Chapter Eleven
Parkridge Drive, Homewood, 10.00
P.M.
L
ori stayed in the bathroom as long as she could without risking Chet figuring out what she was doing.
She and Chet Harper had been living together less than a week and already they’d had their first major fight. He was angry because she pretended to have something else to do this weekend, which prevented her from going to the zoo with him and Chester. He couldn’t say for sure she wasn’t telling the truth. He
suspected
she wasn’t because she had been up front with him regarding her reservations about his three-year-old son.
Little Chester hated her. End of story. He couldn’t stand to be close to her. He clung to Chet whenever she was around. Nothing she said or did made any difference. The kid simply did not like her. Why would she make herself and the kid and Chet miserable by going to the zoo with them on Saturday afternoon?
Let the two of them enjoy the day and they could be miserable with her that evening. Because until the kid went to sleep that night, he would be miserable with her there. His father would be miserable because little Chester was miserable and Lori would be miserable at the whole idea.
She’d get her sister Terri to cover for her with some excuse of plans the two of them had with their mother. It shouldn’t be a big deal. Except it was. Chet saw right through her.
He knew what she was up to.
She couldn’t exactly hide in here all night.
Lori draped her towel over the side of the tub and secured the sash of her robe. Before making her exit, she ran her fingers through her hair once more, checked her teeth. She walked to the door that separated her from the confrontation waiting in her otherwise perfect relationship with a totally awesome guy.
The sound of the door latch echoed like a shotgun blast through the silent room. He’d already gone to bed. He was definitely upset with her if he didn’t want to say good night.
The lights were out except for the one in the hall. She tiptoed to the bed. When the lump in there didn’t move or say anything, she understood that he was through arguing for the night.
She would have liked to clear the air but Chet would prefer to avoid the problem. That concept made her angry all over again. Why the hell couldn’t he understand her position? He was a father. He’d gone through the pregnancy with his wife and spent three years playing the part of daddy. She hadn’t done any of that stuff. Yes, Chester was a precious little boy but he wasn’t
her
little boy. She hoped one day they could be comfortable around each other but there was no way to rush the bonding.
Not for the child and not for her.
She yanked off her robe and tossed it aside before crawling beneath the sheet. This was exactly what she had feared. Before they had moved in together, the concept of becoming a pseudomother was just that – a concept.
Maybe she wasn’t mother material.
Chet had no right rushing her into that step.
Something she obviously should have discussed in more detail with him before she’d moved into his home. The one that had a bedroom for his son – a point she had made when they had been contemplating the idea of moving in together.
What an idiot she had been! A child wasn’t a piece of property. She should have given more weight to the reality that when she got the man, she got the kid. She couldn’t love Chet without learning to love Chester.
She wanted to! She really did. But she needed time.
‘I was wrong.’
His deep voice flowed through the darkness and skimmed her bare skin like warm silk. She couldn’t hold back the shiver the sound prompted.
Lori rolled to her side. He did the same. It was too dark to see his face or eyes, but she already knew both by heart.
‘I want to do this right, Chet.’ She hoped her voice conveyed just how deeply she meant those words. ‘But you’re pushing your son and me to form a bond when we both need time. I can’t make him trust me much less love me.’
For a few moments they lay in the dark, the silence widening between them.
‘I love you, Lori.’
She couldn’t bear it. She reached out, traced the strong line of his jaw. The dampness there made her breath catch. ‘I love you.’ She hadn’t meant to hurt him . . . she’d made the strongest man she knew
cry
. Her heart squeezed in agony.
‘I love my son too,’ he murmured. ‘I want you to love him . . . I want him to love you.’
Her lips trembled into a smile. ‘It takes time. I will love him a little more each day just like I do you. But it’ll take longer for him to love me. He doesn’t understand.’
‘I know. I didn’t mean to push too hard.’
She moved closer to him, pressed her lips to his damp jaw. ‘I know. We’re both finding our way.’
‘Chester and I will go to the zoo on Saturday. You go relax with your mom and sister. We’ll catch up at dinner.’
Lori made her decision then and there. ‘No. I’m going with you and Chester.’
‘I don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready to do,’ Chet urged gently, but she could hear the hope in his voice.
‘Chester needs consistency. If I’m with you sometimes but not other times, he might get confused. I was wrong to be such a coward.’ That was the truth. Jess had advised her to be consistent. Lori was a grown woman. It was ridiculous for her to be afraid of a child. She and Chet were making a life together.
That life included his son.
‘I need consistency too.’
