Murder in the City: Blue Lights (14 page)

Julie studied him as if he were an encyclopedia. “I cannot wait until I can be a cop.”

And suddenly, Lainey saw it was a done deal. Julie staying at his parents’ house and Julie being a cop.

* * *

A small, round woman opened the door. “Bricie,” she effused, immediately wrapping her arms around the neck that Brice lowered to her level.

“Mama,” he said in the most gentle tone she’d heard from him yet. This was a sweeter voice even than he used for victims and witnesses.

Soft. That was the general first impression his mother gave off. Soft, both physically and emotionally. And sweet.

She pulled back to look Brice in the face and gave him the sweetest smile Lainey had ever seen.

Then, immediately she switched her attention to Lainey and Julie.

“Hellooo,” she intoned. “I am so happy to meet you both. Come in, come in.” She laughed and smiled all at the same time.

What a great mom. And for just an instant, Lainey envied Brice for still having a mom.

Julie smiled up at the woman, with a look that said she felt comfortable with her.

“This is my husband, Bob.” Brice’s mom turned to gesture at a giant bear of a man.

Lainey could see what Mark Brice would look like in another thirty-five years.

It wasn’t bad. He was barrel-chested, seemingly without an ounce of fat. His chest had filled out with what looked to be solid muscle.

“So, you’re Julie.” Mark’s mom gazed down at the preteen with a fond expression.

“I am so happy to have a little girl in my house. Mine are all grown up now. But, I do have granddaughters who visit.”

She placed her hand on Julie’s shoulder. “We’re going to have fun. And if you get bored with me, we’ll call my granddaughter over for you to hang out with.”

Julie beamed up at her. It had been way too long since Julie had had a mom of her own. This pretend mom would be good for her, even if it were only for a short time.

“Here’s where you’re going to be staying, Julie.” His mom waved them into the most girlie room imaginable, with pink everywhere.

“This is where my granddaughters stay when they come to visit. My Mason’s little girl, Abby. And Bricie’s little girl Maddie stays here sometimes when she’s in town.”

Brice had a daughter!

Chapter Sixteen

Lainey glanced at Brice who stood out in the hallway. But he looked back toward the living room, listening to something his dad was saying.

Julie’s head swiveled around to stare at Brice. “You have a little girl?”

He turned to meet her gaze. “She’s not so little anymore. She’s about your age.”

“Really?” He nodded and she studied him for a minute before saying, “Where does she live?”

He hesitated, glancing at his own mother. She smiled.

Lainey knew she should stop Julie’s questions. But she waited along with Julie for the answer.

“She lives in Washington, DC with her mom and her step-dad,” he said as if the awkward pause hadn’t happened.

“A divorce.” Julie nodded knowingly. “My friend Kendall’s parents got divorced.” When had Julie become so worldly, or was it just an act? “How long ago did you get divorced?”

“Let’s not interrogate Detective Brice,” Lainey said.

“About two years ago,” Brice said as if Lainey hadn’t spoken.

Brice’s mom walked over to him and patted his arm. “But we are so happy to see her when she comes to visit. Makes it real special since we don’t see her all the time like we used to. So, you can sleep here and Lainey can sleep in here in the other bed if she wants.” She glanced around. “It’s very girlie. Don’t know what I’ll do when I get a grandson.”

She laughed. “Cross that bridge when I come to it.”

“Does your husband still keep his guns?” Julie moved on to other subjects. She followed Brice’s mom out to the living room, leaving Brice and Lainey alone together in the little bedroom.

“Sorry,” she said.

He shrugged. “It’s okay. Public information, available to anyone down at the records department. Or to anyone who has a computer these days.”

“Mm,” she murmured. “That would have been more polite than asking you point blank.”

He stepped half a step closer. “It’s alright. It’s not a secret.”

Julie’s little voice yammered on in the other room, asking Brice’s dad about his history as a cop.

“Believe it or not, that quality will stand her in good stead when she becomes a cop.” Brice tilted his head toward the living room. “Asking people whatever you want to know without hesitation.”

She laughed quietly. “Because most people don’t.”

She glanced up, to see his face close, his gaze intent on her face. For just a second, she wished she could ask him whatever she wanted to.

An ex wife living in another city with his kid. That had to hurt. Just when she’d been envying him for having the perfect family.

She didn’t know what she would do if she lost daily contact with Julie right now. College was coming. But she could see that out there on the horizon.

What must that feel like to lose your marriage and your kid?

“Do you have a Glock?” Julie’s little voice rang clearly from the other room.

Brice’s dad laughed heartily. Big, gruff, reassuring. Now, she saw where Brice got his personality.

Like his dad, he was a natural born cop. It was in his genes.

Julie continued firing questions right and left about his days on the force. Brice’s dad just laughed and answered them all.

Julie was gonna love it here.

* * *

On the way back to Lainey’s house, Brice dove right into the issues.

“You can’t stay at your place.”

She cut her eyes at him.

“This guy knows where you live. You’re in danger as well as Julie.”

“I should stay at your parent’s house?”

He shook his head. “I think we should stay away from over there as much as possible until we get this thing sorted out so that he has less chance of finding where Julie is staying.” He pointed a finger into the air. “Don’t tell anyone, I mean anyone, where Julie is staying. Same goes for me, I’m not telling anyone, and told my parents and my brother the same.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Who do you think this guy is, an arch villain?” she said although she’d begun to think of him as such.

