Justine’s breath hitched in her throat at the long rows of headstones and the spattering of color where loved ones’ flowers spoke of their losses.
“You okay?” Trey asked, parking the truck.
“Yes.”
“Will and Slade have things under control at the ranch. We have bigger fish to bake.”
“Fry,” Justine corrected.
Trey laughed. “Oliver’s colloquialisms are wearing off on me.”
Susan and Fredrick stood beside the large tractor prepared to tear into the ground.
“Nice to see their out-of-state trip allowed them to return in time for this,” Trey said.
After asking for Susan to be brought in for questioning, Trey and Justine learned the Nolans had called Sergeant Oliver to notify him they’d be coming straight from the airport, having been out of town for a fundraising event. Their social media pictures provided proof of their airtight alibis for the night of the fire.
The walk to the grave was somber, and they stood at a distance, watching as the tractor’s jaws removed layers of dirt, revealing the casket beneath. The worker hoisted the box from the ground and placed it on the trailer.
Trey and Justine returned to his pickup and drove to the Omaha hospital where Taya McGill-Stryker prepped for the exam.
Entering the area just outside the pathology lab, Justine rushed to hug her friend. “Taya, thank you so much for coming.”
They exchanged pleasantries and Taya said, “The remains should be ready. There was a little delay in getting them here. Something about car trouble. However, you won’t be allowed in the lab. You can watch through the glass though.” She disappeared through the swinging doors.
Justine and Trey moved to the lab viewing-room window. A steel table and a rectangular tool tray sat beside the casket. Taya entered, and the assistant lifted the lid.
A long pause.
“What’s going on?” Trey whispered.
“I don’t know.”
Taya shook her head. She removed her gloves and exited the lab. Within a few seconds, she walked over to Trey and Justine. “We have a problem. There’s no body.”
“What?” Trey and Justine chimed in unison.
“The casket’s empty.”
“How’s that possible? We were there when it was dug up,” Trey insisted.
Taya lifted her hands. “All I can tell you is it’s empty now.”
“Was it left alone at any time?” Trey pressed.
“Only with the driver.” Taya paused, then scurried out of the room.
Trey and Justine followed her to the loading area. The driver and truck were gone.
“Guess that explains the delay in the delivery.” Taya shook her head.
Trey slammed his hands on the wall. “Unbelievable!”
Justine slumped onto a hard plastic chair. Her cell rang, interrupting the conversation, and she glanced at the screen before hitting Ignore.
“The Nolans got to the casket and stole the body,” Trey said.
Justine’s phone rang again with the same number. “Excuse me.” She hurried from the loading dock, answering the call. “Justine Stark.”
“Miss Stark, this is Mr. Krendal. I’m sorry to bother you during your time of mourning, but I’m the funeral director at Dearly Departed in Omaha, and your name is listed as the guarantor for the Grammert funeral.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Mrs. Victoria Grammert advised you’d be responsible for the bill. I’m sorry, but I must insist on payment before the services today, or we will not be able to fulfill our commitment.”
Justine sucked in a breath. “What are you talking about? Ignaseus Grammert is dead?”
“Yes, ma’am, and the services are this afternoon at four o’clock. Without payment—”
“Do you have a number for Mrs. Grammert?”
“Yes.” Mr. Krendal rattled off the ten digits.
“Please give me a moment. I’ll call you right back.” Justine disconnected and dialed the number.
“Hello.” Victoria’s quivering voice carried through the line.
“Mother, this is Justine. I just spoke with Mr. Krendal.”
“Don’t worry—I didn’t tell him the great Justine Stark, criminal psychologist, was related to the lowly convict Ignaseus Grammert. I simply listed you as the guarantor of the services. A good daughter who would pay for her daddy’s funeral.”
How did her mother have the power to use Justine’s achievements as swords to attack her with? Trey exited the loading dock and paused.
Justine shook her head and held up a hand, signaling him to stay back. “When did he die?”
“Why do you care? You wrote us off for that hag, Mrs. Scranton. But the least you can do is pay for your father’s burial. You won’t even have to leave the comfort of your home to do that.”
The words were tiny daggers to Justine’s heart. “When did he pass?” she asked again.
Trey moved closer, but Justine couldn’t look at him. Yet she didn’t walk away.
A part of her needed his comforting presence.
“Last week.” Victoria sniffled.
Always the actress.
