Christmas Cover-Up

His anger vibrated between them. He was still furious with Neil. But not with her. Not anymore. He looked at her and felt frustration swamp him when he couldn’t read her expression. “So do you want me to quit looking into your sister’s kidnapping or not?”

Katie bit her lip and glanced at him. “I don’t know, but knowing you don’t hold me responsible for Neil’s death helps.”

“I don’t, but I’ll be honest, my parents do and I’m afraid I’ll never convince them otherwise.”

She flinched and nodded.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You came to us.”

“I know that.”

He thought about all the work he’d already done, the people he’d questioned, the answers that produced more questions. “I can’t do my job without your cooperation. Your sister’s been missing for fourteen years. Do you want me to keep working on trying to find out what happened to her or not?” Trying to find a person missing for the past fourteen years was hard enough, but trying to find one without the cooperation of the one who’d hired him would be impossible.

“Yes. No.” She hissed out a breath and tightened her fingers around the wheel. After she made a left turn, she said, “It’s harder than I thought it would be.”

“Why?”

“Because every time I look at you, I think of Neil. I think of your father in the morgue and his—” She bit her lip and looked away.

His phone rang and he snagged it, deciding to take the call and give her a bit of breathing room. “Hello?”

“Jordan. This is Erica.”

“What can I do for you?”

“Have you had a chance to talk to Katie?” He and Erica had discussed Katie’s reluctance to have him lead the investigation into her sister’s disappearance.

“In the process now.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to rush you. I’m just concerned.”

“I know. I’ll give you an update soon.” He hung up and turned back to Katie. “That was Erica.”

“Why did she assign my case to you?” Katie asked.

“Because I had just finished up with one and had the time to take it.” He paused. “Did you tell her anything about our background?”

Katie shook her head.

“So she didn’t know.” He sighed. “Look. If you don’t want me working it, I’ll tell Erica. But you should know everyone is slammed right now. When Erica finally found Molly after three years and brought her home, those front-page headlines had people coming out of the woodwork. There are so many cold-case disappearances with desperate family members thinking Finding the Lost is their only hope. If you back off of Lucy’s case now, it might be a while before someone else can pick it back up.”

She drove without speaking until they were almost to the station. “I don’t know if I can work with you. You’re a constant reminder that I caused someone’s death. How can you work with me day in and day out and not think about him? Not remember? Not feel some kind of anger toward me?” Her low voice reverberated with pain that echoed his own.

His heart hurt when he thought of his twenty-year-old brother. He’d been dead for a little over a year and the pain still cut sometimes.

Neil, the black sheep. The wild young man just sowing his oats. Neil, lying in the coffin because he’d chosen to drink and drive and then get stuck in a cell with the wrong person. Neil, whose dark secrets, known only to Jordan and the medical examiner, went to the grave with him, leaving Jordan with the burden of what to do with them. Especially the question of whether or not to tell his parents the truth about what really had been going on with Neil. Like his drug problem. “Neil doesn’t have anything to do with me doing my job.”

She pulled into the parking lot of the station and turned off the vehicle. She looked at him. “How can you be objective? Your brother is dead because I arrested him and stuck him in a cell with a crazy person. How can you not blame me, too?”

“For starters, you didn’t know the guy was crazy. And second, my brother is dead because he made some really bad choices. I don’t blame you, I blame Neil and the guy who killed him. Period. Those are the only two who deserve the blame.”

“Like you said, your parents don’t feel that way.”

Jordan closed his eyes, remembering his father’s confrontation of Katie at the morgue. Paul Gray had stared daggers at Katie. “You killed my son!”

Katie had winced and held out a hand. “I’m so sorry this happened. Neil ran a stop sign right in front of me. I pulled him over and he was—”

“You did this. You!” He’d jabbed a finger, stopping millimeters from her chest, cutting off her sorrowful words. “Neil called me. Said he didn’t know why he’d been arrested, that it was a case of mistaken identity. You made a mistake, and an innocent boy died because of it. I hope you can sleep tonight knowing how well you did your duty.” The thick sarcasm cut.

