“LEAVE THE PAST ALONE…I’M WARNING YOU.”

No threats will deter TV anchorwoman Grace Kincaid from the promise she made to investigate her high school classmate’s suspicious death. She’ll unravel the secrets from the past—even if she has to join forces with her former fiancé, cold-case detective Alex Crowne. Working closely together rekindles old feelings, and getting close to Alex puts Grace’s heart at risk. But it’s her life that’s in the most danger when she gets too close to exposing a killer-in-hiding who has made her his next target.

The Cold Case Files: Uncovering secrets of the past

“He’s taunting you, Grace. You need to stop this right now.”

She shook her head. “This guy knows something, Alex. He has to be the killer.”

“This is getting out of hand. First he gives you an anonymous call, then he sends you a puzzle to find his hidden message, and when you do, there’s another clue that threatens you. This guy is setting you up for something bad, and I don’t like it. This is a matter for the police.”

She glared at him. “I’ve been trained to follow a story wherever it goes. I’ll keep working on this whether you help me or not.”

“Grace, I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I’m not going to get hurt. And I’m not giving up,” she said and then stormed off.

She was determined to follow through on this, and Alex knew he’d do what he’d done ever since they were children. He’d be right there with her, looking out for her. How could she still have a hold on him after all these years and after all they’d gone through? Maybe if he helped her with this case he could finally close the chapter on Grace Kincaid and put her out of his life permanently.

SANDRA ROBBINS,

former teacher and principal in the Tennessee public schools, is an award-winning multipublished author of Christian fiction who lives in the small college town where she grew up. Without the help of her wonderful husband, four children and five grandchildren who’ve supported her dreams for many years, it would be impossible to write. As a child, Sandra accepted Jesus as her Savior and has depended on Him to guide her throughout her life. Her writing ministry grew out of the need for hope 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 so they may 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.”

Yuletide Jeopardy

Sandra Robbins

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice:

And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.

—Ephesians 4:31–32

To Kathy

A Great Friend and Critique Partner

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

DEAR READER

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

EXCERPT

ONE

The WKIZ-TV van skidded to a stop near the police cars blocking the entrance to the Memphis-Arkansas Bridge, and Grace Kincaid jumped from the vehicle before her cameraman had time to turn off the engine. The blue lights on the cruisers flashed in the cold December morning fog that drifted up from the Mississippi River below.

She held up her identification badge, which hung from a lanyard around her neck as she ran toward the officers who stood beside the cars. “Grace Kincaid, WKIZ. I had an urgent message that a man who’s threatening to jump from the bridge wants to talk to me.”

Captain Wilson, who she had interviewed once, pointed toward the middle of the bridge. “His name is Timothy Mitchell. Do you know him?”

Grace’s eyes widened, and she nodded. “His son was a friend of mine in high school. He committed suicide on this bridge when we were seniors.”

“We found that out,” he said.

Grace’s mind raced at the possibilities of this story. The father of her high school boyfriend was threatening suicide on the same bridge where his son had died, and he’d asked for her. Stories like this came along maybe once in a career. If she handled this right, the video would make a good addition to her application when she decided to apply to the networks again. She had to handle this carefully if she was to have a happy ending to this story by getting Mr. Mitchell safely off the bridge.

She turned to Captain Wilson. “Has he asked for anything else?”

“Mr. Mitchell asked for you and Detective Alex Crowne, but he’s not here yet. You can wait here until he arrives,” Captain Wilson said.

Grace groaned inwardly. Just what she needed. This story had just gotten a lot more complicated. She hadn’t seen Alex since the wedding of their best friends Laura Webber and Brad Austin six months ago, and he’d ignored her then. He would probably do the same thing when he arrived at the bridge because he still couldn’t stand to be near her. Instead of accepting his part in their failed romance, he had chosen to blame her, and she supposed he always would.

Grace shook her head. No way was he going to ignore her today and let this story slip through her fingers. She didn’t need Alex Crowne to help her with a man she’d known well once upon a time. With any luck she could have Mr. Mitchell down and be gone before Alex arrived.

“No, thanks. He can join me when he gets here.” A cold gust of wind whipped her coat around her knees, and she shivered at the early-morning chill. She pulled her gloves from her coat pocket, tugged them on and nodded to her cameraman Derek. “Let’s go. Be sure you keep that camera on. This will be our lead-in story on the noon and six o’clock news.”

Derek nodded. “Gotcha.”

Grace hurried toward the two officers who stood up ahead in the roadway next to the knee-high concrete barrier that separated it from the pedestrian walkway. As she came closer, her heart sank at the sight of the man who straddled the walkway railing on the river side of the bridge. His eyes were closed, and he swayed back and forth on the handrail as his long, white hair blew about his face.

The years had taken a toll on the once-handsome man. She’d heard that after his son’s death he had spiraled into a deep depression and had spent time in and out of mental institutions. Tears filled Grace’s eyes. The man balancing on the railing just feet away from her looked nothing like the wealthy businessman she’d once known.

One of the officers glanced from her to Mr. Mitchell as she approached. “Just let him talk and tell you what’s on his mind. Maybe you can distract him long enough for us to get him off that railing.”

Grace glanced around to make sure Derek had the camera rolling and nodded. “I’ll try.”

She cleared her throat. “Mr. Mitchell,” she called out.

Another gust of wind blew across the bridge, and the man wobbled as he struggled to maintain his balance. For a moment it looked as if he might fall to the river below, but he steadied himself. “Is that you, Grace?”

Chills rippled up her spine at the sight of the gaunt figure perched on the railing. She took a deep breath and stepped closer. “Yes. I understand you wanted to see me. What can I do to help you?”

The man didn’t speak for a moment. His eyes narrowed, and his gaze raked Grace. Her skin burned as his intense stare bored into her very soul. “You can find out who murdered my son.”

Grace didn’t know if it was the force of Mr. Mitchell’s words or the veins that stood out in his neck and face that frightened her the most. “Mr. Mitchell, Landon committed suicide. Don’t you remember? His car was found parked on this bridge. The door was open, and the keys were still in the ignition. There was a note on the seat that said he was sorry.”

His eyes blazed with fury. “He didn’t commit suicide. The note was printed off a computer. Landon hated typing on the computer. He would have left a handwritten note. Everybody was too quick to decide it was suicide.”

She shook her head and frowned. “Mr. Mitchell, I noticed changes in Landon during the two years before he died. He started skipping school, his grades dropped and he cut himself off from his old friends. I thought he was going through some kind of depression, so I wasn’t surprised when he killed himself.”

The man closed his eyes and yelled at the top of his voice. “He didn’t kill himself! He was murdered. It was that secret group he joined that killed him. You knew about it and didn’t tell anybody.”

Grace’s eyes grew wide, and she held up her hand. “Mr. Mitchell, please be careful. You’re going to fall.”

The words were no sooner out of her mouth than another wind gust whipped across the bridge. The loose-fitting, unbuttoned coat he wore flapped around his body. He grabbed the bar he straddled and clamped his legs around the base of the railing as he wobbled from side to side. Grace drew in a sharp breath and released it when he steadied himself.

She waited until he’d regained his balance before she spoke. “I understand how hard his death must have been for you. I wish I could have done something to help him, but he shut me out of his life. He never told me he joined a secret group. What makes you think he did?”

“Because after his death I found money hidden everywhere in his room. And I also found his journal. It was filled with all kinds of rambling entries about his successful deals and how much money he and his partners had made. There was a wolf’s head drawn on every page.”

“I never heard him say anything about wolves. Maybe it was just his way of doodling on the page.”

Mr. Mitchell shook his head. “No, it was more than that. One night I went into his room when he was sleeping to cover him with an extra blanket, and I saw a wolf’s head tattooed on his shoulder. So don’t tell me there wasn’t a secret group. I know there was. They were evil, and they killed my son.” The last words ended in a sob.

