Truth and Consequences (10 page)

Hands behind his head, Jason lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. The rich voice of Johnny Cash filled the room with a song about a man trapped in prison, longing for the freedom offered by a passing train.

Trapped and longing. He could relate to that.

He’d stashed his groceries earlier and eaten a turkey sandwich, satisfying his body’s physical hunger. A deeper hunger continued to gnaw at his gut. Damn it, he could still taste her, still feel the warmth of her body aligned with his.

She’d let him kiss her. More than that, she’d kissed him back, moaned into his mouth and swayed into him.

She thought he deserved better. No one, except maybe Mrs. Louella Hatcher, had ever thought that of him.

He closed his eyes, remembering the aching quality of her voice asking him to quit.

Her voice. Just one more taste of his name on her lips. Was that asking too much?

The phone lay on the bedside table. All he had to do was reach for it, punch in a number already memorized, and he could be awash in her voice again.

A sorry substitute for her kisses, but a fix for his craving, the addiction he couldn’t let himself satisfy.

Johnny’s crooning faded to nothingness and silence descended on the room, crushing in its intensity.

Muttering curses, he rolled over and reached for the phone.

With her mother’s words beating in her head, Kathleen undressed for bed and removed her makeup. How dare Mama insinuate she was wasting her life? Anger trembled under her skin. She was satisfied. Work was good, her hours were filled—so what if she didn’t have the traditional lives her cousins and high school friends had? She’d tried the wife and mother bit, and the failure had almost killed her.

Be honest, Kathleen. It did kill you, way deep down inside. Altee’s right. The girl you used to be, the real woman you were going to be, died with Everett
.

Shaking off the dismal little voice, she tossed the washcloth in the hamper and snapped off the bathroom light. Thinking about it, dwelling on it, didn’t change anything. It just made the nagging sense of hurt and loss worse.

The polished wood cool beneath her feet, she padded across the bedroom and jerked the covers back. Low light spilled from the beaded lamp by the bed and cast colored shadows on the wall. That light would make Jason’s tanned skin even darker, highlighted against the snowy sheets.

Stop. That kiss was as far as it was going to go. That kiss alone was too far.
Stop thinking about him
.

The news. Stories about the impending IRS deadline and the local budget deficits would take her mind off everything, including Jason Harding. Settling against the pillows, she reached for the remote.

The phone rang and she frowned at the clock. After eleven. Who on earth? A glance at the caller ID screen revealed a Haynes County number with no name.

She didn’t need a name. Her pulse picked up, a distinct thud at her throat.

A second ring, temptation hovering in the room.

Her hand trembling, she picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

Charged silence popped along the line. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry, and tried again. “Hello?”

Silence.

“Jason?”

The connection stretched, the sensation one of darkness reaching for her. None of the warmth and passion she’d experienced in his arms. A chill worked its way over her skin. With slow precision, she replaced the receiver. She pulled the comforter over her shoulders and turned her back on the phone.

She couldn’t bring herself to turn off the light.

Kathleen’s gaze remained trained on the diagram and photographs hanging on the wall, but she sighed at her partner’s droll tone. She still felt as if she were slogging through mud, mentally and physically. Three cups of coffee hadn’t helped either. With one hand, she covered a wide yawn.

“Stop doing that. You’re making me do it, too.” Altee shook her head. “What kept you up last night?”

“Prank phone call.” She’d run the number from her caller ID—a pay phone at a Haynes County gas station. The little trill of nerves tickled down her spine once more. She’d lain awake for hours with the memory of that dark silence hovering over her.

“A prank call?”

“Yes. Just an open line.”

“Kath.”

“Leave it alone, Altee. It was just a phone call.”

“Did you trace it?”

“Straight to a dead end. It’s nothing. Just more games. But believe me, I’m being exceedingly careful.” She’d altered her morning routine and changed the way she journeyed to work, telling herself paranoid was better than dead. A frown tugged at her brows. “You should be, too.”

“Always.” Altee gestured at the photos pinned to the corkboard wall. “Find anything?”

“Nothing but more dead ends.” Kathleen turned her gaze back to the diagram of the scene, the photos of the little gray truck with its blood-spattered windshield. She fingered the edges of her hair, twisting a couple of thick strands together. “Maybe if it actually made sense.”

Altee’s snort was anything but ladylike. “Remember who we’re talking about.”

“No, listen. The trooper who disappeared? Everyone has always assumed it was because he saw something he shouldn’t. Tick’s daddy? He wasn’t really the target—they wanted the witness he was transporting to Atlanta. Every death we know they caused but can’t tie them to, there’s a reason. There is absolutely no reason here. Why would Jim Ed risk everything to kill these boys?”

