SOME SECRETS ARE MEANT TO STAY BURIED

Laura Webber is determined to uncover the truth behind her parents’ murders. But after being interviewed about the unsolved case, she’s abducted and dumped in the Mississippi River with a warning to stop digging up the past. With her life in jeopardy, she knows that her former fiancé, Brad Austin, is the only person she can turn to for help. The cold-case detective has spent years trying to forget Laura, yet he can’t turn her away. But before Brad can wrap her in his protection, will their reunion be cut short by a killer threatening to silence Laura forever?

The Cold Case Files: Uncovering secrets of the past

Laura cast one last terrified glance around the parking lot and took a deep breath. “We’ve got to get out of here. They’re watching us.”

Brad’s frown deepened. “Who’s watching us?”

“The man who abducted me last night. He knew I’d been to the police, and he knew what I was wearing.”

Brad steered her back toward the car. “Get in the car, Laura. I need to get you out of here.”

Once inside he cranked the engine and roared from the parking lot. As he sped down the street, he looked in the rearview mirror from time to time. “I don’t think we’re being followed. I don’t know who these guys are, but we’ll do our best to find out. Until we do, I want you to lie low, and let us do our job.”

She stared out the window without answering him. For years she had convinced herself she could live with the unanswered questions about her parents’ deaths, but now she knew that was impossible.

The events of last night and today had propelled her past a point of no return, and now she wouldn’t give up until she had the answers she’d craved.

SANDRA ROBBINS,

a former teacher and principal in the Tennessee public schools, is a full-time writer for the Christian market. She is married to her college sweetheart, and they have four children and five grandchildren. As a child, Sandra accepted Jesus as her Savior and has depended on Him to guide her throughout her life.

While working as a principal, Sandra came in contact with many individuals who were so burdened with problems that they found it difficult to function in their everyday lives. Her writing ministry grew out of the need for hope that she saw in the lives of those around her.

It is her prayer that God will use her words to plant seeds of hope in the lives of her readers. Her greatest desire is that many will come to know the peace she draws from her life verse, Isaiah 40:31. “But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary; they will walk and not be faint.”

Dangerous Waters

Sandra Robbins

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

But I will hope continually,

and will yet praise thee more and more.

—Psalms 71:14

To my sisters Pam, Fran and Sandy for all your encouragement and support

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

DEAR READER

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

EXCERPT

ONE

Even though Laura Webber had watched the prerecorded television interview on the six o’clock news, she couldn’t wait to see the repeat at ten. She’d spent the time between the broadcasts finishing up paperwork in her office at the hospital, and then switched on the television to catch it again on the late news. She stared at her pale face on the screen and wondered how her friend and roommate, Grace Kincaid, had ever talked her into doing that interview.

She’d promised herself when she’d returned to Memphis she wouldn’t dredge up the memories she’d lived with for the past nineteen years. And yet, there she was on the most watched television station in the city telling how her parents had died in a car bomb explosion when she was ten years old.

Grace, ever the professional reporter, stared into the camera to close the interview. “The deaths of Lawrence Webber and his wife, Madeline, are one of the many unsolved cases that have prompted local authorities to establish a new Cold Case unit within the police department. The Webbers are but one family who hopes they will soon have answers concerning the fates of their loved ones. I am Grace Kincaid reporting for WKIZ-TV. Thank you for watching.”

Laura pressed the remote to switch off the television, leaned forward and folded her arms on her desk. At first she hadn’t wanted to do the interview. The memory of seeing the car bomb explode and engulf her parents in flames still haunted her. Grace had reasoned with her that people needed to be reminded that a federal prosecutor and his wife had been murdered while his children watched, and she was right. It felt good to know she had told her parents’ story.

She glanced at the clock and jumped to her feet. Time to get home. If she was to make it to her early appointments with clients at Cornerstone Clinic in the morning, she needed some sleep. She grabbed her purse hanging on the back of her chair and slid its strap over her shoulder. A chill rippled down her spine as a thought flashed in her mind. The next hospital shift wouldn’t occur for another hour. The parking lot would be deserted this late.

Her chin dipped against her chest, and she covered her face with her hands. Through the years she’d thought of what she’d lost that summer day years ago when her parents’ car exploded, but it was what she’d gained that kept her awake at nights—the fear that someone was watching her and her brother, just waiting for the chance to annihilate her entire family.

After a moment, she took a deep breath, switched off her office lights and headed for the parking lot. Before stepping outside the hospital, she peered through the door’s glass at the dark shadows covering the asphalt beyond the exit. Several streetlights appeared to be out of order. She squinted into the distance trying to remember where she’d parked her car. With the lot filled when she arrived earlier this afternoon, she hadn’t been able to get her spot near the building. Scanning the area, she finally spotted her vehicle underneath one of the poles that burned brightly. The distance between where she stood and her car seemed to grow as she stared at it. After a moment she squared her shoulders, stepped from the building and walked toward her car. Her gaze didn’t waver as she moved.

Halfway to her destination, the sound of a car door closing echoed across the parking lot, and she froze in place. She cast a glance around but didn’t see anyone. A footstep echoed off the asphalt. Was it her imagination, or was someone out there?

She dug in her purse for her keys as she bolted toward her car. Without warning an arm circled her waist and squeezed the breath from her. A hand clamped a cloth over her mouth and nose, blocking the scream rising in her throat. Twisting and kicking, she tried to loosen her attacker’s grip, but it was no use. Dizziness swept over her, and she struggled against it. But there was nothing to ward off the darkness that enveloped her.

* * *

Disoriented, she awoke with a start. Where was she? How long had she been out? She strained to catch a glimpse of something in the inky darkness that surrounded her, but she could see nothing. She blinked, and her eyelashes brushed against something.

She lay on her side, her arms behind her back. With a tug, she tried to pull her hands to her chest, but something cut into her wrists. She moaned in pain as the truth began to seep into her head. She couldn’t see because a blindfold covered her eyes, and she couldn’t move because her hands were tied behind her back.

What had happened? Bits and pieces of memory trickled into her brain. The hospital—she had left after watching the interview on TV and walked toward her car. But she didn’t recall getting in it.

Then she remembered a cloth over her nose, a man’s arm around her waist. Fear rose in her throat. She had broken the first rule she gave crime victims in her counseling sessions—always be mindful of your surroundings. But she hadn’t been. Not until it was too late.

Now she lay blindfolded and bound somewhere. She stilled and listened for any clue that might give a hint of her surroundings. The steady hum of an engine and the slapping of tires on pavement answered her question. She was in some kind of vehicle heading toward an unknown destination.

She strained to pull her hands free, but it was no use. Her head jerked at the sharp slap to her face. “It’s no use, Laura,” a man’s voice whispered in her ear. “You can’t get loose.”

The smell of tobacco and alcohol assaulted her nostrils and she gagged. Then cold fear shot through her veins. He knew her name. This was no random abduction. It was personal.

“Wh-what do you want with me?” Her dry throat burned so that the words were barely more than a whisper.

“I want to talk to you about your television interview.”

Her heart pounded, and she tried to swallow but her mouth had gone dry. “Wh-what about it?”

Something sharp nicked the skin beneath her chin. Laura tried to pull back from the knife’s tip, but the man pressed it closer. “Some people I know don’t want you talking about what happened. They think it’s better to bury the past. What do you think?”

