Loe raamatut: «Cold Case Christmas»

ONE

A country a version of “Holly Jolly Christmas” played inside Chief Deputy Sheriff Rush Buchanan’s Bronco. His coffee steamed from the insulated thermos and sleet pelted his windshield. Blue lights flashed and cast eerie shadows over Shepherd Rock Lake. Wind jostled his vehicle as he slid his hands into his lambskin gloves. Nothing about this moment was “holly” or “jolly.”

He opened the door and braved the nasty weather. East Tennessee had its perks, though. Splendor Pines was the gateway to the gorgeous Smoky Mountains, capped in white at the moment. But now, in the darkness, with the mountains shadowing the horizon, everything appeared sinister, especially with the headlights shining on the rusted and mud-caked car they’d dragged from the lake.

The crunching of tires on gravel turned Rush’s attention from the car and the pit in his gut. Sherriff Troy Parsons parked beside him and climbed out. He frowned and flipped his collar over his ears. “Well?” he asked in his gruff voice.

“It’s a Jaguar. Deputy Tate ran the plates. It’s hers.”

Troy grunted. Rush didn’t need to expound. Marilyn Livingstone had driven a Jaguar and she’d been missing since Christmas Eve seventeen years ago.

“Remains inside?”

“Skeletal. I think DNA is going to confirm it.”

“Any other remains?”

“No.”

Troy cocked his head, studied the vehicle dripping with water and debris. “Theories?”

Rush had plenty. But speculating aloud wasn’t smart. Especially with the small crowd that had gathered. He moved closer to Troy, his mentor and father figure after Dad became a shell of the man he once was. “I know rumors say she ran off with a man that Christmas Eve.” One of many she’d been whispered to have had affairs with. Not all were lies. Rush had witnessed it with his own eyes on the very night Marilyn vanished. Only Troy knew his secret.

Troy hunched in the cold and rolled his toothpick around lips that were hidden by a dark mustache and beard. “You want to call the Livingstones? Or would you rather not deal with talking to the eldest daughter?”

“You can say her name.” Nora. The woman Rush thought he was going to marry. Then Marilyn went missing and metaphorically, so did Nora. She retreated into herself and broke things off just before she left for college. Rush sighed, took his flashlight and trudged through the snow to the car. A crime scene tech was photographing and collecting materials. “Find anything?”

“A round, silver cuff link and partial remains of a man’s masquerade mask.”

Could they have belonged to the man Rush had seen Marilyn with that night? He turned to Troy. “How do you want to proceed?”

“I don’t know why she’d be out this far from home with the biggest event of the year going on, but it turned into a tragic accident. Pretty cut-and-dried, don’t you think?”

Seemed so. “Suppose we’ll know more once Gary can examine the bones. Course he won’t be able to determine cause of death if it’s drowning,” Rush said.

“What else would it be? Other than maybe the impact of crashing into the lake knocked her out. I’ll be honest, I hope that’s the case and she wasn’t conscious when the waters took her. But let’s leave it to Gary. He ought to be rolling in soon.”

Rush agreed.

“We need to call Joshua,” Troy said. “He’ll want to know we’ve discovered his wife.” Joshua Livingstone owned the biggest resort and lodge in Splendor Pines. A powerful man, but one of the kindest Rush had ever known. He’d handled the many rumors about his wife with poised grace. Which—if Rush hadn’t witnessed Marilyn kissing a man in a Phantom of the Opera mask that night of the annual Christmas Eve Masquerade Ball—he wouldn’t have believed. What kind of man wouldn’t have a meltdown over his wife cheating on him? Numerous times—if all the tales were true.

Rush adjusted his wool collar; icy beads had steadily slicked down his neck, but he didn’t mind. His whole body was flushed. “I guess Nora will come home.” Granted she came every Christmas Day, but only for the day. Rush had to share some of the blame for that.

“You ready?” Troy asked.

Was anyone ready to see the person they thought they’d have the rest of their lives with? “I’ve moved on, Troy.”

“And your last date was?”

