Authors: Lynette Eason
Her face grew warm, and she shook her head. “I think he was determined to end his life no matter who was here.”
“Maybe,” Alex said. “But we might have avoided the attempt on your life. I told you not to go any closer, and you didn't pay any attention to me. That shouldn't surprise me since you've never listened to me about anything.”
His words cut deep, and she struggled to keep from bursting into tears. “What do you mean? Have you forgotten I'm the girl who followed you everywhere from the time we were ten years old? And that I'm also the girl who loved you and you threw my love away as if it was nothing? I'd say you're the one who never listened.”
He shook his head and gave a sarcastic chuckle. “I guess it's true. Two people can see a situation and interpret it in an entirely different way. If I remember correctly, it was you who walked away from me without caring how I felt.”
She took a step back from Alex and tried to stem the tears welling in her eyes. She'd never been able to make him understand her side of their breakup, and she probably never would. It saddened her to think their once close friendship had come to this.
She lifted her chin and took a deep breath. “Who are you to talk about caring? You haven't even asked me how I'm feeling after almost taking a hundred-foot dive into the river. For your information I didn't ask to come here today, and I sure didn't ask to almost get killed. I was trying to save a man's life.” Her battle to stop her tears failed, and she wiped at one that slipped down her cheek. “It turns out I didn't help, and your attitude has turned a bad day into an even worse one. I'd like to say it was nice seeing you again, but it wasn't.”
Alex raked his fingers through his hair. “Grace, don't you understandâ”
She held up her hand. “I think you've made your feelings very clear, Alex. Now I need to get back to work.”
Clutching her fists at her side, she whirled and stormed down the walkway in the direction of the station's van. She'd failed to get the story of stopping a man from committing suicide that she'd first visualized when she set foot on the bridge. Instead of a piece to add to her résumé, she'd ended up with the last tragic moments of a man's life.
She didn't think she would ever forget the look on Mr. Mitchell's face right before he plunged to the river. She needed to get back to the station and decide how she would use the footage on the noon newscast, but at the moment she couldn't bear to think about the sad events on the bridge this morning. Maybe when she had calmed down, she could reflect on all that happened on the bridge today, but right now she needed to get as far away from it as possible.
* * *
Alex watched Grace stride away from him. Her blond hair glistened in the sunlight that had chased off the early-morning fog. She held her back erect, and anger oozed from every pore in her body. That was his doing. He should never have attacked her like that. After all she'd just had the scare of a lifetime, and he hadn't helped any with his harsh words.
He'd spoken before he had time to think. But he'd been so scared when he saw Mitchell grab her arm and go over the side of the bridge. At first he couldn't move, and then instinct kicked in. He had his arm around her and was pulling her backward before he realized what was happening.
He raised a shaking hand and brushed it across his eyes. Regret that he hadn't been able to save Timothy Mitchell hit him like a kick in the stomach, and he knew it would be a long time before he could forget the look on the man's face when he'd truly realized at that last moment he was about to die. But he had to keep reminding himself Grace had lived. If he'd been a second later, she would be at the bottom of the Mississippi River with Mr. Mitchell right now. He almost groaned aloud at the thought. As usual, their meeting today had ended like many others in the past, but this one was his fault.
His eyes followed Grace, who had stopped to talk with Captain Wilson, and he wished he could take back the harsh words he'd spoken earlier. He couldn't, though, just like he couldn't undo the past.
He'd had many tense moments since he'd joined the force, but today had to be the worst he'd ever experienced. At the moment he'd thought she was going over the bridge, he didn't think of her as the woman who had broken his heart. He remembered her as the little girl who had shared his childhood with him. He had to make her understand how scared he'd been.
Alex turned to the officers who'd gathered at the railing and now watched the rolling water. “Do you need me for anything else?”
One of the officers who had tried to reach Mitchell shook his head. “There's not much more to do here. Thanks for the help.”
Grace turned away from Captain Wilson and headed toward her van. Alex took a deep breath and jogged to catch up with her. She'd opened the door and was about to climb into the van when he called out to her. “Grace, wait. I want to talk with you.”
She closed the van's door and glared at him as he approached. Her eyes flashed with anger when he stopped in front of her. “Do you want to berate me further for my bad judgment?”
