Cold Case Secrets Page 3

  “I wouldn’t say maniac—”

  “He was convicted of killing two women,” she cut him off, “as well as being credibly accused of assaulting several others before then and of killing his own mother.”

  “And how would you possibly know that?” Jacob asked. “We worked very hard to keep that information out of the public record.”

  “Because, as I told you, I’m Grace Finch, award-winning crime reporter for Torchlight News.” Her chin rose. “If you’d ever bothered talking to me or answering my phone calls or emails, you’d know that we don’t ever report anything without proper verification, and in some cases authorization. But that doesn’t mean we don’t know an awful lot more than we let on.”

  “What are you doing here, Grace?” He shook his head. It was like her mere existence baffled him. “How did you even get here?”

  “I hiked and canoed,” she said. “It took me six hours. I left my car at the front entrance. I’m heading to a cabin, once I can find it.”

  “And you honestly had no idea there were escaped convicts on the loose before you decided to come up here?” he asked.

  “Absolutely none.” Besides, if they had escaped when Jacob had said, she would’ve already been deep in the forest when they broke out.

  “And you just happened to have a Taser on you?” he added.

  “Yes,” she said. “And bear spray. I’m not in the habit of going places unprotected. Now, who are the other two convicts that escaped?”

  “Victor Driver and Hal Turner.”

  So it was true. Her father had escaped prison. A pain-filled gasp slipped to the edge of her lips, but she slid her hand over them before they made a sound. Jacob looked down at her for a long moment, with an inscrutable look in his eyes that she couldn’t begin to make heads or tails of.

  “Stay here,” he said finally. “Don’t move. Don’t breathe. Don’t make a sound. Once everything is secured, I’ll come get you and we’ll airlift out of here. Got it?”

  “I hear you,” she said. “Now, can I please have the gun back?”

  “You mean the gun you can’t legally carry that you lifted off a criminal?” he asked. “No. Be thankful that I’m choosing to overlook the fact it’s also completely illegal for you to have that stun gun.”

  Yeah, she’d wondered how long he’d be able to go without mentioning that.

  “Now stay here,” he said again, “and don’t do anything stupid. Got it?”

  “Got it,” she said. “Nothing stupid.”

  But even then he paused a very long moment with his eyes on her face. “Okay then. We’re down to maybe an hour of daylight, if that, and according to my pilot, Kevin, there’s a pretty bad storm coming that’s probably going to hit sooner than that.” Then, as she watched, his gaze rose to the clouds above. “Lord, help me do this. Help get Grace and myself out of here alive. And may somebody catch these killers before anyone gets hurt.”

  Hang on, had he really just prayed? In front of her? He had, hadn’t he?

  Jacob unholstered his weapon and slowly moved away from her. She watched as he paused and searched the world outside their hiding place. Then he stepped out and she lost sight of him.

  Maybe the fact Jacob had prayed didn’t mean anything. She’d heard plenty of people claim to be religious, including a whole lot of criminals just looking for a break at their trial. Yes, Jacob’s reputation was impeccable, and maybe there were a few really good people of integrity out there, but she wasn’t about to risk her life on Jacob being one.

  No, she couldn’t risk telling him about the cabin, her father or her real reason for being here. But if she could find the cabin, there was the tiniest possibility she could still retrieve whatever her father wanted her to find before being airlifted to safety.

  She cast one last glance through the crevice to the empty space where Jacob had gone and saw nothing but trees. Then she reached up, grabbed hold of a jagged and jutting piece of rock and started climbing.

  * * *

  Jacob stepped into the clearing and paused with his weapon at the ready. It was empty. Water roared far below him to his left. The helicopter whirred above him just out of view. Cutter was nowhere to be seen.

  “Hey, Warren, where was the heat signature again?” he asked, his eyes in the sky.

  “Ahead about a hundred paces to your left.” The detective’s voice was back in his headset. “I can track him, but it means losing eyes on the civilian.”

  Jacob frowned. “Do it.”