“If you’re right about this, I would like to help prove it. You say there was a journal that told about this group. Where is it now?”

He reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a leather book. “Here it is. I’ve read it over and over ever since he died.”

“Would you let me look at it?” Grace inched forward and stepped over the low barrier onto the pedestrian walkway.

“Grace, stop right there. Don’t get too close.” Her heart thudded at the voice that came from behind her. It didn’t matter how long it had been since she’d heard it. She’d know it anywhere. Alex Crowne had arrived on the bridge, and his command reminded her of the tone he’d used when cautioning her about something when they were children.

She frowned and shook her head. They weren’t children anymore, and he’d long ago given up the right to be concerned about her safety. She arched an eyebrow and glanced over her shoulder. “It’s all right, Alex. I just want to see the journal.”

Mr. Mitchell tilted his head back and laughed before he glared at Alex. “So Detective Crowne who supposedly solves cold cases came, too.” He leaned forward. “When I read in the paper you had been picked to help head up the new Cold Case Unit with the police, I begged you to solve my son’s murder. When are you going to do it?”

“I looked into the case like I said I would do,” Alex said, “and I told you I wasn’t able to find any new evidence that his death was anything but a suicide.”

Grace inched closer. “Mr. Mitchell, I’m sure Alex will be glad to look into Landon’s death again.” She turned her head and glanced at Alex over her shoulder. “You’ll do that, won’t you?”

Alex looked at her, then to Mr. Mitchell. “Of course I will.”

Grace smiled and turned her gaze back to Landon’s father. “We’ll both see what we can find out. Now why don’t you give me the journal and come down from the railing?”

Alex stepped over the barrier and came to a stop behind her. “No, Grace. Don’t get any closer.”

Without looking around, she waved Alex off. “It’s okay.” She moved closer to the railing and stretched out her hand. “I’m a reporter. If I see anything that makes me think Landon was murdered, I’ll find out who did it.”

Mr. Mitchell started to hold out the book but pulled it back. “Do you promise you’ll find out who killed him?”

“I promise I’ll look into his death, and Alex said he would also.”

Hesitantly, he sat up straight and held out the book. Another strong gust of wind swept across the bridge, but it wasn’t the sudden breeze that chilled Grace. Her skin prickled at the change in Mr. Mitchell’s face. Whereas moments ago he had looked like a grieving father, his eyes now held a maniacal glare, and he stared at her as if seeing her for the first time.

“Grace, be careful!” Alex’s warning came too late.

Grace reached out to take the journal. Before she could touch it, Landon’s father hurled the book into the air and grabbed her by the wrist. “You can look at it with me at the bottom of the river.”

Grace slammed against the bridge railing and gaped in horror as the book sailed downward toward the river. She looked up into Mr. Mitchell’s crazed eyes and tried to break free, but it was no use. He held her in a viselike grip. “You know who killed my son.”

“Grace!” Alex’s panicked yell reached her, and she struggled to twist free.

Mr. Mitchell’s hold on her tightened, and with a loud scream he fell backward off the railing but managed to clamp his free hand around the handrail. With one hand circling her wrist and the other clutching the railing, he dangled in midair and pulled her toward him.

Grace clawed for a hold on the railing with her free hand and watched in horror as he uncurled one finger from his grip on the handrail. He grinned and lifted another finger. Her feet lifted from the walkway, and she screamed at the excruciating pain radiating up her arm. She tried to wedge her feet between the metal rods that supported the railing, but she couldn’t grab a foothold as his weight pulled her closer and closer to the top of the railing. In a few seconds she would be pulled from the bridge to a watery grave below.

Just when she thought all hope was lost, Alex’s left arm encircled her waist, and he stretched his right one over the railing in an effort to reach Mr. Mitchell. The two uniformed officers appeared on either side of her to help Alex. Before they could catch hold of Mr. Mitchell, he released his hold on Grace’s wrist and the railing, but Alex grabbed him by the sleeve of his open coat before he could fall.

“Help me pull him up,” Alex yelled as he tightened his grip on Mr. Mitchell’s coat. The officers reached down to assist.

Before they could pull him to safety, Mr. Mitchell threw back his head, released a bone-chilling laugh, and wriggled out of the coat. Grace had a split-second glance of the surprised look that flashed across his face before he plummeted toward the murky waters below. With them free of Mr. Mitchell’s weight, she and Alex tumbled backward and landed on the walkway pavement with his arms wrapped around her.

She only had a moment to realize she was safe before Alex was on his feet and rushing back to the railing. She sat up and watched him lean over the railing and scan the river below. He turned to the officer next to him. “I don’t see him. Notify harbor patrol where he went into the water. If we’re lucky, we may be able to recover his body before the current carries it downstream.”

Alex’s shoulders sagged as he continued to look down at the water. After a moment, he turned and glared at her. Grace tried to rise, but her shaking legs wouldn’t cooperate. Alex strode back to her, grabbed her uninjured arm and lifted her to stand next to him. She pushed a lock of hair out of her face and struggled to keep from bursting into tears. “Thank you, Alex. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be dead right now.”

The muscle in his jaw twitched, and his eyebrows drew down across his nose. He released a long breath and shook his head. “I’ve seen you do a lot of crazy things, but nothing can top what you did today.”

She started to answer, but she noticed Derek still held the camera. “Derek, you can stop now. Go on back to the van and wait for me.”

He lowered the camera and glanced from her to Alex. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine. I’ll be with you in a few minutes.” Her wrist throbbed, and she massaged it as she watched Derek walk away. Then she turned back to Alex. Anger boiled up in her, and she took a step closer to Alex and stared up into his angry eyes. “May I ask what your problem is, Detective Crowne?” she hissed.

He didn’t back away from her. Instead, he leaned toward her until they were face-to-face. “My problem? It was your problem. You almost got yourself killed. Why didn’t you wait for me to get here? I might have been able to talk him down off that railing.”

Grace straightened her back and stared at him. “I had no idea when you’d get here, and I wanted to get Mr. Mitchell down as quickly as possible.”

“And you wanted to be the main rescuer in the story, didn’t you? You forget I know you too well, Grace. Your story on the noon news would sure look a lot better if you’d saved a man from a watery grave without the help of the police.”

Her face grew warm, and she shook her head. “I think he was determined to end his life no matter who was here.”

“Maybe,” Alex said. “But we might have avoided the attempt on your life. I told you not to go any closer, and you didn’t pay any attention to me. That shouldn’t surprise me since you’ve never listened to me about anything.”

His words cut deep, and she struggled to keep from bursting into tears. “What do you mean? Have you forgotten I’m the girl who followed you everywhere from the time we were ten years old? And that I’m also the girl who loved you and you threw my love away as if it was nothing? I’d say you’re the one who never listened.”

He shook his head and gave a sarcastic chuckle. “I guess it’s true. Two people can see a situation and interpret it in an entirely different way. If I remember correctly, it was you who walked away from me without caring how I felt.”

She took a step back from Alex and tried to stem the tears welling in her eyes. She’d never been able to make him understand her side of their breakup, and she probably never would. It saddened her to think their once close friendship had come to this.

She lifted her chin and took a deep breath. “Who are you to talk about caring? You haven’t even asked me how I’m feeling after almost taking a hundred-foot dive into the river. For your information I didn’t ask to come here today, and I sure didn’t ask to almost get killed. I was trying to save a man’s life.” Her battle to stop her tears failed, and she wiped at one that slipped down her cheek. “It turns out I didn’t help, and your attitude has turned a bad day into an even worse one. I’d like to say it was nice seeing you again, but it wasn’t.”

Alex raked his fingers through his hair. “Grace, don’t you understand—”

She held up her hand. “I think you’ve made your feelings very clear, Alex. Now I need to get back to work.”

