Cold Case Reopened

by Caridad Piñeiro

  “Jax, is it? Did you charm him into doing this or did you do something else?” Matt said with a snigger.

  Jackson stepped toward him, fists clenched, but Rhea laid a hand on his chest to stop him. “We will get to the truth, Matt. And when we do, you’d better hope that you have been telling the truth all along, otherwise...”

  She couldn’t finish, because she couldn’t imagine what she might do to him. She’d never pictured herself as a violent person, but...she wanted to hurt him the way he’d hurt Selene. She wanted him to pay for everything he’d done to her sister.

  Afraid she would lose control, she whirled, grabbed Jackson’s hand and dragged him back toward his cruiser. At the passenger door, Jackson opened it and then leaned on it, a hint of a smile on his face.

  “You got...spunk, Rhea. I kind of like it,” he said, surprising her and, before she could respond, he walked to his side of the cruiser, got in and started the car.

  “Are we going to see the Avalon Police Chief?” Rhea asked.

  “We are. I’m sure by the time we get there he’ll know someone shot at us and have heard from Matt,” Jackson said. With a strangled laugh he added, “I’m not sure he’ll be happy to see us.”

  For once, Rhea couldn’t argue with him.

  “THAT WENT WELL,” Jackson said and blew out a sharp breath.

  “Not,” Rhea added with a roll of her eyes.

  Jackson leaned against the bumper of his cruiser, tucked his arms across his chest and peered at the Avalon Police Station. With a shake of his head, he said, “At least he promised to check out Matt’s story about the rifle.”

  “Convenient, right?” Rhea asked and likewise took a spot against the vehicle, her gaze also on the stationhouse.

  “Especially since it was a .22. The same caliber as whoever was shooting at...us,” Jackson said, careful of his words since he didn’t want to worry Rhea that someone was targeting her.

  Rhea shifted her gaze to him. Her blue eyes were dark, clearly reflecting her concern. “You mean me, don’t you? Someone was shooting at me.”

  With a slight dip of his head, he acknowledged it. “I can’t deny that it seems like someone wants you to drop this.”

  Rhea’s gaze skipped over his face, questioning. Almost challenging before she said, “Do you think I should drop this?”

  His answer was immediate. “No. The fact that someone wants to shut you up confirms that they’re trying to hide something.”

  She looked away and sucked in a deep breath. In a voice tight with emotion she said, “I’m not afraid of pushing for the truth, Jax.”

  He ran his hand up and down her back, trying to soothe her upset. “I’m not, either. And to get to you, they’re going to have to come through me. I won’t let that happen.”

  She surprised him then by turning into his side, her head tucked against his chest, the gesture so trusting his heart constricted. He splayed his hands against her back and he almost spanned the width of it with one hand, reminding him of how petite she was. How vulnerable.

  “I won’t let that happen,” he repeated and brushed a kiss across her temple.

  That action propelled her into moving away from him. She tucked her hands under her arms and shook her head. “This is confusing, Jax.”

  He had no doubt she wasn’t referring to Selene’s case. He held his hands up in surrender. “It is, and I’m sorry. It’s time we got back to Regina. I’ve got some calls to make and some more research to do before we return to search beneath the ridge.”

  “I’ve got some things I want to go over, as well,” Rhea said.

  With a nod, he opened the door and waited until she was sitting. “It’ll be dinnertime by the time we get back to Regina. How about we get some take-out barbecue?”

  “I’d love that. Thanks.”

  JACKSON’S DINING ROOM table was covered with a mix of spareribs, brisket burnt ends, cornbread, beans, coleslaw, and the photos and papers from Rhea.

  Rhea sat at one end with a plate piled with food she had barely picked at, not because it wasn’t tasty, but because she was too focused on reviewing materials she had already seen dozens of times in the last six months.

  Jackson was at the other side of the table, a nearly clean plate sitting there while he read the papers. As Jackson set the materials down, he took note of her watching him, and of her virtually untouched dinner.

  “You need to eat something. We didn’t eat all day, and you’re going to need the fuel tomorrow for that hike beneath the ridge.”

  With a quick lift of her shoulders, she said, “I’m not really hungry.”

  He shot to his feet then, wincing as he straightened. Grabbing his back with one hand, he stretched before coming to her side of the table.

  “You okay?” She’d seen him suffer with his back more than once in the last couple of days and wondered if it was from an old injury.

  “I am.” He gathered the materials at her side of the table and shifted her plate of food directly in front of her. “Eat. Once you do, we can go over this. Again.”

  Rhea stared at the food and then shot a quick glance up at Jackson. The hard set of his jaw and steel gray of his gaze said he wouldn’t budge.

  She dug it into the brisket and ate the perfectly cooked meat. It was tender with a delicious barbecue sauce. The taste awakened hunger, as did Jax’s promise...or maybe it was better to say his threat that they wouldn’t look at anything until she had eaten.

  She forked up more meat and, after, beans and coleslaw. Before she knew it, she had cleaned her plate and, as promised, Jackson spread out the materials he had taken away earlier.

