Tick couldn’t resist the answering grin. While Caitlin could curse with the best of them—more than a decade in law enforcement tended to enhance one’s vocabulary—he was pretty sure those particular words had never left her lips joined together. Her taste in insults ran a little more highbrow. “I think she’s referred to you as a cretin once or twice, though.”
Cookie gave him the finger, and Tick laughed. He set the phone to speaker and returned the receiver before leaning back in his own chair.
“I’m assuming since you have her downstairs that the warrants turned up something.”
“Yeah. She used the computer at Donna Martin’s house, where she’s staying while she’s out of her own place. Tried to play it off, lay the blame on Donna, but Donna was clocked in at the chicken plant and the kids were at a friend’s, so her story doesn’t even begin to hold water. I don’t think she’s gonna be welcome at Donna’s after she makes bail.”
Tick pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s great. Wish she’d thought about that before she did something this stupid. What about her kids?”
“That woman reproduced?”
Tick held up two fingers. “Twice. One from each marriage.”
“That bitch as somebody’s mother is a scary thought.”
“Yeah.” A humorless laugh puffed from his lips. “Try imagining her as the mother of your kid.”
“No thanks.” A grimace twisted Cookie’s mouth. “But it sounds like you’ve been there a time or two in your head.”
“She lied to me about being on the pill back when we were dating. I checked the oldest daughter’s date of birth, just to make sure.”
With the background music provided courtesy of the GBI, Cookie laughed, damn him, deep guffaws that grated on Tick’s already stretched nerves.
“What is so damn funny?”
“The idea of you”—Cookie pointed at him—“married to her.” He gestured toward the hall and the stairs beyond. “She’s the type to smother a guy in his sleep because he told her his steak was underdone. What the hell did you ever see in her?”
“I was a kid. What do you think I saw in her?”
A knowing gleam lit Cookie’s gray eyes. He opened his mouth, and Tick cut him off. “Has she tried making bail?”
Cookie shrugged. “She called Larry over at Quick Bonds, but he hasn’t done anything yet.”
Tick steepled his fingers and tapped them against his mouth. “Wouldn’t mind keeping her here as long as we could. Makes me feel better knowing where she is and that she can’t do anything.”
“I can charge her with assault or making terroristic threats.”
“Yeah?”
“Cussed me out, told me I’d be sorry. Sounds like a threat to me.”
“Me too.” It was a technicality, and Tick struggled with the ethics for all of two seconds. “Charge her. We can drop it later. If Larry’s willing to throw bail on both charges, hold him off as long as you can. I want some time to try to link her to Kelly Coker’s death.”
“Gotcha. Want me to—”
“Agent Ford.” Sara Ford’s deceptively sweet voice cut him off. Tick reached for the receiver.
“It’s Calvert. I need to ask you a couple of questions about Kelly Coker’s autopsy.”
“Okay. Hang on one second while I find the report.” Papers rustled on her end. “Got it. What do you need to know?”
“That skull fracture you mentioned. Could she have bled out from that head injury?”
“I believe so, yes. It’s a radiating fracture, from blunt-force trauma.”
“If she died from the stab wounds, what’s the time frame for her receiving that blow to the head?”
“From the size of the fracture? Thirty minutes to an hour. Any longer and she’d have been unconscious.”
“The brain bleed…would that present as drunkenness?”
“It could. She’d be disoriented, uncoordinated, probably displaying slurred speech.”
Hell, yeah. He scratched notes on the conversation. “You said thirty minutes, maybe an hour?”
“Probably closer to the thirty-minute mark. It depends, but my money would be on a fast bleed.”
He frowned and doodled his name across the bottom of the pad. “Any idea how she got the head injury? I mean, is it from an object striking her or her head hitting a hard surface?”
“I can’t say for sure, Calvert—”
“But you have a theory, Ford. You always do.”
“The fracture is to the back of her skull…like someone slammed her head against a wall or into the floor. Does that help?”
“More than you can imagine.” He tapped his pen on the pad. “Thanks, Ford. I owe you one.”
“You owe me several.”
“Yeah. I’ll make it up to you at some point, I promise. Later.”
“Somehow, I think you’ve made that promise to me in the past. Goodbye, Calvert.”
Replacing the receiver, he went looking for Madeline. He found her in the squad room, typing Nick Hall’s statement. The subdued man sat in the hard wooden chair cater-corner to the desk, responding in a low voice to Madeline’s periodic questions. Tick pulled up a chair at an angle. Madeline cast a quick look in his direction.
“The party then, you said it took place at the home of one Jon Williams?”
“Yes.”
