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Authors: Jennifer Morey

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BOOK: Cold Case Recruit
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The last of what he said didn’t need to be so harsh, but Brycen did have a terrible outlook on marriage. Had Kayla experienced firsthand what it was like to fall in love with a man who would never fully commit to her? How sad.

But Mr. Jefferson was off base in judging Brycen. Brycen hadn’t intended to kill Kayla, and although he may never have married her or any woman for that matter, he didn’t deserve a life sentence of blame.

“Kayla told me about how hard you were on her,” Brycen finally said. “I didn’t bring it up back when I lived here, after the accident. But she resented you for trying to mold her into your perfect idea of her. All she wanted was your approval for the things she did accomplish. She didn’t want to go to college. She wanted to work for the Forest Service.”

Drury inwardly cheered that he fought back.

“She couldn’t make a living doing that. I tried to guide her to a better life, that’s all. She knew I loved her.” Mr. Jefferson’s beady eyes grew fierier with anger.

“She knew you would love her more if she went to college.”

Now Mr. Jefferson visibly flinched. His relationship with Kayla must have been strained, and Brycen dug where it hurt most.

“You’re still looking for someone else to blame for the things you regret in your relationship with her,” Brycen said. “If that has to be me, then go ahead. Blame me.”

Mr. Jefferson swallowed and Drury could feel his inner turmoil, the anguish over his regrets and his intense loss.

“I supported my daughter,” he finally said, sounding choked. “I only wanted the best for her.”

Brycen said nothing. The best hadn’t been him.

“If she hadn’t been with you, she’d still be alive,” Mr. Jefferson said again, pain drawing down his eyes.

Still, Brycen said nothing, only met the other man’s agony with stoic resolve.

Drury didn’t approve of Mr. Jefferson’s method of attack, but she sympathized with him. Maybe all he needed was a show of kindness. She reached out and took his hand, giving him a squeeze.

He turned to her in surprise, some of his suffering easing. With his defensiveness, few likely did offer a comforting hand.

“You be careful with this one.” He slipped free of her gentle grasp and turned to Brycen. “We managed to move on with our lives after you left. Do the right thing. Go away and don’t come back. Just...leave us in peace.”

She watched him leave. What would it take for the man to overcome his bitterness?

Maybe Brycen was a little selfish, but not when it came to Kayla’s death. He shunned marriage and kids and that might make him selfish. Had he led Kayla into a relationship he never intended to commit to? And then something else came to her. She could see why no marriage, but why no kids?

She watched Mr. Jefferson walk outside and cross the street, wiping his eyes. The father of a lost daughter still in mourning, a wound reopened with Brycen’s return to Anchorage. She understood that agony all too well. But Mr. Jefferson and his daughter Avery seemed extreme in their reaction.

Drury faced Brycen again, who looked at her during her thoughts. She met his eyes a while, resisting the pull of attraction.

“What happened the night of the accident?” she asked.

Brycen’s face never altered. He continued to meet her eyes. And when she thought he would refuse to answer, he finally said, “We were coming back from a trip to Colorado. We drove. It was a road trip. Late summer. Early fall. I introduced her to my parents and then we drove back. We stopped at all the touristy places. Yellowstone. Jackson Hole. We took a ferry to Victoria Island and then from there to Anchorage. It had been snowing awhile, a cold spell moved in. Driving was treacherous.”

He folded his hands on the table, his cup of coffee encircled by his arms. He lowered his head slightly, and then met her eyes again. “I wanted to drive her to my cabin. I had just bought it.” His eyes drifted, memory taking him back into time. “We didn’t make it. I noticed someone following us. He rammed into the back of me before I had a chance to lose him. When he couldn’t drive us off the road, he started firing. I swerved to avoid either of us being hit and crashed into a tree. I saw Kayla unconscious, but the shooter approached the car. The drug addict. I got out and shot him. Then I pulled Kayla from the wreckage.” He lowered his head again, this time lower than before. “But she was already gone.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

They had more in common than she’d realized. Except she still felt there was more he wasn’t saying. “And Kayla’s family has blamed you ever since.”

He nodded. “Her father tried to get the police to arrest me for murder. It was all very dramatic. He’s a prominent figure here, at least in his corner of the city. He used media and his connections to try and destroy me.”

But he hadn’t been able to, because Brycen had his own reputation. Drury remembered hearing about the scandal in the news. She hadn’t paid much attention back then. Around that time, she’d met Noah and they’d fallen in love. They married and then she had gotten pregnant with Junior.

“I didn’t fight him. I didn’t even have to defend myself. Clearly I didn’t murder Kayla. But he was overwrought with grief. Her mother and sister, too. I tried to understand why. That grew more difficult as time went on. After a year, I left.”

