“Turner has been threatening for years to tell the world I’m his daughter.” Sudden tears filled her eyes. “What do I do if he does?”
“I don’t know,” Olivia said. “But whatever you decide, we’re here for you. I know an amazing therapist who might be able to help you sort through it. I can set up an appointment for you. Think of it as having one person you can be totally honest with, about everything.”
“Thank you,” Grace said again. “I’ve started praying again. And I haven’t for years. I’m not sure what to make of it. Also, I think I’m falling pretty hard for an incredible man who won’t even look at me.”
“It’s going to be okay,” Olivia said. “I don’t know exactly how or when it’s all going to work out. But you’re strong, you’re a great reporter, you have a good heart and, however you choose to handle this, you’re not alone.”
Olivia stood, Grace did too and the two women hugged for a long moment.
“I’ve got to go,” Olivia said. “I won’t have my phone on during the wedding and reception, obviously. Trent and Chloe requested a phone-free wedding and reception and asked everyone to let their work know they won’t be reachable for a few hours and to set up a network of emergency contacts to take their place. And considering pretty much everyone there spends 24/7 tied to their phones, it seemed like a pretty reasonable request.” She laughed. “Honestly, I think for some, agreeing to go off the grid for a few hours like that was the biggest wedding present they could give.”
Yeah, Grace could see that.
“But if you leave me a message, I’ll call you back after church tomorrow. And if you want to spend more time talking on Monday, we can do that,” Olivia said.
“Thank you,” Grace said, wondering just how many times she’d end up repeating those two words before life fell back into something that felt close to normal. Her phone buzzed. She glanced down. Her mother was calling. She put it through to voice mail and sent a quick text saying she’d call her back in five. “I’ve got to go and so do you. I’ll see you Monday.”
Olivia nodded. “You going to be okay?”
“I think so.” Grace nodded. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“In my experience,” Olivia said, “as someone who knows what it’s like to have your life turned upside down, do your job, be you, focus on what you’re good at and the person you were made to be. Also, don’t stop praying.”
Grace’s phone buzzed again. Her mother had texted her back. She said goodbye to Olivia, then waited until she heard her walk down the stairs and out the front door before calling her mom back.
Her mother picked up on the first ring. “Hey, Gracey.”
“Hey, Mom.” Grace dropped back into her chair and turned to the screen.
“I’m sorry I didn’t call you back sooner.” Her mom sounded tired, but good. “I just got off a twelve-hour ER shift.”
It never ceased to amaze Grace that her mother and Frank, both nearing sixty, still put in long shifts as trauma nurses. Grace had put a quick call in to her at the nurse’s station the night before, just long enough to hear her mother’s voice and tell her that she was home, safe and okay.
Now it was time for the harder conversation. She jiggled her mouse and her computer screen came to life again. “I told you I saw Hal Turner yesterday. Before he was arrested...”
“He called me,” her mother said, in that specific, direct, perfunctory tone that only seemed to come out when she was discussing Turner and terminal illnesses. “Last night, from prison. He left me a message.”
Grace dropped the mouse. “Why you?”
“He said he wanted to get a message to you and figured I might pick up and you wouldn’t.” She yawned. “He told me to tell you that you and he were good. But not to touch the money in the bank account because he’d be needing it in future. Apparently, a friend of his has a place in the Caribbean.”
And he thinks he’s just going to break out of prison again one day and make his way there?
Grace gritted her teeth and whispered a prayer to fight back the urge to say something bad. After everything that had happened, he still only cared about money. Accessing his hidden online bank account was the very last thing she cared about.
“How can you forgive him?” Grace asked. “After everything he’s done, after everything he’s put you through, how can you possibly forgive him?”
“I don’t know,” her mother said. “With God’s help? By God’s grace? There’s a reason I named you as I did. Because you were this amazing, incredible gift God had given to me. Forgiveness is a process. You forgive the best you know how, then you forgive again and again whenever the pain pops up in your heart.”
Yeah, she’d heard her mom say that several times before. But somehow now the words rang deeper than they ever had before.
“What are you and Frank going to do if people find out Hal Turner is my biological father?” Grace asked.
“The same as we’ve always done for over thirty-five years,” her mother said. “Love each other, love God and love you the best we know how, one day at a time.”
Yeah, that sounded like her mother.
Lord, how do I have faith like her? How do I get there? How do I build up my heart and my life to be as strong a woman as she is? She got over Turner’s betrayal well enough to build an amazing marriage with a wonderful man like Frank. They faced the whispers and the shame of gossip together, and no matter what, they’re going to be okay. How do I ever become like her?
“He confessed to strangling a twelve-year-old girl,” Grace said. “When I was about the same age. He led police to evidence in a car. He’s going to get a third life sentence for her murder.”
“He did what?” Her mother’s voice rose.
“He confessed to strangling a child with his bare hands. When I was twelve.”
“And how much was he paid to take credit for that?” Her mother snorted derisively. “Because if he’s telling a lie that big, there’ll be a money trail.”
