Cold Case Scandal
Author
Nicole Helm
Reads
15.6K
Chapters
23
With bullets raining fire around them. He'll risk everything to keep her safe. When Mary Hudson meets Walker Daniels — under gunfire, no less — the cautious cold case investigator becomes entrenched in his mother's decades-old unsolved murder case. But giving the alpha maverick and his siblings a safe haven at her family ranch only magnifies her attraction to him. Until Walker's sister reveals a secret tie to a powerful senator, challenging everything they thought they knew…
Chapter One
Mary Hudson was not like her siblings. They seemed to be determined to run toward danger, no matter the costs. Jack, her oldest brother, was the sheriff of tiny Sunrise, Wyoming. Grant had gone to war, though he’d thankfully returned. Cash, well, Cash had a daughter and had sworn off danger as much as he could, so maybe he and Mary were a little more alike than the others. Then there was Palmer, who’d played football and done a few years in the rodeo, and while he had settled down a bit the past year, he still took on dangerous cold case investigations as part of the family business.
And then there was Anna, who had been forced to slow down because of her current pregnancy, but Mary had no doubt her baby sister would be wreaking havoc once again when the baby was born. Though her husband, Hawk, would try to tame her, fool in love that he was.
Mary, on the other hand, had much preferred a life of order. Ever since her parents had disappeared when she was ten years old, she’d stepped in to be the structure sorely lacking in a household of five children being raised by their eighteen-year-old brother.
Oh, Jack was stern and strict and all those things, but he had nothing on Mary. Mary just knew how to wrap it up in a pleasant smile and soft words, and give people the impression she was biddable and sweet all the while she maneuvered them into exactly what she knew they needed.
At the end of the day, people were simple. Life was hard, violence and tragedy inevitable, but people themselves were easy.
So, she knew that instead of going to Jack with her request, she’d need to go to one of the other officers at Sunrise SD. Because Jack was by the book and tired of hearing her talk about this one administrative error.
Her four brothers—all older, hardheaded, obnoxious—seemed to think that it was perfectly acceptable for them to hold on to a client’s deposit when the client had disappeared before they’d done any work for them.
Mary did not agree. Though she didn’t do any of the cold case investigations with Hudson Sibling Solutions, she did everything else. Accounting, administration and a long list of other tasks it took to run a business, while her siblings did all the dangerous work.
So, Mary was the one who got to call the shots in this case. In her estimation, it was imperative they return the money to the client. If she had to be the one to track Mr. Joe Beck down and return his money to either him or, if he was no longer, one of his kin, then so be it.
It was only right and fair.
She currently sat at the small diner in Sunrise, waiting for Chloe Brink, both her friend and an officer with Sunrise SD. Because Chloe was not afraid of bending a few rules.
Mary was pretty sure her brother Jack would spontaneously combust at the mere thought.
Chloe came in wearing her Sunrise SD uniform—more casual than a lot of the police departments as it was just a polo with a badge and then pants of the officer’s choosing. Chloe slid into the booth across from Mary, immediately reached across and swiped Mary’s mug of coffee and took a big swig.
Mary wasn’t sure why, but she tended to make friends with people who were not like her. She supposed it came from always running herd on her baby sister, who was brash, outspoken and, well, a pill. It took a strong personality to enjoy Anna, and so any person Mary might have enjoyed who was more reserved didn’t stick around for long.
At least Mary knew what to do with brash, outspoken women.
“I ordered you one to go,” Mary said primly.
Chloe only grinned. “Yeah, but I needed a jolt ASAP.” She plopped a folder onto the table between them. “So, I did some digging into your guy. Looks like he’s got some aliases.”
“Oh.” Mary frowned. Aliases seemed bad. “Criminal type aliases?”
“Not exactly—at least nothing concrete on any record I could find. But definitely someone who wants to stay under the radar. This is the last known address I have for Joe Beck,” Chloe said, taking out a piece of paper from the folder. “It’s over in Hardy.”
Mary reached for the paper, but Chloe held her hand over it before Mary could fully pull it toward her.
“You’re just going to send him like a check or something, right?” Chloe asked suspiciously.
“Who do you take me for?” Mary replied primly.
“A Hudson,” Chloe replied with a laugh. “You might fancy yourself the calm, organized one who lets her siblings do all the wading in and causing trouble, but Mary Hudson, you always get your way.”
Mary didn’t bother arguing with it. It was true. She knew how to get her way, because more often than not, her way was correct.
