Cold Case Christmas

by Jessica R. Patch

  Barely any energy left, she forced her arm out the door and waved.

  See my arm. See I need help.

  “Nora!”

  In a flash, the sound of ripping came through the suffocating barrier, and a blast of wonderful oxygen filled her lungs; she gulped it in. Rush held her up. “Did you see him?”

  She shook her head, coughing and inhaling deep breaths. “Keep this.” He handed her the knife he’d used to cut away the plastic.

  Rush shot from the bathroom and she slid down the wall, pushing back her sweaty, matted hair. She could have died.

  It felt like an eternity before Rush returned and knelt in front of her. “What happened?”

  She told him through ragged breaths. “If you hadn’t shown up...”

  He drew her to him and stroked her hair. “You said he wore a hard hat and had a nail gun.” He looked around the bathroom, at the tools lying on the floor. “He must have taken it with him. I don’t see either.”

  “Do you think he’s working here or he followed us?” The thought froze her blood in her veins.

  Rush frowned. “I can’t say for sure. Either scenario is plausible, but I didn’t notice anyone following us on the way here. Seems likely he’s an employee. I’ll get a list from Ward.”

  “You’re going to interrogate a whole construction crew?”

  “Just the ones who clocked in.” He caressed her cheek. “You sure you’re okay?”

  She nodded. “How many do you think are here?”

  “Thirty, maybe fifty. I don’t know.”

  “That’s going to take a lot of time.” Time they didn’t have.

  Rush gripped her shoulders. “I don’t care if it takes me till Kingdom Come. Whoever did this isn’t going to get away with it.”

  His sober tone slid into her, melting away the fear until it waved again. “Rush, he wasn’t trying to scare or threaten me. He wanted me dead.” Tears stung the backs of her eyes. “He’s going to strike again.”

  “I’m going to protect you, Nora Beth. I promise.” Cupping her cheek, he forced her to make eye contact, to see he would do whatever it took to keep her safe. “Tell me you trust me.”

  He wasn’t asking her to trust him with her heart. Just her life. “I trust you. To keep me safe.”

  “It’s a start,” he muttered. “I don’t want you here any longer than you have to be. I’ll get you back to Pine Refuge and I want you stuck to your daddy like glue, understand?”

  Nora nodded and Rush escorted her outside and into the Bronco. He started the engine and blasted the heat; it blew cold so he turned it back down until it warmed. “Do you still want to keep looking into the past? I plan to continue investigating these attacks, but we don’t have to pursue the past.”

  “Depends. You believe foul play was involved that night?” She didn’t want to have to convince Rush that something sinister happened to Mom. She wanted Rush to believe it for himself. If he did, he’d work harder, be more aggressive in the investigation.

  “We can’t prove it. The striations on her skull are inconclusive. Even if you find the weather in all likelihood didn’t cause the accident, there are a million other things that could have sent her into the lake. Deer. Bobcat. Dog. Not paying attention...”

  She got it. The list was endless. “We can’t prove anything. But if we keep poking around, someone will eventually tell us something or lead us somewhere. And we know the report is inconclusive, but no one else knows. We have leverage.”

  “Nora,” he groaned.

  “It’s not illegal to bend the truth. It’s not even entrapment. I’ve watched every legal show on the planet. I can google it and I will.” She pulled her phone from her purse.

  Rush chuckled. “Okay, Detective Livingstone. I see what you’re saying. I don’t like it, though.”

  “Of course you don’t. But you have nothing to lose.”

  He gripped the wheel and his jaw ticked. Had she struck some kind of nerve?

  Turning the heat full blast, he murmured, “Some of us already lost everything because of this.”

  Was he talking about losing her? What else could he mean? What could she say? Sorry didn’t seem good enough for how much she’d hurt Rush.

  Rush changed the subject. “Do you want the lowdown on Ward?”

  “Yeah. I wanna know.” Better to keep it from getting personal anyway.

  “He thinks your mom was involved with someone else besides him—toward the end of their relationship.”

