Lynette Eason - Christmas Cover-Up

She glanced at it. “Who have you talked to so far?”

“A lot of people. Particularly those who still live in your old neighborhood.”

“Go on.”

He pulled out a notebook and flipped through a few pages. “I tried to get in touch with your neighbor Elaine Johnson.”

“She’s still alive?” Katie asked.

It surprised him she didn’t know. “Yes. She’s old, but she’s definitely alive. The only problem is, she wasn’t home. I’ve been by her house three times and she’s not there. I asked some of your neighbors where she is and one of them thought she was visiting her son in Georgia. Another said she was in the hospital. And yet another said she thought she was in a nursing home. I’m tracking her down.”

“How about that. Elaine Johnson’s still alive.” She gave a breathy laugh. “Wow. I mean, I knew she was a year ago, but she was in the hospital with congestive heart failure the last I heard. I ended up deciding to take my break before I was able to talk to her, but I would scan the obituaries in the paper thinking I’d see her name. When I never did, I figured I just missed it.” She bit her lip and shook her head. “She didn’t see anything anyway that day. She was with me in the house when it all happened.”

Jordan nodded. Elaine Johnson. The next-door neighbor who’d needed help with her groceries. Katie had carried several bags into the house and then returned to her front yard to find Lucy missing.

She swallowed hard. “Who else have you had a chance to talk to?”

“Some of the other neighbors, but no one seemed to notice anything odd that day—until you called the cops and they swarmed the neighborhood. I’m still trying to track down a few people I haven’t gotten in touch with, people who’ve moved out of the neighborhood, but there aren’t many. I want to question every neighbor who was within sight of your old front yard.”

“I already did that, but maybe a new person asking even the same questions will spark something that’ll produce different answers.” One could hope. “A couple of hours after Lucy disappeared, I remember the detective, Frank Miller, coming out and questioning everyone even though the uniformed officers had already done it.” She finished off her last slice of pizza. “I watched him go house to house. I even followed him to see if I could listen in and learn anything.”

“Did you?”

“No. In fact, he was mad when he caught me. Told me to go on home and let him do his job. I remember smarting off to him and telling him he must not be much of a detective since my sister was still missing.” Jordan winced and she nodded. “Yeah, he wasn’t too happy with that.”

“I guess not.”

“I still see him around the precinct every once in a while. He goes out of his way to avoid me.”

“Detective Frank Miller. I spoke to him, too. He feels bad about not finding Lucy. It’s obvious that talking about the case brings back unpleasant memories, a sense of failure.” Jordan flipped the page in his notebook. “He’s forty-five years old now. Your sister’s case was one of his first, but his partner, Danny Jackson, was a veteran.”

“I talked to him last year, too. He retired a few years ago.”

“He was close to retirement fourteen years ago. He said your sister’s is one of the cases that still haunts him.”

“So did talking to them help? Because it didn’t do much for me. He’s very gruff, but I don’t think I should take it personally. I think it’s just how he is.”

“He was gruff with me, too. And I’m not sure if talking to him helped. He basically told me to mind my own business. I’m still going through the file and all their notes.” He tapped the notebook against his palm and studied the woman across from him.

She intrigued him and while he didn’t want it to be so, it was. For the first time in a long time, he was attracted to someone. Interested in getting to know her on a deeper level than just a working relationship.

And it had to be someone he couldn’t pursue. He pictured his parents’ reaction if he were to announce that he was seeing the woman they blamed for their younger son’s death.

And winced.

No, unfortunately, Katie Randall was off-limits.

* * *

Her phone rang and she snagged it. “Hello?”

“Ms. Randall, this is Deep Clean Services. I just wanted to let you know we arrived at your house about seven-thirty this morning and will be done in about an hour.”

“Thanks for letting me know.”

She made payment arrangements, hung up and told Jordan the news. “Guess that means Mariah and I can go home.” She frowned. “Strangely enough, I’m mourning the Christmas tree the most.” Katie sent a text to her roommate to let her know, then turned back to the file. “All right. What else is in here?”

Katie moved over to sit beside Jordan in the booth so they could see the file without one of them having to try and read upside down.

Sitting beside him, she noticed his cologne once again, the strength that emanated from him. His warmth. She shivered at being so near him and swallowed hard. An attraction to this man was just not an option. And yet no matter how much her mind protested, her heart had decided to take matters into its own hands.

Focus. Focus. “You know I got this file from the department and copied everything in it. I used to study it at night when I couldn’t sleep.” Which had been often.

They scanned the notes, turning the pages one by one. A small slip of paper, stuck to the back of the sheet she’d just been reading, caught the edge of her fingernail and fell off. Katie picked it up. “What’s this?”

Jordan took it from her. “Looks like an address.”

“It was stuck to the back of this. Looks like there’s food or something on it.” She scraped the mess off with her fingernail. “How did I miss this?” she muttered. She knew how. She’d been in a hurry to get the file copied before her boss caught her once again working her sister’s case and had returned the original file without seeing the small slip of paper. “Let’s see where the address is.” She grabbed her phone and punched it in the GPS app. She looked up at him. “It’s a place called Jake’s Diner. About thirty miles away, in Anderson.” Katie bit her lip. “Why would this be in here?”

“It’s a sticky note. Probably Frank or Danny answered the phone and wrote it down. Is there anything else with that information on it?” he asked.

They flipped through the file again. Twice. Katie shook her head. “Nothing.”

Jordan rubbed his chin. “Feel like a road trip?”

She stood. “Definitely. Let’s go.” Katie headed for the cash register and Jordan followed.

At the door, he said, “I’ll get the car. You pay.”

She gaped at him. He widened his eyes, the picture of innocence. “What? I wouldn’t want you to think I was trying to turn this into a date or anything.”

Katie felt the flush start at the base of her throat. “Cute, Gray. Real cute.”

He winked. “I’ll get the next one.”

FOUR

Jordan gave himself a mental smack upside the head as he pulled his car around. Mere minutes ago, he’d reminded himself that an attraction to Katie was not a good thing, and then he’d turned around and deliberately flirted with her. What was he thinking? He sure didn’t want to give her the wrong idea.

Or the right idea. That he was interested in her. Because that interest could go nowhere as long as his parents blamed her for Neil’s death. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. Lord, I’m going to need Your guidance on this one.

He could see Katie inside paying. His phone rang and when he saw his father’s number on the screen, guilt swamped him. Swallowing it back, he hit the talk button. “Hi, Dad.”