CHAPTER THIRTY
K
YLIE KEPT EXPECTING
to wake up from a dream. So far her evening with Jack had been too good, too perfect to be true. He’d even brought one of her fantasies to life. Granted, not in a jail cell, but having her wrists bound and being at Jack’s mercy while he did racy things to her body was the part she cared about most. The part that shocked and thrilled. Bonus, he hadn’t been quick about it. He’d taken his time, driven her insane, the anticipation making the orgasms so intense, at one point she was certain she’d died and gone to heaven.
Oh, yeah. Jack knew how to push her buttons and then some.
Even showering together had been fun and sensual. Bobby had lived with her for almost a year, that is whenever he wasn’t out of town on assignment, and she’d never been tempted to share the bathroom with him in any way. With Jack, it felt natural.
Since he’d informed her he’d be spending the night (Oh, yeah. She was still floating from
that
news), and since it was only 8:00 p.m., they’d opted for comfy clothes, dinner in and a movie from Kylie’s DVD collection.
At his request, she’d dressed in her striped boxer shorts (she still couldn’t believe he thought they were hot) and, of her own choosing, a baby-doll T-shirt featuring a dragon. As for Jack, it turned out he kept a duffel in the back of his SUV stuffed with various emergency supplies—including spare clothes. He’d changed into sweats and a faded blue NYPD T-shirt. She’d called him super-sexy, to which he’d replied, “You’re nuts.” But he’d tempered that observation with a warm smile.
Unlike most of the people in town, when it came to Kylie’s likes and dislikes, Jack didn’t make her feel like an oddball. He appreciated new world music and martial arts films. He was a big fan of Asian food and even liked green tea. When she’d mentioned that Wong’s delivered, he’d placed an order, impressing her when he’d pronounced the entries and appetizers with the ease of someone who knew the language. When she’d asked about that, he’d said he’d spent a lot of time in Chinatown. She’d been full of questions about the people and the culture. His answers had transported her to another world. If she never got to Asia, she’d definitely make it to Chinatown in Manhattan.
That’s if she could conquer her new fear of heights enough to get on a plane.
Sigh.
Forty minutes later, they sat on her futon drinking wine and eating Chinese takeout. Her coffee table was lined with several cardboard cartons filled with delicious-smelling Asian cuisine. Some new-to-her dishes, some old favorites. She watched as Jack expertly manipulated shrimp lo mein with chopsticks, marveling how a Midwestern boy had grown into a worldly man. No wonder he and Spenser enjoyed a lifelong friendship. Two adventurous souls with old-fashioned values.
Kylie nibbled at a bamboo shoot. “I bet you’d try
zongzi
. Or
chimaki
, the Japanese version.”
“I’ve had
zongzi
and
chimaki.
”
She furrowed her brow and sampled General Tso’s Chicken. “They have Japanese restaurants in Chinatown?”
“There are more than two hundred restaurants in Chinatown, hon. Chinese, Cantonese, Japanese, Thai, Vietnamese, Korean…”
“Wow. So, did you like it?”
“Zongzi?” He shrugged. “Kind of bland.”
“Oh.” Not exactly what she wanted to hear about one of her dream foods. “So, tell me more about your work with the NYPD. I know you started in the 5th Precinct, which includes Chinatown and Little Italy and SoHo—”
“Bits of SoHo.”
Another place she’d like to see, after hearing Jack describe it. A popular artsy neighborhood, populated with trendy boutiques and sidewalk vendors. “But then you said you transferred to a couple of other precincts. Because?”
“Various reasons. Promotions. Opportunities. Challenges.”
He’d worked his way up from patrol officer to detective. Homicide detective. When Spenser had first told her she’d been in awe, thinking of all the good he did. Now she could only think about the bad he saw. “I can’t imagine the crime you battled. The things you’ve seen.”
“Good.”
Kylie heard an awful lot of tension in that one word. She allowed a moment to pass, sipping her wine while she garnered her courage. Something told her this subject was off limits, but she was dying to know. “Faye said that Kerri said that Deputy Ziffel said you burned out on big crime.”
“That’s the short of it.” Jack topped off her wine, then refilled his own glass.
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want that stuff in your head.”
“The kind of stuff they show on
CSI
and
Omertà?
”
Jack met her gaze and held it. “There’s a big difference between fiction and reality, Kylie.”
