Brad gave a short bark of laughter that held no humor. “He got to me seven years ago when he killed my sister. I think it’s a little late to not let him get under my skin.”
David dragged a hand through his hair, cursed and shook his head. “Well, you’re only going to make matters worse by challenging the guy like that. Ramsey’s got nothing to lose.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Brad targeted his friend with a glare. “Every night I go to sleep knowing Hannah is dead and that bastard is still sitting here being fed and housed at the state’s expense. Every morning I wake up knowing I’ll never see my sister again while Ramsey is doing push-ups in his cell. And each time I walk through those front doors, I have to fight an urge to put a bullet through his brain. Do you know what stops me?”
He didn’t pause to give the deputy warden time to respond. “I know Ramsey has nothing to lose. Dying at my hand would only take away what is left of my life. So don’t lecture me on the guy, David. Whether I want to be or not, I’m an expert on John Ramsey.”
Frustration clawed at her insides. Three tries to reach Brad without success. If he did keep his cell phone on him, he wasn’t quick about answering it. She looked up from the parking spot she’d nabbed next to a meter, a rarity at this time of the day in downtown Charleston.
Salli had been right. Few people milled around in the park, though the concrete walk overlooking the Atlantic Ocean teemed with activity. She surveyed the area and spotted a round man wearing a dark suit seated on a black, cast-iron bench. That had to be him.
“Oh come on, Kate. You’ve been meeting with sources for years without Brad Jericho’s input.”
The reminder helped and, drawing in a deep breath, she stepped out into the unknown. She’d barely had time to cross the green grass before Angelo Salli stood and stuck out a palm covered in a fine sheen of moisture. “Ms. Elliott, thank you for meeting me.”
Kate took it reluctantly, then surreptitiously wiped her hand down the side of her black slacks. “What can I do for you?” With an expert flick of her finger, she switched the mini-recorder inside her purse on without Salli’s awareness.
The breeze, a little cooler coming in off the Atlantic, lifted her hair and swished it across her face, making her wish she’d tied it back for the day. As she pulled the strands away, she watched the attorney’s shaking hands.
“I think you should back off any story involving my client, and I can’t tell you any more than that. I’m treading a thin line here. The state bar frowns heavily on breaching a client’s confidentiality.” The wind ruffled the three strands of hair on the top of his head.
“You haven’t really told me anything yet, just given me advice I didn’t ask for and that I doubt I’m going to take. And the warning is something you could have given me over the phone, saving us both a trip. Although I’m not up on the all the logistics when it comes to a lawyer’s ethical requirements, I’m sure you could be a bit more specific without breaching confidentiality.”
His cheeks puffed out with a burst of air. “You got your interview with him. Let that be enough. Just do yourself a favor and take my advice.” He jammed his hands into the pockets of his slacks and looked around as though afraid of being overheard.
“Not unless you give me a good reason. Oh wait. Would it have anything to do with the flowers delivered to my house this morning or the note I received while I was at the prison?”
The blood drained from Salli’s face. “Flowers? Note? My client couldn’t possibly have had anything to do with that.”
“No? Then why do you look like someone’s got a gun pointed at your face?”
He draped his arms across the muzzle of the cannon and directed his gaze toward the water where several boats bobbed in unison. “Do you ever wish you could revisit your life? I mean, go back a few years and rethink what you chose to do with it?” Without giving her time to respond, he plowed on. “God knows I do. Every day. Every lousy time I have to go behind those prison walls and meet with my clients.”
Though she felt a pang of sympathy for the man’s unhappiness, Kate didn’t waste time offering any condolences. Salli had wanted to meet her, and she didn’t for one second believe it was only to tell her not to see his client.
“Mr. Salli, I’m aware that whatever was said between you and your client is confidential. However, if you have reason to believe a crime is going to be committed, you have a duty to report it. Is that why you wanted to see me? Has there been some type of threat against me?”
The lawyer shook off the wave of melancholy and took a step back. “I’ve said all I can say. Too much, in fact. Just do yourself a favor and let this one go. You won’t win any Pulitzers, and John Ramsey’s story isn’t one you really want to tell.”
Kate considered the veiled warning before pushing a little more. “He’s got people on the outside, doesn’t he? People he can control?”