And the incident had haunted him ever since.

“You think her father is so emotional just because he blames you for her death and his rocky relationship with her?” She couldn’t get past the amount of time that had gone by.

“He blames himself. He hasn’t found a way to come to terms with that. Maybe he never will. I pity him.”

Which explained why Brycen apologized and didn’t argue back when Kayla’s family verbally attacked him. He felt sorry for them and, certainly, terrible for his involvement in causing so much pain. And most of all, his part in Kayla’s death.

“You left because of Kayla’s family?” she asked.

“No. Not completely. I left for me, mostly.”

“Because you loved her? Kayla?”

“I did love her. Alaska as a whole became the source of bad memories. I left to start fresh.”

He’d definitely started fresh, successfully so.

“Let’s go.” Brycen stood. “We’ll come back later. I don’t want to look too suspicious.”

Nothing deterred this man from his job. Even a run-in with his dead ex-girlfriend’s father. Or maybe he’d just gotten good at shutting out things that upset him.

“What are we going to do now?” she asked as they left the coffee shop.

“Send our own report to the deputy director who oversees Carter’s unit. Maybe he’ll order a search warrant of Carter’s house and finances. Then I’d like to go back to Melvin’s to look for anything we missed. There must be something.”

“You’re sure the deputy will get a warrant?”

“I can be persuasive.”

“You haven’t been persuasive with me.” She couldn’t resist the barb. Teasing though she might seem, she hadn’t missed how controlled he’d been with her. They had hot chemistry at times, but he kept his cool. She needed to know if he felt as much as her.

He put his hand on her lower back, guiding her toward the vehicle. “Why do you need persuasion?”

At the passenger door she stopped and faced him. What she’d learned about him softened her, touched a deep place in her. She acted now on impulse, on instinct...on what her heart led her to do.

She slipped her hand along the back of his neck. “I’ll show you.” Going up on her toes, she kissed him.

 

Chapter 9

S
till rattled from the kiss Drury stole from him, Brycen gladly alighted from DAI’s helicopter. It had started to snow, falling lightly now, but the forecast said it would pick up by noon. The helicopter pilot had warned them they’d have to get back before then.

Drury kept smiling at him all the way here. This morning. In the helicopter. Her sparkling blue eyes held a knowing, intimate light. She haunted him. He wondered if he overreacted to a kiss. Ridiculous that he should feel threatened by Drury, her mouth, her softness. But she did do that to him. Her lifestyle and her beliefs didn’t match his. She had a son. And she lived in Alaska. He swore he’d never come back here, that he’d move forward and live a life of abundance away from bad memories and people who despised him. And yet here he was, back in Alaska, reminded of bad memories, facing people who despised him. He wished he could resolve the latter, but Kayla’s family would never let him. Part of Kayla’s death would stay with him always, but he had succeeded in moving forward—up until now.

He felt in danger of being drawn back to Alaska, through a beautiful woman who fit him more than he’d like to accept right now.

Her mouth touching his, her hands gliding up his chest and around his neck, breasts pressing to him, thighs against him, replayed for his pleasure as he walked toward the Cummingses’ home. She had tasted him in sultry urgency. He’d wanted to lift her and put her on the passenger seat and take her right there. He’d imagined it. He imagined it now, removing her pants and opening her just for him.

He didn’t think she’d been prepared for the Kelvin scale heat they generated. She’d taken hold of his jacket as though to remove it and looked up at him in a daze. Both of them had lost their breath. He met her passionate face and barely managed to heed their location—in public. He could take her to the back of the SUV...

He imagined what that would have been like. The windows were tinted. He could start the engine to keep it warm inside—not that they’d have needed heat. They could have gotten completely naked. He could only imagine what she looked like without clothes. Stunning. Soft. Wet for him...

“You going in or what?”

He snapped out of that hot dream and realized he’d come to a stop at the door. Drury had knocked and rung the bell. No one was home. He turned the doorknob. It was unlocked. No one locked their doors here. And Melvin must not fear anything if he still left it unlocked. He went inside. Much of the place was similar to the last time they’d been here. He did a quick search, finding Evette’s purse in the same place as before.

She hadn’t been home at all. Ignoring that bad sign, he left the bedroom and looked for anything they might have missed. In the spare bedroom, he found a door in the wall that led to a crawl space. He’d seen it last time, but this time he opened the door and found a light switch, a chain hanging from a bare bulb. He turned that on and went still. To the right, a hole had been dug and stairs constructed. Crouching, he made his way to the stairs, seeing a horizontal door laying open with a padlock looped through a metal latch. The door could be locked from above. Going down the stairs, he found himself standing in an underground bunker of sorts that had been roughly constructed.

