Untold (Alex and Cassidy Book 5)

  UNTOLD

  NANCY ANN HEALY

  Text © Copyright 2017 Bumbling Bard Creations

  All Rights Reserved. This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced without permission.

  AUTHOR’S NOTES

  PROLOGUE

  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

  EPILOGUE

  AUTHOR’S NOTES

  The return of Alex and Cassidy happened unexpectedly. Untold is a story whose origins are found in daily hikes with my husky, Jameson. Walking amid old ruins for miles without seeing another soul made me wonder what tales the woods had to tell. And, who better to explore the story of a serial killer than Alex Toles? It has been a joy to walk with these characters again and explore their lives ten years after Conspiracy ended. This story allowed me to bring my two writing worlds together and introduce the cast of J.A. Armstrong’s By Design series into Alex and Cassidy’s world.

  Untold features passages from Mother Goose’s Nursery Rhymes. Over many centuries, the original Mother Goose rhymes have been adopted and altered by different cultures. I imagine that will continue to be the case for the rest of time. This book is no exception in exploring Mother Goose, albeit it with a different flare. One of the most amazing things about art is that it has the ability to inspire creativity in those who interact with it. Sometimes, we find ourselves transported back to another time by the sound of a song, an old movie, or reading a rhyme to our children. Indeed, each of us is part of a unique story, and we carry the stories of others along with us as we write our tale.

  Thank you to my beta readers, Jeannie, Lori, CJ, and Nadine for their feedback, honesty, and diligent work. Thank you to LJ Reynolds for being a sounding board and resource when I needed it. Most of all, thank you to each of you who picks up this tale and travels with these crazy characters. I hope that they bring you a fraction of the joy that they continue to bring me.

  Remember this; everyone has a story to tell. Don’t let yours go untold.

  ~ Nancy

  PROLOGUE

  “Where are you going?”

  Kaylee Peters turned to her friend and smiled. “You guys go ahead. I want to walk into the foundation stones and take some pictures.”

  “Kay,” Jenna Dean scolded. “Don’t take all day. You must have a million pictures of this place by now.”

  Kaylee laughed. “Yeah, well every picture is different even if it’s taken of the same thing.”

  “You know, you are not going to get rich and famous by taking pictures of old stones,” Jenna told her friend.

  Tom Montgomery grabbed his friend’s hand. “Let her go, Jenna,” he said. “She’s heard Donovan’s ghost stories so many times she thinks she is going to find one in a picture.”

  “Oh, ha-ha,” Kaylee replied. “Just go; I’ll catch up with you.”

  “Just be careful climbing around there,” Tom warned.

  Kaylee rolled her eyes. “I won’t fall in any ditches; I promise.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t go getting any poison ivy this time either. Last time you gave it to me, and it sucked,” Jenna reminded her friend.

  “Uh-huh, how do you know that mangy mutt didn’t give it to us both?” Kaylee challenged her friend.

  “Fenway is not mangy,” Tom defended his dog. Jenna and Kaylee both laughed at his indignant tone.

  “I won’t take too long. If I don’t catch up to you on the trail, I’ll see you back at the car,” Kaylee promised.

  Jenna let Tom begin to lead her away. “No poison ivy!” she called back.

  Kaylee watched her friends go and chuckled. “It was that dog,” she mumbled as she ambled off the trail.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “Kenzie!” Alex Toles called up the stairs. “If you are coming with me, get a move on!”

  Alex’s wife stepped into the hallway and pursed her lips in amusement. “Troops not falling in line?” Cassidy teased Alex.

  Alex turned to Cassidy and shook her head. “Why is it that they ask to go and still can never be ready?”

  Cassidy shrugged. The sound of Mackenzie’s feet pounding the upstairs hallway echoed down the stairs.

  “I’m ready!” Mackenzie declared halfway down the staircase.

  Cassidy turned away to hide her amusement. “Oh, she’s yours,” she muttered.

