Love Inspired Suspense April 2015 #1 (46 page)

Mel touched Jace's arm as he stiffened beside her. “Let it go, Jace.”

The senator departed, whistling.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Jace resumed heading into the police station. “Let's finish here and go.”

Jace left her waiting in a conference room while he gathered the files. He was gone for half an hour. When he finally came to get her, he was carrying several thick document envelopes. As she caught sight of him, her eyes widened. He had changed clothes while he was inside. Melanie could hardly keep her eyes off the man coming toward her. Gone was the stern lieutenant focused on his duty. In his place stood a relaxed man dressed in faded blue jeans, a red flannel shirt and dusty cowboy boots. Mel half expected him to pull out a cowboy hat.

“I've got what I need,” he stated, hefting the envelopes slightly. “Let's motor.”

She wanted to ask him what he'd found, but one glance at him told her his mind was on other things. She didn't mind. It was pleasant to walk beside him and just
be
. She waited until he unlocked his cruiser, than started to get in.

“Nope.” Jace hefted her suitcase out of the backseat and shut the door. He waited until she had stepped up beside him, then relocked the doors. “I'm leaving the cruiser here.” Pivoting on his heel, Jace led the way to a blue Ford pickup truck. He politely opened her door for her, giving her a mock bow as he motioned her to climb inside. She had never seen him so lighthearted before.

She was fascinated by the change in him as they drove out of the parking lot. So fascinated that she almost missed the ludicrous suggestion he was making when he told her where they were going. Lieutenant Jace Tucker, a pillar of the community and an all-around righteous man, wanted to take her, a convicted felon, to stay with his mother. She didn't know his mom, but she was pretty sure that idea would go over like a lead balloon.

“Jace, your mom is not going to want me to go to her house,” she protested.

“It's the only place where I can keep you safe,” he replied, his jaw tightening in the stubborn way she was becoming used to. They argued for several moments. Finally, Mel sat back with a huff. Unexpectedly, Jace chuckled. She glared in response. That only seemed to amuse him even more.

“I'm sorry, Mel, but you are just too cute when you get all snippy.”

“Snippy!”

“Yep. Snippy.”

There was no answer to that. Without thinking, she reached out and clicked the radio on. And received yet another surprising glimpse of Jace. Expecting country music, she found herself listening to Mozart instead. Her amazed glance flew to his flushed face.

“Classical? You listen to classical?” She couldn't keep the amazement from her voice.

“Yeah. The guys here like to rib me about it. They all listen to country.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck “I play the piano, too.”

Finding something they had in common, she forgot where they were going. For the next fifteen minutes, they compared opinions on composers and various interpretations. It wasn't until Jace slowed down before a blue ranch-style house that Mel remembered their destination.

Jace shrugged. He pulled into his mother's house and turned off the engine. They sat quietly for a few moments before he abruptly opened the door and stepped out of the truck. “Come on, Mel. Let's not keep my mom waiting.”

Reluctantly, Mel followed him up the short walkway. Her stomach tightened when a woman opened the door. Her blue eyes were identical to Jace's, except for the generous smattering of laugh lines fanning them. Only she wasn't laughing now. Or even smiling. In fact, her expression was cold and remote. She took in Mel's appearance the same way one might view a bug found in their salad. Her eyes stayed on Mel while she greeted her son and tilted her face for a kiss.

“Take her upstairs. The guest room is ready.” Mel shivered. This was just about the most uncomfortable welcome she had ever had into anyone's home.

“Sure, Mom. I'm starving. Is it okay if I make us something to eat?” Jace's cheerful tone was forced.

“I'm not sure what I have in the kitchen. I didn't feel like going shopping today. You'll have to fend for yourselves tonight.”

Well, now. That was clear enough. Jace paused on his way toward the stairs and frowned at his mother. Whatever he wanted to say, though, he kept to himself. Mel was just as glad. She didn't want to be the cause of any more friction in this family.

“Jace!” A lovely young woman with auburn hair ran into the room to embrace him. She looked several years younger than Jace. Her high cheekbones and blue eyes immediately identified her as his sister. Mel tensed when the pretty woman turned to greet her. Then her mouth fell open as the woman sent her a friendly smile. “You must be Jace's friend Melanie. I'm his sister, Irene.”

