Legacy of Lies

Rich shook his head. She’d probably had a soft drink, that was the kind of girl she was. But how long would she maintain her standards if she hung around Mason and his crowd? The doctor’s family went to the same little community church that Rich did. He’d taught Taylor in youth group, and she was a classmate of his daughter Katrina’s, though not a close friend.

He leaned closer. “Does your mom know you’re rocketing around in this death trap with a drunken passenger?”

Taylor glared. “Hey, he called me up and asked me to drive him home from Sparky’s Bar. He knows you guys are waiting for him to slip up again. He’s not so bad, you know. Just needs someone to understand him.”

Right. He’d heard that same song from women with black eyes and busted jaws, courtesy of the poor, misunderstood dirtball they called boyfriend or husband. He didn’t want Taylor to end up another statistic. Mason was known to have the Elling temper.

“At least let me give you a lift back to your own car.” Rich offered a smile.

She tucked her lower lip between straight white teeth that must have cost her folks a hunk of change, and then shook her head. Her gaze was fixed on the young man who stood swaying on the entrance walk.

“I’ll probably hang out here awhile. Play video games. Whatever.” She opened the car door, and Rich stepped out of the way as she emerged. “I’m nineteen years old and headed for college in a few weeks. I appreciate your concern, but you and my parents will have to stop mother-henning me.” She flipped her blond hair over her shoulder and stomped off.

“If you think you need a ride,” he spoke after her, “call me no matter what time it is.”

Heart heavy, he got into his SUV. Something was seriously funky in that household, and a bright girl with a promising future like Taylor didn’t belong in all that darkness. But he couldn’t control her choices. Just like he couldn’t control Jan Keller’s choice not to tell him what she knew about the baby that was buried in her backyard.

He guided his vehicle out of the driveway and onto one of the torn-up city streets. Behind him a pair of headlights came up quickly, bouncing over the bumpy track. Whoever it was needed to slow down and keep their distance. Frowning, Rich’s hand moved toward the control for his bubble lights, then froze. The car behind flashed its headlights and signaled to pull over. Rich eased to the side of the road, and the other vehicle stopped behind him. The car’s door opened, and the dome light revealed Nicole climbing out. Rich met her between their vehicles. The headlights from her car outlined her figure but left her features in shadows.

“Hi.” He ventured a small wave. “Thanks for handling matters so well back there.”

She let out a small laugh. “Here, I thought you were going to scold me for horning in on the investigation.”

“I probably should, but I get the sense that you were caught up in the moment and ended up where you didn’t expect.”

Her shoulders slumped. “The whole day has been like that. More like the past year.”

Was something heavy going on in Nicole’s life even before her husband was killed? Rich stopped the question from popping out of his mouth. He didn’t have the right to ask anything like that yet.

“What have you got there?” He motioned toward a bag she cupped in a palm as if it were fragile and precious.

“I was waiting at the intersection up the street for you to leave the Ellings so I could give you this. It’s from Hannah. Baby Samuel’s hairbrush. Maybe there’s still usable DNA on it.” Nicole held the bag out to him.

Rich let out a low whistle and took the offering. “Thanks. I knew you’d handle Hannah like a pro.”

“No handling necessary.” She crossed her arms. “She volunteered. At least one person in that house wants the poor child identified.”

Rich nodded. “We need an ID to have any hope of finding out who might have buried the infant on your grandparents’ property.”

“You’re giving them the benefit of the doubt?”

Her breathless hope sent a shaft through Rich’s heart. He steeled his emotions. “No more than I would any other citizen in good standing. Innocent until proven guilty, remember?”

She cleared her throat. “Well, thanks for that anyway.”

An awkward silence stretched between them.

“Good night,” she ventured first and turned away.

“Good night,” Rich called after her.

Good night? He climbed into his SUV. What a joke!

Nicole’s discovery could steamroll her whole family under the wheels of justice. Unfortunately, he was the guy that had to drive the steamroller whichever direction the investigation led. Neither of them was going to sleep well tonight.

Nicole tossed and turned in her upstairs bedroom. The last time she looked at the bedside clock, it was nearing midnight. There was no way that Grandpa Jan or Grandpa Frank had anything to do with her horrific discovery. They were so honest they’d go out of their way to return a dime if a checkout clerk gave them too much change. But then why was an infant buried beneath Grandpa Frank’s roses?