Alex swallowed. “No. I wanted to make sure you're all right and apologize for the way I spoke to you on the bridge. You'd just seen a man die, and you were almost killed yourself. After all you became a victim, too, when Mitchell tried to kill you. I shouldn't have spoken to you the way I did. I'm sorry.”
She frowned and shook her head. “So after all these years, your only concern for my welfare is because you saw me as a victim on that bridge.”
He gritted his teeth and leaned closer. “You know that's not true, Grace.”
“You still hate me, don't you?” She tilted her head to one side. “It's sad to think that after all these years we find it difficult to be around each other.”
He took a deep breath. “Yeah, but every time we're together, it ends with angry words like it did on the bridge this morning. I don't want it to end that way this time.”
She looked at him for a moment before she spoke. “Neither do I. I'm always sad afterward when that happens.”
He sighed. “Me, too, but it doesn't change anything. There's too much history between us, Grace.”
She opened her mouth to speak but didn't say anything. After a moment her shoulders sagged, and she nodded. “There is, and there's no way to undo the past. All we can do is try to make the best of it. I'd like for us to at least be civil when we run into each other, though.”
“I hope we can in time,” he said.
“Maybe we'll have time to make it happen while we're trying to find out the truth about Landon's death.”
For a moment he thought he'd misunderstood her, but the determined look in her eye told him she knew exactly what she had said. “You can't be serious.”
“Oh, but I am.” She glanced around as if checking to see if anyone could overhear them before she lowered her voice. “What if his father was right and he was murdered?”
Alex shook his head. “Just because Mr. Mitchell says so doesn't make it true. The police did a thorough investigation, and they believed it was suicide.”
“But still...”
“Suicide, Grace. That's all there is to it.”
She arched an eyebrow. “So are you saying you won't help me find out the truth? We both promised him we would find out about Landon's death.”
Alex stepped closer and frowned. “That was before the man tried to kill you. I think that canceled all promises.”
“No, it doesn't. What if he was right and Landon was murdered? Did you ever hear anybody talk about a secret society at school?”
Alex thought for a moment before he responded. “I suppose I did. There was always talk about some mysterious group who lurked in the shadows. But I thought it was just gossip.”
“What if it wasn't? What if there was a secret group and they killed Landon?”
Alex glanced at his watch. “I don't have time for this, Grace. I have real unsolved crimes I'm working on. Landon's death was a suicide. I have better things to do than go chasing after some silly rumor that circulated in our high school twelve years ago.”
He started to turn away, but she grabbed his arm. “No, I'm not going to let you ignore this. We made a promise to a man right before he died. We may find it hard to be around each other, but that doesn't release us from doing what is right. We have to find out the truth, Alex.”
He stared at her a moment before he pulled loose from her grip. “Although Landon's body was recovered, the medical examiner couldn't establish for certain the cause of death. So the case was never officially closed. Since it's a cold case, I'll look into it again. If I find out anything, I'll let you know.”
She shook her head. “If it's a cold case, you have a responsibility to investigate it. And I have an obligation to my station. I'm not about to let this story go.”
Understanding dawned, and he chuckled. “Oh, I get it. All your talk about doing what's right was just a ploy to get me to help you with a big story. What do you want, Grace? Are you tired of being back in Memphis and you need something that can get you back to the major networks?”
Her face flushed, and she shook her head. “No, Alex. I want the truth, and I'm not going to give up until I find it. I worked as an investigative reporter before I went to the anchor desk, and I can do it again. It would help to have the police involved with this, too. But if you don't help me, I'll just have to do it on my own.”
“You're still as headstrong as ever.” He studied her for a moment. “I don't believe you want the truth, but it so happens I do. You're right about one thing. It is my job to work a cold case, so I'll help you investigate Landon's death.”
She swallowed. “How can you work with me on an investigation if you hate me so much?”
His shoulders sagged, and he shook his head. “I don't hate you, Grace. I don't trust you.”
Tears sparkled in her eyes, but he didn't blink. He'd seen enough of her tears through the years to know it was her way of getting what she wanted. He cleared his throat and glanced down at her arm. “I need to get back to work, and you need to go to a hospital and get that arm checked.”