  “Are you sure the man the civilian saw was Barry Cutter?” Now it was Kevin’s voice that crackled in his ear.

  “Absolutely.” He started walking slowly, listening for the sounds of life. He had no doubt in his mind Grace had seen exactly who she’d said. As difficult as that woman was, from what he’d read of her articles, it seemed she was also fairly brilliant and knew her stuff. He took a deep breath and fought the urge to go back and talk to her. Something about the way they’d just left things felt awkward. But what else was there to say? He had an escaped convict to find, a helicopter to catch and an undercover detective to meet up with at midnight to collect new evidence, which would hopefully help him solve the one murder that had been tearing him up inside for over half his life.

  And here his brain was having trouble focusing.

  Okay, God. Help me do what needs to be done. Help me get my head in the game.

  He’d been completely knocked off-kilter, to the point of feeling all of his words fall from his head, the moment Grace had said her name and he’d realized just who he was holding against his chest. Of all the women in the world it could’ve been, why did it have to be her? Grace Finch was difficult, challenging, a pain in his neck, impossible...and impossibly beautiful with her long legs, bold and determined eyes, and full lips. He’d never known anyone capable of knocking his breath from his lungs by just walking onto a crime scene like her.

  Had she really had no idea that three lifers had escaped prison when she’d decided to come camping up here in the middle of nowhere? But how else would she have gotten here in time? The convicts had crashed in a secluded area north of the park, so it made sense they’d been able to travel as deep into the length of the woods as they had in four hours, which is why this was where they’d been searching. But if Grace really had parked at the entrance and hiked in that way, there was no way she could’ve heard of the prison escape and made it here by now. Not unless she was airlifted in.

  But could it really be a coincidence one of the country’s best crime reporters just happened to be in the woods in the exact location where notorious serial killers who’d just escaped prison happened to be? Of course not. Not that he could come up with a plausible alternative theory. Or take the time to figure one out now. So much of this didn’t make sense. Starting with the fact that his mouth hadn’t been able to summon so much as, “Yeah, I know who you are,” when she’d told him her name.

  He could still remember the first time he’d seen her walking toward him at the crime scene of a multiple homicide, striding right up to the yellow police tape. He’d hoped she was a detective, a colleague, someone he could grab a coffee and talk over cases with. Not that he’d ever considered looking for a romantic relationship with her or anything. He already had enough people who counted on him, what with two elderly parents, three younger brothers—one getting married on the weekend—three new sisters-in-law and two nephews. But he’d never been opposed to building a new professional and collegial friendship.

  He also remembered the first time Warren had spotted her at a crime scene. The fellow detective had just arrived back in Ontario earlier after spending over a decade putting away an impressive array of criminal lowlifes out east. And somehow, just a few weeks on the job, she’d already caught his eye.

  “That’s Grace Finch, the reporter, right?” Warren had nodded in her direction through the maze of flashi
ng red and blue lights punctuating the night. “I heard she’s a force and a half.”

  Jacob couldn’t even remember what he’d said next. Maybe, “Yeah, she’s pretty tough,” or something like that.

  “I was thinking of asking her to a new show at the Art Gallery of Ontario,” Warren had started saying. Then he’d taken in the look on Jacob’s face and added, “Unless for some reason you’d rather I didn’t.”

  And Jacob had realized in that moment just how very much he’d rather Warren didn’t. Not that he had any right to ask him not to date Grace. Sure, Jacob had been quick to assure him he had no intention of ever pursuing a relationship with Grace. But that didn’t change the fact that he’d been kind of relieved that Warren hadn’t either.

  He paced a few lengths into the woods, slowly, carefully following the broken branches and disturbed ground that told him someone had gone this way. “Hey, Kevin, how are we doing on the fuel situation?”

  “I can give you fifteen minutes.” The pilot’s voice came back in his ear. “Twenty at the absolute max.”

  “You said that ten minutes ago.”

