Cold Case Secrets

by Maggie K. Black

  “Cover for me!” her dad said. “Cover for me, kiddo, and I’ll cover for you.”

  “No, not this time.” She patted him down quickly and when she didn’t find another weapon, left him there, bleeding on the ground, and ran toward the detective. “Jacob!”

  “Grace!” Jacob reached her side. He dropped to the ground beside her. “Are you okay? What happened?”

  No, she wasn’t okay. The way her heart was aching, she suspected she might never be okay again. Jacob’s hand brushed her shoulder, and somehow the simple gesture filled her with more warmth than hugs from a hundred other men ever could. And suddenly her heart knew. She was falling in love with this man.

  And I have to tell him the truth about who I am, Lord. No matter the cost, he has to know.

  “Jacob,” she said. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you sooner. Hal Turner is my biological father.”

  TWELVE

  Hal Turner, the cop killer and dirty cop, the man who spread lies about the police force to cover his own hide, the escaped convict who now lay spluttering, swearing and bleeding from a gunshot on the ground a few feet away from them, was Grace’s father? No, it just...

  It was true. He looked from the old criminal’s face to the strong woman standing in front of him and felt the unanswered questions in his mind start to click into place. Turner was still shouting and swearing, urging him not to listen to her. Jacob tuned him out. A dull ache spread through him, as if his heart had gone cold and was freezing the blood in his veins.

  Grace was Turner’s daughter. Turner was Grace’s father.

  “He’s the one who was in the cabin last night,” she said. “I’m positive. There’s a pretty bad cut on the side of his head where I hit him with the flashlight. I’m guessing he didn’t pull a gun on me in the woods to keep me from realizing it had been him.”

  Jacob felt his mouth open. But his throat was so dry he couldn’t make a sound.

  How could this happen? How could she hide this from him?

  How could the first woman who’d ever tugged on his heart be the daughter of a cop killer and a dirty cop?

  Who might’ve killed his sister.

  “You’re the first person I’ve ever told,” she said. “You’re the first person I’ve trusted enough to tell. He ignored me for most of my young life and wouldn’t admit I was his daughter, so I felt too embarrassed to tell anyone. Then when he went to jail, it was easier to pretend he hadn’t existed. Then a few years ago, he contacted me out of the blue and started blackmailing me about my identity for money.”

  She said the words simply and directly, without excuse or embellishment. Her eyes searched his face with a look that asked for nothing more than to be heard. And he believed her. With every painful beat of his heart, Jacob knew she was telling the truth.

  “I got a letter from him saying that he’d left proof of his innocence in the cabin and that if I published it, he’d keep my secret,” she said. “So I came. It was a really stupid thing to do. But I was scared he’d tell everyone who I was and it would ruin my life. I had no idea about the prison break. Everything I’ve told you about last night and this morning was true. I just left out that the dirty cop and cop killer...”

  “Was your father.” Jacob found his voice. “Because...”

  “Because I knew once I told you, you’d look at me the way you’re looking at me now,” she said. “Because I’d kept the secret for so long I didn’t know how to tell someone. I just hope you can forgive me.”

  He bristled. Of course he could forgive her. But gone was any hope for friendship. Or coffee. Gone too was the way he’d felt building in his chest when he’d heard she’d gone and he’d leaped in a cop car to speed after her, and that unusual way she’d made his heart beat.

  It was all gone. It had to be.

  He strode toward Turner, pulled his gun and aimed it between the man’s eyes. “Did you kill my sister?”

  “No!” Turner’s face paled. “I didn’t.”

  “Where did you get the locket from? Why did you plant it in the cabin?”

  “The Elders sent it to me! The Elders made me do it! The Elders framed me for everything.”

  Sirens filled the air again now. Thank You, God... Jacob started, but somehow the prayer seemed to catch in his chest.

  “Stop lying!” Grace looked down at Turner. “Dad! Please! There’s no such thing as The Elders is there? I can spend my entire life searching for it, and I’ll never find any proof!”

