Love Inspired Suspense June 2021--Box Set 1 of 2, page 52
“I never said thank-you for what you did at the funeral. I’m sorry the Nolans have the impression we’re engaged in inappropriate behavior.”
Trey winced. “I hope I didn’t offend you by what I said to Sergeant Oliver.”
“No. I totally get it. We’re coworkers.”
Hurt flashed in Trey’s eyes, but he nodded. “Exactly. Nothing more.”
“That kiss never should’ve happened. It was a fluke. I didn’t read anything more into it. In case you were wondering.” She was rambling and justifying. He’d see right through her.
“Just a flurry of emotion.” Trey glanced at his watch. “And we’re done. Alex isn’t coming. This is a joke.” His cell phone buzzed. “Yeah, I said the same thing. Sorry for wasting your time. We were played. Nah, go ahead and leave. We’re doing the same.” Trey pocketed his phone. “Let’s get out of here.”
Disappointment weighed down Justine’s shoulders. “I thought we’d get a break in the case.”
“There’s got to be a clue in the diary about the key, and now we know to look for it.”
They slid off the cement dock step and walked to the door. Trey gripped the handle. “It’s locked.” He thrust his shoulder against it, but the door didn’t budge.
“Must’ve locked behind us.” Justine turned. An exit sign glowed from the other side of the warehouse. “There’s another door. We can go out that way.”
They crossed the space and pushed it open without issue. She paused and peered outside. They were on the opposite side of the building, near a retaining wall with overgrown weeds.
“All clear.” Justine stepped out first, her foot brushing something.
Magnum barked and took off running up the sloped ground. He disappeared into the vegetation.
In what felt like slow motion, she turned to Trey.
He lifted her and lunged away from the building.
A blast propelled them into the air, exploding the space with a vicious orange light.
They landed hard on the pavement, and Trey covered her, pressing down on Justine as metal and wood showered them.
She tried not to breathe in the dirt, and her body didn’t move for what felt like hours. Her ears rang with a deafening sound so intense her brain throbbed.
Trey shifted, helping Justine to her feet. His lips moved, but she couldn’t hear him. He put his hands around his mouth, calling in the direction the dog had run off to. Then he hopped onto the retaining wall and sprinted into the weeds. Justine’s legs were heavy and her body ached, but she followed, stepping up to the higher ground. Where had Trey gone?
“Magnum!” Trey’s voice broke through the ringing in her ears. The sound distant but strong. A flashlight swept across an area to her right.
Justine jogged to him. His cries for Magnum were growing more desperate and frequent. Worry etched Trey’s face, along with several scrapes and cuts from the blast.
The warehouse continued to smolder below.
Together, they searched the grasslands, taking turns calling his name. The property merged into a large field leading to the highway.
Headlights illuminated the roadway below.
Lord, help us!
Where had Magnum gone? Was he hurt?
In the distance, movement in her peripheral vision caught Justine’s attention. She spun and spotted Magnum running. No, he was limping.
Oh, please be okay. Justine took off, and Trey joined her, closing the gap to where Magnum approached, half running, half limping.
Trey lifted him, holding the animal against his heaving chest and burying his face in Magnum’s neck.
Justine looked up, scanning the area. “I don’t see anyone out there.”
Trey shifted Magnum to her arms. “Stay here.” He hurried off in the direction from where Magnum had run to them, then returned within a few minutes. “Whatever or whoever he was chasing is long gone.”
Justine inspected his paws, and Magnum jerked when she touched his previously injured paw. “He’s hurt.”
“Let’s get back to the truck.” Trey took Magnum and cradled him as they traipsed to the warehouse.
Eric’s patrol truck sat in the parking lot. He and Apollo approached. “I saw the explosion when I reached the main road and turned around. Already got fire rescue on the way.”
Emphasizing his words, sirens screamed in the distance.
“Convenient you were gone when the blast happened,” Trey shot.