  Nora covered her face. The overwhelming humiliation set her cheeks aflame. What in the world was wrong with that woman? What if she’d passed down the cheating genes? Was that even possible?

  “Nora,” he said softly. “Do you want me to go on?”

  She wanted a time machine to go back, change everything. “Go on. I’m fine.”

  “He fell in love with her, Nora. Wanted to marry her. Told his wife. It broke up their home but your mom wouldn’t leave your dad.”

  Nora snorted. “What in the world was keeping her?”

  “I don’t know. I suspect your dad knew. I have no clue why he wouldn’t give her the boot.” His cheeks flushed. “Sorry.”

  “No, he’d have every right. How many times can one betray you until you walk away? How could he have trusted her? Yet he says he continued to put money in a personal account. I’d have put a tracking chip under her skin or something.” Nora half laughed. What wasn’t her dad telling her? Why would a woman not leave? Why would a man hang on?

  “I think Ward’s still angry over their breakup, but I’m guessing. And that doesn’t mean he did anything that night.”

  “But so far he’s our best suspect. Unless your dad knows something.” She waited for Rush to respond, but his nostrils flared and he sighed.

  “I said I would. I will.”

  “Today.”

  “Today. Now. Do you want to hear the rest of my conversation with Ward?”

  She nodded.

  “He said she visited a bar and grill outside of town. Mac’s? Sound familiar?”

  “I mean, I’ve heard of it but I’ve never been.”

  “He suspects she was meeting a man there. It’s what caused the downward turn in their affair. Ward doesn’t know who the man might be. Never saw her with anyone else during their time together.”

  “I guess we need to take a trip to Mac’s after you get that list of construction workers from Ward.”

  Nora wasn’t ready for what they might find. But she had no other options.

  SIX

  Rush glanced out his office window into the bull pen, where desks butted up against one another.

  He’d nearly lost Nora this morning.

  The memory sent a new wave of sickness into his stomach.

  After he’d dropped her off at her dad’s, he got the list from Ward McKay, went back to the site and did interviews through lunch. Fifty-two men and not one claimed to have done it. He hadn’t expected them to. But it was still possible that they’d been followed or a worker not on that list had shown up. No one would have thought anything about him being on-site.

  Rush had checked in by phone with Nora after lunch. She’d been searching weather maps and online sites to try to discover the weather that night along with helping her sister at the guest center.

  Now it was nearly five thirty and he was hungry, but every time he pictured Nora with plastic nail-gunned across her face, he lost his appetite. He picked up his cell phone and called as he gathered his coat and keys. She answered on the second ring.

  “Any news?” she asked.

  “No. But we’ll keep searching. Have you eaten?”

  “Not since lunch. You?” Her tone had a hint of hopefulness.

  “How about I stop by Rudy’s and grab some Italian food and we can eat in. The weather is—”

&nb
sp; “Going to get nastier around eight. Sounds good. I’m at the chalet with Dad.”

  “Okay. He going to eat with us?”

  “No.”

  “Chicken Parm still your favorite?”

  A beat of silence passed through the line. “Yeah. Yeah it is.” Was that surprise he detected? There wasn’t anything about her he’d forgotten. Not even the fact that she loved Christmas but hadn’t put a tree up since her mother died. Now she’d been attacked multiple times and heard straight from the horse’s mouth that her mother had been involved in several affairs.

  “It’ll be about an hour before I can get to you. That okay?”

  “Sure. I’ll be the one with the growling stomach.”

  He caught her humor but didn’t miss the grief beneath it. “Sit tight, Nora Beth.” By the time she fell asleep tonight, he might be able to make it a little better.

  Sheriff Parsons met Rush at the main doors. “You callin’ it a night, Rush?”

  “Yeah. No news on the Livingstone case. You hear anything new?” Rush asked as they pressed into the frigid night, light snow but heavy, dry wind. Later, it was supposed to snow and ice again.

  “Nope. How are things?” He gave Rush the inquisitive eye.