“Meanness?”

“I don’t know.”

“Kind of amateurish, don’t you think? Like someone who hasn’t been around that long?”

“Oh, Altee, don’t. Not now. It’s not him.” She gestured at the diagram, marked with vehicle placements and time arrived. “He didn’t have time to shoot them, and I don’t think he saw anything.”

“Meaning you want to believe every word he says.”

“You know, just because he’s working there doesn’t mean he’s like all the others.”

“I would come up with some witty and biting reply, but, Kath, I’m tired of having this conversation with you. It’s like listening to Montaine trying to convince me to take him back.”

“You’re not, are you?”

“No, and I’m not buying that Jason Harding is telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. That man is hiding something. You can see it in his eyes.”

Her mother’s words replayed in her head.
He could put on a role and walk around in it
. What role was he playing? Which Jason was real? It was like looking at a fun-house hall of mirrors, not knowing if what she saw could be believed or not.

“Hey, we might have a lead.”

Kathleen spun. “What?”

“Email from Whitlock.” Altee leaned closer to the screen. “Ballistics are back on the bullets Williams took out of the boys’ bodies. Forty-caliber hollowpoints.”

“Well, that explains the amount of damage.”

“Those bullets didn’t come from that rifle or the throwaway. It gets better.” The excitement in Altee’s voice sent tingles along Kathleen’s nerve endings. “There’s a match in the database.”

“To a weapon?”

“No. To another case. Unsolved homicide, but it’s definitely the same gun.” Altee paused, dark gaze scanning the message. “You are
not
going to believe this.”

“What?”

“It’s the skeleton. The partial remains Dale Jenkins found on his farm two years ago.”

“Botine was the agent on that. He should still have the file.”

“It’s a Chandler County case, too. We should call Calvert.”

“Hmmm.” Kathleen flipped through her notes. “Jim Ed’s duty pistol is a nine millimeter. No forty-caliber registered to him, but the man is a gun fanatic. He might have one that’s not registered.”

“Think we could convince Judge Holton to give us a search warrant based on that?”

Kathleen’s unladylike snort would have horrified her mother. “I hate to say it and cast aspersions on His Honor, but we could probably get a warrant just by mentioning whose house we’re planning to search.”

Altee grinned. “Let’s go to the courthouse.”

Jason reeled a fresh report into the ancient electric typewriter and began the laborious task of getting the lines aligned to Thatcher’s expectations. Why the hell wouldn’t Thatcher update to a computerized system? Glancing at his notes, he started filling in the stolen property report. He stifled a yawn and glanced at the paper. With a muttered curse, he ripped it from the typewriter.

He’d typed Kathleen’s phone number on the line for the date. The number was stuck in his head, probably because he hadn’t allowed himself to dial it last night. Instead, he’d taken the phone out of the room and gone back to bed, letting Johnny Cash soothe him to sleep.

He’d dreamed of her, of kissing her, of those white sheets on her bed.

A brisk run, a cold shower and the sheer boredom of patrolling Haynes County hadn’t put her out of his mind. The entire time Bobby Gene Butler fussed about someone breaking into his junkyard and stealing hubcaps, a part of Jason’s mind relived kissing her. He got semi-hard every time he remembered that little moan she made in her throat. What would making love to her be like?

The squad room door slammed against the wall. Jason jumped and looked around.

Jim Ed, his face red, pointed at him. “Come with me.”

Fear slithered down his back. He gestured at the report in the typewriter. “I’ve got to—”

“Leave that shit and come on.”

He followed his cousin to the parking lot and Jim Ed’s unit. Latching his seat belt, he glanced at the other man’s tight jaw. “What’s going on?”

A muscle flicking in his cheek, Jim Ed slammed the car into reverse and wheeled around the parking lot. “I gave you an opportunity to get her under control. You screwed that up.”

Icy fingers grabbed his gut. “Would you just tell me what’s going on?”

“Your girlfriend and her partner are searching my house and they brought that bastard Calvert with them.”

Oh, crap. “It’s been two days, man. What am I supposed to do in two days?”

“Well, I’ll take care of it now.”

Double crap. “Listen, Jim Ed, you have to think about this. Think about who she is—”

“I don’t give a good goddamn who she is. I’m not letting the bitch ruin everything.”

The unit ate the miles between the jail and Jim Ed’s home. Trees and power poles blurred, and Jason clutched the armrest, trying to get a grasp on the whole situation. Kathleen refused to back down and now was invading Jim Ed’s private little kingdom. He wasn’t worried his cousin would harm her at the house—Jim Ed had more subtlety. Later worried him, the time when no one was around. He needed to find a way to lessen her vulnerability.

