Cold Case Tracker, page 18
“Yup,” she said. They walked through the parking lot toward his vehicle. “Just routine.”
“And how is she?” Jackson’s eyes were still on Skye.
“Absolutely perfect.”
“Ha! I could’ve told you that.”
As they reached Jackson’s truck, she could see Hudson’s head sticking out the front window. But as they approached, Hudson leaped into the backseat and curled up beside Skye’s car seat. Jackson opened the back door and buckled her in.
“Goggy!” Sky shouted as she flopped her head sideways onto Hudson with a giggle. He licked her cheek.
“Yes, sweetie,” Amy said. “Hudson is a big fluffy doggy.”
Jackson’s eyebrows rose. “Is that her first word?”
“Doggy?” Amy translated, with a laugh. “It might be. Are you jealous?”
“Of Hudson?” Jackson asked. “Always. He’s everybody’s favorite.”
“Not mine,” she said.
His eyes met hers and held them for a long moment. Then he opened her door for her. Once she was inside, he walked around to his side, stepped in, and they started driving.
“Do you have an update on the investigation?” she asked.
“Not this time,” Jackson said. “I just need to drop something off quickly to a friend.”
Jackson and Hudson had made several visits to Pine Crest Retirement Home in the past few months to fill them in on the case as it developed, sometimes with Gemma, Amy and Skye in tow. After Paul’s death, his DNA had come back as a match to Kenny Stanton’s. Several seniors had also made a positive photo identification, and military medals found in Paul’s home had turned out to belong to murdered veteran Gordon Donnelly.
While Paul died before he saw justice, Amy knew it had given the residents a degree of peace to know the case had finally been solved. Thanks to some firm pushing from Finnick, an investigation had been opened into how the original case had been bungled too, with several current and retired officers being brought in for questioning. Thankfully, Reese had pled guilty to the kidnapping and working with Paul to fence stolen items, saving Amy the ordeal of having to testify against him at trial. Investigators across Canada and the United States were still unraveling the mystery of the man who’d called himself Paul Keebles, his multiple aliases, and the many people he’d lied to and stolen from. His legal name had turned out to be Kenneth Paul Stanley, he was eight years older than he’d told Amy he was, and officers were currently investigating his suspected involvement in various other jurisdictions for multiple other cold case crimes and murders.
As they pulled up in front of Pine Crest, Amy could see Walter sitting on a bench in front of the home, arms crossed and hands covered in large woolen mittens. Jackson pulled the car to a stop. But as he and Amy got out, Walter stood and waved both of them off.
“Stay there,” he called. He ambled toward them. Despite the fact he was trying his best to frown, Amy could see the unmistakable twinkle of joy in the old man’s eyes. “No need to get yourself out. I’ll come to you.”
“Yes, sir,” Jackson said with a smile. He went around to the back door, opened it and pulled out a wooden box from under the driver’s seat.
Amy gave Walter a warm hug.
“How are you doing?” Walter asked. “Jackson taking care of you all?”
“He is,” Amy said.
Jackson stood back and waited as Walter stuck his head in the open backseat and said hello to Skye and Hudson in turn. Then the older man turned to Jackson.
“So, what’s all this about?” he asked. “You called and said you had something for me?”
“Yes, sir.” Jackson handed him the wooden box. “Police released Gordon Donnelly’s possessions from the evidence locker today, and when they contacted his granddaughter, she said the family wanted you to have these.”
Walter took off his mittens and opened the box. His eyes misted as he looked down at the collection of Second World War medals nestled in the blue velvet inside. He wiped his hand over the back of his eyes, opened his mouth, then closed it again and patted Jackson on the back.
“Thank you,” Walter said.
“You’re welcome,” Jackson replied. “Thank you for being so relentless in making sure this case wasn’t forgotten.”
Walter nodded. Then he glanced at Amy.
“This man is a good man, you know,” Walter told her and pointed at Amy.
Amy’s eyes searched the strong and tender lines of Jackson’s face. “I know.”
Jackson and Amy drove in comfortable silence back to the cottage. Jackson laid his hand in the space between them. She took it and their fingers linked so naturally it was as if their hands had been made to hold each other. She’d lost track of how many times she and Jackson had held hands, hugged or gently kissed goodbye over the past few months. All she knew is that there was something safe and comforting about having him near. She’d never felt this before.
When they reached the cottage, there was an unfamiliar truck parked in the driveway. She carried Skye to the house, and Jackson held open the door for her. She quickly realized who the pickup belonged to as Nippy made a beeline toward them. The two dogs greeted each other in a flurry of enthusiastically wagging tails. Thankfully, Gemma had made peace with having the K-9s around, although Amy knew that in Gemma’s heart, no dog could ever hold a candle to her Reepi. Amy could hear the parrot chirping cheerfully from his perch in the living room. He’d been traveling with Gemma to and from the store since the break-in, and was no longer there alone overnight. They found Finnick and Gemma sitting at the dining table. When Jackson had told her that something important had come up for Gemma, she hadn’t imagined it involved Jackson’s boss. Gemma and Finnick stood.
