Author: Dee Henderson
Category: Christian
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/dee-henderson/page,13,63409-the_healer.html
“Cole?”
“Back here.”
Cole poked a pair of grill tongs down into the wall between the joists to fish out the evidence he was after. He had to give this homeowner credit for originality. He had spliced a string of fireworks into the outlet to start the fire. The explosions had sent the strand dancing around within the wall and dropped the evidence into a crevice out of the way of the resulting flames.
“So this is your idea of a date.”
He turned his head to look back toward the door. Rachel crossed the scarred flooring where the burnt carpet had been ripped back.
Rae was the classic beauty in the O’Malley family with an innate sense of how to dress well to make an impression when she chose. She was making one. She’d chosen ivory and jade, and the vibrant color looked gorgeous on her. He could look for hours and simply enjoy the sight. Even if it did leave him with a permanent crick in his neck.
She smiled. “You should have said you needed to cancel.”
“An evening out with you—I’m not canceling. You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I’ll be about ten more minutes.”
“Take your time.”
He reluctantly looked back to the task at hand. “I wasn’t comfortable the tarps would hold for tonight.”
“Cole…you stood me up for work, not another woman. We’re fine.”
“Sure?” He didn’t know which he appreciated more, Rachel’s looks or her common sense.
“It will cost you the larger cannoli.”
“Italian? I thought we had settled on Chinese.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Then it’s a good thing I happen to love Italian.”
She laughed and started to wander around the room. “What happened here?”
Cole finished gathering the outlet wiring. “My initial guess, the owner got behind on his bills and wanted to collect the insurance.”
“So he burned it down.”
“Tried to.” Cole sealed and initialed the last evidence bag. He’d seen just about everything in his years leading the arson squad. This fire had been an obvious arson attempt, interesting but obvious.
Cole picked up the box with sealed evidence bags. “Want to follow me to the fire department while I drop this off, or head to my place? I’ll change and you can leave your car there.”
“I’ll meet you at the house.”
Cole took Rachel to Antonio’s. The Italian restaurant was tucked into a hard-to-find circle drive near Sterling Lake and the owner was a friend. He watched Rae in the candlelight toy with her salad. She could push away the weight of what was going on in her life up until the point she paused, then the details rushed back to take her attention. “How did your meeting with Marissa go?”
“Good. I always enjoy seeing her. She’s wrestling with college plans.”
“And Adam?” He wasn’t sure where to take the conversation tonight. He wanted her to have a relaxing evening. But until he got her out of silence mode, it wasn’t easy to know how to accomplish that.
“Adam wants to know when the bridge will be reopened so he can watch the water up close.”
“Another week at least. I’m thankful. Kids on the bridge would not be a good idea with all the interesting things still floating in the river just begging to be grabbed.”
The waiter brought their dinner and another basket of hot bread. Rachel tore in half a piece of the bread and buttered it. “I’m fading on you already. I’m sorry; Friday night was probably not the best day to suggest.”
“On the contrary, this is the perfect time. A good meal, a walk afterward, a chance to sleep in tomorrow—” He raised an eyebrow.
“My schedule is clear,” she confirmed.
“Then consider this the start of a chance to relax. That’s the definition of a good date.” Her smile made the evening worthwhile.
“Your mother taught you wonderful manners, Cole.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” An idea occurred that might lift her spirits. “Hey, I’ve got a question for you.”
“Sure.”
“You helped Jennifer make the arrangements for her wedding. Do you still have your notes?”
“Two notebooks of them. Why? Do you know someone who’s getting married?”
“I heard from Marcus that Kate wants to elope.”
“He’s working the problem now?”
Cole nodded.
“Then it has become more than a rumbling rumor that she might just talk Dave into it.”
“I was thinking it would do Jennifer good to be part of planning a surprise wedding.”
She blinked, and then her smile bloomed. As tired as she might be at the end of a week, Rachel still blossomed at a suggestion of something she could dive into. “Dave would have to like the idea.”
“A given.” Cole watched her as the idea developed. He found it fascinating the way her fatigue disappeared.
“Kate’s been avoiding setting the date, but the problem is simple— she doesn’t want to plan a big wedding, doesn’t want to face a day fighting tears trying to keep her smile in place. If it was just her preference, she would have eloped back in November.” Rachel thought some more and nodded. “You know, it might work. I’ve got a pretty good idea what Kate wants at her wedding. We’ve been sounding her out for months about it. And if she arrived and found Dave had made all the arrangements for them to essentially elope without leaving—” She grinned. “Jennifer will love this, and it will give her something fun to focus on. Thanks, Cole.”
“Put those candy mints on your list. I like them.”
“Glad to. I wish I had Dave’s home number memorized. If he likes the idea, I could call Jennifer.”
“Is your phone in your purse?”
She nodded.
Cole slipped out his address book and thumbed through it, looking for the card Dave had given him. “Try this.” He gave her Dave’s unlisted phone number scrawled on the back.
“You’re helpful to have around.”
He grinned at her. “Sure am.”
“I owe you one.” She turned her attention to the phone call. “Dave? Got a minute? Kate’s not there is she?”
