Authors: Ronica Black
“There’s a way to prove it,” Liz whispered to her at the elevator. “I just didn’t know if you would be willing to show them.”
“What? I’ll do anything, just tell me.”
“The tapes. The security tapes from my house. The ones in the back of the house hopefully weren’t damaged or affected by the power outage. If they were working, they should have us on them.”
“Okay.” Erin was ready to go and get them as quickly as possible.
“Wait,” Liz whispered a little louder. “Watch them first. And if you still want to use them, give them to Cynthia, my attorney. She’ll handle it.”
*
Two days later, Erin stood waiting once again at the police department. As she killed time, she looked around at the place once so familiar to her. A place where she had spent countless hours poring over files, following up leads or doing mindless paperwork, all of it an attempt to distract her from her lonely, mundane life, her unhappy marriage. Now the place felt foreign to her, almost uncomfortable. She tried to sit down but found that she couldn’t stay still. Her nerves were edgy, preventing her from relaxing as she waited for the word on her lover.
She had gone back to the house in the hills the day before to retrieve the security tapes only to be turned away at the door by her colleagues. The place had been under siege, with police personnel searching every last inch of the expensive property, convinced they finally had Liz for something, even if it wasn’t the serial killings.
Erin had pitched a fit at first and demanded entry, but when her former friends threatened to arrest her for interfering with an investigation she had walked away. Temper boiling, she then called Liz’s attorney and informed her about the tapes. That was the last she’d heard until an hour ago when Cynthia had called her, letting her know she had the tapes and they proved Liz was home at the time of the fire. She was planning to show this evidence to the police.
As Erin waited, she paced and watched her feet. She didn’t know exactly what was on the tapes; she had no idea where the security cameras were positioned. But they had to show some activity in the yard during the hours in question. Envisioning the usual distant, grainy security camera images, she hoped the picture quality was good enough for them to ID Liz conclusively.
A door opened and several male detectives walked past her, eyeing her the whole way. She heard their snickers and knew that it was probably all over the station that she had shouted at Sergeant Ruiz and was some kind of basket case.
“Hey Mac.” She turned as J.R. walked up behind her. “Are you crazy? You shouldn’t be here.”
“Why not?”
“Why not?” He looked past her to the male detectives. “Because you and Adams are the hottest thing out there right now.”
“What?”
He cupped her elbow and led her away from the stares and the snickering. “The tapes, man. It’s all over the department. Everyone’s dying to see the Mac and Adams pool porno.”
Erin nearly collapsed on the spot. “Oh God.” That was why Liz had wanted her to watch the tapes first. “Have you seen it?” she asked, wondering who all had.
“Nah.” He shook his head. “I tried like hell, though.”
She ignored his playfulness, far too concerned about the seriousness of her present situation. “So everybody knows?”
“’Fraid so.”
She sighed and finally took the seat she had been avoiding, dropping her head into her hands. She had been so thrilled to think that Liz had an alibi, she hadn’t even considered the content of the tapes. “There is good news, though.” J.R. took the seat next to her. “That video is one hot little get out of jail free card.”
“It better be.” If her career hadn’t been over already, it would be now.
Two more men walked by, both of them staring openly at her. “Is that her?” one asked. “Man she is hot,” the other said.
“Hey, fuck face!” J.R. yelled out. “You gotta problem?” He stood up, puffing out his chest like a pigeon. The two men walked quicker, eager to get away from the crazy man with the accent. “That’s what I thought,” he called after them. “Fucking assholes.” He sank back down into his chair.
Erin choked back tears and whispered, mainly to herself, “What am I going to do?”
He rested his arm around her slumped shoulders and said, “Hey, it’s gonna be all right. Look at it this way—porn pays a hell of a lot better than police work.”
“Thanks, J.R.” She couldn’t help but laugh. She was too tired and overwhelmed by the situation to do much else. “You’re a real pal.”
“Don’t mention it. Now, I gotta go get to work. But the next time you girls wanna make a video, call me. I heard the sound on that thing was terrible.” He jumped away from her as she swung at him.
*
“Why did you do it?” Liz asked as they left the police station a short while later.
“I didn’t get a chance to view them,” Erin said. “They wouldn’t let me. So I told your attorney to go ahead.”
“Are you insane?” Having seen the tapes for herself, Liz could only imagine what they would do to Erin’s reputation in the department. She was more than outed and would never escape the gossip.
“I think I may be.” Erin’s laughter sounded nervous. “They were that bad, huh?”
Liz wrapped her arm around Erin’s shoulders and pulled her in closer as they walked. If the situation hadn’t been so difficult for her lover, the heated scenes in the pool and the spa would’ve definitely turned her on. “Let’s just say that you are one hell of a responsive lover, Erin McKenzie.”
“Great.”
“I’m so sorry,” Liz said, feeling incredibly guilty about the whole situation. She cringed as she realized how much Erin had suffered throughout this whole ordeal. And it wasn’t over yet. Jay had to be found before anyone else got hurt, Erin especially.
“Don’t be sorry.” Erin looked up at her, eyes bright with emotion. “The tapes freed you. That’s all that matters.”
“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” They stopped at the car. “Sacrificing yourself like that for me.”
Erin started to say something but then stopped.
“What?” Liz probed, gently cupping her face in her hands.
“I love you,” Erin confessed softly, her eyes searching Liz’s face. “I know it seems so soon to be saying such powerful words, but…it’s what I feel.”
With her heart bursting, Liz placed a gentle, lingering kiss on her lips. Holding Erin’s gaze as she drew back, she said, “I love you too.”
*
“Where’s Kristen Reece?” Patricia stood in front of her partner’s desk, her anger barely under control.
