It Should Be a Crime (25 page)

Morgan shook off the sensory memory and focused on Aimee. Aimee Howard was smart, beautiful, and interested. Those factors, combined with the fact she didn’t make her feel feverish, probably meant Aimee was the perfect choice for a distraction. Morgan was rocking around several ideas for letting Aimee know she might be up for more than a little house-hunting, when her office door swung open.

*

Parker didn’t have a clue what she would say to Morgan, but she wanted to share her theory with the person she was sure would appreciate it most. Parker toyed with the idea of calling Dex or Jake first, but she ultimately decided in favor of impressing the teacher.
Who am I kidding,
she thought,
I want an excuse to see her. Alone.

Parker pushed open the door to Morgan’s office. “Morgan, you are not going to believe—”

The blonde’s bright smile smashed Parker’s thoughts into little bits and Parker was too thrown to pick up the pieces. All she could digest was that a curvaceous beauty was comfortably sprawled along the edge of Morgan’s desk and leaning too close to the object of Parker’s desire. It was the blonde from the Lakeside. The one Morgan had been sharing wine and laughs with weeks ago. Parker’s mind slowly opened to the flood of facts pouring in. The beautiful woman who was breaking bread with Morgan was here now, in her office, looking for all the world like she owned the place. Giggles, whispers. Could this have been Morgan’s ex? Maybe. There was no doubt there was something going on between them.
Must. Leave.

“Sorry, I should’ve knocked.” Parker left faster than the apology fell from her lips, and the last words trailed behind her as she stalked down the hallway.

*

“Sensitive student?” Aimee asked after Parker’s abrupt departure.

“We’re working on a special project and my students are used to ready access.” Morgan knew her response sounded lame the moment it left her lips. She wanted to run after Parker but knew she couldn’t, at least not without looking foolish. As she wondered what was behind Parker’s strange reaction, she missed Aimee’s next words. It wasn’t until Aimee’s parting words, “I’m looking forward to Friday night,” that she realized she had made a date with Aimee.

*

Parker paced the tiny entryway to Skye’s duplex while she debated if coming to this place was a smart decision. She acknowledged smart choices weren’t her forte lately, and her silent admission was loud and clear. She couldn’t help but think of Morgan. Every day, she listened to her sharp and sure voice, witnessed her poise, and delighted in the fire dancing in her eyes. Morgan Bradley was everything she could ever want and nothing she could ever have. Seeing her every day was painful. Seeing her today in the presence of a woman who so obviously desired her was unbearable. Every time she saw Morgan she was hungry for more. She had had countless encounters with women and rarely repeated the exercise. Though Dallas was a big city, she hadn’t been able to completely avoid seeing some of these one-night stands again, but none had ever left her empty, wanting. Not like this.

Poor judgment be damned, she thought, and raised her hand to ring the bell. Skye Keaton had been more than a one-night stand and look how their relationship had ended. Skye, her partner, her lover, had killed Parker’s ability to feel. Until now.

“Casey, I knew you’d come around. I don’t have any pizza to offer, but you’re welcome to come in.” Skye was dressed in a wrinkled T-shirt and cut-offs, her hair mussed, her eyes sleepy. She looked great.

“Hey, Skye, I’m not hungry, but I want to talk to you about something important.” Parker looked around. Not a change in sight. Like its resident, the apartment was exactly the same as she remembered. Parker made her way to the living room and settled on the couch. Skye watched her as if assessing the “something important” Parker was there to discuss. Her eyes strayed to the folder Parker had placed on the coffee table.

“What’s in the folder?”

Parker decided she wasn’t ready to get into the reason for her visit. Her past consisted of a host of memories, many of them shared with Skye. Looking into her eyes, Parker felt long-dead feelings stir in anguish. She needed to numb those feelings before she could talk business.

“Do you have any beer?”

Skye didn’t blink at the non sequitur. She left the room, returning moments later with two cold bottles. She pushed aside a random array of junk mail, indicating an old magazine to serve as a coaster. Parker downed half her beer and leaned back.

