Keep No Record: Redemption, #1

By Cassie Beebe

He was a prisoner of his own demons... until she set him free.

 

Young, confident, and a bit too naive for the big city, Criminal Psychologist Sarah Parker has been hired to help track down Jacob Perry – a notorious killer who has evaded the police for years. If she can bring him to justice, she just might prove that she's worthy of a permanent position with the NYPD.

 

When Sarah unexpectedly finds herself alone with the man, she makes a daring move to offer him companionship in exchange for sparing another woman's life. Jacob agrees, taking Sarah as his prisoner. As she awaits her rescue, Sarah begins to build a connection with the man on the opposite side of the law, and she learns that there might be more to Jacob than meets the eye.

 

Caught between her duty to bring him to justice and her growing compassion for the man she's supposed to fear, Sarah is forced to confront her own beliefs about right and wrong. Will she prioritize her career and pursue justice, or take a risk by helping Jacob find redemption?

 

---

 

Keep No Record is a clean, gripping tale of love and danger. It contains themes of mental health, murder, suicide, and physical and sexual abuse.

 

If you enjoy Keep No Record, be sure to read its companion novel, Broken Together, for the rest of Jacob's journey.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cassie Beebe
• Release date: Jun 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201314576

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Sarah Parker stepped through the large, oak doors of the Manhattan Police Department, immediately overwhelmed by the chaotic buzz of officers hard at work.

Making her way to the reception desk in front of her, she glanced around the large, open space that branched out into various hallways and private offices. In the center of the room, beyond a glass partition that separated the reception area from the rest of the space, was a collection of desks. Phones rang continuously and there were three flat screen televisions on the center wall, each muted as it displayed current news reports.

She stepped up to the lively receptionist.

Sarah Parker, she announced. I'm here to meet with Captain Scott.

Give me one moment, the young girl said with a friendly smile as she searched her computer schedule for confirmation.

Doctor Parker?

Yes, Sarah answered, turning to the pretty, dark-haired woman stepping through the doorway.

Thanks for coming, she replied, offering her hand for a shake. I’m Melinda Scott.

Oh, she muttered, surprised, as she took the woman’s hand. I'm sorry, I was expecting….

It's all right. Captain Scott smiled. I get that a lot. Why don't you follow me to my office, and I'll get you filled in on the case.

Sarah gave the receptionist a smile as she followed Captain Scott beyond the glass partition and into the last large office on the left side of the building. The Captain closed the door behind them, silencing the activity from the common area. She nodded toward the chair across from her as she sat at her desk, and Sarah took the seat, setting her notebook and resume on the desk in front of her. She had already been offered the temporary position, but she brought along her credentials anyway, in case the Captain wanted to take a second look.

She had been surprised when she got the call back about the position after such a brief online-interview with another detective in the department. Fresh out of grad school, with only a brief internship under her belt, Sarah had anticipated a much longer stretch of unemployment before landing any job in law enforcement, let alone such a well-paying position in the city she had always dreamed of living in. Turns out a glowing recommendation from a well-respected professor of Criminal Psychology, along with a well-earned track record of hard work and exceptional grades, went a long way.

How much do you know about Jacob Perry? Melinda started, swiveling her chair to retrieve a file from the cabinet behind her.

Well, Sarah searched her brain for the latest news she had heard of the infamous name, I know that he killed three people.

He did. Melinda turned back to Sarah, offering her the file she retrieved. And every time, he disappears.

Sarah flipped open the file to a blurry, candid picture of Jacob Perry. He was rough, with a light brown beard and long, ragged hair sticking out from a baseball cap. He wore ripped jeans and an oversized sweater.

That picture was caught from a security camera at a gas station in Brooklyn after he killed one of our Detectives nearly three years ago, Melinda stated. That's the last we've seen of him. Long story short, it's all hands-on deck at this point, and we'd like to utilize your expertise to help us find this guy, get in his head.

Absolutely, Sarah said, perusing the rest of the file. Whatever I can do to help.

Captain Scott gave a brief, approving smile. That's what I like to hear. Well, thank you for meeting me tonight. I know you just got in, but I'm on a chopper to Pittsburgh in less than an hour. She rose from her chair, gathering her briefcase and a few files from the cabinet on her way to the door.

Oh, um, Sarah started, gathering her belongings quickly, wondering if that could really be the entire extent of her initiation into the NYPD. Yeah, of course. Not a problem.

I apologize if I seem curt, Captain Scott noted as she observed Sarah rushing to gather her things. They need me as soon as possible, but I'll be leaving you in good hands.

There was a rap on the door, and the Captain opened it to reveal an older, male detective with dark skin and a low buzz of short, gray hair.

Sorry to bother you, he began, glancing in Sarah's direction, but they need you to sign off on a couple of things before you head out.

