Cold Case Recruit (18 page)

Chapter 13

T
he deputy called to inform them that Cora had awakened at the hospital. Drury reached the room door after Brycen. The deputy waited outside.

“Have you talked to her?” Brycen asked.

The deputy shook his hand and said to Drury, “Mrs. Decoteau.”

“Hello.” She found him very personable and polite and a real dot-the-I-cross-the-T kind of man.

He turned back to Brycen. “Not yet. I introduced myself and told her you were on the way.”

Drury presumed the deputy preferred Brycen do the questioning. He’d largely left Brycen unofficially in charge of the investigation ever since Carter had been exposed.

When the deputy entered the room and stood aside, Drury approached Cora’s bed with Brycen. He went to the far side of the bed and Drury stopped at Cora’s mid-section.

The woman’s eyes were closed, but when she heard them they opened tiredly, their brown vibrancy dimmed by red. Her long brown hair was up in a ponytail and draped over the white pillow.

“Who’s there,” she asked in a raw voice. And then she recognized Brycen. “You’re that detective. Deputy Chandler told me you’d be here.” Even her injured state didn’t hide her delight.

“Hello, Cora. We came as soon as we heard you were awake. Do you feel okay to talk a little?”

“Hell yes.” She took a few breaths. “Is that dirty cop in jail yet?”

“Who is a dirty cop?” Drury asked, hoping she’d give the name for confirmation. She suspected where this was going.

“Carter Nichols. I told my doctor that’s who shot me. Trooper Nichols came to see me at my home. At first I thought he was going to tell me he found my attacker. I let him in and he drew a gun. I couldn’t believe it. I was frozen with shock.” She had to pause to catch her breath again. “I asked him why and he said he had no choice. Then he shot me. ”

He must have thought he’d killed her and rushed to leave, anxious over how close authorities were to catch him.

“We’re looking for him now, Cora. There’s something else I need to ask you. Do you remember when you told me Carter came to see you at your work and someone interrupted him?”

Cora rolled her head to the side as she thought. Then she looked back at Brycen. “Yeah. A man interrupted him and he said he had to go.”

Deputy Chandler stepped forward, standing beside Drury closest to Cora’s head. “Who was the man?”

Neither she nor Brycen had a chance to fill him in.

With her eyes closed, Cora said, “I didn’t know him. I had never seen him before.”

“You said it seemed urgent, what this man needed to say to Carter,” Brycen said.

“Yes.” Cora opened her eyes and looked off as she recalled the incident. “He kept looking around all nervous and kept saying, ‘Let’s go outside.’ Trooper Nichols had to pay his bill and the man kept saying, ‘Let’s go outside.’ The man didn’t really look afraid. He seemed not to want to be seen there—or heard. I thought whatever he had to say to Trooper Nichols embarrassed him or something.”

“What did he look like?” Drury asked. “Can you describe him?”

“Yeah. He was a white man, maybe in his mid-forties, dark hair cut short.” She paused to breathe. “Average in height. He had dark circles under his eyes.”

“What color were his eyes?” Brycen asked.

Her eyes lifted as though searching the files in her mind. Then she blinked them closed. “Dark, I think.”

“Carter didn’t use his name?” Drury asked.

With her eyes still closed, Cora thought a moment and then said, “When the man first approached, he said, ‘Dexter,’ as though he was surprised to see him.”

No last name. Drury met Deputy Chandler’s glance with the significance of that. Brycen didn’t seem moved one way or the other. No last name meant it would be harder for them to find the man.

“Why is the man important?” Cora asked. “Does he have something to do with why Trooper Nichols shot me?”

More than Cora had seen the man go up to Carter. There had to be another reason.

“Did Carter mention anything to you about the domestic violence call my husband went on before he was murdered?” Drury asked. “Did he ever talk about his murder at all?”

Cora nodded slowly and slightly, growing tired. “He did talk about that. He said my attack happened around the same time and...” She thought some more. “I asked him if there were any other calls and he said a few, one his partner—the man murdered—your husband—went on by himself.”

“He said that? Noah went on the call alone?”

As the deputy put his hand on her shoulder as though in comfort, Cora said, “Yes. And he seemed to regret telling me. I thought he wasn’t supposed to talk about the investigation with me so I didn’t make a fuss over it.”

