Authors: Lynette Eason
The waiters set the plates in front of them and removed their covers. “Is everything satisfactory?” one of them asked.
“Mine looks scrumptious,” Grace said.
“And my steak is perfect,” Alex added.
When the two men had left, Grace picked up her fork and knife and cut off a bite of chicken. Before she could raise it to her mouth, Alex spoke. “Grace?”
She halted, her fork in midair, and looked up at him. His gaze drifted over her face, and her skin tingled. “Yes?”
“I've enjoyed being with you these past few days.”
She swallowed and nodded. “I've enjoyed it, too.”
“I'm kind of glad Clay ran out on us. He's not here, and we're not at the table with your parents. Tonight we can just enjoy being together.”
Before she could respond, he looked back at his plate and began to cut into his steak. She smiled and dropped her gaze back to her plate. Over the past few days she and Alex had become more comfortable around each other, and she was glad. Their friendship had been the best part of her childhood, and she hoped they could eventually reach the place where they could lay the bad memories of their adulthood to rest.
With a sigh she raised her fork to her lips and closed them around the bite of chicken.
* * *
Alex relaxed behind the wheel of the car and hummed along with the music of his favorite Memphis radio station as he cruised along Interstate 40. He glanced over at Grace sleeping soundly in the passenger seat and smiled.
It seemed so right to have her in the car with him. He'd been lonely since their breakup, and a day didn't go by without some memory of her popping into his head. Some days it might have been an angry thought, but most of the time it was about the good times they'd spent together, especially during their childhood.
She groaned in her sleep, and he jerked his head to glance at her. A look as if she were in pain flashed across her face, and she moaned again. “No, no.”
He reached over and gave her a gentle shake. “Grace, are you all right?”
Her eyes blinked open. She looked at him with a wild-eyed stare and sat up straight in her seat. “Alex...”
“I'm here, Grace.”
She turned her head from side to side as if to get her bearings and rubbed her hands over her eyes. She exhaled a deep breath. “Where are we?”
“Just outside of Memphis. You called out in your sleep.”
She yawned and settled back in her seat. “I must have been dreaming. I don't know what it was, though.”
“We should be at your house before too long. You can go right to bed.”
She shook her head. “No, I'll have to wait up for my parents. They went to see the church's Christmas program tonight. In fact, they took our maid and cook with them, as well. There shouldn't be anybody at home when I get there.”
“Then maybe I'd better stay until they get home.”
She glanced at the clock on the car dashboard. “If you don't mind, I'd appreciate your doing that. I didn't think I'd ever be afraid to stay alone. I suppose those two attempts to kill me have changed my mind, but my parents should be home soon. I'm sorry to be such a nuisance.”
He nodded and kept his attention directed to the traffic, which had increased since they got closer to the city. “You aren't a nuisance. You've been a lot braver than most people would have been in your situation. I'm glad to see that you're finally beginning to be cautious instead of charging in without thinking.”
“Oh, is that what you think I do? Charge in without thinking?”
He chuckled. “I'd say that's right. Do you remember the time when we were about twelve years old and you decided you wanted a soft drink and there weren't any in the refrigerator in the kitchen?”
She laughed. “So I decided to borrow my mother's car and drive down to the convenience store and get some for you and me to drink.”
“Yeah. I tried to talk you out of it, but you wouldn't listen.”
“And you were afraid for me go alone,” Grace continued, “so you jumped in the car with me so you could help me if anything happened.”
By this time they were both laughing. Alex glanced at her. “And we didn't make it down the driveway before you hit a tree.”
Grace lay back in the seat and shook her head. “I don't think I've ever seen my father so angry. I was grounded for weeks.”
“As well you deserved to be.” They rode in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts, before Alex spoke again. “We have some great memories, Grace.”
“Yes, we do,” she whispered and turned to gaze out the window.
Thirty minutes later he pulled the car to a stop at the gate to Grace's house and typed in the code. The big iron gates opened, and he drove through the entrance to the walled Kincaid estate. He watched in the rearview mirror as the gates closed automatically behind him.