Clutching her fists at her side, she whirled and stormed down the walkway in the direction of the station’s van. She’d failed to get the story of stopping a man from committing suicide that she’d first visualized when she set foot on the bridge. Instead of a piece to add to her résumé, she’d ended up with the last tragic moments of a man’s life.

She didn’t think she would ever forget the look on Mr. Mitchell’s face right before he plunged to the river. She needed to get back to the station and decide how she would use the footage on the noon newscast, but at the moment she couldn’t bear to think about the sad events on the bridge this morning. Maybe when she had calmed down, she could reflect on all that happened on the bridge today, but right now she needed to get as far away from it as possible.

* * *

Alex watched Grace stride away from him. Her blond hair glistened in the sunlight that had chased off the early-morning fog. She held her back erect, and anger oozed from every pore in her body. That was his doing. He should never have attacked her like that. After all she’d just had the scare of a lifetime, and he hadn’t helped any with his harsh words.

He’d spoken before he had time to think. But he’d been so scared when he saw Mitchell grab her arm and go over the side of the bridge. At first he couldn’t move, and then instinct kicked in. He had his arm around her and was pulling her backward before he realized what was happening.

He raised a shaking hand and brushed it across his eyes. Regret that he hadn’t been able to save Timothy Mitchell hit him like a kick in the stomach, and he knew it would be a long time before he could forget the look on the man’s face when he’d truly realized at that last moment he was about to die. But he had to keep reminding himself Grace had lived. If he’d been a second later, she would be at the bottom of the Mississippi River with Mr. Mitchell right now. He almost groaned aloud at the thought. As usual, their meeting today had ended like many others in the past, but this one was his fault.

His eyes followed Grace, who had stopped to talk with Captain Wilson, and he wished he could take back the harsh words he’d spoken earlier. He couldn’t, though, just like he couldn’t undo the past.

He’d had many tense moments since he’d joined the force, but today had to be the worst he’d ever experienced. At the moment he’d thought she was going over the bridge, he didn’t think of her as the woman who had broken his heart. He remembered her as the little girl who had shared his childhood with him. He had to make her understand how scared he’d been.

Alex turned to the officers who’d gathered at the railing and now watched the rolling water. “Do you need me for anything else?”

One of the officers who had tried to reach Mitchell shook his head. “There’s not much more to do here. Thanks for the help.”

Grace turned away from Captain Wilson and headed toward her van. Alex took a deep breath and jogged to catch up with her. She’d opened the door and was about to climb into the van when he called out to her. “Grace, wait. I want to talk with you.”

She closed the van’s door and glared at him as he approached. Her eyes flashed with anger when he stopped in front of her. “Do you want to berate me further for my bad judgment?”

Alex swallowed. “No. I wanted to make sure you’re all right and apologize for the way I spoke to you on the bridge. You’d just seen a man die, and you were almost killed yourself. After all you became a victim, too, when Mitchell tried to kill you. I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did. I’m sorry.”

She frowned and shook her head. “So after all these years, your only concern for my welfare is because you saw me as a victim on that bridge.”

He gritted his teeth and leaned closer. “You know that’s not true, Grace.”

“You still hate me, don’t you?” She tilted her head to one side. “It’s sad to think that after all these years we find it difficult to be around each other.”

He took a deep breath. “Yeah, but every time we’re together, it ends with angry words like it did on the bridge this morning. I don’t want it to end that way this time.”

She looked at him for a moment before she spoke. “Neither do I. I’m always sad afterward when that happens.”

He sighed. “Me, too, but it doesn’t change anything. There’s too much history between us, Grace.”

She opened her mouth to speak but didn’t say anything. After a moment her shoulders sagged, and she nodded. “There is, and there’s no way to undo the past. All we can do is try to make the best of it. I’d like for us to at least be civil when we run into each other, though.”

“I hope we can in time,” he said.

“Maybe we’ll have time to make it happen while we’re trying to find out the truth about Landon’s death.”

For a moment he thought he’d misunderstood her, but the determined look in her eye told him she knew exactly what she had said. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am.” She glanced around as if checking to see if anyone could overhear them before she lowered her voice. “What if his father was right and he was murdered?”

Alex shook his head. “Just because Mr. Mitchell says so doesn’t make it true. The police did a thorough investigation, and they believed it was suicide.”

“But still...”

“Suicide, Grace. That’s all there is to it.”

She arched an eyebrow. “So are you saying you won’t help me find out the truth? We both promised him we would find out about Landon’s death.”

Alex stepped closer and frowned. “That was before the man tried to kill you. I think that canceled all promises.”

“No, it doesn’t. What if he was right and Landon was murdered? Did you ever hear anybody talk about a secret society at school?”

Alex thought for a moment before he responded. “I suppose I did. There was always talk about some mysterious group who lurked in the shadows. But I thought it was just gossip.”

“What if it wasn’t? What if there was a secret group and they killed Landon?”

Alex glanced at his watch. “I don’t have time for this, Grace. I have real unsolved crimes I’m working on. Landon’s death was a suicide. I have better things to do than go chasing after some silly rumor that circulated in our high school twelve years ago.”

He started to turn away, but she grabbed his arm. “No, I’m not going to let you ignore this. We made a promise to a man right before he died. We may find it hard to be around each other, but that doesn’t release us from doing what is right. We have to find out the truth, Alex.”

He stared at her a moment before he pulled loose from her grip. “Although Landon’s body was recovered, the medical examiner couldn’t establish for certain the cause of death. So the case was never officially closed. Since it’s a cold case, I’ll look into it again. If I find out anything, I’ll let you know.”

She shook her head. “If it’s a cold case, you have a responsibility to investigate it. And I have an obligation to my station. I’m not about to let this story go.”

Understanding dawned, and he chuckled. “Oh, I get it. All your talk about doing what’s right was just a ploy to get me to help you with a big story. What do you want, Grace? Are you tired of being back in Memphis and you need something that can get you back to the major networks?”

Her face flushed, and she shook her head. “No, Alex. I want the truth, and I’m not going to give up until I find it. I worked as an investigative reporter before I went to the anchor desk, and I can do it again. It would help to have the police involved with this, too. But if you don’t help me, I’ll just have to do it on my own.”

“You’re still as headstrong as ever.” He studied her for a moment. “I don’t believe you want the truth, but it so happens I do. You’re right about one thing. It is my job to work a cold case, so I’ll help you investigate Landon’s death.”

She swallowed. “How can you work with me on an investigation if you hate me so much?”

His shoulders sagged, and he shook his head. “I don’t hate you, Grace. I don’t trust you.”

Tears sparkled in her eyes, but he didn’t blink. He’d seen enough of her tears through the years to know it was her way of getting what she wanted. He cleared his throat and glanced down at her arm. “I need to get back to work, and you need to go to a hospital and get that arm checked.”

She nodded. “Derek is going to take me by the hospital before we go back to the station.” She started to climb in the van but turned back to face Alex. “You’re right about a lot of things about me, Alex. I made some mistakes in the past, but you did, too. And you’re wrong about my reasons for wanting to find out the truth about Landon’s death. I hope you can come to see that.”

He didn’t know how to answer her, so he shook his head and stepped back from the van. He watched it drive away before he walked to where he’d parked his car.

When he’d gotten out of bed this morning, he’d expected a routine day at work. So far there had been nothing routine about it. He’d seen a man fall to his death, and he’d prevented Grace from following him into the Mississippi River. Now he was about to take another look at a cold case that hadn’t produced a lead in twelve years.

The most troubling thing, however, was the fact Grace wanted to be involved. He didn’t know if he’d be able to cope with that or not. Being around her stirred up too many painful memories. She’d broken his heart, and it had taken him years to get to the place where he was now. All he could do was protect himself so it didn’t happen again. He didn’t intend to ever let anyone hurt him again the way she had.

TWO

Even with the bright lights on the set, a chill rippled through Grace’s body as she watched the footage from the bridge play on the monitor. She and Derek had reviewed the final cut several times, but her heart still hammered every time she watched her struggle to keep from going over the railing.

