Faces of Evil [4] Rage (30 page)

“You wore gloves? Shoe covers?”

She nodded. “I was very careful.” Except for the bottle. Damn it. She had touched the bottle after taking off the gloves. She hadn’t meant to but little Gary had started crying again and she’d known he needed more milk if there was any hope of him settling down for the night.

But he’d already had a bottle full.

That was when she knew someone was in the house. So she’d pretended to leave and waited.

It was the kid from next door! The worry and fear twisted in her belly. He’d been hiding in the baby’s closet, which meant he’d probably seen her.

“Why was the boy hanging around the house?”

“I guess he heard the baby crying and came to see if he was okay.”

“It’s that retarded kid, isn’t it?”

“He’s not retarded. He’s autistic.” Please let him focus on the kid and not on her.
Please, please.

“Can he tell that cop bitch he saw you?”

She thought about that for a second. She’d seen him staring out his bedroom windows before. Gabrielle always said he never talked the once or twice he came over. He just showed up in her backyard and watched her and the baby for a while without ever saying a word.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t repeat exactly what he saw and heard if he chose.

“That’s possible, I guess. But it was dark.” Her heart started that painful thumping.

“Then he might not be able to ID you.”

She licked her trembling lips. “I hope not.”

He grabbed her by the hair and jerked her face toward his. “If he does, you’re fucked. You know that, right? I won’t save you.”

“I know,” she whimpered.

“We have to make sure this kid goes away. Permanently.”

Maybe there was still a chance she could make this right. She swallowed back the lump of fear in her throat. “I understand. I’ve taken the first steps toward protecting our family.”

“Is that right?”

She nodded, hope that he would see how smart she was blooming in her chest.

“If you fuck up again, they’ll nail you for this. Do you have any idea what they’ll do to you in prison? You’ll never see the babies again. And I’ll find me another woman. One who’s smart and sexy and who doesn’t fuck shit up!”

“I won’t mess up,” she promised, her heart pounding.
What if she already had?

“Do it after the service,” he ordered. “That bitch Harris is getting too close.” He grabbed Sarah by the hair and pulled her face to his. “Remember, even if the police don’t discover your fuckups, I know all your secrets. You mess this up and we’re done.”

That was the part that scared her the most.

Maple Road, First United Methodist Church, 5:00 p.m.

T
hey barely got through the doors of the church before the service began. There was standing room only and she and Burnett were way at the back.

Jess left him gaping after her as she eased through the crowd until she was closer to the front. To Grayson and what was left of his family. She needed to see who surrounded him and how they reacted as the service played out.

Burnett stayed put at the back, no doubt appalled at her behavior.

Anyone in the church who knew her wouldn’t be shocked. Anyone who didn’t, well, what they thought didn’t really matter.

The pews were lined with uniformed officers. Though the service was not for an officer, many had chosen to pay their respects dressed in their honor uniform. The choir loft filled with robed members was a spectacular sight. Lawrence Grayson had certainly ensured a proper send-off for his wife.

Sergeant Jack Riley and his wife, Sarah, sat in the front pew with Grayson and his mother-in-law. But it was Sarah Riley who held Grayson’s baby. Made sense, Jess supposed. If the child started to cry she could easily step out of the sanctuary. Grayson and his mother-in-law could remain focused on the somber event and their final moments with Gabrielle.

All in the sanctuary who weren’t already standing rose to their feet, hymnals in hand, as a fervent rendition of “Amazing Grace” filled the room. Most knew the words or at least part of them. Jess knew the chorus and that was about it.

Church hadn’t really been a part of her life since she was a kid.

She considered the young woman next to Sergeant Riley. Sarah expertly balanced the baby and the hymnal. Sarah was three years younger than Gabrielle had been; her two children were obviously with a sitter or relative since they weren’t in attendance. While Jess watched, Riley put his arm around his wife’s shoulder and leaned down and kissed her temple.

The two made a lovely couple. But there was something not so lovely and happy beneath the facade the Rileys showed the world. There was an ugliness that grew from control and rigidity and demands. Sarah Riley lived to please her husband. Maybe Jess was reading too much into what she’d learned and seen so far, but she couldn’t let it go.

She had called the victim twice the night of the murder. Why? If she or she and her husband had committed this heinous murder what was the motive? Why would they kill a woman they seemed to adore?

Why was Gabrielle Grayson dead? What was the motive behind the act that took her life?

Until they had that answer, all the supposition and scenarios in the world wouldn’t solve this case.

Jess’s attention turned to the front of the church, where mountains of flower arrangements surrounded the ornate ivory coffin. Two large peace lilies anchored each side of the coffin. Jess shuddered at the memory of the last peace lily she’d seen. Eric Spears had sent it to Burnett’s hospital room. Jess resisted the impulse to check her cell just to see if he’d sent her a text. She hadn’t gotten anything else from him since the
pleasant dreams
message. He did love to play games. He’d rattled her. She couldn’t deny it.

The cloying scent of the flowers reminded her of another event she’d just as soon forget. Her parents’ funeral. There had been two large peace lilies that day, too.

Jess exiled the memories. She had a job to do here.

Two of Gabrielle’s close friends who had flown in from Nashville spoke about what a beautiful and loving person she was. One went on to assure those listening that God had needed another angel in heaven and Gabrielle had gone to fill that glorious position.

Jess thought of what Devon had said about an angel taking the mommy. The only problem with that theory was that whoever killed Gabrielle Grayson didn’t live in heaven. In fact, Jess was relatively sure, he would never so much as see heaven.

For another thirty minutes Jess watched the people gathered around Lawrence Grayson. Not one of them looked uncomfortable or out of place. None were missing.

