Page 343 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

For a moment they were connected, siblings almost. If only in some existential way. Linked by a time when they had been birthed into a world neither of them expected. Instead of living in some place where things always ended well and people were good, they had stepped irrevocably into a place where terror was real, and evil things happened.

Yes, Jacob wanted nothing to do with this family. He didn’t need shadows to add to the dark places already inside his head.

Elaine shifted, about to speak.

He shook his head. “Excuse me.”

Jacob pushed his chair back and paid for all three meals at the counter while Hank sped up the rate at which he shoveled food into his mouth.

He strode outside to the cool February air and watched traffic stream past in both directions.

Hank called for him, but Jacob just strode to the parking lot and Grandpa’s truck. It wasn’t a deficiency in him that meant he wanted nothing to do with these people. There were plenty of stories to be told in the world. He didn’t need to get tangled up in their back-and-forth, the accusations and blaming one another for terrible deeds.

It didn’t mean there was anything wrong with him that he didn’t want to spend more time with Mr. Harris. Jacob just knew what he could handle and what he couldn’t. All the talking he’d done the last couple of days was enough to last him the rest of the month. He was ready to rush home and spend some quality time by himself. If he wanted to get online and chat with his counselor, or his pastor, that was no one else’s business.

Jacob parked the truck in the basement garage and took the elevator to the top floor, using his key to access the floor where he lived.

He dumped his wallet in the dish on his entryway table and toed off his shoes. Strode through the living room, all the way to the wall of windows.

Jacob stared out at downtown while the rain fell in streams down the glass.

CHAPTER FIVE

Washington State

Addie pulled up outside the house at the end of the street. Two days at the field office in Seattle getting briefed, and now she was here.

Okay, fine. So it had been more like a week of trying to convince someone—anyone—to take the assignment, so she didn’t have to. But Zimmerman was right. The field office was overworked and understaffed, and no one was interested in Benson and a case that might not even be a case.

The only plus she could see was that the town didn’t even look like the same place where she’d grown up.

She couldn’t believe how far Benson sprawled these days. It seemed like the whole area was a mini-city, spread over what used to be forest. Now there were people and cars everywhere.

The front yard had been cleared of leaves, but the dead summer flowers still filled barrels on either side of the front steps. Maybe they were older than the last growing season. What did she know?

Addie hadn’t been here in…it didn’t matter.

She shut the engine off and looked back at the main street that led into the neighborhood, just in case she caught a glimpse of the white Toyota that had been following her. The last thing she needed was a tail that led right to the old rundown house where her uncle lived with her sister.

Addie didn’t enjoy explaining the intricacies of her family situation to anyone. It was messed up whatever way she sliced it that days after she was released from the hospital, her mom and mom’s boyfriend had packed up and moved to Arizona, leaving Addie with her uncle. A couple of years later they’d dropped off Addie’s baby sister.

They hadn’t been back since.

She climbed out. There might not be much in its nuance, but shewasbetter than them. She texted. She called. Mostly she worked. And what was wrong with that? There were people in the world who were alive because of Addie’s commitment to her job.

Her calling.

Hernewmission, and her way to do something for the greater good. Be part of a team. The Lord knew she was no good on her own. All she’d ever been was a pretty face, no substance. Being a cop meant something.

She’d stared evil in the face and lived to tell about it—as well as seek to understand. So she missed a couple of thanksgivings. That didn’t mean she would one day be the kind of mother who abandoned her child just to live her life.

Addie grabbed her keys but none of her things.

The door was permanently unlocked, and today was no exception. Not many people here locked their cars or houses. She didn’t even know where the key to this place was.

The entryway was empty, except for the shoes. Jackets and boots. Her uncle’s keys hung on their ring, and his truck was down the side of the house. So he wasn’t out. He was here.

On the wall beside the living room opening was a framed certificate—an award commemorating exceptional service to the US Government by Deputy Marshal Russell Franklin.

---