Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Tactical police officer Jina Wheeler threw her gym bag over her shoulder and walked into the crisp autumn night air. There was nothing better than a hard-core, sweaty round of kickboxing to end the day.

When Jina had first joined the mixed martial arts gym four months ago, she’d been irritated when the guys had instantly hit on her. When flat refusals didn’t work, she’d invited them to a sparring match. After putting several of them down on the mat in record time, they’d backed off. Now they let her work out in peace.

There was one guy, Cole, whom she saw frequently but who had never once approached her. She only knew his name because Mike, the gym owner, called out to him one day. The two guys were apparently on a first-name basis. Cole was probably married, yet she’d caught him watching her a time or two. Looking wasn’t against the law, and maybe he was just curious about how she’d come out on top over the guys.

It didn’t matter; she wasn’t interested. Okay, she was a little curious about him, but she had no intention of acting on it. Her experience with men wasn’t good. During high school, she’d dealt with a creepy stalker, then in college, she’d been attacked and sexually assaulted. On top of that, she and Jaxon Palmer had been best friends in high school, but he’d gotten upset when she’d refused to relocate to Nashville with him. She hadn’t understood why Jaxon had thought she’d leave her sister behind in the first place, and after she’d flat-out refused, she’d never heard from him again.

Proof that men weren’t worth the time or energy it took to find a good one in a sea of losers. Not to mention, most of the guys she met were put off by a woman who could fight and shoot better than they could.

A rueful smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she headed toward her car, a boxy black Jeep Wrangler. The early September weather was nice enough that she still had the top off, making it easy to toss her gym bag into the back seat. Just because half the members of her tactical team were settling down and getting married didn’t mean she planned to follow suit. She was fine on her own 99 percent of the time. She chose to ignore the other 1 percent that she found herself envious of her younger sister Shelly’s life.

From somewhere behind her, a car door slammed. She glanced back over her shoulder, cop instincts going on full alert, then relaxed when she saw a pair of headlights flash on. Just someone else leaving the gym.

As she wrenched open her driver’s side door, she caught a glimpse of a shadow moving along the side of the building. A man? Adrenaline still zipped through her veins from her strenuous workout, and she quickly reached across the front seat to pull her service weapon from the glove box.

A nanosecond later, the sharp crack of gunfire echoed through the night. There was no metallic ping of her vehicle being hit. She ducked, her fingers closing around the handle of her gun. In a smooth movement, she held the weapon in a two-handed grip while crouching alongside her Jeep, wishing she had the top on for added cover.

Who was the perp trying to hit? It couldn’t be her, unless the guy had terrible aim.

A second crack of gunfire ripped through the night. Okay, now she was getting mad. This guy was going to hurt some innocent bystander if he didn’t knock it off.

“Police!” she shouted. “Drop your weapon!”

Listening intently, she heard nothing but silence. Hopefully, Duncan, the new second-shift gym manager, would call 911. She peeked up from behind the Jeep, scanning the area next to the building.

Spying a flash of movement, she darted out from behind the car and ran across the parking lot. Pounding footsteps indicated the perp was running away.

No way would she let him escape!

“Stop! Police!” she shouted again, putting on a burst of speed. When she reached the corner of the building, though, she paused, as there was no one in sight.

The gym was located on a mostly empty stretch of road, with a long, wooded area a few yards behind it. Rushing into the possible line of fire wouldn’t be smart, but she really wanted to get this guy.

“Jina? Are you okay?”

She froze at the unknown male voice behind her. Then she whirled to face the new threat. Two perps working together? Wait, that didn’t make sense as this one had called her by name.

“Duncan?” She tried to see the bearded man through the darkness. “Is that you? ”

“No, my name is Cole. I heard gunfire. I’m hoping Duncan is inside calling the police.”

Cole knew her name? For some reason that knocked her off balance. “I’m fine, except for the fact that the shooter is getting away.”

“Let’s split up and see if we can grab him.” Cole came up to stand beside her, and she noticed he was also carrying a gun. “You head right; I’ll go left.”

“Got it.” She didn’t need to be asked twice. Darting across to the woods to the right, she heard Cole doing the same to the left. His movements and actions screamed cop, which shouldn’t have been surprising.

Several cops hung out at Mike’s MMA gym. Her included.

The woods stretched along the length of the building but weren’t deep. She quickly found herself in another parking lot of what appeared to be a strip mall of small businesses. Glancing to her left, she noticed Cole had come out of the woods several yards away as well.

Without saying anything, he waved his gun toward the strip mall. She nodded and headed that way, staying to the right. Upon reaching the back side of the mall, she narrowed her gaze at a parked dark SUV. The lights abruptly blinded her, and the driver hit the gas, going from zero to thirty miles per hour before she could blink.

