Love Inspired Suspense December 2013 Bundle: Christmas Cover-Up\Force of Nature\Yuletide Jeopardy\Wilderness Peril (56 page)

He nodded. “That he gave to his son. But there are still some unanswered questions. I'm going to the station to search the police records for all the deaths by drug overdoses in the years following our high school graduation. When I get the names, I'll check each one out.”

“But even if you have all the names, how will you be able to tell which one is connected to the boys from our school?”

“We know the kid who died was in college, so I'll pull out the ones that fit the age. Then I'll trace the families and talk with each one of them.”

“That may take a long time.”

He smiled and turned the ignition. “This is the way cases are solved, Grace. We follow up one lead at a time, no matter where it takes us. Sometimes it leads nowhere, and other times we find answers. There's still something I'm missing, and I'm not going to rest until I find out what it is. I'll take you back to the hotel first.”

“All right. I told Mom I'd go shopping with her to buy replacement presents for the ones destroyed last night. We also have an appointment to stop by our decorator's office to discuss getting the house cleaned out and buying new furniture.”

“What's your Dad going to do?”

“He'll stay at the hotel.”

“Alone? What if he needs something?”

“That concerns me, too, but he assured Mom this morning he'd be all right.”

“What if...” Alex hesitated as if he wasn't sure what he was going to say. “What if I stayed with him?”

Her mouth dropped open, and she stared at him. “You'd stay with my father? What about going to your office to check those records?”

He waved his hand in dismissal. “I can go later after you and your mother get back.”

“No, I couldn't ask you to do that,” Grace protested.

“Really I don't mind. I'd feel better knowing he wasn't alone.”

Grace could hardly believe Alex had volunteered to stay with her father, especially with the history between the two. She blinked back tears and squeezed Alex's arm. “Thank you. It means so much to me that you'd offer to stay. Even though it looks like the suite may be home for us for a while, he still hasn't learned to navigate well in his new surroundings.”

Alex glanced down at her hand on his arm and cleared his throat. “No problem. I'm glad to do it.” He pulled free of her and reached for his seat belt. “So is your family planning to spend Christmas there?”

She sighed and buckled her seat belt. “It's not about the house where you spend Christmas, Alex. It's about being with the people you love. By the way, that reminds me. When will your father arrive for the holidays?”

“He's not coming. I talked with him this morning, and he's not feeling well. I'll probably leave Christmas Eve and drive down there.”

“That's only a few days away. Will you be back for New Year's?”

“I don't think so. I've already put in for some vacation time. I'll probably stay a few weeks.”

She hoped her face didn't convey the disappointment she felt knowing Alex would be gone all through the holidays. But if he decided to stay in Florida, he'd be gone for good. She forced a smile to her lips. “I know your father will be glad to see you.”

He nodded and put the car in gear. He didn't speak as they drove back to the hotel, but Grace glanced at him every once in a while. The muscle in his jaw twitched, and she knew he was deep in thought. Whether it was about the killer they were after or his sudden decision to drive to Florida, she didn't know. Whatever it was, she wondered how much longer Alex would be in Memphis.

* * *

Alex still found it hard to believe he could feel so relaxed with Grace's father, the man he had feared most of his life. Now as he sat in the hotel suite and chatted with Harrison Kincaid he saw nothing in his demeanor that even resembled the arrogant bank president of a few years ago.

Mr. Kincaid took a sip of his coffee and set the cup and saucer on the tray of his wheelchair. “Thanks for sticking around to keep me company while Grace and her mother are shopping. They don't want the vandalism of our house to ruin our Christmas. I'm sure when they come back they'll have a tree as well as bags filled with all kinds of ornaments and presents to replace the ones damaged last night.”

Alex smiled. “I was glad to stay.” He let his gaze drift over the room. “This suite is very comfortable. Grace said you'll probably spend Christmas here at the hotel.”

Mr. Kincaid nodded. “Of course we'd prefer to be in our home, but we're thankful we can be together. Why don't you join us for Christmas dinner? We'd love to have you with us.”

