by Laura Scott
* * *
Colt’s ankle throbbed and burned as they made their way to Gerald and Karen Wilcox’s house. They’d called about an hour ago and asked Amber to be present as well. He inwardly winced at the discomfort, but the upside was his shoulder didn’t hurt as much now that the pain was concentrated to his leg. The doc had offered him the good stuff, but he needed all his faculties and had declined it for prescription-strength ibuprofen.
An hour ago, he’d picked it up along with the prescribed antibiotic cream and bandages. The nurse had showed him how to treat the wounds and insisted he keep them clean and freshly wrapped, which he would, but it irritated him. He didn’t have time to stop and keep wounds cleaned when a killer was on the loose.
The hours ticked by, making for a long, exhausting day. Reports, interviews about the fire had ensued. A deputy had discovered a plastic gasoline can at the edge of the tree line, and they’d sent it off for prints. No one had been found in the woods, and no other traces of evidence had been obtained.
By nine they’d settled in at the Sunflower Café for breakfast. News had traveled fast, and patrons came in droves to the table, bringing condolences and offers to help keep Georgia safe, as if Colt and his team weren’t enough. Maybe he wasn’t.
His old man would be the first to say it. Georgia’s words about forgiveness being a thing had been quietly rolling around in his chest. Had he forgiven Dad? No. Did he deserve it? No. Talk had made its way through the town and folks were searching out Georgia, but Dad hadn’t been among them. Hadn’t called to check on him. Nothing. He didn’t seem to care if Colt lived or died, so why even offer him an out for his years of cruelty?
The answer puddled in his gut. Because forgiveness wasn’t for the offender. It was for the offended.
With God’s help he could do anything. All things were possible. But did he want to forgive Dad? Not particularly. Even when he knew deep down it would lift a huge weight from his shoulders. His head battled his heart, reminding him of all the trauma inflicted—the hurtful words and the knocks to the head. They played on repeat, calling out all Colt’s failures and defeats.
If he forgave him, Colt might not be controlled by his father’s words anymore. That was not the voice he wanted in his head, but it was always there. Taunting. He wanted his heavenly Father’s voice. What God thought about him mattered most.
But did God think he was doing a good job?
Shaking out of the battle, he tried to ignore the excruciating burn in his leg. As they pulled into Gerald and Karen’s drive, he glanced at Georgia.
This was going to be another tough conversation, but if the SD card was around, they needed all hands on deck to find it.
“Georgia,” he said before they walked up to the front porch, “you haven’t said much, but I know you’re feeling anxious. Afraid. Weak. Even uncertain about the future, but I want you to know that I think you’re the bravest woman I’ve ever known. Your house is in a heap of ashes, and here you are fighting for others and for truth, which kinda sounds comic-book heroic as I hear it coming from my mouth, but it doesn’t make it less true.”
Georgia paused on the first step of the porch. “I feel like I’m hanging on by a thread. I like to believe that thread is Jesus’s strength, or it’s going to snap and I’ll free fall forever.”
They didn’t have time to talk this out at the moment, but they would later. “Jesus won’t let you fall...and neither will I. Please don’t blame yourself for my getting hurt. I’d do it again, you know. Run into a burning building or take a bullet. You need to know that.”
She didn’t seem to find any solace in those words.
“No,” she murmured, “I don’t need to know that.”
“What do—”
Gerald opened the front door. “Come in, you two. Mercy.” He studied Colt’s crutches and bandaged foot along with the few abrasions on Georgia’s forehead and hands. “Y’all look like you should, I guess. I’m so sorry to hear about your house, Georgia.”
He welcomed them into the kitchen, where Amber and Karen sat at the farm table with steaming cups of tea, but the hint of coffee reached Colt’s nose. Karen offered them each a choice of drink. Colt accepted coffee, and Georgia declined anything. He’d read anxiety cut appetites; she’d picked at her breakfast.
“Cut to the chase, Colt,” Gerald said after everyone was seated.
