Murder at Black Lake

  Murder at Black Lake

  Anne Patrick

  Murder at Black Lake

  Copyright © 2015 by Anne Patrick. All rights reserved.

  Editors: Shawna K. Williams, Sydney Morgan, and Jan Carol

  Cover Design by Melody Simmons of eBookindiecovers

  ISBN-13: 978-1515171997

  ISBN-10: 151517199X

  Licensing Notes:

  This book is protected by Federal copyright laws. All rights are reserved and it is illegal to copy, scan, or in any way mechanically or digitally reproduce this book except for brief passages used in reviews and related articles. Requests for other uses should be directed to the author or publisher for written permission.

  Murder at Black Lake is a work of fiction. Names, characters, locations, and incidents are the products of the author‘s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Bible references used in Murder at Black Lake

  Isaiah 40:31 (NIV)

  Philippians 4:13 (NIV)

  Luke 23:34 (NIV)

  Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV® Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to my wonderful readers.

  Thank you so much for your love and support, and for joining me on this amazing journey!

  CHAPTER ONE

  Hairs prickled on the back of Jamie Riedel's neck, the surrounding woods fueling the overbearing fear that slowly crept into every pore of her body. Most people would find the joyful sound of birds chirping and the gentle rush of water from the spring-fed Eden Creek calming, even peaceful. But the forest sounds couldn't quell the unease building inside Jamie. With each step she took into the forest, painful memories rushed at her. Fourteen years ago, these woods nearly became her grave.

  Mustering every ounce of strength, Jamie forced herself to continue down the once well-traversed path now covered with downed limbs and spidery plant vines of what she hoped were the non-poisonous variety. As a child, this forest was her sanctuary, an oasis she would escape to when her home life became unbearable. Lazy summer days were spent frolicking with friends through the groves of spruce, alpine, fir, and pine trees. The explorers of Eden Forest, they had called themselves. Daredevils. Nothing ever frightened them . . . Until that fateful August night that shattered Jamie's whole existence.

  That night had almost destroyed her. Almost.

  Jamie sucked in a long breath, attempting to still her nerves. It didn't work. "This is such a bad idea. What in the world was I thinking coming here?"

  She turned to head back to the trailhead and stopped dead in her tracks.

  Up ahead, less than fifty yards; a flash of black caught her attention.

  Adrenaline soared through her body. The sound of her heart echoed in her ears. She willed her feet to move backwards, but it was as if they were cemented to the ground. Paralyzed with fear, she blinked as her eyes locked onto the area of trees where she had seen movement.

  It's just your imagination. There's no one else out here. It was most likely a deer.

  Still, she couldn't bring herself to move.

  Jamie knew the man responsible for her nightmares was dead. He died in prison six months ago.

  The crack of a branch to her right drew her eyes in that direction.

  She wasn't imagining anything. Someone else was in these woods.

  Every fiber of her body warned her to run. But to where? If she ran back to the trailhead, she would be running right past whoever was here with her. She turned to the north, the direction she had been heading before she was overcome with panic. Eventually, she would reach Black Lake, where she and her father had camped that weekend. Where he was murdered and she was left for dead. No. Her best bet was to head east, toward Emerald Mountain. At the foot of it lay old man Porter's cornfield—providing he still farmed the area. Even if he didn't, the dirt logging road that ran along beside it led to the highway.

  Jamie sucked in another long breath to still her anxiety. "I can do this. Just a little further."

  Before she took another step, a male voice called out her name.

  Her heart slammed against her chest. Instead of running, her first instinct, she searched the ground for something she could use as a weapon. A three-foot branch lay to her right. She snatched it and whirled around.

  "Whoa, careful with that." The uniformed man held up his hands as he took a step back.

  He wore khaki, not black, so it wasn't him she had seen moments ago.

  A grin spread across his lips. "It's me, Gage Hansen. I know it's been awhile."

