Family Secrets: A Cop in the Family, #1

By Jamie Hill

As if stumbling over a dead body isn't enough, Crystal Cartwright finds herself playing surrogate mother to two small boys when their father--her neighbor--doesn't come home. The kids aren't much trouble, but the thieves, drug dealers and kidnappers they're about to encounter are. Detective Jack Dunlevy, a cop down on his luck, draws the cases no one else wants. A simple investigation involving a dead homeless man quickly changes as Crystal enlists Jack's help with the children. Drawn into a mystery that none of them could have anticipated, they're faced with a situation that will change their lives forever.

 

"Be sure to add Family Secrets by Jamie Hill to your reading list, you'll be glad you did." ~5 Hearts ~ Anita, The Romance Studio 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jamie Hill
• Release date: Jul 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201479398

Jamie Hill

Jamie Hill filled up one notebook after another, writing as a young adult. She picked up the craft again years later, tapping on the computer late at night after putting her children to bed. First published in 2005, she’s written numerous novels and short stories. Jamie lives in the Midwest where she enjoys spending time with her family, streaming true crime shows, crocheting, and snuggling warm, cuddly puppies.

Book preview

Chapter One

SHE THOUGHT ABOUT STEPPING over the body, but that would be awkward while she held hands with the children. The body of Manny, the homeless guy who hung out by the door of her apartment building, lay spread across the entrance. There was no way around it. Him.

Crystal tugged the boys backwards, away from the body. They didn’t need to see him that way, but she supposed it was already too late. She could see in their little eyes that they were soaking up everything happening around them like sponges.

Come on. She led them to a bench a few steps away from the door. It was an old bus bench, from when the busses bothered to stop in the neighborhood. Now people dragged the bench wherever they wanted it. The past couple weeks it had been parked in front of her building.

Fat chance of finding a bus around here now. Crystal pulled a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and lit one up.

Is he really dead? a voice said softly from the bench next to her. Crystal looked from the child to Manny sadly.

I guess so, she replied. Sorry, I know this is scary for you. She had a thought and looked over to the alley next to her building for the other man she knew was hiding there. Hey Ralph! Did you check his pulse? I mean, maybe Manny just passed out or something.

Not me. No way, nuh-uh! The little man skittered around in the shadows nervously. Mrs. G, she touched him. She called the cops.

Yeah. Crystal nodded and puffed on her cigarette. Mrs. Gianelli from apartment 1A would be the first neighbor to notice Manny and call it in. Crystal didn’t know anyone who kept a more watchful eye on a place. She supposed that came from having nothing to do all day but look out the window. Mrs. Gianelli was eighty-seven years old, and when she wasn’t peering out from behind her tattered curtains, Crystal knew she stared at the TV for hours on end. She wasn’t sure which the old woman preferred. The myriad of crime shows on TV, or the real-life crime scene playing out on the sidewalk in front of her right now. Mrs. G. was probably having a heyday with her front row seat.

Crystal was sickened by the whole event. Manny had been mentally challenged, in some ways he’d acted just like the boys. He’d always been glad to see them, and they’d usually shared some superhero information tidbits with each other. Crystal sighed. She hated to see anything happen to someone so innocent. No, ‘innocent’ wasn’t exactly the right word. She imagined Manny had seen a lot living on the streets as he had. But he’d seemed naïve and almost childlike. That was the word she wanted.

Say, uh, Crystal...? Ralph kept in the shadows next to the building but worked his way closer to her. He didn’t smell very good, but Crystal felt sorry for him. She suspected he wasn’t quite right in the head, either. But like Manny, Ralph was harmless and Crystal knew he’d sooner run from a fly than kill one.

Oh, yeah. Crystal looked down at the paper bag she absent-mindedly clutched in her hand. Here you go. She tossed the bag to him and he grabbed for it. Roast beef today. It’s pretty good.

He grinned and opened the sack. Thanks. He sunk back into the shadows as he ate.