“How did everything go with the doctor and with Walter?” Gemma asked.
“Wonderfully.” Amy gave her a one-armed hug and slipped Skye into Gemma’s outstretched hands. Then she turned to Finnick.
“It’s nice to see you again, Inspector,” Amy said. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“I’m here to offer Gemma a job,” Finnick said.
And the huge smile and slightly overwhelmed look on Gemma’s face told Amy that she’d said yes.
“I’ve finally got permission to launch a dedicated Cold Case Task Force,” Finnick went on. “I’m planning to pull in officers from across the province and around the country to tackle many of the cases that have gone unsolved for far too long. I’m hoping to not only bring justice to a lot of families who’ve been waiting for it, but also to help restore confidence in our commitment that no victim of crime will be forgotten.”
Amy turned to Gemma. “You’re going to become a cop?”
“No way,” Gemma said, with a laugh. “I’m very happy to be a private investigator. I’m going to join the task force as a civilian consultant and family liaison.”
“As Gemma rightly pointed out, there are a lot of people who have lost confidence in police,” Finnick said. “So, Gemma’s going to be an integral part of building trust, and I’m going to be partnering her with law enforcement officers on some cases. I’ve already got plans to talk to Blake and Caleb about the team, as well as to try roping in Jackson here. But I wanted to talk with Gemma first.”
Joy filled Amy’s heart as she looked from one shining face to the next. “That’s incredible.”
“Yeah, and an answer to a whole lot of prayers,” Gemma said. “But this does mean I’m going to need your help more than ever to keep the store running.”
“You can count on me,” Amy said. Already the small turquoise barn full of books and artwork was beginning to feel like home. Amy had been helping at the bookstore on and off over the past few months as she was able, and had designated a special space on the wall in the main room to be a roving display for local artists—including some incredibly talented children, teenagers, senior citizens, painters, sketch artists and photographers to display and sell their art. “We’ll work it all out, and it’ll be amazing.”
Thanksgiving filled her heart for the immeasurable prayers that had been answered in the past few months, and yet an odd aching in her heart told her that there was one thing still missing.
“Do you mind watching Skye for a moment?” she asked Gemma. “I need to talk to your brother about something.”
“Absolutely,” Gemma said. “No problem.”
Jackson leaned toward Amy. “Everything okay?” he asked softly.
“Not quite yet,” she said. “But it will be.”
Together they walked out the sliding glass door onto the back porch, down the steps and out toward the water until they reached the end of the dock. There they stood, side by side. A crisp autumn breeze cut through her jacket. She leaned her shoulder against Jackson and he put his arm around her.
“So, are you going to join the cold case team?” Amy asked.
Jackson grinned. “Probably, if it doesn’t get in the way of me being around here to help give you guys backup when you need it.”
Lord, I was so worried of wasting my own life that I just recklessly threw myself into every adventure I could find. I never even stopped to look and see if there was a path that You’d laid out for me or think about what I wanted for my life. But since my life was forced to slow down, I’ve finally been able to see what I want and where I want to be.
She glanced at the incredible man beside her.
“I’m ready,” she said.
Jackson turned. Confusion crossed his face, then amazement and finally hope.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” he asked.
She turned to face him.
“I’m ready to start the next chapter of my life,” she said, “and I don’t want to waste a single moment of it.” She took both of his hands in hers and looked up at the strong, handsome man she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she wanted to see for the rest of her life. “I wake up every morning thinking of your face and I fall asleep every night grateful that you are in my life. For once, I’m not leaping blindly. I love you, Jackson. I’ve known it deep in my heart every day for months. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“I love you too,” Jackson said. “I always have and I always will.”
Slowly, he pulled his hands from hers. Then he reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a small box and opened it. There, lay a simple gold and diamond engagement ring.
She laughed. “How long have you been carrying that around?”
“Months,” Jackson said. “Ever since the moment I knew that, more than anything else in the world, I wanted to marry you, Amy Scout. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“And you’ll be my wife?”
“Absolutely.”
He slid the ring onto her finger. She wound her hands around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.
“Are you sure about this?” Jackson asked.
“As confident as I am in the ground beneath our feet, the sky above us and the air we breathe.”
“Me too,” Jackson said.
He kissed her deeply. She kissed him back and knew with every part of her that she was where she was meant to be.
* * *
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Keep reading for an excerpt from Disappearance in Pinecraft by Lenora Worth.
Dear Reader,
I’ve mentioned my grandfather many times in these pages. He was my hero, my favorite storyteller and a part of every book I write. The “K” in my name is a tribute to him. It’s been almost twenty years since he passed away and I think of him every day.
