by Jane Hinchey
“And before you know it, he’s chewing through our house deposit money to pay her! And she’s telling him all of these conception secrets. Utter nonsense, and for an intelligent man it surprised me he couldn’t see through her. Stuff like, I had to sleep on the left side of the bed. That I had to wear the color purple. That I had to hold my glass in my left hand when drinking. Then it all started to get a bit much. He’s planning my meals, monitoring my diet, where I go, who I see. He’s calling or messaging me constantly. I had to turn my phone off while I was at work because of the constant interruptions. He intruded into every waking moment of my life. So I left. I went home to stay with mom and dad for a while until he could get his head on straight.”
“When was this? How long had he been seeing her before you left?”
“About a month, give or take.”
I thought about what she’d told me. Jacob had started seeing Myra before his wife had left him. Had she known then that she could use him? That he could be of use to her?
“Did you ever go see her with him? Like a couple’s session?”
“Pft. No. Our last fight, before I left, I demanded he not see her anymore, that it was her or me and he said he wouldn’t choose, that Myra gave him guidance and a path. A plan. And his personality dictates that he always has a plan. He needs structure. That’s why I wanted him to see a psychiatrist. Because I know his brain isn’t wired the same as most people’s and we needed a way to make it work, for both of us. Myra convinced him he didn’t need to keep that appointment.”
“Is he violent? Has he ever hurt you?”
Emily’s eyes rounded. “Never! Jacob couldn’t hurt a fly. Like, seriously. He’ll catch them and release them out the window. Jacob doesn’t so much as get angry, he gets… intense. That’s why his behavior reminds me of OCD in some ways. Instead of getting angry, he’ll start obsessively cleaning or rearranging the pantry or the closet.”
“Emily?” Jacob and Galloway appeared. Emily jumped to her feet and rushed into her husband’s arms. “Baby! Are you okay?”
He wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. “I’ve missed you so much.” He whispered.
I crossed to Galloway. “Erm. How did she even know he was here?”
“I may have let him make a phone call. He was convinced he was under arrest.”
“He’s not, is he?”
Galloway shook his head. “Jacob is another of Myra’s victims. While I was interviewing him, Walsh dug through the data forensics unearthed earlier and he found the file on Jacob. Under a code name, of course. But she had him pegged from the first visit, and her plan was nasty. Drive a wedge between Jacob and his wife, because she knew that as soon as Emily got pregnant, Jacob wouldn’t have a reason to see her anymore. She needed to give him a reason. So get rid of the wife. Then Jacob’s obsessive nature would demand that he see her to help him get his wife back, for there was one thing about him that she knew would keep him under her thrall. His love for his wife.”
“That’s so calculated. And mean.” I shuddered. Then a thought popped into my head. “You don’t think Emily…” I trailed off.
“While I couldn’t blame her if she had killed Myra, it wasn’t Emily. She alibied out, she was in the city for a job interview.”
“She was planning on leaving town?” I swiveled to look at the young couple currently entwined in each other's arms.
“Maybe it was too painful for her to stay?” Galloway suggested.
“Maybe.” Watching them now I couldn’t help but smile. Judging by all the touching and goofy expressions, Emily and Jacob were now reconciled. At least something good has come out of this whole sorry situation.
19
Officer Walsh waylaid Galloway before we could leave. I waited for what felt like a hundred hours, sitting on the hard plastic chair in the foyer, the sorry excuse they called coffee in the vending machine doing nothing to keep me awake. I may have been dozing, my chin resting on my chest, a slow pool of drool growing on my T-shirt when two warm hands landed on my knees. I jerked awake, cracking my head against Galloway’s as he crouched in front of me.
“Ow.” I rubbed my forehead and squinted at him.
“This brings back memories.” He too was sporting a red mark on his forehead. “Just don’t move, okay? Last time we bumped heads you almost took me out completely.”
“As if.” It was true, I remembered our meeting, how he’d saved me when I’d stumbled off the curb and into the path of an oncoming bus. He’d pulled me out of harm’s way, but I’d swung around and not only did our heads collide, I’d accidentally hit him in the nuts.
