You Don't Know Jack (29 page)

While I was wishing, I wished this was my manuscript. I supposed it was now part of the crime scene, evidence in the latest murder case. Damn. My career was back to square one. I had to talk Stone into getting that manuscript to me. ASAP. If I could just see the editing Teri had done on it so far maybe it would start me in the right direction.

"Is it a good story, Jack B?" Ida asked, scooting her chair up to mine, reading over my shoulder.

"I'm not sure." I started skimming the pages, speed reading, getting the gist of the story. A chill started in my blood and spread to my bones. It was the same story as Lars' synopsis only with a telling twist.

"Hey, she stole my story," Lars said.

I rolled my eyes. "As though that wouldn't serve you right. But it's not exactly like your unfinished manuscript, is it?"

"Is so."

Not. For one thing, this has an ending.

"Humph."

"What is it, Jack B?" Ida broke into my argument with Lars.

I stretched, feeling the weight of this long day. "I thought this was a rip off of Lars' unfinished manuscript—"

"Deja Vu." Madam Zee clapped her hands. "An eye for an eye."

"Yes, except... there's a difference between Lars' story and this one."

"This one's first person... is that it, dear?" Sophie had moved to my other shoulder. "My Hermie hated first person."

"The difference is that the narrator of this story is the Black Boutonniere Killer."

"Holy Kapole."

"Yes. Lars didn't call the killer that in his manuscript."

"Does that mean something, dear?" Sophie seemed not to have Ida's mental sharpness when it came to connecting dots.

"It does. Either Ruth Lester had inside information on the BBK from a police source or she invented the serial murderer herself."

"Why would she do that?" Ida was frowning so hard it made my face hurt.

"If I'm right, she was out to exact a deadly vengeance on Lars."

"By killing him," Madam Zee said with the certainty of the all-knowing.

"Worse."

"Worse?" Lars moaned. "What could be worse than dead?"

I poked the manuscript. "She intended to murder his lover, hiding the murder among a couple of others so that Lars would appear innocent."

"Then laying a trail of breadcrumbs that would lead the police right back to Lars!" Ida beamed, still sharper than a skewer.

"How come Lars ended up dead and not Bruce?" All three asked at once.

"Yeah," Lars said. "How come I ended up dead and not Bruce?"

I wanted to scream out loud at Lars that he ought to know, but I stopped myself as I realized I'd have to explain to my elderly companions that I was talking to a ghost inside my head. I reeled in my frustration. They'd had enough crazy for one day.

"Obviously something went very wrong," I said, trying to work out the unknown details for myself as well as for them. "Maybe Lars caught Patty at the nightclub stalking Bruce, and he threatened her or something."

"She is a whack-a-doodle!" Ida said.

"Stone and Duke need to see this manuscript," I said, rising to my feet, surprised to find I could actually stand without my knees wobbling.

"Will it clear Apollo, dear?" Sophie looked hopeful, and as bone weary as I felt.

"I believe it will help." But would his good name be restored posthumously? A vibration in my pocket stopped me in my tracks. My cell phone. It was my mom. Apollo!

Death in the house.

Death all around us.

At some point every woman wants to be wanted... just not by the police.

News media gathered outside the Bainbridge Island police headquarters like vultures sniffing a carrion feast. Squad cars dispersed to the Peppered Page bookstores and Patricia Pepper's home. Search warrants awaited a judge's signature. Law enforcement needed to find her, Mirandize her, and bring her in for questioning.

The Golden Oldies and I signed our statements and were free to leave. Madam Zee's Lady Smith, however, remained in custody for purposes of the investigation into Teri Steele's murder; the announcement of her death was being withheld until family could be notified.

Family. The extended victims in every tragedy. Though I didn't know the current dynamics of Teri's family, I could only imagine the heartache Frankie and Eve were feeling over the loss of the older sister who'd raised them.

Dinah would also be upset. This was the sister-in-law she liked. I hadn't even had time to absorb what Teri's death meant to me.

All I could deal with was wanting Peppermint Patty caught and in custody and no longer a threat to me and mine.

"We need to get goin' if were gonna catch that next ferry!" Ida said as the four of us hustled toward the exit, huddled a little closer than earlier in the day — before grappling murder and mayhem.

"Jack..."

My name vibrated into my ears like a lover's secret kiss. My companions and I stopped. Why did only his voice, of all the male voices within my hearing, cause yearnings I wanted no part of? Why did I turn to meet his gaze as though I had no will of my own? Why did the very sight of this man recharge my spent emotions? Electrify my senses?

Stone started toward me, his gaze locked on mine. My pulse skipped. My breath caught. Though I was determined he not know how much I needed him, how much I ached to lose myself in his embrace, I almost ran toward him.

"Jack..." Again the word, whispered this time, held unspoken longing.

I swear I could hear his heartbeat, feel his hunger. I craved his love like Jersey girls crave big hair. My toes curled and my heart hammered. We halted short of touching, though the desire to do that shimmered off both of us. He didn't open his arms for an embrace, and I didn't initiate one. His being scared for me, and my being scared, didn't dissolve the problems between us. It was like being separated by a thin sheet of Plexiglas, all the need in the world couldn't shatter the barrier.

The sex would always be mind-numbingly great, but sizzling hot sex could only sustain a relationship for a while. Not forever. He wanted a forever I couldn't give. Reconnecting would just prolong the heartbreak.

"I can't leave yet," he said, as though apologizing.

I nodded. I understood he had a case to work. It was what I loved about him. His dedication. His perseverance. His focus. His eyes, his tongue, his hands.

"It's okay," I said, pointing to my patiently waiting entourage. "Safety in numbers."