  Fourteen years to be exact. A blush crept to Jamie's cheeks and she quickly tossed the branch aside. "Sorry." She blew out a long breath and took in the welcomed sight of her childhood friend. At six-feet, he had a handsome, well-defined face framed by short locks of wavy brown hair that came to the collar of his shirt, and his muscular body filled out his uniform rather nicely, she mused.

  "I thought for sure I was seeing things when I saw you from the trailhead."

  "A ghost from your past."

  "Something like that." He sank his hands into his front pockets. "I suppose you're here to settle up your mom's estate?"

  Some estate. Jamie would have to invest a small fortune just to get the house and property ready to sell. "I should have taken care of it months ago, but I kept putting it off."

  "I imagine you've had a lot on your plate lately, what with your last movie doing so well. I'm surprised to see you didn't bring an entourage with you."

  She couldn't tell if he meant to tease her or was being sarcastic. Up until a year ago, she was lucky to land a leading role in a low-budget film. Since Target on Her Back became a blockbuster, earning her a coveted Oscar along the way, she received offers right and left. Now, according to her agent, Jamie Sutton was one of Hollywood's hottest actresses-in-demand. "No one knows I'm here and I would prefer to keep it that way." The tabloids loved to sink their teeth into juicy stories, and if one ever got wind of hers they would have a field day.

  Gage cocked his head to one side. "I'll keep my trap shut on one condition."

  "Which is?"

  "You follow me back to Mom's. I know she'd love to see you, and I was just about to go on my lunch break."

  Jamie considered his offer. She had planned to pay Mrs. Hansen a visit while in town. Now seemed as good a time as any. One thing was certain; she didn't want to spend another minute in these woods. "I'd love to."

  As they walked back to the trailhead, Jamie stole a glance at her one-time best friend. He had grown up nicely. Through the years, she'd had many friends but none like Gage and his sister, Mallory. "How are your folks?"

  "Dad died four years ago from a massive heart attack. Mom is doing well, though."

  "I'm so sorry, Gage. I didn't know."

  "Thanks." His answer sounded curt, maybe even laced with a little bitterness.

  A pang of guilt hit Jamie. Through the years, she had occasionally thought of calling the Hansens. Now she wished she had. The family was a huge part of her childhood. Most of her fond memories involved them in one way or another: the adventurous outings with the Hansen children; the family dinners to which she had always been invited. She'd eaten over at their house as often as she had her own. 'What's one more mouth to feed,' Mr. Hansen had often said. They'd made her feel so welcomed in their home that she used to imagine they were her real family. Then, like the memories surrounding her father's murder, they no longer existed in her world. Gage had every right to be bitter.

  ***

  Gage checked his rearvie
w mirror to make sure the black Tahoe was still behind him. Who would've guessed that skinny little girl in pigtails would grow up to be a famous movie star? Of course, if he was honest with himself, he'd always thought she was talented and cute. She had taken the lead in every school play he could remember. A tomboy, much like his sisters were at the time, she could've taken on either him or Carter in a fistfight and likely won. A fearless burst of pure energy he'd had a secret crush on since the first grade.

  He shook the notion from his head and concentrated on his driving. Neither of them was the same person as back then. She was making her mark on the world, and he no longer fell prey to the feminine wiles of beautiful women. A painful divorce had cured him of that.

  He turned off the highway onto Whittaker Road, drove another mile, and pulled into the drive of his childhood home. The two-story farmhouse needed a new coat of white paint, and if all went according to plan, it would have it by the end of summer. He had the paint, he just had to wait until he could corral his siblings together all in one weekend and get it done.

  Gage parked his cruiser between the house and barn and got out. His mom's German Shepherds barked from the front porch, then came down to greet him.

  Jamie stopped her Tahoe beside him and he walked over and opened the door for her. She slid her five-ten, slender frame from the driver's seat and stood, tucking a long strand of russet hair behind her right ear. "Who's the welcoming committee?"