Drury checked Brycen for a reaction but he just continued to watch and listen.

“Noah did go alone, Cora,” she said, “but that’s not what Carter put in his report. He falsified the report.”

“Well.” Cora blinked tiredly. “That explains why he shot me, I suppose. Why wait, though? Why didn’t he shoot me before?” She looked at Brycen for an answer.

“I wasn’t onto him back then,” he said. “Now he’s a desperate man trying to erase evidence or anyone who can testify against him.”

Cora nodded slowly. “So, he’ll come after me again.”

“No,” Brycen said, no doubt in his tone. “I won’t allow him to get another chance. You’re safe now, and I’ll make sure Carter knows you’ve already told me all you know. He’ll have no reason to come after you. He’ll be more concerned with escaping me.”

Cora smiled as much as her energy would allow. “I knew you were different. As soon as I met you at the restaurant, I felt it. You were different than Carter.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He grinned.

“It was meant as one.” She didn’t open her eyes.

“We should let you get some rest,” Deputy Chandler said. “We’re all glad to hear you’re going to fully recover.”

“You can add me to that list.” She laughed slightly and winced in pain.

“Thank you, Cora,” Drury said.

Brycen moved around the bed and she preceded him out the door. The deputy said his farewell and followed.

Outside the room, the deputy faced them. “I’ll contact the FBI and see what they have on any wanted men named Dexter.”

“Thanks,” Brycen said. “We’ll be in touch.”

“Appreciate that.”

Drury gave a wave and started down the hall. But she stopped short when she recognized Mr. Jefferson and his daughter, Avery, walking down the hall. Kayla’s father and her sister.

“Mr. Jefferson. Avery,” she said.

Mr. Jefferson stopped walking and stared at Brycen in surprise and then disgust. “What the devil are you doing here?”

“Cora Parker is part of my investigation.”

“Do you know Cora?” Drury asked.

“What’s it to you?” Mr. Jefferson snapped.

“Excuse me?” She stepped right up to him and his daughter. “I suggest you speak respectfully to me rather than passing judgment when you don’t even know me.”

He blinked as though realizing how far he’d allowed his control to slip.

“How do you know Cora?” Drury asked.

The deputy moved closer, more of a presence to ensure no one lost their cool.

“She’s my friend,” Avery said. “We went to the same school.”

“Well. Anchorage is a big enough city, but small enough it would appear.”

“We’d appreciate it if you’d take him and go,” Mr. Jefferson glanced at the deputy. “We don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“Why?” Drury asked. “I find it hard to believe you didn’t know Brycen would want to talk to Cora. She was attacked close to the time my husband was murdered.”

“Yes, we were aware of that. But why would Cora’s assault be related to his murder?” Mr. Jefferson stopped and looked at Brycen. “You always did exaggerate everything. Looking under rocks that have nothing under them. Now look at you. You’re back and we could lose another person we care about.”

The man’s ire stirred anew and Drury wondered if he’d rant some more when the deputy stepped between the two, putting his hand on Mr. Jefferson’s chest.

“Take a step back, please,” Deputy Chandler said.

He did, glowering at Brycen.

“Kayla never told me about Cora and Avery being friends,” Brycen said.

“Cora is like a second daughter to us. Kayla never told you because all you were interested in is your
self
!” Mr. Jefferson moved around Deputy Chandler.

“Mr. Jefferson?” Brycen called.

He stopped in the hospital room doorway, hand on the doorframe.

“Cora is going to recover.”

With a dismissing grunt, Mr. Jefferson dropped his hand and went into the room, Avery having already gone there.

“What kind of trouble does he think you’re causing?” Deputy Chandler asked.

Drury predicted Brycen’s response before he started to turn away.

“We’ll be in touch, Deputy,” Brycen said.

Drury caught the deputy’s perplexed look. “It’s a touchy subject for him.” She held up her hand in farewell and followed Brycen toward the elevators.

Waiting for the doors to open, she changed her mind about leaving with him just yet. “I have to use the restroom. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

He pressed the down button and before he could say anything, she headed back down the hall.

Rounding a corner, she saw Deputy Chandler leaning against the opposite wall from Cora’s room.

“You’re back,” he said with a smile.

“You’re staying?” she asked.

“Until one of my troopers shows up. I’ve been keeping Cora under guard given someone tried to kill her.”