"I want you to stay here until I'm through, but I'm not sure how late that will be and you look exhausted." Was he feeling protective or possessive or both? Whichever, the warmth it roused confused me. Did I want this man or didn't I?

Of course I did, but I couldn't put myself through this again.

"I'm not going home. Apollo..." Tears sprang to my eyes on a rush of emotion and tightened my throat. "He's coming out of the coma. The doctors say he's going to make it."

Stone smiled that crooked, devastating grin. "That's great."

It was beyond great. "As soon as that ferry docks, I'm going straight to the hospital."

His expression sobered. He didn't like the idea, but understood that I'd been detained from being at my BFF's bedside as long as I could tolerate. "Maybe I can wrap this up and go with you."

"I'm heading back to Seattle, too," Duke said, stepping up to join us and placing a proprietary hand on my arm. "Not to worry, bro. I'll chaperone Jack B and her lovely companions."

Stone eyed his brother like an alpha buck sniffing a horny interloper amid his does. He did a complete one-eighty. "I need to discuss some aspects of the case with Jack. She can ride with me."

"Well, then... ladies," Duke said, releasing me and bowing to the Golden Oldies. "Would you take pity on a weary attorney bereft of female companionship?"

Three giggling seniors and the gorgeous attorney headed for the exit. I stared after them, surprised and slightly offended that Duke had relinquished all claim to me so easily. Didn't we have dinner plans? Hadn't he inherited the Maddox protective instinct gene? Could I really have been considering a relationship with a man who wouldn't fight for me?

I almost laughed at the thought. Hell, I'd done it before.

If history repeated itself as claimed, you could bet I'd do it again.

I wasn't sure I liked being that predictable.

Right now, however, I needed to catch that ferry. "Stone, you know you can't leave, and I must."

"Fine. But I'm taking you. No, don't argue. It's a done deal."

"Detective Maddox!" Officer Deadpan hurried toward us. "I'm glad I caught you. The search warrants are here."

Stone looked torn. I read him like a blog. He still wanted to accompany me to the hospital, but more than that he itched to stay and follow through on this investigation which could resolve his Black Boutonniere Killer case. I took the decision out of his hands. "Stay. Find the proof that will clear Apollo of murder charges. Okay?"

"No guarantees." His grin returned for an encore. His eyes full of thank you. It was probably why he loved me. I put his work before my needs. I understood that if he did what he felt he had to do when he felt he had to do it that he would come back to me every time. I want the same sense of personal freedom in a relationship. "Clingy" isn't me.

He touched my face, then said, "How are you going to get back? Duke and your ride left without you."

"Ha. You don't know how long it takes three little old ladies to get loaded into a car." I was already speed dialing Sophie's cell phone. "Wanna bet they're still in the parking lot?"

Armed guards with photos of Patricia Pepper searched each vehicle, as well as foot traffic, loading onto the ferry. The dustup would delay our departure by at least a half an hour, extending wait times for those who relied on the ferry service to and from Seattle and Bainbridge. Crazy wins the day. The price the public paid to ensure a fugitive didn't slip off the island.

Once we parked our cars, Duke insisted on treating us all to coffee and a snack in the ferry café. It was late afternoon, dark outside, the lights inside overly bright. The noise level increased as other travelers trickled into the upper floor. We settled at a window booth with a large table. Duke was scrunched between Ida and Sophie, Madam Zee had the window on our side.

"If that crazy bitch gets on this boat she'll have us to answer to!" Ida said, fearless in spite of our ordeal.

Nonagenarians can be risk-takers. They face death on a daily basis — usually sans the adrenalin rush Ida had today.

"She's not on this ferry," Madam Zee pronounced, her hands in the TV rabbit ears pose. "I do not feel her presence."

Neither did I, and I wasn't psychic or even sort of psychic. Peppermint Patty was insane, not stupid. She wouldn't risk being spotted and arrested. She was island-bound. Hiding somewhere.

"Road blocks are set up at the Agate Pass bridge, too." Duke took a swallow of coffee. "Her best bet for escape would be a private boat."

"I hope the police are checking all the doctors and clinics, dear," Sophie said. "She'd need that wound seen to."

"Doctors are legally bound to report gunshot wounds to the authorities," Duke assured them.

Yeah, I thought, provided she isn't holding some medical personnel at gunpoint. I decided not to throw that into the mix, and as they chattered on, my mind drifted. I needed to phone Dinah. I hated to intrude on someone in the throes of losing a sister-in-law, but since she was also juggling the fear that her husband was cheating on her, I felt obligated to relieve her of that bit of stress. Knowing Dinah, though, she might prefer it was a woman taking his focus off learning the nightclub business.

I hated ratting him out. I understood why Frankie kept his writing secret. My family hounded me to get a "real" job. It was the bane of most aspiring writers' existence. Not that we had anything against working, but the suggestion that writing isn't work. It's damned hard work. Often for little financial gain.

I excused myself and carried my coffee outside, happy to find myself alone. Everyone else had the good sense to stay indoors, but I relished the privacy and the cold bracing air. I strode out of sight of the windows and placed the call to Dinah. It wasn't a message I would usually leave on voice mail, but seemed appropriate this one time. I offered my condolences about Teri, told her Frankie wasn't cheating on her, and that we could discuss that further whenever she wanted.

A call clicked in as I was about to disconnect. Stone. I said, "Have you caught her?"

"Not yet. I'm at her office in the bookstore. I can't give you details, but what we found turns this case upside down."

"You can't tell me that and then not give me any hint what you're talking about."

"Okay," he said after a moment. "Some correspondence was sent from her work computer signed as Ruth Lester."

I rocked back on my heels. "So, she is Ruth Lester, then?"

"I'd put my money there."

"Then I'm right about her killing Lars for revenge and Teri for knowing who she was?"