  Gage was about to answer when her cellphone rang.

  She retrieved it from her back pocket, hit a button, then dropped it onto the seat and shut the door. Smiling, she knelt and began to pet the dogs. "They're gorgeous. What are their names?"

  "Bonnie and Clyde. Bonnie is the darker one." Gage was surprised by the obvious attraction. The dogs were usually more guarded around strangers. "Do you have any dogs?"

  "I wish. I spend so much time away from home, it's not a good idea." Still petting the dogs, Jamie glanced toward the house. "This place brings back so many good memories."

  He was glad of that. Even before her father's murder, she hadn't had a very good childhood. Her mom was a drunk and her dad worked all the time just to avoid coming home. "Come on." Without thinking, he took her hand. The warmth of the embrace tethered to the smile she tossed him, made his heart race.

  "Oh my heavens," Stella Hansen called out, "Jamie Riedel." She threw the screen door back and stepped onto the porch. "Or should I call you by your stage name, Ms. Sutton?"

  "Please don't." She turned loose of Gage's hand and ran up the steps and wrapped her arms around his mom. "It is so good to see you."

  "I was hoping to see you at your mama's funeral, but I guess I can understand why you didn't come."

  In Stella’s fifty-nine years, Gage doubted there was ever a day went by when she didn’t speak what was on her mind. Subtle she wasn’t.

  Jamie bit down on her bottom lip. Sensing her discomfort, Gage moved ahead of the women and got the door. "I hope you've got lunch ready, Ma. I sure am hungry."

  "You're always hungry." Stella took hold of his chin and gave it a good yank. "Come on in, Jamie. There's more than enough for three."

  "Thank you, but I don't want to impose. I'll just have a glass of your sweet tea."

  "Nonsense. You're going to have lunch with us, and I'm not taking no for an answer."

  "You'd be better off to do as she says. She's as stubborn as ever."

  "I heard that, Gage."

  Gage and Jamie exchanged smiles as they followed Stella down the hall to the kitchen.

  He quietly ate his roast beef sandwich and listened half-heartedly as the women visited. Occasionally, he'd steal a glance at Jamie. He knew it had taken a lot of courage for her to come back here, and Gage admired her for that. No one could really blame Jamie for not showing up at her mother's funeral. Rita Riedel had more or less kicked Jamie out of her home soon after her father's funeral, sending Jamie with her grandmother to live in California. As far as he knew, the two had never spoken after that.

  What was she doing in those woods, though? And why choose now to come back? He recalled how shaken she appeared when he came upon her on the trail. Had he not been wearing his uniform or identified himself, no doubt she would have taken his head off with that branch. The fire he saw in those dark eyes of hers reminded him of the spitfire he knew as a kid.

  "I take it you've come back to put your mom's place on the market?"

  "That's part of the reason I'm here. It's going to take more work than I had counted on, though. I have an electrician and plumber from Greensburg coming by Wednesday to give me some estimates."

  "It's too bad Rita let the place get so run down. I'm sure she got a good salary at the courthouse, but then I don't know what her financial responsibilities were. Our missions committee at church offered to help a couple of times, but she refused."

  "She had Dad's insurance money unless she managed to drink it all away." Bitterness coated Jamie's words as she stirred in the chair across from Gage.

  Stella reached over and covered Jamie's hand with her own. "Your mama did you wrong, there's no doubt about that. Hating her for it isn't going to do you any good, though."

  "I know." Jamie smiled at Stella. "That's the other reason I'm here. A wise man recently told me it's only when you embrace your past that you can truly move forward."

  So that's why Jamie was here. Why she was in those woods today. She's looking for closure. Gage prayed she'd find it. She deserved it.

  "And just who is this wise man? A boyfriend maybe?"

  "No. My agent back in L.A. His name is Tommy Logan. You'd like him. He reminds me of Mr. Hansen."