“Sir—”

His father had turned on his heel and marched away, never looking back. And Jordan had just stood there and let the man blast Katie. Then again, he’d wanted to do the same thing. Before he’d learned the truth about everything. That Neil was into drugs, buying, selling and using. And he was in deep.

The pain of that day swept over him once again.

The agony on Katie’s face shook him. “He wasn’t innocent like your parents believe, but Neil shouldn’t have died because of that choice,” she reiterated with a whisper.

“No, he shouldn’t have.” Jordan rubbed a hand down his face. “This is why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“Mostly.”

He nodded. “All right. We’ve gotten this far in talking about it, but we’ll have to finish this conversation later. Let’s go see what our prisoner has to say.”

Katie nodded and climbed from the car.

* * *

Katie stepped into the police station. Jordan nodded to an officer and said, “I want to speak to Kurt over there. His father and mine are friends. I’ll be there in just a minute.”

She nodded and took a right down a long hallway. She stopped in front of a room labeled Interrogation Room #2 and took a deep breath.

Questioning a suspect always gave her an adrenaline rush. Mr. Wesley Wray was no different. She knew Jordan would be watching from the observation window. Katie stepped into the interrogation room and dropped a file on the table in front of Wray. She sat across from him and settled one hand on top of the file. His eyes followed her movement. She asked, “You’ve got quite a history of breaking into places, don’t you?”

His gaze snapped up to meet hers. He narrowed his eyes, leaned back and crossed his arms. “So?”

She shrugged and kept her voice conversationally light. “What do you do when you’re not in jail, Mr. Wray? Do you have a family?”

His brow furrowed. She’d confused him. “Yeah. I got a wife and a kid that live over behind the Beacon.”

The Beacon. One of Spartanburg’s most well-known landmarks. Anyone who came through the city as a tourist stopped to eat there. But one didn’t want to live behind it. It was one of the toughest areas in town, where residents kept their doors locked and their weapons nearby.

“So I want to know, out of all the houses in Spartanburg, what made you pick mine?”

“I told you, Detective, it was empty and looked like an easy hit. I thought I’d be in and out before anyone got home. End of story.”

She leaned in. “Oh, no. I think there’s a lot more to that story than you’re telling, and we’re not going anywhere until I’m satisfied you’ve given me quite a few more details. Why did you ask about my laptop? Is there something on there you’re interested in?”

For a brief second, Wray looked startled, a deer caught in the headlights, then he sneered and leaned forward, the tic alongside his mouth betraying his emotion. “Look, lady—”

“That’s ‘detective.’”

“Detective,” Wray sneered. His face cleared, the tic stopped. “There’s nothing else to tell. I needed some cash for a hit. Your house looked ripe.”

Katie studied him. “You’re not a junkie.”

He lifted a brow and shrugged. “I didn’t say the hit was for me.”

She slammed a hand on the table and he jumped. “Quit playing me! What were you doing in my house?”

* * *

Jordan shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. If he didn’t, the temptation to burst into the investigation room and wrap his fingers around Wray’s throat might just be too much for him.

He slid a glance at Gregory Lee, Katie’s partner. The man had come when he’d heard the call over his radio. Jordan said, “She holds her own, doesn’t she?”

“She’s sharp. Can spot a lie a mile away. Only you know as well as I do she shouldn’t be in there questioning him.”

“I know. You going to get in there and tell her to get out?”

“In a minute or two.”

Jordan smothered a smile. Gregory was a good partner. He stood about two inches over six feet, and Jordan knew he’d just celebrated his thirty-third birthday, because one of Katie’s excuses for not meeting with him last week was because she had a birthday party to attend for her partner.

“You have any thoughts on why Wray would have been in Katie’s house?”

Lee shook his head. “No.”

“Any cases y’all are working bring anything to mind?”

Gregory finally looked at him. “Nothing in particular. Why? You don’t think this was a random thing?”

“Do you?”

Gregory shrugged. “Cops don’t have any special protection when it comes to a breaking and entering.”

“I know. It just seems...odd. He breaks into her house at five-thirty on a Tuesday afternoon. That’s about the time a lot of people are coming home from work. Why risk being spotted by a neighbor or the homeowner walking in on him...like Katie did.”