Tears rolled down her face. “What are you going to do to me?”

He laughed, and the sound sent chill bumps down her spine. “I’m going to make sure you don’t talk to anybody else about that car bomb that killed your parents. Your search for answers is going to stop tonight. Understand?”

There was no denying what his words insinuated. He intended to kill her. Her body shook, but she pushed back the groans that rumbled in her throat. The vehicle came to a stop, and another man’s voice cut through the silence. “We’re here. Get it over with quick.”

Before she realized what was happening, she was jerked from the vehicle and stood upright. A man’s hand grasped her upper arm so tightly she thought it might cut off her circulation. He reached behind and yanked the ties from her around her hands. She pulled her hands up and rubbed her wrists.

Her knees threatened to collapse at the nudge of a gun against her back. “Now walk forward,” he muttered. “And don’t look back. Just walk.”

“P-please,” she begged.

“Walk,” he snarled and pushed her forward.

Laura took a hesitant step and then another. Cold water seeped through the soles of her shoes, but she stumbled on. Her heart beat faster every time she moved. Would this step be her last?

A sound like water lapping against a shore reached her ears, and she shuddered at the familiar sound. He had brought her to the bank of the Mississippi River. Now she understood. A shot in the back, and her body would float downriver toward the Gulf of Mexico and never be seen again.

She clenched her fists and thought of her brother, Mark, his wife, Betsy, and their new daughter, Amanda, on Ocracoke Island. She’d never see them again. “God,” she whispered, “watch over my family. Don’t let them grieve for me.”

Cold water rolled over her feet, and she hesitated. “Keep walking,” the voice yelled.

She took another step and knew she now stood in the river. She inched forward until the water reached her knees, but the shot still didn’t come. Suddenly a motor cranked and tires squealed. She held her breath and waited, but nothing happened.

With shaking hands she reached up, pulled the blindfold from her eyes and turned to stare to her left. The lights of Memphis blinked in the distance. The bridge that connected the city to Arkansas lit the night, and she could see cars whizzing along its roadway. It only took her a moment to figure out that she’d been brought to the northern end of Mud Island.

She turned slowly and stared behind her. There was no one there, and no vehicle sat at the side of the road. With tears streaming down her face she waded out of the water and collapsed on her hands and knees on the riverbank. A combination of fear and relief surged through her body, and she gulped great breaths of air into her lungs.

The melody of “Can’t Help Falling in Love,” her favorite Elvis song and the ringtone on her cell phone, pierced the darkness. She stumbled to her feet and headed toward the sound. Her purse lay in the grass about ten feet from the water’s edge.

She pulled her phone from the purse and rammed it to her ear. “Hello?”

The voice that had chilled her in the vehicle drifted into her ear. “This was a warning, Laura. Let the past go, or next time you won’t be so lucky.” She cringed at the evil chuckle ringing in her ear. “Be sure and check the local news in the morning. They say history repeats itself. Just make sure it doesn’t happen to you, too.”

The caller disconnected. Laura pulled the phone from her ear and stared at it. After a moment she sank to her knees again, wrapped her arms around her waist and wailed until she was exhausted. Then she pushed to her feet and began to walk toward the lights of Memphis.

* * *

Brad Austin yawned and rubbed the back of his neck as he strode down the hall at police headquarters. He’d been up all night, and he was exhausted. But there was no time to rest. He hadn’t thought this job as one of the detectives heading the new Cold Case unit would be as demanding as his former detective job, but so far it had kept him even busier.

He glanced at his watch and frowned. 7:00 a.m. He’d been at the hospital since eleven last night. If Seth and Alex, his partners, were in the office, he’d bring them up to speed on the Nathan Carson lead before he headed back to either the hospital or to the medical examiner’s office, depending on whether Carson lived or died.

As Brad walked past the break room, he smelled coffee. That’s what he needed right now. He stepped inside, poured himself a cup and sipped the hot liquid as he thought back over the events of the past few days.

Three days ago he’d received a telephone call from a man who identified himself as Nathan Carson, longtime accountant for a local crime family headed by Tony Lynch. Brad had been interested immediately because every cop in town wanted to take down the Lynch organization. Now with Tony retired and living in Florida, a new leader had risen from the ranks, but so far his identity had remained a secret.

At first Brad had been skeptical, but when Carson offered to identify the new leader of the family, he became interested. In addition, Carson also claimed to have information about the five-year-old cold case of a murdered undercover policeman for the Drug Task Force found on the banks of the Mississippi River in Memphis. He hinted at knowing what the officer had discovered shortly before he was killed. That statement had been enough to convince Brad this could be the lead he’d been waiting for.

Only the police and the FBI who’d been called in after the murder knew about the officer’s last message to his superiors before his death. He’d discovered that drugs were but one of the Lynch family’s businesses. Another was the transportation and sale of illegal aliens along the Mississippi.

Carson had promised to meet with Brad at his office today. That wasn’t going to happen now because Nathan Carson’s car had exploded in a ball of flames last night when he’d turned the ignition in the parking garage of the office building where he worked. Now he fought for his life in one of the city’s best trauma units.

Brad narrowed his eyes and shook his head. He didn’t believe in coincidences. What were the odds that two cold cases with suspected ties to the Lynch organization could be connected by a car bomb? The bomb squad had the remains of last night’s bomb right now, and he could hardly wait to find out if it bore any resemblance to the one that had killed federal prosecutor Lawrence Webber and his wife nineteen years ago.

That case was another of the files that had been turned over to him when he’d taken this new job, and for personal reasons he’d like to see it solved more than any other. He drained the last drop of his coffee and threw the disposable cup in the trash before he headed down the hall.

As he approached his office, a uniformed officer stepped out and closed the door. “Good morning, Officer Johnson,” Brad said. “What can I do for you this morning?”

The man jerked his thumb toward the closed door. “Late last night patrol picked up a woman they spotted walking from the direction of the boat ramp on Mud Island. They brought her to the station, but she insisted she could only talk to you. I just left her in your office.”

“What she was doing out there alone late at night?”

The officer shook his head. “I have no idea. Wouldn’t tell us a thing except she had information about one of your cold cases.” He glanced down at his watch. “I’m off duty, and I’m ready to go home.”

“I wish I could go home,” Brad said with a sigh. “But it looks like my day is off to a good start. Are Seth and Alex in yet?”

“Didn’t see ’em.”

“Well, thanks for bringing the woman down here. I’ll see what she wants.”

Brad opened the door and stepped into the office. The woman sat slumped over the desk in his cubicle. Her head was buried in her crossed arms on top of the desk, and she didn’t stir as he closed the door. She appeared to be sound asleep.

He cleared his throat, but she didn’t move. He waited a moment before he crossed to where she sat and stopped beside her. “May I help you?” he asked.

A soft snore was the only response he received.

Brad grasped her shoulder and gave a gentle shake. “May I help you?” he repeated in a louder voice.

A scream tore from her mouth, and she jumped to her feet. She recoiled against the desk and stared at him with wild eyes. Then she relaxed and let out a long breath. “Oh, thank goodness, it’s you, Brad.”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He winced at the pain in his stomach that felt as if he’d been kicked. It couldn’t be. Laura? What was she doing in his office?

