Hard Case

by Kylie Dodson

  "You made it sound like Driscoll is here," she replied.

  Blake stopped dancing, his shoulders slumped. "Am I ever going to get you in non-cop mode?"

  "What does that mean?"

  Blake smiled and shook his head before pointing out a man at the bar. The gray-haired Nathan Driscoll took two drinks from a bartender with a ponytail, then made his way toward a pair of women who were at least thirty years younger than him. Jennifer figured him for one of those guys who never left his twenties. His hair was about mid-temple and parted down the middle. His goatee was the same color of gray while he maintained a light amount of designer stubble. She probably wouldn’t have even noticed the thin gold chain around his neck if his top button hadn't been unbuttoned. She didn't know what the shirt brand was, or the rest of his suit, but she was certain it came from the same trendy boutique as the other guys in the place. That or one of the more popular online clothing stores.

  "I guess he got back in town earlier than planned," Jennifer said.

  "He's been hitting on girls half his age all night," Blake said, still lightly bouncing with the beat.

  "They look younger than that," Jennifer replied. "Is that all he's done?"

  "I think he got a couple of phone numbers. One from a woman he didn't seem all that interested in. But he's also been slapped once since I've been here."

  "Slapped?" That bit of information clicked on Jennifer's true detective senses.

  "I didn't hear anything, but he must have whispered something real bad, because that girl lit into him. And I'll say this, he wasn't too happy about that result."

  "Retaliation?"

  "No. But he sure looked like he wanted to."

  Jennifer watched Driscoll laughing with the women he bought drinks for. A woman slapped him and he got mad. It wasn't much of a connection to the murders, but it was worth noting. And it made Nathan Driscoll even more worth questioning.

  "How do you want to play this?" Blake asked.

  "We sit back and observe. If we have to question him here, we'll do it. But I don't want to tip my hand early. This will all go better if he doesn't see us coming. I don't want him getting a lawyer involved. If that happens, we'll blow our chance. So, for now, we just watch."

  Blake clapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously. "Great. I have the perfect table reserved for just such an occasion."

  ***

  Jennifer knew Blake was watching her. But even as she stirred a tiger roll in spicy mango sauce she kept her eyes on Driscoll. It was getting increasingly difficult to ignore Blake's disappointment in the lack of attention she was paying to him. But she didn't want to miss any moves. If Driscoll was guilty of the murders, she knew that he would somehow slip up and provide a clue. She'd dealt with enough of his type to know they all slipped up. Even in public. It wouldn’t be something that most people would notice. But Jennifer Case would.

  Blake wiped his mouth after finishing off a spider roll. "So," he drew out. "How did Dubs do?"

  Jennifer's eyes flickered to Blake then right back out to Driscoll.

  Both of Blake's hands drummed to their own beat on the table. "Um, interesting fact, this place used to be a meat-packing plant, turned illegal casino."

  "Uh-huh," Jennifer replied, clearly more interested in what was happening on the dance floor than at the table.

  "Help, Case, I've been shot."

  "What is the appeal of that?" Jennifer pointed at Driscoll and the two girls he was dancing with.

  The construction mogul looked entranced with the two women as they moved their bodies all over his.

  "What, a three-way?" Blake asked.

  "That's not what I--" Jennifer stopped herself.

  "It's a lot of legs."

  That got her attention. She looked at Blake, surprised.

  "What? It happened to me once. Before that, I thought it would be the most amazing thing in the world. And then it happened. Never did that again. Have you ever?"

  Jennifer sat back against her seat, hands up in a halting position. "No. And I don't intend to. I am a one-man gal."

  "Good to know," Blake said. He had tried to play the words off as meaningless, but his own subtle look of shock gave him away. Much to Jennifer's chagrin.

  She was better at covering up her own thoughts than Blake was.

  She turned her attention back to Driscoll.

  "I'm thinking good cop, bad cop," Blake said.

  "For what?"

  "For when we confront the guy."

  "Slow down, Detective Rivers. First of all, there's not going to be any confrontations here. If we have to ask questions we will, but no confrontations." Jennifer turned back to watching Driscoll. "But you're not far off. I'm not going to learn anything sitting here."

  "I thought we were sitting back and waiting."

  "We were." Jennifer stood from the table and smoothed down her dress. "Now I need to get closer."

  "What are you going to do?"

  "Bait the hook."

  She stepped toward the other dancers. The floor was nowhere near as packed as the dance hall next door, which gave Jennifer a clear line to her target.

  She sauntered toward him, a light, fun, but alluring bounce in each step.

  As the two girls took their own steps back, unintentionally giving Jennifer more room and access to Driscoll, she took her position and placed one hand on his shoulder, staking her claim.

  Jennifer didn't even have to look at the other girls to chase them off. The older man's hands went straight to her waist. She may have had a few years on those two, but the look in her eyes told Nathan Driscoll that she was far more experienced.

  She spun around, and leaned her head back on his shoulder. She could feel his breathing quicken as she let his hands slide down her legs, staying over her skirt. It was a cruel ploy as she knew what Driscoll wanted. Her scheme was not in the police handbook. But it was in a far older one. Jennifer knew the kind of man Nathan Driscoll was and she didn't even have to try hard to get him in a position to do whatever she wanted.