Lisa had the crime lab to herself as most people in the building had already gone home. She shifted the phone against her shoulder. Rachel and Cole were going out tonight; it was the best news she had heard in days. “Really, Jen? Where was Rachel at when she called?”
“She was just meeting up with Cole. I hear it’s going to be Italian tonight.”
Lisa brought down the next photograph from the Carol Iles murder scene from the wall and slid it under a magnifying glass and bright light. She was looking for anything that might help give her another clue to work on this case. “Italian sounds wonderful. I think Cole’s perfect for her.”
“I know she’s perfect for him,” Jennifer replied. “Rae lights up when she talks about Cole.”
“Very much like you do when Tom comes into the room.” Lisa spotted something in the photo of the kitchen counter that puzzled her. “Jen, let me call you back.”
“Sure. I’ll be here.”
Lisa called Marcus and asked him to come over with Quinn.
She took the photo with her and went to locate the negative. She took it with her to the image lab. Twenty minutes later she had a twenty-by-twenty blowup of the kitchen counter. She pinned it to the board. Her eyes hadn’t been fooling her.
She started looking through the evidence for the box collected from the counter.
“What do you have, Lisa?”
She turned as Marcus and Quinn joined her. “The blown-up photo on the board,” she indicated, letting them see for themselves.
She found the right box and pulled off the lid. She pushed aside two pot holders, a napkin holder, salt and pepper shakers. The cop that had cleared the kitchen counter had swept his arm across it to put everything into a box. “This box has already been sorted once already, but the photo said it was
here.”
“Find it?” Marcus asked, joining her.
She started pulling out each napkin from the holder. “Got it.” She gingerly held up a blue business card by the edges. “Carol had one of Rachel’s cards.”
Fourteen
Rachel finished off her list of Kate’s favorite foods. “Timing is going to be a challenge. If we wait too long, Kate will get wind that something is being planned.” She ate another bite of her dinner and nodded to the waiter who had come to refill their coffees.
Cole leaned over and added strawberries to her list. “Three to four weeks max,” he agreed, “especially since you’re going to want all the O’Malleys involved in pulling it off.”
“It will be tight. Dave’s going to ask his brother-in-law Adam Black to be his best man, and the two of them will come up with a good cover story for us.” She stirred cream in her coffee.
Cole smiled at her. “What?”
“I need a date for the wedding.” She had a feeling Cole would look really sharp in a tux.
“You’ve got one. I wouldn’t miss this for anything.” Cole looked beyond her and set down his coffee. “We’ve got company.” He leaned back, his words and actions catching her by surprise.
She turned and was stunned to see her brother Marcus coming toward them. She nodded to her brother and met the gaze of his partner. “Quinn.”
“Ma’am.”
She loved the way he said ma’am with his Western drawl.
Marcus pushed his hands into the pockets of his slacks. He looked ill at ease. “Can we talk for a minute, Rae, outside?”
She slowly set down the pen and closed the pad of paper. “Of course.” She glanced across the table. “I’ll be back in a minute, Cole.” She followed her brother, confused by what was going on. Lisa, waiting by their car, raised her hand. Rachel nodded to her and looked back at her brother.
“Lisa’s got a murder case. And your name came up.”
“How?”
“The victim had one of your cards.”
Marcus offered her the card encased in a plastic sleeve.
Rachel took it and turned it over. The ink was faint but readable. “Yes, it’s one of my cards. But the number—it’s very old. 930710. It’s my original numbering sequence. It was the seventh event in 1993, the tenth card I gave out there.”
“Remember back that far?” Marcus asked.
She held up her hand and walked away, looking at the card and thinking back to that year in her life. She remembered incidents and children in detail, but putting a number with an event took more thought. She circled back. “9307 was a shooting at a federal park in Colorado. A man walked into a gift shop carrying a handgun, looking for his wife.” She had it now, clear in her mind. “It was early May, a sunny day, but cool. A group of school kids were at the park on their way to see the sulfur springs. Police coming in to surround the building were forced to get the kids out one at a time from where they hid behind the counter.” She remembered the children’s fear of what they had gone through and their fear that their friends wouldn’t get out safe.
“Anybody hurt?”
She shook her head. She thought about the event and she could see those kids. “It ended peacefully. But the kids were badly shaken up. Since they got trapped together, the fear one felt transmitted to all of them. They collectively started to be afraid of the outdoors and the strangers who might be out there watching.”
“Carol Iles. She’s thirty-two,” Marcus offered.
“The shooting murder during the early days of the flooding?” Rachel thought about the name. “No. The name is wrong, and the age. I gave this card to Amy Dartman. She’d be in her early twenties now.”
“You’re sure.”
Her memory tag for names was vivid. “Dean, his friend John, Paul and Brad, Cheryl, Emily, Leah and Lucy. The teacher was Nicole. The tenth card went to Amy Dartman.” She felt silly explaining it. “A DJ eating a peanut butter sandwich while talking on his cell phone saying awesome deal: DJ, PB, CELL, AD. Those were the cards.”
