Cold Case Christmas

by Jessica R. Patch

  Angry words had been hurled. Words like You’re just like your mother. A home-wrecker. Statements like Wait until the town hears that perfect Nora Livingstone is her mother made over. Nora wouldn’t let Rush explain, and really what could he say? He had cheated on Ainsley with Nora. He was wrong. He admitted it. He’d made amends with Ainsley since, and she was now married to Dan, Troy’s son and Rush’s good friend. Water under the bridge, but Nora had tucked tail and run to Knoxville, never looked back. Never answered a call from Rush.

  He glanced at Troy and ignored his disdain over Rush’s declaration to look into things. It might be a waste of time and manpower, but he’d oblige Nora this one thing.

  He owed her.

  * * *

  Nora’s heart might explode. There were so many emotions going on right now. She’d come home twelve days before Christmas—not by choice—only to arrive at the lodge and be told that Dad and Hailey were out at Shepherd Rock Lake with the police. That alone sent knives to her gut. But now here she was face-to-face with Rush. Time had filled out the young man’s body into a grown man’s, muscled by hard outdoor work more than gym visits; she’d heard he’d built a log cabin up farther on the mountain.

  His hat covered his toasted blond hair, but eyes the color of Hershey bars drilled into hers. Rush wasn’t a promise breaker. He used to be the most noble and honest person she’d ever known. And he could make her laugh on a dime. But then he had hurt her and at the moment she wasn’t sure he’d give the investigation all he had. Troy Parsons wanted to end it right now.

  But Mom was here for a reason and Nora couldn’t let it rest. However, arguing about it when she was standing in the middle of a monster Christmas storm coming through wasn’t wise. She’d predicted back in September low pressures off the Gulf Coast and arctic outbreaks across the Southeast. Snowflakes had begun in early October. This was likely to be the worst snow and ice storm in twenty-five years, but she couldn’t afford to fly south for the winter. She was upside down in debt and she’d been pushed out of her Chief Meteorologist job at channel six in Knoxville.

  To say she was touchy was an understatement.

  Dad approached her. “I’m taking Hailey home, honey. Don’t stay here any longer than you feel you have to. I’ll have the guest chalet stocked for you.” He kissed her forehead.

  She nodded at Dad and watched him climb in his vehicle. Hailey hadn’t once stepped out. Not even to acknowledge Nora was home. She didn’t handle hard situations well. Neither did Nora, but someone had to be Mom’s voice. Someone had to find out the truth.

  Nora walked closer to Mom’s car. All these years, she’d been submerged. Christmas Eve used to be Nora’s favorite night. The resort and lodge was always booked with families and couples from all over the world, anticipating the renowned Christmas Eve Masquerade Ball. A glorious night decorated in red, green and gold. A nativity ice sculpture. Fountains of gold sparkling cider. Christmas music. Friends. Family. Fun.

  Nora’s heart ached. Her father still put on the event as if her mother hadn’t gone missing that night. He had barely said a word about it. Didn’t push or force the investigation. Maybe he had believed the vicious murmurs about Mom.

  Well, not Nora.

  “Nora.” Rush’s voice came softer than moss. “Don’t go any closer. Some things can’t be unseen.”

  And some things couldn’t be undone. “Do you remember it raining and being slick that night?”

  “I don’t know,” he said sadly. She glanced at him, his nose red and eyes deep with compassion and pity. If only he knew how pitiful Nora was. Not two pennies to rub together. But he’d never know. No one would. It was all too humiliating.

  “I don’t.” Nora had always been fascinated with weather, which was why she remembered there had been snow earlier but the temps had been mild for December. “I need to trace her steps that night and find out what time she left the party and ended up here. Someone saw or heard something. They had to have.” If she could piece together the weather from that fateful Christmas Eve, she might be able to determine if the car going into the lake was related to weather conditions or not. Her part-time work as a forensic meteorologist had her doing this often, helping insurance companies with claims.

  Rush licked his lips and pawed his scruffy face. “Let me do it. Spend your time with family. Isn’t that why you’re home so early?” He cocked his head, and plumes of air trailed from his mouth.