“So? Are you going to do the respectful thing? It’s a daughter’s duty.”
Guilt swarmed Justine. She strove to behave honorably in everything. Did she owe it to her parents to absorb the costs? For once, maybe her mother had a point. Justine swallowed hard. “Yes. I’ll handle the payment.”
“Good.” Victoria disconnected.
Justine pocketed her phone, her gaze fixed on the small octagon floor tiles. Her father was gone.
“Justine?” Trey slid beside her. “Are you okay?”
She turned as the ground gave out beneath her. Trey caught her in an embrace. Justine clung to him, allowing the tears to fall freely.
They stood that way until Justine could speak again.
“What happened? Who died?” Trey spoke softly, caressing her hair.
“My father.” The words were so foreign. She backed away and dug out a tissue.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Do you want to talk about it?”
She withdrew her phone. “Give me a few minutes alone, please. I need to call Mr. Krendal.”
The need to be in control had Justine shifting into professionalism.
Trey nodded, then shoved his hands into his pockets and exited the room.
Justine secured the total amount for the funeral and agreed to meet Mr. Krendal at the home an hour before the services. She’d pay her respects without the other attendees seeing her and slip out before her mother arrived.
But the cost would drain a huge part of her savings account. What would she do about the ranch? How would she cover Will’s labor and the supplies? Her head ached with the overwhelming questions stacking in a towering pile.
Trey returned with a cup of coffee for her. “I talked with Taya and she agreed to stick around. We’re not letting the Nolans get away with this. I spoke to the hospital security manager and got footage of the driver, Pete Lucas, from their cameras. Sergeant Oliver is sending Eric the Vulture to bring Pete in for questioning.”
“Good.” Justine swallowed the lump in her throat. “Mind if we take a walk?”
“Sure. Let’s get Magnum too.”
With Magnum leashed, they strolled to a nearby park.
“I hate to ask this, but I need a ride to the funeral home later today.”
“Of course. Whatever you require.”
Justine smiled. “Somehow, I don’t doubt you mean that, but you have no idea how much I could ask right now.”
Trey stopped and faced her. “I’d do anything for you. I know that’s corny, but it’s true.”
She shook her head. “Not if you really knew me.”
Trey took her hand, enveloping it with his own. “Try me.”
The need to unburden herself with why her father’s death hurt but not like it would for a normal daughter propelled Justine forward.
They walked to a stone bench and sat.
“Sure you want to hear this?”
“Absolutely.” Trey petted Magnum. “You have our undivided attention.”
She chuckled. “Well, until he spots a squirrel or something.”
Trey laughed. “Fair enough.”
“My father’s name is Ignaseus Grammert. My mother is Victoria. I changed my last name when I was eighteen and took my maternal grandmother’s surname. I divorced myself from my parents.”
Trey didn’t speak and she continued, “You’re probably thinking what an ungrateful brat I am.”
“Actually, I’m wondering what pain caused you to make that drastic change.”
She bit her quivering lip. His compassion squeezed her heart. “My father was physically abusive. Always angry. My mother sided with him. No matter what. Our home put the fun in dysfunction.”
He chuckled. “Sorry.”
She smiled. “No, I have to joke or I’ll cry again.”
He nodded. “I understand. Family relationships are the toughest. The old adage ‘hurting people hurt people’ applies here, because your parents both lived out of their pain. That’s not an excuse.”
“Yes. And I agree with the statement. I don’t think anyone wakes up one morning determined to destroy another person’s life. Even in murder cases I’ve worked, the act itself was rarely premeditated. More like an emotional volcano that burst.”
“Attending your father’s funeral would be closure for you.”
He didn’t understand. She removed her button-up shirt, revealing the matching tank top beneath it, and showed him the burn scars covering her arms. “That night, my father beat me senseless. For the first time, my mother tried to protect me, and he went after her too. We were unconscious when he covered the room in gasoline and lit the house on fire. Our next-door neighbor, a widow named Mrs. Scranton, heard the fire alarms going off and saw the flames.” Justine’s throat tightened. “She pulled us both from the blaze. One of those things where a person gets crazy strong and overcomes natural odds by sheer adrenaline. Anyway, she saved our lives. But my mother defended my father’s actions and stood by him, even after he was convicted.”
Trey’s mouth hung open. “I don’t know what to say.”