  Jackson gestured to the police photos of Matt’s SUV the afternoon after Selene’s disappearance. The Jeep was pristine.

  “It rained that afternoon,” Jackson said, prompting her for a response.

  “It did, but you saw that the road was paved with gravel. There was no reason for Matt to clean it. And why did he get rid of that liner? Because he was afraid someone would find evidence the Avalon Police missed?” she pressed.

  Jackson hesitated, obviously uneasy, forcing Rhea to push on. “I’m not afraid of the evidence, Jax. It makes me sick in here,” she said and tapped her chest. “It makes me sick to think of Selene dead. Of how she died, but we need to be able to talk about it openly.”

  Jackson pursed his lips and inclined his head, scrutinizing her as if to judge her sincerity. Apparently convinced, he said, “If Matt had Selene in the back of the Jeep, on that trunk liner, it would be hard to get rid of blood evidence.”

  “Unless she was wrapped in something. A tarp maybe.”

  He nodded. “Maybe. Or unless he put her in that bonfire instead and didn’t take her up the mountain.”

  “But there were no bones there.”

  Another slow nod. “And we don’t know if it’s possible to do that in a bonfire. I’m researching that in addition to the timeline of Selene’s trip from Avalon to Regina.” Jackson grabbed a map where Rhea had written in the approximate time Selene had left and been seen by the lake and the exact time that Selene had texted her sister that night.

  Rhea ran her finger along a route on the map and said, “Selene had to have stopped somewhere. Maybe more than one place. I did the route a few times to time it, but I’d like to do it again and see what’s along the highway.”

  “First, we search the ridge. And then, depending on what we find, we investigate what’s possible with the bonfire. Hopefully by then we’ll have something from the Avalon PD about Matt’s rifle and the cell phone location information I requested from both Matt’s and Selene’s provider.”

  Puzzled, Rhea narrowed her gaze. “Don’t you need a subpoena for the cell phone data?”

  “Not under ECPA,” he began, but paused at her continued puzzlement.

  “The Electronic Communications Privacy A
ct. I don’t need probable cause, just sufficient facts to support making the request, and I think you gave me what I needed,” Jackson explained.

  “Thank you,” she said, appreciative of his recognition of all that she’d done.

  “We should be thanking you. I feel guilty that I didn’t do more at the time, only... Once the Avalon PD cleared Davis, the most plausible explanation was that Selene committed suicide,” Jackson said, real apology in his tone.

  She laid her hand over his as it rested on the map she had marked up. “I get it, but Selene wouldn’t do that. She just wouldn’t.”

  Jackson had had his doubts in the weeks after they’d closed the case and was ashamed that he hadn’t done more. But he’d been told to leave it alone and, by then, the winter crush of tourists had kept him busy with an assortment of problems and crimes. Mostly minor incidents, but enough of them that he’d been too busy to give any time to a case his department had closed.

  “I understand,” he said and turned his hand to take hers into his. He squeezed it tenderly and offered her a compassionate smile. “We will get to the bottom of this. I won’t stop this time.”

  He cupped her cheek with his free hand and ran his thumb across the dark smudges beneath her eyes. “We’re both tired. It’s time we got some shut-eye.”

  “Let me clean up.” She started to round up the plates, but Jackson stopped her by laying a hand on her forearm.

  “I’ll get this put away. Go get some rest,” he said, intending to not only clean up their dinner, but do a quick walk around his property to make sure all was well.

  Rhea was too smart not to realize there was more to his request, but she complied, and he was grateful for that. He was too tired for another argument, although in the last couple of days they’d seemed to agree more than disagree.

  He quickly loaded the dishwasher and went to the sofa, where he’d laid his service belt. Grabbing his flashlight and Glock, he exited his home, careful to lock the door as he did so. Aiming the flashlight, he first searched the woods close to the front door and then did his walk-around, vigilant for signs of any intruders.

  Nothing.

  Relieved, he went back inside. He turned on a small lamp on the first floor and softly tread up the stairs, careful to avoid the squeaky floor at the landing.

  Rhea’s door was closed. Jackson hesitated there, wondering if she was okay, but then he hurried to his own bedroom. After showering and slipping on a pair of pajamas, he got into bed and grabbed his tablet. He had reached out to some experts on body cremation and luckily he’d gotten a response. Rhea would not be happy with what the expert had to say.

  He added the expert’s response to his digital notebook and then skimmed through the remaining emails. His friend with the cadaver dogs had answered that he could assist them the next day. Confirming that the time his friend had proposed was acceptable, he finally set the tablet away for the night.

  Time to get some rest because the hike along the base of the ridge would not be easy, both physically and emotionally.

  No matter what they found tomorrow, it was going to upset Rhea. He was certain of that. He only wished he could be as certain of what had happened to Selene that night.

  Nothing they’d found so far had eliminated her husband in her disappearance. If anything, he remained the prime suspect in Jackson’s book.

  But with no body, a circumstantial case would be hard to prove. Based on what they had so far, no district attorney would bring the case before a grand jury.

  If they couldn’t find anything more on Davis, they’d have to push on with the other scenarios.

  He just hoped Rhea would be satisfied by whatever they discovered.