  She was here because she had nowhere else to go. When the news played and she wasn’t on-screen they’d know. “I left channel six.”

  Rush’s eyebrows rose. “Really? Why?”

  The cold seeped into her bones and her teeth chattered. “I’m ready for warmer weather. Going to take a job in Florida.” She hoped anyway. She ought to know in the next week or two. And right now she did want warmer weather. She was a human Popsicle.

  Rush frowned. “You love mountain air. Skiing. Snowball fights.”

  “I do know how to pack a snowball,” she quipped. “But people change. I’m ready for palm trees and waterskiing.” She adjusted her knit cap and rubbed her hands, her gloves not keeping her as warm as she’d like, and stared at Mom’s car. “Anything inside besides...her?”

  He scratched the back of his neck. “We found a cuff link in the car, partial male masquerade mask. Haven’t checked the trunk yet, but we’ll gather the evidence, see what we see.”

  A cuff link. A mask. “A man was in the car that night?”

  “Seems like.” His eyes were shifty.

  “What are you keeping from me?”

  “Nothing pertinent to the case.”

  “Promise?”

  “Nora, trust me.”

  She laughed humorlessly. “Last time I trusted you, Rush, you broke two women’s hearts and made me look cheap. I’m sure the whole town thinks it.” Ainsley surely spread it all over the world.

  “No one thinks that, Nora, and you’d have known that if you hadn’t gotten out of Dodge at world-record speed. But that’s what you do.” He shoved a hand on his hip and heaved a breath.

  Nora’s temperature rose a few degrees. “And cheating on women. That’s what you do?”

  Rush’s jaw ticked. “We were kids. And I was going to tell you.”

  “We were twenty-one. And you didn’t. You gave the town a new tale to spin.” But fighting about it was pointless, and Nora was cold and exhausted. “Can you find prints on the cuff link?”

  Rush inhaled and rubbed his chin, then exhaled. His shoulders relaxed. “Doubtful. But I’ll try. I’ll try everything.” He held her gaze and she fidgeted. Angry at him or not, she wasn’t blind. The man was attractive. Always had been.

  “How did you find the car?” It had been seventeen years. Why now?

  “You remember Brandon Deerborn?”

  Few years ahead of them. “Yeah.”

  “His son was doing a project using Google maps and our town. Found the lake and noticed something in it. Like a shimmer, he said. He went out there, climbed a pine to check it out—fell out of the tree by the way and broke his arm...also he’s grounded for leaving without asking—and Brandon called me. Put the divers in and we hauled it out. Water was too murky to notice it at ground level.”

  “Google maps. Invasive yet...” She shrugged. “He might be grounded but he’ll be a town hero.” Or maybe not. If what people said about Mom was true, there’d be a few who wouldn’t be too thrilled the Deerborn kid had found her.

  Rush didn’t say anything and kept his eyes on the sky. “Storm’s coming in. But I guess you know this already.” He smirked.

  She grinned, then sobered. “I’m serious about investigating. I want answers before I leave here, and I won’t bring up our past again. Better if we leave things on the personal side alone. Focus on the case.”

  “We don’t have a case. Yet.” The freezing rain slacked up.

&
nbsp; “Never hurts to ask questions.”

  “Yes, it does. Sometimes.” Rush shoved his gloved hands in his pockets. “Go home. Be with your family. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  He was right. Nothing she could do tonight. She walked back to her car, opened the door when Rush called out. “Nora Beth, be careful. The roads are slick. Watch for deer.”

  Her middle name was Jane, but Rush had never once used it. A little nod to Little House on the Prairie. In high school, she’d forced him to watch reruns, but there hadn’t been much Rush wouldn’t have done for her. Manly called Laura Beth. Only him. Rush had started that at fifteen. It warmed the chill seeping into Nora’s bones. “Will do.”