Lori frowned but he couldn’t see her in the dark. ‘Is something else wrong?’ How else had she screwed up? Oh, man. This was worse than she thought.
He rolled her onto her back and burrowed between her thighs. ‘I want to make love to you every day for the rest of my life. Missing a day doesn’t work for me.’
‘Who said we were going to miss a day?’ She couldn’t think of anything she’d rather do than spend her life making love with this man.
He pushed into her. Her whole body tensed with anticipation.
‘I want to kiss every part of you.’ He started at her forehead and began a methodical path over her face . . . but it was his hips grinding into hers with each firm thrust that had her unable to catch her breath.
‘Here,’ he murmured as he nuzzled her ear.
Her leg muscles tightened as she lifted her hips to meet his.
His mouth covered her breast . . . her fingers tangled in his hair as the waves of orgasm began. He cupped her bottom, pulled her harder against him as his own urgency drove him steadily toward that pinnacle of sensations.
Afterward he held her tight until her heart stopped pounding.
As she drifted off to sleep, she wondered how she would ever survive if she lost this man.
She hadn’t wanted a relationship like this . . . but she hadn’t been able to stop herself from falling so deeply in love with him.
How had this happened so fast?
Chapter Twelve
Birmingham Police Department,
Wednesday, August 11, 8.05
A.M.
J
ess had gotten to the office early. She and Lori had updated the case board with what they’d learned from Baker’s wife. The possible scenarios, such as an angry business partner and an obsessed mistress, had been added to the board. Alibis for six of the widows had been confirmed. Frances, dear, sweet, Frances, was the lone unsubstantiated person of interest among the group.
Buddy Corlew, the Tracker, had been added as a person of interest.
At Jess’s request, Harper and Cook had made a run to the department’s forensics garage to pick up her Audi. To finish clearing the SPU office, she sent Prescott to do some follow
-
up interviews with the two janitors at Vestavia Village who had discovered Baker’s body. Lori was tracking down fresh coffee.
Jess had maybe ten minutes before any of her team returned. She waited with mounting impatience for the call to connect. She’d intended to have this conversation with Supervisory Special Agent Ralph Gant, her former boss at the Bureau, before she left for work. But Lori had shown up earlier than expected and since she had been Jess’s ride to work, that was the end of that.
‘Gant.’
Finally. ‘Good morning,’ Jess said with all the perkiness she could muster. ‘How are things with you?’
‘Has
he
contacted you?’ Gant cut straight to the chase without even a hello. Tension thickened his voice.
Jess made a face. Couldn’t the man ask how she was or at least answer her question? She was the one who needed answers. ‘I’m calling to see if you have anything new on Spears?’ She held her breath, hoped her little maneuver would work.
‘We haven’t picked anything up on him since he left the country. Wherever he is, the bastard’s flying way under our radar. I don’t know why I’m surprised – that’s his MO. I just don’t like it, that’s all. He killed one of my best agents, not to mention one of Birmingham’s. I want that bastard.’
Jess didn’t like it either. She turned to stare out the window behind her desk. What if he was out there? Watching her every move again? To say good night at a time she was most likely in bed was one thing. Even to know when her ex
-
husband showed up in Birmingham wasn’t outside the realm of easily obtained knowledge. Reporters had been all over the place the night her motel room was vandalized. Wesley’s face may have shown up in one of the shots. But last night’s text was a horse of a different color. How had he known she was having wine?
She shook off the troubling thought and decided there was no way to ask this question that wouldn’t rouse Gant’s suspicions but she had to know. ‘What are the chances that he has slipped back into the country without detection?’ She braced for a deluge of questions, though her query was perfectly logical. Despite the very best efforts, people slipped through the tightest security measures every hour of every day.
‘I knew it,’ Gant fairly shouted. ‘He has contacted you. How the hell am I supposed to conduct this investigation if you don’t keep me up to speed?’
Get around that one, Jess
. ‘I received a text from him. That’s it. Short and sweet. Last night before midnight.’ That was about as vague as she could get without being obvious. If he found out about all the other text messages, he would come unhinged on her. Gant might not be her boss anymore but he was in charge of the Spears investigation. He could make her life miserable if he suspected she was in any way impeding that investigation.
‘What did he say? Did he threaten you in some way? What?’ Gant demanded, his frustration loud and clear.
She grimaced in advance. This was not going to bode well. ‘Cheers.’
All ten seconds that elapsed before he spoke again throbbed in her brain.
‘Does that mean something in particular to you, Harris?’
