Эротические рассказы

Cold Case Christmas. Jessica R. PatchЧитать онлайн книгу.

Cold Case Christmas - Jessica R. Patch


Скачать книгу

      Rush agreed.

      “We need to call Joshua,” Troy said. “He’ll want to know we’ve discovered his wife.” Joshua Livingstone owned the biggest resort and lodge in Splendor Pines. A powerful man, but one of the kindest Rush had ever known. He’d handled the many rumors about his wife with poised grace. Which—if Rush hadn’t witnessed Marilyn kissing a man in a Phantom of the Opera mask that night of the annual Christmas Eve Masquerade Ball—he wouldn’t have believed. What kind of man wouldn’t have a meltdown over his wife cheating on him? Numerous times—if all the tales were true.

      Rush adjusted his wool collar; icy beads had steadily slicked down his neck, but he didn’t mind. His whole body was flushed. “I guess Nora will come home.” Granted she came every Christmas Day, but only for the day. Rush had to share some of the blame for that.

      “You ready?” Troy asked.

      Was anyone ready to see the person they thought they’d have the rest of their lives with? “I’ve moved on, Troy.”

      “And your last date was?”

      “Six months ago with Brandy Walker.” She was sweet. Lived in the neighboring town. They met at a church singles social. But he hadn’t felt a spark. Would he ever? Would he always be a lonely bachelor living in a house too big for one man on the side of the mountain?

      Troy grunted. “I know Nora was a pretty little thing. Still is. But at some point, you’re going to have to stop comparing other women to her. Who’s to say you’d even have a thing in common with her anymore?”

      The downside to father figures. They felt the license to say whatever and whenever. And however. “I’m over Nora Livingstone. Not finding the right woman has nothing to do with her and everything with God’s timing.” Which was slower than Grandma Buchanan’s homemade sorghum. “Sometimes I wish you weren’t my mentor,” he deadpanned.

      “Sometimes I do too.” Troy smirked. “I’ll call Joshua and give him the news. Merry early Christmas.”

      “And a happy New Year to no one,” Rush muttered.

      Troy shook his head and climbed back inside his vehicle to make the call, leaving Rush to the wreckage. The body. Why would you leave Nora and Hailey, Marilyn? She may not have been faithful to her husband, but she’d doted on her girls.

      New gawkers arrived with local media.

      “Is that Marilyn’s car?” a few asked.

      “Poor Joshua.”

      “He’s probably relieved to be rid of that...”

      Insults, opinions and gossipy speculation rode on the wind, slapping Rush’s face with frozen fingers. Gossip murdered the spirit. He’d witnessed it happen to his own father. Over ten years now and he’d never returned to pastoring or part-time law enforcement no matter how hard Rush and the rest of his family prayed. Dad had chosen to hide from everything and everyone.

      Rush turned on the crowd. “Someone is dead. This person had family and friends, so show a little respect, please, or I’ll have every last one of you dragged from here. Am I clear?”

      The onlookers quieted. For now.

      Before long a black Escalade pulled up next to Rush’s Bronco. Joshua Livingstone—larger than life in his long, black fancy coat—stepped out. Jet-black hair and intense eyes, the same color, focused on Rush. “Troy called.” His voice was baritone but soft. Rush recognized the sorrow, the need for answers. Hailey, Nora’s younger sister, sat in the passenger side, tears rolling down her cheeks—she looked so much like her sister, only her hair was a darker blond and she had Joshua’s eyes. She’d been through a lot lately with her separation from her husband. She and their son lived at the main house with Joshua. Rush hated to be the bearer of bad news, but now they might be able to find peace.

      “All we know is the car is registered to you, and I’m sure you can tell it’s Marilyn’s. The...remains need a DNA test but I’m pretty sure they’ll come back as your wife’s. I’m so sorry for your loss, Joshua.”

      Troy returned and shook hands with Joshua.

      Joshua stared at the car. “Any idea what happened?”

      Rush sighed and glanced at the car that had once been shiny and sleek. “You know what the weather is like up here this time of year. Seems a tragic accident.”

      Joshua nodded. “When can we have her for a proper burial?”

      “We need to officially confirm it’s her. After that, I see no reason why you can’t have her back.”

      They stood silently staring for several long minutes until another set of headlights flashed behind Joshua’s Escalade. Rush squinted, blinded by the lights. The driver didn’t bother to kill them before the door to the car opened and a woman’s figure stepped out, slipped under the crime scene tape and stomped toward him.

      “Hey,” he shouted. “You can’t be out here.”

      “The cumulus clouds I can’t!” she hollered back.

      Rush wouldn’t freeze from the nearly single-digit temps. But his heart froze at the sound of Nora’s voice. Sassy. Southern—though a little less country in it than he remembered, but then she’d moved to Knoxville and taken a prestigious job as Chief Meteorologist. He watched her every night at six online. Didn’t much care about the weather unless it affected his townspeople. He watched to see her sunshiny smile with a chance of twinkle in her blue-green eyes.

      Right now, she was all storm clouds and thunder. But even so she was a sight to behold, dressed in a soft but thick coat, gray beanie and knee-high leather boots. He couldn’t seem to find his voice.

      Nora marched up to him, as if the weather didn’t bother her in the least. She nearly reached his chin flat-footed. The smell of cherry blossoms and vanilla filled his nose, and the familiar scent brought a wave of memories. He’d been crazy about her since third grade. But he’d gained the courage in eighth grade and asked her to a dance. They’d dated all through high school.

      “Don’t just stare at me, Rush. Answer me.”

      What had she said? “Repeat the question, please.”

      “Is it my mom?” She looked to her father, but he stood stoically.

      Rush shook out of the memories. “DNA will confirm it, but I think it’s safe to say it’s your mama.” Did he hug her? He wasn’t sure what to do. “I’m sorry, Nora Beth,” he murmured.

      Nora’s chin quivered and for a millisecond Rush thought she was going to fall into him. And that’d be okay. But she turned at the last second and ran into her father’s arms. Looked to him for solace.

      Joshua kissed Nora’s cheek. “It’s going to be okay, honey.” She shuddered against her father’s chest, then gained resolve and faced Rush.

      “Do you know what happened?” she asked lightly.

      “We don’t, but it’s dark and we haven’t had a chance to thoroughly examine everything.”

      “You will, won’t you, Rush?” She sniffed and wiped a tear.

      Rush closed the gap between them and grasped her gloved hand with his. She never wanted to believe Marilyn had abandoned her family. But, here in the lake leading out of town, it appeared that was exactly what she’d done. Rush didn’t know how to spare her that pain. He’d tried to spare her then by never revealing what he saw that night with Marilyn and the Phantom. But now? The evidence was right in front of her eyes.

      Troy gripped her shoulder in a fatherly manner. “The roads were bad that night. Probably hit a patch of black ice. The only thing left is to confirm it is your mama and put her and this to rest, hon.”

      Nora gaped and freed her hand from Rush’s. “Unacceptable.”

      “Nora,”


Скачать книгу
Яндекс.Метрика