  “With Nora?”

  Troy chuckled. “Yes, with Nora. She’s a sweet girl, son. But I don’t see her sticking around long. Don’t get too tied up.”

  He wouldn’t.

  What he was about to do had nothing to do with personal feelings; it was about making a friend feel better—or trying to. “We’re friends. Which is more than we used to be. I’ll take it.”

  Troy clapped Rush’s shoulder. “All right, Rush. All right.” He climbed in his truck and pulled away as Rush slid into his Bronco and headed for his parents’ house.

  Inside, his mother sat on the couch knitting a pink-and-gray scarf. “Rush, what are you doing here?”

  “Can’t a guy come by and see his mama?” He bent and kissed her cheek. “I smell cookies.”

  She snickered. “Family will be here tomorrow. Wanted to get a jump start on snacks. But help yourself to some and take a few to Nora.” She looked up at him. “How is she?”

  “Worse for the wear, but truckin’ on.”

  Dad stepped out of the hallway in his navy blue robe and moccasin slippers. “Nora home?” he asked.

  He’d aged dramatically in the last decade. Frail. His hair, once dark blond like Rush’s, now full of gray. “Yeah, she’s home. Helping look into her mom’s disappearance.”

  Dad’s mouth pinched and divots formed between his eyebrows, but he offered nothing. Rush expected no less. Nora didn’t understand who Dad was these days.

  He turned to Mom. “Do you still have those extra boxes of ornaments up in the attic and the tree you used to put in the family room?”

  She squinted. “I believe so. You putting up a tree?”

  “That’s my plan.” At Nora’s. Who would press him about if he’d questioned Dad or not. He’d promised. “Dad, while I’m thinking about it, do you remember anyone in particular wearing a Phantom of the Opera mask the night Marilyn went missing or anything that might be helpful for me in this investigation?”

  “Can’t say,” he grumbled, and shuffled into the kitchen.

  Can’t or wouldn’t?

  A few moments later, he heard the cookie jar lid clinking. Rush sighed and climbed up into the attic, retrieving two huge boxes of ornaments, and then he brought down the tree. Christmas tree lots wouldn’t be open this late. Artificial would have to do.

  Fifteen minutes later, he was back on the road. Snow steadily coming down. The curves were rough to handle and slick, but he made it to Rudy’s and then to Nora’s chalet over an hour later. Living room lights glowed. Smoke puffed from the chimney.

  He grabbed the to-go boxes and made it to her door, slipping only once. He knocked with his boot. “It’s me, Nora Beth.”

  The door opened. “I’m starving.”

  “You’re welcome.” He stepped inside and greeted Joshua before he left. Rush locked the door behind him. The cabin quickly filled with Italian spices, onion and garlic. Nora had already set the table.

  “Thank you for dinner.”

  He handed her the chicken Parm and piled the linguine on his plate. They made small talk while they wolfed down their meals and he gave her a brief update on the interviews and that his dad had no information to offer, but he didn’t want to talk shop tonight.

  “You want hot cocoa?” she asked.

  “Actually, I was thinking about something else.”

  Nora’s sculpted eyebrow rose.

  Rush chuckled. “It’s outside.” He stood. “Be back.” He braved the cold and brought in the two boxes.

  “What in the world?” Nora said and retrieved the top box. “More pictures?”

  “No. For the rest of the night, I kinda don’t want to talk about the case.” Rush set the box on the floor, then went back out and brought in the tree.

  “Rush, what is going on?” she asked, confusion filling her face.

  He plopped the tree box down and dusted his hands on his pants. “You’ve had a horrible day. And I thought maybe we could bring back some good times tonight.” He paused, hoping this would be okay with her. “It’s time to start putting a tree up, Nora Beth,” he whispered.

  She scanned the tree box and ornaments and shook her head. “I don’t think I can.”

  “Yes, you can. You’ve pushed this case and been attacked but you keep going.” If there was a time to tuck tail, this was it. But she hadn’t. It shifted something inside him. “You can put this tree up. Remember the good times. Believe there will be more to come.” He leaned down to catch her eye. “Let’s do it together.”