  “Yeah.” The sound of Kevin blowing out a hard breath filled his ear. “That was adding in a time cushion just to be safe in case we got delayed by the storm. Now, we’re all out of cushion.”

  “Got it. Warren, have you got eyes on me?”

  “Heat signature on your own, moving north?” Warren confirmed. “Yup. But I’ve momentarily lost the one you were tracking.”

  Jacob frowned. It happened. The camera’s range was not that broad. “How’s our civilian doing?”

  “Hang on. I’ve got to move the camera,” Warren said. Jacob waited. “I’ve got no heat signatures near the rock formation. Your civilian is gone. But I think I’ve got two figures on top of the rock ledge to the east of you.”

  Jacob turned on his heels. You have to be kidding me! Had she actually decided to ignore what he’d said and take off on her own? His strides turned into a full-out sprint. He reached the crevice. It was empty. No Grace. His jaw clenched. “She’s gone.”

  Lord, help me hold it together...

  A scream filled the air.

  THREE

  “Where are they?” Jacob shouted into his headpiece. He ran, pressing his body through the dense woods and keeping his weapon at the ready. The screams had stopped, but his heart was still rattled from the sound. No matter how many bloody crime scenes he’d walked through, grisly photos he’d looked at or difficult interrogations he’d conducted, the one thing that somehow always seemed to slip through the chinks in his cast-iron core and take him right back to being fourteen years old was the sound of someone screaming.

  His sister, Faith, had fought for her life. That much he knew without a doubt about the attempted kidnapping that had ended her life. She’d thrashed, kicked and clawed at the would-be abductor. Her killer had strangled her and left her lifeless body there by the side of the road. But he hadn’t succeeded in taking her alive. No match had ever been found for the DNA retrieved from under her fingernails. But Jacob had never given up hope that it would and that, one day, he’d would have the satisfaction of knowing that the criminal who’d killed his sister had been sentenced to life in prison because Faith had died fighting him with every ounce of Henry blood pumping through her heart.

  Jacob was the one who’d let her down. True, it had been their brother Trent’s responsibility to walk Faith home from school. But Jacob was the eldest and he’d been wrong to trust his younger brother to take care of something that important, instead of dropping out of track-and-field to make sure he did it himself. “Warren, tell me you’ve still got eyes.”

  “Straight ahead,” Warren said. “A bit to your right. You should see them any minute now.”

  What had he been thinking, leaving Grace alone like that? If she was now on top of the rock face, he imagined that meant she’d somehow climbed up from inside the crevice the moment his back was turned. And then what? And why? What possible reason could she have had for doing that? Did she think she knew better than he did? Grace Finch was more than challenging. She was trouble. And now she was going to get herself killed.

  Another scream shook the air. But it wasn’t the desperate and panicked cry of a girl in trouble. No, this sound was determined, furious and angry, and something about it lifted his heart.

  “Update?” he all but barked.

  “Straight ahead!”

  Jacob looked up as the trees parted and the top of the ridge he’d been following came into view. There they were, at least a story and a half above him. A bald and heavily tattooed killer named Victor Driver was holding Grace from behind, with one beefy, tattooed arm wrapped around her waist and the other trying to get around her throat. But she was fighting him, thrashing against his grip with all her might.

  “Stop! Police! Let her go!” Jacob shouted. He raised his weapon. He’d aim for the shoulder or torso, hopefully taking the man down in a way that kept him alive to face justice. He’d take a kill shot if he had to and only as a last resort. But he didn’t have any hope of getting a clear shot as long as Grace was thrashing. Frustration burned inside him. Hadn’t she heard him? Didn’t she know he was there? If only she would go limp and give him a clean shot, he could save her life. Then it struck him—even if she knew he was there with a gun trained on her attacker, she might still try to take matters into her own hands.

  He aimed high and fired. The bullet flew by barely an inch from Driver’s head. The criminal froze like an animal caught in the headlights. But Grace didn’t stop for a second, almost as if she’d been expecting it. She spun back with her elbows high and struck Driver in the face. The criminal bellowed and grabbed his nose. She broke free and pelted down the rock face toward Jacob.