“All right.” He relayed the new developments in the case tying Chance and Scott Hazer to Jared through the pictures at the Magnolia Motel and their meeting at Rascal’s. “Which brings me to Alice Parker.”
“Alice?” Karen asked. “Why Alice?”
Colt explained Chance’s story and that Alice hadn’t mentioned seeing Jared that night in her statement. “Why wouldn’t she come forward with that pertinent information?”
“Maybe she forgot?” Gerald offered weakly. “She worked from eight to five, five days a week, for me and Friday and Saturday nights at Rascal’s. To say she was tired is an understatement. I can’t see her purposely withholding information. Why?”
Karen set her teacup on the saucer with shaky fingers. “Alice is a good person and a friend. She must have a good reason. It did somehow slip her mind or Chance Leeway is lying.”
Possibly. “We’ll know more after we speak with her. But first we have a favor to ask of y’all.”
“Anything,” Gerald said and reached for Karen’s hand.
“We need to go through Jared’s things that you might have boxed up.” He explained that the SD card was missing. “We need to see those photos. See who Scott was dealing drugs to. Could it have been Alice?”
Gerald and Karen both laughed. “Hardly,” Gerald said. “I’d know if one of my office employees was on drugs. Alice was not a druggie.”
“What about her son?” Georgia asked. “Wade?”
Gerald’s eyes squinted. “I don’t think so, but I didn’t see him often. He lives in Florida now. Has since he got married.”
They needed to call him. He might not tell the truth, but if he had been a teenager who dabbled in pot and then straightened up as he matured, he might be willing to come clean.
“Amber, he would have been in your grade. What do you think?” She sat ramrod straight, face pale and eyes wide. Did she know something she wasn’t divulging? That was Colt’s gut reaction the first time they’d spoken. But this was her brother. She should want to cooperate.
“I didn’t know him well. I never heard any rumors about him using.”
But? She was holding back, fidgeting in her chair.
“Can we poke around in anything left of Jared’s?” Georgia asked. “It’s a long shot, but we might find something.”
Karen stood. “Of course. All of his things are in boxes and labeled in the attic. I didn’t let go of anything except his clothing to a boys’ home. I don’t remember finding any little SD cards, though.”
If he’d hidden it, she may not have. Could be in a book, a baseball glove...anywhere. It might be a lost cause, but they had to try.
They followed Karen upstairs into the attic. Not too hot for fall. They could have been doing this during the summer months and melted. “I’ll help,” Karen offered.
“Me too,” Gerald said. “More hands, the faster the work.”
Amber said nothing, only crept off in the corner.
They combed through boxes for over an hour, reminiscing through laughter and tears, sharing Jared stories as articles that belonged to him ignited memories.
Colt’s cell phone rang and drew him from his deep thoughts. He answered.
“Hey, Colt. It’s Marcy from the Jackson lab. I got a hit on that print. Sorry it took so long.”
“You did?” Hope bloomed in his chest, and he covered the receiver and spoke to Georgia. “Marcy at the Mississippi forensics lab. Prints on Jared’s watch popped.”
Everyone went
on full alert. This could be a huge break.
“Who does it belong to?” he asked Marcy.
“An Alice Parker. Familiar?”
His gut roiled. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“Well?” Georgia asked and Karen, Gerald and Amber took a collective step forward.
He shouldn’t say it to the family. Her fingerprint didn’t prove her guilt. But given she’d worked at Rascal’s and Gerald and Karen were adamant she had nothing to do with drugs or Jared... “Alice Parker.”
Karen clamped her hand over her mouth, and Gerald stood stupefied, the blood leaching from his cheeks. Amber gasped.
“I don’t understand,” Karen said in a wobbly voice.
“There must be an explanation,” Gerald demanded.