She fidgeted. “I know that.”
“Tell me about your dream trip.”
The change of subject jolted her, but she decided to roll with it. She’d get to the bottom of Jack’s burnout at some point. As long as she sensed suffering, she’d want to soothe it.
“You’re a caretaker, not a risk-taker.”
Faye’s words still stung. They made Kylie feel bland, like
zongzi
. She shrugged off the hurt and drizzled duck sauce on a spring roll. She broached the cursed trip of her dreams. “Not much to tell. I fell in love with all things Asian—” she gestured to her home decor “—around the time I fell for you.”
“So you were twelve,” he teased.
“Fourteen,” she lied. “One time, okay a few times, I followed you and Spenser to karate class and peeked in.”
“Spense and I were in and out of martial arts when we were sixteen. A brief fascination with Bruce Lee.” His lip twitched. “You would’ve been twelve.”
She blushed. “The point is, I got sucked in by the grace and discipline of the art.”
And the way Jack had looked kicking butt.
“I started reading everything I could find on the Orient. Something about their culture, their spiritualism, called to me. I decided I was going to experience it for myself. I wanted to spend a month or two backpacking through Japan and China. Somewhere along the way, I started thinking of it as my dream trip. It wasn’t until this past week that I realized it truly is a dream.”
“Why’s that?”
“It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got all night.” Jack set aside his food and leaned back against the futon. His earnest gaze was unnerving.
She abandoned her spring roll and sipped more wine. “All right. Here’s the short of it.”
Jack smiled and her insides fluttered.
Dang.
She cleared her throat. “I actually had the opportunity to visit Japan as part of an exchange student program my junior year in high school. I was pumped. I had my parents’ blessings. Actually, I think Dad was happy to get me out of his hair for several months.”
“I don’t know about that, Tiger.”
“I do.” She’d been a nuisance, always hanging around the store. Always trying to impress him with her shoe smarts. “Anyway, I bailed.”
“Why?”
“That’s the year Grandpa McGraw was diagnosed with cancer. I couldn’t go. I just…I couldn’t.”
Jack nodded. “Okay. I’ve got the time reference now. Couldn’t have been easy to watch Wilbur fade like that.”
“It wasn’t. But, I loved him and my family was hurting, so…I needed to be here, not there.”
Jack reached over and squeezed her hand.
Kylie soaked in his kindness and shut out the past. “Fast-forward to several years later. I was determined to take my dream trip. It was a personal goal, something I kept close to my heart and under my hat. I guess I thought blabbing about it would somehow make it less special. Or maybe I thought people would laugh and chalk it up to another one of my eccentricities. I don’t know. Anyway, I worked hard, skimped and saved and was just a few hundred shy of my goal fund when I learned Grandma McGraw was close to financial ruin. Strike that. She’d hit the skids.”
Jack frowned. “Spenser didn’t say anything about that. He’s never said anything about your dream trip, either. I understand about not sharing your plans with all of Eden, Kylie, but why not your brother?”
“It would have meant him coming home for two months to run McGraw’s. I didn’t want to interfere with his career. First, he was up-and-coming, then he was the star of a hit cable show. The timing never seemed right. Although I admit, I thought he’d burn out at some point and come home to rejuvenate. Then I’d go.” She snorted. “Spenser’s proving himself tireless.”
“You could always hire someone to run the store in your absence. I can’t see Spense having a problem with that.”
“
I
have a problem with that.”
“Ah.”
“As for Grandma’s crisis, Spenser doesn’t know about that, either. And you can’t tell him.” Kylie held out her little finger. “Pinkie swear.”
Jack rolled his eyes, but he crooked his pinkie around hers and shook.
Kylie spilled the beans about her grandma’s depression and her lethal addiction to the shopping network.
“Christ.”
“Her pride was at stake, Jack. I couldn’t go to Mom or Spenser. I promised her I wouldn’t.”
“You used your dream trip fund to pay off her debts.”
She shrugged. “It’s only money.”
“But you still wanted to tour Asia. So you started from scratch. Saved again.”
“It’s not that hard. You just have to be frugal.”
“Hence the thrifty trailer in the middle of nowhere, the sparse furnishings. You’re the most unmaterialistic woman I’ve ever known.”
Kylie shrugged. “It’s the quality of life that matters. A fancy home and lots of stuff won’t make you happy if you’re not happy on the inside.”
