Little Stolen Memories: New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author

Chapter 34

“Nice work,” Foley said.

“I wouldn’t say I solved the case like I usually do,” I said. “I just happened to be here when Xander discovered the gold chain in his guest room drawer. I should have known it was Marcus after he went out of his way to lie to me yesterday.”

“I have no doubt you would have figured it out. Give yourself more credit. This case wasn’t solved in twenty years, and you cracked it in less than a week.”

I may have, but it wasn’t like my other cases.

I wasn’t used to a case resolving itself before I figured it out.

I’d shot Marcus in the abdomen. It was enough to put him down, but not enough to kill him, which was my intention. And it couldn’t have happened at a more perfect moment. In Marcus’ wallet, Whitlock found another note we were sure was meant for Cora. The note suggested she should “watch her back,” even though he told the police the note was meant to scare her, nothing more.

I didn’t believe it.

None of us did.

Xander was shaken up, but once he calmed down enough to talk, the mystery of the gold chain and how it came to be in the dresser drawer revealed itself.

A few days earlier, Marcus’ ex had packed up some of his things, telling him he needed to come by and get them or she was taking it all to the landfill. She’d come across the piece of jewelry in his nightstand and had thrown it into a shoebox with a handful of other items. Marcus hadn’t even realized it was in there.

As Xander was in the guest room, looking for the note Owen had written, he’d moved the box to the side, and the lid came off, revealing the chain inside. It may have been two decades, but once he saw it, he remembered seeing the chains around some of the footballers’ necks.

To say nothing or tell the truth, knowing what would happen to his brother if he did. He thought of Cora, and the feelings he’d had for her at one time.

Today, honesty had prevailed.

As I stood next to Whitlock watching Marcus being wheeled past on a stretcher, I had one last dig to get in. I leaned down as he went by, smiling as I whispered, “Who’s woman enough now, you little prick?”

I watched Marcus being loaded into the ambulance and then I called Cora. She was relieved to know the killer was in custody at last. No longer did she need to look over her shoulder or avoid a town she once called home. She was free, as free as one could be, given what she’d been through in life.

“I heard you couldn’t get ahold of Danny earlier today,” I said to Whitlock. “Not that it matters. No need to keep tabs on him now.”

“He was out fishing with his sister,” Whitlock said. “Left their cell phones in the car. Guessing we better get Harvey on the horn, give him the good news.”

“Do you want to call him or shall I?”

“You cracked it. You make the call.”

I took out my cell phone and then hesitated when a call came into the work line. After hours, all calls coming into the office forwarded to me. On any other day, I wouldn’t have answered, but today, something told me I should.

I answered the call and was met with a single word, “Help.”

Then the line went dead.

Whitlock took one look at my face and said, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t be sure, but I think I may have just received a call from Valerie. She’s Jackson’s mother.”

“What’s happened?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think it’s good.”

As we raced to my car, I gave Whitlock a quick recap of my visit with Valerie that morning. He grabbed the passenger-side door handle and said, “I’m coming with you.”

Ten minutes later, we parked in front of Ray and Valerie’s house and sprinted to the front door, which we found ajar. Inside, we heard someone crying, and not just crying—wailing.

We drew our guns and nodded at one another, creeping inside the house and following the sounds to the kitchen, where we found Valerie on the floor, hovering over Ray. Blood was everywhere. On the walls. On the tile floor. On his clothing. On hers.

“What happened, Valerie?” I asked.

“It’s Ray … he’s ahh … he’s dead,” she managed to choke out.

Whitlock tapped me on my shoulder, and I looked up, spotting an elderly gentleman bending over a chair in the living room. He, too, was bleeding, but he was alive. His hand was pressed against his left breast.

I looked at Whitlock. “There’s a first aid kit in my car. Grab it for me and call 9-1-1.”

“Roger that,” he said.

I rushed to the older gentleman’s side and said, “Sir, help is on the way. Until then, we’ll do our best to stop the bleeding.”

He nodded and said, “My name is Hugo. I am Valerie’s father.”

“What happened here?”

“You the detective who was here earlier today?” Hugo asked.

“I am.”