“Six months ago with Brandy Walker.” She was sweet. Lived in the neighboring town. They met at a church singles social. But he hadn’t felt a spark. Would he ever? Would he always be a lonely bachelor living in a house too big for one man on the side of the mountain?

Troy grunted. “I know Nora was a pretty little thing. Still is. But at some point, you’re going to have to stop comparing other women to her. Who’s to say you’d even have a thing in common with her anymore?”

The downside to father figures. They felt the license to say whatever and whenever. And however. “I’m over Nora Livingstone. Not finding the right woman has nothing to do with her and everything with God’s timing.” Which was slower than Grandma Buchanan’s homemade sorghum. “Sometimes I wish you weren’t my mentor,” he deadpanned.

“Sometimes I do too.” Troy smirked. “I’ll call Joshua and give him the news. Merry early Christmas.”

“And a happy New Year to no one,” Rush muttered.

Troy shook his head and climbed back inside his vehicle to make the call, leaving Rush to the wreckage. The body. Why would you leave Nora and Hailey, Marilyn? She may not have been faithful to her husband, but she’d doted on her girls.

New gawkers arrived with local media.

“Is that Marilyn’s car?” a few asked.

“Poor Joshua.”

“He’s probably relieved to be rid of that...”

Insults, opinions and gossipy speculation rode on the wind, slapping Rush’s face with frozen fingers. Gossip murdered the spirit. He’d witnessed it happen to his own father. Over ten years now and he’d never returned to pastoring or part-time law enforcement no matter how hard Rush and the rest of his family prayed. Dad had chosen to hide from everything and everyone.

Rush turned on the crowd. “Someone is dead. This person had family and friends, so show a little respect, please, or I’ll have every last one of you dragged from here. Am I clear?”

The onlookers quieted. For now.

Before long a black Escalade pulled up next to Rush’s Bronco. Joshua Livingstone—larger than life in his long, black fancy coat—stepped out. Jet-black hair and intense eyes, the same color, focused on Rush. “Troy called.” His voice was baritone but soft. Rush recognized the sorrow, the need for answers. Hailey, Nora’s younger sister, sat in the passenger side, tears rolling down her cheeks—she looked so much like her sister, only her hair was a darker blond and she had Joshua’s eyes. She’d been through a lot lately with her separation from her husband. She and their son lived at the main house with Joshua. Rush hated to be the bearer of bad news, but now they might be able to find peace.

“All we know is the car is registered to you, and I’m sure you can tell it’s Marilyn’s. The...remains need a DNA test but I’m pretty sure they’ll come back as your wife’s. I’m so sorry for your loss, Joshua.”

Troy returned and shook hands with Joshua.

Joshua stared at the car. “Any idea what happened?”

Rush sighed and glanced at the car that had once been shiny and sleek. “You know what the weather is like up here this time of year. Seems a tragic accident.”

Joshua nodded. “When can we have her for a proper burial?”

“We need to officially confirm it’s her. After that, I see no reason why you can’t have her back.”

They stood silently staring for several long minutes until another set of headlights flashed behind Joshua’s Escalade. Rush squinted, blinded by the lights. The driver didn’t bother to kill them before the door to the car opened and a woman’s figure stepped out, slipped under the crime scene tape and stomped toward him.

“Hey,” he shouted. “You can’t be out here.”

“The cumulus clouds I can’t!” she hollered back.

Rush wouldn’t freeze from the nearly single-digit temps. But his heart froze at the sound of Nora’s voice. Sassy. Southern—though a little less country in it than he remembered, but then she’d moved to Knoxville and taken a prestigious job as Chief Meteorologist. He watched her every night at six online. Didn’t much care about the weather unless it affected his townspeople. He watched to see her sunshiny smile with a chance of twinkle in her blue-green eyes.

Right now, she was all storm clouds and thunder. But even so she was a sight to behold, dressed in a soft but thick coat, gray beanie and knee-high leather boots. He couldn’t seem to find his voice.

Nora marched up to him, as if the weather didn’t bother her in the least. She nearly reached his chin flat-footed. The smell of cherry blossoms and vanilla filled his nose, and the familiar scent brought a wave of memories. He’d been crazy about her since third grade. But he’d gained the courage in eighth grade and asked her to a dance. They’d dated all through high school.