No problem. Doctor Parker, these are those good hands I was referring to, she said, nodding toward the male detective.

He offered a hand to Sarah. Sergeant James Ford.

Doctor Sarah Parker, she replied, receiving his handshake with a smile.

Sarah's a Criminal Psychologist, here to help us track down Perry, Captain Scott explained.

Sergeant Ford glanced at Sarah again with apprehension.

Well, we're glad to have you. He cleared his throat. We just need a couple signatures, he said to Captain Scott, gesturing toward the rest of his team.

Sure thing, just give me two minutes, she answered, nodding for him to leave. Once he was out of earshot, she turned back to Sarah. I forgot to mention, some of the officers here have some... hesitation to accept the help of a Psychologist such as yourself.

Sarah smiled in understanding. It's okay, I've gotten that before. I can handle myself, she answered with confidence.

Well, good, Captain Scott replied. Because if everything works out, I'm looking to hire some more permanent help.

Sarah's eyebrows rose in excitement as she relished in the idea of finding a permanent position so soon after moving to the city.

But for now, let's just keep that between us and see how things go.

Sarah nodded, trying to contain her excitement at the opportunity. Yes, ma'am.

It was nice to meet you, Doctor Parker, Captain Scott said, shaking her hand once more. Good luck with everything, and I'll see you in a few days.

Captain Scott rushed off without another word, stopping by Sergeant Ford to sign those papers on her way out the back door. Sarah's head was still swimming with the amount of vague information she had received in the five minutes she had been in the building. She took a deep breath, heading back to the front reception area.

Hey, uh, Sarah, right? Sergeant Ford called from behind her.

Her head snapped up. Yes?

I'll have Detective Bentley show you where the lockers are, and then we can get started, he said waving another detective over to them.

Oh, Sarah said, trying to think of a polite way to explain that she wasn't staying. Actually... I'm sorry, but I was just here to meet the Captain before she left. I'm not supposed to start until tomorrow.

Oh, Sergeant Ford said with disappointment as the other detective approached them.

I'm sorry, she interjected quickly. It's just that I have a moving truck arriving at my new place in about half an hour.

It's no problem. Mike can show you around in the morning. He turned his attention to the younger detective. You can get back to whatever you were doing.

Actually, sir, I'm going on ten hours now, Mike replied, looking at his watch. I was just about to take off, he said, glancing at Sarah with interest from the corner of his eye.

Sergeant Ford looked at his watch. Oh, yeah, you're right. Well, then why don't you escort Miss Parker out, and I'll see you both in the morning.

Mike and Sarah looked awkwardly at each other as she took another deep breath and tried to keep her nerves from showing in her eyes.

Hey, he said casually, offering a hand. I'm Mike.

Sarah, she answered.

Shall we? he asked, nodding to the door.

Lead the way, Sarah answered, following him back to the reception room and through the exit doors. Mike said goodnight to the pretty, red-headed receptionist on their way out the door. She smiled back at him with a coy blush.

So where are you parked? Mike asked as they reached the sidewalk.

Oh, I took the subway, Sarah replied. Everyone told me I wouldn't want to bring a car to the city, so I decided to give it a shot without one. At least for a while.

Not a bad idea. Where you headed?

I think it's called Greene street, Sarah said with hesitation.

Mike chuckled. You think?

I've literally been there once, she answered with a giggle. For, like, five minutes.

Well, Greene street's just a couple blocks from my place. You want a ride?

Oh, Sarah said, glancing down the street and assessing the long walk back to the subway station. Yeah, actually. That would be great.

He led her to his sleek, black sedan and opened the passenger door for her. Conversation flowed effortlessly as they drove, discussing Sarah's move to New York and the difficulties the department had been having with the Jacob Perry case.

He just disappears, Mike sighed with a shrug. It makes no sense. His name and face are plastered all over the news, but we haven't had a single breakthrough since he killed Perez.

I'm sure this is mentioned in the file, Sarah began, shuffling through the paperwork in her lap, but why did he target Detective Perez, anyway?

He shook his head. The only thing we can think of is that he used to work in Queens, near where Perry grew up. Maybe he had a run in with him at some point.

So, nobody actually knows how they were connected?

He gave her a smirk. I think that's what we have you for.

She let out half a chuckle No pressure or anything.

Mike laughed in return. So, what made you choose this line of work, Doctor?

She smirked at the title. My dad.

He raised a brow. Family business?

Not exactly. She hesitated, deciding how to sum up the story succinctly.

Mike waited, unbothered by her pause.

My dad was killed when I was eight, she stated.

He nodded. What happened? I mean, if you don't want to talk about it..., he trailed off, giving her an easy out.