He nodded his head. “Pretty close. He seems to have his sources for information.”

They pulled into her driveway and got out. Everything looked the same, flowers blooming in the little plot she and Julie tended so carefully, just like their mother before them. The white house with the yellow shutters was as homey as always.

But everything had changed. It was no longer the safe haven, their place to go when things got hard out in the world.

A criminal knew where they lived, had been there to pick up Julie and hold her captive.

A large fist of anger knotted in Lainey’s chest, clutching at her heart. The fierce fury gripped her and shook her until all she could think about was that she wanted to strike back at this beast who’d targeted her family.

“So, you gonna pack a bag?” Brice said, his voice low and husky, as if he were asking her to spend the night at his place after a date.

Standing here in her living room, it felt intimate, just the two of them, with no little girl in the next room.

He stood only feet away, that body that had made it so hard to sleep the night before.

“Do you want a shower?” She glanced back at him, registering the fact that his eyes were raking her body.

“I have an extra razor,” she said, finding it hard to catch her breath.

He nodded. “You want to go first?”

She’d gotten straight up out of bed and pulled her hair into a ponytail when she’d been called to the murder scene, hadn’t showered this morning or last night.

“You can.”

Brice felt her there so close and the idea of getting naked in her home sent thoughts through his head that were inconvenient. He needed to work this case, not imagine the two of them in that shower together, him pushing her up against the wall and…

Heat ran through him, yelling impulses to put his hands on her.

But he had to work the case.

“What sort of a person do you think we’re dealing with here?” He looked at her, standing so innocently in her own living room, unaware of the liberties his mind was taking with her.

She gazed at him with those large blue eyes, trusting. Oblivious to what he was thinking.

Damn, he had it bad for her. Lust. The most intrusive impulse that man had ever known.

Homicidal impulses? Jealousy? All of those were nothing compared to lust.

Lust was the one feeling that could get into a man’s head, making it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything else.

But he had to.

“It’s almost like he’s someone in the loop,” she said.

That caught his attention. “You’re right. Like he’s one of us. And his behavior is almost normal.”

“Normal?” She laughed. “Normal people don’t kidnap little girls and terrorize their families.”

“Yeah, but he returns them.”

She nodded. “The usual kidnapper does horrible things to the little girls they kidnap, and often their families never even see them again.”

“It’s like he’s acting just within the realm of justifiable, within the realm of human understanding.”

She rolled her eyes. “I guess you could say that.”

He stepped closer, gesturing with his hands. “No, let’s look at it.”

“Coffee?” She turned away and walked toward the kitchen so he followed her.

She reached into the cabinet for a couple of clean mugs and as she did so, her pants hugged her butt.

An impulse to run his hands over that tight little butt reared its ugly head.

Damn.

“You know who knows a lot about everything, seems to always be in the loop? John Canton.” She poured a cup of coffee.

“The reporter.” He shrugged. “But that seems to be the nature of the beast with news people. They always seem to have this preternatural ability to absorb information from the air.” He accepted the coffee she extended to him. “It always blows me away how they show up at scenes almost as soon as we do.”

She poured herself a cup and turned to him. “Yeah, but he was at the SWAT standoff at the house yesterday long before any other reporters.”

Something about this guy was eating at her.

“What is it, Lainey?”

She shrugged, looking vacantly at the cabinets. “I don’t know. Just the last couple of weeks something about him has been bugging me.”

He waited.

“He says the most offensively callous things about some shooting victims, like he’s glad they got it. Like they deserve it.” Her mouth twisted with distaste.

But a lot of people felt that way, even if they wouldn’t say it out loud.

Drug dealers getting blown away was no cause for tears. Robbers getting shot by the store owner they tried to rob was cause for open celebration by many people.

“He has the gun that shot several of our victims lately.” Her eyes rounded in emphasis. “He has the murder weapon in his possession.”

“Or so he would have us believe.”

“He showed it on TV,” she countered.

He took a sip of coffee, trying to ignore her standing so close, within touching distance. “I’ve gotten so absorbed with these kidnappings that when he said that it went right under my radar.”

She nodded. “Ordinarily, you and I would have been over there immediately, interrogating him, taking the gun into possession.”

“That’s for damn sure. And the police chief and the mayor would have been breathing down our backs.”

She looked at him in amazement. “But,” she held out an open hand, “nothing.”

“It went right under the radar with everyone, because everyone was so obsessed with the kidnappings of the banker’s and the mayor’s kids.”

“But he got it out there.” She sat her cup down and began to pace, pivoting back to look at him. “He got the information out there, so if it ever came up in court, he could say in his defense, ‘I went on TV with the information and the cops did nothing’.”

Her eyes rounded. “You don’t think possibly that he’s been killing people.”

He laughed roughly, the sound almost hurting as it came out, as if something true had been ripped from his gut. “Making his own news? Well, there was that guy down in Central America who arranged hits so his station could be the first with the exclusive.”

“Oh my Lord.” The words gushed out of her. “You don’t think? He was so dismissive of Skin being killed, knew that there were two guys in that drug house, knew about the demands for the furloughs to end before we hardly knew it, and he was first at the SWAT situation.”

He laughed with disbelief. But could it be true? “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. This is a theory. One theory out of about a hundred we may have to come up with to solve this thing.”