“A lie?”
“A big, huge, ugly lie,” her mother confirmed. “He’s conning the police, Grace! Yet another con on top of all his other cons. I don’t know why he’s doing it. But taking credit for killing someone you didn’t kill is evil. What a cruel thing to do to that girl’s family.”
Grace sat back against her seat so hard she felt like someone had physically jabbed her in the solar plexus, knocking the air from her lungs. Turner’s confession had been a con? Jacob was about to call a family meeting, at his brother’s wedding, to tell them yet another false story full of lies her father had concocted.
The cruelty of that overwhelmed her.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.” Righteous anger pulsed through her mom’s words, like she was about to take a whole room full of people to church. “Grace, now, Hal Turner has his faults. He’s not a good man. But he didn’t strangle anyone when you were twelve. Or thirteen. Or now.” She sighed. “Even if I thought he had it in him. He doesn’t have the grip strength. He was stabbed, badly, in a stupid fight with some of his drug contacts when you were about eleven and it caused serious nerve damage. He couldn’t hold anything properly in his right hand for years. He couldn’t crumple a coffee cup, let alone apply enough force to kill anyone.”
Olivia had just reminded her to do what she did best. Well, she was a journalist. What she did best was looking for facts. Grace’s hands flew over the keyboard. She felt her voice shift from daughter to reporter. “How do you know this?”
“He came to my hospital looking for treatment,” her mom said. “He needed stitches and tried to talk me into giving him pain medication. He kept coming back before he was arrested, hoping Frank or I could do something for him under the table.”
Of course he had. After everything Turner had put her mother through, of course, he’d still gone to her for h
elp.
“Will there be medical records?” Grace asked. The banking screen opened. She typed her password in and waited. The page loading icon swirled. “Something that someone could subpoena to prove he’s lying?”
“Maybe,” her mother said. “X-rays could still show the damage. But if he’s pleading guilty, investigators might not be all that interested in digging into twenty-five-year-old medical records.”
The bank page loaded, and the joint account came into view. Grace let out a long breath as the numbers appeared on the screen. Maybe medical records from a quarter of a century ago wouldn’t interest them. But bank records from less than twenty-four hours ago would.
“Someone just deposited fifty thousand dollars into his secret bank account,” Grace said. She clicked the deposit. The sender’s name was anonymous. There was a message attached to the transfer: Don’t touch, kiddo! See you soon!
“Somebody paid him to take credit for Faith Henry’s murder,” Grace said. “By the look of things, he’s expecting whomever it is will break him out again so he can spend it.”
And she had to warn Jacob.
THIRTEEN
Jacob’s phone buzzed in the pocket of his bright red RCMP dress jacket. His hand shot down into his pocket, hoping to catch it before it could fully ring. He cast a quick glance around the upper floor room in the beautiful estate. Members of the groom’s side of the wedding party wandered around the room in twos and threes, waiting to head down through a maze of hallways and walkways to the huge refurbished barn where the wedding itself was being held. Thankfully no one had seemed to notice his phone chirp. Jacob reached into his pocket, pulled it out and glanced at the name on the screen. Grace. Again. In the past hour and a half, he’d received about eight texts from the tenacious reporter telling him to call her and about six missed calls. He hadn’t called her back once.
A swift hand grabbed his wrist before he could slide his hand back.
“Don’t let Trent catch you with that.” His brother Nick’s voice was low in his ear. Jacob turned. The youngest of the four Henry brothers was standing beside him with a not-unimpressive grip on Jacob’s one good arm. At least Jacob’s other arm was out of the sling now, bandaged up and usable enough that he’d even been able to ride his motorcycle to the wedding. Unfortunately, his little brother was frowning. And it took a whole lot to make the perpetually upbeat family joker lose his casual grin. Twenty-five years old and a corporal in the Canadian military, Nick had recently reunited with his high school sweetheart and become a father to the son he never knew he had. If Jacob were honest, there was something almost sobering about seeing someone he’d felt responsible for all his life grow up so fast.
“I’m only checking it.” Jacob bristled. “I’m not calling her back.”
“You shouldn’t have it on you at all,” Nick said. He dropped his hand from his brother’s arm, and then crossed his arms over his chest. “We all agreed to lock our phones in our cars or leave them at home.”
“I rode my bike here,” Jacob said, sliding his phone back into his pocket. Nick didn’t crack a smile. “What’s going on?”
Nick gestured him over to the farthest corner of the room, and Jacob had the unsettling feeling that his little brother, the one who he’d babysat and bottle fed, taught to walk and ride a bike, was about to give him a talking to. Or try to, anyway.
“Look,” Jacob said, before Nick could get a word in edgewise. “I know I promised I wouldn’t have my phone. I’ll put it away and I won’t look it again.”
Had Nick forgotten which one of them was fifteen years older than the other? He felt his shoulders straighten and remembered what Grace had said about how he unfolded himself sometimes to look larger. She hadn’t been wrong. He just hadn’t ever been called out on it before.