“Thanks, but I'm going to Florida to see my dad.”

“I'm sure he'll be glad to see you. Tell him I said hello.”

“I'll do that. My father asks about you every time we talk. He always enjoyed taking care of the gardens at your house.”

“He always did a good job. I hope you'll tell him I'm sorry for the way I acted about him bringing you along all the time.”

“I'll tell him.” Alex hesitated a moment. “About that...I still find it hard to believe how different you are now. I've heard people talk about how God can change your life, but I never saw it until now.”

Mr. Kincaid nodded. “I suppose some people would think I should be angry because I'm unable to walk and confined to this wheelchair, but the truth is I'm happier than I've ever been. When I turned my life over to God, He filled me with peace and the greatest love I've ever known. If He can do it for me, He can do it for anybody.” He pointed to his useless legs. “Don't misunderstand me, Alex. It's not easy, but I find myself able to cope with my disability because I trust God to make me content in my situation.”

Alex's brow wrinkled, and he shifted to the edge of his seat. “But how can you trust something you can't see?”

“It comes from faith, Alex. It's a feeling inside that lets you know you're not alone, that you'll never be alone again. I have to admit some days I feel sorry for myself, then it's like a small voice whispers in my head and tells me I'm not alone. When I feel like I've gone as far as I can go, I turn it over to Him, and He gives me the strength to carry on. He can do it for you, too.”

Alex shook his head. “I don't know.”

Mr. Kincaid smiled. “Think about what I've said, and maybe we can talk about it again sometime. If you change your mind about going to Florida, then join us.” He took a deep breath and pointed to a manila folder on his wheelchair tray. “Now if you don't mind, I have some work to do.”

“I didn't realize you were still working,” Alex said.

“I do a lot of work for the bank from home. These are some loan applications I want to study.”

Alex chuckled. “I'm glad it's you and not me making those decisions. It would be hard for me to turn down anybody for a loan.”

Mr. Kincaid nodded. “It is. There have been people I knew and respected that I had to say no to because they couldn't afford to repay the money. I wouldn't have done them any favors if I had led them deeper into debt. Unfortunately they didn't always see it that way. I've had some really angry customers over the years.” He glanced back down at the folder. “But that's all in the past. I think I'll go in the bedroom to work on these. There are soft drinks in the refrigerator. Help yourself and turn on the TV.”

“I will, and I'll be right here if you need anything.” Alex rose to his feet and watched Mr. Kincaid guide his wheelchair toward the bedroom. Just before he reached the bedroom door, Alex called out to him, “I enjoyed talking with you. I'll think about what you said.”

Grace's father turned his chair around and smiled at Alex. “I hope you will.” He swallowed, and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down. “I have many regrets, Alex, but my biggest one is that I interfered in your and Grace's relationship. If it wasn't for me, you two might be married, and I would be a grandfather. I don't know if I'll ever get that chance now. She'll never love anyone else the way she loved you.”

“Mr. Kincaid, it wasn't...”

He held up his hand. “I know it wasn't entirely my fault, but I was determined to break you two up. Now I have no idea why. I didn't realize until I was shot how much I loved Grace's mother. I wasted a lot of years when we could have been happy.” He paused and took a deep breath. “In spite of everything that's happened this past week, Grace has been happier than she has in years because you're back with her. She told me you might move to Florida, but I know she doesn't want that. I think you have to decide what you want. I've been praying you will discover what our family knows now—it's never too late for love.”

Alex stood in stunned silence as Mr. Kincaid disappeared into the bedroom. He wanted to run into the room and tell Grace's father he wasn't to blame for their breakup. Alex could blame no one but himself. He and Grace could have worked out some sort of compromise if they had tried. Instead, he had declared that if she loved him, she'd give up her dreams, and she'd turned the same argument around on him.

It made him sad now to think how he had decided Grace was only concerned with her own needs and that he could never trust her to care about his. Then when she became engaged to Richard Champion, he'd known he'd been right. Why hadn't he gone to her and insisted they work out their problems instead of letting years pass while resentment and anger build up in both of them?