  Nora gnawed her bottom lip and crossed her arms across her chest, her oversize red sweater swallowing her in a way that made her ridiculously appealing. She nodded. “Okay, Rush. You’re right. I need some kind of goodness to end this night.”

  Rush’s chest swelled with satisfaction and a Psalm came to mind. “‘I had fainted, unless I had believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living,’” he quoted. “We’ll see the goodness of the Lord in all this. I believe it.”

  Nora opened a box. “I’m glad you do, Rush. You’ve always had stronger faith than me.” She hauled out glass ornaments in red, gold, green and silver.

  Rush pulled out the three-piece prelit tree. He put the sections together, plugged it in and hoped the lights all worked. “I think your faith was pretty strong until that night.” He and Nora had shared that—faith. Hope in the Lord.

  He still hoped. Still believed, but sometimes he had doubts. When it came to finding a wife, having a family. He had to admit he’d been struggling to trust God in that area.

  “It’s too quiet in here,” she said, and grabbed her cell phone. She set it on a small docking station on the counter and a Christmas music station belted from the speaker. “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” played, bringing the atmosphere back to an upbeat vibe. A few lights were out and he messed around until he got them working.

  “You ready?”

  Nora stared at the white lights casting a romantic glow on the cabin. Her eyes filled with moisture, and Rush couldn’t help it; he closed the distance between them and laced his hand in hers.

  “I forgot how much I’ve missed this. Mom used to say colored lights were fun, but white lights were pure. Innocent. Clean. She was right.”

  Rush studied the lights. He’d never thought about it that way. In terms of innocent. Clean. Interesting for a woman who had multiple affairs. Something stirred deep within him. He couldn’t put a finger on it, but all of a sudden, he felt sorry for Marilyn Livingstone.

  Nora started trimming the tree with the glass ornaments and humming along with the music as “Blue Christmas” belted t
hrough the room. He’d had some pretty blue Christmases over the past several years.

  “What are you asking Santa for this year?” He placed a gold glittery ornament on the tree.

  “You know what I want, but since we aren’t discussing that right now...a job would be pretty great. Bills won’t pay themselves.” She dug through the ornaments and retrieved a small wooden box. “What’s this?”

  “Oh, wow.” Rush laughed, but his chest tightened. “Open it.”

  She did. Her eyes widened and she gaped. “I can’t believe you still have this.” Nora held up a ceramic hand, painted red and white like a candy cane. She held her own hand against it. Perfect fit.

  Ought to be. It was hers.

  She snickered until she found the acrylic painted inscription written on the palm, then she sobered. “Do...do you want me to put it back? Or...”

  “Hang it,” he managed, emotion choking his voice. “It was a good memory.”

  “You have the other three?” she asked.

  “Somewhere.” He turned away to get his bearings. She’d made that first hand in their freshman year of high school. The plan was to make one each year forever. And one day when they were old, their tree would be nothing but Christmas hands.

  He read the black painted note.

  You have my hand and my heart. Forever. I love you always.

  Nora

  The date was right under her name. Over twenty years ago.

  He didn’t have her hand. Or her heart.

  “Silent Night” came on the music station. His favorite. Perfect song to match the atmosphere outside, where fat wet flakes fell. It was a winter wonderland.

  The fire inside crackled.

  Nora’s candle smelled wonderful. Not as good as her, though.

  “You want cocoa now?” Nora asked softly.

  “Sure.”

  He continued hanging ornaments. At the bottom of the decorations, he found three more wooden boxes but he couldn’t bring himself to open them, read the inscriptions or to hang them on the tree. “I’m gonna take these empty boxes out to the Bronco.”

  Without wasting time, he hurried outside and put them in the back of the truck. When he returned inside, Nora sat on the sofa, feet curled up underneath her as she watched the lights on the tree. By the firelight, she was breathtaking.