  “Kenz?” Alex pointed to her daughter’s attire.

  “I borrowed your shirt,” Mackenzie explained.

  Alex glanced in Cassidy’s direction just as Cassidy turned to face her. Cassidy’s body shook with laughter. Alex rolled her eyes and turned back to their daughter. “You can’t run in that,” Alex pointed out.

  “Why not? You do?” Mackenzie challenged Alex.

  Had Alex not already been running behind schedule; she might have found the display amusing. Mackenzie looked both adorable and ridiculous sporting one of Alex’s FBI T-shirts. The youngster had attempted to tuck it into her shorts. Half of it hung out the bottom, while the other half spilled out the back. The sleeves reached Mackenzie’s wrists. Alex wondered for a spilt-second if she should get the camera. The fact was, she was dangerously close to being late already.

  Alex looked at her daughter and smiled. “Kenz, you could get hurt running in that.”

  Mackenzie put her hands on her hips in protest.

  Alex took a deep breath. At seven-years-old, Mackenzie seemed to have an answer for everything, and in Mackenzie’s mind, her logic was completely—logical. Alex’s thumb instinctively reached for her temple and began massaging it in frustration.

  “Mackenzie, if you want to go with your mom, you have to wear something that fits you, not her,” Cassidy told their daughter.

  “It fits,” Mackenzie argued.

  Cassidy fought the urge to smack herself in the forehead. Mackenzie was not trying to be difficult. Cassidy recognized that, but Mackenzie was a willful child who sometimes struggled with the reality that she was not in charge of everything, particularly herself. “Mackenzie,” Cassidy’s voice took on its motherly warning tone.

  Mackenzie groaned and turned to stomp back up the stairs.

  “No stomping,” Cassidy called out sternly. “Or you can go with me and the twins to the store instead.” She heard Mackenzie grumble, and she chuckled. “She is your daughter,” Cassidy repeated.

  Alex scratched her brow. “I don’t think I was ever that difficult.”

  “Yes, you were,” a voice came up behind the pair.

  “Oh, thanks, Mom,” Alex laughed.

  “Just telling it like it is,” Helen Toles said. She turned her attention to Cassidy. “I think Bonnie and Clyde are plotting something in the family room,” she said, referring to Alex and Cassidy’s twins.

  “They don’t want to go to the store,” Cassidy surmised. Helen grinned. “Do I want to know what they are plotting?”

  “Probably not, but safe to say Kenzie gave them some good ideas,” Helen said.

  Cassidy pinned Alex with a stare and shook her head.

  “What are you looking at me for?” Alex asked.

  Cassidy’s eyebrow shot up. “They a
re not even five yet.”

  “Two weeks, Cass.”

  “Yes, I know,” Cassidy replied. “Giving birth to twins is not something one generally forgets.”

  Helen laughed. Cassidy’s playful reminder had made Alex go pale in an instant. Cassidy had survived an unusually long, grueling labor with their two youngest children. Twins had not been on either Alex or Cassidy’s parental radar. Both had learned that nothing prepared a person for twins, at least not for their twins.

  Connor and Abigail were twins in every sense of the word. They were each other’s best friend. And, they enjoyed concocting what Cassidy called “little conspiracies.” Those included hiding under Dylan’s bed to avoid going shopping and hiding in Mackenzie’s closet to try to scare her. Attempting to hide in the backseat of Alex’s car so that they could go to work with her was the stunt that nearly gave Cassidy a heart attack. Quite frequently, the twins enjoyed stowing their favorite items in the shopping cart behind Cassidy’s back when she took them to the store. Mackenzie delighted in egging the pair on. While it was rare, when conflict arose between Connor and Abby, the situation could become volatile. Mischief times two could be exhausting. Alex often wondered how Cassidy handled their children all day. She was just about to try and placate Cassidy when Mackenzie came barreling down the stairs.

  “Ready!” Mackenzie declared.