For the past week they'd struggled to regain the trust they once had in each other, and they'd made progress. Even though she'd said she wanted his friendship, her father had hinted she still loved him. Was he ready to risk his heart again, or would it be best to walk away while he still could?

He sank down on the sofa and covered his face with his hands. He had no idea what to do.

TWELVE

G
race frowned and glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was nearly eleven o'clock, and Alex hadn't phoned. When she and her mother had gotten back from shopping, he'd made his excuses and rushed off. She'd expected to hear from him by now to let her know if he'd found anything in the police records that might help solve their case.

Her parents had gone to bed early in the adjoining bedroom after dinner, and she'd rattled around the suite trying to entertain herself while she waited for a call from Alex. She picked up her cell phone for the third time to call him. Before she could punch in his number, she shook her head and laid it back on the table. He'd call when he had any information for her.

Thirty minutes later when he still hadn't called, she gave up and got ready for bed. She'd just gotten her gown and robe on when the phone rang. Her excitement over Alex finally calling died when a number she didn't recognize popped up on caller ID. She connected the call and raised the phone to her ear.

“Hello.”

“Good evening, Grace. Did you have a good visit with Sharon Warren today?”

Her breath hitched in her throat, and she clutched the phone tighter. “H-how did you—”

“Know you saw Sharon?” her anonymous caller finished for her. “I know everything you've done for days. You'd think two people trained as a news investigator and a police officer would realize when they were being followed. You and Alex Crowne are pathetic.”

She narrowed her eyes and gritted her teeth. “What do you want?”

“I want to tell you who killed Landon.”

“And Sam, Dustin, Billy and Jeremy, too? You took care of the Wolf Pack, didn't you?”

A chuckle came over the phone, and a chill went up her spine. “So you think you know the whole story, but you haven't arrived at the full truth yet. Do you want to know?”

“Yes, what is it?”

“Don't be so eager, Grace. I'm not going to tell you over the phone, but I'm sure you're suspicious of meeting me.”

Grace gave a snort of disgust. “I've tried doing things your way. Once I was shot at, and the next time I was poisoned.”

“There'll be nothing like that this time. I'm leaving town in a few minutes, but I've left you something.”

“What is it?”

He sighed. “I'm tired, Grace. I've stalked the Wolf Pack for years, and I'm ready to finish my quest. In fact, I'm sitting on board a plane right now bound for Germany. I hope to meet up with Clay there. But don't get any ideas. We are taxiing to the runway and will be in the air before you can alert the police to my plan.”

Grace sucked in her breath. “You won't get away with killing Clay. The police will notify the German police, and they'll stop you.”

He laughed. “Maybe they will, but I doubt it. All kinds of accidents can happen on a ski trail. Afterward, I plan to disappear, and you'll never hear from me again. So I've left you something to remember me by.”

“What is it?”

“I've made a video of my confession. When you see it, you'll know who I am and why I've done what I did.”

“Where's this video?”

“It's in an appropriate place. I've left it underneath the entrance to the Memphis-Arkansas Bridge.”

“Why there?”

He laughed again. “I thought since your interest in the Wolf Pack started on the bridge, it would be a good place for you to learn the truth. The video is easy to find. Leave your car at the E. H. Crump Park visitors' area and walk up the grassy rise toward the entrance to the bridge. At the top of the rise, walk down the slope toward the river, and you'll find the DVD in a box on the bank that runs underneath the bridge. Do you understand?”

“Yes, but how do I know I can trust you?”

“I suppose you'll have to decide. We're in line for takeoff right now, and I'm going to have to stow my cell phone. By the time you get to the bridge I should be safely away from the city. Goodbye, Grace.”

Before she could say another word, the call disconnected. She stared at the phone, undecided what she should do. Alex would know. She punched in his number and waited as the phone rang. When it went to voice mail, she blurted out her message. “I just had a call from the killer. He's on a plane for Germany, and he's left me a recording of his confession. I'm going to find the video, Alex. If you get this message, meet me at the E. H. Crump Park near the entrance to the bridge.”

