Love Inspired Suspense December 2013 Bundle: Christmas Cover-Up\Force of Nature\Yuletide Jeopardy\Wilderness Peril (53 page)

A sad look flickered in her eyes. “No, we're not. I suppose going back to the school yesterday brought up a lot of old memories and a lot of unexplained reasons for why things turned out the way they did between us.”

His heart pounded, and he shook his head. “Grace, please, I don't want to talk about this.”

“There's something I want to ask you. Did you ever wish you had gotten in touch with me after we broke up?”

He nodded. “I did. But then I could ask you the same question. Did you wish you had called me?”

“Yes.” The word was barely a whisper.

His eyebrows arched at her answer. What had made him wait so long? Pride? Anger? He had no answer, but it really didn't matter. There was no going back and making everything right again.

He sighed. “Well, neither of us did, and we both survived. I have a great job here in Memphis, and you went on to New York and built a great career in television as an investigative reporter and then a news anchor. I imagine when your father improves you'll be off to the networks to continue your career, and I'll be happy for you.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “I don't know if—”

The ringing of his cell phone interrupted what she was about to say, and he pulled the phone from his pocket. He glanced at the caller ID and frowned. “It's our office phone.” He connected the call. “Hello.”

“Alex, it's Seth.”

“Hey, man. Are you still at the office?”

“Yeah, I've been looking over the files from the Mitchell case.”

“Did you find anything?”

“No, I called to tell you something else. I know when you called in this morning you said you and Grace were going downtown to some lawyer's office.”

“Yes. Sam Jefferson's.”

“I thought Jefferson was the guy's name.”

Alex frowned and glanced at Grace. “What makes you ask about Sam?”

“One of the homicide detectives I used to work with dropped by the office a few minutes ago and told me they found Sam Jefferson's body earlier tonight in the parking lot at his office building. He said it looked like he'd been shot execution-style in the back of the head when he was getting in his car.”

The breath exploded from Alex's body in a rush, and he clamped his hand over his eyes. “No, no. This can't be true.”

“I'm afraid it is, buddy. Sorry I have to tell you.”

Alex took a deep breath. “Don't worry about it.” He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at Grace. “The police found Sam Jefferson shot to death.” Her mouth dropped open, and she sank onto the couch. Alex turned his attention back to Seth. “Are the police still at the scene?”

“I think the crime scene investigators are there now. The medical examiner has the body.”

“Thanks for calling, Seth. I'll see you in the morning.”

He ended the call and sat down beside Grace on the couch. “What happened?” she asked.

Alex related what Seth had told him and took a deep breath. “I need to make another call.” He punched in the number he'd called so many times in his years on the force. Dr. Harvey answered on the first ring.

“Medical examiner's office. Dr. Harvey speaking.”

“Dr. Harvey, this is Alex Crowne. I understand you've brought Sam Jefferson's body to your office.”

“Yes, Alex, but I haven't done any work yet.”

“I realize that, but there's something I'd like for you to check for me first. It may shed some light on a cold case I'm working.”

“What is it?”

“Would you check the victim's shoulders and see if he has a wolf tattooed on either one?”

“Sure, Alex. Give me a minute.”

Alex drummed his fingers on the sofa cushion as he waited for Dr. Harvey to return. Within minutes his voice came over the phone. “Alex?”

“Yes?”

“I checked, and he does indeed have a wolf tattoo. Do you want me to take some pictures of it and email them to you?”

“I would appreciate it very much. Thanks, Doc.”

“No problem.”

Alex disconnected the call and nodded. “He has the same tattoo Landon had. I think Mr. Mitchell must have been right. Those boys became involved in some kind of secret society and used the wolf as its symbol. And now five of the six are dead. We need to get to Clay as soon as possible. He may be next on the killer's list.”

“I think you're right,” Grace said.

“Or...” Alex paused. “As the only survivor, he may be the killer who's trying to protect some secret.”