  Jacob glanced back. Two cop cars pulled up behind him. Voices shouted. Backup was coming.

  “The Elders are real and they’re coming for us!” Turner shouted. “You tell them I confessed, okay? You tell them I told you that I did it. I did all of it. I confess. I killed your sister. Accidentally. It was a long time ago. They helped me cover it up, and that’s how they caught me in their web. The Elders started using me for little jobs and then they framed me for bigger crimes. But now, I’m confessing everything. I’ll confess to all of it. I’m sorry. I killed the girl!”

  Jacob glanced back. Cops were coming through the woods towards them. Some he’d worked with and others he recognized. Was Turner really claiming that some of them were The Elders? Or that one of those cops now flooding the scene would pass a message onto a secret group of dirty cops? No, it wasn’t possible. Jacob didn’t believe it any more than he believed any of Turner’s other lies. The Elders were a myth. They were a conspiracy Turner created to cover up his crimes.

  Two men in uniform flanked them on either side and one of them called for a stretcher.

  “Stop it!” Grace’s voice rose, and it took Jacob a moment to realize she was talking to Turner. “Stop lying! The Elders don’t exist. You didn’t kill Jacob’s sister.”

  “There’s a vehicle hidden under a tarp in a storage unit an hour outside Huntsville,” Turner shouted. “I can give you the address and door lock combination. When investigator’s look inside, they’ll find a car with both my DNA and the girl’s DNA in it.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Grace asked. “Why are you confessing to a crime you didn’t commit? What could you possibly think you’d get out of this?”

  “It’s the only way!” Turner said. “The Elders broke me out of jail once. They can do it again! I just need to confess the truth.”

  No, no. None of this made any sense. None of this was true.

  Other cops were stepping between them and Turner now. Warren started reading Turner his rights. Slowly, Jacob slid his gun back into his holster and stood. He stumbled forward through the trees. That feeling of being underwater he’d felt before swept so deep around him it was like he was sleepwalking. He had a confession. Finally, after all this time, someone had confessed to killing Faith. And it all fit.

  Then why didn’t it feel right?

  He hadn’t even realized Grace had followed him until he heard her speak his name. “Jacob, I’m sorry.”

  He turned back. Somehow he’d walked a few paces away from the cops and was now far enough away that they wouldn’t be overheard. And there she was, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life was standing in front of him and it was like something inside his heart was repelling her, pushing her back like an invisible magnetic force, until no matter how close she stood, they’d never really touch.

  “Do you think your father really killed my sister?” he asked.

  “No, I don’t.” Her head shook. Tears poured down her cheeks. “I mean, I can’t. I can’t believe he’d ever do something like that. But I know he just confessed. And if he’s right about the car...”

  He shrugged, and her words trailed off. A criminal was claiming there was concrete evidence. Detectives could check it out. And if it was really all there as Turner said, he would be charged with Faith’s murder, and add a third life sentence to the two he was already serving. Did Turner think he had something
to gain by confessing? Or the fact he’d broken out of prison once make him think he’d do it again?

  “There’s a break between the wedding and reception tomorrow,” Jacob said. His shoulders rolled back. His jaw set. “Trent and Chloe wanted some quiet family time together, with just the Henrys, before the party. I’ll tell my family then. I’ll wait until after Trent gets married, then I’ll tell him before he and Chloe leave for their honeymoon. Oh, before I forget, I got your wallet back from Cutter.”

  He reached into his pocket, pulled her wallet out and handed it to her. Their fingers brushed.

  “Jacob, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” she said. She stuffed her wallet into her jacket. “I really am. I wish I’d told you. I just didn’t know how. You’re the first person I’ve ever told. The first person I’ve ever wanted to tell. But I was embarrassed, because I really liked you and admired you, and didn’t want you to think less of me. And I’m so very, very sorry.”