Mrs. Tucker snorted when Irene called Mel Jace's friend. The other three tactfully ignored her.

“You mean my pesky sister, don't you, Brat?” Jace playfully tugged a hank of Irene's hair. The affectionate gesture made a lump form in Melanie's throat. She missed being around people who genuinely cared for her. As horrible as the prison had been, she at least had the chaplain and two other inmates who had joined her at the prison church services.

Jace turned and began walking toward the stairs again. “Come on, Mel. Let's get you settled, then we'll go grab a bite to eat.”

Gratefully, Mel hurried after him. The less time she spent in this house, the better.

“Hey, what about me?” Irene yelled after them.

“What about you?” Jace shot back. “You have your own family to feed at home. We'll catch up with you later.”

“Fine, fine. I know when I'm not wanted. I'll talk with you later. Nice meeting you, Melanie.” Irene fluttered her fingers at them, kissed her mother's disapproving cheek and waltzed out the door.

Mel started in astonishment when Jace grabbed her hand and pulled her up the stairs and down the hall to the spare bedroom. He opened the door and motioned her inside. Instead of following her inside, he stood in the doorway. They stared at each other for a few moments. The air almost vibrated with tension. Finally he nodded.

“Right. You grab a shower and a change of clothes. We can leave in about thirty minutes.” He started to shut the door, then paused. “It will all work out, Mel. Trust me,” he promised, his voice soft and smooth as velvet.

Emotion clogged her throat. She couldn't have answered him if she wanted to. She settled for a brief nod. As soon as he shut the door, she sagged down onto the bed. Her head drooped into her hands.

It was closer to forty minutes by the time she felt brave enough to venture out of the room and seek out Jace. She'd procrastinated as long as she could. The thought that finally motivated her to leave her sanctuary was that she didn't want to add to Mrs. Tucker's already dismal impression of her.

She heard Jace before she saw him. He and his mother were in the kitchen. It was apparent by the tone of his mother's voice that they were arguing. As she drew closer, the words became clearer. She intended to make her presence immediately known, but hearing her name stopped her.

“Melanie has nowhere else to go, Mom.” Jace's voice was calm, but Mel could hear the underlying tension.

“So? How is that your problem?” Mrs. Tucker snarled.

Jace sighed. “Mom, it is my duty to protect her. Someone is after her.”

A sound like something being slammed on the counter echoed through the room. Mel flinched. “I can't believe you, Jason Tucker! How could you bring that...that...that drug dealer into my home!”

“Mom...”

“No! It's not right. Her kind has caused us so much pain. Or have you forgotten? Have you let a pretty face blind you? I can't imagine what made you think you could bring her here after what happened to Ellie.” The last word broke on a sob.

Mel shuddered. Her heart ached for the woman. Ellie. That must have been the other sister Jace had mentioned. Right before he froze her out at breakfast. Although she didn't know all the details, Mel was pretty sure that his little sister was dead, and that drugs were somehow involved. No wonder the woman was unhappy about having Melanie in her home. How could she stay here and add to that mother's agony? Mrs. Tucker had no reason to doubt that Mel was guilty.

At the same time, she wanted to scream that she wasn't a drug dealer. Her jaw tensed and she clenched her fists at her sides as frustration beat at her. As wild as she had been in her teens, she had never touched drugs—not to use them or to sell them. But for the rest of her life, people would think she had.

“Mom, please,” Jace entreated. “I know it's hard to accept. But Melanie isn't what you think.”

What? Was Jace defending her? It was one thing for him to stand up for her to Lieutenant Willis or Dan. But to his heartbroken mother? But maybe he was just trying to pacify his mother. Still, she had trouble picturing him lying to anyone, especially his mother, to make things easier.

“How can you say that? You were the one who arrested her,” came the tear-filled reply.

Melanie had heard enough. She stepped through the doorway. Both people in the kitchen froze at her entrance. She was vaguely aware of Jace's weary expression. She focused on the devastated woman standing at the counter, wet coffee stains on her blouse. Ah. She must have slammed her coffee mug on the counter and it splashed. The woman's drawn face tugged at Mel's heart.

