Page 341 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

She gripped the door. “I’m being forced out and you know it.”

CHAPTER FOUR

The two women were seated at the table when Jacob walked in. The younger in a chair while the older lady had her wheelchair pushed up to the table. Even a cursory glance gave him the impression that these two were related to Mr. Harris, though neither shared his last name.

“Is that them?”

Jacob glanced over his shoulder and spotted the familiar face of his old friend, now police detective Hank Maxwell, in the doorway behind him. A fraction taller, which Hank had never let him forget. The guy had a scar on the underside of his jaw, was freshly shaven with his hair cut, wearing jeans and a button-down shirt—police badge on his belt. Brown Carhartt jacket. He was the only cop in Benson who dressed like he did construction instead of protect and serve.

Jacob looked back at the two women. “They seem like they’ll be nice enough.”

“Yeah, well. I’m planning on sticking around to find out either way.”

“That’s not why I told you this.”

Jacob figured that was just Hank being Hank. Overprotective, and good at his job. Jacob had called last nightto chew over everything. Apparently, Hank wanted to take the baton.

The two of them had been in high school together. Best friends at one point. Same classes. Same football team, though Jacob had been quarterback. Hank was what amounted to bestie for Jacob these days. That only meant he was one of the few people Jacob actually spoke to on a regular basis.

Not most people’s idea of close. It worked for Jacob to connect with a familiar face and didn’t have to face questions he had no intention of answering. Hank worked long and odd hours, so he’d answer when he could.

Jacob glanced back at Hank again. “Don’t you have people to harass?”

Hank knew exactly what Jacob had been through because he’d been there that night. Even though Jacob purposely didn’t think about any of that. Or the source of the scar on Hank’s face. They could still be friends even if Jacob didn’t want to think the wordvictimfor the rest of his life.

That wasn’t what he was. And his intention was that he never would be again.

Hank grinned. “Seems they frown upon that these days.” He glanced at his watch. “I do have to go soon. There’s some big shot fed set to show up in a couple of days, and the chief’s freaking out.”

“Huh.” Jacob didn’t exactly watch TV. He read the newspaper occasionally, but that was all local drama for the most part. So long as they didn’t dredge up the past like the national news when things got slow.

“Just don’t expect me to pay the bill for your breakfast.” Jacob headed for the table where the two women sat drinking from full mugs of coffee. There was also orange juice and water on the table. “Good morning. I am?—”

The younger woman looked up. Elaine Perkins. “I’ve lived in this town half my life. I know who you are.”

Outside the diner window two fire trucks and an ambulance sped down the street with their lights and sirens going.

Elaine was slightly older than him, maybe by few years. She might have even been living here during the time it all went down. Where for three years in a row, each homecoming dance, a couple from the senior class were abducted at the end of the night.

Three years that a dangerous killer had gripped this town by its throat. Until finally he was caught, the night he had taken four teens instead of two. Maybe that mistake, that deviation, was why Jacob and his friends were recovered.

No one had told him how they’d been found.

Jacob turned to the older woman and held out his hand. “Thank you for coming, Mrs. Perkins. I appreciate you giving me your time.”

Jennie Perkins put her crepey-skinned hand in his.

Before she could say anything, the younger woman butted in again. There was no other way to describe it. Especially given the almost belligerent expression on her face. Jacob wondered why she had even bothered to drive the older woman here.

“Not sure there’s too much to say about Carl Harris.” Elaine took a sip from her mug and said nothing else.

Jacob pulled out a chair and sat even though they hadn’t invited him to. He was the one who had asked them to meet him here.

Hank had settled at the counter on a barstool, chatting up the new waitress. So new, she had no idea what she was getting into with the detective. Hank had left a trail of broken hearts across the whole county for the last fifteen years. Never settling down. Some of his conquests had even left town.

“You want to ask me about my brother?” Jennie Perkins had distant eyes and false teeth.

“I’d imagine I might not be the first person to do so.”