“Casey, I’m trying not to take personally your need to preface whatever you have to talk to me about with alcohol. But if you wait much longer to spit it out, I’m going to get the wrong idea.”

Parker tilted the bottle and fortified herself with another healthy draft. She could sense that whatever her original reason for being here, she was about to start down a path she hadn’t expected and the alcohol was a necessary provision. “Skye, did you ever love me?”

Skye’s sharp intake of breath was the only sound in the room. Parker watched her face but couldn’t read anything from Skye’s expression. Gone was the cocky jeer of the Teflon-coated detective. Parker saw fear replace shock and then settle into pain. Skye’s pain cried out and Parker answered with her own. “Then why?”

The one-word question packed a punch and Skye looked worn from the blow. “You know why. You made me choose. I only picked what I thought you would’ve picked. No one was more surprised than me when you decided to be all honorable and throw yourself on your sword. I thought we had an understanding. We meant something to each other, but the job meant more. I didn’t have any idea it wasn’t the same for you. Not until you decided to walk the plank, all to protect the reputation of a crazy pervert.”

“Don’t you think you’re simplifying things a bit? You lied. You should’ve known me well enough to know I would never lie for anything, not even the job, and I certainly would never ask you to lie for me.”

“We’re different. I loved you in my way.” Skye contemplated her beer bottle for a very long time and then met Parker’s eyes. “I still love you, you know.”

Parker shook her head. The revelation fizzled and her reply referenced a past long gone. “I loved you too, Skye, but it was different. It is different.”

“We don’t have to ‘love’ each other to have a good time. I seem to remember some great times.” The edge softened into want and Skye drew closer, clearly angling for a kiss. Parker stiffened at first, then questioned her own hesitancy.
What the hell? I’m here and she wants me. Maybe this is all there is. Longing and gratification. Love is too fancy a concept when all you need is to satisfy a craving.
Her lips touched Skye’s and her mind stopped whirring. She melted against her waiting mouth and gave in to the embrace. Skye’s fingers sliding under her soft cotton shirt left a trail of want in their path to her breasts. Breaths, deep and quick, registered the passion. Passion she did not want to feel and did not seek. The beer was not working. She was anything but numb. Ignoring the sour taste of love’s memory, she met Skye’s kiss with equal fervor, seeking new flavor to replace the taint of the past.

Locked in passion, they exchanged hungry grasps with lips and hands. Parker’s head was spinning as she whipped through feelings she didn’t recognize—torrid, hungry feelings. Skye was toxic and as she drank her in, her mind spun in heady clouds that hid rational judgment. No one else ever made her feel this way. Wait—a thought fought its way forward. The way she felt with Morgan was like this. No, she insisted, it was different. Her fuzzy head acknowledged she was right. It was different. What she felt with Morgan was as consuming, but it was not toxic. If she slept with Skye, she would feel empty afterward. Yet after passion with Morgan, she was full. It was the desire to maintain the satisfaction that kept her wanting more.

Parker placed a hand on Skye’s chest and eased her back. “Skye, look at me.” Skye eased open hazy lids and cast a dreamy look at her. “This isn’t why I came here tonight.”

“Plans change, Casey.”

“Not for me, they don’t.” Parker pulled back farther. “I’m sorry I let things get out of hand.”

Skye adjusted herself into a more powerful seated position and shrugged. “Things are nowhere near out of hand. I was having a good time. I guess you don’t know how anymore.” She was petulant. This Skye was as familiar to Parker as the cocky cop who showed no fear in the streets or the courtroom. Parker knew she better act fast before Skye’s mood turned stormy, which was likely when she hadn’t gotten her way. She reached for the folder on the coffee table. “Here, I want you to look at something.”

As Skye flipped through the pages, she shook her head. “Casey, we can’t talk about this.”

“Why not? The evidence is what the evidence is. Are you scared I’m going to read your mind about the prosecution’s theory? Seriously, Skye, like I don’t already know what Gibson thinks. Luis Chavez was an ungrateful employee of the Burke family who lusted after their prize daughter until he couldn’t stand it anymore. One fateful evening he decided to take what wasn’t offered and when he was spurned, he delivered a fateful blow. Am I close?”

