Accidental Heiress (Welcome to Spartan Book 2) Read online

  My gut clenches, but I nod. He sits down and starts going over the packet while I set everything up, exactly the way he likes it with a general overview of the initial crime, all facts and evidence initially located and the final wrap-up. Behind that are pages and pages of notes made by Shamus and myself. “The blue ones are Shamus’s notes, and the red ones are notes I made based on my view of things.”

  He makes no comment as he sits there, reading meticulously and making notes on the pad I had sitting there for him.

  Hours pass by. My ass is numb, and I feel like I’m falling asleep. I’ve been working on this for weeks and I need sleep desperately, but I can’t get it out of my head.

  He clears his throat and looks at me. I sit up straighter in my chair look back at him, waiting.

  “I find it off that none of her fellow students at the time mentioned the attention that Wilson was giving her in any of the reports. And yet, they told you something totally different.”

  “They told me that they did tell Detective Marxs that information. He wrote it down as they told him, yet he didn’t put any of that in his reports.” Standing up, I start pacing.

  “I feel like you’re contradicting yourself in a lot of these notes. You say it feels personal, which I understand if Wilson’s house was covered with pictures of Jenny. But then you say it may be connected to something bigger. Why?”

  “This is where it gets complicated. I don’t think the crime itself was committed or planned by an organization. I think Professor Wilson Drake, OB/GYN, was a part of the organization, but I don’t think he sold the kids. Based on his obbsession with her, I think he has someone holding them. I didn’t make the connection until I looked into the lead detective on the case, Detective Marxs. His notes and the work he did on the case was so minimal, it was sick. Detective Marxs initially disregarded the connection to Wilson Drake multiple times. Shamus eventually went over his head and started investigating Wilson himself. That was how they caught him. Shamus told the chief that he follwed Wilson to a house that was not listed as his primary residence, and that he found what might be blood evidence. Wilson was out of town when they went there, and there was blood on the railings of the house. They got a search warrant and found the gun and surgical equipment that was used in the murder and kidnapping, but there was no mention of the pictures.”

  Sitting back down, I try and calm myself. Talking about all this, laying it all out there, is difficult.

  “One year ago, Detective Marxs was picked up on child pornography charges and the rape of a child. He’s in prison, serving a twenty-five to life sentence. They connected him to a sex trafficking ring that calls themselves the Skin Slingers. No one, at least as far as I can see, connected his involvement with the McCallister case to the Skin Slingers. After he was picked up, all his cases were reviewed by the district attorney and they found no cause to reopen the McCallister case.

  “What I was able to find is these organizations often employ, blackmail, or kidnap OB doctors which, as I noted, Wilson Drake was. So it stands to reason that he killed Jenny McCallister and took the kids. The Skin Slingers may or may not be holding the kids for him, but he is, or was, somehow connected to them, and Detective Marxs was trying his best to cover that connection up with shitty investigating.”

  He’s looking at me funny. I think he looks almost proud, in a way, and a bit surprised.

  “That’s a lot of ifs, Savannah.”

  “I was going to look into Wilson Drake a little deeper to find out if he has family that could be holding the kids, but I only have google searches. All the information I’ve found indicates that Wilson was an only child. He didn’t have any close friends and had cut ties with his family years prior to Jenny. The only reason I even brought up the Skin Slingers is because Wilson has to have inside information on them. I can see an organization like that holding the kids so he’ll keep his trap shut.”

  A pleased smile takes over his face. “Is there any ryhme or reason to these boxes?”

  My stomach jumps. He’s going to help me.

  “The boxes start at the top left. They’re the initial findings in the case and end at the bottom right of the stack. The other boxes are in my spare bedroom. The ones on the left side of the bed are Shamus’s original notes, along with the boxes on the right.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “They’re personal, like baby stuff, ultrasounds, books, and outfits. Things like that.”