  She climbed inside and blasted the heat. She’d regretted pushing Rush away after Mom vanished. She’d been hurt. Wanted a fresh start, to pretend she lived in a town where gossip about Mom hadn’t abounded. Where she didn’t feel shame. But coming home after college—she’d missed Rush so much it ached—she thought he might be willing to give it another chance, and if so she’d stay. And he’d done the one thing she’d worked hard to avoid—made her the subject of ugly rumors.

  She drove carefully through the winding roads and spotted Mom’s favorite café. Charlee, the owner, might know a thing or two. Inside, Charlee met her with a wave. “Well, look who the cat dragged in.” Her face paled. “Sorry. Bad use of words. I heard about your mama. I’m so sorry.” She poured a steaming cup of coffee and slid it to Nora as she sat on the bar stool.

  “Thanks. Did you know anything about that night? Why my mom might be heading out of town or be near the lake?”

  “I wish I did, hon. I loved Marilyn, but she only let one get so close before she distanced herself.”

  Nora sipped the brew and talked with Charlee until the weather picked up. “I better get on back. If anything comes to mind, call me.”

  Charlee nodded. “Be safe, Nora.”

  Nora inched along the roads until, almost thirty minutes later, her father’s vast lodge peeped out from the evergreens. A wintry, dark sky overhead seemed to close in on the structure that housed two hundred and fifty-two guests. Nestled in the mountains behind were fifty chalets. Every room, every wooden cottage would be occupied, except the guest chalet where she liked to stay.

  White lights clinked in the trees as gusts of wind barreled through the pines. The smell of evergreen, wood smoke and cinnamon wafted into her car—the smell of home. She stepped out of the car, pinched the bridge of her nose, inhaled deeply and trudged up the walk; someone had plowed the drive for her. Fresh snow hadn’t quite blanketed it again. Something stole her nose’s attention. She sniffed. Was that paint? She followed the scent to the side of the chalet and gasped.

  In the moonlight, she made out one of her two most hated words to call women along with a note painted underneath telling her to die like her mother. Shock sucked the breath from her, and then she caught sight of a shadow moving toward her. She had only seconds to block the blow and failed.

  A meaty fist covered in camouflage gloves connected with her face, knocking her into two feet of snow. White spots popped in front of her eyes and her head spun.

  “Take the warning and take a hike,” the masked man growled. “Or you’ll regret it.”

  His feet crunched along the snow.

  Buzzing whizzed in her ears and then silence.

  When her eyes fluttered open, a man had her. Panic shot through her system and she flailed, scratched and punched.

  “Hey, hey! Nora. It’s me. It’s Rush. You’re safe. You’re safe.”

  Rush. Rush punched her? No. Her head was fuzzy and aching. Rush had her in his arms. It felt familiar, but also strangely new and wonderfully safe and warm. Her stomach dipped and as if he could feel her thoughts, he nestled her closer against him.

  “I got hit,” she croaked.

  His grip tightened. “And I’ll be sure to return the favor when I find the guy.” His tone was raw steel. She laid her head against his chest, heard the staccato beat of his heart. “Did you see him?”

  “No. Just the writing on the wall, and then he stuck it to me and knocked me out.” Her limbs were numb and stiff. Her teeth chattered. Rush carried her up the porch steps.

  “Do you need a doctor?”

  “No. It’s no worse than when I got bucked off that horse that time.”

  “You had a mild concussion then, Nora Beth.” Rush chuckled and swung open the front door and stepped inside, then flipped on a lamp on the side table.

  “Right. Not the best comparison. Well, I’m fine. Honest. Just sore.” She peered into his rich eyes and nearly got lost. Certainly got choked up.

  He laid her on the soft leather sofa and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll get your bags. You need to get into dry, warm clothes and I’ll start a fire for extra heat.” He stepped outside before she could speak, brought in her luggage and carried it to her bedroom, then returned. “Make some coffee. Yeah?”

  She nodded.

  “Sure you don’t need a doctor?” He touched her face. “Lying in the snow probably helped the swelling, but...”

  She shivered and he pointed to the bedroom. “We’ll talk in a minute. Or I can take you to the hospital.”