“Good questions.” Gregory eyed him. “Why don’t you pass those on to Katie?”

“She’ll think of them.”

Katie looked up and scratched her nose.

Gregory said, “That’s my cue.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “She’s not pushing. She’s going to let me push the guy.” He shot Jordan a look. “Guess I’ll get to ask those questions.” He slipped from the observation room and soon was in the interrogation room. Katie pressed the file into his hands and within seconds joined Jordan. “You look tired,” he said.

“Tired and frustrated.”

Jordan nodded. “I understand. But just one question.”

“What’s that?”

“If Wray didn’t pick your home by accident, then what was the reason behind the break-in?”

“Exactly what I’ve been trying to figure out.”

Unfortunately, Gregory didn’t get anything else out of Mr. Wray, either, and they left with more questions than answers.

On the way to the car, she asked, “What are your plans tonight?”

“I’m going to stop at my parents’ house, then head home. I need to go over some notes.”

She cocked her head. “Do you work all the time?”

Jordan flashed her a tight smile. “Of course. Don’t you?”

She blew out a short laugh. “Yeah. Pretty much.” She paused and bit her lip.

“What is it?”

Katie sighed. “Are you going to tell your parents we’re working together?”

Jordan pressed his lips together as he pondered that question. “I don’t know.”

She nodded, her eyes troubled. Jordan found himself wanting to soothe the agitation there. He wanted to take her in his arms and reassure her that it would be all right. He swallowed hard and resisted the desire to act on those feelings.

He pictured that day in the morgue. Looking down at his brother’s face. Surrounded by his parents’ grief and Katie’s guilt-ridden eyes.

He shuddered. Yeah. Better to turn those feelings off now before they developed into something that would break both of their hearts.

THREE

Wednesday morning Katie woke to the sun streaming through the blinds and a headache she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy. Except maybe her uncooperative intruder from yesterday. Yeah. He could have it.

She squinted against the light and held a hand to her throbbing head, wondering who’d stabbed her just above her right eye. She glanced at the clock. Eight-fifteen. Where was she?

Oh, right, Grandma Jean’s. And today was Wednesday. Grandma Jean would be at her weekly Bible study and Mariah, a crime-lab technician, would have left for work about thirty minutes ago.

Katie moved and the room tilted. She groaned and decided the pain felt like little men with ice picks were assaulting her head.

Medicine first.

Call in sick second.

Once she’d ticked both items off her list, she closed the curtains over the blinds and crawled back under the covers. Bracing her head against the headboard, she kept her eyes shut and let her mind spin.

Time passed in a blur. It seemed like mere minutes when her cell phone rang, jarring her from her twilight sleep. A quick glance at the clock told her it was lunchtime. Her stomach growled in agreement.

She answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Katie? You all right?” Jordan asked.

She supposed her froglike voice might have clued him in that something might be wrong. “Yeah. Had a bad headache.”

“Had? As in it’s gone now?”

She considered the question. “Not entirely, but it’s better. Manageable.”

“Manageable enough to meet me for lunch?”

Did she want to? Not really, because she had a feeling what the topic of conversation would be. But she’d made this decision to pursue her sister’s case. A case that wouldn’t even exist if Katie hadn’t turned her back on Lucy for just a little too long. Lucy had been seven years old when fourteen-year-old Katie had helped a neighbor with her groceries. When she’d returned to the yard, Lucy had been gone. And Katie had been blamed by her parents ever since. Especially her mother.

It wasn’t too late to back out, but she knew deep down she didn’t want to do that. She needed to know what had happened to Lucy, needed somehow to absolve herself of this raging guilt she’d carried for the last fourteen years. “Sure. What’d you have in mind?”

“I think I remember you like pizza?”

“Of course.”

“How about Gino’s?”

The little pizza place about three minutes from Grandma Jean’s house. She swiped a hand through her hair. “Give me about thirty minutes.”

“Deal.”

“And I’m paying for mine, okay? I mean, this isn’t like a date, right?” she blurted. Silence from the other end. She fought the mortification at her silly assumption that he had even thought about paying for her lunch.