“Don’t just stare at me, Rush. Answer me.”

What had she said? “Repeat the question, please.”

“Is it my mom?” She looked to her father, but he stood stoically.

Rush shook out of the memories. “DNA will confirm it, but I think it’s safe to say it’s your mama.” Did he hug her? He wasn’t sure what to do. “I’m sorry, Nora Beth,” he murmured.

Nora’s chin quivered and for a millisecond Rush thought she was going to fall into him. And that’d be okay. But she turned at the last second and ran into her father’s arms. Looked to him for solace.

Joshua kissed Nora’s cheek. “It’s going to be okay, honey.” She shuddered against her father’s chest, then gained resolve and faced Rush.

“Do you know what happened?” she asked lightly.

“We don’t, but it’s dark and we haven’t had a chance to thoroughly examine everything.”

“You will, won’t you, Rush?” She sniffed and wiped a tear.

Rush closed the gap between them and grasped her gloved hand with his. She never wanted to believe Marilyn had abandoned her family. But, here in the lake leading out of town, it appeared that was exactly what she’d done. Rush didn’t know how to spare her that pain. He’d tried to spare her then by never revealing what he saw that night with Marilyn and the Phantom. But now? The evidence was right in front of her eyes.

Troy gripped her shoulder in a fatherly manner. “The roads were bad that night. Probably hit a patch of black ice. The only thing left is to confirm it is your mama and put her and this to rest, hon.”

Nora gaped and freed her hand from Rush’s. “Unacceptable.”

“Nora,” Joshua said calmly.

She shrugged him off. “Doesn’t anyone want to know why she was out here? On Christmas Eve night?”

“Of course we do, but that’s not relevant or even possible to know now,” Troy offered.

Nora pointed with her black glove toward the car. “I know what you’re thinking. The whole town has thought it for years.” Her voice rose with each word. The crowd attentively listened, reporters salivated. “She wasn’t leaving us. She was out here that night for a reason, and I’m going to find out if I have to turn over every rock, crawl into every hole and re-create every weather pattern for a week leading up to the event. My mother didn’t leave me!” Her watery eyes met Rush’s. “She didn’t.”

Rush itched to comfort her, but she’d push him away. The last time she left his arms, she’d called him a cheater, a liar and a jerk. He’d own up to two out of three. He didn’t embrace her but he did pull her aside. “What if you don’t like where that night takes you, Nora?” he asked softly. “Let it go. Be content with the fact that she loved you.”

If Nora dug, it could turn up a lot of dirt.

“I will not be content until I know what she was doing out here. And just because you assume it’s an accident doesn’t mean it was.” Nora shivered. “What if someone hurt her?”

He couldn’t rule out foul play yet, but it was unlikely—even with the evidence retrieved from Marilyn’s car. Nora wanted any answer other than the one that claimed her mother was leaving town without so much as a goodbye. And they’d never know the reason. It had been nearly two decades. “I told you I’d look into it, Nora.”

“You promise?”

“Nora, I’ve never broken a promise to you. I won’t break one now.” He hadn’t broken the promise to be together forever. She had. He’d tried everything to coax her back into the land of the living—back to him. In the end, she’d left him picking up the shattered pieces of his heart.

Her lips soured. “No, I suppose you haven’t broken a promise to me. But you have broken them.”

She hit him square in the frozen heart, thawing it to a burning muscle that pulsed with regret. He hadn’t broken a promise, but he had broken a commitment to the girl he was dating when Nora came home after graduating college for a job opportunity with a radio station. He hadn’t expected that, or for her to call him and see if they could grab dinner, catch up, since she’d pulled away from him after her mom went missing.

It was as if nothing had ever come between them, and she’d been planning on moving back if things went well with her interview.

Things escalated, snowballed. He honestly meant to tell Nora about Ainsley, and that he’d already intended to break things off with her anyway—it was the truth. But before he had the chance, Ainsley caught him and Nora in a heated kiss on Lookout Tower.