Beside him, Grace leaned forward in her seat and looked through the windshield. “That's strange.”
“What is?”
She pointed toward the house. “Look. Every light in the house is on.”
He stared straight ahead and frowned at the bright beams shining through every window. The house practically glowed it was so lit up. “Is that unusual?”
She nodded. “My parents are always after me to turn out a light when I leave a room to conserve energy. There's no way they would have left home with every bulb in the house burning.”
“Are you sure? Maybe they wanted the outside Christmas decorations to show up.”
She shook her head. “I know my parents. They would never have left all those lights on.”
Alex pulled the car to a stop at the front of the house and got out. Grace jumped out and fumbled in her purse for her key as she ran toward the front steps. He raced around the front of the vehicle and caught her arm just as she started up the steps. “Wait, Grace. Let me go first.”
She turned back to him, her eyes wide. “Why? Do you think something's wrong?”
He stepped in front of her and pulled his gun from the holster. “I don't know, but I need to check this out before we go bursting in there.”
She gasped, and her hand covered her mouth. “Do you think someone could be in there?”
“Could be. Go ahead and unlock the door for me, but wait on the porch. I'll be back in a few minutes.”
She nodded and started to stick the key in the door but turned back to him. “The door's open. It looks like somebody jimmied it.”
He pulled her away from the door, reached for his cell phone and dialed 911. When the operator answered, he identified himself. “I need backup for a B and E at 3947 Tulip Grove Road. I'm entering the house now.” He glanced over his shoulder at Grace. “Drive my car back to the gate and open it for the police. Don't come inside the house until we've cleared it.”
She nodded and backed away. He waited until she drove down the driveway before he entered the house. Holding the gun in front of him, he eased inside and swept it back and forth as he surveyed the scene before him. The home looked as if a whirlwind had ripped through it. Sofas and chairs, their pillows cut open and the stuffing pulled out, lay overturned amid upended tables and shattered lamps. Picture frames with their glass broken out hung at crooked angles on the wall.
In the den the Christmas tree lay on its side, its broken ornaments scattered across the floor. The Christmas presents had been opened, and the items that had been inside littered the floor.
The sound of a police siren split the air, and he pulled out his badge. He'd just arrived at the front door when the first patrol car pulled to a stop. He held his badge up as the officers jumped out of the cruiser. “I'm Detective Alex Crowne. I've cleared the front rooms downstairs, but I haven't been upstairs or checked the back of the house.”
Two more cars with Grace trailing behind rolled to a stop, and officers rushed to the porch. The officer in charge nodded to Alex. “Thanks. We'll take it from here.”
Alex moved out of the way and met Grace at the bottom of the steps. “Was there anyone inside?”
“I didn't see anyone, but the officers are checking.” He took a deep breath. “Grace, it looks bad in there. It looks like somebody took their time and moved from room to room trashing everything in their path.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she started toward the porch. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “You can't go in there yet. The police are still working, and you need to be prepared when you see it.”
She turned back to him, and his heart thudded at the fear in her eyes. “It's the killer, isn't it? I've survived his attempts to kill me, so he wants to hurt me in another way by destroying my home. Why does he hate me so?”
“I don't know.” A wail escaped her throat, and she covered her eyes with her hands as the tears rolled down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook, and before he realized what he was doing, he had wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. She laid her head against his chest, and he tightened his arms. “Don't cry. It's going to be all right.”
She pulled back and stared up into his eyes. “It's not going to be all right. I should have listened to you. You warned me about getting involved in Landon's death, and now I've brought more misery on my parents. They have enough to face with my father's condition. In the past week they've had to worry about me almost being killed twice, and now they're going to come back to a vandalized home. They don't deserve this.”
She sagged against him, and her head dropped to his chest. He didn't know what to say that would comfort her. This latest development probably was related to the Mitchell case, but it also told him something else. Mr. Mitchell had been right about his son being murdered, and he and Grace must have gotten close to some answers. But if Landon's killer had come into the Kincaids' house, he had to know they wouldn't be home and he had to know how to access the property some way other than through the main gate.