Jim Ed turned into his drive, barely slowing, and the car bottomed out on a rut with a grinding protest. Unmarked cars and a couple of Chandler County units fanned out on the yard. Before coming to a complete halt, Jim Ed shoved the gear into park. He jumped out of the vehicle and strode across the yard.

Jason scrambled after him, heart thudding against his ribs, anxiety twisting his gut. The front door opened and Stacy met them on the porch, her face pale.

She reached for her husband’s arm. “Oh, Lord, Jimmy. They’re searching the house. Kathleen Palmer said something about a murder. Why are they here?”

His face set, Jim Ed shook off her hand. “Stay here.”

“But—”

“Stay here.”

Jason followed him into the house. The image of Stacy’s fear-filled blue eyes haunted him. The foyer was empty, but voices echoed from several rooms. He zoned in on Kathleen’s immediately.

“Remember, everything you move gets returned to its proper place. We are not here to demolish someone’s home.”

Jim Ed made an abrupt turn and strode toward the family room on the left end of the house. GBI agents swarmed the large multi-purpose area. Altee and Kathleen stood in the middle and watched the other officers’ every move.

The flush on Jim Ed’s face deepened. “What the hell are you doing in my house?”

Altee handed him a folded paper. “Executing a search warrant.”

“For what?” Jim Ed crumpled the warrant without looking at it.

Kathleen eyed him. “Specifically, the forty-caliber handgun used to murder Heath Brannon, Connor White and an unidentified male whose skeletal remains were discovered in Chandler County.”

“You’re crazy.” Breathing hard, Jim Ed took a step forward. Jason tensed. “You can’t do this. This is
my
house and—”

“Agent Ford.” Kathleen glanced at the clean-cut young man who stepped forward. “Escort Mr. Reese from the premises, please. Make sure he remains outside for the duration.” Her expressionless gaze flickered in Jason’s direction. “Deputy Harding, too.”

Kathleen waited until the three men were out of the room to release a pent-up breath. Looking at Reese’s enraged face, she could all too easily imagine the man doing murder. “He has serious control issues.”

“Tell me about it.” Altee glanced around the large room and pulled Kathleen toward the French doors. They stepped onto the deck. Altee gestured toward the manicured lawn. Nothing disturbed the garden view. No bats, balls or bicycles. Not even a swing set. A lattice fence shielded a dog kennel from sight. “Don’t these people have kids?”

“Four.”

“Something strike you as odd about this place then?”

“Yeah. No clutter.” Not even upstairs in the children’s bedrooms. She’d peeked in earlier, after she and Tick searched the master suite. The magazine-perfect rooms showed no signs of being lived in. All the toys were in place, no shoes or clothing littered the floor. And even though Stacy Reese didn’t work outside the home, Kathleen didn’t see anyone with children being
that
good of a housekeeper.

“Can’t you just see him standing over them, making sure they put everything in the right place?” Altee nudged her shoulder. “Notice he had your boy with him?”

“He’s not my boy.” First, he definitely wasn’t hers. Second, she wouldn’t define anyone who kissed the way he did a
boy
. When she’d touched him, muscles had flexed under warm skin, and the length of his body against hers had been firm and tight. She doubted the guy had an ounce of fat anywhere.

“Hey.” The snapping of Altee’s fingers brought her back to reality. Altee regarded her with a long-suffering expression. “Stop fantasizing and focus on the task at hand.”

Heat flashed up her neck and over her cheeks. “I wasn’t—”

“Lying is a sin, Kath. You had sex written all over your face. So when did you kiss him and not tell me about it?”

“Altee, go search something, would you?”

“Girl, you know what you need to be searching? Your soul, figuring out whether or not you’ve got the objectivity to stay on this case.”

She spun and walked back into the house, leaving Kathleen to stare after her. Kathleen tugged at her hair and closed her eyes, concentrating on taking even breaths to still the sudden panic clutching her chest. Lord help her, Altee was right. The fascination with Jason had gone too far and, if she didn’t get a handle on it quick, threatened to blow a Providence Canyon-sized hole in her career.

She couldn’t let that happen.
Agent
wasn’t just her title. It was the core of her being, who she was, the way she defined herself. She didn’t have anything else. No room for failure existed here.

Taking one last calming breath, she opened her eyes. The only option was not seeing him again, except possibly in cuffs. He refused to walk away from Haynes County and what it represented. He’d chosen the money and family loyalty over her and any possible relationship they might forge. She wasn’t enough. Kathleen smothered the pain that realization sent darting through her chest.

Stop it.
It wasn’t like she’d even known him long. And this wasn’t the first time she’d been found wanting by a man.

But it would be the last. Jason Harding wouldn’t get a second chance to choose.