“Who’s Grace?” Nick asked. “Sorry, I couldn’t help but see her name on the screen.”
Oh, no, his little brother was not questioning him about her!
A dazzling, incredible, deep, thoughtful and beautiful woman I almost fell in love with before I stopped myself.
“Nobody,” Jacob said. “She’s the reporter I rescued.”
But Nick acted like he hadn’t even heard the words Jacob had said, but had been listening to something else entirely. “If she’s so important, why isn’t she here?”
“Because Grace is not that important,” Jacob said.
She could’ve been. But she’s not.
“Baloney!” Nick said. “Tell that to the look on your face! She’s called you how many times?”
“And I haven’t called her back.”
“Right.” Nick’s arms crossed, yet something Jacob could only describe as caring floated in his eyes. “But you can’t stop checking your phone. You can’t even say her name without going red.”
Trent had accused him of that too once. Jacob shook his head. Was this how he’d sounded every time he’d pulled one of his brothers aside for a talk? Loving but infuriatingly hard to shake?
“What is going on with you?” Jacob asked. “Our brother is getting married in less than twenty minutes.”
“I know,” Nick said. “But something’s up with you. You can’t stop checking your phone. You’re distracted. You told us all we need to have a family meeting before Trent and Chloe leave on their honeymoon. You’re my brother. I love you. I want to make sure you’re okay and I don’t want it impacting today.”
No, he wasn’t okay. Before he’d reached the wedding venue, he’d gotten the news that Turner’s tip-off about the car had been correct. The responsibility of that news, Turner’s confession and the fact that he’d found Faith’s locket and it was now with forensics was weighing heavily on his shoulders, and how he was going to break the news to his family later.
“Don’t worry about it,” Jacob said. “I’m your big brother. I’ve got it covered.”
“Yeah, no,” Nick said. “You know full well that if Trent, Max or I were in trouble, you’d be the first one rallying the troops to do whatever it took to make sure we were okay. We’re there for each other, thick or thin, that’s who we are. There are no big brothers and little brothers in this family anymore. There are just brothers—and sisters-in-law, and parents, and nephews, and probably one day nieces too.” A grin crossed his face. “You did a really great job leading us for a long time, bro. You saved all of us more than once. But we don’t need you to head the team. Not anymore. We’ve got your back and we’re all in this together.”
“It’s time!” their brother Max shouted from the other side of the room. “Let’s go get Trent married.”
Jacob glanced at Nick, feeling he should say something but not sure what. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” Nick clasped him on the back. “And after the wedding, you’re telling me about Grace, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
Jacob wished that was all he had to tell Nick about after the wedding. But he set a smile on his face and followed Trent, Max, Nick and his parents through the beautiful old estate and then a tunnel, across a covered walkway and into a huge stone barn. He waited while his father and mother went up the aisle together. Then the four brothers walked to the front of the church, single file. Two hundred wedding guests lined the barn on either side. Flowers spilled from every corner and dazzling lights draped from the ceiling. The Trillium College band sat up front to the side, along with several college students Trent and Chloe had met when he’d gone undercover as their hockey coach. The ensemble was playing a beautiful instrumental piece Jacob slowly began to realize was the Hockey Night in Canada theme.
He grinned at Trent. His brother chuckled.
The four Henry brothers stood at the center of the barn, in front of the pastor of their family church. The music changed to the “Wedding March” and he looked up as first Nick’s wife, Erica, then Max’s wife, Daisy, and then Chloe’s sister, Olivia, walked single file down th
e aisle in flowing dresses of various shades of blue. Then finally, Chloe herself came down the aisle in a flowing white gown trimmed with blue trailing flowers and a navy cape the same shade as her Ontario Provincial Police uniform.
Jacob’s heart swelled. Thank You, Lord, for today. Thank You that You brought Trent and Chloe together. Thank You for all the awesome things You’ve done in my family’s life.
Trent reached out and took both of Chloe’s hands in his. The pastor began the ceremony. Jacob stood at the front and listened to the comforting Bible verses and familiar words as they flowed over him. Nick’s words floated at the back of his mind. The weight of the news about Faith sat heavy on his heart.
My brother is getting married, Lord. My sister’s killer has been caught. For so many years, my entire life has been about taking care of my brothers and catching my sister’s killer. Now that those doors are closing, who am I now? What am I living for? Who am I about to become? What do I do with my life?
A flicker of yellow at the back of the church made him glance up. Grace stepped through the back door of the church, in a simple knee-length dress the color of sunlight and her hair tied back at her neck.
What is she doing here?
She looked up. Her eyes met his. And suddenly he felt everything else, the wedding, the pastor’s words and the crowd around him melt away.
And his heart knew without a doubt what it wanted to do. He wanted to run down the aisle, take Grace in his arms and tell her he was sorry for what he’d said yesterday. He wanted to admit that he liked her. No, more than that, he wanted to admit he was falling in love with her. He wanted to ask her out for a coffee today, and tomorrow, and the next day, until they’re entire lives were a tapestry of moments spent together.
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