Justine donned her shirt again, covering the scars. “I forgave them both years ago. At least, I started the process of forgiveness. Days like today, I feel as though I haven’t made much progress. My mother signed my name guaranteeing the payment for my father’s funeral.”
“If you want to go, I’ll be right beside you. If you decide it’s too much to deal with, I’ll support you. Whatever you need, I’m here for you.” The sincerity in Trey’s eyes consumed Justine.
She looked down, and Trey took her hands in his, grounding her. “Why are you so good to me?”
“Because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. Inside and out.”
Captured by his words, Justine was flooded with unfamiliar emotions.
Their gazes held while the rest of the world faded away.
Justine surrendered to her heart’s cry, feathering her lips against Trey’s. Their kiss was tender, tentative and full of promise.
* * *
Trey paced outside the interrogation-room door, his patience waning.
“You’re making me nervous,” Justine whispered.
“We know Pete’s involved in the theft of Kayla’s remains. Why is he lawyering up?”
Footsteps at the end of the hallway halted Trey’s words. Alex Duncan approached. “I’ll be Mr. Lucas’s legal representative.”
Trey glanced at Justine. “I should be astonished you’re representing Lucas, but my surprise-meter is flat pegged out.”
Alex held his briefcase with both hands, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “I will need a moment to confer with my client.”
“Have at it.” Trey gestured toward the room.
Justine blocked the entry and shifted out of the way, allowing Alex to enter. He closed the door softly behind him.
“This is ridiculous. Why can’t we just haul in the Nolans?” Justine’s question was more comment than inquiry.
Trey resumed pacing the hallway until Alex peered out.
“We’re ready,” he announced.
Justine entered first, and they moved to the chairs across the table from Pete and Alex.
Pete’s knee bounced, and he bit a fingernail with nervous vigor.
Guilty. “I’m curious why you’re his lawyer,” Trey said.
“Pete’s worked for the Nolans in the past, and they wanted to help him,” Alex said dryly.
Trey snorted. “Now that your attorney is here, tell me where Kayla Nolan’s remains are.”
Alex’s blank facial expression matched his monotone response. “My client is only responsible for exhuming the casket, which you both witnessed. He provided that service appropriately and efficiently.”
“Right up to the point where he detoured and the contents mysteriously disappeared,” Trey snapped.
Pete opened his mouth, but Alex shook his head. “The contents aren’t his responsibility.”
“They are when he either organized or performed the theft,” Trey said.
Pete leaned forward, a bead of sweat easing down his brow. “I only did what I was—”
“Don’t say another word or I cannot help you,” Alex instructed.
Pete slunk down in the seat and resumed fingernail biting and knee bouncing.
“We have security-camera footage showing Pete pulling up at the hospital twenty minutes after the expected arrival time. That gives him plenty of opportunity to drop off the remains somewhere else. I will recommend charging your client with obstruction of justice, among other things.” Trey stood.
Pete jumped up. “No!” He addressed Alex. “You said—”
Alex placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder, pulling him down. “I said we would handle this.” Then to Trey, “My client may have information on the body’s location, but before we say anything, I want the assurance that he will not be implicated in any way.”
Justine jerked to look at Trey, desperation in her expression. “We need the remains.”
As if that were news, but Trey agreed. Charging Lucas would only delay the exhumation. Still, allowing him to go unpunished somehow rewarded the Nolans. Trey leaned back and crossed his arms. “If I get information—solid, verifiable details—and the remains are recovered in their entirety, I will not recommend charges against him.”
Alex slapped both hands on the table and Pete startled in his chair. “Very good. We’ll be in touch.” Alex stood. “Let’s get you out of here.”
Trepidation hung in Pete’s eyes, but he willingly followed Alex from the room.
Justine rose and peered out the door, then closed it. “What if he doesn’t provide anything?”
“He will.”
Ten minutes later, a text message rang through with GPS coordinates from an unknown number. “Chicken,” Trey mumbled.
“He sent the information?” Justine looked over his shoulder.
“Possibly. It came from a blocked number. I’ll ask Sergeant Oliver to handle it from here. You and I need to leave for the funeral.”
Justine glanced down. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Oliver answered on the first ring. “Well?”
“Alex Duncan’s representing Lucas,” Trey began.
Oliver mumbled something unpleasant. “Did he give you anything?”
“Yeah, as long as we don’t charge Lucas. I had to agree to it, boss. We need the remains.”
“That should’ve been my decision, but I’d have done the same. And?”