Angry words had been hurled. Words like You’re just like your mother. A home-wrecker. Statements like Wait until the town hears that perfect Nora Livingstone is her mother made over. Nora wouldn’t let Rush explain, and really what could he say? He had cheated on Ainsley with Nora. He was wrong. He admitted it. He’d made amends with Ainsley since, and she was now married to Dan, Troy’s son and Rush’s good friend. Water under the bridge, but Nora had tucked tail and run to Knoxville, never looked back. Never answered a call from Rush.

He glanced at Troy and ignored his disdain over Rush’s declaration to look into things. It might be a waste of time and manpower, but he’d oblige Nora this one thing.

He owed her.

Nora’s heart might explode. There were so many emotions going on right now. She’d come home twelve days before Christmas—not by choice—only to arrive at the lodge and be told that Dad and Hailey were out at Shepherd Rock Lake with the police. That alone sent knives to her gut. But now here she was face-to-face with Rush. Time had filled out the young man’s body into a grown man’s, muscled by hard outdoor work more than gym visits; she’d heard he’d built a log cabin up farther on the mountain.

His hat covered his toasted blond hair, but eyes the color of Hershey bars drilled into hers. Rush wasn’t a promise breaker. He used to be the most noble and honest person she’d ever known. And he could make her laugh on a dime. But then he had hurt her and at the moment she wasn’t sure he’d give the investigation all he had. Troy Parsons wanted to end it right now.

But Mom was here for a reason and Nora couldn’t let it rest. However, arguing about it when she was standing in the middle of a monster Christmas storm coming through wasn’t wise. She’d predicted back in September low pressures off the Gulf Coast and arctic outbreaks across the Southeast. Snowflakes had begun in early October. This was likely to be the worst snow and ice storm in twenty-five years, but she couldn’t afford to fly south for the winter. She was upside down in debt and she’d been pushed out of her Chief Meteorologist job at channel six in Knoxville.

To say she was touchy was an understatement.

Dad approached her. “I’m taking Hailey home, honey. Don’t stay here any longer than you feel you have to. I’ll have the guest chalet stocked for you.” He kissed her forehead.

She nodded at Dad and watched him climb in his vehicle. Hailey hadn’t once stepped out. Not even to acknowledge Nora was home. She didn’t handle hard situations well. Neither did Nora, but someone had to be Mom’s voice. Someone had to find out the truth.

Nora walked closer to Mom’s car. All these years, she’d been submerged. Christmas Eve used to be Nora’s favorite night. The resort and lodge was always booked with families and couples from all over the world, anticipating the renowned Christmas Eve Masquerade Ball. A glorious night decorated in red, green and gold. A nativity ice sculpture. Fountains of gold sparkling cider. Christmas music. Friends. Family. Fun.

Nora’s heart ached. Her father still put on the event as if her mother hadn’t gone missing that night. He had barely said a word about it. Didn’t push or force the investigation. Maybe he had believed the vicious murmurs about Mom.

Well, not Nora.

“Nora.” Rush’s voice came softer than moss. “Don’t go any closer. Some things can’t be unseen.”

And some things couldn’t be undone. “Do you remember it raining and being slick that night?”

“I don’t know,” he said sadly. She glanced at him, his nose red and eyes deep with compassion and pity. If only he knew how pitiful Nora was. Not two pennies to rub together. But he’d never know. No one would. It was all too humiliating.

“I don’t.” Nora had always been fascinated with weather, which was why she remembered there had been snow earlier but the temps had been mild for December. “I need to trace her steps that night and find out what time she left the party and ended up here. Someone saw or heard something. They had to have.” If she could piece together the weather from that fateful Christmas Eve, she might be able to determine if the car going into the lake was related to weather conditions or not. Her part-time work as a forensic meteorologist had her doing this often, helping insurance companies with claims.

Rush licked his lips and pawed his scruffy face. “Let me do it. Spend your time with family. Isn’t that why you’re home so early?” He cocked his head, and plumes of air trailed from his mouth.

