“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“No. At least, I don’t think so. I don’t know. Look, I just need you to come over as soon as you can. It’s about Lydia.”
“John,” Liam said warningly. Apparently, his partner knew him better than he had thought. They had worked together every day for the past five years, and Liam had become an important part of his life outside the job too.
“Look, Liam, this is serious. I’m not imagining things nor am I hallucinating and talking to the dead. And no, I’m not having a nervous breakdown. I just need to talk to you as soon as possible.”
Liam sighed and John could see him running this hand through his hair. It was a nervous gesture the younger detective engaged in whenever he wasn’t certain he was making the right decision. “Fine. I’ll be there in an hour,” he said and the line went dead.
John sighed in satisfaction. It was a good thing they both had the day off. They had time to go over everything and come up with a plan. It would be much easier than having to do it at the precinct, with everyone listening in and thinking him crazy. He just hoped he’d be able to convince Liam.
Precisely an hour later, the doorbell rang. If there was one thing to be said about Liam, it was that the man was incredibly punctual unless something catastrophic had happened. In the five years since they’d worked together, Liam had only been late once. And that was because someone had put a bullet in him and left him to die. He got a pass on that one.
John opened the door and tried to smile. He knew it was strained. He knew his eyes didn’t shine. But he was trying. That’s all anyone could expect from him, right?
“Hey, Liam,” he said as he stood back to let the younger man in.
“Everything alright?” Liam asked. As usual, he got straight to the point.
“Not right now, but it will be,” John replied. He knew he was being cryptic, but the front doorway wasn’t the best place for this discussion. “Coffee?” he asked.
Liam nodded. “Sure.” John headed over to the kitchen with his partner right behind him. Liam slid into a chair at the kitchen island while John poured him a cup of coffee and handed it to him.
Picking up his own cup, John took a seat opposite his partner. Liam was watching him intently, but now that he was faced with actually having to say the words out loud, he was having trouble voicing his thoughts. This was his only chance to convince Liam he wasn’t insane. If he couldn’t do that, life would get much tougher, because he didn’t stand a chance of convincing anyone else.
As he paused, Liam took a firm hold of the space between them. “Look, John, I know you’re hurting. We all are. Lydia was an incredible woman. Those of us who had the privilege to have her in our lives were blessed, but she’s gone.” His voice had lowered to a whisper, as if it was almost a sacrilege to say the words out loud.
John glared at him. “Don’t you think I know that?” he hissed. “Don’t you think I don’t feel it every moment of every day, especially when I’m here? Alone? Everywhere I look, something reminds me of her and the fact that I’ll never see her again. So, yes, I damn well know she’s gone.”
Liam’s eyebrows had climbed into his scalp. John thought for a moment. He had delivered his diatribe with a little more force than he had intended, but he was sick and tired of everyone tiptoeing around him as if he were a ticking time bomb likely to go off at the slightest provocation. Yes, he was angry. Yes, he had lost his wife. Yes, he was grieving. Yes, he was worried sick over his daughter. But he wasn’t out of his mind.
“Okay,” Liam said gently. “What did you want to talk about?”
John hesitated for a moment and then decided to say it point blank. It was the best way. “Lydia didn’t kill herself.”
He could see the pity in Liam’s eyes and for the first time since they’d known each other, John really, truly, wanted to reach across the island, yank Liam over it, and demonstrate how he felt in a way the younger man would never forget. His nostrils flared and he took one, two, three, deep, calming, breaths. Attacking Liam wouldn’t help his case. He’d give the other man even more ammunition to tear down his theory.
“Don’t give me that look, Liam. I know what I’m talking about.”
“I really believe that you think you do, John. But I also know just how hard it’s been for you to accept that Lydia decided to take her own life and I think you’re grasping at straws.”
John glared at him. “Really, Liam? You haven’t even heard what I have to say, and you’re already judging.”
Liam sighed. “I’m not judging you, but there’s a reason we aren’t allowed to investigate cases involving someone close to us, just like doctors aren’t allowed to treat their own family members. You lose any form of objectivity and start seeing what you hope is there rather than what is literally there.”
John rolled his eyes. “I taught you that, remember?”
One of Liam’s childhood friend’s had been the victim of a drunk driver, and Liam had wanted to be assigned the case. When their super had said no, Liam had flipped. He’d calmed down, though, when John explained precisely why it wasn’t a good idea for Liam to be investigating the case. Not only would he find it difficult to be objective, but it would also hurt their chances in court. The defense could use Liam’s connection to the victim to cast doubt over any evidence they presented. It had taken a few hours, but Liam had finally and grudgingly admitted that John was right.
“I know, John. So, maybe it’s time you took your own advice.”
“I’d love to do that. I’d love to sit back and watch as someone else does their best to catch the killer who murdered my wife. I mean, I’m sure that the detectives on the case are great at their job and all. Oh, but wait… No one is assigned to the case. You know why? Because it’s been ruled a suicide!” John was shouting.
Liam opened his mouth but closed it without saying a word. John could see the wheels in the man’s head turning. “Tell me what you have,” he said finally.
