Placing the journal on her lap, she opened to the first page. The smooth, tiny writing was neat and filled the first page. The entry was dated a little more than six years before and detailed a case he’d just finished.
A memory flooded her mind with Julian telling her how he wanted to remember certain aspects of some cases. When she’d asked him why, he had explained that he learned something for each case—sometimes many somethings—and he wanted to remember those things. He’d always tried hard to be a better detective and evaluated himself more harshly than any of his superiors ever had.
She’d admired that quality about him most, and how he strove to be the best he could be. These journal entries spoke of that. He talked about the wrong turns he’d made in a case and suggestions to how he could improve for the next case.
She flipped ahead a few pages and read another, laughing out loud and startling Clint at one of the silly stories he’d always told about a case that involved a naked man found running through a neighborhood. Even in his retelling, it made her giggle and sad all at the same time.
It was bittersweet to go through the entries and she couldn’t quite bring herself to do so thoroughly. Instead, she began skipping pages here and there, trying to see if anything had been marked by the sender. Or perhaps a note had been left for her.
She didn’t come across anything until she was near the end of the book, and it wasn’t actually something she saw but something she didn’t. The entry dated a few months before Julian’s death and the pages turned easily to the spot because, as she observed it more closely, she noticed that several pages were missing.
Her heartbeat picked up. Was this what the sender wanted her to find? And why hadn’t they pointed it out? Or was not pointing it out a tactic to keep anyone who could intercept the delivery from knowing the truth?
She flipped back to before the missing pages and began to read. It was a case she didn’t remember Julian discussing with her. He didn’t tell her much, but he would hint at some cases, especially the confusing ones, when he needed an outside opinion. She didn’t recognize any of the details about this one, though.
He started the entry with describing the day and how he’d talked to the PD receptionist, Kathleen Cho. Margot thought back and could remember the woman. She’d always worn too much makeup and her black hair had been lightly salted with gray that almost seemed premature. She’d left the police department about three years prior, if Margot remembered correctly.
Per Julian’s words, the day had started out normal enough, the type of day he dreaded but also a good day for catching up on paperwork. Margot smiled as she read her late husband’s words, his familiar handwriting neat and tidy. She could still remember how he would come home after such days, antsy and feeling like he hadn’t accomplished anything. He would usually go out on long runs after a day like that.
She briefly wondered what Adam was like after such days, thinking back to the last time he’d told her he hadn’t done much at work. He’d seemed fine, relaxed as ever. This made her smile. While Adam and Julian were alike in so many ways, they were drastically different. Those differences didn’t make them better or worse than the other, just different.
Refocusing on the page in front of her, she read a detailed account of all that Julian had accomplished that day. The man had loved lists and checking things off as he went. Then it looked like he had changed pens, but no new date was given. She wondered if it was the same day or if he’d simply forgotten to mark the new date. That didn’t flow with who she knew Julian to be—he was always meticulous when it came to details.
She read on and found that he’d remembered something when he was on his way home and had to go back to work. The line at the bottom of the page cut off as if starting a new sentence but without any identifying information.
The top of the next page was dated several days later and seemed to go on as if nothing had happened. It referenced none of what he’d been about to say, as far as Margot could tell, and she could clearly see that several pages had been cut out.
Then, just a few pages after the next entry, the journal ended for good. Margot swallowed, knowing the reason. Julian had been killed.
She went back and reread the new section again and again, but nothing hinted at what Julian had discovered, for it was clear he’d discovered something. But the questions remained.
Half an hour later, she closed the journal with more force than necessary. She was frustrated and beginning to feel like a caged bird. Clint rose and came to her, resting his head on her knee as if he knew she needed the physical touch.
Leaning back, still stroking Clint’s furry head, she pondered the next, obvious question. Who had delivered this to her and why had they had Julian’s journal? Had they been the one to take out the pages? Or had someone else done that?
She glanced at her phone but knew that Adam would call as soon as he could. Instead, she decided to follow Julia’s advice and put in a movie. She needed something light and happy to distract her until she could talk with Adam. Hopefully, when that happened, they’d both be able to do something about all of this rather than feel like they had their hands tied.
5
Margot reached for Adam the moment he walked through the door late that night. He smelled of laundry detergent and a hint of sweat from his day of traveling, but she didn’t care one bit. Pulling him close, she finally took a deep breath and allowed herself a moment to be close to him.
“You okay, Margie?” he breathed into her hair, tightening his grip around her.
“Yes. Now that you’re here.” She knew she was being sappy, something she usually didn’t give in to, but tonight, she felt it was warranted.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to come back.”
“It’s all right.” She pulled back to look up at him. “Are you okay?”
A lopsided, tired grin filled his face. “Better now that I’m here. It was killing me being so far away and not able to do anything to help you.”