She wanted to fire at the vehicle but couldn’t be certain the driver was their shooter. Until he continued heading straight for her. She was forced to dive to the ground, tucking and rolling to avoid behind hit. Lifting her head, she tried to get the license plate, but the vehicle was already gone.

Swallowing a silent curse—she’d given up swearing since joining Rhy’s tactical team—she pushed herself up to her feet just as Cole rushed toward her. “What happened?”

“He tried to run me over.” She couldn’t help feeling disgusted with her poor performance. “I should have fired first and asked questions later.”

“No, you did the right thing,” Cole assured her. “Firing at the wrong perp would have required a ton of paperwork.”

She couldn’t hold back a bark of laughter, because he was right. If she had been wrong about the driver, she would have been stuck in a local police station for the rest of the night. “Yeah, well, I must be losing it because I didn’t get the license plate either.”

“I don’t think there was one, or it was covered in some way.” He raked a gaze over her. “You’re not hit?”

“No. And I don’t think my Jeep was struck either.” She turned to head back through the trees to the gym parking lot. It seemed to be taking the local police a while to respond. “Guess it’s a good thing the guy is a lousy shot.”

“Yeah.” Cole fell into step beside her. “Any idea about who wants to hurt you?”

She shot him a sidelong glance. “As a cop, I make a lot of enemies. But no one specific comes to mind.”

“You work out of the Seventh Precinct in Milwaukee, right?” Cole asked.

She narrowed her gaze. “And you know that how?”

“Mike mentioned it,” Cole said with a shrug. “I’m a detective with the Peabody Police Department.”

“I figured you were a cop.” She didn’t like hearing he’d asked around about her. But she wasn’t a scared teenager trying to get rid of a creepy stalker or college student fighting off a rapist anymore. She could handle herself in a way she hadn’t been able to before.

When they reached the gym building, the wail of sirens indicated the cops were finally on the way. Since she couldn’t leave, she pulled out her phone and used the flashlight app to scan for shell casings. Cole did the same thing, spreading out from where she was working.

“Found one,” she said, crouching down to look at it more closely. “Probably a .38.”

“Good eye. And here’s the second one.” Cole gestured to the casing just three feet away. “Same caliber. Looks like he was moving back when he fired the second time.”

“Or he moved closer after missing the first shot.” She glanced at him. “Either way, he was pretty far off the mark.”

“That’s a blessing,” Cole said with a nod. “I’m glad no one was hurt.” Then he straightened as two uniformed Brookland police officers came toward them. He stepped forward to introduce himself. “I’m Peabody Detective Cole Roberts, and this is Officer Jina . . .” He arched a brow. She was glad Mike hadn’t given out her last name.

“Officer Jina Wheeler with MPD.” Gesturing toward the ground, she added, “We found two shell casings from the location from where the perp fired at me.”

“Maybe you should start at the beginning,” the older of the two men said. “Who was shooting at you?”

“I have no idea. Maybe a disgruntled perp I put away at some point.” She went on to give her statement as succinctly as possible. To his credit, Cole didn’t interrupt. After she’d finished, he added his version of the incident.

“This guy shot at you twice, then tried to run you over?” the younger officer asked.

“Yep. I wish I could give you a plate number, but all I know for sure is that the vehicle was a dark-colored SUV. Not a Jeep, the front grill was different, but maybe a Honda or a Hyundai?” She glanced at Cole for his input.

He nodded. “Pretty sure it was a Honda. The license plate was either missing or covered.”

The cops asked several more questions before letting them go. Jina headed toward her Jeep, then abruptly stopped as Cole joined her.

“Did you need something?” The statement came out more accusatory than she’d intended.

“No. I was just walking you to your car,” he answered evenly.

“I’m a cop, Cole.” She scowled. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Wasn’t volunteering for that role. Just making sure there are no other surprises lurking nearby.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Thanks for the assist, but I have it from here.”

He held her gaze for a long moment. The fact that she remembered his eyes were a dark chocolate brown annoyed her. “Suit yourself.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she always did suit herself rather than catering to the whims of others, but he chose that moment to turn to head back to the other side of the parking lot.

Let him go , she told herself sternly. This little interlude was nothing special. He’d backed her up tonight the same way any other cop would have done. The way she would have done if the situation had been reversed.

She took a moment to double-check that no one was hidden inside the Jeep before sliding in behind the wheel. Tucking her weapon under her thigh, she started the engine and drove out of the parking lot. The wind pulled strands of her long blond hair from its ponytail, and she tucked them behind her ear as she covered the distance to her upper-level flat located five miles away.

The brown and tan two-story brick building was owned by Mr. Glen Gleason, an elderly widower. After a few months of watching him struggle, she’d taken over doing the yard work and snow removal without accepting a break on her rent. As a result, Mr. Gleason hadn’t raised her monthly payments in over two years. The arrangement suited her just fine.