Perhaps the killer knew more about the Kincaids than Alex had thought. He could have been watching them all along. He tightened his arms around Grace and looked out into the dark night. “Don't worry, Grace,” he whispered. “I promise you we'll get this guy.”
TEN
A
n hour after coming home to the chaos inside the house, Grace stood on the front porch, two suitcases at her feet, and scanned the driveway leading from the now-open gate. Police cars, some with their blue lights still flashing, were parked up and down the driveway. From time to time she could hear voices inside the house and wondered if the officers had found any clues as to who had invaded their home.
The front door opened, and Alex stepped onto the porch. “I thought I'd check and see if your parents had gotten here yet.”
She shook her head. “Mom called when they left the church to see if I'd gotten home, and I told her what had happened. They're on their way now.”
He glanced down at the suitcases. “Were you able to find enough clothes for all of you to take with you?”
“Yes. There had been some left in the closets of the bedrooms, and I collected enough for overnight. I called the Peabody and reserved us a suite with two bedrooms, and I called the drugstore.” Anger flowed through her, and she clenched her hands at her sides. “Why did he have to pour all my father's medications in the toilet and then not flush it? It was almost like a taunt to see his medicine in the water and know it was useless to help with pain if needed.”
“I know. I've seen burglars and vandals do a lot of crazy things. It's hard to know the mindset of someone like that. What did the pharmacist say when you talked with him?”
Grace let out a long breath. “I explained the situation, and he said we could get enough medicine to get us through the night. We'll contact the doctor in the morning for new prescriptions.”
“Good.” Alex stared toward the gate as a vehicle turned into the driveway. “Is that your folks' van?”
“No, that's the WKIZ van.”
He turned to her and frowned. “What's it doing here?”
“I called Derek, the cameraman that came to the bridge with me, and asked him to come over and bring a reporter.”
“Why?”
Grace steeled herself for Alex's anger when she told him what she had planned. “I'm going to do a live feed on the ten o'clock news.”
“You're what?” The words exploded out of Alex's mouth.
“I talked with the producer, and he okayed it. I'm going to let the person who did this know he can't scare me. We may not be able to prove it yet, but I know whoever did this killed Landon and a lot of other people.”
Alex raked his hand through his hair. “Grace, I don't thinkâ”
She reached out and grasped his arm. “Alex, this guy has killed people we went to school with, he's attempted to kill me and now he's violated the security of my home. Reporting is my job, and I have to cover this story.”
After a moment he nodded, then directed his gaze back down the driveway where a second vehicle had just entered. “Tell that to your folks. Here they come.” He picked up the suitcases and waited for her parents' van to come to a stop.
Grace walked down the steps with Alex behind her, motioned for Derek to park beside the house, and waited for her mother to stop next to her. She then opened the sliding door on the side and peered in at her father strapped in his wheelchair.
She reached in and grasped his outstretched hand. “The police haven't finished inside yet, so there's no need for you to come in. Go on to the Peabody, but don't forget the medicine at the drugstore. The pharmacist said he'd have it at the drive-through. I'll meet you at the hotel when I can leave here.”
Her father shook his head. “I don't want you driving downtown alone.”
Alex shoved the two bags into the van and glanced at Grace. “Don't worry, sir. I'll drive Grace down there and see that she's settled.”
Grace frowned. “Alex, that's notâ”
He held up his hand to stop her. “I insist. No discussion needed.”
Her parents exchanged quick glances, and a smile pulled at her father's lips. “Thanks, Alex. It seems like I'm thanking you a lot lately for taking care of my daughter.” His gaze drifted to the house. “For years I worked day and night to buy the things I thought would make my family happy. Now I realize those were just possessions. There's nothing in that house that can even start to compare with the safety of my wife and daughter. I wish I had learned that lesson sooner.”
Grace patted his hand and smiled. “Don't think about that now, Dad. You go with Mother, and I'll see the two of you later.”