“I’ll text you the message with the location that Alex sent over.” Trey concluded the call with the request to have Oliver accompany Taya.
“Consider it handled. I’ll stay with her through the examination, as well. Please give Justine our condolences.”
“Will do. Thanks, boss.”
“Everything okay?” Justine asked.
“Yep.” Trey offered his most encouraging smile, and they walked out to the truck.
The funeral home wasn’t far from the patrol office, and a few cars filled the parking lot. They’d arrived early enough to avoid the mourners.
Trey and Magnum accompanied Justine to the business office, where she paid the bill. He stood outside the door, but his cop instincts took over and he listened in. When Krendal announced the amount due, Trey sucked in a breath. Her mother had apparently spared no expense since Justine was responsible. A slow simmer of anger welled inside him.
Justine made no qualms about it but silently handed over her credit card. Trey wondered how the drain on her finances would affect the repairs to the ranch. As much as he wanted to rush in and settle the bill for her, Trey knew it wasn’t his place.
“Mr. Krendal, would it be possible for me to pay my respects before the visitation?” Justine asked.
“Absolutely.”
She exited the office with a blank expression. Her gait was stiff, almost robotic, as Krendal led them to the viewing. Soft music played, and an open casket stood at the front of the room.
“Take your time.” Krendal closed the doors behind them.
“Would you like me to go with you?” Trey asked.
Justine shook her head.
He waited with Magnum at the last row.
She didn’t move for several beats. Then, in painfully slow steps, she approached the casket. Trey’s heart squeezed, desperate to help her and completely clueless how to do that.
She’d nearly reached the casket when a slender woman with strikingly similar features to Justine’s entered from a side door. “You’ve got a lot of nerve. Don’t touch him.”
“Hello, Mother.” Justine’s voice was steely, but Trey recognized the vulnerability beneath the tough exterior.
He stepped forward. This was Victoria Grammert? “Excuse me.”
Victoria’s lip curled. “This is my husband’s funeral. I have the right to say who can and cannot be here, Officer.” She practically spit the last word. “Did you handle the bill?”
“Yes,” Justine answered.
Satisfaction covered Victoria’s face. “Good. Then you’re free to go.” She waved them off. “Don’t waste your time pretending you care about me or your father.”
Justine held her chin high. “I’d like to pay my respects.”
“Why? I haven’t had a daughter for twenty years. You’re a stranger, and strangers aren’t welcome here.”
People began filing into the room.
Justine stood frozen just a few feet from the coffin.
Trey moved to her side. “Let’s go.”
Victoria stepped forward, blocking Justine. “Get out! You’re too good for us. Always have been. You turned your back on us. You kept him behind those prison walls! You stopped him from having a real life, just to hang on to your bitterness.” Victoria’s voice rose with each word.
Trey put an arm around Justine’s waist. “Come on. Let’s go.”
She nodded, shuffling beside him. A woman ran to the front to comfort the now-wailing Victoria, and the other mourners looked on with curiosity.
The trip to the truck was excruciating.
“I’m so sorry, Justine.”
She released a bitter laugh. “I walked into that.”
“You did the right thing, and you did not deserve that attack.”
“Maybe I did.” Justine glanced down, one hand rubbing her arm.
“Don’t let Victoria do that to you. She’s angry and hurting. I’m sure she didn’t mean those awful things.” Trey hoped that was true, but something told him Victoria intended the cruelty and the show.
“Oh, she did.” Justine looked up, tears welling in her eyes.
Trey reached for her, and she crumbled into his arms, her body racked with sobs.
He shouldn’t have encouraged Justine to attend the funeral. Seeing her hurt was agonizing, and he longed to take away her pain. Lord, I need wisdom here.
He turned so Justine’s back faced the people filing into the building. Several glanced at them. Did they know Justine was Ignaseus’s daughter? A few pointed and shook their heads.
He held Justine tighter, anxious to guard her from their judgmental faces. And in that moment, Trey realized he needed Justine in a way he’d never needed anyone before.
She was much more than a colleague. He cared what happened to her. He wanted her to be happy. He wanted to protect her.
He wanted to be a part of her life.
But what if she didn’t feel the same way? She’d established defined boundaries of their relationship.
Yet they’d shared a kiss. One that had rocked him to his core, igniting a place in his heart reserved for only Justine.
Trey’s cell phone rang, dragging him to the present, but he didn’t move.
