Christmas Cover-Up (3 page)

THREE

W
ednesday morning Katie woke to the sun streaming through the blinds and a headache she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy. Except maybe her uncooperative intruder from yesterday. Yeah. He could have it.

She squinted against the light and held a hand to her throbbing head, wondering who’d stabbed her just above her right eye. She glanced at the clock. Eight-fifteen. Where was she?

Oh, right, Grandma Jean’s. And today was Wednesday. Grandma Jean would be at her weekly Bible study and Mariah, a crime-lab technician, would have left for work about thirty minutes ago.

Katie moved and the room tilted. She groaned and decided the pain felt like little men with ice picks were assaulting her head.

Medicine first.

Call in sick second.

Once she’d ticked both items off her list, she closed the curtains over the blinds and crawled back under the covers. Bracing her head against the headboard, she kept her eyes shut and let her mind spin.

Time passed in a blur. It seemed like mere minutes when her cell phone rang, jarring her from her twilight sleep. A quick glance at the clock told her it was lunchtime. Her stomach growled in agreement.

She answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Katie? You all right?” Jordan asked.

She supposed her froglike voice might have clued him in that something might be wrong. “Yeah. Had a bad headache.”

“Had? As in it’s gone now?”

She considered the question. “Not entirely, but it’s better. Manageable.”

“Manageable enough to meet me for lunch?”

Did she want to? Not really, because she had a feeling what the topic of conversation would be. But she’d made this decision to pursue her sister’s case. A case that wouldn’t even exist if Katie hadn’t turned her back on Lucy for just a little too long. Lucy had been seven years old when fourteen-year-old Katie had helped a neighbor with her groceries. When she’d returned to the yard, Lucy had been gone. And Katie had been blamed by her parents ever since. Especially her mother.

It wasn’t too late to back out, but she knew deep down she didn’t want to do that. She needed to know what had happened to Lucy, needed somehow to absolve herself of this raging guilt she’d carried for the last fourteen years. “Sure. What’d you have in mind?”

“I think I remember you like pizza?”

“Of course.”

“How about Gino’s?”

The little pizza place about three minutes from Grandma Jean’s house. She swiped a hand through her hair. “Give me about thirty minutes.”

“Deal.”

“And I’m paying for mine, okay? I mean, this isn’t like a date, right?” she blurted. Silence from the other end. She fought the mortification at her silly assumption that he had even thought about paying for her lunch.

She opened her mouth to apologize only to hear him say on a choked laugh, “Well, if I’d been thinking along those lines, I’m not now.”

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to make things awkward. Was actually trying to avoid that by clearing that up before we met.”

He gave another low chuckle and she knew if she looked in the mirror, she’d be beet red. “You can pay for yours. See you soon, Katie.” His silky goodbye sent shivers dancing up her spine. Oh, no. She had
not
just done that, had she? Why, oh why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut?

And yet she couldn’t extinguish the spark of excitement that flared at the thought of being with him again. “It’s not a date,” she reminded herself as she flew through her routine, her headache all but gone.

Twenty-six minutes later, she walked through the door of the popular pizza café and spotted Jordan seated at a back table with a large pizza at the center. Christmas music played in the background, and a toasty fire added to the warmth of the atmosphere.

Katie slid into the chair opposite him. A glass of iced tea sat in front of her and she took a swig. He handed her a plate and a napkin. “Pepperoni all right?”

“More than all right. It’s my favorite.”

“That’s what I’ve heard.”

He had, huh? Erica?

She waited for him to mention her embarrassing moment on the phone, but he seemed to have let it go. She relaxed and for the next few minutes they ate while Katie wondered about the man across from her.

“What’s your story, Jordan?”

He stilled, glanced up at her then back to his pizza. “What do you mean?”

“You used to be with the FBI full time. Why did you leave to come work for Erica?”

“Partly because Brandon asked me to.” Brandon Hayes was Erica’s brother and partner with Finding the Lost. And Jordan’s roommate. He chewed his food and swallowed. “It’s a long story.”