She wanted to ask where he’d been, but she had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to tell her, so instead, she nodded toward the journal on her coffee table. “I’ve had mail.”
“What?” He walked toward it, then stopped, turning to look at her. “What is this, Margot?”
She saw the switch from fiancée to detective in an instant, but she was ready for that. They had things to discuss that transcended their relationship.
“It’s Julian’s case journal.”
Adam sat down, Clint immediately coming to him, “Hey, buddy,” he said, then reached for the journal before stopping, his hand halfway. “May I?”
“Of course.” She joined him on the couch and Clint plopped down between their feet.
He began to flip through the pages, not stopping on any one place until he got to the back. Then he met her gaze. “Pages have been removed.”
She nodded. “I think that those pages have something to do with all of this—it’s the only thing that makes sense. What I don’t understand is who sent this to me, and why? Did they remove the pages or did Julian? Or someone else?” She tossed her hands in the air with an exasperated sigh.
“All right…” He looked down at the passage right before the missing pages and began to read. When he got to the end, she could tell by the look on his face that he had the same questions she did. “How did you get this? Was it mailed?”
“Not exactly. Well, perhaps.”
“What do you mean?”
Margot rose and went to the dining table to retrieve the mailer that the journal had come in. She handed it to Adam and resumed her seat on the couch.
“Julia brought me Chinese food and we took Clint on a quick walk around the block. When we returned, this was sitting on my doorstep. My mail had also been delivered though, so I’m not sure if the mailman brought it or if someone else placed it there.”
“And you didn’t tell the officer or show it to anyone before opening it?” Adam gave her a look that said she knew better
. There had been plenty of evil things delivered by mail in the past, plenty that she knew of and likely plenty that she didn’t, and he was obviously unhappy she hadn’t considered these things before opening the package.
“I know it was foolish, but…Clint sniffed it and didn’t react.” She knew her explanation was lame, but it was the best one she had.
“Oh, Margie.” Adam shook his head, then scratched Clint behind the ears. “You are too much. But I’m glad you’re safe. Both of you.” He looked back down at his dog then picked up the envelope.
“There isn’t a postal mark like you’d expect from it being mailed. Obviously, there’s also no postage. I know that sometimes things can be delivered without it, but I don’t think that’s true in this case.”
“No,” Adam said, turning it over and bringing the mailer closer for inspection. “I think this blue mark tells us all we need to know.”
“It does?” She’d thought it would be important but was glad to hear that Adam probably knew just how it mattered.
“Yes. I’ve used a certified carrier service in the past. They usually use something like a stamp like this. It looks like this one was stamped and, due to the plastic material of the mailer, it rubbed off onto something—either the messenger’s bag or another package probably.”
“So we just have to find what agency uses this kind of stamp then?” she said, feeling more hopeful than she had all day.
“Yes. I’ll make a few calls and see what I can find.”
Margot finally allowed herself a full breath for what felt like the first time that day.
“I’m in desperate need of a shower and some sleep, though.”
“I’m sure,” she said, resting her hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you go home and sleep now, and we’ll call carrier services in the morning?”
He grinned, leaning in to kiss her. “You are the best, most understanding woman on the face of this earth.”
She giggled. “And you are clearly sleep-deprived if you’re going to start making such rash generalizations.”
He winked at her and then stood, calling Clint to his side.
“Do you think…” she started, then hesitated.
“What?” he asked, pulling her close and encircling her in his arms.
“Do you think Clint could stay with me tonight?”
Adam’s grin broadened so widely, she thought it might burst from his face. “You really want him to stay?”
“Yes,” she said shyly. “He’s been such good company.”
“Then yes,” he said. “I’d be happy to leave him here with you. It’ll be good for him.”
“How so?” she asked, the stubble of his chin scratching her cheek as he kissed her there.
“It’ll give him a taste of what it’ll be like when we are married.”
A thrill shot through her at his words. Excitement that was closely followed by dread. “I have so many wedding plans to make.”
“Ugh.” Adam leaned back with a groan. “Can’t we just elope?”
She shook her head, then gently pushed him away and toward the door. “Go sleep so that you can wake up refreshed, Mister Detective. We’ve got work to do.”
He walked obediently toward the door but stopped to look back at her. “Are you really okay, Margot? I’m sure this has to have brought up…difficult memories.”
Margot appreciated his care and his worry, but she knew that tonight was not the time for her to discuss the emotions warring within her. Not only was her fiancée exhausted, but she wasn’t sure she fully understood what she was feeling either.
“We’ll talk, but later.”
He held her gaze as if to make sure she was telling the truth, then nodded once. Then, issuing a command for Clint to stay, he left and pulled the door closed. She knew that if she’d looked out the peephole at that moment, she’d find him standing there, waiting until she locked the door after him.