“Are you happy?”
“Right now?” She grinned up at him. “I’m delirious.”
He smoothed a thumb over her cheek. “I meant in general.”
She glanced away. “I’m restless. I don’t know what it is, Jack. But ever since my birthday…I guess I’m not where I wanted to be at thirty-two.”
“Asia?”
That. And married with children. The former seemed the safer subject. She quirked a self-conscious smile. “I almost had enough for the trip, but I splurged on the renovations to McGraw’s. Faye said it’s because my priorities have shifted. She said deep down, the trip’s lost its appeal. She intimated I’ve lost my nerve. Said I’d rather run the store and look after Grandma and Mom. She said I’m a caretaker, not a risk-taker. Which really bugs me. If embracing the new means being a bossy Mother Hen obsessed with all work and no play and ending up an old maid, then I’m totally against it.”
“You won’t end up an old maid, Kylie.”
“But I won’t end up with you or at least not married to you because you’re not husband material. So you say.” She slapped her palm to her forehead. “I can’t believe I said that. Too much wine.” She set aside the glass. “I should stick to beer. I never speak out of turn when I drink beer.”
He just smiled and squeezed her hand. “I’d rather know your mind than have to guess.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. Well, I’m thinking I really enjoyed this night.”
“Me, too.”
“And that, since we click, maybe we should click a little more. No promises. No expectations. Just live for now and see where it takes us.”
“Faye was wrong,” he said with a raised brow. “You’re a risk-taker.”
She started to smile, then worried he might follow up with a brush-off.
Jack hugged her close and kissed the top of her head. They both held silent for a while, assessing, she assumed, how this potential relationship fit into their shaky lives. It was the most awkward moment in the evening.
Jack spoke first. “There’s this game,” he said, plucking two fortune cookies from the coffee table. “You read your fortune and end it with—”
“I know the game.” Heart lighter, Kylie snitched a cookie and cracked it open. She pulled out her fortune and read. “There is a true and sincere friendship between you—in bed.”
“Nice.” Jack cracked his cookie, grinned. “You shall seek out new adventures—in bed.”
She rolled her eyes. “You made that up.”
He showed her the fortune.
“Wow.”
“Who are we to fight destiny?”
Kylie shifted and straddled Jack’s lap. She wiggled against his erection and quirked a wicked smile. “This time I get to be the dominant one.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
J
ACK WAS ASLEEP WHEN
his cell phone rang. He hadn’t slept this soundly in years. It took a few seconds to shake off the haze. He disentangled himself from Kylie, smiling when she groaned and rolled back into him, still very much asleep. He nabbed his cell from the nightstand and answered softly.
“It’s Jessica,” the voice on the other end responded. “I’m sorry to bother you. I know you’re…well, busy, but, this is an emergency. I think. Maybe. I’m not sure. But…I need you.”
Words he never thought he’d hear from his sister chilled him to the bone.
“Talk to me.” Jack rolled out of bed, ignored his sweats and tugged on his dress jeans.
Kylie stirred and pinned him with dazed, worried eyes.
He shushed her with a raised hand and focused on his sister’s shaky words.
“I needed some things from the house, my…Frank’s house,” she clarified. “I loaded Madeline and Shy into the SUV. We drove over and, like always, I parked in back. Told Madeline to stay in the car while I ran inside only…the back door was ajar. I’m sure it was locked when I left. I think…I think someone broke in.”
“Tell me you’re not inside.”
“Give me some credit. What if they’re still in there?”
“Where are you now?”
“Driving Madeline and Shy over to Mrs. Carmichael’s.”
“Good. Stay with them.” He sat on the bed and jammed his feet into his shoes. What the fuck?
Kylie moved against him, massaged his shoulders.
He reached up and squeezed her hand, noting her calm and kindness. “I’m on my way,” he told Jessie. “But I’m calling Officer Anderson. He’s ten minutes closer.”
“No. No cops. I mean, other than you. Please,” she pleaded. “I don’t want people snooping in the house.”
“Jessie—”
“I mean it, Jack. Please.”
Her pleading got to him. Tore at him. “All right. But stay at Mrs. Carmichael’s until I call you.”
“Thank you, Jack.”
She hung up and Jack clipped his cell to his belt.
“What is it?” Kylie asked. “What’s wrong?”