His heart beat so hard he feared it might jump out of his chest. He staggered backward a step and shook his head. “I can’t believe it. What are you doing here?”

Her brow drew into a weary frown, and she rubbed her hands over her eyes. “I know you’re shocked to see me, but after what happened to me last night, I had to see you.”

For a moment all he could do was stare in shock at her, then his gaze drifted over her body. Her red eyes and the way she sagged against the desk suggested she was near exhaustion. Dried mud caked the pants and top of the blue scrubs she wore, and her shoes looked like she’d waded through a swamp.

She closed her eyes and swayed on her feet. He stopped himself before he reached out to steady her, then berated himself for not doing so. Even if there was some history between them, she was a victim according to Officer Johnson, and he was a cop. She deserved the courtesy he’d give any other person in need of help.

Brad grasped her arm and eased her back toward her chair. “You look exhausted. Sit down before you fall down.”

A weak smile pulled at her lips, and she allowed him to guide her back into the chair. “Thank you, Brad. I know this is a shock for you to find me here, but I had to see you.”

After she was settled, he pulled a chair up from the other side of the room and sat down facing her. “I didn’t even know you were in Memphis. One of the officers said you were found walking on Mud Island last night. What happened?”

Her face crumpled, and big tears rolled down her face. “Oh, Brad, it was awful. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

No matter how much he’d tried through the years to steel himself when a victim started crying, he’d never been able to ignore a woman’s tears. The fact that this was a woman he’d once been engaged to only made it tougher. He swallowed hard and glanced around for the box of tissues he and his partners kept in the office for times like this.

He pulled one out and handed it to her. “Take your time. Just tell me when you feel up to it.”

She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “Let me start by asking if you saw Grace’s interview on the news last night.”

He frowned and shook his head. “No. Who did she interview?”

“Me.”

“You? What...I mean, I don’t understand.” He shook his head in dismay. “Whoa, Laura. Back up here. How long have you been back in Memphis? It must have been some time if there’s something Grace needs to interview you about.”

She glanced down at her hands and twisted her fingers together. “I’ve been back for over a year now. Grace and I share a house in midtown Memphis. It works for us because she’s close to the television station, and I’m near Cornerstone Clinic where I work.”

He sagged back in his chair, his mouth gaping open. “A year? And you didn’t let me know? What do you do at Cornerstone?”

“I’m a forensic nurse. I counsel patients there, and we contract with the hospital and the police to counsel crime victims. I really enjoy this work.”

He stared at her a moment, trying to digest what she’d just told him. “I can’t believe I didn’t know this. I’ve seen Grace reporting at several crime scenes in the past year, and she never said a thing about you being back.”

Her face flushed. “I asked her not to tell you if she ran into you.”

“Why not? I thought she was my friend, too. At least she was all the time we were in school together.” A feeling of betrayal flowed over him as the angry words spewed from his mouth.

“Oh, she is, Brad. But I didn’t want her put in the position of having to explain my presence in Memphis to you. After all, we didn’t part on the best of terms.”

A snort of disgust rumbled in his throat. “That’s putting it mildly.”

She sighed and straightened in her seat. “Well, no matter what happened in the past, you’re a detective in the police department, and I need your help.”

Brad took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right. There’s no changing what happened in the past. So let’s deal with the present. Tell me what happened to you last night.”

She looked as if she might say something else, but instead she bit down on her lip and nodded. “I should never have let Grace talk me into doing that interview about my parents’ murders.”

“What?” He scooted to the edge of his seat, his eyes wide. “Don’t tell me you went on television and talked about the car bombing.”

“I did. It was totally the wrong thing to do.”

A sick feeling started in the pit of his stomach, and he swallowed back the bitter taste flooding his mouth. “That’s an understatement. What happened?”

He listened as she related the events of the night before. With each word his heart sank, and he balled his hands into fists at the look of fear in her eyes. She wiped at a tear as she told him how she’d stood in the river with the water nearly to her knees as she’d waited to die, and he clasped his hands together to stop the shaking. He could visualize how she must have looked as she waded from the river and fell on the bank.

“I started walking. I thought I might be able to make it back to the hospital where my car was parked, but the two police officers happened to drive by. They picked me up and brought me downtown.”

When she finished, Brad sat silently as he tried to relax and get his heartbeat back to normal. Finally he spoke. “So you never saw the face of your abductors?”

“No.”

“When the man spoke to you, was there anything familiar about his voice?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“And he told you there would be something on the news about history repeating itself?”

“Yes. It was like a threat that the same thing could happen to me. But I haven’t heard the news today. Do you know what it might be?”

He waved his hand in dismissal. “It doesn’t matter right now.” He let his gaze drift over her again. “Why didn’t you tell the officers who picked you up what had happened?”

Her face flushed. “Because I was afraid. I don’t want word to get back to these people that I talked with the police. I knew I could trust you to tell me what I should do.”

He scowled at her. “I wish you had asked before you did that interview. I would have told you not to do it.”

She sighed. “I figured that out for myself when I woke up and found myself tied up and blindfolded. What do you think I should do now?”

He studied her for a moment. “When was the last time you ate?”

She thought for a moment. “Yesterday at lunch. I didn’t have time for dinner last night.”

He pushed to his feet. “Then the first thing we need to do is get you fed. I know a place that serves a great breakfast.”

She stood up. “But I don’t have time for that. I have to go home and get ready for work.”

“You’re not going to work today. Call in and tell them while I check with my partners about covering a case for me.”

She shook her head. “Brad, really I don’t have time, and I don’t want to take you away from your other cases.”

“Laura,” he snarled, “don’t argue with me. You have just come on the radar of some very dangerous people, and we need to talk about this some more. So whether you like it or not, for the time being we’re stuck like glue. Later we’ll figure out what we need to do to keep you safe.” He pointed a finger at her. “Now call your boss while I get in touch with my partners, then we’ll go to breakfast.”

He strode from the office and closed the door behind him. He walked a few steps down the hall before he stopped, leaned against the wall and punched in the number of Alex Crowne, his partner.

“Hello.”

“Alex, Brad here. I’ve got a problem at the station, and I need you and Seth to cover for me with the Nathan Carson case at the hospital. Can you do that?”

“Sure. Anything we can help you with at the station?”

He started to tell him about Laura, but Alex still held some resentment toward her. “No, I can handle this. I just think someone needs to be there if Carson regains consciousness. He claimed on the phone to have information about the undercover policeman’s death five years ago. If he can talk, see if you can find out what it is. And see if you can get him to tell you who is running Tony Lynch’s organization now.”

“Will do. I’ll check in with you later.”

“Yeah, later.”

Brad ended the call and turned to go back to his office. He hesitated with his hand on the knob and took a deep breath. Spending the day with Laura wasn’t at the top of his list of things he wanted to do, but there wasn’t much he could do about it right now.

The murders of her parents might be a cold case, but it was an open secret within law enforcement that Tony Lynch’s organization, the same group suspected in Nathan Carson’s attempted murder, had been responsible.

The only problem was that there was no evidence to prove it since Tony’s henchmen made it a rule to never leave any evidence behind. Which left the question—why did they try to kill Carson and only threaten Laura?

The only way he might figure it out was to stay close to Laura and try to protect her when Tony’s men came to finish the job they started last night.