When the footage ended, the camera focused back on the WKIZ News anchor desk. Her coanchor Todd Livingston turned to her and flashed his trademark toothy smile. “Wow, Grace. You had quite a morning. Thank goodness that detective was there to keep you from being pulled over the railing.”

Grace returned his smile. “Yes, Todd. It was touch-and-go there for a few minutes, but thanks to Detective Crowne, I wasn’t hurt.”

His gaze dropped to the elastic bandage around her wrist. “What did the doctor say about your arm?”

She held up her arm. “It’s just a sprain. It should be okay in a few days. I really am lucky.”

Todd looked into the camera and broadened his smile. “Knowing you, I doubt if you’ll let a little thing like a sprained wrist slow you down.”

She chuckled. “No, I won’t. Before Mr. Mitchell plunged to his death, I promised him I would look into his son’s death and see what I could find.”

Todd turned back to her, his eyes wide. “But I thought you said his son committed suicide.”

“The police suspect suicide, but they can’t be sure. There was blood on the front seat. Mr. Mitchell believed his son was murdered and that the scene was staged to look like a suicide.”

“So, what happens if you find something that suggests it might have been murder?”

“That’s a matter for the police, of course. I’ve already talked with Detective Alex Crowne of the Cold Case Unit, and he’s agreed to investigate the case with me.” She looked into the camera. “If there’s anyone who has information about Landon Mitchell’s death or a high school secret society that he might have been a member of, you can contact me here at the station. Even if it’s something that seems inconsequential, get in touch with me. You never can tell what detail might help to solve a crime.”

Todd picked up the papers in front of him and shuffled them into a neat stack. “Well, that’s all the time we have for today.” He glanced at Grace and gave an exaggerated shiver. “Suicide on the Memphis-Arkansas Bridge? A secret society in one of our high schools? A twelve-year-old unsolved death? It sounds like my busy bee coanchor has enough to keep the newsroom buzzing for a while. Tune in tomorrow and see what she has for us next.”

Grace plastered a smile on her face and held it until the camera shut down. Then she turned to Todd. “Were you trying to embarrass me on air?”

His eyes grew wide. “Why should I do that? You do it quite well without any help from me.”

Her skin warmed, and she scooped up the papers on the desk in front of her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Todd pushed to his feet. “Nothing. I just can’t imagine a story about a secret society of high school kids in the most prestigious school in the city going on a killing spree. I have better stories to focus on than something like that.”

Grace rose and faced him. She tilted her head to one side and smiled. “You know, Todd, I figured out a long time ago what the difference was between the two of us. We both love to report the news. But all I want is to keep the public informed about what’s going on in the world. You, on the other hand, only care how you can use your reports to propel you to a network job.”

Anger flashed across his face, but it disappeared when he noticed the cameramen were listening to their conversation. He took a deep breath and flashed his smile again. “And maybe it will, Grace. You might have blown your chance with the networks, but I haven’t yet.”

Grace watched Todd walk away before she turned to leave the set. Derek shook his head and pointed to Todd’s retreating figure. “Don’t let that guy get under your skin, Grace. He’s jealous that you get more fan mail than he does. Everybody here at the station knows the reason you left your job in New York, and they admire you for coming back to help take care of your father after he was wounded in that drive-by shooting. We really respect you for that, Grace.”

Her heart thudded as it did every time she thought of her active father confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. “Thanks, Derek. My family means a lot to me.”

“I know that, but you need to watch your back. Todd made life miserable for his last coanchor before you came. He wants to anchor alone, and he wants to be in a bigger market.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, observed Todd as he walked away and chuckled. “I sure do wish he would get a job at another station. Everybody here would be a lot happier.”

Grace laughed. “Me, too, but I don’t have time to worry about Todd today. We have an interview with the mayor this afternoon. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, do you want to grab a bite of lunch and head on downtown to his office?”

“I’m going to get my hair cut on my lunch hour today. I’ll meet you there at two. Okay?”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll see you then.”

Grace hurried back to her office and had just grabbed her purse when her cell phone rang. Caller ID identified it as a private number, and she frowned. She sat down behind her desk and pulled the phone to her ear. “Hello.”

“Grace, I saw your broadcast on the noon news. I thought we needed to talk.”

Although the voice sounded familiar, she couldn’t identify it. The thought crossed her mind that the caller was using some sort of voice distortion. “Who is this?”

“For personal reasons I’d like my identity to remain a secret. I’m sure you have anonymous callers a lot in your work. Just think of me that way—a nameless caller who wants to help you.”

Grace took a deep breath. “Okay, but how did you get my private cell phone number?”

“It really doesn’t matter. I called because I think you need to be careful.”

Grace’s hand tightened on the phone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that there are people who don’t want you to get too close to the truth. Leave the past alone. You’ll only end up getting hurt if you dig into Landon’s death.”

Grace gasped. “That sounds like a threat. Are you trying to scare me?”

“No, I’m warning you.”

“Do you have some information about Landon’s death?”

“Yes.”

Grace sat up straighter in her chair and pressed her cell phone harder against her ear. “Was he murdered?”

“Please, Grace, for your own good, let it go.”

“I can’t let it go. Landon was my friend, and from the way you’re talking, he was your friend, too. Don’t you want people to know the truth?” He didn’t answer for a moment, and she feared he’d disconnected the call. “Are you still there?”

She heard a heavy sigh. “All right. I tried to persuade you, but you haven’t listened. If you’re determined to continue, I see there’s nothing I can do to discourage you. I have something I want to give you.”

Grace’s eyes grew wide. “I’ll meet with you. Just tell me where and when.”

“No, I don’t want to do that.”

“Then mail it to me.”

“I suppose I could....” His voice trailed off. Then he inhaled. “No, I’ll leave it for you somewhere.”

She frowned. “Where?”

“I—I don’t know. Somewhere that no one else would find it unless they were specifically looking for it. I’ll think about it and let you know where to look. I’ll call you again.”

Grace’s heart beat faster. She couldn’t let him hang up before he’d agreed to give her his information. “Wait, don’t go yet. Tell me where to look, and I’ll do it.”

He was quiet for a moment. “I remember hearing you say once that you are a geocacher.”

“Yes, I am.”

“And you said you like puzzle clues that lead to the hidden cache.”

Grace frowned. “Yes, but I don’t understand what that—”

“Has to do with finding Landon’s killer?” Grace’s skin prickled at the sudden change in the caller’s voice. Moments ago it had been soft and reassuring. Suddenly it had become harsh and demanding. “You don’t understand a lot of things, Miss Kincaid. If you want to find Landon’s killer, you’re going to have to solve much more than a geocache puzzle. I’m looking forward to seeing how smart you really are.”

Grace stood up and gripped the phone tighter. “Don’t threaten me, Mr. Anonymous. You may find out I’m a lot smarter than you thought.”

“I doubt it.”

Grace chuckled. “I get it now. You didn’t call to warn me off. You wanted me more intrigued with this investigation than ever. If that was your plan, it seems to have worked. No way am I going to give up until I find out the truth.”

He laughed, and the piercing tone chilled her. “Aren’t you a little afraid of me?”

Her breath hitched in her throat, and her hand holding the phone shook. “N-no.”

A laugh echoed in her ear. “Yes, you are. I can hear it in your voice. You’d be wise to be very afraid of me. You have no idea what’s about to come down on you. Look for my instructions. Game on, Miss Kincaid.”

Before she could ask another question, the call disconnected. She stared at her phone for a moment and debated whether or not she should call Alex. He’d asked her to let him know if she found out anything. So far the only thing she knew was that someone wanted to play some kind of game with evidence he claimed to have about Landon’s death and he wanted her scared of him.