No, it's okay, she started, turning her attention back to her hands. We took my dog to the park, like we always did on Saturday mornings. We were playing catch for a while when a man in a black jacket and hat walked right up to my dad and shot him in the chest.

Mike’s eyebrows shot up. Just like that?

Sarah shrugged. Just like that.

He turned his attention back to the road, shaking his head in disbelief. Did they catch the guy?

Sarah smiled at his cop instincts. Yeah, he didn't get very far, she said. Actually, my dad was the Chief of Police in our town.

No kidding, he said, smiling at the connection between them.

Yeah, he always had his radio on him. I called it in as soon as the guy ran off.

Wow, Mike breathed, giving her a nod of approval. Brave girl.

She shrugged off the compliment.

So, how did that lead to all of this? He gestured out the windshield at the city before them.

Sarah took in Mike's interested gaze. It's kind of a long story, she answered, glancing back out the window as they pulled up to her apartment building.

Mike nodded in understanding. Well, I've got time if you do, he replied casually, not pressing.

She checked the time on the dashboard and searched the streets for the moving truck. Riding with Mike had been much faster than taking the subway, and they had arrived earlier than expected. She looked back at his patient, green eyes. The details of her father's death weren't ones she usually shared with strangers, but there was something comfortable about Mike that spurred her to continue.

I was angry, Sarah began with a sigh.

Mike shifted the car into park and settled into his seat.

For a long time. After the trial, all I could think about was how the guy couldn't even look me or my mom in the eye. It was like, even though he was in prison, we were the ones facing the consequences of his decisions. He just sat through the whole thing with this cold, distant look on his face. He didn't see us, didn't care about how his actions affected us. She shook her head.

When I turned twelve, I started writing a speech for him, she continued. I wanted to visit him in prison and make him see me. He had to know how he destroyed our lives. But I was a minor, and I didn't want to have to take my mom with me. She never talked about it; she just wanted to forget it ever happened and move on.

Concern wrinkled Sarah's forehead as she thought of her mother, living alone back in Ohio, always moving forward but never fully healing.

Anyway, I waited until I turned eighteen, she said.

Surprise flitted across Mike's face, and she chuckled. I know, I can be patient when I want to be.

Mike laughed in response. I guess so.

But honestly, she said, shaking her head with a furrowed brow, "it was less about patience and more about bitterness. I didn't know how to let go, and my mom certainly wasn't leading by example in that department.

Nonetheless, I was determined to see it through. On my eighteenth birthday, I marched down to the prison, rehearsing my speech the whole way there. But when I sat down across from the glass and grabbed the phone, before I could get a word out, he started crying.

Sarah took a deep breath, losing herself in the memory.

Everything I had planned to say just left my mind. I couldn't remember a single word. Looking back, I realize it was probably God protecting me from saying something I would regret, because before I said anything, he lifted his head up from his hands, tears streaming down his face, and looked me right in the eye.

Sarah broke herself from the memory, looking back at Mike and blinking back the water that was beginning to rise in her eyes.

"He looked me in the eye and said 'I'm so sorry for what I did to you.' Not just, 'I'm sorry,' or, 'I'm sorry for what I did to your dad.' He said 'I'm sorry for what I did to you.' She sniffled, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. It was all I ever wanted, for him to take responsibility for how his decision ruined my life. And I could tell he really meant it."

Mike appraised her as she recounted the story, listening.

Anyway, people had been telling me my whole life how great it was that we got justice and got to see my dad's killer behind bars, but when I sat in front of that, she paused, searching for the word, "broken man who had been suffering in his guilt for ten years... it didn't feel like justice, to me."

She took a deep breath and turned to Mike. He nodded gravely as he took in her story. They sat in silence for a moment, both collecting their thoughts and coming back to the present.

So, Mike said, clearing his throat, what happened after that?

Well, Sarah began, thinking over the past ten years of her life, for one, I forgave him.

He smirked.

And I visited him a couple more times over the years. He really is a changed man, she said, chuckling as she shook her head in disbelief. In fact, he was released a few months ago.

Yeah?

She nodded. He got married a few years ago, while he was still incarcerated, and now they're expecting a baby. I just…, she paused. I can't help but wonder how things might be different if I hadn't gone to see him that day. Different for both of us.

She gazed at the city lights through the window, trying to imagine where she would be if she hadn't found it in her heart to forgive the man who killed her father. Would she ever have healed, or would she still be trapped in the same unbearable bitterness that ruled most of her childhood and still had its grips in her mother? Would the man still be in prison, or would he be released just to inevitably end up back in a cell a few years later? Could he have found a way to forgive himself without Sarah's compassion, or would he still be wallowing in his guilt?

She took one final, deep breath as she pulled herself out of those damning thoughts and turned in her seat to face Mike.

That's quite a story, Mike said, nodding as he searched his mind for something more profound to say.

