The Girls Across the Bay

  The Girls Across the Bay

  Knox and Sheppard #1

  Emerald O’Brien

  Copyright © 2017 by Emerald O'Brien

  * * *

  Cover designed by Alora Kate of Cover Kraze

  Interior designed by The Write Assistants

  First edit by Roxane Leblanc

  Final edit by Mountains Wanted Publishing

  * * *

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any events, locales, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. Printed in the United States of America.

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  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty One

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Chapter Thirty Six

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  Chapter Thirty Eight

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Emerald

  About the Author

  For Eileen

  Kindred spirit, story-teller, poet, and great aunt.

  And of course, for Brian too.

  You bet your pretty neck I do.

  Chapter One

  “Strike two, Knox,” Ornella Roth said, crossing her thin arms over her chest and leaning back in the chair behind her desk. “There’s always something going on in Tall Pines to report on. When it seems like there’s no news, you dig deeper. Thane’s working under the same conditions you are, and his story about the boat thief down at the Marina made the front page.”

  “This is a good story.” Madigan jabbed her finger onto the article on the desk. “I stand behind it one-hundred percent. Lower-income families can’t afford the cost of school lunches, and the students of Tall Pines Elementary shouldn’t have to feel ashamed of the fact they can’t be served a hot lunch. There has to be some sort of subsidizing. This story needs to be told, Ornella, and it needs to be seen.”

  “I told you, I need front page news,” Ornella said. “If you want to keep writing these human-interest stories, I’ll put you back in the entertainment section.”

  Madigan clenched her jaw and stared down at her boss.

  I need to keep my job. I need to keep my job, Madigan reminded herself.

  Ornella pushed the article further away from her.

  “Your writing could use some improvement as well, mind you. You need to keep your personal voice out of it. The media needs to be unbiased. How many times do I need to remind you of that? I can’t have another article of yours where allegations are made and only one side of the story is considered—like that one about Tall Pines Nursing Home. You didn’t even contact them for a comment.”

  Madigan’s cheeks flushed, knowing Ornella had a point about her writing. The sting of criticism hit her hard, bringing back memories of the critiques on her last article. She had barely graduated from her journalism program at the local college, and if Ornella had bothered to check her marks, she might not have gotten the job at all.

  She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and avoided eye contact.

  The media is biased. Everyone is.

  Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

  “You show me front page news and I’ll give you another chance,” Ornella sighed. “But for now, you’re back to the local entertainment section. Help Thane out when he asks. Got it?”

  She didn’t want to believe she’d been demoted purely based on her writing skills, or lack thereof. She found it easier to be angry at the politics of the Tall Pines Gazette and more specifically, Ornella Roth. She played to the politicians of Amherst, the neighbouring city, and ruffled the least amount of feathers while pushing their agenda.

  “Fine.” Madigan frowned. “But I’m taking my story to Cindy, right?”

  Madigan had already promised her contact at Tall Pines Elementary she would bring the issue to light. The look on the lunch woman’s face had almost brought tears to her eyes.

  When she’d lived in her first foster home during the worst years of her life, she’d often gone to school hungry. At the age of seven, she’d been more embarrassed than hungry. She pretended her foster mom had forgotten to pack her a lunch, opting to hide in the washroom, which kept her under the radar of both students and teachers more often than not.

  “Ornella,” Madigan said, “please?”

  “Why bother?” Ornella asked, wiggling her mouse. The white glare of the computer screen illuminated her face, revealing the shadows of fine lines across her cheeks. “It’s hardly news at all. It’s a throw-away.”

  Ornella slid the papers Madigan had printed over the side of the desk, letting them fall into her trash can.

  Madigan clenched her fists into balls, her heart pounding faster by the second while Ornella kept her eyes on the computer screen.

  Those kids need help.

  You need this job. You need this job.

  Screw it.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Madigan shook her head and walked backwards toward the door. “So much for bringing attention to what’s actually important in this town. We wouldn’t want to change anything, now, would we?”

  “I sell papers people will actually read,” Ornella said. “Not sad stories for the sake of depressing people or embarrassing the mayor.”

  An embarrassment. That’s what she thinks it is. Like I’m airing dirty laundry.

  “This isn’t an embarrassment,” Madigan said. “This is bringing some hard facts to light. This is a story the parents of Tall Pines will want to hear. I promised the lunch staff I would report on this.”