Justine gaped at him. “Trey—”
“What’re you saying?” Eric stood taller.
Trey brushed past him. “Read it how you want. You were supposed to be our backup.”
“And you told me to go,” Eric argued.
“Yeah, and how was it someone just happened to get an IED trip wire set up in the only exit available and you never saw it happening?” Trey’s voice grew louder, and he still cradled Magnum.
“Gentlemen!” Justine stepped between them. “This isn’t the time or the place.” She faced Trey. “Take care of Magnum.”
“He’s hurt?” Eric moved beside them, genuine concern written in his eyes.
“Right before the blast, Magnum went after someone, but we never saw who. He must’ve lost him,” Justine explained.
Eric nodded. “I’ll take Apollo through there and see if he can get a scent.”
Trey and Justine walked to his patrol truck, and Trey worked to inspect Magnum’s wound. “Thank you for interrupting back there. We probably would’ve thrown fists.”
“You’re upset. Understandably, but at the wrong person.”
“Irwin should’ve seen someone if they set that IED wire.”
“Unless it’d been rigged before we got here.”
“I have a friend at the ATF. I’ll ask him to investigate.” Worry creased Trey’s forehead. “Mags, are you okay? I’m not sure what happened.” The sadness in his eyes tore at Justine.
“He could’ve stepped on something. A sticker?”
Trey shook his head. “No. It’s worse than that. If he reinjured the wound, Magnum may not be able to work anymore.” He stroked the animal’s neck. “You were right. I should’ve left him behind at the ranch. What if he’s permanently injured?”
“Let’s not throw the dog out with the bathwater.”
“Now you sound like Oliver.” Trey’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Have his veterinarian check him over before you make any rash decisions.”
Trey spun to face her. “Justine, you’ve seen him. He wants to work, but unless he’s out of commission for a lengthy time, I’m not sure he’ll ever get back to his normal self.” He looked past her where Eric and Apollo were working the hillside. “Maybe it’s time for him to retire.”
Justine remained silent, unsure what to say.
Trey reached for his radio. “Possible bombing. BOLO for suspect Alex Duncan, believed to be involved,” he continued, responding to the dispatcher’s request for specifics.
Justine stroked Magnum’s ears. Lord, is all of this hopeless? Please help Magnum.
Would the key provide any clue?
Trey returned to her. “When I get my hands on Alex—” He slammed his hand on the truck, pacing in front of her. “He lured us here, had that trip wire placed where we wouldn’t see it. Even had the door locked behind us.”
“You’ll get him,” Justine assured him.
He sighed, scrubbing his head. “Okay. I’m better.” Trey gently removed Magnum’s vest. “You did good, buddy.” He stepped back, closing the door, and paused. “Hey, what’s this?”
Justine leaned in, and he withdrew a flashlight, aiming it at the smear.
“I think it’s blood, but I need an ALS to confirm.”
“Alternative light source?” she clarified.
“Yes. If I’m right, the ALS will cause the blood to glow blue. Then we’ll ask the lab to take a sample. Magnum must’ve gotten a hold of the perp!” Hope danced in his eyes.
“I don’t mean to be a downer, but wouldn’t we need a known sample to run the blood against?”
“One step at a time. Stay optimistic. We’ll catch whoever did this.”
“Magnum didn’t just injure his paw. It’s possible the perp hit or kicked him.”
Trey’s jaw tightened. “Definitely. Let’s go to the troop office. They’ll have an ALS.”
“But will the lab run the sample now?”
“No, but with a little begging, maybe they’ll do it first thing in the morning.”
THIRTEEN
Dr. Taya McGill-Stryker’s announcement worked to drain the color from Fredrick Nolan’s face. Like a week-old helium balloon, the man shriveled before Justine. She stifled a yawn, the aftermath of a busy evening and talking late into the night with Taya. There’d been no time to return to the ranch, so Justine had bunked in Taya’s hotel room while Trey had lodged with a friend. They’d met with the lab after confirming the smear on Magnum’s vest was indeed blood. And the day was flying by.
