things, I agree. But, technology isn’t one of them. I am addicted to gadgets. You remember how many Kindles I have, right?

  Thankfully, the rest of the day went fine, but it got weird again at the grocery store. I had stopped to grab a few things for dinner that night, and I wanted to make my dad some soup, hoping it would make him feel better. I know some was due to the fact the anniversary of my mom’s death had recently passed, and with all I’d uncovered, it was on my mind more than ever.

  As I was wheeling my cart around, I felt like someone was watching me. That’s where the shivers came in. I blew it off, figuring my imagination was working overtime because of the thoughts racing through my mind recently. I went to pay for my groceries, but the card was declined. Now I know I have money in there. I am not a big spender, though I do have a weakness for books. While I am aware of how easily those purchases can add up, especially in my case, I still know there’s money. I made a mental note to contact the bank when I got in the truck and just paid cash. Thankfully, she’s known me my entire life, and didn’t comment on it, but instead tried to reassure me that the machine had been acting up.

  After loading the groceries in the extended cab, I got in and started the truck. I sat there for a few minutes, wondering if I should’ve just stayed in bed all day. Or perhaps I could’ve avoided adulting all day and just built a blanket fort and camped out with Boots and my Kindle. I think we’d all do it if we could get away with it.

  Resigning myself to having to act my age, I grabbed my cell and called the bank. They assured me there was money in my account, giving me the exact balance, and said they have no idea why it was declined. They said the same thing the cashier had, maybe the machine just glitched when I was using it. I thanked them, then headed to the gas station, wanting to refill dad’s tank as I noticed he was low on fuel. My card worked perfectly there, so maybe it truly was just an anomaly.

  Before going home though, I knew I needed to make one last stop, and if I didn’t do it now, I would keep putting it off. I took a few deep breaths once I reached the parking lot and gathered my courage before leaving the truck and going inside the sheriff’s department.

  Bobby was convinced something was off about the police report for my mom’s accident, so I decided to ask for a copy of it. I wanted to compare the two. Bobby’s dad, James, wasn’t in, but the secretary was. Mrs. Wilson was a sweet lady. Her son, John, and I were around the same age, though we’d only been acquaintances in school. Today though, she didn’t seem as cheerful as usual. I sensed a sadness about her, and I wanted to help, so I asked if she was okay. She assured me she was, calling me dear like she does everyone, but I knew she wasn’t. However, I changed the subject, knowing she obviously didn’t want to talk about it.

  When I told Mrs. Wilson why I was there, her expression changed, becoming one I didn’t know how to interpret. It looked like fear. For me or her, I don’t know, but it crossed her face all the same. She said it would just be a moment as the case was older and wasn’t readily available, then she grabbed the phone off her desk, her hand visibly shaking, and turned her back toward me, talking into the receiver. Those were the actions of someone that needed privacy, yet I assumed the call was about my request. My theory was proven when she hung up the phone and without a word to me, returned to the typing she was doing when I walked in.

  I turn when I hear someone call my name, and realize it’s Dan Jones, a deputy I know of, but haven’t had much interaction with. He says hi, then we make small talk for a few minutes as we walk down the hall. As we enter what’s obviously used as an interrogation, err interview, room, I begin feeling as if I’ve done something wrong.

  Dan verifies what Mrs. Wilson told him, that I’m requesting a copy of my mom’s police report. I tell him that’s correct, and he asks why I want it. To me, not only is that a little personal, but it also seems like a rhetorical question. I’d think there would be only one answer, and though I don’t think “because” would do it, regardless of how much I yearn to say it, I temper the urge and tell him the anniversary of her death had just passed, and I wanted to look it over, for closure. Of course, I wasn’
t being entirely truthful, but I didn’t feel the need to be. My reasons for wanting it were my own, and as the reports should be public record, I was unsure why this seemed to be such an issue.

  I felt like he was trying to talk me out of seeing it, I just didn’t know why. After a few minutes in which I refused to budge on having a copy given to me, he stood, albeit reluctantly, and walked out the door, stopping long enough to say he’d be right back.

  Fifteen minutes later, I’m beginning to think he needs to replace his watch battery. There’s no reason it should be taking this long, but maybe he was distracted by work, so I wait a few more minutes. Thankfully, it wasn’t that warm out and I didn’t have any perishable groceries in the truck.

  I decide to step out into the hall and see Dan huddled in the corner, speaking softly, but urgently, into his cell phone. Something isn’t right here, and I’m beginning to think it all centers around my mom’s death.

  **Ryan**

  Later that day…

  I am officially unemployed, well, sort of. I already have a new position, but it won’t be finalized until my first day of work, which happens to be Memorial Day. As a rookie, even though I have years of experience, I’m still considered the newbie at Colebrook, which means working the holiday. Truthfully though, I’m okay with that. I’ll have time to explore my new hometown over the weekend, which means opportunities to bump into my jewel. I’ve thought about her since that day, wondering her name, what color her eyes are, what she likes and dislikes, how she feels about kids, etc. Never once did I question whether she was single. If she had a boyfriend, it wouldn’t be for long. I just knew he couldn’t make her as happy as I could, nor love her as deeply as I already do. I know how weird I sound, not to mention I have never acted this way before. My mom has always said I have a quiet soul. I prefer to listen, absorbing as much as I can before stating my thoughts or opinions. Even as a detective, I would remain silent, letting Deacon take the lead, but my personality always seemed to draw people in, and before I knew it, the suspect or victim was talking to me, sharing things they normally wouldn’t with a stranger. I also think a lot of that stemmed from the fact that Deacon could appear intimidating, so my presence became the calm one. Whatever the reason, it worked for us as partners. I knew I’d probably never have that with a co-worker again, and I would miss it.