He obviously didn’t want to talk about it, but she decided not to let him off the hook that easily. “I’ve got time.” He knew her entire sordid mess of a story. Would he trust her enough to share his background?

He stared at her then looked down at his food. “I was working with the Crimes Against Children division. Fighting online predators. I messed up and a kid died. End of story.”

Katie gasped. “Jordan, I’m so sorry.”

He continued to eat in silence, but Katie knew there was more. She decided to go for broke. “How did you mess up?”

He paused, set the uneaten piece of pizza on his plate and sighed. “I was outsmarted.”

She stared at him, skeptical. “I can’t see that happening.”

For a moment his eyes thawed and the grief that had been there faded a fraction. “Thanks for that.” He shook his head. “The guy on the other end of the computer had routed his IP address through so many different places, I was having a hard time tracking him. When I finally got a lock on him, it was too late. He’d killed the young girl and taken off.”

“Was he ever found?”

“Yes. The next day, when he tried to snatch another kid.”

She considered his story. “Is that why you only work cold cases at Finding the Lost? Like my sister’s case? Like Molly’s?” Jordan had been a key player in finding little Molly James, Erica’s daughter, who’d been kidnapped three years ago. Molly had been reunited with her mother six months before and was adjusting well thanks to a team effort. That was one case Katie would never forget. She’d worked countless hours looking for Molly and had forged a deep friendship with Erica as a result.

Jordan’s nostrils flared, her insight seeming to surprise him. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

She shrugged. “Maybe not to the ordinary person, but I just put two and two together.”

“Right.” Jordan tossed his napkin onto the table like he’d lost his appetite. “Can we get into the details about your sister’s case?”

She’d pushed enough. “I suppose it’s time.”

Jordan steepled his fingers and said, “Two weeks ago, you asked us to look into your sister’s disappearance.”

“Right.”

She shook her head. “I can’t believe it’s already been fourteen years. In some ways it seems like she’s been gone forever. In others, it seems like it was yesterday.”

“I took the information you gave me and the information from the file and tried to piece together the events of that day. I wanted to bounce everything off of you, see if you had anything else to add.” He paused. “And would have already done so if you had taken my calls.”

She grimaced. He stayed silent, but kept his gaze on her face. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.” Katie paused and considered what she wanted to tell him. She finally said, “You know, I became a detective because of Lucy.”

He nodded. “Erica mentioned something along those lines.”

“In the beginning, I did what I could on my own time to find her. But I kept running into brick walls. I got frustrated and angry that I wasn’t making any progress. It became an...obsession. Once again, the case was taking over my life.” She licked her lips and took a swig of her iced tea. “The first time was when she was taken. My parents worked so hard to find her—flyers, press conferences, interviews, everything. And of course I did what I could to be involved and help, but I was fourteen. I was powerless.” She swallowed hard.

“I hated that feeling. But now
I
was doing something.” She sighed. “My lieutenant had been very understanding, but I’d reached the limit on his patience. He was ready to put me on suspension because I was letting it affect my performance on my other cases. I had to stop if I wanted to save my career, my sanity. So I did.”

And she felt guilty for that. “I told myself I would take a break and get back to it. And I came to Finding the Lost because I thought it would be good to have some outside help to keep me from becoming obsessed.”

“How long has your break been?”

“A year.”

“So after a year, you decide to start searching again. Why the hesitation now?”

She rubbed her eyes. “Part of me is scared that I’ll do it again. Let it become an obsession. And as much as I want to know what happened to her, that can’t happen. And—” she picked at imaginary lint on the sleeve of her fleece “—I’m afraid of what I’m—we’re—going to find.”

“You’re scared we’re going to find out she’s dead.”

Katie looked up. “It’s been fourteen years, Jordan. You know the odds as well as I do.” She took a deep breath. “Don’t get me wrong. I want to know what happened to her. And yet...I don’t.”

“You can’t have it both ways.” He gentled his tone.

“I know that.” She rubbed a hand down her weary face and closed her eyes. “I just... What if she’s dead?” she whispered. “How will I tell my parents that? How will I live with it?”