  He nods his head. “Get some sleep, you look like shit. I’m going to comb through this, then the guys will be here first thing in the morning to haul what I feel needs to come to the office.”

  He turns back to the paperwork in front of him. I’m dismissed. Maybe now that I have Tristan’s support we can finally make some progress.

  “Savannah?” I stop and turn around. “You did good.”

  Smiling, I drag my tired ass to my bedroom. Kicking off my shoes, I fall on the bed and pass the fuck out.

  Amy

  It’s date night, and I’m nervous.

  This is my first official date, ever. Ali and Steven are here helping me prepare. I look like a ’50s pinup girl with this super cool, swoopy hairstyle.

  “All right, let's get you dressed.” Ali heads out to the living room, leaving me confused.

  “Ali, my dress is on the bed.”

  “Nope. Parker sent one.”

  “What do you mean, Parker sent one?”

  “Close your eyes and lose the shirt.”

  I unbutton my shirt and keep my eyes closed, even though I really want to peek. Ali helps me step into the dress and slide my arms in, then zips me up. I’m spun around, and Steven tells me to open my eyes. When I do they go wide, and I start giggling. The pale pink dress with a stunning lace overlay is breathtaking. It has a high-neck square collar and flirty cap sleeves.

  “It’s so pretty! I look like I should be on Leave It to Beaver or something.”

  “Okay, Amy Lou, we’re heading out. Parker should be here in ten minutes or so. Have fun!”

  I get air kisses from them both, and then I’m standing there, staring at the mirror in total shock. Parker’s good at this. The dress was a total surprise, and I love it.

  The doorbell rings and I smooth my hands down my dress. Grabbing the little purse Ali let me borrow, I open the door and burst out laughing. Parker has on high top Chuck Taylors, jeans with a wide cuff at the bottom, a simple brown belt, and an orange and yellow checkered button up shirt with a white undershirt. His hair’s got a ton of gel and is combed to the side.

  He leans in and kisses me before pulling out the prettiest bunch of daisies from behind his back.

  “Thank you, Parker. They’re beautiful, and I love my dress.” I give a little twirl and the pale pink skirt flares out. I just want to keep spinning.

  “Let me put these in water and we can go.”

  He grabs my wrist before I can go and clears his throat, looking kind of nervous.

  “You look so stunning in that dress. You’re beautiful in anything, really, but that dress…it just does it for me in a big way.” He leans down and gives me an Eskimo kiss. Seriously, every time he does that, my heart melts into a pile of goo.

  He takes me outside and I squeal when I get a load of the classic car sitting in my driveway. “It’s a 1953 Chevy, and I borrowed it for the night from Paul.”

  “This is aces.”

  “You ready to head off to our first stop?”

  He opens the door for me and I slide into the car. I’m so excited, I’m bouncing in my seat. Parker gets in and we’re off.

  “All right, pretty girl, the first stop is dinner at Thelma’s Plate.”

  I feel like my heart is going to beat right out of my chest. I’m so shocked that he went to all this trouble to give me this perfect first date.

  We pull up in front of Thelma’s and I wait for Parker to come around and open my door. When we make our way inside, my eyes widen, and I can’t help but burst into tears.

  It’s not just Park
er, it’s the whole damn town that made this a magical night. Thelma’s looks completely different. It looks like a restaurant straight out of the ’50s, and every patron is dressed like Parker and me.

  We take a seat in a booth and Parker slides in next to me. I turn to kiss him and he smiles against my lips.

  “What’s next? I mean, after we eat. I can’t wait.”

  “All in due time, my sweet.”

  The dinner and conversation is perfect, and I find out more information about his parents, Judy and Marshall. He has an older sister, Andrea, and a brother-in-law that he’s not a big fan of. There’s some big party at the end of the month and he wants to take me to meet his parents. This gives me a mild panic attack, but I brush it off because nothing is going to ruin this night.

  I tell him that I want to start my own little seamstress company. It was one of my favorite things to do growing up that my mom taught me. Mom was so good at it, and she passed that knowledge down to me.

