Jessica R. Patch - Cold Case Christmas

He opened the door and braved the nasty weather. East Tennessee had its perks, though. Splendor Pines was the gateway to the gorgeous Smoky Mountains, capped in white at the moment. But now, in the darkness, with the mountains shadowing the horizon, everything appeared sinister, especially with the headlights shining on the rusted and mud-caked car they’d dragged from the lake.

The crunching of tires on gravel turned Rush’s attention from the car and the pit in his gut. Sherriff Troy Parsons parked beside him and climbed out. He frowned and flipped his collar over his ears. “Well?” he asked in his gruff voice.

“It’s a Jaguar. Deputy Tate ran the plates. It’s hers.”

Troy grunted. Rush didn’t need to expound. Marilyn Livingstone had driven a Jaguar and she’d been missing since Christmas Eve seventeen years ago.

“Remains inside?”

“Skeletal. I think DNA is going to confirm it.”

“Any other remains?”

“No.”

Troy cocked his head, studied the vehicle dripping with water and debris. “Theories?”

Rush had plenty. But speculating aloud wasn’t smart. Especially with the small crowd that had gathered. He moved closer to Troy, his mentor and father figure after Dad became a shell of the man he once was. “I know rumors say she ran off with a man that Christmas Eve.” One of many she’d been whispered to have had affairs with. Not all were lies. Rush had witnessed it with his own eyes on the very night Marilyn vanished. Only Troy knew his secret.

Troy hunched in the cold and rolled his toothpick around lips that were hidden by a dark mustache and beard. “You want to call the Livingstones? Or would you rather not deal with talking to the eldest daughter?”

“You can say her name.” Nora. The woman Rush thought he was going to marry. Then Marilyn went missing and metaphorically, so did Nora. She retreated into herself and broke things off just before she left for college. Rush sighed, took his flashlight and trudged through the snow to the car. A crime scene tech was photographing and collecting materials. “Find anything?”

“A round, silver cuff link and partial remains of a man’s masquerade mask.”

Could they have belonged to the man Rush had seen Marilyn with that night? He turned to Troy. “How do you want to proceed?”

“I don’t know why she’d be out this far from home with the biggest event of the year going on, but it turned into a tragic accident. Pretty cut-and-dried, don’t you think?”

Seemed so. “Suppose we’ll know more once Gary can examine the bones. Course he won’t be able to determine cause of death if it’s drowning,” Rush said.

“What else would it be? Other than maybe the impact of crashing into the lake knocked her out. I’ll be honest, I hope that’s the case and she wasn’t conscious when the waters took her. But let’s leave it to Gary. He ought to be rolling in soon.”

Rush agreed.

“We need to call Joshua,” Troy said. “He’ll want to know we’ve discovered his wife.” Joshua Livingstone owned the biggest resort and lodge in Splendor Pines. A powerful man, but one of the kindest Rush had ever known. He’d handled the many rumors about his wife with poised grace. Which—if Rush hadn’t witnessed Marilyn kissing a man in a Phantom of the Opera mask that night of the annual Christmas Eve Masquerade Ball—he wouldn’t have believed. What kind of man wouldn’t have a meltdown over his wife cheating on him? Numerous times—if all the tales were true.

Rush adjusted his wool collar; icy beads had steadily slicked down his neck, but he didn’t mind. His whole body was flushed. “I guess Nora will come home.” Granted she came every Christmas Day, but only for the day. Rush had to share some of the blame for that.

“You ready?” Troy asked.

Was anyone ready to see the person they thought they’d have the rest of their lives with? “I’ve moved on, Troy.”

“And your last date was?”

“Six months ago with Brandy Walker.” She was sweet. Lived in the neighboring town. They met at a church singles social. But he hadn’t felt a spark. Would he ever? Would he always be a lonely bachelor living in a house too big for one man on the side of the mountain?

Troy grunted. “I know Nora was a pretty little thing. Still is. But at some point, you’re going to have to stop comparing other women to her. Who’s to say you’d even have a thing in common with her anymore?”

The downside to father figures. They felt the license to say whatever and whenever. And however. “I’m over Nora Livingstone. Not finding the right woman has nothing to do with her and everything with God’s timing.” Which was slower than Grandma Buchanan’s homemade sorghum. “Sometimes I wish you weren’t my mentor,” he deadpanned.

“Sometimes I do too.” Troy smirked. “I’ll call Joshua and give him the news. Merry early Christmas.”

“And a happy New Year to no one,” Rush muttered.

Troy shook his head and climbed back inside his vehicle to make the call, leaving Rush to the wreckage. The body. Why would you leave Nora and Hailey, Marilyn? She may not have been faithful to her husband, but she’d doted on her girls.

New gawkers arrived with local media.

“Is that Marilyn’s car?” a few asked.

“Poor Joshua.”

“He’s probably relieved to be rid of that...”

Insults, opinions and gossipy speculation rode on the wind, slapping Rush’s face with frozen fingers. Gossip murdered the spirit. He’d witnessed it happen to his own father. Over ten years now and he’d never returned to pastoring or part-time law enforcement no matter how hard Rush and the rest of his family prayed. Dad had chosen to hide from everything and everyone.

Rush turned on the crowd. “Someone is dead. This person had family and friends, so show a little respect, please, or I’ll have every last one of you dragged from here. Am I clear?”

The onlookers quieted. For now.

Before long a black Escalade pulled up next to Rush’s Bronco. Joshua Livingstone—larger than life in his long, black fancy coat—stepped out. Jet-black hair and intense eyes, the same color, focused on Rush. “Troy called.” His voice was baritone but soft. Rush recognized the sorrow, the need for answers. Hailey, Nora’s younger sister, sat in the passenger side, tears rolling down her cheeks—she looked so much like her sister, only her hair was a darker blond and she had Joshua’s eyes. She’d been through a lot lately with her separation from her husband. She and their son lived at the main house with Joshua. Rush hated to be the bearer of bad news, but now they might be able to find peace.

“All we know is the car is registered to you, and I’m sure you can tell it’s Marilyn’s. The...remains need a DNA test but I’m pretty sure they’ll come back as your wife’s. I’m so sorry for your loss, Joshua.”

Troy returned and shook hands with Joshua.

Joshua stared at the car. “Any idea what happened?”

Rush sighed and glanced at the car that had once been shiny and sleek. “You know what the weather is like up here this time of year. Seems a tragic accident.”

Joshua nodded. “When can we have her for a proper burial?”

“We need to officially confirm it’s her. After that, I see no reason why you can’t have her back.”

They stood silently staring for several long minutes until another set of headlights flashed behind Joshua’s Escalade. Rush squinted, blinded by the lights. The driver didn’t bother to kill them before the door to the car opened and a woman’s figure stepped out, slipped under the crime scene tape and stomped toward him.

“Hey,” he shouted. “You can’t be out here.”

“The cumulus clouds I can’t!” she hollered back.