“I won't stay here if it bothers you that much, Mrs. Tucker,” she murmured. Jace opened his mouth, but Mel held up a hand to halt him.

“I can stay in a hotel. You did try to convince me to do that before, remember? Your mother shouldn't have to let someone into her house she doesn't like.”

Jace stalked over to Mel, glaring. “But she doesn't know all the facts,” he insisted, teeth gritted.

“Neither do you,” she pointed out.

“I know that I was wrong not following my instincts four years ago,” he declared.

EIGHT

“W
hat are you saying?” Her voice was a mere whisper.

Jace cleared his throat. He rubbed the back of his head. It was never comfortable to admit you were wrong, but he needed to man up. “I should not say this. It's unprofessional, but I owe it to you after what I've done.” He paused. Looked into her eyes. “I don't think you killed that girl, nor do I believe you tried to kill yourself. I felt I was missing something back then, and the events in the past couple of days have clinched it for me. I think you were framed. It's quite possible you were the victim of an attempted murder, as well.”

A pregnant silence filled the room.

“If you felt I was innocent,” she managed to rasp, “why didn't you ever say so? Why did you work so hard to build the case against me?”

Jace began to pace the length of the small room.

“All the evidence I had pointed to you. I couldn't ignore that. But I wasn't comfortable with the fact that all the evidence was circumstantial. And there was something about you... I didn't want to think that you could be a killer. It just didn't seem to fit. But I told myself I had to be wrong, that I couldn't value a gut feeling over all the evidence. At one point, I even considered asking Paul to remove me from your case.” He lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “After you were convicted, I made myself believe you had to have been guilty. The jury came back so quickly, as if they had no doubt at all. I was astonished, but I told myself it was because you were so obviously guilty—that I was the one who was wrong for not seeing it. It almost wrecked my career.”

“
She
almost wrecked your career,” Mrs. Tucker reminded her son. “People who deal in drugs will lie about anything. Just look what happened to your sister.”

“Mom...”

“No! I went to church with her parents. They appeared decent, but the whole time that man was abusing drugs and his wife and child.”

He couldn't help the way his mouth dropped open. He whipped his head in Mel's direction. Even if he had doubted his mother, the slump of her shoulders and the down-turned gaze told him his mother was right.

“Mel?”

She flinched.

“Go ahead and ask her how they died. Well? Ask her. In my mind she was destined to turn out bad from the get-go.”

“Mom, the reports on her parents' death said there was a car crash. And as far as the other, everyone I interviewed had nothing but praise.”

“You obviously didn't interview Melanie's teachers at school. I was teaching then. I could tell you stories that would horrify you. Or what about Mrs. Johns, who lived across the street from the Swanson family? If she were still alive, she could tell you a thing or two about what went on in that family.”

“Mom, what about forgiveness? Grace? Don't you believe in any of that?”

Mrs. Tucker refused to meet his eyes. “I thought I did. But now, faced with her presence in my home, I don't know.” She shook her head and walked to the door. “I will allow her to stay tonight, since you told your chief you were bringing her here. Tomorrow, though, you need to find her somewhere else.”

Grief filled him as he watched his mother's proud figure march from the room. He had thought—well, he didn't know what he had thought. Being an honest man, who had taken an oath to protect and serve this community, he needed to find out if Mel had been a victim, too. It was the right thing to do. He had known his mother wouldn't be happy about having Mel in her house, but he never thought she'd turn her out. A prickle of unease settled in his gut. What was he supposed to do now?

“She's right, you know.” Mel stood beside him, sadness stamped on her weary face. “I want to show you something. Hold on.” Mel went and collected her purse. Dropping it on the table, she began to riffle through its contents. “I know it's here. Oh, Cathy, what have you done?” she muttered.

“What are you looking for?”

“I'm searching for—hey! Here it is.” She fished a small wallet out of the bag.

“You might want to organize that thing,” he said mildly.

“It was organized,” she retorted, “until Cathy knocked it over. Who knows what is still lying on the floor back at Aunt Sarah's house.” She opened the wallet and showed him a picture of a young woman. She was an older version of Mel. She was beautiful, but there was something haunted about her expression.

“Your mom?” he guessed.

“Yes. It's the only picture of her I have.”