Madeline glanced at Tick again, obviously to see if the name got a reaction. He nodded at her. He knew Jon Williams, they both did—he’d been a year behind Tick in school, had graduated with Madeline—and if Tick remembered him correctly, had been the kind of kid neither of their parents would have wanted them hanging out with. Trouble from the word go.
“So, Kelly, the girl under the house…who invited her?”
Confusion twisting his face, Hall shrugged. “Nobody. It wasn’t that kind of party. People just showed up.”
Tick leaned forward, hands clasped before him in a loose grip. “Did you see her with anyone?”
Hall shook his head. “She stumbled out of the bathroom as I was coming down the hall, ran into my chest and put her arms around me.” He fingered the tattoo on the inside of his wrist. “That’s why I thought she was into us, you know?”
“How long was that before you left?”
“I dunno…maybe five minutes. I grabbed another beer and we left.”
“How long did it take you to get back to your place? The Williams place is out in the country, right?” With each of Tick’s easy questions, Madeline’s fingers clicked over the laptop keys. He was grateful for that, as her transcription allowed him to watch Hall’s face for reaction rather than split his attention taking notes.
“Ten, maybe fifteen minutes.”
Approximately twenty minutes, which fit within Ford’s timeline.
Only they still didn’t know how she’d received the head injury. Or how she’d gotten to that party.
A frown tugging at his brows, Tick met Hall’s miserable gaze. Hell, maybe he should go for broke. “Did you know a girl named Allison Barnett? She might have been going by the last name Turner.”
“No. I don’t remember an Allison anybody.”
Tick didn’t miss Madeline’s did-you-really-think-it-would-be-that-easy look. He lifted his eyebrows in a one-could-hope expression before realization slammed into him. Holy hell, they were using the same nonverbal communication he and Cookie employed. Somewhere along the way, she’d become one of them.
He cleared his throat. “Mr. Hall, we’re charging you in Miss Coker’s death. I’m going to have a deputy escort you downstairs to intake, where you’ll be fingerprinted and booked into custody.”
After he’d called a jailer up to handle the booking and they were alone in the squad room, he expelled a rough sigh. “Damn it.”
Madeline looked up from her laptop. “What?”
“Just facing an ugly fact.” He shoved a hand through his hair.
A small frown drew her brows together. “Which fact is that?”
“The totally shitty one that says we may never be able to tie Allison to Kelly’s death.”
“Well yeah, I know, but it’s not like there was a guest list we can track down.”
“True, but we’re talking about the wicked witch of Chandler County here. Back then, she never went anywhere without her entourage. Ten bucks says either Donna or Stacy was with her. They might be loyal, but they’re not stupid. If they think they might face charges of some sort for withholding information—”
“Donna’s pissed off with her.” A slow grin passed over Tick’s face. “Allison tried to pawn the whole putting-your-name-on-the-Internet thing off on her.”
“Then that’s where we start.” Madeline pushed up from the chair and reached for her jacket. “Because if Donna’s in a mood, she’ll turn on Allison in a heartbeat. Trust me, been there, done that.”
“Tell me something,” Tick said as she shrugged into her coat. “You said they wanted you because you had access to me. What the hell did you get out of the deal?”
She flipped her hair over her collar. “People who didn’t expect more than I could give.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets as they strode out the side door. “It was bad, even before what happened with us, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, but I’m not talking about it with you, Calvert.”
“Never asked you to, Holton. It was one question.”
“That’s usually where it starts.”
He laughed, and for once, the deep rumble didn’t set her hair on end. Once in his truck, she held out a hand. “Let me borrow your cell. I want to call and check on Ash.”
With a frown, he handed it over. “Where’s yours?”
“In my desk. I’m still getting calls from men who want to do more than play footsie with me, remember?”
His mouth tight, he fired the engine. “Yeah. I remember.”
Since he was in the driver’s seat and she didn’t have to worry about it for once, she slumped in the passenger seat and dialed through to the hospital and asked for the nurse’s station on Ash’s floor. Minutes later, she returned Tick’s phone, smiling all the while.
He slanted a grin in her direction. “That looks like good news.”
“He’s out of surgery, and it went well. He’s in recovery, and the nurse said he should be back in his room sometime after lunch. If everything looks good, he can go home tomorrow.”
“That is good news.” The grin continued to flirt about his mouth. “He’s probably going to need someone to, um, take care of him for a couple of days until he’s completely mobile. Monroe, our deputy who had the same surgery, did. You’re not going back to your mama’s yet, right?”
Madeline narrowed her eyes at him, but if he saw, he ignored it. That sounded suspiciously like…matchmaking…which was weird beyond belief.