She and Alex watched as her mother turned the van around and drove back toward the gate. When the van turned onto the road leading toward the city, Alex looked at her and shook his head. “I still can't believe how much your father has changed. He's not the same man I knew.”
“I know. That's what happens when God takes over in someone's life. He becomes a new person.”
“I've heard that, but I never thought it possible. Now I've seen it with my own eyes. It makes me wish I could be more like your father.”
She smiled up at him. “You can, Alex. All you have to do is open up your heart to God.”
He shrugged. “I'll think about it.” He glanced past her and frowned. “Here comes the cameraman. It's not too late to change your mind.”
She turned to smile at Derek, but her mouth opened in surprise at the sight of Julie Colter walking with him. They came to a stop beside her, and she glanced from one to the other. “Julie, what a surprise. I didn't expect to see you.”
Julie bit down on her lip and glanced up at Derek. “Well, you see...” She hesitated and turned to Derek.
Derek shifted the camera he was carrying in his arms and smiled at Julie “She's going to do your interview.”
Grace's eyes grew wide. “Wh-what?”
Derek nodded. “Julie's been talking to me at the station, and she's not cut out for what management has her doing. They told her she'd get a chance to prove herself with some public interest stories. So far they haven't followed through on their promise. How about it, Grace? Let's give her a chance.”
Grace blinked and searched her mind for something to say. Did she really want klutzy Julie to do this interview? Since the girl had arrived at the station, she'd made so many mistakes the station manager was about to fire her.
Before she could reply to Derek's question, Julie lifted her chin and took a deep breath. “I know I've made some mistakes, Miss Kincaid, but nobody has ever really given me any guidance. I've tried to do what I thought the manager wanted, but I haven't seemed to please him. I have a degree in journalism, and I worked at my college's TV station as a reporter. In fact, I won some awards, but he won't give me an assignment. Derek is trying to help me out. I'd be forever grateful if you would, too.”
Grace cast a helpless glance at Alex who shrugged and then to Derek before she locked gazes with Julie. “But this is a live feed into the news which is in progress right now. There'll be no do-overs, and we can't correct any mistakes we make. Do you understand?”
Julie nodded, and the plea that sparkled in her eyes reminded Grace of her own hunger for a first chance to do an on-camera interview. She'd been fortunate, though. There were many people who'd helped her, including Richard Champion. Without their support she wouldn't be a news anchor today.
Had she paid their support forward and helped another wannabe reporter? The answer made her cringe. She couldn't recall one single person she'd helped. Instead of thanking God for all the blessings He'd showered on her, she'd spent years dwelling on the bad things that had happened in her lifeâher breakup with Alex, Richard's unfaithfulness and her father's attack. It was time for a change in her life.
Some things like her misguided infatuation with Richard and her father's injuries couldn't be changed, and she and Alex might never recapture their childhood friendship, but she could still be happy. She could start right now by helping a young reporter get her first story.
She smiled at Julie. “I think Derek had a good idea, Julie. Let's do an interview that will get you noticed.”
Julie glanced at Derek, and the look that passed between them reminded her of the way she and Alex used to look at each other. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Alex watching them also. A smile crooked his mouth, and tears filled her eyes. It was the same way he'd smiled at her when they were children and he approved of something she'd done. But they weren't children anymore.
She took a deep breath and motioned for Derek and Julie to follow her into the house.
* * *
Alex stood inside the Kincaids' den near the door and watched Julie discussing the upcoming interview with Grace. He remembered the day he'd gone to the TV station and how Grace had complained about the girl's incompetence. Minutes ago she'd agreed to let Julie interview her on a live feed.
He smiled and let his gaze travel over Grace who had always held everyone, herself included, to the highest standards when reporting the news. Why would she allow an unproven reporter to interview her on a breaking story? The answer came to him almost before the question had flashed in his mind. It was because of the path Grace's life had taken in her new relationship with God. Like her parents, her eyes had been opened to the needs in others, and she was different in many ways than she'd been before. He couldn't deny he liked the new Grace much better than the one he'd known all his life.