The waitress appeared with the to-go cup of coffee and handed it to Chloe, who had to relinquish her hold on the paper.
Mary took it. An address in Hardy. She could take a drive out that way this morning and be back at the ranch before anyone really noticed. “Do you have a list of the aliases?”
Chloe passed over the whole file. “He’s a bit of a mystery, Mary. You go poking around in it, it’s possible you’re wading in deeper than you want.”
“I never wade in deeper than I want.” Mary looked at the list. Joe Beck—the man she was looking for. Steve Mier. Paul Anderson. Well, it didn’t matter what he went by, she’d get his money back to him.
“You just jinxed yourself,” Chloe said, quite seriously for a cop who had to know jinxing had nothing to do with life.
“I don’t believe in jinxes or curses or your rabbit’s foot or the crystals you evangelize. I have also never once burned sage.”
“Oh, no, you’re really doing it.”
Mary shook her head. “Go ahead, universe. Throw it all at me,” she said, because she enjoyed the look of pain and amusement that crossed Chloe’s face.
“Don’t go trying to find this guy, Mary. That area of Hardy isn’t the best, and I hate to break it to you, but I agree with Jack on this one.”
Mary scowled. “You should really second-guess your life choices if you’re agreeing with Jack.”
“Trying to return money someone doesn’t seem to want returned is a pointless exercise. Send the guy a letter. Send him a check, but don’t go down there. Or if you simply must, since it’s you and you will, don’t go alone. Take one of your brothers, or I’ll go with you on my next day off.”
“I’m sure that won’t be necessary.”
“Oh, don’t pull out the queen of the ranch voice on me,” Chloe said, standing. She was frowning, but Mary knew it was out of concern.
Mary stood, too, and handed Chloe the to-go cup. “Don’t forget your coffee.”
Chloe’s frown didn’t change, but she sighed. “Be careful, Mary.”
“I always am.” And she was. She was the careful one. This wasn’t reckless. This was seeing something through. It wasn’t right to keep the money. She could hardly put money for services not rendered on their taxes, so she wouldn’t keep it.
Mary left the diner and drove out of Sunrise, the pretty Western town surrounded by ranches—including her family’s. Then to the larger town of Hardy that had more jobs to offer. She didn’t call one of her brothers. She didn’t ask someone to come along.
She could handle this on her own.
She may have had second thoughts as she pulled into a parking spot in the run-down apartment complex, but surely if the man lived here, he needed the money returned to him all that much more than she’d thought.
She was doing him a favor, and the right thing. That was all that mattered.
She got out of her car. People sat on porches eyeing her, or her car more likely. Maybe her purse. But she was not the little princess she might appear. She was tough. She had been shot. Actually shot last month. Maybe the bullet had just grazed her arm, but she was officially tough.
Or so she told herself as her insides shook with nerves. She moved forward, chin high and not bothering to make eye contact with anyone. She ignored comments and attempts to get her attention and walked up the stairs to the door listed on the address.
She knocked. She heard something inside, but no one opened the door. She knocked again. “Mr. Beck?” she called, ignoring the creepy feeling she was being watched. “My name is...” Well, maybe she shouldn’t be shouting her name around here. “I’m from Hudson Sibling Solutions. I wanted to—”
The door opened. A man stood there. He was dressed all in black, which matched his hair and maybe even his eyes, which were a dark, dark brown. He was tall and broad-shouldered, but rangy. Those dark eyes were direct and angry.
He had an old scar on his chin and a crooked nose, and it shouldn’t have been appealing, especially when matched with the angry eyes, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that he was startlingly handsome. Wild, sure, but handsome.
Not that she went for the wild sort, but—
With no warning, she was jerked inside and all she could think was: well, darn.
She had dared the universe, and now she was going to pay.
WALKER DANIELS DIDN’T have the first earthly clue who the pretty, primly dressed woman who came to his door was, but he’d recognized one of his aliases and figured ignoring her wouldn’t work.
Especially here. Especially with what was coming.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
Her eyes were wide on the array of guns he had laid out on his table. He’d been packing up, getting ready to go. Someone had figured him out, and he knew it was too dangerous to stick around and find out who.
Though the who was the answer to everything, Walker was determined to stay alive first and foremost. If it meant another few years chasing down his mother’s killer, he’d do it.
He’d do whatever it took to find answers, and to keep his sister and brother safe.
End of story.