Crystal took a drag on her cigarette and watched as two uniformed police officers approached Manny. They checked him for vital signs, then began asking Ralph questions. Ralph answered, shoving the last of the sandwich in his mouth and talking at the same time.

Mrs. Gianelli? A shadow came over the bench as a man stepped in front of Crystal and the children.

She inhaled the last of her smoke and dropped the butt on the sidewalk, grinding it out with the toe of her shoe. She looked up slowly at the cop in front of her. He wasn’t uniformed but even in faded jeans, a black t-shirt and a leather jacket, Crystal knew he was a cop. The small notepad and pen he held was one giveaway. The other was his eyes. He had a cop’s tired eyes. Nope, she finally answered after giving him the once-over. You’ll find her in 1A. I live in 3G.

And you would be? he asked pleasantly.

She looked him up and down again. Isn’t it customary for the policeman to introduce himself first? Show a badge and that sort of thing? Especially one who doesn’t even bother with a uniform.

His eyes flashed irritation for a moment, but it passed quickly and Crystal could read amusement in them now. He pulled out his badge and held it in front of her face. Apologies, ma’am. Detective Jack Dunlevy, Wichita Police Department.

She pretended to inspect the badge, and then leaned back and nodded. Thank you. I’m Crystal Cartwright. As I said, I live in 3G. I was on my way home from work when I discovered Manny...this way. She glanced at the body that the uniformed officers were now frisking.

The detective returned his badge to his breast pocket and began writing on his notepad. Cartwright. A long way from the Ponderosa, aren’t you?

She lit another cigarette and blew the smoke up toward his face. Good one. You can bet I’ve never heard that before.

He smiled at her, and the grin took the rough edge off his features. He was actually quite handsome, with shaggy brown hair that curled around his collar as if overdue for a trim. When he smiled his eyes became a melting chocolate brown and didn’t seem so tired. He had a comforting look about him, which probably came in handy in his line of work.

So you’re just getting off work? He made some notes in his notebook.

Yeah.

And you knew... he nodded to the corpse that was still being poked and prodded in the doorway of the apartment building.

Manny, Crystal replied.

Manny, he repeated and wrote. Any last name?

She smiled at him coolly and answered, I’m sure he had one. I just wouldn’t know it. We weren’t close.

Oh, really? He looked at her sarcastically.

Crystal stood up to blow the last puff of smoke a little closer to his face. Even standing she missed, as the detective stood six feet or taller and she was lucky to hit five foot six in heels. Today she was wearing her sensible restaurant flats, so the smoke hit him at about chest level. She ground out the cigarette butt with her toe and looked up at him. Really, she repeated. My uniform indicates I’m a waitress, not a hooker. She looked toward Manny and shivered as someone covered his body with a tarp. Turning back to the cop, she murmured, God rest his soul.

Dunlevy grimaced. Amen to that. So you knew Manny from his hanging around the block?

Yeah. He pretty much lived by our door. He showered regularly at Sister Theresa’s shelter a couple blocks over, so he actually smelled better than... She eyed Ralph in the shadows, still watching the goings-on. Most of the homeless guys. He told me once he didn’t like sleeping there, though, because people stole his stuff.

At Sister Theresa’s? Dunlevy asked skeptically.

Yeah.  She chuckled. Ironic, eh? I don’t think Manny had much, but he had good shoes. I know that. He was proud of them.

Dunlevy looked toward the body, where stocking feet stuck out from under the tarp. "Doesn’t appear that he had any shoes today."

She shrugged. Maybe Ralph has some new shoes. I guess Manny won’t need them now.

He looked back at her. Ralph?

She nodded toward the man cringing next to her building. Another street-dweller. He doesn’t hang around here as much as Manny, but everybody knows him. She looked at Dunlevy and ran a finger across the tip of her nose. I’m not sure Ralph is aware of the amenities at Sister Theresa’s.