Drury stood beside him, wiping her hands on her pants. The stairs didn’t have railings, only the dirt wall for support.

Not directly beneath the house, the bunker had been dug along the side. Shelves contained canned and dried food, several cases of water and other supplies someone might need in an emergency. A generator would power a refrigerator and stove, and three mattresses lining the far wall would provide a place to sleep.

“Melvin is a survivalist,” Drury said.

“So it would appear.” He looked for signs that Evette had been kept here and found none. Why hide a bunker? Or had Melvin hidden it? He couldn’t dig through the concrete foundation of the house, so maybe he’d dug it here.

Drury used her phone to take pictures, a precautionary step in case the bunker had importance they had yet to realize.

Brycen’s radio crackled before their pilot said, “Cage. Over.”

He pressed the push-to-talk button on the wire connected to the radio clipped to his belt. “Cage here. Over.”

“Weather is moving in fast. It’s heavier in Anchorage and moving this way. I’m going to have to head back in fifteen or I’ll be stuck here. Over.”

Brycen climbed the stairs after Drury and looked out the window. The snow had picked up since they’d come inside but still had yet to accumulate on the ground. He didn’t want to waste time and leave so soon. He needed to do a thorough search, and they couldn’t see the ground through snow.

“We’ll stay in town for the night. Come back for us when it clears.”

Drury stopped and turned to him in surprise. It would be a bit of a hike into town, unless he found a vehicle to steal.

“Roger that. Over and out.”

“Over and out.” Brycen lowered his hand and said to Drury, “Weather is getting bad in Anchorage. The pilot needs to head back.”

“Where are we going to stay? What about Junior?”

“Junior will be safe with your parents. I saw an inn the last time we were here.” Hopefully one night wouldn’t bother Junior too much.

“You mean the one where someone shot at us?”

“That would be the one.” Grinning at her sarcasm, he guided her toward the door and was glad she didn’t put up any fuss. Being raised by her adventurous parents had conditioned her to be flexible. He liked that.

Outside, they began to search the surrounding land, looking for any disturbed earth to indicate Melvin had dug a grave. Another reason why leaving wasn’t an option.

“Let’s search in a grid.” He looked up at the gray sky, clouds sinking lower than when they’d arrived. “You take that side.” He pointed to the other side of the house.

“Okay.” Drury hiked that way and he started a grid pattern on this side.

By the time he met Drury in the middle, the snow had picked up in intensity. “Let’s search the woods.”

She headed for the trees and he spaced himself far enough from her to cover more ground.

“There’s a path.” Drury pointed ahead.

Brycen saw the bare dirt exposed between patches of snow and went there. They followed the winding path down a slope. Only a few snowflakes filtered down through the canopy. Logs had been placed to make stairs, shoring the dirt to the next level below. At the base of the slope, the forest ended at a clearing along the shore. A boathouse and dock looked empty.

“Does Melvin go on his fishing trips from here?” Drury asked.

“It’s small for a commercial fishing vessel, but maybe he doesn’t fish with a large boat.” It was feasible that he docked here between fishing trips.

“There’s a port on this island, isn’t there?” she asked.

“Yes. I saw it when we went to town last time.”

“Convenient access here, though,” she said.

“Yeah. Convenient.” He stepped onto the dock. The boathouse was open on the dock side. There were no boats inside, but it was big enough to fit two, with docking running along the outer sides except, of course, where the boats could float inside from the ocean. There was nothing here that triggered any suspicion, only tools and supplies necessary for maintaining a fishing operation.

“If Melvin has two boats, maybe Evette took one of them to escape,” Drury said.

“They only have one vehicle. We’ll check the town port to see if she went there.”

“Most likely she would not stay on this island.”

If she was still alive. “Probably not.” Her family didn’t even know where she was. If she’d taken a boat, she might have had what she needed on board or stopped on another island, assuming she was still alive and had cash. She’d left all her things at the house. Brycen didn’t want to think about Evette being dead.

Drury took more pictures and heard the sound of a boat out on the water. She looked there with Brycen.

A man stood on deck of a moderately sized vessel, holding binoculars and looking at them. It wasn’t Melvin. He lowered his binoculars and watched them as the boat passed; then, just before he disappeared behind some trees, Brycen saw him take out a cell phone.

“Come on.” He turned. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Do you think that was someone who knows Melvin?”

“Hard to say.” He didn’t want her here if something went wrong like the last time they’d been here.

“How long before we reach town?”

“An hour.” He looked up at the falling snow. In the trees they would be better protected. He wasn’t worried about making it to town safely. He was, however, wondering who the man on the boat had called.

Drury hiked next to him into the woods. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

So did he, but he wouldn’t alarm her.

“Everything looks normal, but it feels abnormal,” she said. “Dangerous.”