In an effort to bring his thoughts back to the matter at hand, he turned his attention to Julie who was bustling about the room like a director getting ready to stage a play. Her commanding professional attitude indicated she hadn't wasted her time at the station. She'd been watching, and she'd been learning. He hoped she could please Grace, who at the moment appeared to be following Julie's instructions to stand in the middle of the broken ornaments littering the floor from the fallen Christmas tree.
Julie turned to Derek for their last sound check. When they'd finished, he held up three fingers and mouthed the countdown to her. Julie looked into the camera with a no-nonsense expression on her face.
“This is Julie Colter coming to you live from the home of WKIZ news anchor Grace Kincaid. As much as I wish this was a social visit, I'm here tonight with Grace to discuss the vandalism of her beautiful home.” She paused as the camera swept the room. “As you can see, some unknown person or persons entered the home while the family was away and left a trail of destruction throughout the entire house. Police are on the scene as we speak, and one of my sources tells me evidence has been recovered that may lead to an arrest.” She paused and faced Grace. “This must have been a terrible shock when you arrived home tonight. What was your reaction when you walked in to find your home had been invaded?”
Alex couldn't take his eyes off Grace as she proceeded to relate the shock of walking in to find nearly everything in the house destroyed. With sympathy flickering in her eyes, Julie hung on every word Grace spoke.
Grace paused and then addressed the camera. “I'm sure anyone who has come home to find their home burglarized knows how violated I'm feeling right now. We read about these things happening or we see it on the news, but somehow we never think we'll be the victim of a crime. Yet it happens all the time.”
Julie nodded. “You're right. According to statistics, a burglary happens every fourteen seconds, and the number is rising every year. We all are potential victims.” She turned back to Grace. “One of the deterrents to home invasion is a security system. Does your home have one?”
“Yes, but unfortunately it wasn't working. Either my parents forgot to turn it on when they left or the burglar disabled it. If my parents did forget, we'll have to make sure they don't again.”
“And speaking of your parents,” Julie continued, “I know they aren't here right now. How are they holding up? Your father especially. We were all saddened when he was gunned down in a drive-by shooting earlier this year.”
“They're doing all right. My father is strong, and he'll get through this. Whoever shot him may have taken the use of his legs away, but it's made a stronger man out of him. I'm very proud of him.”
“That's good to hear. Grace, we only have a minute left, and I understand you'd like to make a statement to our viewers.”
Grace smiled. “I would. As many of you know, a few days ago I reported the death of Timothy Mitchell, who jumped from the Memphis-Arkansas Bridge. He was the father of one of my high school friends who was thought to have committed suicide twelve years ago. Thanks to the help of Detective Alex Crowne, I have been able to investigate Mr. Mitchell's belief that his son was murdered. Our findings suggest he may have been right. In pursuing this case, however, I've been shot at, poisoned by a cyanide-laced note and now my home has been vandalized.”
“Excuse me, Grace,” Julie interrupted. “Are you saying you believe Landon Mitchell was indeed murdered and his killer is responsible for the acts of violence you've suffered since you broke the story of his father's plunge from the Memphis-Arkansas Bridge?”
“I am. In fact, I'm convinced of it.” Grace glanced over at him, and Alex smiled. Then she continued. “So, I want to take this opportunity to let the murderer, who thinks he can intimidate me, know his attempts to stop the search for the truth haven't worked. The police are on this case and before too long I expect they'll have the answer to who murdered Landon Mitchell and at least four other people. You can't stay hidden forever.”
Julie frowned and leaned closer to Grace. “Those are brave words, Grace, and I'm sure our viewers wish you well in your search. Is there anything the public can do to help?”
“Yes, there is.” She paused and took a breath. “One of you viewing this report may have information about the deaths of Landon Mitchell or Sam Jefferson, or about a secret high school club whose members were tattooed with a wolf. If you do, get in touch with me. You can leave a message on my voice mail at the station or you can email me at my address on the station's website.”