Jessica R. Patch - Cold Case Christmas

“Secrets don’t protect people. They hurt people.” She slid him a sideways glance. He’d kept the fact he was dating Ainsley from her, and it hadn’t spared her feelings. It had hurt more than anything. Her secrets of why she was back now would hurt and disappoint Dad.

They stepped off the elevator and took in the beautiful snowcapped view from the wall of windows that lined the hall and the dining area.

“I’m going to try to follow that money trail, Rush. It came from somewhere. If I can track it, I can get answers.”

Rush pulled a chair out for her and sat across from her. She didn’t miss his grimace. “I reviewed the initial police report from when she went missing, and the follow-up notes from Sheriff Parsons. Nothing about money. Nothing at all that would be a lead.”

“What did your dad say?”

Rush unrolled his silverware, a grim expression. “I haven’t had time to talk to him.”

“You haven’t had time?” She stared at him dumbfounded.

Rush balled his fist on the table. “Anything he would know would have been put in the report, Nora. And I was a little busy last night taking care of you.”

Nora counted to ten. Rush had rescued and protected her. “Okay. But I still want you to talk to him. Or I can—”

“I’ll do it. I’ll do it.”

The server came and Rush ordered coffee and toast. Nora ordered pecan pancakes with vanilla syrup and a side of bacon. She ate when she was wound up. She shivered and scanned the room. No one looked suspicious, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

When the server left the table, Rush continued. “Right now, I need you to be objective. Think back. Do you remember your parents ever fighting? Especially within a day or two of the ball?”

Nora shook her head and sipped her Irish breakfast tea with honey. “My parents never fought. I mean, if they did, then they kept it from me and Hailey. Plenty of space around here to raise voices and no one but the mountains to hear.” She leaned forward. “Why? Do you think my dad had anything to do with this? I mean, I know he hasn’t searched hard, but to murder my mom?”

“Whoa!” Rush put his hands up. “Don’t jump to conclusions and certainly not out loud where diners can hear. I never said that.” He scowled across the table.

“Well, you certainly implied it.”

He shifted in his seat. “I didn’t mean to. I’m saying if you could remember them arguing, you might remember some of the dialogue, which might be helpful.”

She couldn’t drum up one heated conversation. “Maybe he didn’t know she was having affairs.”

Rush gave her the get-real face. “Rumors flew through town. There’s no way he hadn’t heard them. Possibly approached her. A man was in that car at some point that night or around the event. Could be he caught her with him that night.”

And did what? “For not meaning to imply, you’re doing it again.”

Rush’s neck reddened. “We need to find the man who owns the cuff link and mask. He might have answers. We can get photos from the party.”

“Silver cuff links aren’t rare. And what if the wearer isn’t in the pictures?”

Rush tented his hands on the table. “I’d like them anyway.”

Nora nodded as the food arrived. They waited for the server to leave before going back into their discussion. “They’d be in a storage room near the offices. I can get them for you later today.”

They made small talk, dancing around the past.

“How’s Hailey?” Rush asked.

“I think she’s keeping a brave front for Dalton since he’s already going through a lot.” She added more syrup to her pancakes. “How’s your family?”

Rush’s jaw ticked. “Fine. Everyone’s coming in for the Christmas celebration.”

“Greer and Hollister?”

Rush’s eyes held surprise. “You remember them?”

“How could I forget?” She remembered all those summers with Rush, including the ones with his cousins.

His phone rang and he answered; a few minutes later he hung up. “I have to go. With this weather, all hands are on deck with traffic accidents and we have one on Route 5. Turned into a brawl. Let me pay for my breakfast.”

“Toast is twenty-two fifty.” She held in a giggle.

Rush paused, then grinned. She’d had a weak spot for that killer smile. Guess she hadn’t done enough strength training lately. It was making its mark.

“Don’t worry about it. Daddy would be fit to be tied if he knew you were paying for meals here.” She bit into her bacon. “I’ll bring the photos by the station in a couple of hours.”

“Be careful. Clearly the roads are treacherous, not to mention other dangers.”

“Will do.” She saluted him with the bacon but lost her appetite. Someone wasn’t going to be pleased when they found out she wasn’t giving up the quest for truth. She rubbed her cheek and shivered, then made her way down to the offices and storage rooms where they kept the predigitalized masquerade photos for marketing purposes. She flipped the light switch. The fluorescent lights flickered and hummed, only two lighting the dim room.

Using her cell phone flashlight, she crept into the room, highlighting the dates on cardboard boxes. Like something out of a TV show evidence facility. Dust sent her into a wave of sneezes. Halfway down the fourth aisle, she found the box. “Bingo.”

A noise came from behind. Mouse? Please be a mouse.

Hairs rose on her arms and neck. She turned as a masked man snatched the box of photos and shoved her to the ground.

No! Nora jumped up, adrenaline pumping. With all her might, she pushed until the metal row in front of her toppled and crashed onto the masked man, boxes spilling open as papers and photos littered the concrete floor.

Nora hurdled over the boxes and debris, hands shaking, and grabbed the box he’d dropped, then ran like the wind. With one hand, she dialed 911. The dispatcher answered. Menacing words and papers shuffled in the distance. Oh, no. “Tell Rush Buchanan to get to Pine Refuge Resort and Lodge.” The attacker was on her tail. “Basement. Storage room. Now! Right now! This is Nora...” The phone slipped from her shaking hands as she took a hard right. Could she make the elevator? No. Where? Where could she go?

Custodial closet. Down the next hall.

She gripped the box. The attacker gained on her. She ran hard enough her chin shook.

Five feet.

Four.

Two...

She flew into the room, closed the door and locked it. The attacker banged and pulled on the knob. Could he find a way in? Could she find a way out? A small rectangular window above was covered in snow. The box wouldn’t fit through it. She could escape and leave the photos, but if he got inside he’d have them, and obviously something in them incriminated someone or he wouldn’t want the box so badly.

Her phone was gone.

No way to communicate. She curled into a ball until the banging and twisting on the doorknob silenced. Was he gone? Was he waiting on her to open the door?

What could be in these photos? And how did the attacker know she’d be in the storage room?

Chills slithered across her spine.

She had been watched.

“Nora! Nora Beth!” Rush stormed down the hall. Millie at Dispatch had called him, and what should have been a ten-minute drive had taken him over twenty thanks to the road conditions that were worsening each hour. Rush’s heart pounded in his chest as he hunted for Nora. God, please keep her protected. He’d made his way to the storage room and taken in the disaster.

“Nora!”

He headed right, down another hall.

“Nora!”

“Rush. Rush!” The custodial closet door opened and Nora flew into his arms, gripping with all her might. “A man tried to steal the photos.” Her shoulders relaxed and she explained what happened.