Salli went a little bit paler. “Digging deeper is only going to bury you, Miss Elliott. I can’t say whether or not I believe in my client’s guilt, but I can tell you whatever he didn’t do on the outside of that cell, he’s probably done on the inside of it. If he is a killer, I’ve yet to see one with a conscience. At any rate, I’ve done all I can do. Either take my advice or don’t. You can’t say I didn’t warn you.” He gave her one last hard look and walked away on expensive loafers that squeaked.
Kate didn’t immediately return to her car. Instead she wandered over to a nearby hot dog vendor, helped herself to a foot-long and settled down on a bench while replaying the tape. Salli didn’t just sound scared, he sounded resigned, as though he had direct knowledge something was going to happen.
Maybe he did, but she wasn’t backing down. If Ramsey wanted to come after her from inside his cell, she was going to find out why. Of all the reporters he could have targeted, there had to be a reason he’d chosen her. It might not be a reason she wanted to know, but now that Ramsey had already dropped the bait, there wasn’t any way she could walk away from it.
Standing, she curled the hot dog wrapped in one hand and lobbed it into a wrought-iron garbage container. Feeling a little more in control, she breathed in the smell of fresh ocean air on her way back to her car.
She had one hand on the handle when her nerves went into high alert. Someone was watching her. Spinning around for a better look, she pressed one hand over her heart to calm the rapid beats.
No one was behind her, and from what she could see, no one was watching her. Was she imagining things now?
Shaking off the sense of unease clinging to her, she slid behind the wheel of her car and started the engine. A check in the rearview mirror made her take a second look. Had someone been standing there? She thought she’d seen a flash of something, like clothing maybe. But if someone had been behind her car, there was no one there now.
No one could move that quickly, so it had to be her imagination. Seeing things that weren’t there was a classic sign of paranoia. She summoned up a laugh at herself and rolled her shoulders backward to ease the tension.
Work. She needed to go to work and forget about John Ramsey and his mind games. As far as she knew, he could only be toying with her, using her to have what would be his last bit of fun before his execution.
The thought brought a measure of relief. After Saturday, John Ramsey wouldn’t be able to toy with anyone.
Brad left the prison late, stepping outside just as the clouds opened up. Rain beat against him as he ran to his truck. Once inside, he shook off as much dampness as he could and stuck the key in the ignition. Shivering a little from the wetness, he turned his cell phone on. The battery had dipped into the yellow zone, making him think twice about checking for messages. Damn. Where was the charger?
He shifted the phone to his shoulder to begin his search. The dying battery beeped in his ear. “Yeah, yeah. I hear you.” The rocking tunes of a Nickelback song drowned out the alert, and he quieted the ringtone by answering the call.
“Brad Jericho.”
“Brad, hi, it’s Kate.”
There it went again, that tingling sensation in the pit of his stomach at the sound of her voice. It reminded him how long it had been since his last relationship, how he’d let the need for justice control his life. Now wasn’t any closer to being the time to get involved.
“Hi.” He managed to locate the charger and quickly connected the USB to the phone before propping his elbow on the edge of the window to hold the cell against his ear. “Are you home?”
“I just walked in my door.” She sounded so close, like he could reach out and touch her.
Shoving that thought aside, he checked his watch. “Do you always work this late?”
Her light laugh ripped a hole in his focus. “Eight-thirty isn’t that late, and unless I miss my guess, you’re in your car. So I gather I’m not the only one who worked past the normal five o’clock.”
“Guilty.” If he tightened his grip around the cell any more, he’d snap it in half.
“I wanted to thank you for this morning. I wasn’t sure that I had.”
The breathless tone knotted his muscles. He could only imagine what she’d sound like in a more intimate setting. “You did, and the offer still stands.” He urged his libido into neutral, prayed it would stay there until he could finish the conversation.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
Brad doubted her sincerity. He’d heard enough victims to recognize worry, and as much as Kate was trying to hide it, fear still clung to her. She didn’t want to be alone, though she’d probably never admit it.
“I did try to call you earlier, though.” She interrupted his thoughts, the words holding no reproof, just light curiosity.
“My battery was dying. I turned my phone off to preserve the last bar until I could get back out to my truck. Just turned it on a few minutes ago, but I haven’t had time to check voice mail yet. What was going on?”