John pulled out a copy of Lydia’s suicide note from his back pocket. He unfolded the paper and pointed out a short passage he’d highlighted.
It would have been just like that time when we went hiking and I fell and broke my leg. It wasn’t your fault and there was nothing you could do to take the pain away, but you suffered with me. Remember what I told you then? Well, I meant every single word and still do.
“This paragraph has been bothering me since I read it but I couldn’t put my finger on why for the life of me,” John said.
Liam nodded. “I remember that trip. You called me in such a panic that I thought the world was coming to an end. She’d fallen down into a small ravine and you were so sure she was going to die. I remember I had to calm you down because it sounded like you were about to throw yourself after her.”
John laughed ruefully. “Yeah, my heart pretty much stopped for the few minutes it took me to reach her. She wasn’t moving, and she wasn’t answering me. Luckily, it was only a concussion and a broken leg, but I swear I thought I’d lost her.”
“Yeah,” Liam replied, “and you seemed pretty determined to follow her.” He gave John a pointed look. The latter just snorted.
“I’m not suicidal,” John muttered. “Not now. Because I know that this wasn’t an accident and it wasn’t a suicide.”
“How?”
“As I said, I couldn’t see the significance of this passage at first. I guess I’d blocked out most of that day because it took me until last night to remember. By the time I’d managed to get down to her in that ravine, she was regaining consciousness. And my reaction was probably a little over the top because as soon as she came round and took one look at my face, she tried to comfort me, even though it should have been the other way around.”
Liam smiled. “I’m not surprised. That was Lydia. She was always looking out for everyone.”
John nodded. “The thing is, I remember clearly what happened now. I was terrified that she had died, and I told her so. She smiled a
nd shook her head. She swore to me at that moment that she’d never leave me if she had a choice.”
There was silence for a moment as John paused to let those words sink in.
“And you think that she referred to the incident in her letter to give you a message?” Liam asked. Where moments before he’d been skeptical, now it was clear that he was beginning to wonder.
“Yes, I do. Otherwise, what was the point? As she lay there in that ravine, I said a million times that I wished I could take her pain away. I berated myself constantly for not looking after her better, but the only thing she said to me that would even be slightly relevant here was that she’d never leave me if she had a choice.”
“Maybe you’re on to something. So you think she was being coerced into writing the letter and this was her way of telling you, is that it?”
John nodded. “And don’t tell me that you don’t think the fact her body was cremated by ‘accident’ isn’t suspicious at all.”
Liam shrugged. “At the time, I did think it was an honest mistake, but if we assume Lydia was murdered, then we have to consider the cremation being a mistake as bogus as well.”
“I thought it was strange at the time, but I dropped it because there was nothing else to go on. She’d killed herself, so why would anyone purposely have her body cremated? But if she was murdered…”
“If she was murdered, the only reason to have her body cremated would be to hide evidence.”
John nodded. “Exactly. What I want to know is how the killer managed to get that cremation order filled out.”
“What do you mean?”
“The coroner’s assistant had arranged to ship the body out and said the cremation order had come down from the Deputy Chief Constable’s office. The story they gave me was that it was supposed to be issued for an unidentified and unclaimed body but that someone accidentally put down Lydia’s name instead of “Jane Doe #46” on the order.”
Liam’s eyes widened. “Are you kidding me? How can you make a mistake like that? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”
John shrugged but gave him a pointed look.
“Because I was being an ass and kept accusing you of being in denial,” Liam said, answering his own question. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I guess I would have thought the same thing if I were you.”
Liam gave him a grateful smile. “So, the order came from the Deputy Chief Constable’s office? That’s strange.”
“Yeah, it is. And I’m telling you it’s got me seeing conspiracies left, right, and center. I mean, my first instinct was to think that it must have been a genuine mistake because the alternative would mean that someone in that office, someone who is supposed to be on our side, is on the side of a killer. And that’s a massive accusation. But now I can’t help but think that it’s a possibility.”
Liam nodded. He was getting on board with the murder theory, John could tell.
“Whoever it was, they were obviously desperate or in a big rush because it was done so sloppily. They left a clear trail back to the Deputy Chief Constable’s office,” John continued.
“Hmm, that was a stupid move. Maybe something went wrong. Do you think the DCC is involved?”
“Not necessarily. The order could have been actioned by someone lower down the chain of command - a secretary or an assistant. All they’d have to do is change the name on the order and slip it into a stack of other documents that needed signing. Do you think the Deputy Chief Constable stops to read each and every piece of paper he signs?”
“So, we’re basically looking for anyone who had access to the cremation order.”
“Pretty much.” And then John realized something. “We can’t take this to the super, can we?”
Liam shook his head. “Even if he believed us about Lydia being murdered, without solid evidence, he’d shut us down the moment we mention the Deputy Chief Constable’s office. And the only evidence we have so far points to a suicide and a clerical error. It’s hardly substantial.”
“I hate to say it, but that’s pretty much the way things stand,” John agreed.
“We’re also too close to the case. You know he’d never let us investigate this ourselves, if he knew.”