She nodded. “Derek is going to take me by the hospital before we go back to the station.” She started to climb in the van but turned back to face Alex. “You're right about a lot of things about me, Alex. I made some mistakes in the past, but you did, too. And you're wrong about my reasons for wanting to find out the truth about Landon's death. I hope you can come to see that.”
He didn't know how to answer her, so he shook his head and stepped back from the van. He watched it drive away before he walked to where he'd parked his car.
When he'd gotten out of bed this morning, he'd expected a routine day at work. So far there had been nothing routine about it. He'd seen a man fall to his death, and he'd prevented Grace from following him into the Mississippi River. Now he was about to take another look at a cold case that hadn't produced a lead in twelve years.
The most troubling thing, however, was the fact Grace wanted to be involved. He didn't know if he'd be able to cope with that or not. Being around her stirred up too many painful memories. She'd broken his heart, and it had taken him years to get to the place where he was now. All he could do was protect himself so it didn't happen again. He didn't intend to ever let anyone hurt him again the way she had.
TWO
E
ven with the bright lights on the set, a chill rippled through Grace's body as she watched the footage from the bridge play on the monitor. She and Derek had reviewed the final cut several times, but her heart still hammered every time she watched her struggle to keep from going over the railing.
When the footage ended, the camera focused back on the WKIZ News anchor desk. Her coanchor Todd Livingston turned to her and flashed his trademark toothy smile. “Wow, Grace. You had quite a morning. Thank goodness that detective was there to keep you from being pulled over the railing.”
Grace returned his smile. “Yes, Todd. It was touch-and-go there for a few minutes, but thanks to Detective Crowne, I wasn't hurt.”
His gaze dropped to the elastic bandage around her wrist. “What did the doctor say about your arm?”
She held up her arm. “It's just a sprain. It should be okay in a few days. I really am lucky.”
Todd looked into the camera and broadened his smile. “Knowing you, I doubt if you'll let a little thing like a sprained wrist slow you down.”
She chuckled. “No, I won't. Before Mr. Mitchell plunged to his death, I promised him I would look into his son's death and see what I could find.”
Todd turned back to her, his eyes wide. “But I thought you said his son committed suicide.”
“The police suspect suicide, but they can't be sure. There was blood on the front seat. Mr. Mitchell believed his son was murdered and that the scene was staged to look like a suicide.”
“So, what happens if you find something that suggests it might have been murder?”
“That's a matter for the police, of course. I've already talked with Detective Alex Crowne of the Cold Case Unit, and he's agreed to investigate the case with me.” She looked into the camera. “If there's anyone who has information about Landon Mitchell's death or a high school secret society that he might have been a member of, you can contact me here at the station. Even if it's something that seems inconsequential, get in touch with me. You never can tell what detail might help to solve a crime.”
Todd picked up the papers in front of him and shuffled them into a neat stack. “Well, that's all the time we have for today.” He glanced at Grace and gave an exaggerated shiver. “Suicide on the Memphis-Arkansas Bridge? A secret society in one of our high schools? A twelve-year-old unsolved death? It sounds like my busy bee coanchor has enough to keep the newsroom buzzing for a while. Tune in tomorrow and see what she has for us next.”
Grace plastered a smile on her face and held it until the camera shut down. Then she turned to Todd. “Were you trying to embarrass me on air?”
His eyes grew wide. “Why should I do that? You do it quite well without any help from me.”
Her skin warmed, and she scooped up the papers on the desk in front of her. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Todd pushed to his feet. “Nothing. I just can't imagine a story about a secret society of high school kids in the most prestigious school in the city going on a killing spree. I have better stories to focus on than something like that.”
Grace rose and faced him. She tilted her head to one side and smiled. “You know, Todd, I figured out a long time ago what the difference was between the two of us. We both love to report the news. But all I want is to keep the public informed about what's going on in the world. You, on the other hand, only care how you can use your reports to propel you to a network job.”
Anger flashed across his face, but it disappeared when he noticed the cameramen were listening to their conversation. He took a deep breath and flashed his smile again. “And maybe it will, Grace. You might have blown your chance with the networks, but I haven't yet.”
Grace watched Todd walk away before she turned to leave the set. Derek shook his head and pointed to Todd's retreating figure. “Don't let that guy get under your skin, Grace. He's jealous that you get more fan mail than he does. Everybody here at the station knows the reason you left your job in New York, and they admire you for coming back to help take care of your father after he was wounded in that drive-by shooting. We really respect you for that, Grace.”