I yawned. “What time is it?”
“Just gone ten. Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“S’kay.” I yawned again. God, I was tired. “You ready now?” We’d taken Galloway’s car, so I was stuck at the station until he was ready to leave. Which was hopefully now? Then I caught the remorseful expression on his face, and my heart sank.
“I’ll get Officer Walsh to drop you home.” He offered.
“Don’t tell me something’s come up?”
He hunched his shoulders. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I patted his knee. “Crime never sleeps, right?” That’s what Ben used to say, and I figured it was a cop thing. Plus, it wasn’t wrong. I glanced over Galloway’s shoulder at Officer Noah Walsh approaching. “Ready, Audrey?” he asked. I consoled myself with the fact that Officer Walsh was an okay guy and I figured Galloway must’ve thought so too, otherwise he’d never have arranged for him to give me a lift.
“Yup.” I tried to stifle another yawn, my eyes watering in protest.
Galloway stood and extended a hand, helping me to my feet. I could practically hear my bones cracking and creaking, protesting each movement. Then I remembered something important. I had now, officially, moved into Ben’s house. And the master bathroom had a bath! With my enthusiasm on the rise, I pictured a hot steaming soak in my immediate future.
Galloway leaned down and planted a kiss on my cheek, taking me by surprise. His lips burned a hot trail from my cheek to my ear, where he whispered, “don’t forget to set the alarm.” Not the sexiest words ever whispered in my ear, but still, his hot breath dancing across my skin had me tingling from head to toe, my previously sluggish body now fully awake and alert.
“Right.” I croaked, then cleared my throat. “Set the alarm.”
I followed Officer Walsh out the door towards his squad car, casting a quick glance back over my shoulder. Galloway stood where I’d left him. Watching. He raised his hand in salute and I smiled, before Officer Walsh distracted me by stopping and I walked straight into him.
“Offf. Sorry.” I staggered back, only just managing to keep my footing.
“You okay?” he asked, holding open the passenger door. God, I’d been so distracted ogling Galloway that I hadn’t even realized we’d reached the patrol car.
“Yeah, sorry again. Occupational hazard with me, I’m afraid.” I slid inside and pulled my seatbelt on.
“Heard you had a bit of trouble at your apartment.” Walsh said as he gunned the engine and nosed the car out of the lot.
“You could say that.” I’d successfully managed to push the whole sorry affair to the back of mind but now it was looming forefront once more and a shiver danced over my skin. At least I’d be safe at Ben’s house, and I’d have him and Thor to watch out for me, not to mention the alarm.
“Detective Galloway asked me to take a look around when I drop you off, make sure everything is secure.”
“Oh. Right. Thank you.”
“All part of the service.”
We spent the rest of the drive in silence, which was fine with me. Pulling up in the driveway, Walsh killed the engine, then preceded me up the path to the front door, helpfully shining his flashlight while I dug out my keys. Pushing open the door with Walsh breathing down my neck, I flicked on the light switch.
“Oh my God!” Thor came tearing toward me,
winding his way in and around my ankles. “Where have you been? Do you know what time it is? Do you? Huh?”
Walsh laughed. “Someone’s happy to see you.”
In imminent danger of tripping over the talkative feline, I leaned down and scooped Thor into my arms. “He thinks he’s in danger of starving.” I replied. “Which isn’t the case, but he does like to let me know that his food bowl is getting to dangerously low levels.”
“You may mock me,” Thor purred as he head bumped my chin, “but it’s true.”
“Just because you can see the bottom of your bowl doesn’t mean you’re starving.”
“I disagree.” Knowing it was useless to argue, and very much aware of Officer Walsh chuckling at our conversation, I quit arguing and scratched behind Thor’s ears, which resulted in louder rumbling accompanied by the biscuiting motion of his paws.
“He likes that.” Walsh commented, reaching out to stroke a hand down Thor’s back.
“You like cats?” I asked, leading the way into the living and kitchen area at the rear of the house.