Still wondering about the shooter, she pulled into the garage. Mr. Glen parked on the other side but didn’t do a lot of driving except to church and the grocery store. She tucked her weapon into her waistband, grabbed her gym bag, and made her way toward the side entrance that led to her upper-level flat. Mr. Gleason was hard of hearing, so she didn’t worry about waking him up at this late hour of midnight.

But when a pair of headlights pierced the darkness out front, she paused, reaching for her gun. If this guy had shown up for round two, she’d enjoy taking him down.

Letting her bag slip to the ground, she darted toward the street. The vehicle abruptly veered away from the curb, tires squealing.

She stared after the disappearing car, noting again the absence of a license plate. Despite her confidence in her abilities, a chill snaked down her spine.

It wasn’t good that this guy knew where she lived. The memory of how she’d shot and mostly missed her stalker nearly twelve years ago flashed in her mind.

No way would she miss this time. If this guy showed up again, she’d drop him where he stood without a smidgen of remorse.

Chasing a shooter had not been how Cole had planned to end his night, but he had to admit that meeting Jina was interesting.

He drove to her place, mentally preparing himself for her anger. He’d planned to interview her after their workout, but the shooter had put a dent in that plan. Chatting with her while cops swarmed the area hadn’t been an option either. His only choice was to head out to her place so they could speak in private.

He knew her address and her last name, even though he’d pretended otherwise. He hadn’t wanted to open that can of worms in front of the other officers.

She hadn’t reacted to his being a Peabody Detective, but maybe she’d learned of his vocation through Mike. The same way he’d learned about her. At least initially.

Before the cold case had reared its ugly head. Literally.

He pulled into the driveway of the two-story brick building, frowning when he noticed Jina was still outside, holding her weapon in hand. Concerned, he quickly pushed out of the driver’s side door. “What’s wrong? Did the perp return?”

“What are you doing here?” she asked with a scowl. “How did you find me?”

“Why are you standing there holding your piece?” he countered. “I want to know if that guy showed up again.”

She stared at him with deep suspicion for a long minute before gesturing to the street. “Maybe. I noticed a parked car at the curb. The lights flicked on, then the driver peeled away less than a minute before you showed up.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. “And you have no idea who might be holding a grudge against you?”

“No. Do you remember every perp you put behind bars? That’s an impossible task.” Her eyes narrowed. “Now it’s your turn. Why are you here?”

He stifled a sigh, realizing she had a right to be concerned. “I wanted to talk to you without an audience.”

She arched a brow. “Okay, talk.”

It wasn’t easy to switch gears, but he had a job to do. And he wasn’t about to let a beautiful face distract him. “I’m a detective with the Peabody Police Department.”

“Yeah. You mentioned that.” She stood her ground, not giving an inch. Obviously, she had no intention of inviting him in for a soft drink.

“I’m working a cold case.” He watched her closely, but her expression didn’t change. “You’re aware of the new subdivision going in on the far west side of the Peabody? Not far from Surrey?”

A flicker of surprise crossed her features, but it was gone in an instant. “No, I wasn’t aware of that. I thought Peabody had been subdivided to death.”

Interesting turn of phrase , he thought with a cynical smile. Death in the subdivision was exactly why he was here. “Yes, it mostly has. This is the last ten acres of land that’s being developed. You know the area, don’t you?” He paused, waiting for her to acknowledge that, but she simply stared at him without saying a word. He should have expected her to be well-versed about how to respond during a police interview. “Our records show that the Wheeler family owned a sixty-acre farm in Peabody. Elias and Marsha Wheeler were your parents, right?”

“Yes, that’s true,” she answered without hesitation.

“You and your sister, Shelly, grew up there. Until your parents sold the property. The house was bulldozed, and the land was sold off in ten-acre parcels. ”

She shrugged. “Yes. Shelly and I grew up there, and my parents did sell the farm after my dad’s heart attack. He died two years later, so it turned out to be a good thing for my mom. I’m not sure why that matters now. We haven’t lived on the farm in years.”

“I’m aware your sister lives in Madison with her husband,” he said with a nod. “I plan to talk with her too.”

Anger flashed in her eyes. “Why? Shelly is pregnant; there’s no reason to upset her. I just told you we haven’t lived there in years.”

“Eleven years give or take a few months,” he agreed. “Why would talking to me upset your sister?”

She flushed. “I’m a cop, and you’re a detective. I assume some crime has taken place that has brought you here, dredging up the past. Shelly had a miscarriage last year and is in the early months of her pregnancy. I don’t want her to be overly upset.”

Was there more to her concern? “I promise I won’t stress your sister.”

She looked like she wanted to argue but didn’t.

