Page 28 of Frozen Secrets

Adrial brought his attention back to the man seated across from him, heat flaring through his thigh and shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I know you. This case wouldn’t be hitting you this hard unless there was something you’re keeping to yourself.” The forensic investigator had gotten so good at getting information out of people because he intuitively saw what others didn’t. Could read them as though their entire lives were written on their faces and in their body language. In the words they said and didn’t say, and Adrial had been a fool to think he could get away with the weight on his shoulders. “Adrial, I’ve seen you at your worst. There’s nothing you can say to me that will make me walk away. I told you that two years ago, and it still holds today.” His gaze slipped to the other file on his desk. “Is this about Katie?”

Yes. No. Hell, he didn’t know. He scrubbed a hand down his face. Exhaustion was winning out. Soon, he’d crash, and it’d take a miracle to pick him up off the ground. “Winnie told me she loves me.”

He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed to hear those words from her mouth, to know that they’d moved past him leaving, that maybe she’d forgiven him, but he didn’t deserve her love. Staring at Katie’s file had only solidified that belief. He’d loved his wife, but it hadn’t been enough to keep her safe. To find the person who’d killed her.

Baxter leaned back in his chair. “And you have a problem with that because you’re married to this tragic version of yourself you’ve decided doesn’t deserve to move on?”

“I started this company with one goal in mind—to provide closure for our clients. How the hell am I supposed to do that if I can’t even get closure for myself?” He grabbed for Katie’s well-worn file. “And even if I somehow convince myself I’m allowed to move on, how do I let Katie go?”

“Do you love Winnie?” Baxter leaned forward in his chair, locking his eyes on Adrial as though trying to speak to a child.

He tossed the file onto the desk. “It’s not about whether I love her or not—”

“Do you love her?” The forensic investigator wasn’t letting this go. “Yes or no? Don’t think about Katie or what you believe I want to hear. Don’t think about how Winnie might feel. What are your instincts telling you?”

The tightness Adrial had carried since coming back to the office eased. “Yes.” It was the easiest response in the world. He’d always loved her, and while he’d also loved Katie and their life together, loving Winnie had shaped him since the day he’d pulled her out of the damn locker. She was part of him, his very DNA, his breath, his heartbeat and neural pathways.

“You know I’d give anything in the world to see Lainey again.” Baxter shifted his weight between the elbows planted on his knees. His gaze was soft whenever he spoke of the wife who’d gone missing right here in Black Hollow a year and a half ago. “I can’t tell you it’s going to be easy to fix things with Winnie or that you’re going to solve Katie’s case one day. What I know is living without the other half of your heart is a death sentence, and you’ve been suffering for a decade. Winnie told you she loves you? Hang on to that, boss. Get out of your own damn way and hang on to that with everything you have.”

Adrial didn’t know what to say to that, what to think. Other than he’d felt more in the past five days with Winnie than he had since leaving Black Hollow. Because of her. And, hell, he loved her. Was in love with her.

A quick knock on his office door preceded the agency’s forensic anthropologist, Ruby Swanson, who tossed a thick file on his desk. “The husband is still alive. The remains we recovered aren’t him. He faked his death and took off to heaven knows where. You’re welcome.” She cocked her head to the side. “Ooh, who’s the midlife housewife?”

Adrial lifted his hands and searched his desk. “What are you talking about?”

“The body on the table.” Grabbing for the Lila Mercer autopsy photo, Ruby let that dreamy look on her face whenever confronted with remains take over. It was creepy as hell but she was the best forensic anthropologist in the country, so he’d let her google dead people all day if it got the agency results. “Look at how straight that Y incision is. Whoever’s work this is did a very good job. Can I meet them?”

Baxter shoved to his feet. “What do you mean ‘midlife’?”

“These are the remains of a middle-aged woman.” She pointed at the photos. “See? You can see all the wear on her joints where the animals fed.”

“Midlife?” Surely, he hadn’t heard her right. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.” Ruby handed back the file. She wasn’t the kind to explain herself unless absolutely necessary. “Why?”

“Because Lila Mercer was twenty years old when she was killed.” Adrial looked at Baxter as he tossed the file onto the desk and grabbed for his coat. “If you’re right, that means investigators misidentified the damn body.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

She couldn’t feel her fingers.

Winnie tried raising her head to get a better idea of where she’d ended up, but all she saw was endless white. Ice. Snow. Clouds. She curled her fingers into her palms, chasing some semblance of heat, and craned her chin up. Wind blew a thin layer of snow directly into her face and shocked her into full consciousness. “No.”

She wasn’t here. This wasn’t real. Pressing onto all fours, she caught the sound of clinking metal. Her spine protested as she curved to see thick chains secured around her ankles, both sections attached to cinder blocks positioned about three feet away. And padlocked to keep her from getting free.

“It’s just a nightmare. You’re going to wake up. This isn’t happening.” A sob burned at the back of her throat as her situation sank in. It wasn’t hard to fill in the blanks. Lila Mercer’s body had been disposed of in this same manner, and the killer—the woman who looked just like her—was going to send her out the same way. Pieces of memory puzzled into place as she swiped at her face. The attic. The evidence. The gun. It hadn’t been loaded, and the killer… Pain shot through her right eye and stole her vision for a few seconds. The killer had hit her. Hard enough to knock her unconscious, but that didn’t explain how a woman her size had managed to get Winnie out here.

Winnie clamped her teeth together to control the shivers wracking through her. In vain. She’d been taken straight from her father’s house, dressed in nothing but her jeans and a thin blouse she’d put on after Adrial had left. Her feet were bare without any give in the chain, her hands, neck and face exposed to the elements. Palms slipping on the glossy wet surface of ice, she gauged the distance between her and the shore and tried to stand. Too far. Coupled with the cinder blocks, there was no way she’d make it across the ice.

“You really can’t fault Arthur for his plan.” The voice barely raised above the whistle of wind cutting through the pines, and Winnie turned to confront the killer positioned in her blind spot. Still dressed in head-to-toe black, she’d forgone the mask. Guess there wasn’t any point now. Winnie wasn’t leaving here alive. “It has its merits. The chains, the blocks. They’ll take you straight to the bottom of lake, but Arthur made a mistake when he got rid of my mom’s body. He didn’t take her out far enough. I don’t think we’ll have that same problem here.”

“You’re Lila Mercer’s daughter? Is that what this is all about? You figured out my dad had something to do with her death, and you’ve decided to make his daughter pay the price? He’s dead. You killed him! Isn’t that punishment enough?”

“No!” The shout bounced off the surrounding mountains, and a faraway groan answered in reply. Hard lines etched deep into her attacker’s face. “It’ll never be enough because you knew what he’d done. You knew he’d taken that evidence and made sure no one would solve her case. You let him erase her. You pretended she didn’t exist and stood by doing nothing while my entire life fell apart.” Shoulder-length blond hair streaked across the killer’s freckled face as she sauntered over the ice as though it couldn’t pull her under with one wrong step. “But you have it all wrong. I’m not Lila Mercer’s daughter. Want to take another guess?”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t. I swear. I only wanted to work the case to do something good for my dad, but I never knew…” Winnie backed away at her approach, not wanting to risk too much weight in one area. She spread her hands out to evenly distribute what she could, but there was no stopping what was coming. No matter how hard she tried, there would be no happy ending here. “You said… You said ‘our dad.’ Back in the attic. That’s why you look like me. Arthur was your dad.”