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Cole’s reasons for going outside were twofold.

His heart broke when he’d watched Jo learn the truth about her friend.

He should have looked Becky up ahead of time to protect Jo—emotionally, that is.

So they could have been prepared for this.

The other reason was that he wanted to reassure himself they hadn’t been followed.

If Merrick had somehow figured out where they were going, they were in a position to get ambushed again.

They’d been here with Mrs. Stobbe longer than planned.

He was a fan of sticking to the schedule.

But he couldn’t have known that Becky Stobbe had passed away.

He wasn’t sure how that information had been lost on Jo as well, but maybe it had to do with the fact that she’d worked at the lodge for so long.

Cedar Trails was a place where there was no internet or cell service.

People quickly lost their need to constantly look up information on everything and everyone.

He pushed aside the morbid thoughts and focused on checking the perimeter of the house. Nothing in the quiet neighborhood appeared suspicious. He pulled his jacket tighter when snow started falling. Honestly, he’d expected the ground to be covered in the white stuff when they arrived.

Cole made his way around the back of the house that had a good forty feet between the neighboring houses, which was more distance than usual.

A tall wood fence defined the backyard and separated the neighbors’ yards.

He found his way into the fenced-in area and held his cell to his ear so Mrs. Stobbe wouldn’t become suspicious that he was scoping out her place.

Of course, he could always just explain that he was Jo’s protection, but neither of them wanted to leave Mrs. Stobbe disturbed or afraid.

Still, Jo’s murderous pursuer didn’t seem to have any qualms about taking down someone who was a witness to his crimes or who stood in the way. Nothing out of the ordinary jumped out at Cole, but he remained on guard. Stepping back into the house, he caught Jo coming down the stairs with a box.

Mrs. Stobbe emerged from the kitchen.

Jo shook her head. “I only found one box. I thought she’d taken several.”

“Oh dear. I’m sorry. Was there something specific you were looking for? This has to be so hard on you.” Mrs. Stobbe lowered her voice. “Is it ... safe now? I assume that you’re back and whatever danger you were in is gone.”

Cole cleared his throat. Now would be a good time to open that door.

Jo glanced between him and Mrs. Stobbe. “Well, not exactly. Cole is my protection.”

“You mean like a bodyguard?”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” Jo said.

Mrs. Stobbe appeared disturbed at the news and pursed her lips. She could be considering her own safety.

“We should get going,” he said. “We’ll take the box with us, if you don’t mind.”

Nodding her agreement, Jo handed him the box, he presumed so she could hug Mrs. Stobbe, and he took it.

Mrs. Stobbe wrapped her arms around Jo. “You come back to see me when you can. Promise?”

“I promise.” Jo stepped out of her arms and offered a sad smile.

A fist gripped Cole’s heart and squeezed.

“Please take care of yourself,” Jo said.

“Mrs. Stobbe, please contact either me or Jo if anyone else comes by to talk about Jo or Becky.” Cole handed her his business card.

She pressed her hand against her cheek. “Am I in danger?”

“I don’t believe you are,” he said, “but it doesn’t hurt to remain cautious.”

“I understand.” Mrs. Stobbe walked with them to the door. “Be safe, Jo. I’ll be praying for you.”

Jo was breathing hard by the time they were back in the rental vehicle, and this time Cole drove. He entered the address for the Lansing Police Department so the map system could direct them.

Then he steered away from the curb. “You okay?”

“I didn’t think that we could have brought the danger here. I mean, if someone was tearing through my apartment searching for something, maybe we shouldn’t have come.”

“We’ll let Detective Wilson know about our visit. In fact, I think we’ll just open the box while we’re there with him, in case we find a clue. Does that sound okay to you?” Cole still wasn’t sure what she hoped to find besides photo albums and memories, like she’d said.

“It could all be for nothing,” she said. “Anticlimactic. I’m starting to second-guess our trip here.”

Twenty-three minutes later, he parked.

Detective Wilson met them at the entrance, glanced inside the box for good measure, then guided them through the police headquarters to his office.

Filing cabinets lined the walls. Cold cases?

His desk was covered with documents and files.

Probably just as many digital files stored away as well.

He was just one lone investigator, but at least Mira’s case had been reactivated.

Jo sat down and put the box on the desk.

“Thanks for letting us open this here, Detective Wilson—I mean Rick. I have a question. It just hit me, really, so I hope you don’t mind.

” She glanced at Cole. “My mother’s death was considered an accident by your department.

How is it suddenly a cold case when it was never a case to begin with? ”

“Ah. Good question.” Rick adjusted his glasses.

“Fortunately, that’s easy to answer. When a case is deemed an accident and then new information comes to light, it’s redesignated.

Since this happened three years ago, it is now a reactivated cold case.

” He scrunched his face. “I hope that doesn’t sound confusing. ”

“No, it’s fine. It makes sense. Sort of,” Jo said.

Rick eyed the box she’d brought. “What’s in that?”

“I don’t know. It’s a box I left behind. My friend Becky Stobbe”—Jo’s voice cracked—“kept it for me. If you don’t mind, I’ll just look through this box before we get started.”

“Sure, I’ll grab some coffee and water.” Rick left them alone.