She disconnected the call, tossed her phone on the table and ran to the closet. Within minutes she was dressed and ready to leave. She debated whether or not to leave a message for her parents but decided against it. She would be back before they woke.

Grabbing her purse, she hurried out the door and down to the parking garage where she'd left her mother's van earlier. She unlocked the car, jumped in and turned the ignition. She glanced at the menu panel on the dash and frowned when the Bluetooth didn't connect with her cell phone in her purse. With a groan she smacked the steering wheel with her hand. The phone wasn't in her purse. It was still lying in her hotel room. Why had she run out of the suite without picking up her phone?

Ignoring the urge to leave the phone behind, she leaned forward to turn off the ignition but froze when something round and cold touched the back of her neck. Only the barrel of a gun could feel like that. “Hello, Grace,” a soft voice purred from the backseat. “I've been waiting.”

She closed her eyes and berated herself. How could she have been so gullible? The answer popped into her head. She'd let the story become so personal that she'd lost her objectivity. She'd been quick to believe a killer, and now it might cost her dearly. “I thought you were on a plane.”

“I lied.”

Grace's heart thumped wildly, and she struggled to breathe. “Wh-what do you want?”

“I thought I'd ride with you to the bridge.”

She clasped her hands in her lap and tried not to move. “How did you get inside this car?”

The sound of jingling keys echoed in her ear, and she cast a sideways glance at her mother's extra set of keys. “I found these when I was at your house last night. I must say they came in quite handy.”

She straightened in her seat and lifted her chin. “So what do you have planned next for me?”

He gave a sharp gasp. “I want to tell you the truth. I thought we could all do it at the bridge. I'm sure you phoned Alex, and he'll be along shortly. Just the three of us at the bridge where it all started, but only one of us will walk away tonight. After you two are out of the way, your father will be next, then I'll get to Clay. That part wasn't a lie. I think he's about to have a skiing accident. As much as he drinks it won't come as a surprise to anyone.”

He laughed when he'd finished speaking, and the hatred in his voice made her skin prickle. “You're despicable. Why would you want to kill my father?” She almost spat the words at him.

“You'll find out in good time, Grace. Now drive. We don't want to keep Alex waiting.”

She shook her head. “Not yet. Not until I know who you are.”

“Then turn around and see.”

She took a deep breath, looked over her shoulder and gasped at the familiar face smiling at her from the backseat.

* * *

Alex walked back into his office from his trip to the break room, opened the tab on the soft drink can he'd purchased and dropped down in his desk chair. He took a long drink and set the can aside before he turned his computer on and berated himself for not getting to the office earlier.

Grace and her mother had returned exactly when they said they would, and he'd begged off staying for dinner so he could go to his office. The truth was, however, he wanted to put some space between himself and Grace. After the conversation with her father, he felt the need to ponder everything that had happened in the past week.

So instead of going to his office, he'd driven home, fixed something to eat and paced through his apartment for hours trying to decide what he wanted. Now at his office with the clock inching toward midnight, he was no closer to an answer than he'd been earlier.

He sighed, took one more sip from the soft drink and turned back to the computer. Looking through the records of several years for some unknown person might be a hopeless task, but he did have a few leads that might prove helpful.

He pulled a legal pad out of his desk and wrote Randal Donner at the top of the page. Underneath he began to write the things he knew about his former principal. (1) Rides motorcycles (2) Father of a son (3) Gave son his motorcycle and bought himself a bigger one (4) Denied drug use in school (5) Denied knowledge of a secret society.

Alex looked over the list, turned the page and started a new list under the heading Facts About The Killer. (1) Rides a motorcycle (2) Had a son who died of an overdose (3) Gave his son a motorcycle (4) Killed the boys who sold his son drugs.

When he'd finished, he laid both lists side by side. The two lists appeared very much alike. However, he didn't know if Mr. Donner's son had died, but he knew who would. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and punched in Brad's number.

He answered after two rings. “Hello.”

“Brad, it's Alex. I'm at the office working on something, and I wanted to run a few things past you.”

“Alex, do you know what time it is? It's nearly midnight. What are you doing there so late?”