“Are you absolutely certain?” Fredrick’s voice cracked with age and shock, dragging Justine to the present.
Susan Nolan’s eyes widened, and her cheeks reddened. “You’re making that up. Trying to justify the intrusion and desecration of Kayla’s grave site.”
“I assure you that is not the goal. I am an independent forensic anthropologist brought in to perform the evaluation without bias. My findings are documented and absolute. You may view the report for yourself,” Taya said.
“Oh, believe me, we will,” Susan bit out.
“Where? How?” Fredrick flattened his hands on the table, as if holding on for dear life.
“I discovered a fragmented tip of a needle embedded in Kayla’s spine,” Taya explained for the second time.
“But that doesn’t prove anything,” Susan argued.
“Actually, the location confirms Kayla did not voluntarily overdose. I found traces of the narcotics in her spine, as well. The trajectory makes it physically impossible for Kayla to have injected herself. I’m marking her file as a murder,” Taya said.
Fredrick’s shoulders slumped, and he covered his face. “My beautiful Kayla. What have we done?”
The strange comment grabbed Justine’s attention, and based on the expressions of the others present at the interrogation table, she wasn’t the only one.
The shift in Fredrick’s pain touched Justine. “Mr. Nolan, with this information, I believe it’s a reasonable assumption someone staged your daughter’s murder to look like an overdose. But who wanted her dead? Is there anything you remember that might help us?”
“This is ridiculous,” Susan argued. “Nothing has changed, from our point of view. Kayla’s death was a tragedy, but after all this time, what difference will changing the cause of it make?”
Justine gaped at the woman. “For one, we need to get a murderer off the streets.”
“Unless you’ve found evidence, how will that happen?” Susan shot back.
Fredrick rejoined the conversation, tears pooling in his eyes. “Kayla wasn’t using drugs?”
Taya shook her head. “I wish I could answer that to your satisfaction, but there’s not enough evidence one way or the other.”
“She wasn’t,” Justine defended her friend.
“I wanted to protect her.” Fredrick folded his hands on the table. “It was my doing. I asked Pete Lucas to steal Kayla’s body.”
“Fredrick!” Susan said. “Don’t say another word.”
“It’s time we told them.” He addressed Justine. “After talking with you, Susan and I had a long discussion and she convinced me Kayla’s reputation would be dragged through the mud along with ours. The media outlets were relentless the first time. I wanted to protect my family.”
Susan’s hand flew to her neck, where a large solitaire diamond hung from a thick rope chain. “You’re blaming me?”
“No, I’m stating the facts.” He sat back.
“Mr. Nolan, do you realize what you’re saying?” Trey intervened.
Fredrick nodded.
“You’ll be charged with tampering with the body,” Trey added.
“I understand and accept full responsibility. Whatever you need from me, I promise my cooperation.”
“I’ll try to keep your charges to a minimum,” Trey promised.
“Thank you.”
“Mr. Nolan, I found something in Kayla’s diary and wondered if you’d be willing to help me,” Justine inquired.
“Yes, of course.”
“Does the name Underwood Machler mean anything to you?” Justine asked.
He started to shake his head. “No, I—”
Susan jumped to her feet. “This is preposterous! My husband is obviously not feeling well and speaking from grief. Which you are taking advantage of. We’re leaving. If you need something, contact Alex Duncan.”
Trey stood. “We’d love to. The BOLO issued for him is still active. Any idea where he is?”
Susan’s lips narrowed into a thin line. She gripped Fredrick’s arm and hauled him up, then dragged him from the room, slamming the door behind her.
“Wow,” Taya said, facing Justine.
“Thank you again for everything.”
“I’m grateful I could help. Kayla deserves justice. I’ll be praying for you both. I’ll finish my investigation notes and get my finding to Sergeant Oliver today before I leave.” Taya gathered her files, and after a hug with Justine and a handshake with Trey, she exited the room.