  Cassidy chuckled, leaned into Alex, and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “Saved by Kenz again,” she whispered.

  Alex wrinkled her nose in reply. Cassidy giggled.

  “Acceptable?” Mackenzie asked, sounding more like an adult in a business meeting than a seven-year-old.

  Helen covered her mouth to keep from laughing. Cassidy smirked at the expression on Alex’s face, certain that she would never grow tired of watching Alex with their children. Watching Alex and Mackenzie together consistently amused Cassidy. Mackenzie and Alex shared a special bond. Alex became enthralled with Mackenzie the moment that Cassidy told Alex she was pregnant. When Mackenzie finally arrived, Cassidy immediately noticed their daughter’s attachment to Alex. She often pondered how different their daughters were. Abby was attached to Cassidy more than any of her other children had ever been, even their eldest, Dylan. As a baby, Abby would cry when Cassidy attempted to put her down. Even now, when illness or upset struck the toddler, Abby sought out Cassidy. As much as Alex or her grandmothers tried, Abby was often inconsolable until she was in Cassidy’s embrace. It was ironic. Abby resembled Alex more than any of their children did. She had clearly inherited the Toles’ genes. Mackenzie on the other hand, looked so much like Cassidy that Alex had dubbed her Mini-Cass. And, as much as Cassidy knew Alex adored Mackenzie, Mackenzie could get under Alex’s skin faster than any of their kids. Cassidy wondered if Alex would ever realize that Mackenzie prided herself on that ability.

  “Better,” Alex finally answered Mackenzie’s question. She watched as Mackenzie skipped down the steps and toward the front door. “Kenz,” Alex warned gently. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  Mackenzie turned in the doorway and waved. “Bye, Mom.”

  “Have a good time, Kenz,” Cassidy replied with a smile.

  Alex leaned in and kissed Cassidy on the cheek. “Love you,” she whispered. “See you later tonight.”

  “Yes, you will,” Cassidy agreed. “Go on, Coach,” she said with a pat to Alex’s backside. “And, I love you too.”

  “Mom!” Mackenzie called from outside the door.

  “Think I should pretend I don’t know who she’s calling and let you answer?” Alex joked.

  “Mom!”

  Cassidy laughed. “Go on, Alfred.”

  “Accurate,” Alex playfully groaned as she made her way toward the door. “Hold your horses,” she yelled to her daughter.

  Cassidy closed the door behind Alex and leaned back against it to face her mother-in-law. “Guess it’s time to round up Bonnie and Clyde,” she laughed.

  ***

  “You really think this warrants our involvement? Seems like an issue for the local police,” Detective Jared Brown asked his partner. David Siminski exited the car and kept moving. “Dave?”

  “I don’t know,” Siminski replied honestly. “But, when Michael calls—I answer.”

  Brown nodded his understanding and followed his partner across a grassy parking area toward a small cluster of picnic tables where law enforcement and a few bi-standers had gathered. Jared Brown was a relatively new addition to the Connecticut State Police’s Major Crime Squad. His partner, Detective David Siminski was a veteran—one of the investigators other officers talked about and aspired to become. Siminski had spent six years with the Federal Bureau of Investigations in Washington D.C. He’d opted for a role back in his home state when his mother had become ill seven years ago. One thing Brown understood, if David Siminski thought there was a reason to be here, there likely was.

  Siminski approached the small group, keen to listen to the conversation as it unfolded.

  “I don’t know,” a young girl’s despondent voice answered. “She wanted to take some pictures of some of the old buildings—you know—the ruins?”

  Detective Jerry Daniels nodded just as he captured Siminski out of the corner of his eye. He smiled at the girl. “Okay, Jenna. Why don’t you and Tom have a seat?” he suggested. “I’ll be right back,” he told her, turning to his old friend. “Take a walk?” he asked Siminski.

  “So?” Siminski asked as they strolled.