  Once dinner is over, we get back into the car and I take Parker's hand. I’m so pumped to see where we’re going to next.

  My brow furrows when he pulls up outside of Willow Park, which is one of my favorite places in the whole town. The entire park is packed with tons of willow trees, where the swaying branches are long and brush the ground. I expect him to park in the parking lot, but he drives right over to where there are a couple long planks and I squeal in surprise. He chuckles, and I turn to stick my tongue out at him.

  Looking forward again, I see a large white sheet of some kind hanging from a tree, the one he carefully pulls up under. The whole car, except for the windshield, is covered in willow branches. As if it couldn’t get any better, he jumps out and puts the top down.

  The branches overhead fill the space above us. He bends over and there are overhead strands of white Christmas lights lit up.

  There’s a weird speaker of some kind that he pulls out next, then he gets back in and pulls me over so I’m sitting right next to him on the big bench seat.

  He looks at me and wipes the tears I didn’t realize were falling. “I love you, Amy Rain.”

  He kisses me, making me breathless. This man has stolen my heart. The kiss goes on forever, and I can feel the love he has for me in it. It’s all-consuming and tender.

  A sudden sound makes me jump. Looking up, I see there’s a movie playing on the sheet.

  “Oh, my gosh, Parker! This is a drive-in!”

  He laughs and snuggles me closer. I look up and run my finger across his jaw. “I love you too, Parker, so much. Tonight was a dream comes true. I could never imagine a date like this.”

  “Say it again.”

  “I love you.”

  This wonderfully romantic man has shown me so much love tonight. He’s shown me that he’s a hopeless romantic and a champion date organizer. Most of all, he’s shown me that he’s my soulmate and my future. And darn if it doesn’t look bright—so bright, it’s blinding.

  Shiitake Mushroom

  Parker

  This day sucks. Today is the day that the coroner is exhuming Amy’s mother. At first, Amy wanted to be here, but as the day went on, she said she just couldn’t do it. The coroner gently told her that the level of decomposition after six years would be significant, and the thought of seeing her mother as nothing but bones was overwhelming.

  The crew just got started a couple hours ago, and me, Michael Jefferies, and the coroner are standing off to the side. I’m anxious and nervous. I just want to get this over with so I can get home and hold my girl.

  My phone beeps with a text from Tanner. We used to have two full-time officers, but when George retired, I just didn’t make the time to hire someone permanent. At the time, I was a single guy with not much going on, socially speaking, and the need for someone else in this sleepy town just wasn’t needed. If I needed a night off here or there, I usually called Tanner and he would cover.

  I called him up last night to offer him that position. It would give him more flexibility in his hours now that he has his daughter full-time.

  Tanner: I’ve thought about your offer and decided to accept. I spoke to my ex-wife last night and she’s decided to stay and live with some douche she met on her cruise. So, my daughter is with me for good.

  Parker: That’s awesome, man. There’s a ton of available properties around here.

  Tanner: Thanks, and I’ll look into it. I’m going to talk to my boss, find out how long they’ll need me for before they find my replacement. I’ll let you know.

  Shoving my phone back in my pocket, I glance over in the direction of the men digging. Mike clears his throat and looks over at me. “Did Amy have an idea of how deep she was buried?”

  “She said that when she helped her dad bury her, she was about four and a half feet tall, give or take, and it was just a bit above her head, so I guess about five feet, give or take.”

  “All right. So based on the general symptoms that Amy told me about, my guess is that it was probably pancreatic cancer. There’s really no way to know for sure. The survival rate for pancreatic cancer, even in patients who are treated, is extremely low. Usually, about the only thing they can do is treat the symptoms with pain medications and such. I think that helped Amy some. I got the sense that she felt guilt over not helping more in some way.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  “I’m going to head over and supervise for a bit. Let them know the estimated depth.”