Had one of these people killed Gabrielle? Was that very person going to be sharing their condolences with Grayson? Offering to help any way they could? That was the traditional thing to do down here, the offering of help part.

The baby grew restless and Sarah hurried out of the sanctuary with the baby in her arms and a bottle in her hand.

Several sets of fingerprints had been on that bottle found in the baby’s crib. Gabrielle’s and her baby’s, of course. Devon’s, his had been confirmed after he went missing, and one unknown.

Jess’s gut was telling her that Gabrielle’s killer not only knew her but was a cop. Her money was on Riley. Yet there was no match for the remaining set of prints. All BPD cops were in the database.

When the sanctuary had emptied, Jess caught up with Burnett once more. She was anxious to get out of here and back to work.

“You okay?” she asked.

Burnett was staring at her kind of funny. She instinctively reached up and swiped her cheek for any offending smudges.

He shrugged. “I was just thinking about how short life really is.”

Jess knew he was thinking about finding that bomb in the Taurus. She looked out over the now empty pews, beyond the choir loft, and to the enormous wall of stained glass. Lil went to a church like this. The thought that she could be really sick and Jess might find herself at a service like this again in the near future suddenly made her knees feel a little wobbly.

“It really is.” She swallowed at the lump of emotion now clogging her throat. Lily had been all upbeat last night when they talked. Dr. Collins had decided he wanted to run more tests and that maybe she wasn’t just depressed.

Time to put the past hour and thoughts of illness and death out of her head. That idea should have had her laughing out loud. Death was a big part of her job.

She dug for her cell and checked for any missed calls. One from Lori. As Jess followed Burnett to his SUV, she put through a call to Lori.

“You learn something new?” she asked as soon as Lori answered.

“I got a call from one of Gabrielle’s former coworkers. She wants to talk. This is one of the two who insisted they had nothing worth telling.”

Jess snapped her seat belt into place. “When can we see her?”

“Right now.”

“Meet me outside BPD.”

“Will do.”

Jess ended the call and turned to Burnett. “Another one of Gabrielle’s coworkers wants to talk.” She felt almost breathless with hope. Maybe this time, they would learn something beyond what a saint Gabrielle was.

“Keep me posted on the results. We need this one closed, Jess. The whole department wants this killer found.”

“No one wants that more than me,” Jess reminded him.

He hesitated a moment, then said, “So Wesley left today.”

She had known that was coming. “He did.”

“Dropped by for a visit last night, I hear.”

“He did,” Jess repeated.

“And?” Burnett sent her a look.

“We ate Chinese. We drank wine and we talked.”

“He wants you back, doesn’t he?”

Jess considered how best to answer that one. “He wants me to keep in touch.”

“I knew it!” Burnett slammed the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. “I knew it from the moment he said your name that first night. He’s still hung up on you.”

It would be nice to say she wasn’t getting any glee out of this but that would be a lie. “Who knows?”

Burnett whipped his fancy Mercedes into the nearest parking lot. He jammed the gear shift into park and turned to Jess. “Are you still hung up on him?” he demanded. “Just tell me the truth, Jess. If that’s how you feel… I’ll understand.”

The set of his jaw told her he was mad as hell but the hurt in his eyes was about uncertainty and no small amount of desperation. “I am
not
still hung up on Wesley. I fully intend to keep in touch because it’s the right thing to do. But I don’t want to be with him.”

The relief on Burnett’s face, in his eyes, was almost her undoing. “Okay.”

He faced forward once more, shifted into drive, and eased back onto the highway.

They rode in silence. She felt a little off balance and she was pretty sure he did too. He’d said a mouthful. Jess reached out and took his hand. He glanced at her and she smiled.

One step at a time.

Bessemer, 6:55 p.m.

Rochelle Arnold’s home was in a comfortable neighborhood. She had three children, all boys under the age of ten, who were busy in the backyard attempting to dismantle the new tree fort their father had built for them. Jess felt confident that if the father wasn’t home soon he would find a pile of lumber and a bucket of nails for all his hard work designing and constructing the elaborate structure.

“We appreciate you taking the time out of your busy schedule to see us, Mrs. Arnold.”

“When the administrator first mentioned that the cops were asking questions about Gabrielle, I sort of blew it off.” She pushed her brown hair behind her ears as if she were accustomed to wearing it out of the way. “I didn’t want to speak badly of anyone. But then the rumors starting floating around about how she died and that there was still no real suspects and I felt guilty for not speaking up.”

Jess’s fingers tightened on her pencil. “We are very glad you decided to talk to us.”

“If I’m speaking ill of anyone and I’m wrong,” she went on, “I hope the Lord will forgive me.”

Jess nodded when what she really wanted to do was tell her to get on with it.

“Until she decided to become a stay at home mom, I worked with Gabrielle. She was my supervisor. There were four of us who were pretty good pals. Took breaks together when we could. Even shopped and lunched together occasionally. Especially around the holidays. There was Gabrielle, Netty Winters, Sarah Riley, and me.”

“Sounds like you were close,” Jess nudged.

“We covered for each other when things came up. If I needed to be off to take one of the boys to the doctor, one of them would take my shift and then I’d take theirs. It made life a lot simpler and the paper pushers like the administrator always appreciate our working things out so they don’t have to.

“Anyway, two years ago last month Gabrielle learned from one of the patients who was a recovering opiate addict that Sarah had asked him repeatedly about his drug connection. Sometimes recovering addicts will say things like that because they’re desperate.”

“Was an investigation conducted into his accusation?” Jess asked, anticipation sending her pulse into high gear.