“I don’t know,” Gary said. “She’s in hiding. She says Adams tried to have her killed and got someone else by mistake.”
“So we could cut a deal. Her testimony against Adams. In exchange she does time on a conspiracy charge. Ruiz could talk the DA into that.” Frustration pounded in her temples. She needed for this to be over once and for all. She needed to move on. Get her life back.
“You’re still sure Adams is involved?”
“She has to be.”
Gary gave her an odd look.
Patricia returned one of her own. “Are you saying you’re not?”
He shrugged. “You know me. Evidence is what counts.”
“Then I had better find some before Ruiz pulls the plug on us.”
“Someone framed her for that fire,” Gary pointed out.
“Or she set that fire and framed herself, knowing she had that tape to prove her innocence!” Patricia shot back. Her temper was showing. She hated feeling so out of control. But she wouldn’t put it past Liz to hatch a scheme like that. She’d probably sent one of her cronies in to do the dirty work while she fucked a cop in her pool. That sounded just like the Liz she knew. And as far as alibis went, they didn’t get any better. Patricia stared off, her mind racing. So if Kristen Reece wasn’t the crony this time, who was?
She searched her mind for answers, and finding none, she said, “I think it’s time I took a trip to Alabama.”
“What’s in Alabama?” Gary sounded lost.
“Adams spent her childhood there. ” They had briefly searched the run-down town after the shooting, thinking she might be hiding there. Turning up nothing, they had retreated. Now Patricia wasn’t so sure that they had looked hard enough.
“And you think there’s something there we’ve missed?”
“There’s a piece missing, Gary. And whatever it is, it’s not here.” She headed for the door, certain in her gut that she was right about this.
“When will you be back?” Gary called after her.
“When I have something more than I do now.”
Arcane, Alabama
The smell of decaying flesh was unforgettable. Patricia recognized its unique aroma as she stood before the unkempt house Elizabeth Adams had grown up in. The day was warm and humid, and the air hung heavy, holding fast to the rotting smell of death.
Delaying the inevitable, she kicked at a stone buried in the thick green grass and contemplated her options. She hadn’t introduced herself to the local sheriff yet, a discourtesy that might be held against her. Too bad, she decided, breathing through her mouth as she climbed the rotting steps to the porch. She had come for answers, and answers she was determined to get.
She was glad she had worn her boots, because she had to kick in the front door. The body that had alerted her of its presence with its smell wasn’t hard to find. After checking to make sure the place was empty, she put away her gun and entered the front room, where it sat propped up in an old, worn recliner facing the front door, a twisted greeting to whoever stumbled upon it. The cause of death was pretty evident as well—a dime-sized bullet hole piercing the center of the forehead.
At first she wasn’t able to tell if the body was male or female. Its state of decomposition was so advanced that the body was grotesquely bloated, blown up like a balloon by trapped gases. It wasn’t until she approached it cautiously that she saw the woman’s ID lying open in her lap, as if on display.
Patricia read the ID without touching it. Shane Wilson, a thirty-five-year-old private investigator from Valle Luna, Arizona. She recognized the name at once as that of a former cop she knew. That fact, coupled with the overpowering smell, sent her reeling backward to the porch, where she heaved the contents of her stomach over the side.
She spat out the bitter taste, called in her discovery, and retreated to her car to wait for the local sheriff. What was Wilson doing in Arcane, Alabama, and who had killed her?
She didn’t have to wait long for the first deputy to show up, a light-haired man with a thin, downy moustache. He seemed unimpressed with her. A Yankee. Sniffing around in their backyard.
After the introductions, he said, “You seen anyone else since you been here?”
“You mean here at the house?”
He nodded.
“No.”
He looked her up and down. “You a friend of the Adamses?”
“Not exactly. I’m investigating a series of killings. This address came up in our inquiries.”
“I own property just up over the hill there.” He pointed but she didn’t bother to look. “That’s how come I get here so quick.”
“So you know the Adamses.”
“Well, I know for a fact that Jay Adams didn’t appreciate people snooping around on this property.”
“Well it’s a good thing he’s dead now, isn’t it?”
“Shoot, Jay Adams ain’t dead. I seen her just the other week.”
“Excuse me? Her?”
The deputy looked at her like she was dumbest thing he had ever come across. “Yes, her.”
“Who is Jay Adams, exactly?”
His brow creased and he squinted at her suspiciously. “Maybe you better just go on and lead me to the dead body before Sheriff Bowman gets here.”
“Wait a minute,” she said. “When you say Jay Adams, do you mean Elizabeth Adams?” For a brief moment she thought that the two might very well be one and the same.
“No. I haven’t seen Lizzie in years. I’m talking about Jay.” He cast a guilty look toward the house, as if the words were some sort of secret.
“And who is Jay?” She tried again, a little softer. She even batted her eyelashes and readied herself to act stupid. “I only know Elizabeth. She’s a good friend of mine, and well, I’m just curious to know who Jay is. I would love to meet her while I’m here.”
The deputy stood a little straighter and sucked in a big breath of air, pushing his small chest up and out. “Well, I guess it won’t do no harm. Jay is Lizzie’s sister. But best I know it, she high tailed it outta here last week.”
“Miller!” Another car rolled into the driveway and big, brawny Sheriff Jimmy Bowman made his way over to where they were standing. “What’s going on here?”
“I was just telling this lady about Jay, sir. She’s a friend of Lizzie’s and—”
“Jay?” he snapped, his eyes growing wide.
“Yes, sir.”
“We don’t know nobody named Jay.”
“But sir, the detective here’s a friend of Lizzie’s.”
“Miller, go inside and tape off the scene.”
The deputy gave Patricia an unhappy glance before he scurried off like a scared rabbit.