Lips pursed, she folded her arms and didn’t reply.
“What?” He half-chuckled and lifted his hands from the wheel for a split second. “I just made a suggestion. A pretty damn logical one.”
She hitched one eyebrow.
“You’re telling me you didn’t already think of it?”
“No, I didn’t. I’ve been a little busy, chasing down leads on a twenty-year-old murder case and dealing with the fallout from your crazy ex-girlfriend’s idea of an Internet prank, remember?”
“At least you said ‘ex’ this time,” he muttered.
“I suppose you’re going to tell me Falconetti has waited on your ass hand and foot at some point while you recuperated?”
“I wouldn’t call it ‘hand and foot’, exactly.” He rolled his shoulders. “I had pretty major surgery the day after Lee was born, and she was on her feet before I was. I needed her those first few days at home, believe me.” One corner of his mouth quirked in an affectionate smile. “There’s something about having the woman who loves you take care of you. It’s not the same having someone else do it.”
“I’m not the…” She swallowed, hard, against a sudden lump in her throat, Ash’s quiet “I love you” resounding in her ears. “I’m not the woman who loves him.”
“Really?” Tick looked at her askance. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“We’re friends and we’re dating casually while I’m here. That’s all.”
His disbelieving snort bordered on rude.
“You don’t—”
“Know what I’m talking about, yeah, yeah, sure.” He flicked a dismissive gesture between them and slowed for the turn into the chicken plant’s long drive. “All I’m saying is that since you got here, if you haven’t been working, you’ve pretty much been with him. Since the day he got hurt, if you haven’t been working, you’ve been at the hospital, right at his side. Yeah, that looks like casual dating and friendship to me.”
She opened her mouth on a smart rejoinder, but he stopped at the guard shack, forestalling her. He didn’t know what he was talking about. Love? She didn’t know the first thing about loving someone. She wouldn’t even know where to start.
“Then there was the way you kissed him at Henry’s the other night.” He jockeyed the truck into a visitor’s parking spot.
“Oh my God. So I kissed him. Big fucking deal.” She unsnapped her seatbelt and slung the door open with a little more force than necessary. He really needed to shut up.
“Yeah. You kissed him, all right.” He tucked his hands in his jacket pockets as they strode up the sidewalk. “The way Cait kisses me when we’ve been apart for more than a day.”
She stopped short. “That doesn’t mean anything. None of that means
anything
. I like him. We’re friends. Yes, I kissed him, and yes, I’ve been worried about him but…it doesn’t
mean
anything.”
He halted where he’d continued a few steps ahead of her and simply looked at her, an expression of extreme patience on his face. He didn’t say a word.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” she repeated. When he still didn’t respond, she narrowed her eyes and swept by him. “Oh, shut up.”
His quiet laugh only infuriated her more. She ignored him as he fell into step beside her again. In love with Ash Hardison? Ridiculous. Beyond ridiculous. It was…it was…
Absolutely true?
Tick held the door open for her, and she glared. “You’re insane.”
He shrugged. They crossed the lobby, and he punched the button at the elevator. She gave him an airy look. “You’re crazy, Calvert, I mean it. Absolutely fucking nuts.”
Eyebrows raised, he lifted both hands in a “whatever” gesture. The elevator arrived with a soft ding and inside, she leaned against the opposite wall, arms folded. He laughed and threw out his hands. “What?”
She glowered. “You and this…this…
love
idea of yours. You’re crazy.”
“I think you’ve covered that topic, ad nauseam, Holton.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You think about him at weird times, don’t you? Like in the middle of the day, out of the blue, when you’re supposed to be focused on the job.”
“Uh, no.” She rolled her eyes and waited for lightning to strike her.
He nodded, a slow bob of his chin, a knowing smirk lurking about his mouth. “And of course, you don’t feel like you want to pounce on his ass when you finally do get to see him.”
“That’s just lust.”
“Probably can’t carry on a decent conversation with the guy outside of bed, either.”
Just about books. Or music. Or life experiences and what was important.
God, how slow was this elevator, anyway? They were only going up two floors.
Tick’s smirk widened to a grin. “And he doesn’t make you laugh or just make life a hell of a lot of fun, either.”
“You read women’s magazines, don’t you?”
“No. I wake up every day next to a woman I can’t stop thinking about or keep my hands off of. We talk about everything, she makes me laugh when I don’t want to, and my God, living with her is fun, even when we’re fighting and I can’t win to save my life. The hell of it is, she loves me too, and I thank the good Lord for that every damn day of my life because I came this close”—he held his thumb and forefinger a millimeter apart—“to losing her for good. When you find that, Holton, it’s precious, and you hang on to it. You don’t throw it away, and you sure as hell don’t walk away like it’s nothing.”