She opened her mouth to apologize only to hear him say on a choked laugh, “Well, if I’d been thinking along those lines, I’m not now.”

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to make things awkward. Was actually trying to avoid that by clearing that up before we met.”

He gave another low chuckle and she knew if she looked in the mirror, she’d be beet red. “You can pay for yours. See you soon, Katie.” His silky goodbye sent shivers dancing up her spine. Oh, no. She had not just done that, had she? Why, oh why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut?

And yet she couldn’t extinguish the spark of excitement that flared at the thought of being with him again. “It’s not a date,” she reminded herself as she flew through her routine, her headache all but gone.

Twenty-six minutes later, she walked through the door of the popular pizza café and spotted Jordan seated at a back table with a large pizza at the center. Christmas music played in the background, and a toasty fire added to the warmth of the atmosphere.

Katie slid into the chair opposite him. A glass of iced tea sat in front of her and she took a swig. He handed her a plate and a napkin. “Pepperoni all right?”

“More than all right. It’s my favorite.”

“That’s what I’ve heard.”

He had, huh? Erica?

She waited for him to mention her embarrassing moment on the phone, but he seemed to have let it go. She relaxed and for the next few minutes they ate while Katie wondered about the man across from her.

“What’s your story, Jordan?”

He stilled, glanced up at her then back to his pizza. “What do you mean?”

“You used to be with the FBI full time. Why did you leave to come work for Erica?”

“Partly because Brandon asked me to.” Brandon Hayes was Erica’s brother and partner with Finding the Lost. And Jordan’s roommate. He chewed his food and swallowed. “It’s a long story.”

He obviously didn’t want to talk about it, but she decided not to let him off the hook that easily. “I’ve got time.” He knew her entire sordid mess of a story. Would he trust her enough to share his background?

He stared at her then looked down at his food. “I was working with the Crimes Against Children division. Fighting online predators. I messed up and a kid died. End of story.”

Katie gasped. “Jordan, I’m so sorry.”

He continued to eat in silence, but Katie knew there was more. She decided to go for broke. “How did you mess up?”

He paused, set the uneaten piece of pizza on his plate and sighed. “I was outsmarted.”

She stared at him, skeptical. “I can’t see that happening.”

For a moment his eyes thawed and the grief that had been there faded a fraction. “Thanks for that.” He shook his head. “The guy on the other end of the computer had routed his IP address through so many different places, I was having a hard time tracking him. When I finally got a lock on him, it was too late. He’d killed the young girl and taken off.”

“Was he ever found?”

“Yes. The next day, when he tried to snatch another kid.”

She considered his story. “Is that why you only work cold cases at Finding the Lost? Like my sister’s case? Like Molly’s?” Jordan had been a key player in finding little Molly James, Erica’s daughter, who’d been kidnapped three years ago. Molly had been reunited with her mother six months before and was adjusting well thanks to a team effort. That was one case Katie would never forget. She’d worked countless hours looking for Molly and had forged a deep friendship with Erica as a result.

Jordan’s nostrils flared, her insight seeming to surprise him. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

She shrugged. “Maybe not to the ordinary person, but I just put two and two together.”

“Right.” Jordan tossed his napkin onto the table like he’d lost his appetite. “Can we get into the details about your sister’s case?”

She’d pushed enough. “I suppose it’s time.”

Jordan steepled his fingers and said, “Two weeks ago, you asked us to look into your sister’s disappearance.”

“Right.”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe it’s already been fourteen years. In some ways it seems like she’s been gone forever. In others, it seems like it was yesterday.”

“I took the information you gave me and the information from the file and tried to piece together the events of that day. I wanted to bounce everything off of you, see if you had anything else to add.” He paused. “And would have already done so if you had taken my calls.”

She grimaced. He stayed silent, but kept his gaze on her face. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.” Katie paused and considered what she wanted to tell him. She finally said, “You know, I became a detective because of Lucy.”

He nodded. “Erica mentioned something along those lines.”