“I have to go.” He brushed a quick kiss across her mouth. “I’ll call you later. Lock the door behind me.”
He was buckled inside the Aspen before he realized he’d probably worried Kylie more by shutting her out. He’d done the same thing with his ex. Shut her out. It was preferable to subjecting her to his seedy, dangerous world. It had also pushed her away.
“Damn.”
Old habits die hard. Although he wasn’t sure this was a habit he could or even wanted to break. Protecting the people he cared about came naturally. He cared about Kylie. He wouldn’t go so far as to say he was in love, but he was sure as hell infatuated.
Intoxicated
.
Jack shook off the lingering effects of the night before. He focused on his sister’s potential crisis and stepped on the gas.
It was a beautiful September morning, sunny with mild temps in the low sixties, yet Jack’s mood turned more grim with each passing mile. Something had driven Jessie out of that house and now someone had broken in? He suspected Frank was at the bottom of this. He mulled over the possibilities, cursed as he neared the Cortez’s upscale home. The Escalade parked across the street belonged to Jessie. What the hell?
He parked a few feet behind, relaxed a little when he saw her sitting in the driver’s seat. At least she wasn’t inside. Jaw clenched, he approached and knocked.
She yelped, then lowered the window. “You scared the pee out of me.”
“I told you to stay at Mrs. Carmichael’s.”
“Waiting for a phone call from Deputy Ziffel informing me you’d been shot or stabbed or bludgeoned, and bled to death because no one was there to help you?” She frowned. “No, thank you.”
“I’m touched you care.”
“Of course I care.” She blew out an anxious breath. “After dropping off Madeline and the dog, I doubled back. I couldn’t bear the thought of you going in alone without some sort of backup. At least I can call for help if you get into trouble. At least… Would you please stop smiling?”
“First you ask for my help. Now you’re actually worried about me. Does my heart good, little sister.”
She glowered. “How can you be so calm?”
“Comes with the job. Besides, I don’t think I’m going to find anyone in there. If someone did break in, probably happened in the middle of the night.” He glanced over his shoulder at the two-story, fourteen-room house—a small mansion by most of Eden’s standards. “Anything of particular value in there?”
“Try everything. We only bought the best.”
“Frank keep money in the house?”
“There’s a safe in his office, but I assume he cleared it out when he left.”
Jack nodded. “Stay in the car. I mean it.”
“Wait! Do you have a gun?”
He hitched back his leather jacket to give her a glimpse of his holstered piece.
“That’s something, I guess.”
“Stay here,” he repeated, then angled toward the house. Following standard procedure, he entered the premises, then swept the entire house, upstairs and down. Certain he was alone, he dialed Jessie.
She answered midring. “Are you okay?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“Whoever was here is gone. Come in through the back. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
In the ten seconds it took her to comply, he pondered the situation. “I need to protect and preserve the scene,” he said when she crept over the threshold. “Don’t touch anything.”
“The
scene?
As in crime scene? What am I in for, Jack?” Hands balled, she hugged herself, then followed him through the kitchen and dining area. When they passed the recreation room stuffed with a myriad of electronics, she spoke. “It doesn’t look like anything’s missing.”
“I don’t think we’re dealing with a straight-ahead burglary,” Jack said, tugging a pair of latex gloves from his pocket. “I think it was personal and directed at Frank. Brace yourself.”
He stepped into Frank’s home office, grasping Jessie’s elbow as she moved in alongside. He wasn’t surprised when she swayed. The devastation was extensive. Bookcases overturned, stuffing ripped from the leather sofa. It looked like someone had taken a baseball bat to Frank’s computer monitor and hard-drive tower.
“My God, Jack.”
“Someone was pissed and they were looking for something. Where’s the safe?”
“In that closet, behind the stack of file boxes.”
Not wanting his own fingerprints in the mix, Jack pulled on the thin gloves. He stepped over strewn books and broken knick-knacks and opened the door. “The safe’s locked,” he called out. “Maybe they cracked it then tidied up. Do you know the combination?”
“No. I’m sorry. I never asked. It was Frank’s private safe. He said it was for sensitive case files. Now I’m wondering…”
Jack stepped out and noted his sister’s crimson face. “What?”
She averted her gaze. “Never mind.”
“Any idea what they were looking for?”
She shook her head.
“Frank make any enemies of late that you know of?” he persisted.
