Page 14 of 4th Silence
Is he serious? “Who said that?”
“Doesn’t matter. If that happens, I can guarantee that Tiffany and her family will never get closure. The killer will never be caught. No matter what your mother pulls, she’ll only end up in a jail cell.”
That thought leaves me speechless. We’ve investigated cold cases before, but none that unleashed this much upheaval or these kinds of threats. What is going on here? Yes, the public outcry is leading the charge at the moment, but if I didn’t know better, I’d think JJ’s office and possibly the Hartmans have something to hide.
Do they?
I close my eyes and picture him in his designer suit, pacing. His tall frame is no doubt taut with tension, and those blue-gray eyes I love are stormy with conflicting emotions. He may love playing the political games his position requires, but he loves justice more. He takes his role as the Emperor of Cold Cases as seriously as my mother does hers as an investigative journalist.
I don’t need logic when I reply this time. “What do you need from me? I’m trying to contain Mom, but you know how she is.”
“Just...be careful. Watch your step. The killer is still out there. All this publicity could bring them out of the shadows. And if he believes any of us are getting close to uncovering his identity, he could come after us.”
The warning in his tone is clear. Internally, I hear Matt’s screeching shovel on the sidewalk again. “Understood. We’ll tread lightly.” But the warning in his tone lingers. He’s right. We’ll have to be smart and make sure Mom doesn’t end up with a target on her back. At least, not a bigger one than she’s already put there.
But I’m not about to let this case go, no matter what obstacles JJ’s superiors throw in our path. And if the Hartmans want to bury the truth, they’re going to have to bury me with it. “Just so you and I are clear—Schock Investigations is investigating Tiffany’s unsolved murder. You know as well as I do that Mom and Meg have dug in their heels. I’m in it, whether you like it or not.”
Dead silence.
My phone buzzes with a second call. District of Columbia Court System. Dammit—I’m almost out of time to get to the courthouse. “Can you hold for a quick sec?”
He hangs up.
Okay, then.
I answer and an automated voice tells me the trial has been postponed. No explanation is given. Judges don’t take snow days. Something’s off.
A follow-up text from the attorney who hired me states that the judge was involved in an accident and is currently at the hospital. An alternate hasn’t been found. More details to come. My suspicious mind immediately wonders, was it an accident?
God, I’m paranoid.
Alex’s door opens. Meg and Matt approach.
“Charlie?” Meg’s voice is soft. “What’s wrong?”
Alex accompanies them. “Bet I know,” he says with a wink.
My retort dies on my lips as JJ rounds the corner. He zeroes in on us like a bullet. No hiding the fact now. With a tense sigh, he jerks his head toward his office, a clear command to follow.
“Good luck,” Alex whispers.
Oh, joy. This should be fun. I silently fall into step behind JJ but can’t keep up with his long legs. Like obedient soldiers, Meg and Matt follow, equally as silent.
His office is a stark contrast to Alex’s. Plush carpet, cool colors, bold artwork on the walls. Just like JJ: dramatic but calculated. We both hesitate to sit—a subtle power play. I plant my feet, spine straight, as I meet my boyfriend’s steely gaze. The eyes I love, usually dancing with mischief, hold a vicious storm.
He looms over his mahogany desk. “This ends now.”
If only I could order Mom around like that. “If we don’t find closure for that family, it will never be over.”
“She’s right,” Meg insists. “Mom is onto something. I can feel it in my bones.”
JJ’s stern gaze shifts to her. “Your bones don’t dictate policy, Meg.”
My sister flinches and locks her jaw.
“Maybe they should,” I shoot back, annoyance getting the better of me. “Right now, your policies are standing between us and justice.”
JJ’s jaw clenches, a muscle ticking beneath his skin. I see the gears turning in that brilliant mind of his, weighing options, calculating risks. He rattles off the same excuses to Meg and Matt that he gave me over the phone—his bosses, the Hartmans, the fact that his office has reviewed the case many times and found nothing new. Blah, blah, blah. The theory that the killer may target Mom gets their attention, as it did me. He knows how to hit the right triggers to give us all pause.