Grace only nodded, but he could tell his words concerned her. She hadn't forgotten, and neither had he, that someone out there had also tried to kill her. It had to be tied into whatever Landon Mitchell and his friends had done twelve years ago. He hoped he could find the answer before someone else was silenced.

NINE

I
n the early afternoon the next day, Alex and Grace sped along Interstate 40 on the three-hour drive from Memphis to Nashville. Neither had spoken for the past fifteen minutes, and Grace didn't think she could endure the silence much longer. She glanced at Alex out of the corner of her eye and saw the muscle in his jaw twitch, a sign he was in deep thought. What was going on in his head? Was he upset over Sam's death, or was it something else? Their interrupted conversation last night might be the reason for his silence.

She took a deep breath and swiveled in her seat to face him. “I'm surprised you were able to reach Clay. I thought surely he would already have left Nashville for the holidays.”

Alex nodded. “I thought so, too. He said he and his wife are leaving later today for a skiing trip. They're spending the holidays in Germany.”

“Probably in Garmisch. Our families used to see each other there on skiing vacations. His father and mine loved skiing the trails of the Zugspitzplatt. It's a beautiful place.”

“I wouldn't know. I've never taken a ski trip. For that matter, I never learned to ski.”

“It's not too late, you know. You can still learn.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Not on a policeman's salary. Can't afford it.”

“Sure you can. There are a lot of places around that don't cost all that much. You could go there while you're saving up for a bigger trip later on.”

He cast a sideways glance at her before he turned his attention back to the highway. “I don't think so. Besides, there aren't many ski resorts in Florida.”

His words hit her like a punch in the stomach. She took a deep breath. “So you're really going to move.”

He nodded. “I'm considering it. It makes sense. Even if I don't get the chief of police job, I'm sure I can get on with one of the law enforcement agencies down there, and I can take care of my father.”

“I see. If that's what you want, I wish you well.”

She closed her eyes and settled back in her seat. The sound of the tires on the pavement lulled her, and she began to nod. The next thing she knew, Alex was shaking her shoulder. “Wake up, Grace. We're at the restaurant where I told Clay we would meet him.”

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. The afternoon sun had begun to sink into the west, and shadows stretched across the parking lot. Christmas lights around the roofline of the restaurant twinkled in the coming darkness.

She unbuckled her seat belt, pulled the sun visor down and looked in the mirror on the back. “The days are so short in winter. By five o'clock it'll be dark, and then we have the drive home.”

“I may let you drive back to Memphis so I can sleep like you did on the way to Nashville.”

She glanced around at him, and her heart thumped at his grin. “As long as you feed me, I can do that.”

He surveyed the restaurant. “Clay mentioned dinner, but I don't know when he has to leave for the airport. If he can't stay, we'll eat anyway.”

“I just hope he understands the urgency of what we have to ask him. We don't want him to end up like all his friends.”

Alex held up a finger as if to caution her. “Unless he's the killer. Remember that, and watch his every move. Also remember I have no jurisdiction here. This is strictly a meeting to question him about what he knows. He's not required to answer anything I ask him.”

She swallowed her fear. “Do you really think he could have been the one who tried to kill me?”

“I don't know. At this point I'd say with his connection to the other victims, we could consider him a person of interest.”

Grace nodded and opened the car door. Together they walked to the front door and entered the restaurant. Soft Christmas music drifted through the interior, and a decorated tree graced one corner of the entry. A young woman dressed in a knee-length full black skirt and a white blouse with billowing sleeves buttoned at the wrists greeted them.

“Good evening. Welcome to Antonio's. Do you have a reservation?”

Alex nodded. “Yes. It's in Clay Mercer's name.”

Her eyes lit in recognition, and she smiled. “Mr. Mercer's been here for a while. I'll show you to his table.”

As they followed the hostess to the table, Grace let her gaze drift over the restaurant. Since it would be several hours before the dinner crowd arrived, there were only a few customers seated at the elegantly draped tables adorned with flickering candles. Waiters and waitresses in their black pants with matching vests and white shirts bustled about the room as they prepared for expected customers.