Jordan leaned over and took her hand. The warmth of his fingers on hers made her shiver. “Won’t it give you some closure? One way or the other? All these years you’ve held out hope. Even if she’s dead, wouldn’t you finally be able to put it behind you?”

Katie shrugged and bit her lip then said, “I don’t know. That’s the problem. I simply don’t know.”

Jordan sighed. “Well, I’ve got information. I need to know what you want me to do with it.”

She shook her head. “Finding Lucy is why I’m here. I’ve been kidding myself thinking I could just let it go permanently.” She took a deep breath and met his gaze. “I’ve got to know one way or another—and I think my parents do, too.” After shredding her napkin into tiny pieces, she firmed her lips and looked him in the eye. “So tell me.”

* * *

Jordan pulled at his lower lip. Then he said, “I called a friend at the bureau and asked him about the case, got the file emailed to me and did some research. Your lieutenant was nice enough to let me have the local law enforcement file so I could compare the two.” He set that on the table in front of her.

She glanced at it. “Who have you talked to so far?”

“A lot of people. Particularly those who still live in your old neighborhood.”

“Go on.”

He pulled out a notebook and flipped through a few pages. “I tried to get in touch with your neighbor Elaine Johnson.”

“She’s still alive?” Katie asked.

It surprised him she didn’t know. “Yes. She’s old, but she’s definitely alive. The only problem is, she wasn’t home. I’ve been by her house three times and she’s not there. I asked some of your neighbors where she is and one of them thought she was visiting her son in Georgia. Another said she was in the hospital. And yet another said she thought she was in a nursing home. I’m tracking her down.”

“How about that. Elaine Johnson’s still alive.” She gave a breathy laugh. “Wow. I mean, I knew she was a year ago, but she was in the hospital with congestive heart failure the last I heard. I ended up deciding to take my break before I was able to talk to her, but I would scan the obituaries in the paper thinking I’d see her name. When I never did, I figured I just missed it.” She bit her lip and shook her head. “She didn’t see anything anyway that day. She was with me in the house when it all happened.”

Jordan nodded. Elaine Johnson. The next-door neighbor who’d needed help with her groceries. Katie had carried several bags into the house and then returned to her front yard to find Lucy missing.

She swallowed hard. “Who else have you had a chance to talk to?”

“Some of the other neighbors, but no one seemed to notice anything odd that day—until you called the cops and they swarmed the neighborhood. I’m still trying to track down a few people I haven’t gotten in touch with, people who’ve moved out of the neighborhood, but there aren’t many. I want to question every neighbor who was within sight of your old front yard.”

“I already did that, but maybe a new person asking even the same questions will spark something that’ll produce different answers.” One could hope. “A couple of hours after Lucy disappeared, I remember the detective, Frank Miller, coming out and questioning everyone even though the uniformed officers had already done it.” She finished off her last slice of pizza. “I watched him go house to house. I even followed him to see if I could listen in and learn anything.”

“Did you?”

“No. In fact, he was mad when he caught me. Told me to go on home and let him do his job. I remember smarting off to him and telling him he must not be much of a detective since my sister was still missing.” Jordan winced and she nodded. “Yeah, he wasn’t too happy with that.”

“I guess not.”

“I still see him around the precinct every once in a while. He goes out of his way to avoid me.”

“Detective Frank Miller. I spoke to him, too. He feels bad about not finding Lucy. It’s obvious that talking about the case brings back unpleasant memories, a sense of failure.” Jordan flipped the page in his notebook. “He’s forty-five years old now. Your sister’s case was one of his first, but his partner, Danny Jackson, was a veteran.”

“I talked to him last year, too. He retired a few years ago.”

“He was close to retirement fourteen years ago. He said your sister’s is one of the cases that still haunts him.”

“So did talking to them help? Because it didn’t do much for me. He’s very gruff, but I don’t think I should take it personally. I think it’s just how he is.”

“He was gruff with me, too. And I’m not sure if talking to him helped. He basically told me to mind my own business. I’m still going through the file and all their notes.” He tapped the notebook against his palm and studied the woman across from him.