She obliged and then called to Clint to follow her down the hall. She was tired too, but in a more emotionally-drained type of way. The only thing she’d hold on to was the fact that they had the next step. Granted, she’d have to wait until the morning to do something, but at least they knew what to do next.
Margot slept in, only waking to Clint nudging her gently in a way that told her he needed to go out. She pulled herself out of bed and, wrapped in a thick robe, took him out to the area behind her house. One quick glance to the street assured her of the officer’s presence.
She felt a tug of guilt that they were still there. Nothing had happened since Paul had been found and she wasn’t sure that anything would. By the time Adam came home, he hadn’t had a chance to have Les update him on the cases progress so she didn’t know what had happened, if anything. Though, if the officer was still there, it had to mean that Paul’s killer was still at large. That, or Adam had insisted on the protection.
She doubted that even he would keep her house under watch if he knew there wasn’t a threat. No matter how much he wanted to protect her, she knew that he wouldn’t waste or misuse police resources, nor would he buy into needless anxiety. He was a level-headed man, that was something she could bet on.
Back in the house, she found her phone and saw that she’d missed a call from Adam. She dialed him back immediately and smiled when he promised her coffee and breakfast sandwiches from their favorite restaurant.
She and Clint bided their time until he arrived, and she knew immediately that he’d been successful in his research. Though, from the dark circles under his eyes, she wasn’t sure if he’d followed through with their plan from the night before.
“Did you stay up late researching carrier services last night?”
He shrugged, looking guilty but handing over her sandwich with a smile.
“Adam…” She took the food and made her way to the table. “You need rest.”
“And I definitely got it. I just did the research before I went to bed so I’d have a list of places to call this morning. And it paid off.”
“It did?”
He nodded then took a bite of his sandwich, delaying his response. She slipped a piece of egg to Clint and Adam made a fake scowl at her.
“No wonder he likes it here, you give in to his bad begging habits. Margot, how could you?”
She laughed. “Not often. He just looked so sad.”
“And here I thought you’d be the tough one of us.”
She smiled again, appreciating the bacon and egg sandwich as well as the man who was thoughtful enough to bring it to her. They ate in silence for another minute before she couldn’t take it any longer.
“Aren’t you going to tell me what you found?”
“Hold on.” He swallowed his last bite, wiped his mouth, took a sip of coffee, then met her gaze. “Okay. So I called three places before I finally found something promising.”
“Promising? I thought you found the place?”
“Have some understanding, Margie.” He grinned. “I am about ninety-nine percent positive that this is the right place, but I’ll need to go and check in person.”
“He didn’t recognize my address?”
“He actually wasn’t there and they couldn’t reach him—he was out on a delivery—so I thought I’d just go in and talk to him when he comes in. You know I prefer to do things in person.”
“I agree.” She wiped her mouth then raised an eyebrow in his direction. “May I come with you?”
“I had a feeling you’d ask. And yes. I’ve already told Officer Jordan to go home and get some rest. I’m taking over duty for the day.”
“And the chief signed off on that?” she quipped.
“Surprisingly, yes.”
“So, what about the case?” She knew he would have talked with Les that morning, there was no way Adam would have waited.
“Why don’t I fill you in on the way to the carrier office?”
She agreed and they left, Clint whining his protest. “He’ll be okay,” Adam assured her. “He’s just lamen
ting that you won’t be slipping him any more treats from the table.”
Margot rolled her eyes but soon slipped her hand into Adam’s as they made their way to his car. The streets were busy with morning traffic, more than Margot would have expected for the later hour, but that meant more time for Adam to fill her in on what he’d learn about the case.
“Well?” she prompted when he’d navigated onto the road.
“I called Les for an update this morning. There actually hasn’t been much breakthrough since you discovered Paul’s body, though.”
“How so?”
“Aside from asphyxia, there wasn’t any other evidence on his body. He was in good health and it looked like he was choked by a rather large, muscular person. Most likely male.”
“That’s all they have?”
“Not exactly. They did catch a small break when they found video footage of a car parked on the opposite side of the trail a few blocks down.”
“How so?” she asked, curious as to where a camera would have been. She knew there were many entrance points to the trail and it would be a wide range of places to check.
“Based on the angle of what we assume was the assailant’s exit.” Adam took a side street and maneuvered around a double-parked car on the narrow street. “We had one of our guys track his trail out the way we assume he came in. It looks like Paul was waiting on the trail—like he’d told you he would be—and then someone came up to him from the wooded side. They killed him and then left the way they came. The camera was from a bank across the street to a small parking lot where the killer parked.”
Margot nodded. It would make sense and Paul would have been less likely to expect someone coming up to him from the woods, but did that mean the person had lain in wait after they had done the job?
“What time?”
“What?” Adam asked as he pulled onto a busier street.
“What time did the timestamp say on the video?”
A Killer Cover Up Page 4