After another pause, he decided they’d tap-danced enough. “I need to know if you know anything about a male body being buried on the farm.”

Something subtle flashed in her eyes. Alarm? Fear? Worry? “Are you serious? I hadn’t heard anything about that.”

“You’re sure?”

She lifted her chin. “Yes. I don’t know anything about a dead body. Sounds like you believe this man was the victim of a crime.” When he nodded without expounding on why that was, she asked, “Do you know anything else about the victim? How old he was? How long he’s been buried there? ”

He couldn’t fault her for asking the same questions he would have. Yet he sensed she was more than a little curious about what had been found. Maybe because she was a cop, or because she knew more than she was letting on. “We’re waiting for the ME to finish the forensic examination, but his initial assessment based on the degree of decomp of what was left of the clothing is that the body was underground for at least a decade, maybe longer.”

This time she didn’t react at all. “Wow, I guess that explains why you’re here asking me questions about where I grew up. I’m sorry, but I don’t know anything about the dead man. I wish I could help, but I’m sure that poor guy was put there after we moved.”

Maybe, maybe not. “You are helping by talking to me.” He wondered again why she’d bristled about his interviewing her sister. “I have a few more questions if that’s okay.”

“I’ll do my best.” Her smile came across as forced.

“There was a young man who went missing about twelve years ago. Do you remember anything about that?”

“Missing?” She frowned, looking confused. “I don’t remember anything about a missing person. Granted, twelve years ago I was only seventeen, but I believe I would have remembered something like that. A missing person would be a hot topic of conversation around town at the time.”

He tried to gauge if she was being truthful. She didn’t look as if she were hiding anything, but it was dark, and he found it difficult to read nuances in her expression. “The missing man’s name was Bradley Crow, and he would have been twenty years old back then.” He paused, waiting for a response. When she remained silent, he asked, “Can you tell me if that name sounds familiar? ”

“Bradley Crow,” she repeated, her brow furrowed. “No, sorry. That name doesn’t sound at all familiar. I attended Peabody High School, and I think I’d remember someone with the last name of Crow.”

He’d convinced himself that her path had crossed with Brad Crow’s at one point or another, but maybe not. He tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. “He was probably a few years ahead of you in school.” Cole didn’t add that Bradley had been a high school dropout working for a local pub owned by his parents before he disappeared. And that his parents hadn’t even reported him missing until after he had been gone for a full three months.

He was here to interview Jina, not the other way around.

“Yeah, well, my high school days were a long time ago.” She uncrossed her arms as if she were feeling less defensive. “Sorry I can’t help.”

He prided himself on his ability to read people, but Jina was doing an admirable job of maintaining her composure while being grilled about a dead body found on her parents’ farmland.

Or covering up the truth. It was annoying that he wasn’t sure which.

“Do you remember anything strange going on back then?” He searched her gaze in the darkness. “Anything that, looking back, raises a red flag?”

She looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook her head. “No. Farming wasn’t going well for my parents. Like I said, my dad had a heart attack, so the moment I graduated from high school, they sold the property. Some houses were already going in back then, so the land was purchased at a premium. They moved to a smaller house outside of Madison. It wasn’t that much longer before my dad died. My mom was a nurse and worked at the health center. I headed off to college, and Shelly finished high school there.”

“I see.” He’d wondered if her parents had sold the place because of some mishap with Brad Crow. Maybe the stress of killing a kid who was bothering his beautiful daughters had caused her father’s heart attack. But if that was the case, he’d need to come at this from another angle. Jina wasn’t giving him anything to go on. “I noticed your mom passed away five years ago.”

“Yes. She had pancreatic cancer.” Jina’s expression reflected her grief and sorrow. “It’s just me and Shelly now.”

He nodded, and when she didn’t say anything more, he decided to let it go. “Well, that’s all I have for tonight, but I may have to stop by to talk to you again.”

“I understand,” Jina said. “I know how police investigations work.”

Yeah, and that was exactly what he was afraid of. “Thanks again. I appreciate your help.”

He was about to turn back to his car, when she asked, “How did your vic die?”

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Why do you ask?”

“Just cop curiosity.” Was it his imagination, or did she sound nervous? “You must have found something that indicated he was a victim of a crime.”

He hesitated, tempted to simply walk away. But then he surprised himself by saying, “His skull was bashed in.”

Her eyes widened with shock that appeared genuine. Or maybe that was wishful thinking on his part. “Really? That’s awful. I can’t believe some poor dead man was found on our old farm property.”

Again, he wasn’t sure if he was imagining things, but it seemed to him that Jina was relieved by the news .

As Cole slid behind the wheel of his SUV, he wondered if that was good or bad. Either way, he knew he’d be back to talk to her again.

Very soon.