  I head over to my truck and get in the cab. I need to give my asshole brother-in-law a call to see if he tracked down any information.

  “Deputy Doolittle.”

  “Not today, Todd. Do you have anything in that case I was asking you about?”

  “I was actually going to call you later tonight about that. Something is definitely going on. About two months ago, a petition was filed in an attempt to declare one Alexandria Sarah Maria Hampden deceased in absentia. The petition was filed by Marcus Hampden. Good old Marcus is the younger brother to Alexandria. He’s a nasty fucker who just got out of the state pen for a weapons charge.”

  I thump my head on the back of the seat. This shit just got even more complicated.

  “Here’s another thing. When I got his address and followed him, he met up with the receptionist that works at the law firm handling the will.”

  “Shit.”

  “I haven’t been able to get a copy of the will yet. I have no reason really for requesting it.”

  “Alexandria was Amy's mother, and she’s been deceased for almost six years. Currently, I’m sitting in my truck as the coroner exhumes Alexandria's body so the death can be filed.”

  “Holy fucking hell. The estate, not including land and properties, are worth millions.”

  “Amy’s going to flip out. She went from living in a tent in the woods, to possibly being a millionaire. Most people would be fucking ecstatic, but Amy’s going to feel overwhelmed with all of it.”

  “I have a feeling that as soon as she steps forward, Marcus won’t take very well to it. You’ll need to guard her and guard her close. Like I said, he’s shady as fuck. If I can find something on him to take him down, I will. On the other side of the coin, if he doesn’t gain access to this with the debt he owes to the not so legal entities, he’s as good as dead.”

  “I was searching for the last name of Rain because that’s Amy’s legal last name. Did you find any marriage certificates, or anything for Alexandria?”

  “Nope. There was, however, a complaint of trespassing and assault for a Mister Timothy Rain right about the time a missing persons report was filed for Alexandria. From what I can gather, they were a classic tale of young love—a rich girl and a boy from the wrong side of the tracks. The missing persons report was dropped after she made contact, letting her family know that she was staying with Tim and not to look for her.”

  “This would be why no one knows that Amy is technically a Hampden heiress.”

  “Yup.”

  “Shit. Ok
ay, I got to go. The coroner is waving me over.”

  “Catch you later, Deputy Douche.”

  I swear, I’m going to punch that asshole next time I see him. As I get out of the truck, I see them lowering the basket down. Fuck, that was quicker than I thought.

  With all this new information, I don’t know what to do. I want to wait until after the service for her mother, but something tells me that the sooner we get this process over with, the sooner we can get back to normal. I don’t like the danger swirling around this shitstorm at all, not one fucking bit.

  Amy

  My eyes feel like swollen grapes. Roger and Ali are driving us back from the funeral home after making the final arrangements for my mother.

  The coroner, Michael, said that he should be able to release the remains in about a week, so next Friday is the day. My mother will be laid to rest next to my father. The ceremony will be a beautiful affair, something I know she would have hated, but I feel she deserves it.

  She was a wonderful mother; sometimes stern and unforgiving. I always got the feeling that she was scared of something. What that was, she never shared with me.

  We pull into Bailey’s, because if there was ever a day for day drinking, today is the day. When we get out of the car, it takes a minute for the bellowing and screeching to register through the fog of grief.

  We all look at each other and run into the bar. It takes a minute to understand what’s happening. Bruce and Paul are slap boxing in the middle of the bar like teenage girls. Bruce is wearing hot pink leggings, and has Ziploc bags full of ice duct taped to his chest.

  The giggles start slow, then morph into hysterical laughter. Paul, for his part in this fiasco, is in a pair of gray knit boxers that look like an elephant. There’s a special pouch of some sort for his penis that looks like a trunk.

  “Give me your best friend card. I’m dropping your ass as my bestie, Paul.”

  More geriatric slap boxing commences. Paul’s pecker is flapping around in his boxers, and I swear I’m laughing so hard, I’m going to pee my pants.