“Oh it was nothing. I was just on my way to a meeting, but it doesn’t matter now.”
He heard rustling like she was changing clothes or getting comfortable. Both thoughts had him sweating. He didn’t need any mental clues to help him picture her slipping into a soft cotton T-shirt that barely skimmed the tops of her thighs.
“Have you had dinner?” He slipped the question in quietly, offering more than just a meal. She needed company, someone to help her make it through the next few hours. And it so happened that his night was free.
“No, I haven’t.” She responded without hesitation and just a slight amount of relief.
While his inner voice told him this was a bad idea, that he should listen to David and not get personal, he forged ahead. “You like Chinese?”
“Love it.”
The smile in her voice soothed his conscience. She needed company. How wrong could it be to spend some time with her so she wouldn’t be alone? “How about I pick up some and bring it over?”
“Should I even ask how you know where I live?”
Brad grimaced. Clearly he hadn’t thought that one through. “Yeah, I guess I should tell you that. I caught a peek at O’Hara’s report. Well, it was more like a long look that included pen and a piece of paper.”
Kate laughed. “At least you’re honest about it.”
He liked he couldn’t hear the nervousness in her voice now. “Have to be. I was a detective for too long to be anything but.” He shifted the truck into reverse and backed up. “I’ll see you in twenty.”
“I didn’t realize I lived that close to the prison.”
“Okay, so make it thirty.” He wasn’t about to tell her he’d intended to push the speed limit a bit.
“Still sounds like you’re gunning for a ticket, Warden.”
“I’ll take my chances.” Brad didn’t question the stupid grin on his face once the call ended.
Kate checked her reflection in the mirror again. How many times had it been now? She adjusted her hair, slid a finger under her eye to smooth away a lingering trace of mascara and considered touching up her lipstick before dismissing the idea.
Don’t give him the impression you think this is a date, Kate.
No, better to act casual, look the part. That didn’t stop her from fluffing her hair again.
She settled on the sofa, pulling her laptop to the edge of the coffee table. The seventeen-inch widescreen splashed light across her denim-covered legs as she tapped out the letters for her password and pulled up the latest story she was writing.
For now, she’d put John Ramsey’s interview on hold. Aaron had insisted she wait until this, whatever this was, played out. He didn’t want Kate to be one of the main actors in Ramsey’s macabre tale. In truth, it hadn’t been a hardship to put it aside. Two notes from the serial killer had been enough to make her want to keep her distance even though she’d never been easily frightened.
Her childhood had been spent as a daredevil, following in the footsteps of her older brother. Whatever he did, she had to do better, much to her mother’s consternation. So if Jarod climbed a tree, she had to climb a taller one. If he swung out over the river with only a thin piece of rope between himself and a chilly bath, Kate just dove right in, braving the icy bite of the winter waters.
Her refusal to allow fear to be a part of her life had propelled her to an award-winning career before she’d turned twenty-five. She’d met kings and dictators in war-torn lands, conducted interviews with mortar fire rattling the windows of the hotel room and been immersed in some of the world’s worst disasters. And had walked away unscathed.
But somehow John Ramsey had managed to shake her foundation, possibly even crack it. She’d looked over her shoulder more than once since she’d left the prison, had hesitated before answering every call, and that evening she’d passed on the power walk she normally took after work with her next-door neighbor. She’d used a looming deadline as an excuse.
In truth, she’d just wanted to shut herself inside and lock the doors, but then facing a night alone had left her feeling more than a little jittery, providing a grim reminder of her sad excuse for a social life. If she had a boyfriend… The thought trailed off. No use thinking about what couldn’t be fixed now.
It wasn’t that she didn’t ever have the opportunity to date but her job came first. Every woman in her family had married and had children before they were eighteen but Kate had always wanted more out of life. A family might be nice one day, but she doubted she’d ever find anyone who was willing to be second in her life.
A knock at the front door brought a smile to her face that she quickly dashed. Brad was only being friendly. He must have known how uneasy she was about being alone. Having been a detective, he would have picked up on her nerves even on the phone. That was the only reason for the dinner invitation.
Still, she couldn’t be blamed if her steps were a little light as she walked to the front door of her home. She edged the lace panel to one side to peer out into the darkness. The sight of Brad’s broad shoulders made hers relax and she opened the door.