TWO

Fifteen minutes later Laura stared at Brad over the top of her coffee cup and searched his features for any changes since she’d last seen him. She had to admit he was still the most handsome man she’d ever known. His dark unruly hair still tumbled across his forehead, and he pushed it back with his hand every so often, just as he’d always done. His brown eyes didn’t sparkle as much as she remembered, but she supposed the things he saw on a daily basis in his job could darken any man’s soul.

He stared at her from across the table. “So, you’ve been back for over a year, and you share a house with Grace Kincaid.”

“Yes, Grace has always been my best friend, and we kept in touch after I moved to North Carolina.”

Brad nodded. “I know. She used to tell me how you were doing when I would see her. I guess that’s why it surprised me that she kept your return to Memphis a secret.”

“I explained that.”

He exhaled and picked up his cup. “Yeah, you did. Anyway, it’s good to see you. I’m sorry it was under these circumstances, though.”

“It’s good to see you, too. I read in the paper that you and Alex and another detective had been appointed to head up the new Cold Case unit for the police department. I’m glad to see you and Alex doing so well. Of course, I knew from the time I met you during our freshman year in high school you would be successful. The director must have a lot of confidence in you to give you such a promotion.”

Brad shrugged. “Maybe, but I really like this new work. It’s giving me a chance to bring closure to a lot of families who didn’t get answers.” He stared at her for a moment. “Grace told me about a year ago that she thought you’d finally made peace with the past and could accept your parents’ deaths. What made you do that interview with her and open up all these old wounds?”

Laura wrapped her fingers around her coffee mug and stared at the dark Colombian blend. “I thought I’d moved on, but I guess I haven’t. I don’t suppose I ever will until the killers are brought to justice. Can you understand that?”

“I can. I hear it every day from other families, but they’re not being threatened by people who want to kill them. You made yourself a target when you did that interview.”

She nodded. “I didn’t think about it at the time, but I did when I was standing in the river.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Grace’s station had been reporting about your new unit, and she thought it might give the story a personal twist if viewers could hear from a family member wanting a case solved.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Well, I can’t say I like the twist your story took afterward.”

The waitress approached with their breakfast, and they fell silent as she set their plates in front of them. Laura clasped her hands in front of her on the table, bowed her head and closed her eyes. When she opened them, Brad stared at her as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just seen.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Since when did you become religious?”

She smiled and put her napkin on her lap. “It’s not a question of being religious, Brad. The truth is I turned my life over to God, and I live my life in faith. I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life.”

“What does your brother think about that?”

“He approves. Especially since he’s done the same thing, thanks to the influence of his wife.” Brad shrugged and began to spread jam on a piece of toast. “I guess whatever makes you happy is fine. You know I’ve never had any reason to believe in God. I don’t need God or anybody else in my life.”

Her forehead wrinkled. “You sound cynical. I hope I’m not the reason for that. I’m sorry for what happened between us six years ago. I’ve wanted to ask you to forgive me for a long time, but I didn’t think I’d ever have the nerve to face you.”

His eyes narrowed. “I can understand why. I loved you, Laura, from the first day I saw you at school. We were a couple from then on. I would have done anything to make you happy, and you gave back my ring and walked out on me without a backward glance.”

His words were tinged with hurt, and Laura wanted to make him understand what had driven her to do what she did. She set her fork down on her plate and clasped her hands on her lap. “I might have been twenty-three years old when I left Memphis, but I still felt like the ten-year-old girl who’d seen her parents bombed in that car. My brother, Mark, carried the same scars I did, and he wanted me to come live with him in Raleigh. He thought we could help each other. I left for your sake as well as mine.”

“That’s what you told me, but I wanted to help you, Laura.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Oh, I know you did, but I felt like I had to find my own peace. It wasn’t fair for me to saddle you with all my baggage. You didn’t deserve that. I left here as much for you as for myself.”

He grimaced and a grunt of disgust rumbled in his throat. “I’m afraid I didn’t see it that way.”

She tilted her head to one side and stared at him. “I’m sorry I hurt you, but it was the right decision for us both.”

He picked up his fork and scooped up some eggs. “Well, as they say, that’s all water under the bridge now. I recovered and moved on.” He pointed to her plate. “Let’s eat our breakfast. Then we have to figure out what we’re going to do about keeping you safe.”

Laura stared at Brad for a moment before she poured syrup on her pancakes and began to eat. In the time she and Brad had been talking, she’d sensed a change in him. Instead of the caring man she remembered, he seemed distant and jaded. Had she caused that change in him, or was it his job?

A groan of approval rippled from her throat as she swallowed her first bite of pancake. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was. “Thank you for bringing me here and thank you for wanting to help me.”

He paused with his fork halfway to his mouth and set it back on his plate. Then he cleared his throat before he looked up at her. “It’s my job, Laura. Don’t read something personal in what I’m doing for you. I would do it for anyone needing help. Now eat your breakfast, and then we’ll go by your house and get you some clean clothes.”

The rebuff felt like a slap in the face, and she struggled not to let her face betray how his words had hurt. After a moment she took a deep breath and nodded. “I understand. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know I was back, but I knew you didn’t want to talk to me. When I saw the article in the paper that you were heading up the cold case department, I wanted to ask you to look into my parents’ case again. Then I decided it was better to let it go, that maybe it wasn’t meant for me to know who killed them.”

He gave no reaction to her words. “Then why did you agree to that interview?”

“Coming back to Memphis triggered a lot of memories for me, and it makes me angry that the people who killed my parents are still out there somewhere. I thought doing the interview might make somebody who knows something about it step forward. I didn’t think that it might also get me killed.”

He exhaled and raked his hand through his hair. “It scares me to think how close you came to that happening. But you’d better think about what you really want before you get back on that emotional roller coaster you were on before you ran away.”

“I’m afraid of that, too,” she whispered.

He leaned forward. “If it means anything to you, one of the first things I did when I went to work in the unit was to pull the files on your parents’ deaths and look them over.”

Her heart pounded and she sat up straight. “Did you find anything?”

He shook his head. “No. I didn’t find anything at the time, but it wouldn’t hurt to take another look. Your abduction may give us some leads.”

“Like what?”

“We’ll question hospital personnel to find out if anybody saw a vehicle leaving the parking lot at the time of your attack. We’ll trace the cell phone number of the call you received. Either of those things might lead to something.”

“Thank you, Brad.”

He shook his head. “You don’t have to thank me. It’s my job to work on the cold cases we’ve been handed. But it’s not going to be easy for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve always been a little headstrong, Laura, but listen to me. You don’t want me to start something if you’re not willing to see it through no matter where it leads.”

“I know that.”

He shook his head. “No, you think you know that, but cold case investigations can take years. Are you prepared to wait out the time it takes to see this to the end?”

She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. “I am.”

He sighed and nodded. “Okay. Let’s finish our breakfast, and we’ll go pick up your car at the hospital. Then I think we need to go by your house and let you get cleaned up. I’ll take you back to my office. If you’d like, I can pull your parents’ file, and we’ll look through it.”

“I’d like that. Thank you, Brad.”

“And another thing. I think you’re going to need some protection. I have to figure out how we’re going to do that.”