If her shaking legs were any indication, being afraid of him wasn’t going to be a problem, but she couldn’t give up now. She might have just talked to Landon’s killer. Alex probably wouldn’t agree, though. He would more likely think she’d received a call from some prankster who pretended to have information, but she wasn’t so sure.

A cold chill ran up her arm at the memory of the voice on the phone. He said he heard her on the broadcast. Maybe she shouldn’t talk about the investigation on the air. From now on, she’d be careful what she said. There were a lot of crazy people in the world, and the last thing she needed was to become the target of one.

* * *

Alex tossed the file he’d been studying down in front of him, propped his arms on his desk and buried his face in his hands. What was the matter with him? He’d been tense ever since he came into the office. Maybe he hadn’t gotten over watching a man jump to his death, but in his heart he knew that wasn’t true.

The main reason he’d been distracted all morning was because he couldn’t quit thinking about Grace. He’d put their past behind him years ago, and now she wanted them to work together to investigate Landon Mitchell’s death. Even though he’d agreed, he wasn’t sure he was ready to do that. They would have to see each other from time to time, and that could stir up a lot of old memories that needed to be forgotten.

He pushed to his feet, let out a ragged breath and ran his hand through his hair. Maybe some lunch would make him feel better. Before he could turn and leave the office, the door opened, and his partners, Brad Austin and Seth Dawtry, walked into the room. Brad held a sack with the name of Alex’s favorite fast food place printed on the side.

“Seth and I were downtown and had lunch. We stopped and picked something up for you since you were holding the office down.”

Alex grinned, reached for the sack and sank back into his chair. “Thanks. I was about to go get something. Now I can eat at my desk.”

Brad nodded. “We thought you might not be in the mood to go out. You’ve had a tough morning.”

Alex sighed. “Yeah, it’s never easy seeing someone commit suicide.”

Brad and Seth exchanged glances. “Well, if you need to talk, buddy, we’re here for you.”

“Thanks, guys, I appreciate it, but I’m okay.”

Brad opened his mouth to say something but shook his head, walked to his desk and dropped down in his chair. Seth considered Alex for a moment before he ambled over to his desk. When his partners appeared engrossed in what they were doing, Alex relaxed in his chair and pulled the burger and fries from the bag. He picked up a French fry, dredged it in catsup and shoved it in his mouth.

The thought of the look on Mr. Mitchell’s face as he plummeted toward the river flashed in Alex’s mind, and he frowned. He tried to chew the French fry he’d just put in his mouth, but he might as well have been eating sawdust for all the taste he got out of the piece of potato. He swallowed the fry, picked up the remainder of his lunch and put it back in the bag for later. There was no point in forcing himself to eat when his stomach churned. Maybe he needed to stop by the drugstore on his way home this afternoon and get something for a queasy stomach.

The problem was he’d had this feeling for years. It recurred every time he saw Grace, and he’d never found any medicine that could cure what ailed him. All he had to do was keep his distance from her, and after a few days he’d feel better.

After a few minutes he pushed to his feet. “I’m going to the break room for a cup of coffee. Anybody want anything?”

Brad and Seth shook their heads, and he strode from the room. He’d only taken a few steps down the hall when he heard music drifting from the break room. He stopped, glanced down at his watch and grimaced. Just his luck. It was time for the WKIZ noon news. He hesitated at the door, unsure if he should enter or turn and walk back to his office. He rubbed his hand over his eyes, took a deep breath and walked inside.

Several officers sat on the couch that faced the television, and their gazes were locked on the picture that filled the screen. Grace sat behind the anchor desk and in her usual professional manner related the events of the morning as she looked into the camera.

He couldn’t move as she switched to the video the cameraman had filmed on the bridge. He shoved his hands into his pockets, leaned up against the door frame and watched in fascination as she reported the lead-in story for the newscast. His throat tightened, and his heart thudded as he relived each terrifying moment. Perspiration dotted his forehead, and he reached up to wipe it away.

One of the officers glanced up and saw him standing in the doorway. “Hey, Crowne. That was some rescue you pulled off. I didn’t know you could move that fast.” The officers looked at each other and chuckled.

Alex pushed to his full height and managed a weak smile. “I just wish I could have saved Mitchell, but at least Grace Kincaid didn’t go over the side, too.”

He glanced back at the screen as the camera focused on Grace’s face again. Behind her he could see red poinsettias arranged on shelves. As he studied her sitting among the holiday decorations on the set, he was reminded of Christmas their senior year in college. He couldn’t wait for her to get back to Memphis from Philadelphia that year, but it hadn’t turned out to be the happy time he’d anticipated. Instead, it had ended with his heart broken. Every Christmas since then had held little interest for him.

After a moment he stepped into the room and dropped down in a chair. He sat through the rest of Grace’s newscast, but he didn’t leave when the program was over and the other officers had returned to their desks.

Suddenly he felt tired. Maybe the morning’s events were just catching up with him. He leaned his head back, closed his eyes and drifted on the edge of sleep. The ringing of his phone jerked him awake, and he sat up straight. He had no idea how long he’d been in the break room.

He sat up and pulled his phone from his pocket. “Hello.”

“Alex, this is Grace. Are you all right? You sound groggy.”

He closed his eyes and rubbed his hand over them. “I’m alone in the break room, and I must have nodded off. The phone woke me. Why are you calling?”

She hesitated a moment. “I don’t know if it means anything or not, but I just had a strange phone call.”

He sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”

“Someone called and wouldn’t tell me who it was. He said he has something he wants me to see.”

“So you think he must have some information about Landon’s death?”

“I do, but as the conversation progressed, he became sinister.”

Alex rubbed the back of his neck. “Did he say he would call again?”

“No. He said he was going to hide whatever it is he has and he’ll send me a clue where it is. I thought you should know.”

He nodded. “I’m glad you called. Did he say anything else?”

She hesitated a moment. “He said I should be afraid of him.”

Alex exhaled and shook his head. “I don’t like the sound of that. Be careful, Grace. Don’t go to the parking lot alone when you leave work, and watch for anybody following you. Let me know if you hear from him again or if you receive anything from him.”

“I will. I’ll talk to you later.”

He disconnected the call and sighed. This was what he’d been afraid would happen. The calls were already beginning to come. Whether or not this one was legitimate remained to be seen. But no matter, Grace’s first thought had been to call him, and she’d probably do the same the next time something occurred that might affect the investigation.

The last thing he needed in his life was to spend time with Grace Kincaid, but it seemed that’s where he’d been headed ever since Timothy Mitchell decided to jump off the bridge. All he could do now was guard against renewing any kind of friendship with Grace. He was determined that wasn’t going to happen.

THREE

Grace pulled her car into her reserved parking spot at the television station and turned off the engine, but for some reason, she couldn’t make herself get out. She didn’t know if it was driving through the heavy morning traffic or her lack of sleep the night before that had left her feeling exhausted. She rubbed her hands over her eyes and tried to blot out the picture that had flashed in her mind during her sleepless night. Every time she’d closed her eyes, the scene on the bridge had popped into her mind. She saw herself grasping the bridge railing and staring down into Mr. Mitchell’s wild eyes.

Her wrist throbbed, and she massaged it. A shiver went up her spine. No matter how hard she’d tried, she couldn’t dispel the fear that flowed through her every time she thought of that moment.

She shook her head, took a deep breath and climbed out of the car. Thinking about what might have been was doing her no good. Today she would be thankful she was alive. She said a quick prayer of thanks as she headed into the building and down the hallway to her small office.

The minute she walked in the door she spotted the small box wrapped in brown paper on her desk. Her name and the address of the station were on the mailing label, but there were no stamps on the package. This had not come through the mail.

She was about to pick it up when a voice at the door startled her. “I see you found your delivery.”

Grace whirled to see Julie Colter, a new employee, standing in the doorway. “Good morning, Julie. Did you see who delivered this?”

“Yes, it was a private messenger service. The guy asked if I would give it to you and I said I would.”