The elevator shuddered to a stop. She finally managed to close her mouth as the doors slid open. He wrapped a hand in front of one and caught her gaze, his own dark and serious. “Think about it.”
Think about it? Like he hadn’t completely destroyed her concentration. Like she’d be able to think about anything else.
Tick whistled as they walked down the hallway to the offices. Madeline chewed on the inside of her cheek and tried to ignore his obnoxious ass.
Was that it? Did she love Ash? Surely it couldn’t be that simple. Hell, she’d always envisioned love as this insurmountable expectation, more trouble than it could possibly be worth.
Well, she just wouldn’t think about it now. They had this interview to do, and she’d focus on that. She could think about Tick’s insane ideas later.
What if he was right? What if she did love Ash? That would change everything. She bit her thumbnail, tearing at her skin, welcoming the small pain as a distraction. She couldn’t very well go—
“Holton?” On a weary sigh, Tick propped the office door open with one hip. She caught his eye and flushed, heat flooding her neck and face at the amused gleam in his dark eyes.
Oh, shit damn
fuck
, her focus was gone. She brushed by him. Donna looked up from the files she was putting away. Her gaze tangled with Madeline’s, and her face twisted, annoyance and dislike flaring in her blue eyes. “What do you want?”
Madeline straightened her shoulders but put on a nonthreatening smile. “Just to talk.”
Donna snorted. “We don’t have anything to talk about. There’s no way the
three
of us have anything to discuss.”
“Donna, we need to ask you a few questions. About Kelly Coker.”
With a small shake of her head, Donna rolled her eyes heavenward. “Why would you come asking about…oh.” Her expression shifted and she bit her lip. “The body under Allison’s house? That’s
Kelly
?”
Madeline nodded.
“Oh my God.” Donna felt for the nearest chair and sank into it. “I don’t believe it. I always thought…she said she’d been in Florida and I thought she just went back…”
“She said she’d
been
in Florida?” Intensity hovered in Tick’s voice.
Donna lifted her gaze to his, with a confused nod.
“You saw her after she ran away.” Madeline leaned on the waist-high counter. She didn’t miss Tick’s hey-sometimes-it-is-this-easy expression.
“Yeah. At a party one weekend, about a year after we graduated. Hell, she showed up at my house, looking for Allison. I knew Allison would be at the party, and I told Kelly to come on. Thought it would be like old times.”
“A party at Jon Williams’s house?”
Donna nodded and looked between them, perplexed. “What is this about?”
Madeline sifted a hand through her hair. “You just left her there?”
“No. I went looking for her sometime around one in the morning. I was ready to go, but Allison said she’d already gone.”
“Allison talked to her?” Tick rested his elbows on the counter, his gaze intent on Donna’s face.
“Yeah, I guess you could call it that. Kelly was talking. Allison was yelling and bitching.”
“Do you remember what they were arguing about?” Madeline asked.
Donna gave her a “duh” look. “No. That was twenty years ago almost, and I’d had two or three wine coolers. Besides, you know how Allison was, always going on about something.”
“Yeah,” Madeline said, voice soft. “You actually saw them together?”
“Didn’t I just say that? They were fussing. Kelly got upset and she went in the bathroom. Allison followed her. That’s the last I saw of her. Kelly, I mean.”
The bathroom. Allison followed her in the bathroom, and at some point, Kelly stumbled out and into Nick Hall’s life.
To be savagely murdered within an hour. Except, if Ford was to be believed, she’d already been on her way to bleeding out from a slow brain hemorrhage.
“Thank you for talking to us.” Madeline pushed away from the counter. Catching Tick’s eye, she tilted her head toward the door. “We’ll let you get back to work.”
In the hallway, she punched the elevator call button savagely. “Well, there’s a circumstantial link. We know they were together, in that bathroom, before Kelly stumbled into Nick Hall and he took her home and killed her. You know that’s the best we can do. She’ll get away with it.”
“Maybe.” He pushed a hand through his hair and squinted up at the numbers. “I don’t know what the precedence is. We can’t charge her with murder because she didn’t cause the death, but maybe we could do an aggravated assault charge. Maybe a contributing charge.”
“It’s not good enough.” Madeline stalked into the elevator. “Kelly’s dead, and without adequate medical attention, she’d have died from that head wound. We both know how she got it, even if we can’t prove it. Again, Allison gets away with everything.”
“Maybe not.” Tick rubbed a hand over his jaw. “We’ll run it by the DA, see what he has to say, and go from there.”