She started to protest that she didn’t need protection, but the memory of a gun pressed to her back and an evil laugh kept her from speaking. Brad was the trained police officer, and she needed to listen to him. He might not like her very much, but she knew he would do everything possible to protect her.

When she’d agreed to do that interview for Grace, she had no idea that it would lead her into danger. But even more surprising was the fact that her abduction had further fueled the desire she’d tried to suppress for years—to find out who hated her parents enough to kill them.

Now the fire she’d thought extinguished burned in her stomach again, and she wouldn’t rest until she had the answers she’d wanted since she was ten years old.

* * *

After showing Brad to the den, Laura disappeared into her bedroom, where she’d been for the past forty-five minutes. With three sisters in the house when he was growing up, Brad never had been able to figure out what took women so long to take a shower and get dressed.

With a sigh he leaned back on the sofa and flipped through the television channels. He never had a chance to watch TV in the morning, so he had no idea there were so many talk shows on. He punched the remote again just as his cell phone rang. The number displayed was from the local FBI office.

He muted the volume on the TV and raised the phone to his ear. “Detective Austin.”

“Brad? This is Bill Diamond. I just heard about Nathan Carson. How is he?”

Brad eased back into the couch cushions and sighed. “I don’t know, Bill. The last I heard they were taking him to surgery. The detectives from homicide were on their way to question his wife, so I left. My two partners should be at the hospital now.”

There was silence on the line for a moment until Bill spoke again. “So you’re not at the hospital now?”

“No.”

“When you head back downtown, why don’t you take a detour by here? Let’s put our heads together on this case and see if we’ve missed anything.”

“I can’t right now. I’m on another case. Is there anything we can discuss over the phone?”

“I think so. Hold on a minute. I want to check on something.”

Brad heard a desk drawer open and close, then the rustling of papers. As he waited patiently for Bill to speak again, he thought of the first time he’d met Bill. It was soon after the agent had been assigned to the FBI’s Memphis office, and they’d become friends right away. The man’s no-nonsense attitude had served him well as he’d risen through the ranks of the agency, and Brad was glad he’d been placed in charge of the office in Memphis.

“Okay, I’m back,” Bill said. “I wanted to get out the file I’m keeping on Nathan Carson.”

Brad took a deep breath and blew it out.

“The bureau has been watching Carson for a year now. He may have known that and decided to call you because he wanted to get some kind of deal before he was arrested. We believe he holds the key to catching the ring of human traffickers we’ve been after for years. When you told me he had called you, I thought we might be on our way to shutting down Lynch at last. Now Carson’s in the hospital fighting for his life.”

Brad nodded. “Somebody had to know he was meeting with me today, but I can’t figure out how they could have known. The only people who knew were my partners and you. How could anybody else have found out?”

“Who knows? They might have his phones bugged, or there could be someone planted in his office to keep an eye on him.”

Brad’s fingers tightened on his cell phone. “Are you sure the case he wanted to talk to me about is connected to your human trafficking ring?’

“It just makes sense that it is. An undercover cop discovers Lynch’s organization is dealing in illegal aliens. He’s murdered and left on the riverbank. Then we have no leads for five years, even though we’ve had several unidentified bodies found along the Double Nickel.”

Brad frowned. “Double Nickel? Is that some kind of bureau talk?”

Bill’s laugh rippled into Brad’s ear. “No. We’ve known for years that smugglers are bringing in illegal aliens on ships down on the Gulf coast. Some of them are sent up the Mississippi River on boats and others are transported on trucks up Interstate 55, which is called the Double Nickel by smugglers of both drugs and humans. The sad thing is, the people who are being brought in paid these people good money to get them into the States. What they don’t find out until it’s too late is that the men are bound for big farms in the West where they’ll be treated like slaves, and the women will end up in brothels.”

Brad’s stomach roiled. He’d heard these stories from agents for years, and it sickened him that the smugglers always seemed to be one step ahead of the police. Just like with Nathan Carson. Just when they had what looked like a promising lead, someone beat them to Nathan.

“What do you intend to do now?”

Bill sighed. “I talked to the director of the police department. They don’t have the manpower to keep a guard posted outside Nathan’s room twenty-four hours a day, but we can do that. If Nathan makes it through surgery, we’ll have someone guarding him 24-7. I don’t want anybody getting to him, and I want to know the minute he regains consciousness.”

Brad pushed up from the sofa and raked his hand through his hair. “That sounds good, but I need to tell you something else.”

“What?”

“I told you I’m working on another case right now. I think it may be linked to the Carson case, too.”

When he’d finished relating the facts in the unsolved case of the Webber murders and of Laura’s abduction the night before, Bill gave a low whistle. “The car bombings sound like more than a coincidence. Maybe both cases are tied to Tony Lynch and his organization.”

“That’s what I think. I’m going to look into the Webber case again and see what I can find out. With any luck we may be able to close two cold case files and catch your human traffickers at the same time.”

Bill chuckled. “That sounds like a mighty tall order, but nothing would make me happier. Let’s stay in touch.”

“Okay. Talk with you later.”

Brad ended the call and stared at the phone a moment before he punched in another number. It only rang once before his partner answered. “Detective Crowne speaking.”

“Hi, Alex. It’s Brad.”

“What can I do for you, buddy?”

“I’ve been on the phone with Bill Diamond and wondered if you’d had any word on Nathan Carson’s condition in the past hour.”

“No, I’m in the hospital waiting room right now, and he’s still in surgery. I suppose the longer he hangs on, the better his chances of survival.”

Brad nodded and glanced at his watch. “That surgery sure is taking a long time, but he had a lot of injuries. I’m working on something else right now, so keep me posted.”

“No problem. Seth and I will see you later.”

“Alex?” Brad blurted out in an attempt to keep him from hanging up.

“Yeah. Is there something else?”

Brad bit down on his lip a minute and hesitated. “Nothing really. I thought I’d let you know Laura is back in town.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a moment. “She is? Have you seen her?”

“Yeah. That other case I’m working on involves her. I’ll tell you all about it when you get to the office.”

Alex hesitated before he spoke. “Okay. And how did you react when you saw her?”

“I’m all right. She wants us to reopen her parents’ case.”

“Well, it’s officially an active case. What did you tell her?”

“I told her we would.” Brad closed his eyes and rubbed his hand over his face. “Look, we’ll discuss this later. I just wanted to let you know we’re going to take a closer look at it.”

“Sure. I’m up for that.”

“See you later.”

Brad ended the call and sat back down on the sofa. Maybe he could get Alex or Seth to take over the case. Then he wouldn’t have to see Laura. She would probably like that better, too.

It would be more comfortable for them both if they kept their relationship in the past where it belonged. He felt a surge of relief. That’s what he’d do—turn Laura over to Alex and Seth. He would tell her he had too many cases right now to devote the time needed for her parents’ murders.

On the other hand, he had nothing to fear about being around Laura. Their relationship had been over for six years, and there was no way either one of them wanted to resurrect something that was as dead as their feelings for each other. As a detective with the Cold Case unit, though, he owed her his help. But if he was honest with himself, he owed her for another reason.

He couldn’t count the number of hours in the past he’d spent listening to Laura talk about the morning she had watched her parents’ car explode right before her eyes. At times her anger and grief had reduced her to hysterics that were only calmed by his holding her in his arms and telling her he’d always be there for her. He’d meant it when he gave that promise, and he wouldn’t take it back now.