Grace frowned. “Did you sign that you’d received the delivery?”

Julie shook her head. “No, he was gone before I had a chance to ask him.”

Grace sighed. “Do you know the name of the messenger service?”

Julie thought for a moment before she shook her head again. “No, he just said it was a special delivery for you. I guess I assumed he was from a service.” Julie’s eyebrows rose, and her face turned red. “Did I do something wrong, Miss Kincaid?”

Grace hesitated before she answered. “Sometimes our newscasts can upset some people. We don’t know who might send something harmful to us. We just need to be careful when accepting deliveries.”

Tears welled in Julie’s eyes, and she bit down on her lip. “Oh, Miss Kincaid, please don’t tell the station manager I did anything wrong. I need this job. If he fired me, I don’t know what I’d do.”

Grace reached out and patted Julie’s arm. “Now, now. Don’t get upset. Nobody’s going to get fired. You just need to be more careful in the future.”

Julie nodded. “I will. I promise. Now, is there anything I can do for you?”

“No, thank you.”

Julie eased toward the door. “Then I’ll get back to work, and I promise I won’t make that mistake again.”

Grace nodded and didn’t speak as the girl left the room. How many mistakes had Julie made since she was hired? It seemed the subject of Julie and her mishaps came up in the conversation no matter who you talked to at the station. She probably wouldn’t make it much longer if her work didn’t improve.

After a moment Grace turned her attention back to the package on her desk. Did it contain the clue her anonymous caller had told her about the day before? She leaned closer and studied the name and address on the mailing label. They had been typed, not handwritten, and there were no strings tied around the box, just tape to hold the paper.

Should she open it or not? Only a year ago a Memphis accountant had been injured when he opened an package that contained a bomb. Perhaps she should have Alex take a look at it or even dust it for fingerprints, but she would feel foolish if there was nothing threatening inside the envelope.

She pulled the tape loose and stepped back, then chuckled. If the box contained a bomb, a few steps away from the desk wouldn’t be enough distance to offer any protection. She eased back to the desk and loosened the package’s paper. It fell away to reveal a square box that looked to be about eight inches on each side.

Her heart pounded as she lifted the top of the box and peered inside. A folded piece of paper lay atop something wrapped in tissue paper. Frowning, she pulled the note out and unfolded it.

Dear Miss Kincaid,

I enjoyed our chat yesterday, and I have done as I promised. I have enclosed directions inside this box for the first stop on your journey. For a knowledgeable geocacher like you the puzzle should be no problem. Solve it, and you will find what I have left for you somewhere in the city. I will be watching to see if you are successful. I’m looking forward to our journey together as you find out the truth about Landon’s death.

Your Anonymous Friend

The words made Grace’s skin prickle, and she read the note several times before she reached in the box and pulled out the tissue-wrapped object. She tore the paper away and blinked her eyes in surprise at the six-sided puzzle cube she held. She slowly turned it and studied the twisty puzzle’s mixture of white, red, blue, orange, green and yellow squares. Someone had turned the faces many times to make sure the colors were thoroughly mixed over every surface.

Something written on one of the white squares caught her eye, and she stared closer at it. Her breath hitched in her throat. A quick glance over the other surfaces told her that more white squares had markings. GPS coordinates! Her caller had just sent her a challenge. Solve the puzzle by arranging all the white cubes on one side and she would have a location where she would find a clue about Landon’s killer.

She dropped down in her desk chair and began to twist the faces of the puzzle in an attempt to get all the white-colored surfaces on one side. After twenty minutes she was ready to throw the toy in the trash can. She’d played with these puzzles when she was growing up and never had mastered the art of getting all the sides back in order. She doubted if she could do it now.

“What are you doing?” Todd stood in the doorway to her office. A smirk pulled at his lips, and he let his gaze drift back and forth from her face to the puzzle in her hand. “Don’t you have anything better to do than play with toys? We do have a noon newscast to do, you know.”

Grace opened her desk drawer, shoved the puzzle inside and stood. “I like to keep my mind sharp, Todd. You might try doing that sometime yourself.”

He glared at her and took a step forward. “Someday you’re going to go too far with me, Grace.”

She ignored the remark and crossed her arms. “Do you need something?”

Todd shook his head. “No, I just thought I’d check and see if you’d had any response to your plea on yesterday’s newscast for information about Landon Mitchell’s death.”

“I haven’t had anything concrete yet.”

He cocked one eyebrow. “But you have had something?”

She shook her head. “Nothing I can talk about.”

He pursed his lips and frowned. “Okay. Let me know if I can help you with anything.”

“I will.”

She waited until he’d left before she sank back in her chair. Nothing would please Todd better than to scoop her on the story of Landon’s death. She would have to be more careful in the future.

Grace pulled the drawer open and looked down at the puzzle. She should call Alex. She’d promised to let him know if she heard anything from her mysterious caller. She jumped up, hurried to the door and closed it before she returned to her desk and dialed Alex’s cell phone. He answered on the first ring.

“Hello, Grace.”

The abrupt tone of his voice startled her, and she winced. “My, my. Don’t you sound grouchy this morning?”

“I’m sorry. It’s already been a busy morning.” His voice softened. “How are you feeling?”

“Better today.”

“Good.”

“I don’t know if it means anything or not...” Her office door rattled as if someone was about to open it. She paused in speaking. “Hold on a minute.”

She rose, walked to the door and pulled it open, but there was no one there. She stepped into the hallway and caught a glimpse of Todd just as he disappeared around the corner at the end of the hall. Had he been listening outside her door?

Frowning, she stepped back into her office and closed the door. “I’m sorry. I thought someone was at the door, but I was wrong. But the reason I called was to let you know I received a message from my caller this morning.”

“Really?”

He remained silent as she related the details of her delivery this morning and her inability to solve the puzzle. “He told me this wasn’t going to be easy, and he was right. So, I’m at a standstill. I don’t know where to go until I get the GPS coordinates arranged on one side of the puzzle.”

“This sounds weird to me, Grace. But then I’ve never done any geocaching. I’ve heard about it, and I know it’s like an internet scavenger hunt. But I really don’t know how it works.”

She chuckled. “It doesn’t seem like something you’d be interested in, but I love it. Like you said, it’s an international internet scavenger hunt that’s run from a website. A cache is usually a small item that can be placed along with a log book in a box or some other container and hidden aboveground. Then the person who’s hidden the cache logs the coordinates on a geocaching website, and hunters enter the coordinates in a GPS to search for them.”

“So the searcher gets to keep the treasure when he finds it?”

“Not necessarily. The geocacher signs the log book that’s been left at the cache site and may take the item inside or leave it. If they choose to take the item, they are required to leave something of equal value for the next hunter to find. When they return home, they log into the website and report the date they found the cache. It’s not about what’s found in the box. It’s all about the hunt. I spend a lot of my weekends looking for caches. It tests your mind, and you get a lot of exercise, too.”

Alex was silent for a moment. “So whoever sent you this puzzle is familiar with geocaching, and he knows you are, too. He’s left you a clue to Landon’s death, and the only way you can find it is to solve the puzzle and get the coordinates. Then you’ll know where to look.”

“That’s right. I told you I would call if I found out anything, but I have no idea whether or not I’ll ever be able to get the puzzle faces turned so that all the whites are on one side.”

“I was never much good at working those things, either. If you solve it, give me a call, and I’ll go with you to the location. I don’t want you going by yourself.”

Grace sighed. “Okay, I’ll let you know, but don’t hold your breath. This may be a hopeless task.”

“Thanks for calling, Grace, and keep in touch.”

“I will.”

Grace opened her desk drawer, picked up the puzzle, and twisted the surfaces. The longer she worked the more hopeless the task appeared. After about twenty minutes, she tossed the cube on her desk and rose to her feet. She might as well give up.