He squinted up at the sliver of cloudy sky he could see through the canopy and then all around them.

“Do you feel it?” she asked.

Just then the sound of approaching motorcycles or ATVs grew louder. Brycen stopped with Drury. He exchanged a single look with her before taking her hand and running through the trees.

He looked back in time to see two ATVs pass along the path. The rider of the second saw them and stopped, veering into the trees. The trunks were too close, so he had to stop and get off.

Brycen ran with Drury deeper into the woods. He’d studied the map of this area before coming here, so he had a pretty good idea of where to go. Dense forest would prevent the ATV riders from following. They’d have to chase on foot.

As he ran, he spotted movement to their left. He tugged Drury behind a tree trunk just as a gunshot vibrated off the mountainside. He took out his pistol and aimed, seeing the man pop out his head from the cover of a tree. He fired and the man dropped.

Searching for other movement and seeing none, he took Drury’s hand again. “Come on.”

He ran with her through the woods, veering around trunks and glancing back. When Drury’s breathing alerted him to her exhaustion, he stopped. Turning in a circle, scanning the trees while she bent over with her hands on her knees, he saw someone duck behind a trunk.

“Wait here. Stay behind a tree.” When she lifted her head and nodded, mouth open and drawing in deep breaths, he began his approach toward the man.

Keeping to the left and watching for any other movement, he made his way closer to the tree where the man had taken cover. The man looked out around the trunk and then started forward, toward Drury.

That would not do. Brycen began stalking the man, coming up behind him, quiet and ever watchful for anyone else in the area. Rushing up behind him, he hooked his arm around his neck and put his pistol to his temple. “Drop it.”

The man dropped his gun.

“Who do you work for?”

“I’ll nail my own coffin if I tell you that,” the man said.

“I’ll nail it for you if you don’t. Just like your friend.” He shoved the man, giving his shoulder a push so he faced him. With one kick, he sent the man smashing against a trunk.

The man gaped at him, stunned with the knowledge his friend had been killed.

“Start talking,” Brycen said.

“Man, you might as well pull that trigger. I’m dead anyway if I tell you anything.”

Brycen waited, unflinching.

“What they said about you is true,” the man said. “But you can’t win this.”

Brycen saw and heard his fear. The man wouldn’t talk. Whoever paid him must be far more dangerous than he or anyone realized. This wasn’t just a one-man operation. Whatever the stranger from the Cummingses’ house the day of the domestic violence call had to hide, it was big.

Brycen stepped closer, a head taller than the other man, who watched warily. “I’m going to let you go.”

The man blinked a few times.

“But if you try to come after us again, I’ll kill you.”

The man stared at him awhile. “I believe you.”

Stepping aside, Brycen said, “Tell whoever sent you I’m coming for them next.”

The man walked away from the tree and then looked over his shoulder as he started to run.

*

Reaching a clearing, snow pelted Drury’s face. They were probably five miles from town. By the time they reached it, they’d be frozen and caked in snow. She hadn’t dressed for a long hike in this kind of weather. Her feet were cold and she felt the chill seeping into her core.

“We should have left with the pilot,” she said, loud enough for him to hear over the wind, which had picked up considerably since he’d scared off the ATV rider. She still didn’t like recalling how he’d capped the other one. He had no choice, of course. The man shot at them and would have killed them if he had the chance.

“We’ll take shelter just ahead. I saw a place on the aerial photo.”

“What place?”

He didn’t answer, instead stopped at the top of the hill they’d been climbing. She came up beside him. Through the blowing, thick-falling snow, she saw a cabin. It had a propane tank and it didn’t look like anyone was there.

She followed him down the hill and up the wood stairs to the front door. He tried the handle. It was locked. He looked around and found a rock after kicking through some deepening snow. Removing his jacket, he wrapped his hand in the sleeve and used the rock to smash one of the two front windows. Then he climbed inside and opened the door.

Drury entered the small cabin and shut the door, which didn’t do anything to warm her. Though they were out of the wind, the chill had invaded the place and came through the broken window. She curled her fingers in front of her mouth and blew warm air on them while Brycen went to a three-sided fireplace in front of the door and between a small kitchen area and living room. A low rock base that bordered the fireplace ran all the way down the living room wall, wood stacked to the ceiling there.

She wandered into essentially a single room, on the left a rustic living room with an elk-patterned couch and recliner around a deep blue area rug and a bulky rectangular coffee table. No TV or any electronics. A painting of Mount McKinley, now renamed Denali, hung above the couch. Two kerosene lamps made charming light sources for the side tables, and some battery-operated lanterns on a shelf with several books. Beside the shelf, a back door had a window on top. Through that, snow fell at an angle with increasing wind.

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