Of course, she should have thought of that. “That’s good of you.” She glanced back toward the hospital room. “Excuse me.”

She peeked her head in and saw Avery talking to Cora, who both looked and sounded exhausted.

Mr. Jefferson put his hand on Cora’s shoulder. “You get some rest. We’ll be back.”

Ducking back out of the room, she waited for him and Avery to leave, facing the door and ignoring the deputy’s curious observation. A trooper walked up to him and they started talking, the deputy looking her way once before Mr. Jefferson appeared in the hall.

“Mrs. Decoteau?” he queried, looking even more perplexed than the deputy had.

“I had to come back and ask you why you both still blame Brycen for Kayla’s death when it was a car accident,” she said. “Why do you?”

Mr. Jefferson shared a reluctant glance with his daughter, who offered no input. “The accident happened because someone started chasing him. Danger follows him everywhere he goes.”

“He’s a homicide detective. Are you suggesting he not do that?”

His mouth crimped in a disagreeing frown before he said, “He takes what he does too far.”

“That’s what makes him good at what he does.” She searched his eyes and then Avery’s for indications that they realized how unrealistic their hatred was. All she found was anger in Mr. Jefferson. Avery averted her eyes.

“Kayla would be alive if not for him.” Mr. Jefferson’s bad attitude came out again.

“You’ve said that. And she might still be alive if she never met him, but she did. She
loved
him. Maybe the problem here is your regret for not supporting her more.”

He blinked, slow and full of cynicism.

“You had your idea of what she should be doing with her life, and she had something different in mind. What you’re missing, though, is Kayla was happy. I think you both know she loved him,” Drury said. “But did you know he also married her and that’s where they had just come from when the criminal started chasing them?”

Avery perked up with that. “What?”

Her father paled some and seemed shocked.

“Oh, I guess not. Because Brycen never told anyone. You didn’t give him a chance. You were too quick to pass judgment. Or should I say, too quick to pass blame onto him for your own guilt?”

“How dare you.” Mr. Jefferson stepped toward her.

Drury held up her hand at Deputy Chandler, who took a step toward them, his trooper watching the confrontation with him. The deputy stopped.

She said to Mr. Jefferson in an even, honest tone, “Brycen Cage is a decent man. He’s smart and honest and doesn’t deserve the garbage you throw at him. He’ll find the man who shot Cora. But he’ll get no thanks from you. I wish I could tell him you weren’t worth a single thought or speck of regret and he’d listen. He actually cares about what you think. You, Mr. Jefferson, a man who drove him out of Alaska because you can’t forgive yourself for the way you treated Kayla before she died. I don’t even have to know what transpired between you. I just know it wasn’t Brycen’s fault. He cared for Kayla. Loved her. He didn’t mean for her to die. Nor did he want her to.”

“Now, you wait just a—”

Drury turned to Avery and cut Mr. Jefferson off. “That goes for you, too, Avery.” Avery’s mouth opened as though she considered responding and Mr. Jefferson ramrod stiff with insult.

Drury checked the deputy, who listened without moving to interfere, and faced the two again. “Have either of you stopped to think what losing Kayla did to Brycen? Did you ever think he grieved along with you? No. You didn’t. What do you think it did to him to know a criminal he’d been after caused her death? When you blamed him, he let you because he felt responsible. He agreed with you. Feeling as though he killed Kayla tore him apart. Don’t you see?”

Avery closed her mouth and Mr. Jefferson’s defensive stance softened a fraction. They had never considered how Brycen felt losing Kayla. Maybe they’d thought it to themselves a time or two, but they had never allowed the possibility to take shape. They’d clung to hatred and blame.

“Kayla’s death affects him to this day,” she said. “He’s only just now coming to terms with it. And if he hadn’t come back to Alaska, I’m convinced he never would have overcome the blame.” She searched each of their eyes, trying to find answers. “Why didn’t you ever consider his side of such a tragedy? You both should be ashamed of yourselves.”

Avery glanced at her father. She must have followed his lead. Mr. Jefferson didn’t respond.

“Do me a favor,” Drury said. “Stay away from Brycen. And if you see him again like today, keep your mouths shut and your unfair judgments to yourselves.” They’d told him to stay away plenty of times. It was time somebody told them to do the same.