Page 55 of Christmas Homecoming Secrets
“I sent her home.”
“What? Why?”
One of Heather’s shoulders lifted then fell. “Because I just can’t stand being around her pity. And the looks she gives me.” She shivered. “I can’t even really describe it. A cross between how-could-you-let-this-happen and you’re-so-pitiful-because-you-lost-another-one. It was really getting to me.”
“It’s not pity, Heather, it’s compassion,” Jade said. “People just want tohelpyou.”
“Help me? Help me?” Her voice rose with each word. “There is no help for me! Frank’s gone and there’s nothing I can do about it! Nothing anyone can do about it!” She dropped her face into her palms, and Bryce rose to his feet and went to kneel in front of her.
“Heather,” he said softly, “you’re right. Frank’s gone. And you’re right, there’s nothing any of us can do to make it hurt less—except maybe find his killer. Maybe. It might not take away the pain, but at least we can sleep knowing we did that. We can do that for him—and us. Get him the justice he deserves.”
She waved a hand. “I don’t even care. What difference does it make if we find who did it? It’s not going to bring him back.” A sob slipped from her. “I just want him to come back.”
Bryce pulled her to him while Jade stood and paced the length of the den. After several minutes had passed, Heather’s sobs ceased, and she drew back to palm her sunken eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”
“It’s okay,” Bryce said, “I think you needed to.”
“Why are you guys here? What do you think you can find that I haven’t?”
“Who knows?” Jade said. “We have to try.”
Heather waved a hand. “Have at it. His office is down the hall on the left. Feel free to start there. I’ve looked through a bunch of stuff and found nothing but some random notes about this story he was investigating.”
“Notes?”
“Yes, but they don’t make much sense to me.”
Bryce raised a brow. “Show us.”
In Frank’s office, Heather stepped to his desk. “This is exactly how he left it the day he disappeared. There’s nothing on it that means anything to me.”
Jade pulled on a pair of gloves, walked over to the desk, and began going through it. Bryce watched her work, impressed with her professional demeanor. It had to be hard to portray it, but she did so with a tight jaw. Finally, she stepped back, notes in hand. “I don’t think these will tell us much, but we’ll take them with us to study.” Hands on her hips, she looked around, eyes landing on the end table next to his bed. “That looks like a file cabinet.”
Heather frowned. “Maybe. I didn’t look there, but I think Finn and Trent did.” Finn Bennett and Trent Young. Two other detectives they worked with on a regular basis.
Jade pulled open the drawer. “Files—which one would expect to find in a file cabinet.” She thumbed through them while Bryce and Heather watched. Then she removed them one by one and set them on the bed. “Aha,” she breathed.
“What?” Bryce moved closer, and Heather leaned in.
Jade pulled a file from the back of the drawer and stood. “This.” She walked into the kitchen and set it on the table, then opened it. “Pictures.”
“Of what?” Heather asked.
“People. Cops. Places with cops.” She passed each picture to them. Bryce studied the first one with Heather looking over his shoulder. “I know this place,” he said. “It’s an old warehouse not too far from the mill where Frank was found. Looks like some kind of drug buy going down.”
“Yeah…and look who’s in the background behind those two.”
Heather nodded. “Dylan Fitzgerald.”
* * *
Jade narrowed her eyes. “Dylan? He wouldn’t.”
“Apparently he would,” Heather said. “Looks like he found out that Frank was on to him.”
“And he had to shut him up,” Jade whispered. She shook her head. “We need to bring him in ASAP, but…if he’s involved, who else might be?” She pulled her phone from her pocket and hesitated, trying to figure out the best move to make next.
“I can’t believe this,” Heather said. “This was worth risking his life for? Risking our future for? Why wouldn’t he tell me?” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you think he suspected me, too? Unbelievable.” She sniffed and swiped a stray tear.