“You don't have a picture of your dad?” Before the question was finished, her mouth had flattened, tightened.

“My father was an evil man. He went to church every week, and everyone loved him. Then he'd come home, and...well, it wasn't pretty.”

“What happened, Mel?”

“He killed her,” she said bluntly. “Maybe deliberately, maybe not. But it was his fault, just the same. He was high, and he drove their car onto the train tracks and stopped as a train was coming. Witnesses said they could see Mom trying to escape, but he held her in the car.”

Bile churned in his gut. What kind of creature did that? Another thought struck him.

“Where were you?”

Her hands clenched at her side. He could see her throat moving as she swallowed. Her eyes darted to his, then away.

“Home.”

“With?”

She shrugged. “Myself. Dad thought I was a nuisance. No fun to have a ten-year-old kid around.”

“Mel—”

Ignoring him, she continued talking, almost as if she were talking to herself. “I really can't blame people for distrusting me. And whoever set me up did it well. Looking at the situation objectively, I think it would be hard to convince anyone I didn't hurt Sylvie. I was rather wild in my teens. I hung out with the wrong kids. I never did drugs, or even alcohol, because I couldn't stand the taste of the stuff, but—”

“That's it! That's what I was missing!” Jace dashed out of the room to get the files he'd retrieved from the police station. He hurried back in a minute later, leafing through a file until he found what he was looking for. He grabbed a paper and waved it at Melanie.

“Here it is! Mel, when your stomach was pumped at the hospital, there were large quantities of alcohol in your system, along with the pills. When I swept your apartment for evidence, I found the suicide note that you had supposedly written, and the bottle of prescription painkillers we assumed you had stolen from Seth. Some pills strewn over the floor. Like you'd been in a hurry. Dropped them. But there was no alcohol, or even empty bottles, anywhere on the premises.”

“Of course not,” Mel sniffed. “I don't drink.”

He waved the file at her. “But don't you see? If you had really overdosed on painkillers
and
vodka, why didn't we find the bottle? Even if you had cleaned up after yourself, which you clearly didn't, hence the pills on the floor...even if you had, we would have found it somewhere. In the garbage or recycling. I
scoured
that apartment collecting evidence. Nothing.”

He walked away, then whirled to face her. “There is no way that you could have done the deed in your apartment. Someone overdosed you, then put you there, spilling the pills all around you. It was probably a shock to whoever it was that you survived to stand trial. Of course, your memory lapse helped them since you couldn't identify who had done this to you. But they had to make sure no one had any doubt that you were solely responsible for Sylvie's death. That's why the jurors were threatened. That's why someone tried to kill your aunt Sarah. That's why someone is after you now. They need to clean up their mistakes.” Jace grabbed hold of Mel's waist and whirled her around. Then he backed away, flushing. “Sorry. Got a little too enthusiastic.”

“It's all right,” Mel murmured, her expression stunned.

“We need a plan. But I can't do that until I eat. Let's order a pizza and then we can get our strategy worked out.”

“Your mom?” Mel gestured vaguely toward the door.

“We'll go down to the basement. Shouldn't disturb her there. Hopefully, we can change her mind about you tomorrow.”

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, they were seated together eating the best pizza Mel had ever tasted. Or maybe it was the company. Jace had shed some of his reserve in her presence. He even told her about his sister.

“Ellie was a sweet kid. Shy, tenderhearted. She was always the kid with her nose in a book. She also loved the Lord, and tried so hard to always do the right thing. She was so eager to make everyone happy—she never wanted to hurt or disappoint anyone.” He paused while he took a gulp of his soda.

Mel found her eyes drawn to the strong column of his throat as he tilted his head back. She blushed when he set his drink down, thankful that he hadn't seen her staring.

He resumed talking. “When she was sixteen, we noticed a change. Not a huge one. She just started being more aware of how she looked, what she wore. We figured she probably had a crush on a boy. We were right.” He frowned. “Jeff Marcus. He was a year older in school. Seemed like a nice kid. We met him. He was very polite, a good student. He used to come over and hang out with me while he waited for Ellie to finish getting ready. Sometimes he'd help me tinker on my motorcycle in the garage. He even joined Paul and me once when we went to Pittsburgh for a football game. I really liked that kid. It was like having a little brother. What I didn't know, what none of us knew, was that he sold drugs on the side.”