She placed her hands on her hips and looked down at the innocent-looking toy on her desk. Hidden on its surfaces were directions to a place that might reveal an answer to how Landon died. She had to get those coordinates lined up.

An idea hit her, and she smiled. There was more than one way to find what she needed to know. She sat down at her computer and pulled up the internet. Within minutes she had the information she needed.

She rushed to the hallway and hurried to the small closet near the staff restroom where the custodian kept his tools. She grabbed a screwdriver, took it to her office, and sat down at her desk. Smiling to herself, she picked up the cube and followed the instructions she’d found on the internet. First she rotated the top layer by 45 degrees, and pried one of its edge cubes away from the other two layers. The piece fell to her desk.

One by one she pulled the small cubes away from the center axis of the toy and watched them tumble to her desk in a pile of colors. When they were all stripped from the cube, she laid the white stickered sides out as if they were one surface on the cube and studied them. Frowning, she rearranged the pieces until she was satisfied she’d finally gotten the correct latitude and longitude. Then she leaned forward, folded her arms on top of her desk and smiled.

The coordinates stood out from the white surfaces. All she had to do now was enter them in her GPS and she would be on her way to finding out the truth about Landon Mitchell’s death. Smiling, she picked up her cell phone and punched in Alex’s number. He answered on the first ring.

“Hi, Grace.”

“I’ve figured out the coordinates.”

“Already?”

She laughed. “Well, to tell the truth I took a short cut. I tore the cube apart and laid the white sides out until I had the numbers in the right order.”

“That was smart. When do you want to go take a look at the cache site?”

She glanced at her watch. “It’s almost time for the noon news. What if I pick you up at the police station about one-thirty?”

“Sounds good. See you then.”

Grace disconnected the call and sat there a few minutes. Ever since she’d been back in Memphis, she’d tried to avoid seeing or talking with Alex. Then yesterday they’d been reunited by a man who wanted them to bring out the truth about his son’s death. Although she wanted to uncover the facts, she still wasn’t sure working with Alex was a good idea. Once she’d trusted Alex with all her heart, but when she’d needed him to have faith in her, he had failed her.

Her skin warmed at the thought of what Alex had said when he’d accused her the day before of wanting a story that would get her back to the networks. Although she’d denied it to Todd, in her heart she knew she hadn’t really left that life behind.

Her primary reason for returning to Memphis had been to help her mother with her invalid father, but he was getting stronger every day. Maybe she could go back sometime in the future. That’s why she couldn’t let herself get sidetracked by old memories about Alex Crowne.

She glanced up at the clock on the wall and gasped. Thinking about what the future held for her would have to wait. Right now she had the noon broadcast to do. She picked up a pen and wrote the coordinates on a piece of paper, stuck it in an envelope and along with the puzzle pieces dropped it in her desk drawer.

* * *

Alex consulted the GPS unit Grace had handed to him when he got into her car and then looked at the traffic in the lane beside them as they drove along East Parkway. “You need to change lanes. We’re going to turn left onto the road that leads down to the Overton Park Pavilion up ahead.”

Grace nodded and glanced in her mirrors before she eased into the left lane and put on her turn signal. “Thanks.”

She hadn’t said much since she’d picked him up. He wondered if it was because she was intent on finding the clue her caller said he’d left or if it was because he was with her. He shook the thought from his head and sat silent as she turned onto the road leading into the park and drove toward the parking lot at the pavilion.

When she pulled to a stop in the deserted parking lot, she glanced around. “Not many people out today.”

He let his gaze drift over the pavilion and nodded. “It’s almost Christmas, Grace, and the temperature is in the thirties. Not a good day to be having a picnic in the park.”

Her face flushed, and she smiled. “Yeah, I guess I’m so excited about finding the cache that I wasn’t thinking.” She took a deep breath and reached for the door handle. “I guess there’s no use waiting. Let’s go.”

They climbed from the car, and Alex waited until she had joined him. He held the GPS unit so that she could see it and pointed toward the line of trees at the back of the pavilion. “It looks like we need to go there. I hope your caller thought it was too cold to get very far away from the pavilion.”

She smiled and pulled her coat tighter. “You should have been born in the tropics. You never did like the Memphis winters.”

The memory of the two of them building a snowman in the yard of her home when they were about ten years old crossed his mind, and he smiled. “That’s not true. I like some things about winter. Low temperatures don’t happen to be one of them.”

“Then let’s get this hike over with as quickly as we can.”

Together they set off toward the trees in the distance. They didn’t speak as they entered the Old Forest State Natural Area of the park and ducked under some low-hanging bare tree branches. Within minutes they’d walked so far they could no longer see the pavilion. Alex plodded along, his feet growing colder by the moment, and kept his eyes on their coordinates.

Finally, he held up his hand. “This is it.”

Grace stopped, propped her hands on her hips and looked around. “It has to be around here somewhere. It could be at the base of one of the trees or partially hidden under a rock. It can’t be underground but somewhere that can be easily found.”

Alex pointed to the right of where they stood. “I’ll take the area over here, and you take the opposite side.”

She nodded and turned away from him. For the next few minutes they inched their way around the area as they inspected the trunks and bases of the trees. Alex turned rocks over and inspected each low-hanging branch to see if anything was perched there. He had just finished replacing a large rock he’d picked up when Grace called out. “I have something here.”

He jumped to his feet and arrived at her side just as she pulled a small box out of a hole that had rotted away at the base of a tree trunk. She stood and held up the small container. “Here it is.”

“It’s not a very big box.”

She shrugged. “It’s not always about the size. It’s about what’s inside.”

Grace loosened the string tied around the box, pulled the top off and found a small sealed envelope lying on top of a folded piece of paper. She slid her finger beneath the flap to unseal it and shook the contents into her hand. Her eyes grew wide, and she gasped at the sterling-silver ring that fell into her palm.

Alex leaned closer and frowned. “What is it?”

Grace swallowed and struggled to speak. She held it up for him to see. “It’s a friendship ring.”

“Does this have some special meaning for you?”

She nodded. “Yes, Landon gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday.” She pointed to the top of the ring. “He picked it out because it was designed with the infinity symbol across the top with our two birthstones set in it. He said it would always make me think of him.”

Alex looked at the ring again, then back to her. “Then what’s it doing here?”

“I don’t know. When Landon and I quit dating, I gave him the ring back. He had changed so much I didn’t want anything to remind me of him. He told me someday I would want to come back to him, and until then he was going to wear the ring on his pinkie finger. Every time I saw him in the hall at school he would have it on and would hold up his hand for me to see.”

Alex frowned. “Do you think he might have been wearing it when he died?”

“After his body washed ashore, I asked his father if he was wearing the ring. I wanted to keep it to remember him by, but his father said it wasn’t on his body. Do you think the killer could have taken the ring off his finger and kept it all these years?”

Alex shrugged. “It’s possible. Some killers like to keep some item from their victims. But why would he want you to know he had this ring?” He glanced at the box she still held. “What is that in the bottom of the box?”

She pulled the paper out and unfolded it. “It’s a note.”

Alex eased closer. “What does it say?”

“‘Good afternoon, Miss Kincaid. Congratulations on solving the puzzle and finding the first clue in your quest to discover how Landon really died. I thought you might like to have the ring I’ve kept all these years. As you know, it meant a lot to Landon. Now you must decide if you want to find out how I got it. If you want to know, then you must solve the next clue in hopes it will bring you the answers you desire. Does your search end here, or are you tempted to continue? The next move is yours, but be prepared for whatever may come.’”

Alex pulled the note from her hand and scanned it before he looked at her. “Is there nothing else inside?”

She glanced back in the box and pulled out another folded sheet of paper. “Here’s something.” She opened it and rolled her eyes in disgust. “It’s a Sudoku puzzle.”