“Any idea how Carol got this one?” Quinn asked.
“It’s not unusual for kids to still have the card years later. But why Amy would have dug it out and passed it on? I have no idea.”
“When did you last talk with Amy?”
Rachel shook her head. “A long time ago. It will be in my log book back at my apartment.”
“I hate to interrupt a night out, but it would help if you could get the book. Amy must have given Carol the card, and it’s not something that would be passed on for no reason. I’d like to locate her if possible,” Marcus said.
Rachel looked back at the restaurant. “Let me go tell Cole. I left my car at his place.”
“We’ll take you by the apartment and then over to get your car.”
“No. I came with Cole; I’ll leave with him.” She patted Marcus’s arm. “Give me a few minutes.” She nodded farewell to Quinn and smiled at Lisa, and walked back into the restaurant trying to figure out how she was going to explain this to Cole.
He was still at their table, but both plates had disappeared. He rose when she returned. “The plates are being kept warm. Trouble?”
“Remember Lisa’s murder case the night of the flooding? One of my blue cards turned up among the victim’s things.”
“Rae, you live an interesting life,” Cole murmured. “How can I help?”
She appreciated the man more every time she was with him. “Take me home? They need my old files.”
“Of course.”
“I’m sorry about dinner.”
Cole smiled at her and spoke briefly to the waiter who had come over. Their dinner became to-go. “Don’t worry about it, Rae. We’ll try this again next week.” He offered her one of the chocolate mints left with the credit card receipt. “How old was the card?”
“From ’93. I’m amazed the ink was still readable.”
“Your place to get the log book, and then stop for ice cream on the way to get your car?”
“I’d like that a great deal. I am sorry. This wasn’t what I thought the night would be like.”
“Don’t worry about it. Interesting dates are much more enjoyable than boring ones. Besides, the evening isn’t over yet.”
“I don’t like this, Marcus,” Quinn remarked, turning over the card. “Amy Dartman. We’ve heard that name before.”
“Criminal division, down the hall from Carol, mentioned as one of Carol’s friends. She was on vacation the day we were there,” Marcus confirmed.
“My missing blond?” Lisa asked.
“Maybe,” Marcus replied. “Let’s get Rachel’s file and check out Amy. I’d rather not tell Rae more than we have to until we understand this. She doesn’t know one of her special kids from years ago is missing and may be dead. She was having a good evening with Cole. Let’s try not to totally ruin that.”
“Agreed,” Lisa replied.
Rachel unlocked the door to her apartment and turned on the lights, hoping she hadn’t been in such a rush this morning she had left her housecoat in the living room and her cereal bowl on the desk. She didn’t want Cole getting a bad impression.
Her home was cozy, filled with furniture, the walls crowded with pictures of kids she had helped, and pillows dominating the couch and chairs. It was her haven. She loved every inch of it. And with four guests crowding into her living room, it got distinctly small. The material she had been reading in preparation for the upcoming commission hearing was spread out on the floor by the couch.
One wall of the living room was solid bookcases. Rachel crossed over to them. She kept the composition books in chronological order. She searched the bottom left shelf, tugging out books and reading the front labels. “Here it is. 9307.”
She opened the book. Over time it had developed into a detailed log. There were factual accounts of the events in the words of those who had lived through it—the children and adults caught up in it, spectators, officers on the scene. Accounts had been u
nderlined to show unique facts brought out by each individual. Spider webs of circled names and interconnections showed relationships among those present. There were neat pages of addresses and phone numbers for family members and friends, records of her follow-up calls with detailed notes. And inside the cover, an index listing of cards given out. “930710 was Amy.” She handed the log to Marcus.
“Is this phone number beside her card number Amy’s parents?” Marcus asked.
“Yes. Check the center of the book for names and address. Would you like me to call them?”
“Let us check the address, make sure they still live there. Thanks, Rachel.”
“I hope it helps.”
Marcus smiled at her. “It’s a lead. There have been few. I’ll let you know what we find.”
“How did you know where we had gone for dinner?”
Marcus smiled. “You called to talk with Jennifer while you waited for Cole. She happened to mention it to Lisa.”
Rachel glanced at her sister. “I hate being on this end of the grapevine.”
“Give me interesting news to share—”
Rachel laughed because Lisa was stating the obvious. “Turn the locks on your way out. Cole and I are going to get dessert and then my car. And Marcus, if you’ve got a minute. The kitchen window is stuck. Could you elbow it down again?”
“What broke when it jammed?”
“I knocked over two flowerpots and broke the string on my sun catcher.”
“Ouch. Sorry about that. I’ll see if I can fix it permanently this time.”
Cole held the door open for her. “How many events are recorded in those books?”
“Forty, sixty, something in that range.”
“Amy held on to your blue card for years. When she was scared, she called you.” Cole looked over at her.
She nodded. “The incident really shook her up. Amy was scared of the dark and sounds in the night for years.”
“Maybe Carol had a reason to be scared about something. Amy gave her your card and told her to call you.”
“She never did.”
He unlocked the car door for her. “What would you have done if a stranger had called you out of the blue?”