Her heart thudded as it did every time she thought of her active father confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. “Thanks, Derek. My family means a lot to me.”
“I know that, but you need to watch your back. Todd made life miserable for his last coanchor before you came. He wants to anchor alone, and he wants to be in a bigger market.” He stuck his hands in his pockets, observed Todd as he walked away and chuckled. “I sure do wish he would get a job at another station. Everybody here would be a lot happier.”
Grace laughed. “Me, too, but I don't have time to worry about Todd today. We have an interview with the mayor this afternoon. Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, do you want to grab a bite of lunch and head on downtown to his office?”
“I'm going to get my hair cut on my lunch hour today. I'll meet you there at two. Okay?”
“Sounds good to me. I'll see you then.”
Grace hurried back to her office and had just grabbed her purse when her cell phone rang. Caller ID identified it as a private number, and she frowned. She sat down behind her desk and pulled the phone to her ear. “Hello.”
“Grace, I saw your broadcast on the noon news. I thought we needed to talk.”
Although the voice sounded familiar, she couldn't identify it. The thought crossed her mind that the caller was using some sort of voice distortion. “Who is this?”
“For personal reasons I'd like my identity to remain a secret. I'm sure you have anonymous callers a lot in your work. Just think of me that wayâa nameless caller who wants to help you.”
Grace took a deep breath. “Okay, but how did you get my private cell phone number?”
“It really doesn't matter. I called because I think you need to be careful.”
Grace's hand tightened on the phone. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“It means that there are people who don't want you to get too close to the truth. Leave the past alone. You'll only end up getting hurt if you dig into Landon's death.”
Grace gasped. “That sounds like a threat. Are you trying to scare me?”
“No, I'm warning you.”
“Do you have some information about Landon's death?”
“Yes.”
Grace sat up straighter in her chair and pressed her cell phone harder against her ear. “Was he murdered?”
“Please, Grace, for your own good, let it go.”
“I can't let it go. Landon was my friend, and from the way you're talking, he was your friend, too. Don't you want people to know the truth?” He didn't answer for a moment, and she feared he'd disconnected the call. “Are you still there?”
She heard a heavy sigh. “All right. I tried to persuade you, but you haven't listened. If you're determined to continue, I see there's nothing I can do to discourage you. I have something I want to give you.”
Grace's eyes grew wide. “I'll meet with you. Just tell me where and when.”
“No, I don't want to do that.”
“Then mail it to me.”
“I suppose I could....” His voice trailed off. Then he inhaled. “No, I'll leave it for you somewhere.”
She frowned. “Where?”
“IâI don't know. Somewhere that no one else would find it unless they were specifically looking for it. I'll think about it and let you know where to look. I'll call you again.”
Grace's heart beat faster. She couldn't let him hang up before he'd agreed to give her his information. “Wait, don't go yet. Tell me where to look, and I'll do it.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I remember hearing you say once that you are a geocacher.”
“Yes, I am.”
“And you said you like puzzle clues that lead to the hidden cache.”
Grace frowned. “Yes, but I don't understand what thatâ”
“Has to do with finding Landon's killer?” Grace's skin prickled at the sudden change in the caller's voice. Moments ago it had been soft and reassuring. Suddenly it had become harsh and demanding. “You don't understand a lot of things, Miss Kincaid. If you want to find Landon's killer, you're going to have to solve much more than a geocache puzzle. I'm looking forward to seeing how smart you really are.”
Grace stood up and gripped the phone tighter. “Don't threaten me, Mr. Anonymous. You may find out I'm a lot smarter than you thought.”
“I doubt it.”
Grace chuckled. “I get it now. You didn't call to warn me off. You wanted me more intrigued with this investigation than ever. If that was your plan, it seems to have worked. No way am I going to give up until I find out the truth.”
He laughed, and the piercing tone chilled her. “Aren't you a little afraid of me?”
Her breath hitched in her throat, and her hand holding the phone shook. “N-no.”
A laugh echoed in her ear. “Yes, you are. I can hear it in your voice. You'd be wise to be very afraid of me. You have no idea what's about to come down on you. Look for my instructions. Game on, Miss Kincaid.”
