Cold Case Christmas

Secrets lie buried in ice...

One of them can kill her.

Home for Christmas after her long-missing mother’s body is found, nothing will keep Nora Livingstone from uncovering the truth about the cold case. Especially not Deputy Sheriff Rush Buchanan, whom she once loved and left. Even when threats become attempts on her life, Rush can’t dissuade her—but he will protect her. Because someone is determined to bury the truth…or bury Nora.

JESSICA R. PATCH lives in the mid-South, where she pens inspirational contemporary romance and romantic suspense novels. When she’s not hunched over her laptop or going on adventurous trips with willing friends in the name of research, you can find her watching way too much Netflix with her family and collecting recipes for amazing dishes she’ll probably never cook. To learn more about Jessica, please visit her at jessicarpatch.com.

Also By Jessica R. Patch

Fatal Reunion

Protective Duty

Concealed Identity

Final Verdict

Cold Case Christmas

The Security Specialists

Deep Waters

Secret Service Setup

Dangerous Obsession

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Cold Case Christmas

Jessica R. Patch

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08658-5

COLD CASE CHRISTMAS

© 2018 Jessica R. Patch

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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The only sound was the snow crunching under their feet.

Nora leaned into Rush as they walked to the cabin.

Crack!

The gunshot sprayed the snow a foot from them.

Someone had been lying in wait, Rush realized. To get her. To get them.

“Run!” When Nora obeyed his command, he ushered her behind a tree.

Another shot fired, this one splintering the bark, and he fired back. Grabbing Nora’s hand, he hauled her into the woods with him.

When they’d made it deep inside, the firing stopped.

“Now what do we do?” Nora asked, her panting breath coming out in plumes in the cold night.

Either the shooter had given up...or he was tracking them quietly. Stalking them.

“We double back to the chalet and call for backup,” he told her.

But his deputy sheriff’s mind reeled with the potential danger. With a list of potential suspects. Someone had planned this attack carefully. Could be anyone. Nora’s mother had had a slew of deadly secrets...

And now one of them was out to get Nora.

Dear Reader,

When I think about Jesus, I think about how He was born into scandal. How many people believed that a young girl who was betrothed to another man really was carrying the Son of God? I’m sure there were whispers all His life about how His mother must have “stepped out” on Joseph. Yet Joseph married her anyway—thanks to a dream from God. He loved her amidst the rumors. I wanted to write about that.

Nora was born into scandal. She lived in that shadow for so long. Rumors. But not only did Joshua—her adopted father—love her as his own, God loved her as His very own. God loves you. You are His very own. No matter what your background, what you were born into or what happened to you that you had no control over. You can come out from under that shadow and live in the light through the sweet, healing love of Jesus. You can be free to be who you are meant to be in Christ.

I love to hear from readers. Please email me at: jessica@jessicarpatch.com and visit my website at www.jessicarpatch.com. Don’t forget to sign up for my newsletter, Patched In, to receive book news, sales and freebies while you’re there!

Merry Christmas,

Jessica

The name of the Lord is a strong tower: the righteous runneth into it, and is safe.

—Proverbs 18:10

To the lonely and fearful hearts. God sees. He knows. He loves you and is always for you. Stand firm in your faith and trust He’s working on your behalf. Perfect love casts out all fear.

As always, thank you to...

my brainstorming partner and rough draft reader, Susan Tuttle; my wonderful agent, Rachel Kent; and my brilliant editor, Shana Asaro. It takes a village to birth a book. Thank you for being my village!

Special thanks to: Michael Fagin at West Coast Weather for helping me with the forensic meteorology portion of the story. Any mistakes or stretches I made for fictional purposes are all on me! You were wonderful to talk to and provided a plethora of information. I appreciate your time in answering all of my questions thoroughly and professionally.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

Extract

About the Publisher

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.