Page 19 of His Relentless Mate

As he walked away from the pub, Trace couldn’t shake the feeling that his father was right—there were some things that were better left buried. But he also knew that he couldn’t walk away from the investigation, not now. He had a duty to the town, to the victim’s family, and to himself to see this through, no matter the cost.

When Trace returned to the police station, he found Annika in the break room, a cup of coffee in her hand as she stared thoughtfully out the window. She looked up as he entered, her expression curious but concerned.

“Everything okay with your dad?” she asked.

Trace nodded, though his mind was still reeling from the conversation. “Yeah, we talked. There were… things I didn’t know. But I’m glad we spoke.”

Annika gave him a sympathetic smile, but before she could say more, Dr. Trevor Billingsly entered the room, a folder clutched in his hands and a serious look on his face.

“I’ve been going over the autopsy reports again,” Dr. Billingsly said without preamble, his tone grim. “And I found something that doesn’t add up.” He glanced around nervously. “We might want to discuss this in your office, Chief.”

Trace felt a knot of dread tighten in his stomach as he took the folder from the doctor, walking down the hall, flipping it open. Inside were copies of the original autopsy report for Carl Hansen, along with a new report that Dr. Billingsly had compiled after reexamining the evidence.

Once inside his office, Annika asked, “What did you find?” leaning in to read over Trace’s shoulder.

“The original autopsy report was tampered with,” Dr. Billingsly said, his voice tense. “There are discrepancies between the initial findings and the actual evidence. The cause of death was altered to make it look like a straightforward murder, but the real cause… it’s more complicated. And the only way this could have happened is if someone within the department was involved.”

Trace’s heart sank as he absorbed the doctor’s words. A cover-up within the police department? The implications were staggering, and the realization that someone on his own team might be involved sent a wave of anger and betrayal through him.

“We need to figure out who did this,” Trace said, his voice cold and determined. “And we need to do it quietly. If there’s a mole in the department, we can’t let them know we’re onto them.”

Annika nodded, her expression hardening as the weight of their new discovery settled over her. “Agreed. We need to be careful. If they’ve gone to these lengths to cover up the truth, they won’t hesitate to do whatever it takes to keep it buried.”

The three of them stood there in silence, the enormity of their task pressing down on them. The investigation had just taken a dark turn, and the stakes were higher than ever. But Trace knew one thing for certain—he and Annika were in this together, and they wouldn’t stop until they uncovered the truth, no matter how deep the conspiracy ran.

Chapter Ten

Annika

Annika sat at her desk in the dimly lit office, the faint hum of the overhead lights the only sound breaking the heavy silence. The files in front of her were spread out in a chaotic mess, papers overlapping in a haphazard collage of evidence, reports, and notes she had taken over the past few days. The discovery of tampered autopsy results had shaken her to her core, and now, as she sifted through the documents, a growing sense of dread gnawed at her.

She was searching for something—anything—that could make sense of the tangled web they had uncovered. The connection between Carl Hansen’s murder and the series of unsolved cases along the West Coast had brought them closer to the truth, but it had also opened up new questions, ones that hinted at a deeper, more insidious conspiracy.

Annika’s fingers brushed against the edge of an old, leather-bound ledger that had been hidden away in the victim’s personal effects. It had been overlooked in the initial investigation, but something about it had caught her eye. Now, as she opened it, the faded ink and brittle pages told a story she hadn’t been prepared for.

The ledger was filled with transactions—names, dates, amounts—all meticulously recorded. At first glance, it seemed like an ordinary business ledger, but as she delved deeper, she realized that it was a record of illegal activities, money laundering, and bribes. Her heart pounded as she recognized some of the names—local business owners, politicians, people she had grown up around in Kodiak.

But it wasn’t until she reached the final pages that her world was truly upended. There, written in the same neat, precise handwriting, was a name that made her blood run cold.

Carol Connelly.

Annika’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at her mother’s name, the letters blurring before her eyes. She blinked, hoping she was seeing things, that it was some terrible mistake. But no matter how many times she read it, the name remained, etched into the page like a scar.

Her mother had been involved in Carl Hansen’s illegal activities. The thought was almost too much to bear. Annika’s hands trembled as she flipped through the rest of the ledger, finding more entries that connected her mother to Hansen’s shady dealings. Payments… meetings… all documented in a way that left little doubt about her involvement.

The realization hit her like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from her lungs. Her mother, the woman she had loved and trusted her entire life, had been a part of something dark and dangerous. The same woman who had raised her, who had grieved with her after Daniel’s death, had been hiding this terrible secret.

Torn between her duty as a detective and her love for her mother, Annika felt as if the ground had shifted beneath her feet. How could she reconcile the woman she had known with the person this ledger suggested? And what did this mean for her investigation? For her brother’s death?

She had to know the truth.

With the ledger clutched tightly in her hand, Annika stood up, her mind racing as she made her way out of the office and toward the library where her mother worked. The drive there was a blur, her thoughts consumed by the weight of what she had found. She knew this confrontation was going to be difficult, possibly even devastating, but she couldn’t avoid it any longer. She needed answers, and only her mother could provide them.

When Annika arrived at the library, the building was quiet, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows through the windows. Her mother was behind the circulation desk, her gray hair neatly pinned back as she scanned a stack of returned books. She looked up as Annika approached, her smile faltering when she saw the expression on her daughter’s face.

“Annika, what’s wrong?” Carol asked, concern lacing her voice as she set the books aside.

Annika didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she placed the ledger on the desk between them, the leather cover creaking slightly as it settled. Carol’s eyes widened as she recognized the book, her face paling as she reached out to touch it.

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