COLD CASE

Miscarriage

By J. B. Tilton (a.k.a. NoAzMale) and Teri Thibeault (a.k.a. Tessalynne)

Emails:

evilgidget_

Rating: K+

* * *

Disclaimer: "Cold Case" and all related characters and events are the property of Jerry Bruckheimer and the CBS Corporation, except for those characters specifically created for this story. This is a work of fan fiction and no infringement of copyright is intended.

* * *

(Authors' note: This story takes place between season 1 episodes "Our Boy Is Back" and "Churchgoing People".)

* * *

The team reopens a 14-year-old murder case where a man is all ready serving a life sentence for the murder. Except the victim turns out to still be alive.

* * *

PROLOGUE

September 17, 1989, 6:17 p.m.

Kyle Lord downed the shot of whiskey and placed the empty glass upside down next to the other six all ready on the bar. He motioned to the bartender for another shot.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" questioned the bartender.

"I'll let you know when I've had enough," said Lord. "Just set me up again."

Just then another man came in the door to the bar. He looked around and then centered in on Lord. Quietly he moved over and took a seat next to Lord.

"So this is where you are," said the man. "I've been looking all over for you. Tamara's worried sick about you."

"Well, well, if it isn't my old buddy, Gayland," said Lord, looking up in disgust at Gayland. "Come to gloat have you, old buddy?"

"Kyle, what are you talking about?"

"You know damn good and well what I'm talking about. You and Tamara, that's what I'm talking about you."

"Kyle, you're crazy. There's nothing going on between Tamara and me. Why would you think that?"

"I found the receipt for the hotel, old buddy," said Lord. "The one where you and Tamara spend your time. You thought I didn't know, didn't you? Well, I do know. I've known for a while now."

"Kyle, you're crazy. You're my best friend. I'd never do anything like that to you."

"You're a liar," said Lord, pushing Gayland away. "I know she's been seeing someone for several weeks. Since we separated. I just didn't know who it was until I saw her car and yours at that hotel. Don't deny it. You know it was your car."

"You're drunk. And even sober you can't tell a Chevy from a Cadillac. You never were very good at telling cars apart. Come on. Let's get you home."

As Gayland tried to help Lord up, Lord suddenly took a swing at him. But the alcohol he had consumed was all ready beginning to affect him. His swing went wild and he stumbled from the stool, barely able to keep from falling to the floor.

"You stay away from me you Benedict Arnold. It was you, I know it was. I ought to kill you for what you've done. You're a backstabbing bastard, that's what you are. Get out of here. You disgust me."

"Kyle, come one. You don't know what you're saying. Let's get you home where you can sleep this off."

Lord took another swing at Gayland and this time he connected sending Gayland clamoring to the floor. Gayland stood up and rubbed his chin.

"Kyle, you don't know what you're saying. You're drunk."

"So what? After what you and Tamara have done to me, I think I have a right to be drunk."

"You have this all wrong. There's nothing going on between Tamara and me. We're just friends. Just like you and I are friends. That's all."

"Yeah, right. I think you'd better leave. Before I do something we'll both regret."

Gayland looked at Lord and realized he was in no mood to talk. Maybe after he sobered up he'd be more willing to listen to reason. Dejectedly he turned and left the bar.

"Get out of here," the bartender said to Lord. "You've caused enough trouble for one day."

"Yeah, whatever," said Lord, turning and heading for the door. "I need to teach him a lesson anyway."

September 17, 1989, 10:42 p.m.

The detectives got out of their car and walked to the place where the uniformed officers were standing. Behind the uniformed officers the guardrail on the bridge was ripped open. One of the detectives glanced into the river below and saw a car lying on its side in the water below. The current was unusually strong this night.

"Officer Vera," said one of the detectives, "what have you got?"

"A car was apparently forced off the road here," said the officer, pointing at the breach in the railing. "There's a vagrant who saw the whole thing. My partner is taking his statement now."

"I don't see a body," said the other detective.

"It may still be trapped in the car," said Vera, looking at the water below. "Of course, with that current it's possible the body may have washed downstream."

"You think whoever was in that car is dead?" asked the first detective.

"That's my guess," said Vera. "From what the vagrant said there's no way whoever was driving it could have survived the impact."

"What's the vagrant have to say?" asked the detective.

"Apparently this car had just started across the bridge when another car came up behind it," said Vera. "He slammed into the back of the car several times and then moved around to the side of it. After that it slammed into the side of the car several times until it forced the first one through the railing."