“I know. I have no choice, Liam. I’m going to have to do this on the side,” John said.
“You won’t have to do it by yourself, John. I loved Lydia too.”
“I know, but I can’t ask you to do this. We have no idea who or what is involved, and I won’t ask you to risk your career over this.”
Liam rolled his eyes. “You’re not asking me to do anything. I’ve decided, and there’s jack all you can do about it. So, instead of arguing and wasting time, why don’t we get to work so we can put Lydia’s killer behind bars.”
John’s nostrils flared. He’d been avoiding mentioning Lydia’s name in an effort to distance himself from the case. He needed to be objective. But every time Liam mentioned her name, his objectivity flew out the window and was replaced with a desperate, raging need for vengeance. One thing was certain, no matter who killed Lydia, they would pay. He’d make sure of it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
TEDDY SAT ON the floor outside Diana’s dorm room. With his back against the wall, he was trying hard not to fall asleep. It was already two in the morning, and he’d been waiting for her for four hours. Maybe he should have tried to find her. Maybe just sitting here hadn’t been his smartest idea, but when he’d taken a more proactive approach a week ago and hunted her down at some frat party, she’d totally freaked out on him. Of course, it might have had something to do with the fact that she’d been blind drunk at the time and he’d tried to drag her home, against her will. Even so, maybe he should go track her down again.
He groaned. He’d give her another half an hour, then he’d go look for her. He’d sling her over his shoulder and bring her back to her room if he had to.
Diana was spiraling out of control, and he was worried about her. She’d started ditching class, her grades were slipping, and her professors were just as worried as he was. He knew that the only reason they hadn’t come down harder on her was because of the death of her mother.
He grimaced and slammed his head against the wall behind him. He would not allow himself to shed any tears. Not here at any rate. He’d do it in the privacy of his own room, as he always did. Lydia had been a wonderful woman. She’d accepted him for who he was and had welcomed him, something his own mother hadn’t been willing to do once she’d discovered he was gay.
Teddy hadn’t been comfortable with the idea of revealing the truth about his sexuality to Diana’s parents – mostly because of the reaction of his own family – but as it was, he needn’t have worried. There were a few awkward moments, but ultimately he’d been welcomed into the bosom of her family. He grinned at the memory of the first time Diana had brought him home.
“Di, please don’t tell your parents I’m gay,” he’d begged. “I don’t want them… I don’t want them to look at me with the same disgust and disappointment my own folks do.”
Diana had rolled her eyes. “Teddy, my parents aren’t like that. And, anyway, I think you’ll really want to tell my dad.”
“Why?” he asked suspiciously.
“Well, if he doesn’t know you’re not into girls, he’ll assume you’re either my boyfriend or are simply pretending to be my friend to get into my pants. That means you will get ‘the talk’.”
“The talk?”
“Yeah, the one where he describes in gruesome detail what he’ll do to you if you hurt me and then promises they’ll never find your body. I think that’s the long and short of it. I’ve never actually heard him deliver the speech, but a few of my potential boyfriends did provide a few details as they were running out the door at full speed,” she said with a wink.
“It’s alright,” Teddy replied. “It can’t be that bad.”
Diana gave him a look that said he was delusional. “Why do you think I’m still a virgin and wi
ll probably remain one until I get married?”
“You just haven’t found the right guy?” Teddy asked hopefully.
She snorted. “Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.”
Teddy nodded. “Doesn’t matter. I’d still prefer you didn’t tell them.”
Diana leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Teddy, I’ll do as you ask because you’re my best friend and I love you. But that doesn’t mean I agree with your approach. You should be proud of who you are.”
Teddy snorted. “And what’s that? A gay nerd who hides behind his appearance as a jock, or, as my father so eloquently describes me, a satanic curse on my family and an abomination.”
Diana turned and slapped him on his arm. Hard. “Ow!”
“Stop talking like that about yourself. Your dad’s a moron who doesn’t deserve to have a son as awesome as you are. And my dad is nothing like that.”
He was still adamant. He wanted to feel normal for once. He didn’t want to be the freak. “Please, Di, for me. Don’t tell them.”
She nodded and cuddled up against him, putting an arm around his waist. “I do love you, you know,” she whispered.
Teddy dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “I love you too, Di. More than you’ll ever know.” She’d saved him. He’d been so alone until she’d come along and brightened his world.
Of course, his resolve to keep quiet about his sexual orientation swiftly evaporated when he’d arrived. Lydia had hugged him tightly, kissed him on the cheek, and thanked him for being a good friend to her daughter, though Diana had assured him she knew nothing. But then came John Hunter. Teddy was tall and well-built thanks to his five weekly training sessions at the gym. John Hunter, however, was slightly taller and seemed even bigger than Teddy. His eyes narrowed threateningly as he looked Teddy over. That was the moment Teddy started to doubt his resolve.
Fifteen minutes later, John invited him into the den to look at his gun collection. Teddy had swallowed hard and followed the other man apprehensively. The moment the door closed, Diana’s father turned and pointedly sized him up and down.
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