Harris, not Jess. The frustration had been kicked aside in favor of an attempt at intimidation. Had he forgotten already that those tactics just didn’t work with her?
‘It means nothing.’ Her sister would tell her she was going to hell for lying but Jess was pretty sure that particular sin was way down on the list of her transgressions. A fact she had no plans to point out to her sister. ‘I mean, I did have wine last night but there’s no way Spears could have known that.’
Gant didn’t bother pointing out that somehow Spears had obviously known she was having wine.
Oh God
. She rubbed at her neck. Why did this have to be so complicated? If he was after her, why didn’t he just bust through her door? One more shot at him was all she needed.
‘I’ll need access to your phone records.’
Gant didn’t trust her to give him the whole story. And he was pissed. Well, hell, why had she even told him? ‘No need to go through all that red tape. I can tell you the number he used – if it was even him and if he hasn’t dumped the phone already. I doubt checking it out will be worth your trouble.’
The chances of tracking him on a throwaway cell were slim to none but she liked throwing that remote possibility in Spears’s face every chance she got.
‘Why don’t you let me be the judge of whether it’s worth the trouble?’ Gant demanded.
‘Fine,’ she snapped. ‘Feel free to access my cell phone records, Agent Gant.’
Grudges are not attractive accessories, Jess
. Just because Gant hadn’t backed her up when the shit hit the fan a couple of months ago and her Bureau career had been crumbling was no cause to be a bitch now.
‘Text me the number too.’ Gant heaved a put-upon sigh. ‘He may have someone local watching you. You need to be careful, Jess. This guy has a dangerous fixation on you. You know how this could go the same as I do.’
‘That’s why I’m calling.’ No one comprehended the situation she was in any better than she did. She had two options. Ignore Spears and keep her fingers crossed that he was too afraid of getting caught to return to this country or bait him in hopes of nailing him if he did come back. She’d chosen the latter. Problem was, she couldn’t share that with Burnett or Gant because all they wanted to do was shove her into protective custody. ‘He made contact. I’m notifying you.’
‘I’ll let you know the instant I have anything new,’ Gant assured her.
‘Thanks. I appreciate it.’ Jess ended the call. She stared at the pedestrians on the sidewalks below rushing to get to their offices. Spears could be out there. Or one of his henchmen. He could have someone watching her. He liked playing games. They didn’t call him the Player for nothing.
She had let her guard down to some degree. Whenever she had a case, she lost track of all else. Between work and finding a place to rent until her house in Virginia sold, she had been a little preoccupied. Maybe Burnett and Gant were right. She needed to be more careful. She’d made at least two too many enemies.
Eric Spears she understood. For months she had studied the Player. She had known what made him tick even before she learned his real name. She knew what he wanted. He wanted her. To play with for a while and then to torture and kill her. That was his MO. She felt some degree of confidence that the way to stop him was to lure him back into a game with her. An up-close-and-personal game.
She needed him close . . . close enough to kill.
Captain Ted Allen was an unknown factor. He was supposed to be one of the good guys but that was up in the air now. He wanted revenge against Jess for screwing up his big case. At least, she presumed that was what he wanted. Everything else was a variable. Where was he? Who knew? What was his actual intent? No clue.
One thing was certain: she had good reason to watch her back.
Jess banished the thought and forced herself to relax by admiring the picture Devon Chambers, the key witness in last week’s investigation, had drawn for her. At only eight years old, Devon was quite the little artist. He’d captured Jess, along with her bag and badge, on a perfect sunny day beneath a blue sky. She only wished she was as slim as the golden haired stick figure he had drawn.
‘It took me a minute,’ Lori announced as she breezed into the large conference space the Special Problems Unit used as a communal office. ‘I had to brew a fresh pot.’
The scent that floated from the cups she carried had Jess meeting her in the middle of the room. ‘That smells great.’ She accepted a cup and cradled it in both hands so its warmth would chase away the lingering chill brought on by thoughts of Spears and Allen.
‘It’s all in the wrist.’ Lori made a scooping motion with her free hand. ‘Some of these guys make it so weak you can see through it. I’m here to tell you that ain’t coffee.’
Jess tested Lori’s theory. The brew was every bit as delicious as the stuff the detective made at home. ‘If you ever decide to give up police work,’ she told her friend, ‘you could teach Starbucks a few things.’
Lori smiled but it looked a little overdone. ‘I might not be the motherly type but I can bring down the house with my coffee-making skills.’
Jess felt her eyebrows rear up in surprise. ‘Still worried about Chester, huh?’