“Is it me or did Susan seem to go off the deep end at the mention of Underwood Machler?” Justine asked.
“Um, yeah. Not sure if it was the name or the fact her husband confessed to stealing the body,” Trey said.
Justine’s phone rang. A glance at the screen sent her stomach into knots. Everything within her wanted to ignore the call, but experience had long ago taught her Victoria wouldn’t give up. “Hello.”
“Justine. Oh, honey, I’m so sorry for how I behaved yesterday.” Victoria’s words dripped with sweetness.
Typical. Attack. Apologize. Repeat. Justine sucked in a breath. “You’re grieving.”
“I am, darling, but that’s no excuse. Forgive me. After you’d gone, it hit me I’m all alone. And I can’t bear that.” Based on the sniffles and hiccups, Victoria was crying.
How many times had Justine heard her mother speak those words as justification after Ignaseus’s angry beatings? Yet a trickle of hope from her traitorous heart clung to one word. Family. Hadn’t Trey told her it was time to forgive her parents? Was this the step in doing that? “I forgive you.”
Victoria sniffled. “Thank you. Honey, I’ll be returning to North Platte—that’s where I live.”
Justine refrained from saying “I know.” Though they hadn’t spoken, she’d kept tabs on her parents. “I’m glad you called before you left.”
“Thing is, I had to talk with you today.”
Justine braced herself. Of course Victoria would call with ulterior motives.
“I did my best to be a good wife and mother. Even after that nasty Mrs. Scranton stole you away from me.”
Justine gripped the table with her free hand. Her mother always put down Mrs. Scranton, but the woman had saved Justine’s life. Figuratively and literally.
Victoria continued, “We all made sacrifices, and as much as your desertion devastated your father and I, I forgive you too.”
Warning signs blared. Victoria was warming up for the kill.
“You’re successful and can afford the funeral-service bill. I have nothing. Not even enough to bury the love of my life. The ceremony was beautiful. It’s too bad you weren’t able to stay.”
Justine bit her lip to stop the retort dying to escape, and redirected the conversation. “I wish I’d known sooner.”
Victoria sighed. “I’m sorry. But I need a little help to get me by. You see, I lost my job when your father fell ill, but I had to be by his side.”
Always Ignaseus’s defender, no matter the cost. “How much do you need?” Justine cut to the chase.
“I hate to ask, but ten thousand would be great.”
Justine gasped. “I don’t have that kind of money. I’ve recently endured some—” she considered what to tell her mother and opted for limited information “—damage to my house. I could probably swing a few hundred.”
“That’s just like you. So selfish. Take care of number one! Forget it, Justine. Stay out of my life.” Victoria hung up.
Justine stared at the phone, disbelieving.
“I’m scared to ask,” Trey said.
The comfort of her clinician persona provided a shield, and Justine slotted Victoria into the role of patient. “Apparently the amount I offered wasn’t good enough. I won’t hear from her again.” She glanced down at her hands. What must Trey Jackson, with the perfect family, think of her pathetic one’s brokenness?
“I’m proud of you.”
Her head jerked up. “What? You are?” Justine sighed. “I could take out a loan or something.”
“Absolutely not.”
She looked at him.
“Sorry, that’s not my place, but, Justine, going into debt isn’t the way to help her. Setting boundaries is healthy for both of you.”
Logically, he was correct. Her training agreed. But guilt weighed on her heart. “What kind of daughter refuses her mother?”
“Had you heard from Victoria before today?”
“Not since I moved in with Mrs. Scranton my sophomore year of high school.”
“Not once?”
“No.”
Trey put an arm around her shoulder. “You did the right thing.”
“Is it stupid that a part of me wants to give her the money, just to be accepted again?” She hated herself for admitting the embarrassing truth.
Trey took her hand. “Every child longs for their parent’s approval.”
“I want to be worth something to someone.” The confession slipped out before she could stop it, and she longed to retrieve it.