  “I’m sorry too,” he said. His heart was hurting so badly now he’d have almost wondered if it was physically breaking, splintering and tearing itself apart. “Because I really liked you too! Like a lot. More than I’ve ever liked anyone. I thought you were smart, and funny, and beautiful, and kind, and interesting, and I really liked the idea of getting coffee with. I liked the idea of kissing you again. But you didn’t trust me. And now I can’t trust you. And the whole situation is rotten and I wish none of this had ever happened. I wish... I wish Warren had jumped out of that helicopter to rescue you, not me.”

  A sob slipped her lips, even as her hand rose to block it. Tears slid from the corner of her eyes. But still her chin rose and her shoulders squared. She wasn’t cowering. She wasn’t backing down. And somehow seeing that cranked the pain in his chest up so high he couldn’t even breathe without gasping.

  “I don’t,” she said. “I’m glad it was you and not Warren. Because even if you never look at me or speak to me again, I’m always going to be thankful for every single moment we spent together, even the ones where we were drowning and getting shot at. My life is better, I’m better, because I had twenty-four hours with you.”

  So was he. He didn’t know why or how. He just knew he was too.

  Suddenly his hand reached for her face; his fingers brushed along her cheek, feeling her tears pool into his palm.

  Why, Lord? Why is the first woman I’ve felt this way about the one I can’t be with? Someone who hid the truth and who hurt me. Someone I can’t trust.

  One of her hands slid up around his neck and rested there at the nape.

  “Goodbye, Jacob,” she whispered.

  “Goodbye, Grace.”

  Their lips met. He didn’t know or care which one of them had kissed the other first. All he knew is that he was kissing Grace Finch, and that he’d never regret having done so, even as he said goodbye to her forever. Then they pulled apart and she walked away.

  * * *

  Saturday morning sunlight streamed through the top floor windows of the Torchlight News townhouse in downtown Toronto. Grace sat alone in the editorial office, leaning forward on her desk and staring at the email from Warren letting her know that yes, authorities had found a car matching the description Turner had given them in the exact location he’d provided. She was thankful the detective had chosen to keep her in the loop, even though she suspected that he was still hoping she’d eventually agree to go out for coffee with him. The words swam before her eyes. Forensics had found traces of blood. They were testing it now.

  And if they’re a match, what does that mean? That my father really did kill Jacob’s sister?

  It had been a little less than a day since she’d kissed Jacob goodbye and walked away from him. She’d stood back at a distance and watched as Warren arrested her father, and then he was taken away by a paramedic. A friendly and older cop had then appeared by her shoulder and taken her statement. When she told them she wanted to speak to a lawyer before being questioned further, they offered to help her arrange a tow truck for her car. But despite the impressive dent to the side, her vehicle had turned out to be drivable. She suspected the fact that everything had gone so smoothly was because Jacob had said something to someone on her behalf. But he hadn’t spoken to her or even looked her way ever since saying goodbye.

  She dropped her head into her hands.

  Why do I care so much, Lord? Why did this one man get under my skin this way?

  Especially when there were so many more important things to worry about.

  There was a creak on the stairs. Her head jerked up. Torchlight News’s managing editor, Olivia Ash, stepped into the newsroom, clad in simple jean shorts and a T-shirt, with her long red hair swooped up in a stylish knot at the back of her neck. Grace leaped to her feet.

  “Sorry to disturb you!” Olivia held up a hand. “I didn’t think anyone would be here. My husband called and asked if I’d pick up a spare camera battery on my way to the wedding. Daniel’s camera died during one of the employees’ weddings a couple of years back, and since then he has been paying extra close attention to battery life.”

  “Right, your sister is getting married today,” Grace said. She knew that. Along with the fact that as today was Saturday, she didn’t really have a good excuse for why she was in the office. Except that she didn’t want to be home. She didn’t really want to be anywhere. “Your hair looks great, by the way.”

  “Thanks.” Olivia raised her hand as if to touch it and then caught herself. “Chloe, the bridesmaids and I just got our hair and makeup done, then we’re changing into our dresses up at the Shield Estate. It’s a huge place near Huntsville, with stables, a pond and a small airfield. I think six weddings will be going on tomorrow in various parts of the buildings and on the grounds.”

