B. Cochrane Clark

The Fighter Within


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anything that could possibly be evidence.”

      Cody smirked. “You know me, I don’t trust that anyone can do as thorough of a job as us.”

      Dustin rolled his eyes and teased, “And by ‘us’ you really mean you.”

      “No, absolutely no.” But even saying it, Cody knew he was probably right. That was something he really needed to work on, he thought to himself as he headed to the back of the house to search the bedrooms.

      After searching both bedrooms and the bathroom again, Cody checked his watch, surprised to find it after 6:00 p.m. “Damn, I didn’t realize how late it was,” he said to his partner as he made his way down the hall and back into the living room. “Find anything?”

      “Well, maybe. Is it just me or do these photos all look photoshopped?”

      Cody stared at the photo his partner handed him. “You know, possibly. But if so that’s impressive Photoshop skills.”

      “Not necessarily, could just be a great program. My sister has this awesome Photoshop program that does pretty amazing stuff, even if you’re an amateur.” Dustin pulled another picture off the wall.

      “We need to take all these into the forensics lab and see what they can find on them,” Cody said, thinking to himself that maybe Dustin could hold his own after all. Not that he had ever given him a reason to think otherwise. It was just one of Cody’s quirks he needed to work on. Trusting others was not his strongest suit, and the last time he did, it didn’t end well.

      “Sounds good to me,” Dustin agreed.

      “Let’s get out of here and get these pictures to the lab, then call it a day. It’s a beautiful old home, though. I wouldn’t think on their salaries they could afford something like this. Not that it’s huge, but it is rather nice. Someone must have restored it at some point to take it from the late eighteen hundreds or early nineteen hundreds to modern times. Anyway, tomorrow we will start with their personal records and see what we can come up with there as well.”

      “Sounds good. Hey, Jackson, we’re having a guy’s poker night Friday, you should join us.”

      “Man, that sounds like a hell of a time. Way better than my plans, but I promised Stetsman I would go with all of them to the caterers to pin down the menu.” Cody was only half dreading the evening. He was happy for his best friend, but weddings, no thank you.

      Dustin’s face filled with confusion. “Who all is going?”

      “Jake, his soon-to-be-wife, and her sister, the maid of honor. I have met his wife, Tessa, several times. She’s a spitfire but really sweet. I haven’t met her sister, though. Should be nice and uncomfortable.”

      “Sister, hmm. And you said maid of honor, so she isn’t married. Maybe you should be the one to step out of your comfort zone,” Dustin said, looking pleased with himself for being able to finally get a shot in on his partner.

      “Yeah, not going to happen. I have my own crap to deal with, I don’t need some dame and her drama to add to it.”

      “Look at the pot calling the kettle black.”

      Cody grumbled under his breath as they headed out to his car and back to the station. He needed some time to himself. He would never admit it to anyone, but being back in the thick of it was exhilarating, yes, but it also drained him.

      *****

      “Tess, they are all beautiful, but you can only wear one, and this one is it, if you ask me. I know it’s not my decision, but you look amazing.” Sydney gushed over Tessa and her dress. The dress was simple but elegant with strapless shoulders, high waist just under her breast tied up with a small red satin ribbon that had a beautiful delicate bow in the front and long tendrils that tied in the back and then ran down the length of the dress. Not all that traditional to have color on your wedding dress, but it was so elegant and striking. It fit Tess’s personality perfectly, pure with a streak of fire.

      Evelyn smiled softly at her youngest daughter. “She’s right, Tess, that dress looks like it was designed just for you.”

      “Thank you. I agree, I love this one. It will go with the flowers perfectly as well, the red roses—and thank God I finally found the other flower I wanted. Don’t you think white lilies are perfect? I mean, we could have gone with the gardenias, they were beautiful too. Do you think I made a mistake? Should I have gone with the gardenias?”

      Evelyn could tell Tess was starting to panic. Walking over to her daughter, she softly reached for both of her hands and held them in her own. “You made the right choice. Calm down and breathe. The lilies are beautiful and they go amazing with the red roses.”

      Sydney watched her sister’s stress melt away. It was amazing to her how their mom could ease her sister, and herself for that matter. In just a matter of a seconds. A soft touch and kind words, and all the love her mom held in her heart, made everything okay, no matter how bad things got.

      Sydney remembered when she had first woken up in the hospital. She had been so confused. She hurt so badly, but couldn’t for the life of her think of why she would be in the hospital and why she felt like a train ran her over. She was struggling to wake up and her brain was mush. There was a nurse to her side taking her blood pressure.

      “Good morning, Sydney, I’m Nurse Jillian, so glad to see you open those beautiful eyes of yours.”

      Why was she so groggy, and why did she hurt so bad? Trying to move and sit up, a hand laid softly on her shoulder. It was her mom. Thank God, a familiar face. Sydney looked to her mom for answers, but all she saw in her eyes was heartbreak. “Mom, what’s going on? What happened? Why am I in the hospital? Did I get in a wreck? Why do I hurt so bad?”

      “Shh, calm down, it’s okay, Syd. It’s all going to be all right. You just need to breathe. I’m here.” Her mother assured her of this while she stroked her hair and held her hand.

      “I’ll go get Dr. Anderson, let him know she’s awake,” Nurse Jillian said as she hurried out the door.

      Her mother continued to hold her while they waited for the doctor, stroking her hair and rubbing her thumb across the top of her hand as she had so many times growing up. It wasn’t long before the doctor came into the room. Sydney hoped he had answers for her.

      “Hi, Sydney, I’m Dr. Anderson, how are you feeling?”

      “Like I was hit by a freight train and it drug me a mile before it dumped me in the mountains to die alone. What happened? Was I in a car wreck? Because I don’t even remember getting into a car. I don’t understand why people will not tell me what is going on.” Sydney was starting to freak out, and if she didn’t get answers soon, she was going to blow.

      “It’s okay, Sydney, it’s perfectly normal to not remember right away. What you went through was very traumatic and your mind has blocked it out. You may or may not ever remember what happened,” the doctor explained.

      “Back to my point, what in the hell happened to me!”

      “Sydney, dear, calm down, Dr. Anderson will explain everything, but you need to calm down.” Evelyn’s voice was stern but soft, something Sydney was very familiar with growing up. This meant you had better listen to her before you were in big-ass trouble. How, at the age of twenty-three, her mom was still able to make her stop her attitude and listen was beyond her.

      “You were not in a wreck or hit by a train. Sydney, do you remember anything from the other night?”

      “No, doc. I don’t. If I had, I wouldn’t have to ask you!”

      “Sydney!” Evelyn snapped back.

      “Sorry, no, I don’t, and what do you mean the other night? How long have I been in here?”

      “Since early Sunday morning. You were brought in about one a.m. We sedated you for forty-eight hours to help your body heal after the surgery. It’s important that you try and stay calm and not add