This wasn’t a road Colt wanted to travel down, but all avenues needed driven. Jared had been his best friend, full of faith, but he was a teenage boy and Alice Parker had been a looker fifteen years ago. “Could there have been a relationship that would explain her prints on his watch? They’d have to have been fresh, I would imagine. Maybe that night...she was at Rascal’s before he died.”
Gerald’s color returned, bloodred. Colt had crossed a line but it unfortunately needed exploring. “If you are suggesting that my son had an illicit affair with Alice, then you didn’t know him at all.”
“I’m sorry, but I have to cover every angle, even the ugly ones, Gerald. I guess she can explain herself. But we have a direct link between them. We’ll be looking good and hard.” He slid his gaze to Amber, who remained silent. “Now’s the time to tell what needs told if there is anything.”
When no one spoke, he motioned Georgia to follow him down the attic stairs, each step reminding him of the searing wound from the fire. Colt didn’t expect anyone to follow him out or wish him well. He’d just cast a stone at their son.
As they reached his truck, Georgia sighed. “You don’t think Alice Parker and Jared...”
“No. But he was there in the summers. Holiday breaks. Occasional weekdays. Who knows? But bases weren’t covered fifteen years ago and the case went cold. I can’t afford not to cover them now.”
She laid her purse on the floorboard. “I understand. It could be as simple as she reached out and grabbed him because he forgot his jacket. Chance said he laid it on the chair and searched it when Jared went to the restroom.”
“Maybe.” He started the engine. “If Alice had come forward about seeing Jared the night he died, then a simple answer like that would be believable. But she didn’t.”
“If she’s linked at all to Chance or his father, she might have been too afraid to talk. Reggie Leeway is a powerful man.” Georgia situated Colt’s crutches so they wouldn’t fall on her. “You need to rest that leg at some point.”
No time. They were close. He called his team as he backed out of the drive. “Hey, I got news.”
“Us too,” Poppy said. They were on speakerphone as well. “Go first.”
He laid out the new info and where they were headed. “What do you have?”
Rhett spoke up. “I got in touch with Tyler Burgess’s mom, and she admitted that Harry Benard approached her about using the address, but it was Reggie Leeway who called her after Georgia’s attack and told her to respond with ‘no comment’ if she was questioned by anyone. He said she’d be rewarded monetarily. But she said it wasn’t worth it.”
“Harry’s dead. That dog won’t hunt.”
“True. That’s not all, though. We got a call earlier from Carter Wagoner, one of athletes who used the address the year the land was purchased. He said that his dad was out of a job and they were going to lose their house, but then they didn’t. Next thing Carter knows, he’s transferring to Courage High and his dad told him it was for the best and not to ask questions. Guess where the house loan went through?”
“Terry Helms’s bank.”
“And guess what that did?” Poppy asked.
“Got you a warrant for bank records regarding the students’ families who used 4214 Pine Road.”
“Well, you took all the fun out of that,” she huffed.
Rhett cleared his throat, and Colt could imagine him rolling his eyes at Poppy’s dramatics. “We did. With a different judge. We’re on our way there now. If he was falsifying information, we’ll find it. Anything at all to do with 4214 Pine Road is within our scope.”
“Keep me posted.” He hung up.
Georgia grinned. “Terry is involved. And Coach Flanigan—probably Sunny Wilkerson. One of them has been attacking me and probably killed Dandy—but what about Jared?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t seem connected to the athletic department. What if Jared accepted the offer to play for Ole Magnolia without telling his parents? He was eighteen. Then changed his mind and was going to tell the coach the night he died that he was reneging on the deal so he could play for State instead. Maybe the phone call stopped him short. Or maybe he did tell Coach and he conveniently left that part out. Coach could have asked him to meet him later—after the workout. Then killed him. Or he could have told Terry or Sunny, and one of them killed him.”
“Why kill him and bring him back to the training room?”
“Throw the scent off him. Because it makes no sense. But more likely he was moved because the killer didn’t want the location of his murder discovered. It would reveal the killer’s identity.”