Grace caught sight of Clay halfway across the room, and he waved to them. The boy whose family had shared vacations with the Kincaids was hardly visible in the man with the receding hairline and expanding waistline. He staggered a bit as he rose and clasped her hand when she stopped beside the table.

“Grace Kincaid. I can't believe it's you. I haven't seen you in years.” Clay's slurred words rolled from his mouth. The smell of alcohol on his breath let Grace know how Clay had spent his time waiting for them.

“It has been a long time, Clay.” She shook his hand and then eased into the chair Alex held for her next to Clay. She cast a smile over her shoulder. “Thanks, Alex.”

Clay's gaze drifted back to Alex, and he reached out and shook his hand. “And Alex. Good to see you, too. I don't think I've seen you since graduation.”

“It has been a while.”

Clay motioned for Alex to have a seat, then picked up his glass and swallowed what was left of his drink. With a cocky smile he held up the empty glass. “Marjorie, darling, find out what my friends are drinking and bring me one of these.”

Concern flickered in Marjorie's eyes, and she hesitated. “Mr. Mercer, you're already over your limit. Maybe you need to order something to eat.”

His eyes narrowed, and his face flushed. “Don't tell me what I need. Just do what I say.”

Marjorie's lips trembled, and she cast a quick look at Grace. “But Antonio said—”

Clay slammed the glass down on the table and glared at her. “I don't care what he said. I'm the customer, and I told you what I wanted.”

Grace smiled reassuringly at Marjorie. “All I want to drink is a glass of water.” She glanced up at Clay. “And I am a bit hungry. I'd really like to order. What about you, Alex?”

“Water's fine for me, too.” He smiled at the hostess. “If you'll have the waiter come over, we'll order.”

Marjorie cast a grateful smile in their direction and hurried away from the table. Clay shook his head and frowned as he sank back into his chair. “I keep telling Antonio he should get better help in here, but he won't listen to me.”

Grace started to respond, but the waiter arrived at that moment to tell them the specials of the day. After ordering, Clay slumped back in his seat and looked from Grace to Alex. “Okay, so let's have it. I don't think a TV anchor and a police detective drove all the way from Memphis to Nashville just to have a reunion with a high school classmate. What do you two really want?”

Alex leaned forward and crossed his arms on top of the table. “We want to talk to you about Landon Mitchell.”

Clay picked up his water glass and took a drink. When he set it back on the table, it wobbled, and he grabbed it to keep it from turning over. “Are you talking about the kid who committed suicide when we were in high school?”

“Yes.”

Clay shrugged. “I don't know how I can help. I barely knew him.”

Grace shook her head. “That's not true, Clay. You and Landon were inseparable our senior year. I saw the two of you together all the time.”

“We were lab partners in chemistry class. We were only together to study.” He reached for his glass again, and his hand shook.

Grace reached over and placed her hand on his arm. “Clay, Landon didn't take chemistry our senior year.”

His face grew red, and he glared at her. “Yes, he did.”

“No, he didn't. I know what his schedule was because it was just like mine. And he didn't take chemistry.”

He shook free of her and shrugged. “Then maybe I'm mixed up. It must have been our junior year. Anyway, what does a twelve-year-old suicide have to do with me?”

Alex's stare bored into Clay. “It's strange, isn't it, that so many of the kids we graduated with are dead now.”

“Wh-what do you mean?” Clay asked.

Alex pursed his lips as if in deep thought. “Well, there's Landon, of course, and Jeremy, Billy and Dustin. You remember all of them, don't you?”

Clay picked up his drink glass and frowned at the empty container. “Of course I remember them.”

“And now Sam Jefferson.”

Clay's mouth twitched, and he swallowed before he set the glass back on the table. “Sam's dead?”

Alex nodded. “Yes. He was murdered yesterday.”

Grace had expected a violent reaction from Clay, but it didn't happen. Instead, he sat perfectly still. After a moment, he took a deep breath. “What do you really want from me, Alex?”