“Okay, so you’ve got it all figured out. What do you want from me?”

Parker shoved a couple of the crime scene photos under Skye’s nose. “Take a good look at these and tell me you don’t see something wrong.”

Skye barely glanced at the photos before replying. “You’re not kidding. Camille Burke’s deader than a doornail.”

“You always were the sensitive type.”

“Don’t get all self-righteous on me, Casey. You sure picked the wrong side of the law to show you care about innocent victims.”

Parker shook the photos. “Skye, don’t get off track here. Take a close look and tell me what you see.”

Skye focused on the photos. Camille Burke was in the grip of death, a pool of blood fanned out from her head. The medical examiner estimated the time of death to have occurred within a couple of hours of the police’s arrival, not surprising since Teddy Burke made the 911 call from the house moments after he heard shots fired. Camille Burke had been shot in the face at close range. The result was a pulped-up wreckage of brains and blood. No eyes, no nose, no mouth. Camille wouldn’t need the senses those parts provided anymore. The shooter made sure. No matter how many times Parker looked at photos of the mangled, lifeless victims of murder, she would never stop feeling pain. She took small pleasure from the grimace that crossed Skye’s face. It was nice to know she hadn’t become completely desensitized.

“Give me a clue, Parker. What am I supposed to be looking for beyond the obvious?”

“Look at her arms, legs, her hands.” Parker gestured at the lifeless form of Camille Burke. Her limbs were contorted, her hands frozen into fists, clutching only air. “The ME noted rigor at the scene. When was the last time you saw a two-hour-old corpse in full rigor?”

“Maybe he made a typo.”

“Give me a break, Skye. I know you well enough to know you’ve reviewed the autopsy report already and you probably observed the exam. If you thought there was a mistake, you would have made sure it was corrected. The photos leave no doubt. She was in rigor probably before you even got to the scene.”

“So what?”

“So, maybe she didn’t die from the gunshot wound.”

Skye snorted. “You’ve lost your mind.” She shoved one of the photos at Parker. “Look at her face!”

“Skye, look at the rest of her! She’s balled up like someone shocked her with a cattle prod. Have you ever seen a gunshot victim twisted up that way?”

Skye didn’t reply, but she appeared unable to look away from the gruesome corpse in the photo. Parker read her silence as a tacit invitation to continue. “I have an idea about what would have caused what you’re seeing there.”

“You do, huh?”

“Poison. Strychnine. It has that effect on the body, causes severe convulsions, quick onset of rigor. Dr. Hudson should have caught the signs and ordered a tox screen. Hell, he should have ordered a tox screen no matter what.”

“Gimme a break. Why waste the taxpayer’s money? Her fucking head was blown off. Even if you’re right, it doesn’t matter.”

Parker looked hard at her. Though it had been several years since they worked side by side, she could tell the difference between confident conclusions and plain old bluster. This was bluster and Parker was determined to get beneath it. “Humor me, Skye. You don’t want the defense to try to drum up reasonable doubt. Order a tox screen, then decide for yourself if the results make a difference in how you see the case.” When Skye didn’t immediately respond, Parker pushed a hair more. “If you don’t want to piss off Hudson, get Dr. Williams to do it. I think she’s actually interested in finding out what happened. Frankly, I thought you’d be concerned about anything that casts a shade of reasonable doubt all over your case.”

It took less than a second for Parker to realize she had said too much. Skye went ballistic. “Dr. Williams, huh? What the hell does she know about this case?” Skye pressed on. “Did you talk to her behind my back?”

Years apart hadn’t changed a thing. Skye knew how to press her buttons. “Behind your back? Since when are all county employees subject to your bidding? I have every right to talk to whoever I want. In fact, I have a duty to do whatever it takes to zealously represent my client.”

“Your client? Your client is a murderer. He deserves nothing less than to rot in prison for the rest of his hopefully very long life. Don’t act all self-righteous about your duty. I have a duty too—to protect the citizens of Dallas County, and before you dis it, you might want to remember it wasn’t so long ago you took an oath to do the same.”