He nodded and made more notes. They both looked at the body for a moment, then the detective said, Do you think Manny had any enemies?

She shrugged again. I can’t believe he did. He was harmless, as far as I knew. He kept an eye on the building, and we all sort of looked out for him. In the wintertime we’d let him sleep inside in the hallway. I’d bring him a sandwich from the diner after work. Stuff like that.

What diner would that be? He didn’t look up, just continued taking notes.

Moe’s, on South Broadway, a couple blocks from here.

He nodded as he wrote, and they heard a small voice speak up. They have good pie.

He looked around the woman to the smaller of the two boys, who had been sitting on the bench in silence. Is that so? Good pie, you say? I may have to check it out.

The boy nodded solemnly.

Crystal looked at the child. Six years old, with shaggy brown hair and two missing front teeth, he was an adorable sight.

Dunlevy squinted at him. Did you file a report with the police on those missing teeth? Can you even eat pie with no teeth?

I have teeth! He grinned and bared his lips to show the rest.

Oh, well, good. Dunlevy continued to write. And what would your name be? For the report.

In a shaky voice the smaller of the two boys said, Devon Erickson.

Dunlevy nodded officially as he wrote it down. He glanced at the other child, seated next to Devon. What about you, young man? Got anything to add to the report?

Crystal glanced at him. He sported the same scruffy hair as his brother. They shared similar facial features, but the two boys were quite different. Devon still carried the naiveté that came with youth. Mark, at age eight, had seen more of life and was, sadly, more sullen about things.

The boy shook his head without speaking.

What’s your name? Dunlevy asked gently.

I don’t got nothing to add to the report.

Dunlevy smiled. You don’t like the pie?

I like the chocolate cake, he answered.

Well, there you go. He wrote on his notepad ...chocolate cake. He looked back at the boy. And your name?

Mark Erickson.

Very good. Dunlevy nodded and wrote.

Crystal looked over at Manny once again. Any idea when they’ll be able to take him out of here? I’d like to go home.

Dunlevy followed her gaze to the entryway and replied, They should have the body removed pretty quickly now.

She shivered again and hugged her arms to herself. The body. Until a few hours ago, he was a person.

Dunlevy studied her. Thought you and Manny weren’t close.

She looked him in the eye. We weren’t. But he was somebody. That ought to mean something.

Dunlevy closed his notebook and shoved it in his pocket. He muttered silently to himself and glanced at her almost sheepishly. "After eighteen years on the force, the last twelve of them as a homicide detective, I’ve seen lots of bodies. I promised myself a long time ago that I’d always remember the victims were people before they were vics. He smiled. Sorry. These days I’m lucky to remember to get out of bed in the morning."

Crystal cocked her head, trying to figure him out. An imposing figure, he hadn’t turned out to be as obnoxious as she’d first thought. There was something appealing about the man. Before she could dwell on it, Manny’s body was carefully removed and the police wrapped up their initial investigation.

As soon as she was allowed, Crystal hauled the boys up the stairs, relieved to finally go home. She thought once more about the detective with the melting brown eyes. He’d been ticked off when the uniformed officers didn’t have anything for the kids in their car besides tiny little teddy bears. Police were supposed to carry something for children involved in traumatic situations, but Dunlevy sensed these boys were too old to appreciate the bears. He promised to bring them something better the next time he was back around. Crystal sighed. Him coming ‘back around’ meant more questions for her, but she didn’t mind all that much. She had nothing to hide, and he wasn’t exactly hard to look at.

She unlocked her apartment door and ushered the children inside. Do you have homework?

Not much, Mark said, and tossed his backpack on the floor. "Couldn’t we watch a little TV first, please?"

You know your daddy likes you to have all your homework done before you watch anything. Crystal looked into the big, begging eyes of both boys staring back at her. They’d been through a lot this afternoon, and they behaved wonderfully. Maybe a little TV wouldn’t hurt. A half hour, she told them, and they hugged her legs quickly before running to the set and grabbing the remote.