Jace stopped and rubbed his eyes.

Mel reached over and touched the hand lying on the table. “Jace, you don't have to tell me. I understand.”

Jace turned his hand over and grabbed on to hers as though it was a lifeline. “I do need to tell you, Mel. I was unfair to you four years ago, and my mother was unfair to you today. You deserve to know why.”

Her throat dry, she nodded for him to continue. If he needed to unburden himself, she would listen. There was no way she could turn her back on him when he was hurting.

“Jeff got my baby sister hooked on drugs. She died when she jumped out of a window while high.”

He blew out a breath, hard. “Ellie called her best friend on her cell phone and left a voice mail for her right before she jumped. She said she was going to see if she could fly. They played that voice mail at Jeff's trial. Not a dry eye in the place. Jeff was convicted. He was tried as an adult since Ellie was a minor. But Ellie was gone.”

“I am so sorry, Jace,” Mel wept.

She doubted he even heard her.

“I was such a wreck after she died. How could I not have seen what had happened to her? If I'd noticed the signs, I could have gotten her help, treatment. I was her brother, the only father figure she had left. And I had failed her.” He scorched her with the agony in his eyes. “I let affection for that boy cloud my judgment.

“Mel, when I saw Sylvie dead of an overdose, all I could see was Ellie. I'm ashamed to admit it, but Sylvie wasn't who I was fighting for, it was my sister. And fighting for her meant making sure the person responsible was put behind bars. I wanted to close the case—I wanted to go with the easy, obvious solution. So when I got that nagging feeling that something wasn't right, I tried to ignore it. I was disgusted with myself. I felt like I was having trouble doing my job.”

Mel swallowed. “But surely you can't still blame yourself for the doubts about me anymore. You know you were right to question things, right?” She held her breath.

He let out a humorless chuckle. “
You
should be mad at me. Mel, do you realize that because I was such a jerk you lost four years of your life? Four years that you can never get back.”

“Stop that!”

His head reared back at her sharp command. She lowered her voice.

“You know that part in the Old Testament, where Joseph meets his brothers years after they sold him as a slave?” She waited until he nodded. “Well, he told them that they might have meant to do something evil, but God took that and used it for good. That's what happened to me. I rejected my aunt's lessons about God, laughed at her faith and moved out at seventeen. I was living with Seth, and we were both thumbing our noses at his snobby parents and the rules of moral conduct we had learned. Then he broke up with me and two months later Sylvie died. When I went to jail, I was stripped of everything. My job, my home, my friends. Seth had already abandoned me, and his father was using every opportunity to denounce me. I was so bitter. Angry. That's when God showed me that He would never abandon me.” She gestured around them at the posh decor of his mother's basement. “All of this is fleeting. Everything I had held dear was false. In jail, I learned that God was the only one I could depend on. Even if I marry someday, my husband will be a human who will make mistakes. So you see, Jace, you feel like you've cost me four years of my life. I feel like you've saved my soul.”

A slice of pizza stopped halfway to his mouth, Jace's face reflected his astonishment.

A slight smile hovered about his handsome mouth.

“I'm glad you had faith to comfort you. It was the only thing that kept us going when Ellie died.” He cleared his throat and moved to a new topic.

“I want to go finish talking with the jurors tomorrow. Most of them are local. One moved out of state. I need to find the truth.”

“You mean you are going to just leave me?”

He shook his head. “No. I already told Paul I was taking you with me. It's not normal procedure, but it would be safer for you.”

She sighed, relieved. “Okay, whatever.”

Later that night when Mel was getting ready for bed, there was a quiet knock on her door. She cast a glance down at her apparel and grimaced. Baggy sweats that had seen better days and a tie-dyed T-shirt with a heavy-metal rock band emblazoned across the front. Not exactly dressed to impress. She slipped her robe on to conceal the offending clothes, then walked on bare feet to the door. Pulling it open three inches, she peered out at Jace, who had his hand raised to knock again. She averted her eyes, trying not to smile as she noticed that he, too, was wearing old sweats and a T-shirt. Except his shirt featured Yoda from
Star Wars
.