  Shaking her head, she shuffled to the bed and he closed the door. If Rush hadn’t come to her rescue... She didn’t want to think about what might have happened.

  Clearly, she’d angered someone. But who? She’d seen dozens of locals on the scene; they’d heard her rant. By now, Nora sticking around to find out what happened that night was bound to be spreading all over Splendor Pines like lice in a day care. Between talking to Rush, leaving the scene, stopping to talk to Charlee—someone had rallied fast. Not fast enough or Nora wouldn’t have walked up on them.

  After throwing on sweats, wool socks and an oversize Vols sweatshirt, she looked in the mirror. No swelling but her right cheek had a purplish tint. Wood smoke and coffee brewing drew her into the living room decorated in cozy earth tones. The fire reached out and hugged her cold skin. She inched closer to the large brick hearth and sat.

  “How you feelin’?” Rush made himself at home in the open kitchen. He took two white mugs from the cabinet and poured the coffee, then opened the fridge and frowned. He rifled in the other cabinets until he found powdered creamer and sugar. He carried everything to the living room and placed them on the coffee table.

  “Oh, ya know...like I got punched and knocked into the snow.” She touched her cheek.

  “What exactly happened?”

  She gave him the rundown. “Told me to back off or I’d end up like my mom. Almost did if you hadn’t shown up. Why are you here?”

  His neck flushed as he handed her a cup of coffee. “Honestly? I don’t know. I guess to check in on you.”

  Whatever the reason, she was thankful. She added cream and sugar to her cup.

  “You recognize the voice by any chance?” Rush hurriedly asked, as if hoping to skim over the topic of his popping in.

  “No. I was kind of busy being terrified. Sorry.”

  Rush sat beside her, laid a gentle hand on her knee. “I’m sorry too.”

  Half of her wanted to jerk his hand away, but the frightened half needed the tender contact, the reassurance and compassion. He removed his hand and she sipped her coffee, relishing the warmth of the fire and the brew.

  The fire crackled.

  He studied the purple mark on her face and balled a fist. “Nora, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go poking around after what happened. This is my job. Better to let me handle it.”

  Nora huffed. “Someone doesn’t want me looking into my mother’s death. Which means it might not have been an accident. More than ever, I have to.”

  Rush drank his coffee and kept quiet, his jaw slowly working.

  “What’s the matter? I know that face.” />
  Rush pinched the bridge of his nose. “Everything is the matter, Nora Beth. From the minute we pulled the car from the water to right this second. No, it might not have been an accident, but chances are it was, and this attack on you might be from someone who is afraid you’ll discover...you know...an affair. If even a quarter of the rumors are true, then there are a lot of people who won’t want the past hauled into the present. Next time it might not be a punch to the face.” He skimmed the bruise with his fingertips, bringing a wave of emotion she’d tried to bury years ago.

  She turned away enough to force him to keep his hands to himself. She didn’t need the attraction or the old feelings. But he did have a point. “Then those men shouldn’t have had those affairs. What happened to nobility, fidelity and honesty? If their dirty secrets get exposed, then so be it. They shouldn’t have done it.” Mom shouldn’t have either. Why would she?

  Rush’s nostrils flared, but he didn’t respond.

  “What happens when you investigate? Secrets will be exposed. One way or the other.”

  He drained his coffee and set the cup on the hearth. “I’m not worried about my safety. I am worried about yours. Besides, I’m going to be more discreet than you.”

  “You’re going to have to talk to more than men you suspect could be guilty. You’ll have to talk to neighbors, friends and, sadly, wives. It is what it is. I don’t want to hurt people. But I do want the truth about that night. Someone has answers to my thousands of questions.”

  One being why Dad never stayed on top of the investigation. Why didn’t he hire a private eye? Was he glad to be rid of Mom? Was he tired of having an unfaithful wife? Nora couldn’t ignore these rumors like she had as a teenager. They were staring her down and now that she’d been attacked and told to back off, denying that even one of them were true would be naive. Mom, why? Did you not love Dad? He was amazing and wonderful. He gave them everything.