  “Well, I hope you have a wonderful day,” Grace said. “The weather is definitely gorgeous. Not a cloud in the sky.”

  She sat down back at the desk and turned her chair toward the monitor, not really reading any of the words on the screen.

  For a moment, Olivia hesitated. Then she pulled a chair out from another desk, rolled it over to Grace and sat. “Do you want to talk?”

  Yes. But that’s hardly fair to ask.

  “You have a wedding to get to.” Grace shook her head. “Your sister is getting married. You’re the maid of honor. You’ve got your husband, and your daughter, and an entire wedding to worry about.”

  “Abigail is with Daniel and my parents,” Olivia said. She smiled. “Daniel runs an elite private security firm and can definitely handle a preschooler. My sister, Chloe, has organized full-scale emergency rescue team operations to infiltrate organized crime. Trent, the groom, is a detective. His two younger brothers, and groomsmen, Nick and Max, are military and paramedic. And as you know, his best man, Jacob, is a detective. The wedding party and guests combined probably have enough tactical power to evacuate a small country. So, I’m sure my arriving ten minutes later than expected isn’t going to cause a major disaster.”

  Grace laughed and was happy for the break from the tension in her heart. She’d forgotten sometimes at what a power couple Olivia and her husband were. Both were a force to be reckoned with in their own right. But in a way that seemed to make them both shine. She wondered if it had always been as easy as they made it look.

  “Thank you,” Grace said, not really knowing what else to say. “I really don’t like asking for help. I don’t even know how to do it right. And I know I shouldn’t even be here on a Saturday. But I couldn’t sleep and my apartment just felt too small.”

  “I spoke with our lawyer last night after you and I got off the phone,” Olivia said. “She’s on deck to go with you for police questioning on Monday. I believe she arranged it with the local precinct for three. We can make a time on Monday to go over anything you want to go over. Also, I’m happy to go with you to the police station as well if that helps.”

 
; “Thank you.” Grace rubbed her fingers against her temples. “I need to tell you something, and I’m really worried about what’s going to happen when I do.”

  Olivia nodded. “Okay, I’m listening.”

  “Hal Turner is my biological father,” Grace said.

  Somehow saying it for the second time was easier than the first.

  Olivia nodded. “Thank you for telling me. I’m sorry for how hard things must’ve been. I can’t imagine the weight on your heart right now.”

  Okay, Olivia hadn’t so much as raised an eyebrow, let alone leaped to her feet in shock. She knew? But how? Grace’s heart began to race. Grace hadn’t told her. If she had, she’d have remembered. “You don’t look surprised. Why don’t you look surprised?”

  “Don’t worry.” Olivia leaned forward. Her hand brushed Grace’s arm. “It’s going to be okay. Your life and how you handle it is your business, and I’ve got your back. You remember Vince, obviously, the old managing editor who hired us both? He covered a lot of crime scenes as a reporter over the years. Took a lot of notes. Took a lot of pictures. A few years back, when he was diagnosed with cancer, I was helping him sort through his life’s work in preparation for retirement, and I came across some picture from the day Hal Turner was arrested. He’d managed to snap a couple of pictures of a teenage girl and made a note that a waitress said her name was Grace.”

  Grace’s words to Jacob filled her mind, how journalists know more than they report.

  “Vince saw me looking at them,” Olivia went on. “He told me a wise pastor of his had told him once that when it came to other people’s lives, Believe nothing you hear and only half of what you see and that we didn’t traffic in gossip. Ever. He said people had the right to tell their own truths on their own terms, when they’re ready without being pushed. Then he put the pictures through the shredder.”

  Thankfulness swelled in Grace’s heart. The words she’d spoken to Jacob yesterday filtered through her mind. We don’t ever report anything without proper verification, and in some cases authorization. But that doesn’t mean we don’t know an awful lot more than we let on. And yeah, she hadn’t been ready to let that be known before. She might not even be ready now.