If Laura wanted to find the answers to her parents’ deaths, he would help her. He wanted to be there when they found out the truth.

THREE

Brad didn’t speak as he led Laura down the police station’s basement hallway. Within this part of the building all the evidence in the department’s cold cases sat on shelves, just waiting for someone to find the answers to these unsolved crimes. A feeling of despair washed over Laura at the thought that other families still waited for answers that might never come.

Laura followed quietly behind Brad and stared at his straight back and fists clenched at his side. Did he regret telling her she could look through the evidence in her parents’ case? When he had offered, she could hardly believe it. For years she’d wanted to see what the police had discovered during their investigation, and yet she’d feared seeing it, also.

Brad stopped at a closed door and pushed it open. He turned toward her, and a look of concern flashed across his face. “What’s the matter? You look like you’re having second thoughts.”

She swallowed back the uncertainty that washed over her and took a deep breath. It was time to deal with the past. She pushed past him into the room. “I’ll be okay.”

A long conference table with chairs on either side stretched nearly the length of the small room, but it was what sat in the center of the table that demanded her attention—a cardboard box with the words WEBBER EVIDENCE written on its side. She pressed her fist to her mouth and groaned.

This was what was left of her parents’ lives, a box containing evidence from the scene where they died. Could she really do this? Could she look through the words that investigators had written years ago? To them it had been just another crime scene, and they had probably recorded it in a cold, analytical reporting of the facts. To her, though, it was something more than that.

Maybe she’d been wrong to insist on seeing this. She closed her eyes for a moment and said a silent prayer for strength to follow through on what she had started. She owed it to her parents to get past how uncomfortable she might feel and look at it as a mission to gain punishment for whoever had committed the horrible deed.

“Laura, are you all right?” Brad’s voice brought her back to reality.

She took a deep breath and nodded. “I am. Just had a weak moment.”

His hand touched her arm. “You don’t have to do this.”

She turned to him and blinked back the tears in her eyes. “Oh, but I do. If I don’t, I’ll never be able to look at myself in the mirror again. Thank you for making it possible for me to be here.”

“Glad to do it.” He glanced down at the floor, moved around her and pulled one of the chairs out from the table. “This box contains all the reports and notes of the investigating detectives. I thought you could look through these first. Sit here, and I’ll get all the reports out for you.”

She sat down and watched as he began to pull notebooks and files from the box. “You said these are the reports and notes. Does that mean there’s more?”

He nodded. “Yes, but those boxes have the physical evidence gathered at the scene. I thought you might want to look at this before you look at those things, like pieces of recovered clothing and surviving parts of the bomb.”

She swallowed nausea at the thought of seeing a piece of the polka-dotted dress her mother had been wearing that day. “Thanks, Brad. I don’t think I want to see those things right now. Maybe later.”

With a sigh she reached out and pulled the first notebook closer and opened it. An hour later other notebooks lay about the table. Brad pulled another one from the box and held it out to her. “Here’s the one where lead Detective Matlock kept his notes.”

She took it and opened it to the first page. Her eyes grew wide, and she glanced up at Brad. “Well, he didn’t waste any time recording who he thought was behind the murders. He’s written here that from the beginning he felt that Tony Lynch hired Johnny Sherwood to plant the bomb, but he was never able to link either one of them to the crime.”

Brad nodded. “Yeah, he always thought that. Matlock’s retired now and lives in North Carolina. I talked to him when I read through this, and he still regrets not being able to pin this crime on Tony.”

Laura turned through the pages and scanned the detective’s handwriting. Most of the information recapped talks he’d had with individuals thought to be connected to the crime. She stopped when she came to the page of Johnny Sherwood’s interview. She read through it quickly and shrugged. “Johnny Sherwood’s girlfriend gave him an alibi that he was with her in New Orleans that night. She even produced credit card receipts. One for gas purchased on Johnny’s card at a service station just outside New Orleans and another for a restaurant in the French Quarter. Johnny’s signature was on both.”

“Yeah,” Brad snorted. “Detective Matlock never could find out who really used that credit card. Nobody at the gas station or the restaurant could identify who’d signed from a photo lineup. Matlock believed Sylvia had signed Johnny’s name on the receipt.”

Laura pursed her lips and thought for a moment. “Those receipts appeared at a convenient time for Johnny, didn’t they?”

“That’s what the police thought. Before they could prove differently, Johnny was murdered in a parking lot of a club owned by Tony Lynch. Vince Stone was convicted of that murder and is serving a life sentence.”

“What happened to Johnny’s girlfriend?”

Brad shook his head. “I have no idea. I tried to locate her when I reviewed the file, but I came up with nothing.”

Laura flipped through the remaining pages of the notebook. “I’d like to read this more carefully, but I don’t want to detain you. Do you need to be doing something else right now?”

Brad shook his head. “No, my partners are covering for me today. I’ll stay until you’re finished. Then I’ll get the evidence back to storage.”

“Okay.”

He scooted his chair closer to hers and reached for the notebook. “I’ll follow along as you look through this. Maybe I missed something the first time. Two sets of eyes are better than one anyway.”

She smiled up at him. “Thank you for helping me with this, Brad. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he muttered and directed his attention to the first page.

An hour later they turned to the last page of the notebook. “Well, I guess that’s it. Nothing jumped out at me. How about you?”

He shook his head. “No, I didn’t...” He reached out and grabbed her hand before she could close the notebook. “Whoa! What do we have here?”

Laura’s eyes grew wide as Brad grabbed the edge of a strip of white paper that protruded from a pocket on the inside back cover and pulled it free. “What is it?”

“A photograph.” Brad held the picture up, and Laura leaned forward to examine it. They gazed at the image of a young couple standing next to an automobile. The man’s arm circled the woman’s waist, and her head was tipped back as she gazed at him. Her long blond hair hung down her back.

“I’ve never seen either one of them before. Who are they?” Laura asked.

Brad turned the picture over and smiled before he held it up for her to read what was written on the back. “‘Johnny Sherwood and Sylvia Warner before she married Daniel Hill.’ This is the first time I’ve seen a picture of her, and I had no idea she got married. Every time she’s mentioned in the file, her last name is Warner.” Brad pulled the photograph back and wrinkled his brow as he studied. “Sylvia,” he whispered. “Where are you now?”

“Do you think she might still be in Memphis?”

Brad shrugged. “I couldn’t find a trace of her before. But that was six months ago. Maybe I should try again.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and punched in a number. “Thompson, this is Brad Austin. Do you still have all that information I gave you some time back on a woman named Sylvia Warner? I need you to run that search again, but this time use the name Sylvia Hill. I just found out she got married.” He paused a moment as he listened to the person on the other end of the line. “That sounds good. Anything you can find. I’m down in evidence storage, but I’ll be back in my office in a few minutes.”

When he ended the call, Laura stood up. “Who was that?”

“A guy who’s a computer wizard.”

“Does he work for the police department?”

Brad smiled. “No. He’s freelance, and he helps me out from time to time. He couldn’t find anything before. Maybe something will show up with her other name.” He looked at the picture of Johnny and Sylvia once more before he put it in his pocket and closed the notebook. “I’ll put this evidence back, and then we’ll go to my office to wait for his call.”