Justine leaned back. “Answer it. I’m okay.”
“It’s Oliver,” Trey said, glancing at the screen. “Sir.”
“The body has been secured. Dr. McGill-Stryker will begin her examination immediately.”
Trey exhaled relief. Finally, some good news. “Outstanding.”
“Jackson, you should know the Nolans have gone to the colonel.”
“With what?”
Oliver sighed. “They’re accusing you and Miss Stark of an inappropriate relationship, claiming it’s interfering with the case and the profile.”
“That’s ridiculous!” Trey paced an area beside his truck, feeling Justine’s eyes on him.
Were the Nolans following them?
“I’m a realist, Jackson, and it wouldn’t be the first time romance invaded a case,” Oliver said, referring to Trey’s brother, Slade, who’d fallen for a murder suspect.
“That’s not what’s happening here. Miss Stark and I are purely professional and platonic. Neither of us has any romantic interest in the other.”
Justine faced him, hurt in her eyes.
“See that you keep it professional. Otherwise, I’ll have to take you off the case.”
“Understood.” Trey disconnected.
Justine folded her arms, donning her clinical exterior. “Now what?”
He reluctantly gave her an abbreviated version of the discussion.
“Of course there’s nothing going on between us. We shared a kiss—that never should’ve happened—but surely they didn’t see that? Even if they did, it meant nothing.” Justine’s tone hardened.
“Are you upset with me?”
“No. We’re partnered on a case. I appreciate the kindness you offered for my father’s funeral. It won’t be needed again.” Justine gripped the truck door handle. “Let’s get moving.”
Trey loaded Magnum and slid behind the wheel.
Justine sat erect in the seat, face set like flint.
“There’s good news. Kayla’s remains have been recovered, and Dr. McGill-Stryker will start the exam immediately.”
Justine nodded. “Great.”
“You’ve had an awful day. Let’s head back to the ranch so you can rest.”
“No, we have to keep working. I need the distraction, and if the Nolans are as unreliable about the seventy-two hours as they have been about everything else, we can’t risk running out of time. We have the case files—or what’s left of them after the water damage—with us. Let’s find a place to go through them.”
“We can return to the patrol office so that we’re close to where Dr. McGill-Stryker is working.”
“Perfect.”
The drive was too quiet, but Trey was at a loss for words.
Once seated in the room, they spread out the files.
An insurance document caught Trey’s eye. “The Nolans had a life insurance policy on Kayla.”
“How much?”
“Seven hundred thousand.” He scanned the document. “It was paid out to them—” he pointed to the case file “—just prior to Drazin’s retirement date.”
“The amount is odd. Not a million or half a million?” Justine asked.
“An off amount would deflect from suspicion?”
“But why? They’re not in dire straits. Who’s the beneficiary?”
“They are.”
“They could’ve hired someone to kill Kayla or...” Justine hesitated, a pen pressed against her lips. “You said it was paid out before Drazin retired. What if he was the recipient?”
“It should be easy enough to trace.” But Sergeant Oliver’s warning rang in Trey’s mind. He couldn’t accuse Drazin of taking a bribe, and as much as he didn’t like the guy, he didn’t believe he’d murdered Kayla. “We need the Nolans’ financial records.”
Trey typed an email to Sergeant Oliver, making the formal request.
“May I look at the insurance policy?”
Trey passed her the document.
Justine’s eyes widened. “Hmm, interesting. There’s a Slayer Rule to the policy.”
“You lost me.”
“If the Nolans are found to be involved in Kayla’s death, they’d have to repay the money. Let’s park this for now until we can get a hold of their financial records.” Justine’s phone rang. “It’s Alex Duncan.”
“Put it on speaker.”
“Hello, Alex,” Justine said.
“Miss Stark. I need to talk to you.”
“We’re here at the patrol office.”
“No. You and Trey must meet with me in person. Enough is enough. I have what you need, but if the Nolans discover I’m the one who gave it to you, I’m a dead man.”
“Alex, why should we believe you?” Trey asked.
“You shouldn’t, but I can tell you that without the evidence I have, you’ll never solve the case. With it, you’ll have everything you need for a conviction. So I guess you’ll have to decide if it’s worth it to you.”
Justine met Trey’s eyes. He gave a slight nod.
“Okay. Where?”
“I’ll send you the address. Meet me there at ten o’clock tonight. I have one chance to right the wrong done to Kayla.”