Alex leaned forward. “For starters, Clay, I'd like to know if you have a wolf tattooed on your shoulder.”

He shook his head. “No, I don't.”

“Landon did, and so did Sam.”

Clay sighed. “I wouldn't know anything about that.”

Alex didn't blink as he stared at Clay. “Would you be willing to prove it to me?”

Clay frowned and shook his head. “Why should I have to prove anything to you?”

“Because then we'll know you weren't part of the group that had the tattoos.”

Clay pushed his chair back from the table and glanced at them. “You don't have any proof that I know anything about Landon's death or you'd have a warrant. Now why don't we agree to have dinner as three old friends and leave it at that?”

Alex shook his head. “Because right now the Memphis police are investigating Sam's murder. You're going to have to talk to them at some point. Why not do it now instead of later?”

Clay worried his lip and looked at Grace. “I'm really sorry about Sam. He was a good friend. It looks like I'm the only one of our group of friends left.”

Grace nodded. “If you know anything that can help Alex find out who killed Sam, you need to tell him.”

He shook his head. “I don't know anything about Sam's murder or what happened to the others.” He glanced down at his glass again and sighed. “All this talk has made me thirsty. I sure could use another drink before dinner. I don't care what Marjorie and Antonio say.” He rose and laid his napkin on the table. “I'm going to speak with the bartender. I'll be back in a minute.”

Grace's gaze followed him as he strode across the dining room. When he disappeared into the bar area, she looked at Alex and frowned. “He seemed genuinely sorry about Sam's death. Do you think he could be the murderer?”

Alex shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe he'll say something else while we're eating that will shed some light on this case. I just hope the bartender doesn't give him another drink. His blood alcohol is probably already too high to drive.”

Grace nodded and glanced around the room. Several tables had filled while they'd been talking with Clay. Her wandering gaze locked on a young couple a few tables away from them. A large Christmas shopping bag sat in the empty chair next to the woman, and she smiled as she pulled out a doll and passed it to the man. His eyes lit up, and he nodded and smiled as he examined the toy. Her heart lurched. They must be a married couple, and the woman had just purchased the doll for their daughter's Christmas present. How happy they looked.

She shifted her gaze to Alex and struggled to keep tears from filling her eyes. If things had worked out for them, she and Alex might very well be discussing Christmas presents for their children. Instead, all that drew them together this Christmas were some unsolved murders and attempts on her life.

“Excuse me.” A voice interrupted her thoughts, and she glanced up to see Marjorie standing by their table. “Mr. Mercer asked me to give you a message.”

Alex's gaze darted past her to the entrance to the bar. “Is there a problem?”

She nodded. “I'm afraid so. He asked me to tell you he received an urgent phone call and had to leave. Your dinner is paid for, and it will be here in a few minutes. He said for you to enjoy your time here and he'll phone you when he gets back from Germany.”

Alex let out a long breath. “Thank you for telling us.”

Grace waited for Marjorie to leave before she spoke. “Can you believe that?”

“I should have suspected he was up to something and gone with him.” The look on his face reminded Grace of how Alex used to look when she beat him at one of the board games they loved. Amusement bubbled up in her. She pressed her hand against her mouth, but it was no use. A loud burst of laughter escaped her lips. He frowned. “What's the matter?”

She struggled to quiet down. “I was just thinking we are pathetic. Here you are a police detective who deals with criminals all the time and I'm a journalist who interviews people from all walks of life. We're trained to tell when people are lying, and neither one of us tried to stop Clay from walking out of here.”

He regarded her with a serious look for a moment, then his lips pulled into a grin. A sheepish expression covered his face. “You're right. We let him outsmart us. We'll have to be more careful in the future.”

Her laughter died, and she crossed her arms on top of the table. “Do you think we'll get the chance to question him again?”

Alex nodded. “Oh, yeah. And the next time he won't get away so easily.”

Two waiters appeared at their table just as he finished speaking. The smells from the covered plates they carried made Grace's stomach growl, and she pressed her hand to her abdomen. “Mmm, that smells good.”