  “You know not to make promises when you haven’t run something past me first. This whole story came out of left field. You were told to get me front page news.”

  There it was. She’s upset it was something she had no control over. No guiding voice before the story had been written.

  I shouldn’t have made a promise.

  But I did.

  “What do I have to do?” Madigan asked.

  Find the flaw, Madigan.

  Her first foster father’s words echoed in her mind through all the years after she and her sister had been taken from their house and split into different ones.

  Find their weakness and use it to your advantage—one of the first things he’d taught them about manipulating people into doing whatever you wanted. He took advantage of their naivety and made it into a game at first, but when he brought them into
their first cons, he expected them to use the tricks he had taught them.

  It wasn’t until her last year in the house that she realized he had done the same to them, and since, with each weakness she found, almost without trying, she’d note a strength, too.

  “What do I have to do to make sure the story’s included in Monday’s issue?” Madigan asked. “It’s important to those kids. No child should have to hide in the bathroom because they don’t have a lunch.”

  Her cheeks burned as she folded her arms in front of her.

  Maybe that’ll tug on her heart strings as a mother.

  Madigan had found motherhood to be Ornella’s strength and weakness as soon as she found out she had a son.

  “Get me something good.” Her manicured nails clicked away at the keyboard. “Something that will keep our readers turning the pages. You’ve got until Sunday at midnight.”

  “I can do that.”

  What will make Ornella sit up and take notice?

  A crime, maybe?

  Something big. It has to be big.

  “Go on, then,” Ornella said.

  “Thank you, Ornella.”

  “Make it good, Knox. This is your last chance.”

  “I will.” Madigan walked backwards out the door.

  “And fix the attitude,” Ornella called, not bothering to look away from her computer screen. “And for Pete’s sake, close the door behind you.”

  Madigan closed the door and marched down the hall as Cindy poked her head up from her cubicle.

  “I think it’s a good story,” Cindy said in her mousy voice.

  Madigan stopped in front of her. “You heard all that?”

  Cindy shook her head, but Madigan raised her eyebrow with a smile, cocking her head to the side, and Cindy nodded, glancing in the direction of Ornella’s office.

  “Don’t be afraid of her, Cin.”

  “I’m not,” Cindy whispered.

  “Those kids deserve better,” Madigan said. “I made a promise. I’m going to do whatever it takes. Do you know of anything going on this weekend?”

  Cindy shook her head. “I bet if Thane handed in that same story, it’d already be on my desk for edits for the front page.”

  “Probably.” Madigan tapped her fingers along the cubicle divider. “I’ll make sure she runs this story, then I’m back to covering craft fairs and store openings. It’s just as well. Nothing ever happens around here anyway.”

  “Don’t give up—on the kids or the front page. It might take some time, but she’ll come around. You’ve got a great eye for detail, and you bring heart to this paper.”

  Madigan’s cheeks flushed and the compliments made her even less comfortable than the criticism of her writing she’d just received. It would take days, maybe weeks, to put Ornella’s words out of her mind.

  Another writing class might do the trick.

  “Okay, enough with the flattery,” Madigan said. “It’s tough to get to the story first when Thane’s got the scoop.”

  “He has connections,” Cindy said.

  So will I, she thought, wondering how her sister’s first day on the job was going.

  Grace just needs to gain her confidence back.

  “By the way, you actually picked a winner.” Cindy smiled. “Roy was a gentleman, just like you said. A little rough around the edges, what with the cursing and all, but I’m letting him take me on a second date.”

  “I knew you’d like him.”

  “Thanks for setting us up,” Cindy said, sliding her glasses on. “You were right, I just needed to get back out there.”

  “Ladies,” Thane said in his deep voice as he strode past them toward Ornella’s office. “Beat you for the cover again, Knox. Man, you make it too easy.”

  A tall black man, always dressed in one of three suits, Thane had ruled the front page for two decades. Probably longer.

  “Some real hard-hitting journalism with that boat scandal,” Madigan said, smirking.

  Thane straightened his tie and ran his fingers over his smooth chin. “And yet it’s good enough to beat whatever story you conjured up last minute.”

  He strode past them into Ornella’s office and shut the door behind him.

  If it had been a last-minute story, she wouldn’t have felt so offended, but it had been her only focus that week.