  “Jacob!” she shouted. “He’s got a semi-automatic! He just needs to reload!”

  He ran toward her, reaching the rock face just as she got to the edge. She looked down. “How do I get down from here?”

  “Jump! I’ll catch you!”

  Her eyes scanned the drop and then her chin rose. “Okay. I’m coming!”

  He shoved his gun back in his holster. She took a deep breath and leaped. He opened his arms and she tumbled into them, just as easily and smoothly as if she’d been made to be in them. Her hands latched around his neck. He held her tightly.

  Grace Finch was in his arms...

  “I’m sorry I left the crevice,” she said. “I just wanted to get a better look at what was going on.”

  “That’s okay,” he said.

  “Thank you for catching me,” she said and pushed back against his chest. He set her down. “He’s got a modified TEC-9. Don’t ask me how because he definitely didn’t take that off a guard. All I know is I don’t want to be here when he gets it working.”

  “Me neither.” A weapon like that could shred the trees and take them down a dozen times over before they even known what hit them. And a serial killer and escaped convict had somehow gotten ahold of one? “Come on.”

  Impulsively, he grabbed her hand. She let him take it and together they ran along the rock face.

  “Kevin!” he shouted. “We need an airlift. Now.”

  “Good!” Kevin said. “Because that ten minutes is running out fast.”

  “Don’t remind me,” Jacob said. “We had a second criminal sighting—Victor Driver. Somehow he’s gotten his hands on a TEC-9.”

  He could’ve done without the whistle Kevin filled his ear with.

  “How’d he get an illegal black market semi-automatic?” Warren barked. “He must have outside help. There’s no way he lifted that from a guard.”

  “Yeah, we know.”

  “Are he and Cutter working together?” Warren asked.

  “No clue. Just get us out of here, and I’ll fill you both in and call in the sightings while we’re in the sky.”

 
As much as he’d have liked to bring both Cutter and Driver back with him, saving Grace was enough. More than enough.

  “Okay, there’s a sheer stretch of rock sixty degrees southeast,” Warren said. “I can lower the ladder there. Just follow the sound of the river.”

  “What about the rescue basket?” Jacob asked.

  “There’s something wrong with one of the tether points,” Warren said. “Ladder is safer.”

  “Got it,” Jacob said. At least he already knew Grace was comfortable climbing, although a suspended ladder wasn’t exactly the same as the rock crevice. He ran with Grace by his side and her hand tight in his.

  “Watch out!” Kevin said, “There’s another heat signature coming up on your right—”

  But even as he spoke, he saw the stocky figure of Cutter ahead of them, a fresh gun clutched in his hand. His heart stopped. He had one convict ahead of them, one behind them, a forest to his right, a rock wall to his left...and a woman holding his hand who he had to protect with his life. Jacob pulled his weapon and fired, but not before Cutter was able to get off a shot of his own.

  “Grace, get down!” Save her, Lord! Jacob leaped, throwing himself in front of Grace just as he felt the searing hot pain of Cutter’s bullet pierce his shoulder.

  * * *

  He’s been shot! Fear flooded Grace’s core, even as her body hit the ground. Jacob landed beside her, his cry of pain mingled with the sound of gunfire that still seemed to echo in the air.

  Detective Jacob Henry had been shot.

  She rolled, sliding her body out from under him as safely as she could without jolting him. Her eyes darted around the trees. She couldn’t see Cutter anywhere, but whether he’d been shot, run off or was just biding his time, he couldn’t have gone far. Either way, they couldn’t just stay here and wait for him to fire again. A large jagged rock, at least three feet high, lay to her right. She grabbed Jacob’s uninjured arm and crawled for it, half leading and half pulling him, feeling him crawl after her. They collapsed behind it and she turned to Jacob. He was lying on his side. Blood seeped from his right shoulder. “Jacob? Are you okay?”