“Are you Joe Beck?” she asked, and he’d give her credit. She might be a willowy thing, looking better suited to walk a runway than slum it here in this crappy apartment building, but she had backbone.
He paused for a second he didn’t have. Joe Beck had been an old alias, but he couldn’t remember ever dealing with this woman under any of his names.
He’d remember. He remembered faces. Besides, she was pretty. Always a pleasure to remember a pretty woman. But he couldn’t place this one, so there was no way he’d met her.
“Come on, we’ve got to get you out of here.” He moved for the guns, began to put them in his bag as she inched her way back toward the door. He’d let her go if she ran, but it’d be safer if he escorted her out.
Safer for her. Then again, maybe this strange woman would throw whoever was close off his scent. They’d be looking for one man, not a man and a woman.
Especially a woman who had legs like that and was wearing a billowy skirt that showed them off when she moved.
“Mr. Beck, I only need to refund you your money, and then I will be on my way.” She pulled an envelope from her purse and handed it to him.
He stared at it. Was this some kind of trap? “What the hell are you talking about?” But he didn’t give her a chance to answer because he got that feeling. The skin prickle at the back of his neck. That gut feeling that always kept him just one step ahead of the people who wanted him as dead as his mother.
He pulled the woman to the ground. He was about 90 percent sure she was an innocent bystander, so he’d protect her. But he’d also keep an eye on her because there was a 10 percent chance his gut was wrong. He covered her body with his.
She let out a little squeak of surprise from underneath him.
“I don’t know who you are, lady, but you sure walked into the wrong apartment complex.”
“My name is Mary Hudson,” she said, as if she was sitting behind a desk, or maybe in the front of a classroom, giving a lecture. “I am with Hudson Sibling Solutions. Now, you’re going to need to get off me.”
He was barely listening to her, though he was surprised at how still she remained rather than try to fight him off. He didn’t know if it was terror or sense that held her still, but right now it didn’t matter.
The shots would come. He knew they would.
As if on cue, the window shattered at one side of the apartment. Which gave him enough information to know where they’d storm his apartment from.
Time for the escape route. He rolled off her but pulled her with him. “Keep low,” he muttered, grabbing his bag from the table without standing up. She kept up. Clearly someone shooting his window out had not rendered her into the expected terrified mess.
He didn’t have time to wonder why that was. He could only grab what he needed and pull her with him to the back of the apartment. His rear window looked out over an alley, and he’d had this escape route planned for a few days now.
He tossed the bags out onto the little cushion he’d made behind some random-looking boxes and other alley debris the trash truck wouldn’t pick up. He unfurled the makeshift ladder he’d worked out how to attach to the windowsill so it could bear weight. They’d have to take it one at a time since he’d only tested it with his weight.
“You first,” he said, motioning for the ladder.
She looked out the window, then down the side of the building, then back at him. She opened her mouth to say something—likely an argument, or maybe she’d try to shove some money at him again, as if that made sense. But there was no time.
“Better hurry,” Walker urged. “They’ll figure it out soon enough and come around back.”
The woman firmed her mouth but listened, climbing down the rickety ladder. She definitely wasn’t dressed for it, and Walker couldn’t help but wish he were on the bottom of the ladder to catch the show, but as it was, he kept an eye on his front door.
Just as Mary took the last little jump onto the concrete below, a bullet crashed through the door.
Walker swung out and onto the ladder, going down as fast as he could, then jumping off the minute he was close enough to the ground not to break a leg. He gave the ladder a hard yank and it tumbled to the ground. He tossed it into the dumpster, then grabbed the woman’s hand and pulled her down the alley toward his car.
Well, one of his cars. One that fit in in this side of town.
She tugged her hand out from his grasp and stood next to the car. He kept expecting her to break into fear or panic, but she was filled with nothing but a cool kind of skepticism as she looked at his car. “I don’t believe I should go with you.”
“Maybe you’d like to go with the guys shooting at me instead?”
“Well, no.”
“Then get the hell in,” Walker said, sliding into the driver’s seat. He tossed his bags in the back—except one gun he put in the middle console for easy reach. The way he saw it, they had a minute, tops, before the bullets started again. “This car leaves in three seconds,” he told her before closing his door.
He thought she’d hesitate longer than three, but she was in the passenger side—and buckled of all things—in two. She clearly wasn’t pleased, but she still didn’t look scared. Walker shook his head, reminding himself that he’d have time to figure that out later. “Keep low,” he instructed. “They’re going to follow. Hold on.”