“Sure. I like most animals.” He crossed to the sliding door that led onto the deck and tested it was locked. “I’ll just take a quick look around and then I’ll get out of your hair.”
“Thanks. For the lift and… well… for everything.”
“All part of the service.” He repeated with a bob of his head as he headed back down the hallway, opening doors and sticking his head inside as he went. Sighing, I lowered Thor to the floor and rearranged the kibble in his bowl into a neat little pile. He pushed my hand out of the way, purring as he ate two whole biscuits before sitting back and licking his lips.
“Really? That’s it. You were apparently starving but two biscuits is enough to hold you?” Rather than answer, he walked away with his tail in the air, jumped onto the sofa and turned in a circle three times before settling in for a nap.
I could hear Walsh moving around upstairs, then the thump of his booted feet on the staircase. I met him at the bottom.
“Everything checks out. I’ll do a walk around outside and then I’ll be off. Lock up behind me, okay?”
“Will do.” I stood in the open doorway, watched as he shone his flashlight around the front garden, beneath bushes and shrubs, before heading down the side of the house. He was thorough, I’d give him that, and I’d much prefer to have him here tonight rather than Mills. Mills probably wouldn’t have checked the house or the garden, he’d have left the engine running and driven away before I’d reached the front door, I was sure of it.
Closing the door now, I turned the lock and rested my forehead against the heavy wood, dragging in a deep breath. Then I remembered. The bath! Brightening, I hurried upstairs, rushed through Ben’s room, keeping my eyes on the bathroom door and refusing to acknowledge I was in Ben’s personal space, trying not to breathe in the scent of him as I practically sprinted past his bed.
I paused on the threshold. I’d never been in Ben’s bathroom before, never had a need to, and I have to admit, it was quite lovely. Masculine, but not overly so. One wall was dark gray tiles in a subtle hexagon pattern, the remaining three walls were the same tile in white. There was a double vanity with two big circular mirrors above each basin, directly opposite the vanity unit was the bath, tucked in between the wall and vanity was the toilet and at the far end a massive shower. I mean, this thing was huge. Six people could fit in it. The shower head was the size of a Frisbee, and I was torn. Bath or shower? Because the shower looked incredibly inviting.
In the end I settled on the bath. Flipping on the taps, I stripped, tossing my yoga pants and T-shirt into the corner and rummaged in the vanity unit for bath products. I couldn’t believe my luck when I pulled out a barely used bottle of Kai Bathing Bubbles. Squirting a liberal portion into the bath, I watched as bubble nirvana ensued.
Steam curled through the air, along with the scent of gardenias. I eyed the bottle before putting it back in the vanity—it had to belong to one of Ben’s ex-girlfriends because I really couldn’t see him soaking in a gardenia-scented bubble bath. But he wasn’t around to ask, he was out searching for runaway ghost Myra Hansen, which meant I had some much needed alone time.
Eying myself critically in one of the round mirrors, I peered at my bruised shoulder and what I could see of my hips. Bruised and battered for sure, but still standing. Kinda my motto. What I wasn’t impressed with were the dark shadows under my eyes. Rubbing my hand on the mirror to wipe away the steam, I peered closely. Yep. A red hot mess Fitz.
“I really need to buy some concealer.” I said to my reflection. She nodded in agreement. Turning my attention back to the bath I was surprised to find it half full already, although the big waterfall spout probably had something to do with the rapid filling ability. I was kicking myself that all the time Ben had lived in this house, I’d had no idea he had such a luxurious bathroom upstairs. Lifting one leg over the side, I carefully eased myself in, sighing in bliss as the warm water surged around me as I lowered my ass into the bubbly goodness.
Leaning back, I left the tap running while I stared up at the ceiling. Do not fall asleep, do not fall asleep, I chanted in my head. Especially with the tap running. The last thing I needed was to flood the bathroom. While the bath continued to fill around me, I thought about Myra’s case. I was convinced her murder was connected to the bank robbery. And I was convinced her boyfriend, Lee, was involved in the robbery. But what I had was no evidence, only my gut instinct, and despite having the ability to talk to ghosts, Myra hadn’t coughed up anything useful and was now MIA.