  “He’s so smug.” Cindy shook her head. “Ignore him. You’ll get the front page, Madigan, and when you do, we’ll have to stick it to him.”

  Madigan nodded and sauntered down the short hall toward her cubicle.

  Does she really believe that?

  “Hey, tell Roy he owes me some drinks for finding him a catch, alright?” Madigan said over her shoulder.

  “Will do!”

  As she plopped down in her chair, she stared at her cell phone on the desk.

  I’m dying to know how it’s going, but she won’t be able to respond anyway.

  She grabbed her phone and hit Grace’s name, running her left finger along the chain of her necklace that matched Grace’s.

  Meet me at our spot when you’re off she typed and sent the text.

  Despite the short distance between them for more than a year when Grace went undercover in the city of Amherst, they had only spoken twice. Grace had told her the minimal contact was necessary, but Madigan always wondered if it had been her choice—if she couldn’t keep her personal and professional lives separated without going all the way dark.

  Madigan hoped Grace’s new home and position would give her a fresh start in Tall Pines and a chance for them to reconnect.

  For things to be like they used to be.

  After what Grace had been through, she worried it wouldn’t be possible, but she would try just the same.

  Chapter Two

  Grace took her first sip of coffee, flipping through the binder to the page that always made her heart skip a beat: the report her sergeant had completed on her.

  As she skimmed the lines by the first light of morning, a shadowy crevice near the spine of the binder hid the first few words of each sentence.

  It made no difference.

  She could almost recite the report by heart.

  She pushed her pillows behind her head, leaning back in bed.

  Order for Detective Inspector Grace Sheppard to come back in disobeyed.

  Special Detective Grace Sheppard accompanied Leah Culper to her apartment building on Bishop Street at 10:20 p.m. while Conrad Burke and his men were awaiting their large shipment.

  Conrad Burke had exacted the order to kill his girlfriend, Leah Culper.

  Special Detective Grace Sheppard dropped her off at St. Michael’s hospital, stayed with her during her exam, and brought her back to her apartment to gather select belongings with the intention of bringing her into protective custody or getting her to a safe place that had not been authorized.

  Nick Hill and Alex Parish attacked Leah Culper, chasing her toward Special Detective Grace Sheppard’s vehicle. Three shots were fired by Hill before Sheppard left the vehicle and Parish aimed his gun at Leah Culper again.

  The memory flashed before Grace’s eyes. She set her coffee mug down on her nightstand before continuing.

  Special Detective Grace Sheppard opened fire on Parish, killing him. Hill proceeded to fire one round, killing Leah Culper before Sheppard subdued Hill until authorities arrived.

  Nick Hill later died in hospital.

  Acting supervisor and lead investigator, Sgt. Bruno Colette, was not called by Special Detective Grace Sheppard, and his orders to come in were ignored. Sheppard knowingly ignored orders from her superior and endangered the case.

  It is recommended that Special Detective Grace Sheppard be put on a mandatory, unpaid leave of absence for a period of no less than three months. During this period, she is ordered to attend therapy until written consent to return to work is granted by her therapist, whereby she be demoted to Deerhorn County upon her return.

  Grace closed the binder and sighed before push
ing herself off the bed. She crouched beside it and tucked the worn binder back under her spare throw blanket.

  The report had been fairly accurate, and variations or excerpts had been passed on to any member of the law willing to listen—eager to know what happened the night they arrested Conrad Burke on more charges than she could remember—but the report didn’t include everything that had happened.

  Grace had lost so much of what she worked for all her life: a well-respected position on the force in the city and a reputation for being an intelligent and reliable detective.

  She would work as hard as she needed to gain it all back, and she’d play by the book no matter what.

  But nothing will bring Leah back, Grace thought.

  Reading the report reminded her that regardless of the effort she put forth, the most heartbreaking loss could never be reversed or changed.

  As she entered the small police department of Tall Pines, an officer at the front desk escorted her to the chief’s office.

  “Detective Sheppard, pleased to have you with us,” he said, extending his meaty hand to her. “Police Chief Paul Banning. You can call me Chief or Banning, like most do around here.”

  Grace shook his hand, appreciating his firm grip, and he gestured for her to take a seat. She sat down and he sat behind his desk after her.

  She’d never once seen her first foster father, the one she shared with Madigan, shake a man’s hand, or woman’s, for that matter. Her second and final foster parents had taught her the importance of a good one.