“In the beginning, I did what I could on my own time to find her. But I kept running into brick walls. I got frustrated and angry that I wasn’t making any progress. It became an...obsession. Once again, the case was taking over my life.” She licked her lips and took a swig of her iced tea. “The first time was when she was taken. My parents worked so hard to find her—flyers, press conferences, interviews, everything. And of course I did what I could to be involved and help, but I was fourteen. I was powerless.” She swallowed hard.

“I hated that feeling. But now I was doing something.” She sighed. “My lieutenant had been very understanding, but I’d reached the limit on his patience. He was ready to put me on suspension because I was letting it affect my performance on my other cases. I had to stop if I wanted to save my career, my sanity. So I did.”

And she felt guilty for that. “I told myself I would take a break and get back to it. And I came to Finding the Lost because I thought it would be good to have some outside help to keep me from becoming obsessed.”

“How long has your break been?”

“A year.”

“So after a year, you decide to start searching again. Why the hesitation now?”

She rubbed her eyes. “Part of me is scared that I’ll do it again. Let it become an obsession. And as much as I want to know what happened to her, that can’t happen. And—” she picked at imaginary lint on the sleeve of her fleece “—I’m afraid of what I’m—we’re—going to find.”

“You’re scared we’re going to find out she’s dead.”

Katie looked up. “It’s been fourteen years, Jordan. You know the odds as well as I do.” She took a deep breath. “Don’t get me wrong. I want to know what happened to her. And yet...I don’t.”

“You can’t have it both ways.” He gentled his tone.

“I know that.” She rubbed a hand down her weary face and closed her eyes. “I just... What if she’s dead?” she whispered. “How will I tell my parents that? How will I live with it?”

Jordan leaned over and took her hand. The warmth of his fingers on hers made her shiver. “Won’t it give you some closure? One way or the other? All these years you’ve held out hope. Even if she’s dead, wouldn’t you finally be able to put it behind you?”

Katie shrugged and bit her lip then said, “I don’t know. That’s the problem. I simply don’t know.”

Jordan sighed. “Well, I’ve got information. I need to know what you want me to do with it.”

She shook her head. “Finding Lucy is why I’m here. I’ve been kidding myself thinking I could just let it go permanently.” She took a deep breath and met his gaze. “I’ve got to know one way or another—and I think my parents do, too.” After shredding her napkin into tiny pieces, she firmed her lips and looked him in the eye. “So tell me.”

* * *

Jordan pulled at his lower lip. Then he said, “I called a friend at the bureau and asked him about the case, got the file emailed to me and did some research. Your lieutenant was nice enough to let me have the local law enforcement file so I could compare the two.” He set that on the table in front of her.

She glanced at it. “Who have you talked to so far?”

“A lot of people. Particularly those who still live in your old neighborhood.”

“Go on.”

He pulled out a notebook and flipped through a few pages. “I tried to get in touch with your neighbor Elaine Johnson.”

“She’s still alive?” Katie asked.

It surprised him she didn’t know. “Yes. She’s old, but she’s definitely alive. The only problem is, she wasn’t home. I’ve been by her house three times and she’s not there. I asked some of your neighbors where she is and one of them thought she was visiting her son in Georgia. Another said she was in the hospital. And yet another said she thought she was in a nursing home. I’m tracking her down.”

“How about that. Elaine Johnson’s still alive.” She gave a breathy laugh. “Wow. I mean, I knew she was a year ago, but she was in the hospital with congestive heart failure the last I heard. I ended up deciding to take my break before I was able to talk to her, but I would scan the obituaries in the paper thinking I’d see her name. When I never did, I figured I just missed it.” She bit her lip and shook her head. “She didn’t see anything anyway that day. She was with me in the house when it all happened.”

Jordan nodded. Elaine Johnson. The next-door neighbor who’d needed help with her groceries. Katie had carried several bags into the house and then returned to her front yard to find Lucy missing.

She swallowed hard. “Who else have you had a chance to talk to?”

“Some of the other neighbors, but no one seemed to notice anything odd that day—until you called the cops and they swarmed the neighborhood. I’m still trying to track down a few people I haven’t gotten in touch with, people who’ve moved out of the neighborhood, but there aren’t many. I want to question every neighbor who was within sight of your old front yard.”