  "Well, I like him already then." Stella stood and grabbed the pitcher of sweet tea. "More tea, sweetheart?"

  "No, Ma. I need to get back to work. Chief Brody had back surgery and is on sick leave for another six weeks, so I'm covering for him." He stood and gave his mom a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for lunch."

  "You're welcome." She wrapped her arm around his. "Gage made deputy chief last year. We're so proud of him."

  "Stop it, Ma." Jackson Ridge had both a sheriff's department and a county police department that served its eight thousand residents and Gage was one of twenty full-time law enforcement employees.

  Jamie smiled at him. "Congratulations."

  "Thanks, Jamie. It was good seeing you. Don't be a stranger while you're here. Our doors are always opened."

  "You know, son, I was just thinking." Stella looked at Jamie then back at him. "You've done some electrical and plumbing. Maybe you could have a look at Jamie's house."

  "Yeah, I could do that. As long as it's nothing too major, I'm sure I could get the job done."

  "Oh, no. I mean I appreciate the offer, but I'm sure you're busy and I don't want to put you out."

  "You're not afraid I'll burn down your house, are you?" he teased.

  "No, of course not."

  "If it eases your mind any, I'm a licensed electrician."

  "Then it's settled." Stella put an end to further discussion.

  Gage exchanged cellphone numbers with Jamie and promised to drop by when he got off at six to have a look.

  When Gage turned out of the drive, he noticed an old grey pickup truck pull away from the side of the road and head east. Uneasiness settled in the pit of his stomach. He checked the dashboard clock and saw he was already ten minutes late relieving Derek, one of the other officers on duty today.

  It's probably nothing. The driver could have been turning around or had stopped to take a call. Gage continued toward the highway, checking his rearview mirror until the truck disappeared from his view.

  ***

  Mrs. Hansen invited Jamie into the living room. Unlike her mother's house, that still had the same furniture she remembered from when she was a child, the Hansens had updated their decor. Stella took a seat on the tan sofa and patted the cushion beside her.

  Jamie joined her. "Gage told me earlier about Mr. Hansen's death. I'm so
sorry. I wish I had known. Now his funeral, I would have come to."

  "I'm sure you would've." Stella smoothed back a strand of her short salt and pepper hair. "Honestly, we didn't even think of letting you know. Or even that you'd want us to."

  Stella's comment reminded Jamie of how inconsiderate she had been. She knew she could never make up for it but wanted to at least explain. "I hope you know I never . . . I mean, I'm sorry I haven't kept in touch. When Mom shipped me off to California with Grandma, I was mad at the world and everyone in it. I wanted to forget all about Jackson Ridge."

  "Sweetheart, you have nothing to apologize for. We understood. What happened to you up at Black Lake was an unfathomable tragedy. You had a lot to deal with. More than any child ever should."

  Desperate to change the subject, Jamie glanced over at the array of family photos lining a shelf. "So what has everyone been up to?"

  "Well, Eve and her husband are both in the Navy. They live in Rhode Island. Carter is also married. He and his wife, Samantha, have two kids, four and six. They're in Casper, where he manages a ranch for his father-in-law. And Mallory is a second-grade schoolteacher here in town."

  Wow. Suddenly Jamie's accomplishments seemed pale in comparison. Carter was Gage's identical twin brother. It was hard to imagine him with a family. He was her first crush. Her first kiss. At thirteen, it wasn't really much of a kiss. Still, it had sent her heart racing.

  "How about you?" Stella leaned back, crossing her legs. "I sure hope there isn't any truth to all those magazine stories I've read about you."

  Jamie cringed. "That would depend on which ones you're referring." She would be the first to admit she had done some things she wasn't proud of to get to where she was now. Like accepting parts in films with vulgar language and gratuitous violence. "For the most part, I've kept my morality in check. The majority of what is printed about me is basically fabricated stories, with only a thread of truth to them."