Marta Perry - How Secrets Die

“An overdose, yes.” Her throat tightened. “I don’t imagine any coroner could miss that. But why? He’d been clean for nearly three years. He’d graduated with honors. He had a bright future. Why would he throw all that away?”

“Addiction is a day-by-day battle.” Mac rubbed the back of his neck, and frustration threaded his words. “Twenty years ago the worst thing Laurel Ridge cops had to deal with was a Saturday night drunk. Now we fight drugs like every other place in the country.”

“Do you think I don’t know that? I helped him through a couple of relapses. But he was doing so well. Something happened to him while he was here in Laurel Ridge that summer. Something that ended with him lying dead in that cemetery.” What? A breakup? A fresh battle with his father? Trouble at his job? There had to be something. Each time he’d relapsed, something had triggered it.

And if she never found that trigger? Either way, the responsibility came back to her. Her throat closed entirely, and she fought to hold back tears, shaking her head as she turned away from him.

He touched her arm in mute sympathy and guided her to the sofa. He drew the armchair closer and sat like a man prepared to wait as long as it took.

Kate sucked in a breath and swallowed hard. “All right,” she muttered.

“The coroner did confirm that there hadn’t been drugs in his system for some time before the overdose.” Mac’s tone was carefully neutral, as if he understood she needed that to hang on to her precarious control. “But what makes you think it was something that happened here that pushed him into it? Did he say anything to you about dealing?”

His attention seemed to sharpen on the question. Naturally that would be his first thought—that someone was bringing drugs into his town.

“If you’re thinking it was Jason, you’re wrong,” she said flatly. “He wouldn’t. And he hadn’t left here all summer, anyway.”

That had been part of Jason’s determination to make it on his own this time, without leaning on his big sister. He’d stay here for the duration of his internship. Phone calls only—no visits. And Jason never had expressed himself well on the phone. She needed to see his face to know what was happening with him.

“I know that. Obviously we looked into it—the drugs had to come from somewhere. Since he didn’t go anywhere to get them, someone brought them in. We never found out who.”

That had frustrated him. She could see it in his suddenly taut face.

“You don’t know who. But you must have some idea.” She leaned toward him, suddenly urgent. “There can’t be that many potential dealers in a place like this.”

“You’d be surprised.” His lips twisted wryly. “I had some ideas, yeah, but they all came up empty.” He jerked a nod toward the computer. “That file—what does that have to do with it?”

Kate rubbed her forehead as if she could scour away some of the confusion. “Jason kept a sort of video diary. Not every day, but most of the summer.”

“You didn’t find it until your stepfather died.”

She nodded. He was putting the pieces together. “Tom had kept everything that was returned to him, but I doubt he ever looked at it. When I started watching the diary...” She paused, not wanting to say more than she had to. Still, the time for that might have already passed. “I could see how excited and enthusiastic he was at the beginning of the summer. But something changed. He was worried, maybe even scared, about some situation. I think at his work, but I can’t be sure.”

“What precisely did he say? You must know that much.” Mac glanced at the computer again, probably longing to wrest the truth from it.

“It’s not as easy as that. Jason wasn’t exactly direct. He had a way of talking about places and people in a kind of code. I doubt you’d understand any of it.” Just in case he was thinking he’d walk away with her file.

Mac stood, as if he couldn’t pretend to relax for another moment. “Let me see it.”

“No.” She rose as well, facing him. “It’s personal, and you have no right...”

“It could be evidence in a drug case.” He left implied the threat that he could get a subpoena if she didn’t cooperate. “Whatever this code is, it can be broken.”

She’d laugh if this were anything but deadly serious. “It’s not that kind of code.” It was no good—she’d have to tell him more, or she’d never get rid of him. “Jason always loved fantasy—books, games, movies, whatever. I tried to keep up, just so I could share something with him. He’d refer to people and situations with references from fantasy that even I didn’t always understand.” She nodded toward the image of his face, frozen on the screen. “That’s what he did in the diary. He would have known what he meant, but the chances that anyone else could figure it out are slim to none.”

“But that’s what you’re trying to do. That’s why you came here. To see the layout for yourself, to meet the people, to figure out what or who led your brother to his death.”

There was no point in denying it. “It’s my own business,” she repeated stubbornly. “If I find anything that looks like a police matter, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Not good enough.” Mac could apparently be equally stubborn. “You’re not going to be conducting any sort of crusade in my town. Not unless I’m involved every step of the way.”

“You can’t force me...”

He raised an eyebrow. “Force? Who said anything about force? But either you let me in on it, or I’ll make it impossible for you to find out anything about anyone here. It wouldn’t even be hard. A few words to a few people, and you won’t find a soul in Laurel Ridge willing to talk to you.”

She didn’t doubt he could do it. “That’s blackmail.”

“That’s me, doing my job, whether you want me to or not.” His lips quirked, but his eyes were intent. “Take it or leave it.”

Kate wanted to kick him out. To say she’d manage this herself. Trouble was, he held all the cards.

“All right,” she said finally. “You win. I’ll take it.”

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