She massaged her temples. “I don’t suppose he’s popular with the husbands of the wives he had affairs with. That’s if the husbands found out. Frank was amazingly discreet. He fooled me for years.” She met his gaze. “But not you. You never liked Frank to begin with.”
“The man was
too
likable,” he said. “I didn’t trust that. Plus, I had a gut feeling.”
“You tried to warn me.”
“I tried to bully you into not marrying him. I handled the situation badly, Jessie. I wish I’d had a better perspective.”
“Why did you punch Frank on my wedding day?” she blurted.
“Why don’t we hold off on that?” She had enough to deal with, and he needed to grab his latent-print kit and camera from the back of the Aspen.
“I’d been mingling with our guests, wondering about Frank. He’d been gone quite a while. I was worried, so I went looking,” she said, intent on reliving that moment. “I found him in the garden nursing a bloody nose. He said you punched him. Said you were an interfering asshole. When I confronted you, you dodged the issue. Because of that moment, Jack, because I was blinded by love, I cut you out of my life.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Please. I have to know.”
“I caught him making out with Jenny Franklin in the wine cellar.”
“During our wedding reception?” she squeaked.
Uncomfortable, Jack eased his sister back into the hall, toward the spacious, immaculate living room. “It was pretty hot and heavy. Jenny was obviously drunk and ran off in tears. I rammed my fist into Frank’s face before he got a word out. Though after, he claimed that he, too, was drunk. Said it had never happened before and never would again. I didn’t believe him, but I wanted to. For your sake.”
“The man I loved to distraction for thirteen years cheated on me on our wedding day. Our
wedding day
.” The first tear fell. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would you have believed me?”
She closed her eyes, sighed. “No.”
Jack touched her arm. “Jessie, I need to call this in.”
“No! Please. Can’t we just, I don’t know, look into this privately or maybe ignore it?”
“A crime’s been committed. Let me do my job, Jess.”
“But I don’t want people snooping around here. I don’t want them to know…” She broke off, swiped away tears.
“Why did you show up at my house in the middle of the night?” Jack asked in a tender voice. “What spooked you?”
“It’s awful, Jack. Dark and ugly and…”
“Tell me.”
“I can’t. I can’t talk about it. But, I’ll show you. Just…promise you won’t make this public.”
How could he promise without knowing what he was dealing with? “I need you to trust me, Jess. Trust that I’ll do the right thing.”
She quirked a shaky smile. “You always do the right thing. I used to resent you for that.” Stiff-backed, she climbed the stairs.
Jack stayed close behind.
She visibly trembled as she entered her bedroom. She looked everywhere but at the bed. The bed she’d shared with Frank. “Our whole marriage was a lie,” she rasped. “There was a side to him I never knew, a side beyond the affairs. A dark side.” She pointed to her walk-in closet. “In there, on the floor. They fell out of a suitcase when I accidentally knocked it from the shelf. After that I…I couldn’t stay here. I didn’t know what else he’d hidden or where. I didn’t want Madeline to trip upon…any other evidence.”
Jack moved into the closet. He saw several magazines shoved or kicked into the corner. Intrigued, he kneeled and sorted through the titles. “Shit.”
Like most men, he’d grown up admiring
Playboy
centerfolds and indulging in occasional skin flicks with inane titles like
Making Mona Moan
. But he was a Boy Scout compared to Frank. His brother-in-law was obsessed with extreme hardcore porn. Raunchy magazines featuring women on women, men on men, threesomes, underage girls, orgies—all sadistic.
Between this revelation, his multiple affairs and the break-in, no wonder Jessie was a basket case.
“I didn’t know about his…obsession. He never hinted or slipped or…I’m not a prude, Jack, but, if I’d known, I’m not sure I could have tolerated it. Those pictures, the stories, they’re…”
“Twisted.” He skimmed the contents.
Jesus
.
“I’m wondering now…what if he has sex toys or illicit videos locked in that safe,” Jessie said in a choked voice. “And what if he hid things throughout the house? I couldn’t chance Madeline finding…. We couldn’t stay here…I hope you understand,” she said on a rush of sobs. “I’m an idiot. A fool. Please don’t tell.”
Heartbroken and furious, Jack removed the latex gloves, left the closet and pulled his sister into his arms. “Listen to me, Jess. Trust me. It’ll be all right,” he said in a gentle voice. “I promise.”