  Chapter Nine

  The sounds and smells of breakfast dragged Jackson from bed. He’d already been up, mentally reviewing last night’s response from the forensics experts, as well as what they’d need for today’s hike. But whatever Rhea was whipping up smelled just too good.

  He threw on clothes and hurried down to find Rhea at the stove, already dressed for the day. He hadn’t known what to expect given what she’d worn over the last few days. Loose and very feminine blouses and hip-hugging capri pants.

  This morning she was wearing faded jeans and a light sweater that hugged those curves he’d noticed more than he should. Well-used hiking boots, and he recalled that she’d mentioned that she and Selene had regularly gone for hikes. A different side to the talented artist, and one that was more in his wheelhouse. One that was more dangerous for sure, because it was too easy to picture the two of them taking long walks through the woods together.

  “Good morning,” he said and headed straight to the coffee maker to pour himself a cup. She already had a mug on the counter beside her as she worked at the stove.

  “Good morning. I hope I didn’t wake you by making too much noise,” Rhea said and peered at him over her shoulder.

  “I was awake, but those amazing smells forced me to move my butt,” he said and ambled to her side to see what she was making.

  “I just pulled some things from the fridge. Do you like Mexican food?” she said and, once again, glanced at him, a little apprehensive.

  “Love it,” he said and passed a hand down her back to comfort her. “It smells amazing.”

  “Thanks. I figured we’d need something substantial for today’s hike.” She opened the oven and removed a pan holding corn tortillas filled with eggs and chorizo.

  “Take a seat and I’ll finish these up.” She tilted her head in the direction of the table she’d already set.

  He did as she asked and, in a few minutes, she served him a plate with the corn tortillas topped with a red sauce. His stomach rumbled in anticipation, and he barely waited until she was seated to dig in. The flavors exploded in his mouth, and he murmured an appreciative sound. “Delicious. Thank you.”

  Rhea smiled, her blue eyes alight with pleasure at his compliment. “You’re welcome. It’s my small way of showing how much I appreciate what you’re doing.”

  “It’s my job, Rhea. But I wish we’d done more at first. Known more, like about the domestic abuse,” he admitted.

  She did the tiniest shrug that barely moved her shoulders. “You couldn’t have known. Even I didn’t really know, and Selene and I were like this,” she said and crossed her middle and index fingers in emphasis.

  Despite her all-action clothes for hiking, her elegant fingers and wrists still bore her rings and bracelets. Those feminine touches tightened his gut and had him imagining things best left alone. Especially considering why Rhea was in his home.

  “That won’t happen this time. We will not leave any stone unturned, but even with that, we may not have enough to charge Matt. You realize that, right?”

  The blue of her eyes darkened, and she paused with her fork halfway up to her mouth. “I do, Jax. Trust me, I do.”

  “Good,” he said, hating that he’d dimmed her earlier joy and possibly caused her pain, but he didn’t want to set her up for even greater pain by not being realistic.

  The exchange created a pall over their meal, and they finished it in silence. Since she was already dressed, Rhea offered to clean up, and Jackson hurried to dress. In no time, he was ready and headed out to his shed to grab a machete. They might need it to clear their way through the underbrush at the base of the ridge. But as he neared, he noticed that the shed door was open.

  He reached for his weapon and called out, “Police! Come out with your hands up!”

  No sound came from the shed. He approached warily, ready for action as he pulled the door open. He immediately noticed that several items had been moved around, but other than that, everything was as it should be.

  He wanted to believe that he’d merely forgotten to shut the shed, but he was the kind of person who had a place for everything, and things were clearly not in the place he’d left them.
<
br />   Someone had been in the shed.

  Matt Davis? he wondered. Had he followed them back from Avalon to see where Rhea was staying? Had he also been the one at the inn?

  He grabbed his machete, but didn’t touch the tools that had been moved. With a quick call to the station, he arranged for his colleagues to dust the tools for prints.

  When he returned to the house, Rhea was standing on the back deck, arms tucked tight across her chest against the slight nip in the morning air. “Everything okay?”

  “Fine,” he lied, not wanting to worry her.

  She seemed to see through his ruse, but didn’t challenge him.

  It took only a few minutes for them to grab some water bottles and their jackets for the hike and hit the road.

  RHEA SAT IN silence beside Jackson, wondering what he wasn’t telling her. She’d seen the look of concern on his face as he’d returned from his shed. Had he seen something unusual, or was he just worried about what would happen on their hike today much like she was?

  She’d been up half the night imagining Selene out in the woods beneath the ridge. Trying to hold on to that belief that her sister was still alive, but even that vision brought despair. If Selene was still out there, what was happening to her? Was she being abused? Was she losing hope that she’d be found?

  Rhea would never lose hope, but in that way Selene was the weaker of the two of them. Her mother had often used a Shakespeare quote to describe Selene’s spirit. Swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circle orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.

  Selene’s love had never been inconstant, but she’d been easily swayed at times. Rhea was convinced that was why Matt had deluded Selene about his real character. A character that had convinced Selene to abandon her dreams of being a singer for a more stable profession as a music teacher.