“What? Let me see that.” He glanced over the printed grid. “I see he’s left the instructions for you at the bottom. Once you’ve solved the puzzle, you’ll find the coordinates to the next clue in the sixth line across.” He scanned the page for a moment before he looked back at Grace. “He’s giving you clues instead of telling you what you want to know. I don’t like this. He’s taunting you, Grace. You need to stop this right now.”

She shook her head. “But we have to keep looking into this, Alex. This guy knows something, or he wouldn’t have this ring. He has to be the killer.”

Alex shook his head. “Not we, Grace. This is getting out of hand. First he gives you an anonymous call, then he sends you a puzzle to find his hidden message, and when you do, there’s another clue that threatens you. This guy is setting you up for something bad, and I don’t like it. This is a matter for the police.”

She glared at him. “No, I’m not giving up. I’ve been trained to follow a story wherever it goes. I’ll keep working on this whether you help me or not.”

“Grace, you’re not listening to me. This is for your own good. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

She snatched the note out of his hand and whirled. “I’m not going to get hurt. And I’m not giving up.” She glanced over her shoulder as she stormed back through the forest.

He watched her go and shook his head in dismay. Yesterday Grace had accused him of being stubborn, but when she set her mind to something, she wouldn’t give up. He kicked at a clump of dirt on the ground and took a deep breath.

She was determined to follow through on this, and he knew he’d do what he’d done ever since they were children. He’d be right there with her looking out for her. How could she still have a hold on him after all these years and after all they’d gone through? But she did, and he couldn’t deny it. Maybe if he helped her with this case he could finally close the chapter on Grace Kincaid and put her out of his life permanently.

He jogged back through the forest to tell her he’d help her. When he emerged from the forest, he caught sight of her already in the parking lot. She stood next to her car, her cell phone to her ear. His skin prickled. Something wasn’t right. As he got closer, he realized what it was. All four tires of her car had been slashed.

“Yes, the pavilion in Overton Park. I’m standing beside the car.” She disconnected the call and turned as he came to a stop next to her. “I called the garage that I use. They’ll take care of this and check to make sure no other damage was done before they deliver the car to my home later today.”

“Good.” He glanced around at the deserted parking lot. “I didn’t see anybody when I came out of the forest. Did you?”

She nodded. “Just as I stepped out of the tree line, a car pulled out of the parking lot. At that distance I couldn’t tell who was driving.”

A gust of wind blew across the parking lot, and Alex shivered. “It’s getting colder. I’ll call Brad to come pick us up. Why don’t we get in the car and wait for him there?”

She nodded. “That sounds good to me.”

He walked over and opened the driver’s door for her to step inside. Before she could move, the sharp crack of a gun split the quiet air, and a bullet slammed into the open car door. Alex lunged for Grace and knocked her to the ground as the second shot screamed over their heads.

“Get to the other side of the car,” he yelled as he pulled his phone from the clip on his belt with one hand and his gun with the other. The shots appeared to have come from the forest. He fired in that direction, but he had no idea where the shooter was.

Grace scooted on her stomach to the far side of the car as shots continued to hit the side of her car. Alex crawled behind, his phone pressed to his ear as he fired off two more shots. “Officer under fire,” he shouted into the phone. “Picnic pavilion at Overton Park. Need backup now!”

“Officers on their way.” The 911 operator’s voice crackled over the phone.

He grit his teeth and hoped they weren’t too late as another bullet shattered the car’s headlight. Fragments from the shattered headlight rained down on them as they scrambled to the far side of the car.

Alex sat up with his back pressed against the fender of the car and tried to peer around the front, but another bullet plowed into the front bumper. The gunfire seemed to be coming from a different direction. Maybe the shooter was working his way around so he had a clear shot at them now huddled beside the car.

Grace started to push up from the ground, but Alex shoved her back down and fell on top of her to shield her body as another bullet ripped past their heads. He was about to urge Grace to crawl to the back of the car when three police cruisers roared into the parking lot.

Before he could sit up, the officers, one of them holding a dog, jumped out of the cars, fanned out across the parking lot and headed toward the trees at the edge of the forest. Alex sat up and pulled Grace into a sitting position.

The lieutenant in charge of the officers squatted down beside them. “What happened here?”

Alex stood up and pulled Grace to her feet. “Thanks for getting here so quickly,” he said as he began to relate the events in the park to the officer.

After about fifteen minutes one of the officers emerged from the forest and jogged to where they waited. “We searched the woods, sir. The dog hit on several places where the shooter had stood when he fired, but he was gone. He must have had his escape route planned well.”

Alex nodded. “I could tell he was moving, trying to get a better shot.”

“We’re glad neither of you were hurt,” the lieutenant said. His gaze traveled over the bullet-marked car and shook his head. “Too bad about the car. We’re going to take another look in the woods before we go, but we’ll be glad to give you a ride when we leave.”

Alex shook his head. “No need for that. I’ll call my partner.” He pulled out his cell phone and punched in Brad’s number.

Brad answered right away. “Hello.”

“Brad, it’s Alex. Grace and I are at the Overton Park Pavilion, and we need a ride. Can you come pick us up?”

“Sure, I’ll be there right away.”

“Thanks.”

He disconnected the call and shoved the phone back in his pocket. “Brad should be here shortly. He can take you back to the television station. Would you like for me to give you a ride home this evening?”

“I’d appreciate it. I’ll be ready as soon as the six o’clock news is over.” A cold wind blew across the parking lot, and she drew her coat closer around her. She bit down on her lip and pointed to her car. “This doesn’t change anything, Alex. I’m still going to pursue this story.”

He gritted his teeth. “What’s the matter with you? Are you crazy? Somebody just tried to kill us, and you want to keep going with this investigation? This is something for the police to address, not you.”

“I don’t understand why he waited until we got back to the car to shoot at us. He could have done that while we were in the forest.”

Alex nodded. “I was wondering the same thing.”

“What if he didn’t intend to kill us? What if he only wanted to scare us?” She pulled the note from her pocket. “I think he wants us to find the next clue.”

“We could offer what-ifs all day long and not be any closer to the truth than we are now,” Alex said. “The facts are that someone lured you to a deserted place then shot at you. Whether or not he meant to kill you doesn’t matter. Any one of those bullets could have found their mark. This is where your involvement with this investigation has to end.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Tears sparkled in her eyes, and she pulled Landon’s friendship ring from her pocket and slipped it on her finger. “I’m convinced that whoever shot at us took this ring off Landon’s finger after he killed him. I promised his father I would find out the truth, and I’m not giving up until I know what it is.”

“Grace, please...”

“No! I won’t give up even if I have to do this on my own.”

He exhaled and shook his head. It would do no good to argue with her, and he’d come to the decision about what he should do while he was still in the forest. “I know I’m wasting my breath trying to get you to see reason, Grace. If you’re determined, I’m not going to let you do this alone.” He sighed and reached for the paper she still held. “I work these puzzles all the time. I’ll get started on it tonight.”

“Thank you, Alex.” She hesitated a moment, and he knew she was about to ask him to do something else.

He groaned inwardly. “I know that look, Grace. What else do you want me to do?”

“When you take me home, I’d like for you to come inside and be with me when I tell my parents what happened today.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know, Grace. Your father never did like me. To him I’ll always be the gardener’s son. I doubt if my presence will make any difference.”

“You’re wrong. My father is very different from when you knew him, and I want you to see for yourself. Please do this.”

He wanted to tell her no, but her eyes begged him to do this. After a moment, he nodded. “Okay, I’ll come in for a few minutes.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Alex.”

She crossed her arms and leaned back against the car. Alex turned and stared into the woods where the officers continued to search. He glanced down at the broken headlights and the bullet holes in the car. They had barely missed being killed today.

Cold fear washed over him, and he rubbed the hair on the back of his neck. Grace had opened a Pandora’s box with her announcement on air that she was going to look into Landon Mitchell’s death. There was nothing he could do to stop what might come, but one thing he could do was be there to make sure nothing happened to Grace.

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