Jo hesitated, then pulled the top open to reveal knickknacks wrapped in newspaper. A small jewelry box. No, wait. It was a music box with a little ballerina.

Jo looked at it with love. “It plays the theme music from the movie Anastasia —‘Once Upon a December.’ I loved that movie. Mom got me the box. It’s hard for me to fathom that, even then, she was probably living in hiding under an alias.

” Jo sagged. “I never knew my biological father growing up, and now, I guess I never really knew my mother either.”

“That’s not true, Jo,” Cole said. “Your mother is who she is, no matter her name. No matter her job or where she lived. She loved you and built a life to support you and protect and nurture you. Look at you. You followed in her footsteps. If you think about it, everyone has a life ... a different life, even ... before they get married and have kids. You know? Just ask people who are into genealogy.”

She reached to the bottom of the box and pulled out two thick photo albums. His mom used to keep those physical photo albums too. Where were they now? Did Hawk have them stored somewhere? Did people still do that? He didn’t know. Jo held one of them against her chest, unshed tears in her eyes.

This had been a rough trip for her. Cole hated that.

“She was great at scrapbooking our life together,” Jo said. “Took lots of photographs of our vacations and every birthday.”

Finally, Jo started flipping through the pages to look at the photographs. “What am I doing? I can do this later.”

Jo had hoped to find something that had the potential to explain her mother’s death. While that was disappointing, he was relieved nothing else showed up to hurt Jo. She tried to force the photo album back into the box, and an envelope of more photos slid out.

Frowning, she snatched them up. “I haven’t seen these before.”

Rick returned, gripping a couple of mugs of coffee. Under his arm, he held two bottles of water.

“Let me help.” Cole grabbed the coffee mugs and set them on the desk.

Jo thumbed through the photos. “These are ... I don’t know where this is. They’re old. Before me.”

“What are we looking at?” Rick leaned against his desk and peered at the photos too.

“I found them in a box of my stuff from my apartment. I don’t remember ever seeing these before.” Jo gasped. “I don’t believe it.”

“What is it?” Cole asked.

Her hands shook. “Cole, this is it. This is what I was looking for. I didn’t know what I would find, but this has to be important.”

“Again, what are we looking at here?”

“It’s a photograph of Mom with Pop.” She peered closer.

Cole looked closer too, and Rick moved to stand over Jo’s shoulder.

“Where are they?” Rick asked.

“And who are the other people with them?” Knowing could get them somewhere.

“I think I recognize one of the men, though I can’t be sure,” Rick said. “This could be a much younger version of Mason Hyde.”

“I think you’re right,” Jo said. “Mason worked at Gemini Aerospace, and we don’t know where Pop worked, but they are all three in this picture, along with two other people I don’t recognize. This could be a personal picture or a work-related picture, in which case Mom also worked with them.”

Cole shared a look with Jo and Detective Wilson. “This is just more confirmation that it’s all connected.”

“To their past,” Jo said. “I still don’t know how any of it has to do with me.”

Cole was certain now if he hadn’t been before. Jo was kryptonite. She was leverage. Her father was still the key, and they needed to find him. If Naomi was able to answer questions, they could possibly find out more from her.

Rick shook his head. “I hate to tell you, but since we spoke via the videoconference, I’ve had another case take priority, and I can’t give this as much time as I wanted.”

“We’re just now getting somewhere with this. How could this not be a priority?” Cole asked.

“I figured I’d tell you when you got here that we tracked down Hyde’s vehicle.

Pulled it from a lake ten miles north of Lansing.

After the case was reopened, I dug through the original report that concluded your mother had lost control of her vehicle and it overturned in a flooded ditch.

I located the vehicle at a salvage yard and took another look and found what someone missed before.

Red paint on a black vehicle. We pulled OnStar records from three years ago and were able to locate Hyde’s vehicle in the lake.

The damage to his vehicle confirms the collision with your mother’s.

” His voice grew tense, his features tight.

“So, you believe Mason Hyde really is to blame?” Jo asked. “His sister believes he was set up. He knew my mother before, and this picture shows us that too. Something happened before. We have to find out what it was.”

Rick sighed. Removed his glasses and cleaned them with a tissue. “I’m inclined to agree with you, but since we have evidence that points to the suspected murderer and that man is now dead, my boss told me to consider the case closed. Again.”

“What?” Jo gasped.

“There’s a lot more going on here,” Cole said. “You know that.”

“This is my nightmare all over again. The police didn’t listen to me right after she was killed, and then I was in danger and had to run and hide. I’m still in danger because of whatever happened. The threats are still coming, even after Mason has died. What about the fact that he was murdered?”

“I hear you. But he was murdered in Washington, and authorities there have taken the lead. You no longer live in Michigan. So there’s that.

His case is connected to yours. Again, Washington.

” He put his glasses back on and lifted his palms. “I’m not saying that it’s not still on my radar, but I can’t put much time into it.

If you learn something new, something that can move the blame from Mason Hyde—the suspected murderer who, by the way, also had motivation—then I can try to convince my boss we need to reactivate it.

But for now, as far as the Lansing PD Cold Case Unit, we’re at the proverbial dead end. ”