  “You know; three kids out in the woods, one goes off on her own,” Daniels began. “We’re looking, but by the time they thought to call anyone—Well, we’re already losing light.”

  “What makes you think this is anything more than a kid looking for an escape?” Siminski asked.

  Daniels groaned. “The kids,” he replied. “They’re rattled.”

  “You think her friends know something?” Detective Jared Brown asked. Daniels looked at him curiously.

  “Sorry, Jerry,” Siminski apologized. “Detective Brown is a bit curious as to what we are doing here,” he confessed. “To tell you the truth, so am I.”

  Daniels stopped moving and faced the pair. He nodded his understanding and looked directly at Siminski. “Call it my gut,” he said honestly. “Let’s say that I doubt that this will stay a local case for very long.”

  Siminski released a heavy breath and scratched his brow. He had worked with Daniels for five years before accepting a position at the FBI. Jerry Daniels was an astute investigator. Siminski had often pondered suggesting that his old friend join the bureau, but Daniels had always been clear that he had no desire to leave his department, nor his family ties. Daniels’ father had served in the same town as the Chief of Police for thirteen years. The detective felt a sense of pride in continuing that service to his community, albeit in a different role. Glastonbury, Connecticut remained more small-town America than it had ever reflected city life. It was not the type of place that dealt with kidnappings, homicides, or violent crime with regularity. Nonetheless, Siminski knew Daniels to be an adept investigator. Sometimes, investigators needed an informal consultation before a formal collaboration with another agency ensued. Siminski respected that.

  “So, give me the basics,” Siminski said.

  “Seventeen-year-old girl out with her friends for an afternoon hike in the woods. Near as I can tell that is exactly what it was. No indication of any partying, skipping a few classes maybe,” he smirked. “Seems she and her friends over there have been doing this since they were kids; the hiking part, not the cutting class,” he interjected. “So, they are familiar with the landscape,” he explained.

  “How long has it been?” Siminski asked.

  “Four hours,” Daniels answered. “They waited for two before they called.”

  “Why so long?” Brown inquired.

  Daniels shrugged. “Well, she said she was going off to take some pictures—of the trail, that is—and, she’d catch up to them. Took them a bit to get back here.
They just figured she was behind them, maybe took a different trail out. That’s the story. The young man over there, he went back to where they had parted company to look for her—didn’t find her. When he got back here, they called us. Like I said, they know the area. To tell you the truth, they didn’t seem all that rattled until the sun started to set. Jenna over there says that’s just not like Kaylee. We’ve got a small team out there now. A larger team is coming in at daylight. We’ll bring in some dogs in the morning. But, you know the drill. There’s no evidence of foul play.”

  “Except that a seventeen-year-old girl is suddenly missing,” Siminski commented. Daniels nodded.

  “Runaway?” Brown asked.

  “Possible,” Daniels conceded. “Anything is possible,” he said flatly.

  “Maybe she fell out there,” Brown offered another possibility.

  Daniels jaw tighten. “Lots of maybes,” he replied. “That’s possible. Like I said, anything is possible. We’ve combed the area she was in and the trail back. The kids seem pretty sure that she would have gone the same way.”

  “And, you trust them?” Brown asked.

  “Their stories match. They’re genuinely worried. They called. I don’t have any reason to think they aren’t telling me the truth. Hell, they told me they cut class,” he said.

  Siminski glanced over at the two teens. Jenna’s face was in her hands while the young boy rubbed her back. He’s spent years learning to read people. Neither of the kids was acting as if they wanted to hide anything. That worried Siminski immediately. If Kaylee hadn’t given them the slip, and if she hadn’t met with an accident, there was only one other possible scenario; she had met with someone else. “The parents?” Siminski asked Daniels.

  “Down at the station now,” Daniels explained. “We’ll be taking both kids down to meet their parents shortly.”

  “So, you don’t suspect her friends?” Brown wondered.

  “I don’t suspect anyone specifically of anything,” Daniels replied flatly.