And what was the matter with her that she’d taken note of that police chief’s naked wedding ring finger? What a time to suddenly feel attraction for a man. The shock of her discovery must have affected her even worse than she thought if a square chin and a pair of vivid hazel eyes could jump-start her pulse.

Had he always been single? Or was he divorced like too many cops? Maybe widowed? That would be a switch, the spouse going before the cop, but it happened. His voice had been strong, yet gentle when examining the remains. He’d been firm when questioning her grandmother, though, but not bullying, like some behaved with suspects.

Suspects! Her grandmother was a suspect in the death of a baby. Unbelievable! Her grandfather, too. He might be dead and gone, but this discovery promised to assassinate the memory of his character. Unless he was clearly exonerated. Unless they both were.

Nicole caught her breath. Please, God, let this mystery be solved. But what if the case remained unsolved and suspicion clouded the rest of her grandmother’s days? And let my grandparents be innocent. But what if they weren’t?

Sighing, Nicole sat up and switched on the small table lamp. She might as well go downstairs and warm a cup of milk. The old-fashioned remedy had helped many nights when Glen was out on night duty, and she knew he had a particularly dangerous case on his docket.

Nicole threw on her robe and padded barefoot down the carpeted stairs, relying on the nightlights her grandmother had strategically placed along the route for vision. She stepped off the hallway carpet onto the cool kitchen linoleum, and the sound of stealthy footfalls on the porch froze her in her tracks. She’d read in the local newspaper about a rash of nighttime thefts in the county. Her heart did a somersault.

Had they forgotten to lock the door?

The door latch clicked, and the panel creaked slowly ajar.

FOUR

“Grandma!” Nicole blurted the word on a gust of pent-up breath.

The nightlight over the sink outlined the full figure who stepped inside. Grandma Jan let out a squeak and pressed a hand to her chest.

Nicole stepped farther into the kitchen. “What in the world are you doing outside in the middle of the night?” Had she been poking around in the crime scene? But no dirt showed on the woman’s robe, nightgown or slippers.

“Aw, honey, you nearly scared me out of my skin.”

Nicole gurgled a laugh. “You did the same for me, sneaking around like that.”

Grandma Jan’s posture stiffened. “I wasn’t sneaking. Couldn’t sleep so I went outside for some fresh air. What are you doing up this time of night?”

“I couldn’t sleep, either, so I thought maybe a glass of warm milk would help.” Nicole went to the refrigerator. “Would you like one?”

Her grandmother patted her on the shoulder. “No, thanks, dear. I think I’ll try to catch forty winks now.”

Nicole turned and watched her pad away. Was that a note of relief she’d caught on the other woman’s voice? Like she’d successfully accomplished a secret mission? Nicole shrugged. She was always second-guessing people’s reactions and motives. Hazard of being a cop’s daughter and a cop’s wife. She needed to get out of that habit. She wasn’t going to get caught up in that way of life anymore. Another reason to kick herself for checking out that fine-looking police chief. Available or not, he was off-limits as far as her wounded heart was concerned.

She thunked a mug onto the counter more briskly than she’d intended and winced at the noise. Then the milk came out of the jug faster than she’d anticipated and slopped over the edge of the cup. Nicole made an exasperated sound, wiped the counter with a paper towel and threw it in the wastebasket under the sink.

That’s funny. An empty trash bag lined the container. Last night before she went to bed, she’d made a mental note that the full garbage bag needed to be taken out to the large trash bin in the alley bright and early in the morning before the city truck came by to pick it up. Her grandmother must have taken the trash out as part of her midnight wanderings.

On one hand, finding something productive to do if she wasn’t able to sleep would be just like Grandma Jan. On the other, what had her grandmother been looking for in her bedroom right after the gruesome discovery? Some sort of evidence that had to do with the bones that were found? Did she dispose of the article in the trash? If so, why wait until the middle of the night? Grandma could have taken out the trash while Nicole was gadding around town in her car. But maybe Grandma couldn’t decide what to do with whatever it was she wanted to hide? Maybe it had taken her until the middle of the night to make up her mind to destroy it?