"Could he give you any details on the other car?" asked the detective.

"No, sir," said Vera. "He was too far away for that. But he did say that after the car went over the side the first car stopped and the driver got out and looked over the edge of the bridge for a few minutes and then got back into his car and drove off."

"Any description on the man?" asked the detective.

"Just generalities," said Vera. "General height, general build, nothing specific. He says he was too far away to get any details."

"Make sure the car is towed in," said the detective. "We might be able to get something off it that will help us identify the other car."

"Yes, sir," said Vera.

The detectives turned and headed for the vagrant to get his statement firsthand.

ONE

October 15, 2003

Lilly and Will were just coming to the police station when they saw Nick walking up from the opposite direction. Only Nick wasn't alone. He was leading a young man into the station. A man who had his hands cuffed behind his back. The man looked to be in his late teens or early twenties.

"Bringing a friend to work today?" Lilly joked, smiling at Nick.

"Can you believe it?" Nick asked. "I'm coming into work this morning and this mook tries to mug me."

"What happened?" Will asked.

"He had a knife," said Nick, opening his jacket to reveal his sidearm. "I had a gun. No contest."

"Real bright," Will said to the man.

"How was I supposed to know he was a cop?" the man complained.

"Well now you'll have a nice long time to think about it," said Nick. "I'll get him processed and then I'll be up. Lilly, tell the boss we'll be up when we done."

"Sure thing," said Lilly. "Have fun."

Nick half smiled at the joke and continued to lead the young man into booking. It didn't take him long to book the assailant. He was fingerprinted, his mug shot was taken, and his information was taken. Then Nick led him to a holding cell where he would wait until a lawyer showed up and he was arraigned.

Nick stopped for a moment and said hi to one of the uniforms in the holding area. They had served together and Nick stopped in to see him every once in a while. As they were chatting Nick looked around at the people in the cells. All sorts were currently awaiting arraignment. On any given day there would be people awaiting arraignment on charges ranging from murder to parking tickets.

As he scanned the cells his gaze fell on a man sitting in one corner. The man was dressed in a non-descript suit and appeared to be in his mid-40s. He seemed to be bored and was looking around.

"He looks familiar," said Nick. "What's his story?"

"Let me see," said the officer. He walked over and rifled through some papers on the desk. "Oh yeah. He came in yesterday. I was off then. His name is Gayland Martin. Ran a red light and hit a parked car. No insurance and no valid driver's license. Got his ID off an expired license from 1992."

"Martin?" questioned Nick, taking the paper from the officer. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Says here the only ID he had on him was the expired license from '92. He came in late last night so they haven't processed the paperwork yet. I assume they're doing that right now. Why? You know this guy?"

"Not exactly," said Nick, looking back at the man who was sitting in the cell. "I investigated his murder in 1989."

* * *

"You sure about this, Nick?" Stillman asked after Nick had gone to the squad room. "Fourteen years is a long time. Is it possible you could have gotten this mixed up with another one of your old cases?"

"No way, boss," said Nick, pulling a paper out of the printer. He handed the paper to Stillman. "See? Gayland Martin. Murdered when his car was forced off the University Avenue Bridge on September 17, 1989. The body was never recovered. The detectives investigating the case assumed the body had been thrown from the car and eventually washed out to the ocean."

"Was the doer ever caught?" Will asked.

"Yes," said Nick. "His best friend, Kyle Lord, eventually went to prison for the murder. They had had an argument earlier in the evening. Something about Martin sleeping with Lord's wife. Lord didn't have an alibi and claimed he couldn't remember what had happened that night. Said he was sleeping off a drunk. Plus they matched up damage to Lord's car to the damage caused to Martin's car when he was forced off the bridge."

"Sounds like a slam dunk," said Lilly.

"It was," said Nick. "Lord pleaded out to avoid a death penalty. My guess is he's still sitting in prison for the murder."

"Only now the murder victim turns up alive in Philly," said Stillman. "The question is, where has Martin been for the past 14 years and why did he let his best friend go to prison for a murder he didn't commit?"

"We can ask him when he gets up here," said Nick. "I'm having Martin brought up so we can question him. Since he's still alive Kyle Lord shouldn't be in prison."

"Unless he wasn't driving that night," said Lilly. "Maybe someone else was driving his car that night. Which means Lord may still be guilty of murder."

"That's why I'm having him brought up," said Nick. "I want to get this sorted out."

"Let me know what you come up with," said Stillman, picking up his coffee cup and heading for his office.