Lori shook her head. ‘I understand I have to give him time, but this is tough.’ She shrugged. ‘I feel like my entire life is on hold because a person less than three feet tall doesn’t like me. By Friday I’m dreading Sunday and no sooner than we take Chester home on Sunday I’m already worried about Wednesday.’
Before Jess could scrounge up a witty answer, her cell phone clanged that vintage sound she loved to hate. ‘Hold that thought,’ she told her friend; then she laughed. ‘Or maybe let it go for now.’
‘That would make being around me a lot easier,’ Lori assured her.
Jess checked the screen, didn’t recognize the number. ‘Harris.’
‘Well, good morning, sunshine.’
Buddy Corlew
.
No matter that she didn’t want to, she heard Burnett’s voice in her head warning that Corlew might have his own revenge on his mind. The two had been rivals back in high school but she’d had no idea about the troubles since.
Jess elbowed Burnett’s warning aside. ‘What can I do for you, Mr Corlew?’ She said his name with a pointed look at Lori.
Lori smirked. She didn’t have to say the words. Jess knew what she was thinking.
I told you so
.
‘I watched the news about your vic, Baker, last night and I remembered something from my dirt search on the guy that might prove useful to your investigation.’
‘Really? And what would that be?’ Like he hadn’t remembered this whatever it was when she spoke to him yesterday. Maybe Burnett was right. Maybe Corlew wanted to play games. Well, she didn’t have time for games. Unless he had the name of someone who wanted Scott Baker out of the way or he knew who Scott was having sex with besides his wife, then Corlew was wasting Jess’s time.
‘Not over the phone. Meet me at Cedar Hill Cemetery in Bessemer. Say in a half hour? I’ll give you the big break you need on this case.’
‘Cedar Hill Cemetery?’ The call ended before she could demand a better explanation. She stared at her phone and bit back a slew of curses.
‘We taking a road trip?’
Jess savored a sip of her coffee before surrendering to the inevitable. ‘Yes. We are. Corlew is going to hand us the big break we need to solve this case.’
Lori grabbed her cell and purse from her desk. ‘I knew he had the hots for you.’
‘We’ll just see about that, Detective.’
Cedar Hill Cemetery, Bessemer, 9.01
A.M.
Lori turned into the cemetery, rolling past the gates. Thankfully there were no services or service preparations going on this morning.
‘That’s him.’ Jess leaned forward and studied the man leaning against the black Dodge Charger. He’d pulled over to one side of the main thoroughfare that cut through the landscape of headstones. ‘What’re you up to, Corlew?’
Lori pulled over behind him and shut off her Mustang. ‘I guess we’re about to find out.’
Corlew pushed off the muscle car and strode toward them. ‘Nice wheels,’ he said to Lori.
She acknowledged his compliment with a nod. ‘Thanks. Yours aren’t so bad either.’
‘Got the Hemi engine to back it up too.’
Jess resisted the urge to step aside and give them plenty of space for a pissing contest. ‘You said you’d remembered something useful to my case.’
‘Follow me.’ He turned and swaggered into the cemetery proper.
Cedar Hill had been a part of Birmingham history for more than a century. The grave markers spread for acres and acres. The best she recalled someone famous was buried here. A baseball or football player.
They were deep in the cemetery when her patience ran out. ‘Corlew, where the hell are we going?’
‘Right here.’ He stopped at a marker and gestured to the name engraved there. ‘This is your lead.’
Lenny Porter
. Died at eighteen, just twelve years ago.
‘I don’t really need another dead man, Corlew.’ Jess propped her hands on her hips. ‘I hope you didn’t waste my time dragging me out here.’
‘Twelve years ago, Porter was poised to graduate with honors. He was headed to MIT with a full scholarship. Instead, the night before graduation, he walked off the roof of the old
Birmingham News
building. His death was ruled a suicide but there were those of us who believed otherwise.’
‘What does his death, suicide or homicide, have to do with Scott Baker?’
Other than the obvious
, Jess kept to herself. The year of his death was the year Baker graduated from high school. ‘Were Porter and Baker classmates?’
Corlew shook his head. ‘They were miles apart. Like a couple other guys I once knew. Baker was the rich, popular kid and Porter was the nerd who spent his high school years glued to the wall wishing he had a life.’
Jess motioned for him to go on.
‘Porter takes a nosedive. No one really cares but the police have to investigate, it makes the news, then fades away. Except’ – those gray eyes of his glittered with mischief – ‘his burial expenses were paid for by a certain wealthy Birmingham family you might know . . . the Bakers.’