Her uncertainty earlier about looking into her parents’ case had disappeared since opening that file. All she could think about was the possibility that Sylvia Warner might still be in Memphis, and she could be the first lead in finding her parents’ killer.

A small ray of hope began to take root in her heart, the first she’d felt in nineteen years. At least it was a start, and she didn’t intend to give up until this cold case was solved.

* * *

Brad glanced at his watch and tried not to sigh. He didn’t want Laura to see how impatient he was to hear back from Thompson. The truth was he didn’t know how much longer he could sit still. He’d tried to hide his excitement over this first lead by looking over some files, but he really had been staring at the same page for the past fifteen minutes.

Laura fidgeted in the chair across the desk from him and folded her hands in her lap. “What’s taking him so long?”

“I’m sure he’s doing a very thorough job. You can’t rush these things, you know.”

She sighed and pushed to her feet. “Don’t pay any attention to me. I’m just champing at the bit to find Sylvia.”

“Me, too, but it may take...” The ring of his cell phone interrupted his words. He jammed the phone to his ear. “Austin.”

“Hey, man, I may have some information for you.”

Brad pulled a notepad closer and picked up a pen. “What did you find?”

“Well, the reason I couldn’t find Sylvia Warner anywhere is because her name changed when she married Daniel Hill. They were married in New Orleans about two years after she left Memphis. But afterward she dropped off the radar because she started using her middle name, Anne, with her married name.”

“So she’s going by Anne Hill now?”

“She was, but Daniel died about a year ago. I couldn’t find any work records for her during the years she was married, but she got a job a few months ago right here in town. I guess she had to take her old name back because of social security. Anyway, she’s living off of Poplar Avenue and working in a barbecue restaurant close to downtown. I’ll text you the addresses.”

“Great. Thanks a lot, man. I appreciate this.”

“No problem. Catch you later.”

Brad disconnected the call and within seconds the text arrived with the addresses. He held up the phone. “Looks like we may have located Sylvia. Want to go with me to talk to her?”

Laura jumped up from the chair. “Oh, do I. I can’t believe he found her.”

He nodded. “That’s the way it is when you’re working a case. Leads come from the last place you’d expect. This time it was a picture. What do you say we check out the workplace first?”

“Sounds good to me. Let’s go.”

Minutes later they were on their way to Ribs and More Barbecue near downtown. Brad watched Laura out of the corner of his eye. She hadn’t glanced his way since they left the station. In fact she’d been so silent, it was beginning to bother him. He hoped she wasn’t dwelling too much on what had happened to her last night.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking, Laura. Maybe it’s not safe for you and Grace to stay at your house for a while.”

She swiveled in her seat and stared at him. “Grace won’t be there for the next week. She left for London yesterday afternoon right after we taped the interview. She’s on an assignment for the television station.”

“Well, this concerns me even more. Your abductors had no problem finding where you work. I imagine they know where you live, too. It’s too dangerous for you to be there right now. Is there any safe place you can go?”

She thought for a moment. “My aunt and uncle who raised Mark and me live in California now. But maybe Charles and Nora McKenzie wouldn’t mind if I stayed with them. Their house is big enough.”

“I remember them. They used to come see you and Mark play sports when we were in school. He was working in your father’s office when your parents were killed.”

“Yes, he interned there when he was in law school and went to work for my father when he graduated. His wife, Nora, was our nanny. She’s the one who was with us when the bomb exploded. I don’t know what we would have done if it hadn’t been for her. She had the police and firefighters there within minutes. They’ve remained our closest friends since that time.”

“I heard Charles is doing well in his law practice. Your dad would be happy for him.”

She nodded. “Yes, he would. He said Charles was born to practice law, and he was happy he had a small part in helping him get started in his career. Charles had been working for Dad about two years before the explosion.”

“And you think they’d let you stay with them?”

“I know they would. They live in a beautiful house out in East Memphis. In fact, they tried to get me to move in with them when I first came back, but I wanted a place of my own. And of course I wanted to live with Grace. I’ll give them a call later.”

He glanced at his watch and pointed up ahead. “The restaurant is right up here. Since it’s past lunchtime, we can find a table and order a sandwich while we look around.”

She smiled. “Memphis barbecue sounds great. It will only get better if Sylvia is working.”

As Brad pulled the car into the restaurant parking lot, he looked over the vehicles parked beside the building. It was well past lunchtime, but there appeared to be a crowd inside. His stomach growled at the tangy smell of barbecue sauce drifting through the air when they climbed from the car.

Laura fell into step beside him, and they entered the café. A counter with a cash register on top sat to the left of the door. A young woman with streaks of red in her dark brown hair smiled at them from behind the counter when they entered. “If you’ll wait right here, our hostess will be with you in a minute.”

At the other side of the room a woman, who Brad suspected was the hostess, stood with her back to them as she waited for a man and woman to take their seats at a table with a red-and-white checkered tablecloth. When they were seated, she handed them both menus and turned. Laura gasped when she caught a glimpse of the woman’s face. She might be nearly twenty years older than in the photograph, but there was no mistaking this was Sylvia Warner.

She walked up to them, smiled and picked up two menus from the hostess stand. “Two for lunch?”

“Yes,” Brad said.

Her gaze darted from Brad to Laura before she turned. “This way, please.”

Brad put his hand in the small of Laura’s back and guided her forward as they walked to their table, then suddenly jerked his hand away. His skin warmed at the memory of how he had done that when they were engaged. Did she recognize that he had used the familiar gesture? He hoped not. It had been a force of habit. He needed to be more careful when he was around her. He wouldn’t want her getting any wrong ideas.

Sylvia stopped in front of a booth, and Laura slipped into one side without saying anything. He exhaled as he sat down and took the menu from the hostess. Afraid of what he might see in Laura’s eyes, he stared down and didn’t look at her.

“Your waitress will be with you in a minute.” Sylvia turned, and her heels tapped on the floor as she headed back to her station.

Brad opened the menu and began to scan the items. “What are you having?”

Laura glanced up then. Her attention seemed focused on what she was going to order. A wave of relief rippled through him. He saw nothing that suggested she thought his touch had meant anything. She probably remembered what he’d told her when she broke their engagement—that he would never forgive her for how she’d hurt him. He remembered because he’d told himself the same thing every day for the past six years.

Some things in life she might be able to make amends for, but breaking his heart wasn’t one of them. That deed was one that could never be undone.

* * *

Laura watched as Brad washed down the last bite of his sandwich with a swig of iced tea and wiped his mouth on his napkin. Laura picked up a French fry, nibbled on it and stared at the uneaten half of her sandwich.

He pointed at her plate. “Aren’t you going to finish that?”

She leaned against the back of the booth and rubbed her stomach. “I’m miserable. I can’t eat another bite.”

He glanced around the almost deserted dining room now and leaned across the table. “It looks like most of the customers have left. This should be a good time to talk to Sylvia. Are you ready?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

He motioned to their waitress who hurried across the room to their table. She smiled down at Brad and swished her ponytail back and forth. Laura smothered the smile that pulled at her mouth. The young woman had flirted with Brad ever since the meal began, and she wasn’t giving up now. She batted her eyelashes at him. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Yes. I’d appreciate it if you’d ask the hostess to come over here.”

