Cold Case Secrets. Maggie K. Black

Cold Case Secrets - Maggie K. Black


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on its head.

      Thank you so much to all of you who’ve shared the journey of Jacob, Trent, Max and Nick with me. Something affected me really deeply about these brothers—how their sister’s death impacted them, the way they were driven to serve others and the strong, extraordinary women who fell in love with them. I like how they each found healing, purpose, love and faith. I will miss writing about them very much. Thank you so much to all of you who wrote letters to me about these books, especially Nancy Tekulve, who asked me to include Trent and Chloe’s wedding, and Merianne Bawden, who asked for an update on Daniel and Olivia.

      I’m also grateful for everything I’ve learned about Canada’s military, paramedics and law enforcement through writing these books, and the deeper appreciation I’ve developed for the work they do. May we always remember to appreciate the real heroes and heroines in our midst.

      Thank you so much for sharing this journey with me,

       Maggie

      For I knew that thou art a gracious God, and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness, and repentest thee of the evil.

      —Jonah 4:2b

      With thanks to Constable Eran Schwartz for showing me around his helicopter, training with me at the dojo and answering countless questions. You are a shining example of the kind of person all those in law enforcement should be. Thanks to Pastor Josh Darsaut for the Bible verse and your unexpected grace on a rough day. Thanks as always to my agent, Melissa Jeglinski, and editor, Emily Rodmell, for your help and support on this journey. And finally, thanks to all of you who were there for me while I was writing this difficult book. I hope you enjoy it.

      Contents

       Cover

       Back Cover Text

       About the Author

       Booklist

       Title Page

       Copyright

      Note to Readers

       Introduction

       Dear Reader

       Bible Verse

       Dedication

       ONE

       TWO

       THREE

       FOUR

       FIVE

       SIX

       SEVEN

       EIGHT

       NINE

       TEN

       ELEVEN

       TWELVE

       THIRTEEN

       FOURTEEN

       EPILOGUE

       Extract

       About the Publisher

       ONE

      The thrumming of the helicopter rotors were like a steady drum beat pounding through Jacob Henry’s mind as the Royal Canadian Mounted Police detective scanned the monitor for any sign of life in the dense Ontario forest below. Outside the cockpit window, the summer sun was just beginning its descent behind thick and oppressive clouds. Silvery outlines of opal raindrops traced streaks down the windshield. Tense words between the young Search and Rescue pilot sitting beside him and the testy East Coast detective in the back seat filled his headset.

      “I’m just saying that when the wind picks up and the rain hits for real, we’re going to be forced to turn back,” the pilot, Kevin Faust, said. “I don’t want to crash.”

      “And I’m just saying when you’ve flown as many flights as I have, you know what you can get away with,” Detective Warren Scott shot back.

      “As a hobby pilot,” Kevin said. “Not a professional with Search and Rescue.”

      Jacob focused on the black-and-white screen ahead of him, searching for the bright glare of a human heat signature.

       Wherever the escaped convicts are, Lord, and whoever ultimately finds them, please may those killers be recaptured tonight.

      Authorities were scrambling across Ontario to find three convicted killers who’d overpowered their guards and forced the prison van transporting them to crash on the Trans-Canada Highway almost twenty miles north of the maze of trees and towering rocks that made up Algonquin Provincial Park. While local police searched nearby towns and buildings, and provincial police checked the roads, Jacob and Warren had volunteered for the aerial search of the almost three-thousand-square mile provincial park. Home to over two thousand lakes and seven-hundred-and-fifty miles of river, it was a haven for the kind of off-the-grid campers who enjoyed hiking and canoeing for days into the middle of nowhere.

      They might as well have been searching for a quarter in a cornfield.

      “They’re probably not even out here,” Kevin argued, speaking into his headset microphone to be heard over the sound of the rotors. “If I’d just escaped a concrete box, the last place I’d be hiding out is somewhere with no running water or electricity.”

      Maybe not. But moments ago, there’d been a blip, a heat signature, that had lit up the screen for a fleeting moment like a beacon. They just had to find it again.

      Jacob


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