Sarah nodded back with a smile.

So that's why you chose this job? To fight for... forgiveness? he asked.

Forgiveness and justice. Everyone deserves a second chance. Everyone makes mistakes. But we don't have to live in guilt forever.

So, Mike hesitated, trying to comprehend her way of thinking, you don't believe criminals should go to prison?

No, no, Sarah interjected. I'm not against prison. I understand the need to contain someone, for the safety of those around them, and to atone for your crimes. I just don't think it should stop there. That should just be the first step on the road to recovery.

Mike nodded, a look of confused apprehension on his face that made her laugh.

It's simple, she said, waiting for him to meet her gaze. I just want everyone to have a chance to change, if that's what they choose.

Huh, he muttered with understanding. That's it?

That's it. She shrugged.

He smiled. Well, I guess I can get on board with that.

She smiled back at him as he ran a hand through his short, brown hair and sat back in his seat, looking out the windshield.

Is that yours? he asked, pointing to a large, white truck pulling alongside the sidewalk in front of her building.

That would be mine, she answered, hesitating with her hand on the door handle. Thank you again, for the ride.

Yeah, absolutely, Mike replied.

They sat for a moment in silence.

Well, Sarah began, pulling open the car door, goodnight.

Hey, he interjected. If you want, maybe I could pick you up in the morning? I mean, your place is on my way, so it wouldn't be a problem. Unless you'd rather take the subway.

Sarah laughed. Would anyone rather take the subway?

Probably not, he chuckled, but you never know.

Before she could answer, Mike's phone rang in his pocket.

Hang on, he said, pulling the phone from his pocket and raising it quickly to his ear.

Detective Bentley, he spoke into the receiver. What? Right now? His tone turned urgent as he listened to the person on the other line. Yeah, of course, I'll be right there, he finished, hanging up quickly and turning to Sarah.

Problem? she asked.

Actually, no, he said with excitement. That was Ford. He's got Jacob Perry on the line.

What? Really? Sarah asked with equal enthusiasm.

Yeah, Mike replied, so I gotta go, sorry. He clicked his seat belt back in place and shifted the car into gear, waiting for her to leave.

Well, I'm coming with you! she exclaimed as if it should be obvious.

Mike stared at her for a moment. Uh, what about the truck? he asked, glancing out the window.

Oh.

She had forgotten about the truck.

Just a minute, she said, jumping from the car and sprinting to the movers.

Hello, she greeted the men as they stepped out of the truck and opened the back door, revealing all of her belongings piled high to the rooftop.

Look, I know this is going to sound a little crazy, but here, she said, handing one of the men the key to her apartment. It's unit 3A. Just put the key on the counter when you're done and leave the door unlocked, she said, turning away quickly.

Uh, wait, ma'am! the man called to her.

What? she asked, turning back.

The men looked at her incredulously, glancing back and forth between each other.

Um, are you sure you want to give us your key? the man asked, holding it far in front of him, as if apartment keys were prone to spontaneous combustion.

Yes, Sarah answered, impatient.

She appraised the looks of disapproval on their faces and rolled her eyes. I know, I know. I'm too naive, and I'll never make it in New York. Trust me, I've heard it all before, but this is an emergency and I have to go. She turned away quickly, taking a few steps back toward Mike's car.

Oh, she said, turning back to the movers and pulling out her wallet. Sorry, I almost forgot. She pulled out her payment for the moving services and shoved it quickly into one of their hands, shouting keep the change over her shoulder as she slid back into Mike's car.

The men stood on the street for a moment, looking at each other in befuddlement. Mike had a similar expression on his face when Sarah clicked her seat belt in place.

Um, he began, did you just give those guys your key?

Yeah, Sarah replied curtly, waiting impatiently for him to begin driving.

Uh, he said, looking at the movers and back to Sarah, I don't know if you should-

Do we really have time for a lecture right now? she interrupted with exasperation.

Mike assessed her expression and, upon realizing she wasn't going to change her mind, decided it wasn't worth the fight.

No, I guess not.

Good, she said. Then let's go.

Mike slapped his small, red siren on the top of his car and raced back to the station.

Sarah took a deep breath as all of the stories contained in the file on her lap suddenly became very real. The pressure of the papers burned into her legs, and her heart pounded as she watched the city lights fly by.

They rode in silence as Mike concentrated on the road and Sarah focused on her breathing, mustering the courage she would need to face the challenge before her. Ready or not, she was about to have her first conversation with Jacob Perry.

CHAPTER 2

With Mike’s portable siren blaring atop the car, the trip back to the station took less than half the time it had taken to get to Sarah's apartment. Within five minutes they were bursting through the heavy station door.

Sarah followed Mike to the center of the room where Sergeant Ford