My grandfather lived to be 81, which at the time I thought was a wonderfully long life to live. Then, a few weeks ago, his older brother passed away at the age of 103.
The family had three daughters and seven sons. My grandfather and four of his brothers made the local paper during the Second World War for all serving in the Canadian Armed Forces together. My childhood is filled to the brim with happy memories of my great-uncles and great-aunts, their children and grandchildren. Now, there’s only one son remaining, whose granddaughter is also an aspiring romance writer. But even though some of my grandfather’s siblings passed long before I was born, their names, faces and stories were also a huge part of my childhood.
Their lives are a reminder to me that we don’t always know the course our lives will take or the impact they’ll have.
I pray that God will help us all live our lives to the fullest and to be a blessing to all those our lives touch.
Thanks again for sharing this journey with me.
Maggie
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Disappearance in Pinecraft
by Lenora Worth
Chapter One
Someone was following her.
Adina Maas turned and saw the vehicle headed through the moonless night directly toward her, its lights so big and bright she held up a hand to shield her face.
Then she panicked, a deep fear racing through her mind, her hands clutching her backpack, its weight like a shield on her shoulders. She hurried away from the bus station in Sarasota, Florida. The Pinecraft Mennonite Tourist Church looked safe enough after she got off the bus and mingled with the crowd. But the other passengers greeted friends or family and went on their way, leaving Adina to wait.
No one had come to pick her up. Where was her sister, Blythe? She’d promised she’d be here. Surely the big vehicle creeping in a spidery way behind her wasn’t Adina’s ride to Blythe’s home. Blythe had told her not to take a ride from anyone else.
She turned. The truck still hovered nearby, its heavy motor purring like a lion about to pounce. But Blythe wasn’t in the truck. Just a man staring at Adina.
Even though she had the address, she had no idea where to start in finding her sister’s winter home. Confused, she kept walking and tried to join a crowd of Amish to blend in and ask for directions.
Did someone know she’d slipped away from Campton Creek, Pennsylvania? She had to find out why her sister wasn’t answering her letters or the messages she’d left when she visited the phone booth. Adina thought about the last message she’d gotten from Blythe: “Kumm to Pinecraft by bus. I’ll buy your ticket and be there to pick you up when you arrive at the church drop-off. Do not accept a ride from anyone else. Please kumm, sister.”
After Adina had confirmed the one-way ticket Blythe had booked, she’d gathered her meager earnings, then sneaked away from her aenti’s house in the middle of the night. Now she was alone in a strange place that was nothing like her home in Pennsylvania.
A town within a city, Blythe had called it. An Amish community unique from any other because it had become a resort of sorts over the decades. Amish vacationed here and some moved here. Blythe had told Adina she and her new husband would be back and forth between Pinecraft and Campton Creek.
You can spend a season with us once we’re established and I’ve learned how to manage two homes. I might need your help.
Now it seemed Blythe did need her help. Fear tickled at Adina’s neck. What if someone wanted to stop her from finding her sister? Or just stop her from getting away? Aenti said Adina shouldn’t read the romantic suspense novels from the library because they were making her imagine things, but what else did she have to occupy her time? And why didn’t Aenti Rita worry about Blythe the way Adina did?
You’re just lonely and maybe a little envious, don’t you think? Her aenti Rita had always accused her of being jealous of her older, more vivacious sister. So now her aenti was trying to marry her off in much the same way she’d convinced Blythe to marry.
She thought of Elman Barr, the man Aenti Rita wanted her to marry. A vile, hateful older man who’d told Adina exactly how things would be once they became man and wife. Her aenti had plans for both of them to move from their modest house to his big roomy one—with his mother, who was a tyrant like him.
Neh. Adina had taken a lot of flak from her resentful aenti since her parents had died after a horrible buggy accident where the Englisch driver had been drunk.
While she appreciated her aenti’s help, she would not become a maid expected to take care of three capable people who only complained about everything. Adina believed in being kind and considerate, but she did not want to have a loveless marriage with a man who appalled her. She had to find Blythe and see if she could stay with her for a while. Only, Blythe wasn’t here to get her. Something was wrong. She and her sister had always been close, but since Blythe had moved to Pinecraft for the winter, her letters had been few and far between. Blythe had sent her the one message and Adina left a message with her arrival time, hoping Blythe received it. Maybe she hadn’t.
Searching for a store or restaurant so she could sit down and find Blythe’s address in her notebook, Adina checked behind her again.
The big truck hovered behind her, its shadow cast out in a giant slant along the street. Then she heard the vehicle’s door slamming.
A heavyset man wearing a black shirt and dark jeans stalked toward her. When he got close, she noticed a strange tattoo on his right arm. Some sort of creepy creature. “Hey, are you Adina Maas?”
Adina didn’t want to answer. Blythe had told her not to accept a ride from anyone else. She kept walking, her sneakers squeaking on the sidewalk.
“Blythe sent us,” the man called.