She smiled at them and made a mental note to watch the time. They’d stare at the TV all night if she let them. In her room, she closed the door so she could change clothes. She tugged her blue, plaid waitress uniform off and tossed it into the hamper in the corner. Crystal grabbed jeans and a sweater and slipped into them. She released the clip from her hair and let it fall down around her shoulders. It was wild and unruly and she thought often about cutting it off. But when she looked in the mirror she couldn’t help liking the way the natural red locks framed her face, and fell on her shoulders. It made her feel good, and if she was honest with herself, it made her feel feminine. Crystal sighed. Maybe someday I’ll have enough self-assurance to do what I want with my hair. Confidence had never been her strong suit. Still maybe someday...she sighed again. Dream on.

She headed back out into the other room—the only ‘other room’ in the apartment except the small bathroom. The living room/kitchen combination was suitable for now, but someday...Crystal continued to dream...someday she’d have better.

She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a can of pop. Two left, and a half- gallon of milk, and then the cupboard would be bare. In the cabinet she found a partial bag of Oreos, the substance of the boys’ evening snack. She estimated there were enough cookies to last a couple more days.

Thankfully, Moe let them eat at the diner every day. Four o’clock was a little early for dinner, but he fed them substantially and gave them dessert after they ate their vegetables. With the breakfast and lunch their school provided, and the snack she gave them, Crystal thought the boys had enough to eat. It was a sad way to live, though. If they were her kids...Well, things would be different, that’s all. It was another of Crystal’s dreams. If she ever had children, she’d make sure there was plenty of food in the house, and they’d have a yard to play in, not a body to step over when they got home at the end of the day.

Okay, time’s up. She grabbed the remote after half an hour, and both boys attempted to guilt her with sorrowful looks. Forget it. She closed her eyes and held up one hand. It’s your daddy’s rule, not mine. He pays me to enforce it. Let’s go, homework first, then a snack. If there’s time you can watch some more TV or maybe we can play a game before bed.

They grudgingly picked up their backpacks and spread their homework out on the coffee table. Crystal smiled at them as they got to work. They were great kids. She’d never have agreed to watch them every day if they weren’t. Lord knows their father is a ruffian. She met Dave when she moved into the building six months ago. He and the boys were getting by, trying to form a routine after the death of his wife, Laura. Dave was hesitant when Crystal inquired how Laura died, until he finally admitted drugs were involved. An overdose of some kind, apparently, but he never wanted to talk about it.

Dave was a handsome devil with curly blonde hair and just a spot of a beard. Crystal had heard of people being described with ‘bedroom eyes’ before, but Dave’s smoky blues were the first she ever truly thought fit the description. She was attracted to him, but it didn’t take her long to realize lots of other women were, too, and he wasn’t shy about acting on it. A steady parade of women waltzed in and out of his place, and she had no desire to be one of them. Casual sex had never been her thing.

He hadn’t appreciated her decision and they argued about it for days. He tried to hit her once during their negotiations, but he was drunk and Crystal came out on the top of that skirmish. She knew Dave fully believed what she threatened to do to him if he ever tried to hit her again. Once he realized she was serious, he decided he needed her more for childcare than for sex. He could get that anywhere. He paid her to watch the kids, and Crystal felt she was providing some structure for them. Dave was usually loaded when he arrived home, and she was a gentle buffer between him and the boys. She’d help him get them to bed, and then sneak out while he either fell in the sack with someone else or tried to make Crystal change her mind for the umpteenth time. A sad way to live.

She looked at the clock as the boys finished their snack. Almost nine. Dave was usually home by then.

Daddy’s late. Mark saw her watching the clock.

A little. Crystal shrugged. He knew I didn’t have plans tonight. I guess he decided to go out for a while.

Devon yawned and Crystal helped him wash his hands and clean up the table.