“It's this case about the kids at our high school. I feel like I'm so close, but there's something I'm missing. I thought I'd bounce some things off you.”

Brad sighed. “Man, you need to get a life. You can't let work rule you. Take it from an old married man. You need a wife.”

Alex snorted. “I'll think about that. In the meantime, I wanted to ask you about Mr. Donner.”

“Our high school principal?”

“Yeah. What do you know about him?”

“Hmm, well, he's been at the school for years, and from what I hear, he's done a good job.”

“Did you know he's in a motorcycle club?”

“Yes. It's a group of professional people who do charity rides for different organizations. They also do some mission work.”

Alex's eyebrows arched. “What kind of mission work?”

“They go to motorcycle rallies and set up a tent where they speak to people about God's love. They've become well-known across the southeast for their work at events.”

“Very interesting. And what about Mr. Donner's son?”

“Which one?”

“He has more than one?”

“There are three. The oldest is a doctor in Nashville, the middle one is a teacher at the University of Tennessee and the youngest one is in college.”

Alex's phone beeped, and he pulled it away from his ear to stare at the screen. A message popped up that he had an incoming call from Grace. He'd return the call when he finished talking to Brad. He pulled the phone back to his ear.

“So, did Mr. Donner have a son who died?”

Brad was quiet for a moment before he answered. “No, I don't think so. Not unless he died in infancy. My parents have known his family for years, and they never mentioned a child dying.”

“This son would have been college-aged.”

“Then, no,” Brad said. “I know he didn't have one die at that age.”

Alex exhaled a long breath and drew a big X through the page where he'd written the things he knew about Mr. Donner. “Well, that eliminates him as a suspect. My guy's son bought drugs from Landon and his friends, and he rode his dad's motorcycle. The son died of a drug overdose when he was college age. I guess I'll have to keep looking.”

“Wait a minute, Alex. You say this guy's son died of a drug overdose?”

“Yes.”

“Have you thought of Mr. Caldwell?”

Alex bolted upright in his seat. “What?”

“He had a son who died of an overdose. His body was found in an alley near the downtown area about two years after we graduated from high school. Don't you remember us talking about it? We were in college, and a guy we graduated with came by our table in the cafeteria and told us Mr. Caldwell's son had died of an overdose. He remarked how surprised he was because none of the students even knew he had a son. The boy had grown up with his mother in Chicago. Evidently he got into drugs, and she couldn't handle him anymore. So when he started college, she sent him to live with his dad.”

Alex hit his palm on his desk and groaned. “I knew there was something I had forgotten. This is it. When Grace and I went to the school the other day, we talked to him, and he mentioned he had no family. Grace later told me she always felt sorry for him because he didn't have a wife and children. Thanks, Brad. You've given me the answers I needed.”

“One more thing,” Brad interrupted. “Mr. Caldwell also rides a motorcycle. In fact, he's in the club with Mr. Donner.”

Alex clenched his fist and pulled it down in a victory salute. “Yes, this is what I needed. I need to find Mr. Caldwell's son's death record now. Maybe by Monday morning I'll have enough evidence to take it to the D.A. By the way, do you know his son's first name?”

“I think it was Dennis, but he went by Denny.”

“Thanks, buddy. I owe you for this one. I'll see you Monday.”

“See you then.”

Alex disconnected the call and turned to the computer screen. Within minutes he'd found the death certificate of Dennis Caldwell. The death was ruled a drug overdose, and the next of kin listed the name Patrick Caldwell.

Alex sat back in his chair and smiled. Ever since he started in law enforcement, he had a deep desire to bring closure to a victim's family. Now with his job in the Cold Case Unit, he was able to do that. In Landon's case, however, it was too late for his father, but Grace would be happy.

At the thought of Grace, he remembered her call. He needed to let her know what had happened, but she might already be in bed. He picked up his phone and noticed she'd left a message when she called, maybe to tell him good-night. Smiling, he retrieved the message, but his smile disappeared as he listened to what she was saying. His hand began to shake, and he groaned aloud.