“Hi.” She stepped back to let him inside.
“Hi.” He walked past her, carrying a brown paper bag with two handles. “I didn’t take your order, so I just got a little of everything.”
The scent of fried rice and egg rolls wafted up and her mouth watered. The hot dog she’d eaten for lunch seemed so far away now. “When it comes to Chinese, I like a little of everything. I’ll get some plates.” She led the way into the kitchen with the rectangular island, saw Brad sweep a glance around the room.
“Nice place.” He set the bag on top of the granite countertop next to the stove.
“Thanks. You should have seen it when I bought it.” Surprised at how relaxed she felt, she turned and handed him two china plates. “It was a fixer-upper.”
Brad’s eyes crinkled when he smiled. “So you’re a handywoman too?”
“Not hardly, but I can write checks to pay for contractors better than anyone you’ve ever met.” She liked the way his dark hair looked both messy and casually stylish. So far, she hadn’t seen too much she didn’t like.
He laughed. “Now, that I can believe.”
Kate didn’t question why his laugh or gentle teasing made her insides gooey. It probably had a lot to do with her dismal dating life. Her career didn’t leave much time for social interaction that didn’t require a microphone and a notebook. Not that she’d really been on the lookout for Mr. Right. She wasn’t even sure he existed.
“Beer?” She offered him a longneck from the refrigerator.
He leaned over the island to accept it and twisted off the top. “You couldn’t have picked a better place to live.”
She bumped the door to the refrigerator closed with her hip. “Like Summerville that much?”
“My folks moved here after my brother and I left the nest. They loved it, and so did we whenever we could manage to tear ourselves away from our schedules long enough to visit.” A wistful look passed over his face before he blinked and brought himself back to the present.
The way he spoke in past tense brought an automatic response. “I’m sorry.”
He glanced at her. “What? Oh, no, I’m sorry. They’re not deceased.”
“Oh.” Kate laughed. “Just the way you were talking…”
“Yeah, I know. They travel a lot now that Dad’s retired. I don’t see them as often as I like but regardless of how much time passes, I can still hear my mom’s voice telling me to wipe my feet whenever I walk into my own house.” With a chuckle, he lobbed the bottle cap into the trash can before picking up both filled plates.
They settled at the glass-topped café table in the corner of the kitchen. “What about your parents?”
Kate didn’t mind the question. Her parents had always played a big part in her life, still did. No matter how much they disapproved of her career, they loved her unconditionally. That she never doubted. “They live in Goose Creek in the same house I grew up in. Dad wouldn’t move if you threatened him with a shotgun.”
The conversation flowed easily, segueing into their siblings and the rest of their family members. Though it hadn’t seemed so at first, Kate found she had a lot in common with Brad.
They each had only one brother as a sibling, were addicted to their careers, had never married and didn’t have “vacation” in their vocabulary. And they shared a love of baseball, action movies and old rock groups.
Losing herself in Brad’s eyes, Kate propped her elbows on the table and listened to his tale of a lost attempt at getting away from it all—a doomed-from-the-start trip to the Yucatan that had resulted in his working with local law enforcement to apprehend a fugitive drug dealer.
“So what you’re saying is you never leave your work behind.” She drained the last of her beer and grinned at him.
“Yeah, well, when’s the last trip you took without a recorder?”
She laughed in response. “I’ll have to plead the Fifth on that one.”
“That’s what I thought.” Their gazes connected and they both grinned.
“So what about a wife?” The question escaped her lips before she could stop it.
Brad’s eyebrows lifted. “Do I have one, or have I ever had one?”
“I’d like to think you don’t have a spouse waiting at home for you while you have dinner with another woman.” He didn’t strike her as the type of man to be so cavalier about his marriage.
“You’d be right. No wife. Never had one. You? Husband, I mean.”
Kate shook her head. “With my work, relationships are too complicated.”
“Only if you make them that way.” He peeled the label off the beer. “I used to tell myself the same thing, but honestly, I just wasn’t ready to give part of myself to someone else.”
There went that past tense again. She swallowed a lump in her throat, decided not to venture in through the door he opened. Some things were best left alone. “Want another beer?” The grandfather clock in the living room began to chime and she stopped, tilting her head to one side. “It can’t be midnight already.”