Her shoulders sagged, and she frowned as she turned to look at Sylvia who was talking with the cashier. “You want to talk to Anne?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Then I’ll tell her.” The girl slapped their check down on the table, whirled and hurried across the room to where Sylvia stood.

Laura chuckled and took a sip of her iced tea. “I think you hurt her feelings, Brad.”

His eyes grew wide. “Why?”

“I think she wanted you to show some interest in her.”

He frowned and shook his head. “You’re imagining things.”

Laura sighed and picked up her glass again. “Well, I know your glass was kept filled all the time we were eating, and I had to practically beg for a refill.”

“Cut it out, Laura,” he growled. “We’re here on business.”

Laura glanced over her shoulder at the young woman huffing toward the hostess stand. She said something to Sylvia who turned and stared at them. A perplexed look covered her face. Frowning, she walked slowly across the dining room until she stopped at their table.

“Carlene said you wanted to talk to me. Was there something wrong with your food or your service?”

Brad shook his head. “No, I just wanted to talk to you for a minute if you have time.”

Sylvia glanced from Brad to Laura before she shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I’m very busy. If you have a complaint to make, perhaps you need to talk to the owner.”

Brad reached in his pocket and pulled out his detective’s shield. “I want to talk to you, Sylvia. Or is it Anne? Which name are you going by now?”

Her eyes widened as she stared at the badge. She swallowed and glanced down at him with fear in her eyes. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Brad shrugged. “I never said you did. I just want to talk to you. Please have a seat next to my friend.”

Laura scooted over, and after hesitating, Sylvia dropped down in the booth next to her. “What’s this all about?”

Brad reached back in his pocket and pulled out the picture they’d found earlier in the day. He laid it on the table and pushed it across the surface toward Sylvia. “I’m investigating two murders that occurred about nineteen years ago, about the time this picture was taken I’d say. This is you in the picture, isn’t it?”

Sylvia picked up the photograph and stared at it for a moment. Tears filled her eyes. “I haven’t seen this in years. Where did you get it?”

“It was in the cold case file of the murders of Lawrence and Madeline Webber. Do you remember anything about those murders?”

Sylvia’s face paled, and she gasped. “I had nothing to do with those murders and neither did Johnny. He just had the misfortune of hanging out with the wrong people. That’s what got him killed.”

Brad pushed his plate out of the way and crossed his arms on the table. “I believe you hung out with the same crowd. In fact I think you worked as a singer at the club Tony Lynch owned down on Beale Street.” He glanced around the barbecue restaurant. “This is kind of a long way from the gig you used to have down there. What happened?”

Laura could feel the anger radiating from Sylvia’s body. She leaned across the table and hissed at Brad. “My boyfriend was killed. Remember? He had nothing to do with those murders. He was with me in New Orleans when they happened. After Vince Stone was railroaded for killing him, I left Memphis. I had no reason to stay.”

Brad’s eyebrows shot up. “Railroaded? What do you mean by that?”

Sylvia rolled her eyes and curled her lips into a frown. “Vince was as innocent as Johnny. They just happened to be the two that got set up. Johnny for the Webbers and Vince for Johnny’s murder. The police were played real good by some dangerous people.”

Laura reached over and grabbed Sylvia’s hand. “Lawrence and Madeline Webber were my parents. I was just a child when they were killed. I need to find the people responsible for their deaths. If you know who these people are, please help us.”

Sylvia turned to her. Tears sparkled in her eyes. “I can’t. They’d kill me, too. I’m sorry about what happened to your parents, but please believe me. Johnny had nothing to do with it.”

Brad picked up the picture and slid it back in his pocket. “You and Johnny must have talked about who was involved. Why didn’t he come forward and let the police know?”

Sylvia scooted from the booth and jumped to her feet. “Look, mister. I don’t know what Johnny thought because he didn’t tell me anything. I just know that they’re dangerous. Now leave me alone.”

Laura reached out toward her. “Sylvia, please. If you have any information that will help us find who killed my parents, tell us.”

Sylvia took a step back and shook her head. “You seem like you’re a nice lady, but you need to let it go. Don’t go looking for answers because you’re only going to find trouble.”

Brad and Laura both climbed out of the booth. “What kind of trouble, Sylvia?” Laura asked.

Wild fear shone in Sylvia’s eyes, and she jerked her head around to glance behind her. “You can’t win with these people, Miss Webber. They’ll kill you without thinking twice about it, like they did your parents and my Johnny.”

Brad shook his head. “If you’re afraid, we can protect you.”

She held out her hands to keep him from stepping closer and shook her head. “You can’t protect me. They’re everywhere. They probably already know you’ve come here today.” She cast a nervous glance over her shoulder. “If you want to help me, stay away from me.”

Brad reached in his pocket, pulled out his business card and held it out. “Here’s my card in case you change your mind about talking to me. It has my cell phone number on it. I’ll meet you anywhere you say.”

Sylvia stared at the card for a moment before she jerked it from his hand and stuffed it in her pocket. “I’ll take it, but don’t expect me to call.”

Brad nodded. “I understand you’re scared, but think about Johnny. You believe he was innocent. Help us prove it if he was.”

Tears filled her eyes, and she opened her mouth as if to speak. Then she clamped her lips together, turned and ran through the door that led into the kitchen. Brad raked his hand through his hair and grimaced. “That didn’t go too well.”

Laura couldn’t quit staring at the swinging door where Sylvia had entered. “Do you think we’ve caused her trouble because we came down here today?”

Brad shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometimes doing this job can prove upsetting. I don’t want to put anyone at risk for talking to me, but I have to do my job.”

“Maybe she’ll call.”

“I doubt it. She looked like she was too scared. That makes me think she has information that will help solve your parents’ case. If I don’t hear from her, I’ll follow up with her in a few days.”

“Will you come back here?”

He nodded. “No, I’ll call her and have her come to the station. Sometimes it helps to get information from a subject if the interview is being done on our turf in an interrogation room. Maybe that would make her want to talk.”

“And if it doesn’t? What will you do then?”

He reached for the check the waitress had left and picked it up. When he straightened, a chill rippled down her spine. The muscle in his jaw twitched, and his cold eyes bore into her. “I don’t know what I’ll do, Laura. I warned you that sometimes cold cases take years to solve, if they’re ever solved at all. Don’t expect to look at the evidence one time and find a solution.”

“I know that. I didn’t mean...”

“When I became a cop, I thought I could help victims of crime, but it doesn’t always work that way.” He hesitated and took a deep breath. “Then when you left, I believed you would come back, but you didn’t. I guess I stopped believing in miracles a long time ago.”

Before she could reply, he pushed past her and headed to the cash register. She turned and studied him as he strode across the floor. His words had hit her like he’d shot a handful of arrows at her.

She’d known Brad had been hurt when she broke their engagement, but she hadn’t understood the depth of his hurt until now. If he detested being around her, she would have to remove herself from his presence some way. Maybe she needed to leave the police alone about her parents’ case for the time being.

Brad and his partners might find something in the future, but Brad’s attitude told her he didn’t want her around. Maybe she’d better back off and spend her time concentrating on helping her clients learn to live with their tragedies. She only hoped that one day she could do the same.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.