My mind drifted back to my break in. Had it been Lee or one of his men? A memory flashed behind my eyes, of the figure, dressed all in black, hurrying away as I dangled from the railing. He hadn’t been overly tall. And he’d had a belly. Not the tall, slim builds of the men involved in the holdup. I frowned, squeezing the top of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. The intruder’s clothes had looked oddly bulky, like he’d pulled them on over his day clothes.
I shot up in the bath, water sloshing. “Mills!” Flicking off the tap, I clapped my hands to my cheeks. What if my intruder had been Officer Mills? Oh my God, it all made sense. He’d been hounding me all day, clearly had some beef with me—although I was at a total loss as to what I’d done to warrant such attention. But the intruder had been of similar height and similar build, right down to the gut hanging over his belt. And when I’d called it in, he’d gotten there pretty fast, which again made perfect sense if he was the guilty party. All he had to do was return to his car, strip out of the black sweatpants and hoodie, then pretend he’d just arrived. He’d made sure to touch my stuff without gloves, so if any prints or DNA turned up, he had a reasonable explanation.
“What a weasel.” I reluctantly abandoned my bath, wrapped myself in the robe hanging on the back of the door and headed downstairs for my phone. I had to call Galloway and tell him my suspicions about Mills. I was at the foot of the stairs when I heard a jiggling at the front door. Officer Walsh must be testing I’d actually locked up behind him. Crossing to the door, I flung it open. “Oh good, I’m glad you’re still here, I just remembered something…” I trailed off in horror when I saw who was standing on my doorstep.
20
Clutching the lapels of the bathrobe, I eyed Lee Noble up and down. Dressed in dark jeans and the same black leather jacket I’d seen him in earlier, he blended in perfectly with the night.
“Oh sorry. I thought you were someone else.” I shuffled slightly to put the door between us.
“Yeah? Who? That cop? Nah, he’s long gone.” Lee pushed the door, hard, and I staggered back as he forced his way inside. I closed my eyes on a prayer. Galloway was going to be so pissed at me. Not only didn’t I turn on the alarm—in my defense I was waiting for Ben to return to instruct me on how to do it—but I’d also just opened my door without knowing who was on the other side. I was going to lose PI points over this, I just knew it.
“Oh, by all means, come
on in.” I snapped, swinging the door shut and following him. “What can I do for you, Lee?”
“Drop the case.” He stood next to the dining table, hands on hips, and looked around. “Nice place.” He added.
“Drop the case?” I repeated. “You don’t want me to find out who killed Myra? Your girlfriend.”
“You’re sticking your nose into business that doesn’t concern you. And you know what happens to little girls who stick their noses in?” He cracked his knuckles and took a menacing step toward me. His intimidation game was strong, and I was sorely tempted to take a step back, but then I’d be playing his game, buying into his tactics, and that simply wasn’t how I rolled.
“They solve the crime!” I grinned. He paused, taken aback, then his face darkened. Thor, who until now had been asleep on the sofa, lifted his head. “Cor, this one’s been watching too much Thug Life.” He stretched, then sat. “Are we in trouble here?”
I turned my head slightly, giving Thor an imperceptible nod. I almost sagged in relief when the hackles along his back stood on end. “Right you are.” His British accent thickened with stress it seems. “You need me to call someone? Like last time?”
“Good idea.” I said out the corner of my mouth.
“What’s that?” Lee cupped a hand around his ear. “You say something? Because let me tell you little lady, the words coming out of your mouth right now ain’t music to my ears.”
Like I cared. Sexist pig. All his good little girl and little lady comments grated on my nerves, not to mention using the sheer physical size of a male compared to a female as intimidation. The old, do what I tell you to do or I’ll hurt you. I wondered then if Myra had been a victim of domestic abuse. I didn’t have time to ponder it for long though, seems Lee got tired of me not playing his game. He stormed toward me, and I knew he expected me to cower or run. Instead, I held my ground.