“After you left the house, my daughter called me. She told me what you said, and I came straight over. She was catching me up on her life, and that’s when she told me about the abuse. And I … I …”

Tears gushed down his face like a flooded dam after a heavy rainstorm.

“Take a breath for me, Hugo,” I said.

Another nod, and a deep breath in.

“He came home, you see, and I confronted him,” Hugo said. “I’ll be honest, I wanted to wrap my hands around the guy’s neck and squeeze the life out of him.”

“How did he die?” I asked.

“The three of us were all standing in the kitchen, arguing … well, more like yelling at each other. I told him he was finished—at the dealership, with my daughter … it was over. I told him everyone would soon know what he did, and I’d make sure no one within a hundred miles from here would ever hire a scumbag like him.”

Whitlock returned, and we opened the first aid kit, pulling out what we needed to treat Hugo’s wound until the ambulance arrived, which I expected wouldn’t be long. If I was going to find out how Ray died, I had to do it now.

As I dressed his wound, I said, “You didn’t tell me how Ray died.”

“All of this … the house, his job, the car he drives, it’s all in my name. When he realized he was going to lose it all, he grabbed a knife out of the block on the counter, and he stabbed me. Good thing the sucker had poor aim.”

It was a good thing.

But it failed to explain how Ray was dead and Hugo was alive.

“What happened next?”

“He was getting ready to stab me a second time, and I beat him to it. Grabbed a knife and plunged it in where I knew it would do the most damage. When I was younger, back before I got into the auto business, I trained to be a doctor, you see. But I realized it wasn’t for me. Learned a lot, though, and today, I’d say that training came in handy.”

I glanced at Valerie, who was staring at her father, but still hadn’t said a word.

“Valerie, do you have anything to add?” I asked.

“I … ahh … I …”

“She doesn’t,” Hugo said. “My daughter has been through a lot. What do you say we save any further questions until later?”

“Later, meaning, until after you’ve had the chance to consult with your lawyer,” I said.

Hugo grinned. “Something like that.”

The whine of the ambulance could be heard speeding up the road. It wasn’t long before the house was teeming with police. By then, Hugo’s lawyer had arrived, and I had a feeling his version of the story would stick.

As I stood outside with Whitlock, I asked myself why Valerie had called me and why she had asked for help. I assumed she was in shock when her father was stabbed and hadn’t realized his knife wound wasn’t fatal at first. In her desperation, she didn’t know who to turn to, so she’d called me.

Hugo could have stabbed Ray like he said he did, but something in Valerie’s eyes when I looked at her told me his version of the story wasn’t an accurate one.

“A penny for a thought,” Whitlock said. “What do you say?”

“I’ve been thinking about Hugo’s story and whether his version of events is the truth.”

“And what have you decided?”

“After giving it some thought, I’ve decided it is the version I choose to believe.”

I would tell the same version of the story to Foley and anyone else who asked me. As far as I was concerned, justice had been served, not once, but twice today.

THE END

Thank you for reading Little Stolen Memories, book nine in the USA Today bestselling Georgiana Germaine mystery series.

I hope you enjoyed getting to know the characters in this story as much as I have enjoyed writing them for you. This is a continuing series with more books coming before and after the one you just read. You can find the series order (as of the date of this printing) in the “Books by Cheryl Bradshaw” section below.

In Little Empty Promises, book ten in the series:

How far would you go to protect your secret?

As the sun sets over the quaint town of Cambria, California, Cordelia Bennett, a sprightly seventy-two-year-old librarian, hums a classic tune while tidying up the bookshelves.

Just as she”s about to lock up for the night, a mysterious sound startles her. She turns. The fading light reveals a chilling presence in the shadows, and Cordelia realizes she’s not alone.

Someone else is there, watching her every move—someone with one agenda in mind—making sure today is Cordelia’s last.

What Readers are Saying about the Series:

”Makes you want to keep reading the story into the night.”

”A strong lead character and plenty of drama, it keeps the reader engaged.”

”Leaving you wanting to read more.”

”You feel like you live close by and can see these characters walking by and waving to you.”

”I will definitely read more from this author.”

”Kept me on the edge of my seat.”

…

Want a sneak peek? Here’s an exclusive look at chapter one …