They parked along the curb near the courthouse and walked inside. After going through security, they entered the clerk’s office. Alice Parker might have aged fifteen years, but she didn’t look a day over forty-five or-six. Her hair hung at shoulder length, dark and wavy, and her sharp green eyes matched her business suit. She did a double take. “Colt McCoy!” Then she noticed his crutches, and a mother’s concern radiated in her tone and facial expression. “Honey, what on earth happened to you?”
“You hear about Georgia’s house?”
“Yes. I heard after lunch. I’m sorry, hon. That’s awful. Where are you staying? I’m gonna bring you a pie.” Yes, because pie would help, but in crises that’s what folks did. Bring food.
“Thank you. I’m staying at the Magnolia Motel with the cold case unit.”
A flash of disapproval flared in her eyes.
“I’m gonna cut to the chase,” Colt said. “We ran old evidence, and this time we got a hit on prints from Jared’s watch. They’re yours.”
ELEVEN
“Well, that went about as expected,” Georgia said through a frustrated huff as Colt pulled out onto the main highway. Alice had been appalled that they would even think to implicate her in a murder. She’d loved Jared like her own son and would never have harmed him.
“Did you believe her when she said she didn’t remember Jared and Chance being in Rascal’s that night?” Georgia asked.
“Not particularly. Chance was confident she’d back him up. She seemed well versed, but her eyes held unease and quite frankly some hidden truth. I’d like to get my hands on that SD card. Without it I don’t know what comes next.”
And he was leaving in a few weeks. Leaving her alone with his unit was well and good; she trusted them. But they weren’t Colt. That line of thinking was why it was best for him to go and the sooner the better. She already lay awake at night fretting about the next day and what might happen to him.
Georgia’s phone rang. “It’s Amber. I’m gonna put her on speaker.” She hit the green button and answered. “Hey, Amber, what’s up?”
“Hey. I need to talk to you. I wanted to do it at the house, but I couldn’t bring myself to.” Her voice was nasally, as if she’d been crying. “I have to come in to work. Can you meet me at the stables?”
“Yes, of course. What’s this about?”
She sniffed. “I’m sorry. I have the SD card.”
Georgia and Colt shared a shocked exchange with one another. “Did you find it?”
“No. I had it. I apologize for putting y’all through all that worthless searching. I was...I was struggling, but I got to do what’s right.”
“We’re on our way,” Georgia said and hung up. Colt made a U-turn on the highway and headed to the south end of town. Milford’s Stables was on the left before one crossed into Craw County. Amber had worked here since she was sixteen. Now, she managed them.
“Why would Amber have the SD card?” Colt’s brow knit as he gripped the wheel and concentrated on the road. “Do you think this was part of their fighting? If Jared knew she’d taken it somehow...”
Georgia tossed her hands up. “We keep running into more questions than answers. I have no idea what to believe at this point. But if Amber has the SD card, then Alice didn’t take it. And how would Alice even know about it?”
“Scott knew about it. If Alice’s son, Wade, was in the photos with him, Jared could have approached him in an effort to turn Wade from his ways. He was like that. Or Scott told Wade and he told his mom out of fear?”
Alice’s prints on the watch may have been about the SD card and her son. “Or Jared approached Wade and threatened to tell Alice if he didn’t quit dabbling in drugs, or he did tell Alice in an attempt to help him before it got out of hand.”
“That makes Wade Parker a suspect, and he lives in Florida. We need to send someone out there to talk to him.”
The road stretched into miles of pastureland where cattle grazed and horses roamed, eating grass and moseying, not a single worry in the world. Must be nice.
Colt turned on the road that led to the stables. He parked next to Amber’s red Jeep in front of the office. The secretary there told them Amber was in the stables. They entered, the smells of hay and manure whacking Georgia in the face.
Amber stood, petting a horse’s mane.
“Hey,” Georgia said.
Amber wiped her wet lashes. “I’m sorry for everything.”
“We need the truth, Amber.”