She was here because she had nowhere else to go. When the news played and she wasn’t on-screen they’d know. “I left channel six.”

Rush’s eyebrows rose. “Really? Why?”

The cold seeped into her bones and her teeth chattered. “I’m ready for warmer weather. Going to take a job in Florida.” She hoped anyway. She ought to know in the next week or two. And right now she did want warmer weather. She was a human Popsicle.

Rush frowned. “You love mountain air. Skiing. Snowball fights.”

“I do know how to pack a snowball,” she quipped. “But people change. I’m ready for palm trees and waterskiing.” She adjusted her knit cap and rubbed her hands, her gloves not keeping her as warm as she’d like, and stared at Mom’s car. “Anything inside besides...her?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “We found a cuff link in the car, partial male masquerade mask. Haven’t checked the trunk yet, but we’ll gather the evidence, see what we see.”

A cuff link. A mask. “A man was in the car that night?”

“Seems like.” His eyes were shifty.

“What are you keeping from me?”

“Nothing pertinent to the case.”

“Promise?”

“Nora, trust me.”

She laughed humorlessly. “Last time I trusted you, Rush, you broke two women’s hearts and made me look cheap. I’m sure the whole town thinks it.” Ainsley surely spread it all over the world.

“No one thinks that, Nora, and you’d have known that if you hadn’t gotten out of Dodge at world-record speed. But that’s what you do.” He shoved a hand on his hip and heaved a breath.

Nora’s temperature rose a few degrees. “And cheating on women. That’s what you do?”

Rush’s jaw ticked. “We were kids. And I was going to tell you.”

“We were twenty-one. And you didn’t. You gave the town a new tale to spin.” But fighting about it was pointless, and Nora was cold and exhausted. “Can you find prints on the cuff link?”

Rush inhaled and rubbed his chin, then exhaled. His shoulders relaxed. “Doubtful. But I’ll try. I’ll try everything.” He held her gaze and she fidgeted. Angry at him or not, she wasn’t blind. The man was attractive. Always had been.

“How did you find the car?” It had been seventeen years. Why now?

“You remember Brandon Deerborn?”

Few years ahead of them. “Yeah.”

“His son was doing a project using Google maps and our town. Found the lake and noticed something in it. Like a shimmer, he said. He went out there, climbed a pine to check it out—fell out of the tree by the way and broke his arm...also he’s grounded for leaving without asking—and Brandon called me. Put the divers in and we hauled it out. Water was too murky to notice it at ground level.”

“Google maps. Invasive yet...” She shrugged. “He might be grounded but he’ll be a town hero.” Or maybe not. If what people said about Mom was true, there’d be a few who wouldn’t be too thrilled the Deerborn kid had found her.

Rush didn’t say anything and kept his eyes on the sky. “Storm’s coming in. But I guess you know this already.” He smirked.

She grinned, then sobered. “I’m serious about investigating. I want answers before I leave here, and I won’t bring up our past again. Better if we leave things on the personal side alone. Focus on the case.”

“We don’t have a case. Yet.” The freezing rain slacked up.

“Never hurts to ask questions.”

“Yes, it does. Sometimes.” Rush shoved his gloved hands in his pockets. “Go home. Be with your family. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

He was right. Nothing she could do tonight. She walked back to her car, opened the door when Rush called out. “Nora Beth, be careful. The roads are slick. Watch for deer.”

Her middle name was Jane, but Rush had never once used it. A little nod to Little House on the Prairie. In high school, she’d forced him to watch reruns, but there hadn’t been much Rush wouldn’t have done for her. Manly called Laura Beth. Only him. Rush had started that at fifteen. It warmed the chill seeping into Nora’s bones. “Will do.”

She climbed inside and blasted the heat. She’d regretted pushing Rush away after Mom vanished. She’d been hurt. Wanted a fresh start, to pretend she lived in a town where gossip about Mom hadn’t abounded. Where she didn’t feel shame. But coming home after college—she’d missed Rush so much it ached—she thought he might be willing to give it another chance, and if so she’d stay. And he’d done the one thing she’d worked hard to avoid—made her the subject of ugly rumors.