Before she could ask another question, the call disconnected. She stared at her phone for a moment and debated whether or not she should call Alex. He'd asked her to let him know if she found out anything. So far the only thing she knew was that someone wanted to play some kind of game with evidence he claimed to have about Landon's death and he wanted her scared of him.
If her shaking legs were any indication, being afraid of him wasn't going to be a problem, but she couldn't give up now. She might have just talked to Landon's killer. Alex probably wouldn't agree, though. He would more likely think she'd received a call from some prankster who pretended to have information, but she wasn't so sure.
A cold chill ran up her arm at the memory of the voice on the phone. He said he heard her on the broadcast. Maybe she shouldn't talk about the investigation on the air. From now on, she'd be careful what she said. There were a lot of crazy people in the world, and the last thing she needed was to become the target of one.
* * *
Alex tossed the file he'd been studying down in front of him, propped his arms on his desk and buried his face in his hands. What was the matter with him? He'd been tense ever since he came into the office. Maybe he hadn't gotten over watching a man jump to his death, but in his heart he knew that wasn't true.
The main reason he'd been distracted all morning was because he couldn't quit thinking about Grace. He'd put their past behind him years ago, and now she wanted them to work together to investigate Landon Mitchell's death. Even though he'd agreed, he wasn't sure he was ready to do that. They would have to see each other from time to time, and that could stir up a lot of old memories that needed to be forgotten.
He pushed to his feet, let out a ragged breath and ran his hand through his hair. Maybe some lunch would make him feel better. Before he could turn and leave the office, the door opened, and his partners, Brad Austin and Seth Dawtry, walked into the room. Brad held a sack with the name of Alex's favorite fast food place printed on the side.
“Seth and I were downtown and had lunch. We stopped and picked something up for you since you were holding the office down.”
Alex grinned, reached for the sack and sank back into his chair. “Thanks. I was about to go get something. Now I can eat at my desk.”
Brad nodded. “We thought you might not be in the mood to go out. You've had a tough morning.”
Alex sighed. “Yeah, it's never easy seeing someone commit suicide.”
Brad and Seth exchanged glances. “Well, if you need to talk, buddy, we're here for you.”
“Thanks, guys, I appreciate it, but I'm okay.”
Brad opened his mouth to say something but shook his head, walked to his desk and dropped down in his chair. Seth considered Alex for a moment before he ambled over to his desk. When his partners appeared engrossed in what they were doing, Alex relaxed in his chair and pulled the burger and fries from the bag. He picked up a French fry, dredged it in catsup and shoved it in his mouth.
The thought of the look on Mr. Mitchell's face as he plummeted toward the river flashed in Alex's mind, and he frowned. He tried to chew the French fry he'd just put in his mouth, but he might as well have been eating sawdust for all the taste he got out of the piece of potato. He swallowed the fry, picked up the remainder of his lunch and put it back in the bag for later. There was no point in forcing himself to eat when his stomach churned. Maybe he needed to stop by the drugstore on his way home this afternoon and get something for a queasy stomach.
The problem was he'd had this feeling for years. It recurred every time he saw Grace, and he'd never found any medicine that could cure what ailed him. All he had to do was keep his distance from her, and after a few days he'd feel better.
After a few minutes he pushed to his feet. “I'm going to the break room for a cup of coffee. Anybody want anything?”
Brad and Seth shook their heads, and he strode from the room. He'd only taken a few steps down the hall when he heard music drifting from the break room. He stopped, glanced down at his watch and grimaced. Just his luck. It was time for the WKIZ noon news. He hesitated at the door, unsure if he should enter or turn and walk back to his office. He rubbed his hand over his eyes, took a deep breath and walked inside.
Several officers sat on the couch that faced the television, and their gazes were locked on the picture that filled the screen. Grace sat behind the anchor desk and in her usual professional manner related the events of the morning as she looked into the camera.
He couldn't move as she switched to the video the cameraman had filmed on the bridge. He shoved his hands into his pockets, leaned up against the door frame and watched in fascination as she reported the lead-in story for the newscast. His throat tightened, and his heart thudded as he relived each terrifying moment. Perspiration dotted his forehead, and he reached up to wipe it away.