  Her gaze met with Blake's as he watched her move. He was entranced and he wasn't even the one dancing with her. Jennifer had no real desire to dance with Driscoll. And certainly none to seduce him. But as she watched Blake watching her, she felt a different desire all together. One which was quickly involving Blake Rivers.

  She smiled seductively at him just before Blake turned away, like a shy little boy who just got caught staring at the girl he liked.

  For a brief moment, her thoughts turned back to the life she could have. She'd spent plenty of time with bad boys. And despite Blake's minor levels of conceit, maybe she could settle down with one of the good guys.

  "You're magnificent," Driscoll whispered in her ear.

  The unexpected voice returned her to her senses and Jennifer brushed away the thoughts that were throwing her off. It wasn't what she meant by 'bait the hook'. She came here to investigate Nathan Driscoll. Not daydream or fantasize about Blake Rivers.

  She pushed away from the construction mogul.

  "Where are you going?" he asked, his voice full of pleading. She'd wound him up a little more than she'd intended.

  "I'm sorry. I have to go." She rushed through the crowd but could still hear Driscoll begging her to stay.

  She made her way to Blake's table, one hand on her head.

  "Wow. Case, you were--"

  "I'm not feeling well. I think I drank too much."

  "You? Too much?" Blake asked. "I think you could outdrink anyone here."

  "I'm going to go."

  "Well, do you need a ride?"

  She avoided looking at him. "I'll get a cab."

  "But I can--"

  "No. I'll...I'll see you tomorrow."

  ***

  Jennifer stepped outside, letting the night air wash over and calm her nerves. It was neither hot nor cold. Just arid wind.

  The bass from the front door was loud and only reminded her of what she'd just left.

 
; Jennifer brusquely made her way to an alley next to the building. It was dark and went against her better judgment but it was the closest comfort.

  She leaned against the wall, not caring if it dirtied her dress. A dress she suddenly felt more vulnerable than confident in.

  Resting the back of her head against the wall, she said, "What was I thinking? Him of all people? How is that even possible?"

  Her eyes closed and she heard only the light voices of those still waiting in line to get inside the club. She wanted to warn them to not go in. That there was a lounge lizard in there. And a...good guy who had shown some concern for her.

  "Where's my money?" a male voice demanded.

  Jennifer opened her eyes but it was too dark to identify who was speaking. Before she knew it, a rough hand slapped across her face, knocking her to the ground. Then the world went black.

  CHAPTER 12

  Jennifer readjusted her sunglasses then shifted in the chair on the other side of Captain McGhee's desk. The chair was uncomfortable, but not because of her injury last night. The cushion of the chair had long since been worn down from use. She might as well have been sitting in a plain wood chair. The department had enough funds to spring for a couple of new office chairs, but she knew from all of her time in that same spot that the captain liked to keep things uncomfortable in his office. It served two purposes. One, it kept his team in line if he needed to reprimand them. Keeping things physically uncomfortable only added to the mental discomfort they felt. Two, it kept visitors that McGhee didn't care much for from overstaying their welcome.

  At that moment, though, it wasn't being used for either purpose. And it wasn't just Jennifer who was attending the morning briefing. Blake stood in the corner, trying to stay out of the way while observing. And Junior Detectives Jamal Snell and Amber Harrison were in on it, too. Amber sat in the chair next to Jennifer while Jamal stood just at her shoulder.

  Jennifer didn't even have to look at Jamal to know he was there. He was by far the largest officer in the department. And his size didn't come from eating cheeseburgers every day. The man was a testament to gym dedication. Six-foot-four, with shoulders broad enough to carry logs on. Jennifer wouldn't think the man needed to carry a firearm. His presence was intimidating enough.

  Amber was a petite ball of energy. The woman was far on the opposite side of Jamal. Short, but slim. Amber was eager to please and even more eager to show her skill behind the badge.

  "I know we worked out a deal so you get to keep working this serial killer thing, Case." Captain McGhee paced behind his desk. "But I need you on something else."

  "You're pulling me off this?" Jennifer asked, her irritation flaring.

  "Don't even start," McGhee responded. "You and I both know something like that isn't some overnight deal. And there's other work to be done. I don't need my people rushing all over the city looking for clues like a scavenger hunt."

  "You said this would be the only case I would work. Captain, whoever did this is going to kill again. They might have already done more."

  "And you'll be there for it. But right now I need you--I need all of you--on this other thing...Case, why do you have sun glasses on inside?"

  "I was wondering the same," Blake said.

  Jennifer sat up, suddenly uncomfortable for other reasons. She adjusted the shades.

  "What, a girl can't make a fashion choice?"

  "How much was it this time?" Jamal asked, his quiet tone belying his size and stature.

  "Trust me," Jennifer started. "I've had far more to drink than what I had last night."

  "Then why the..." Amber finished her question by motioning toward the glasses.

  Jennifer shook her head, not wanting to take the shades off. But even she knew that it wouldn't be long before McGhee made it an order.

  She reached up and grabbed the frames. "It's not that big of a deal."

  The glasses came off and everyone in the room reared back at the bruise around Jennifer's eye.

  "What happened?" Amber asked.

  Jennifer's eyes went up toward the ceiling. "I slipped." It was a clear lie.

  McGhee's arms folded across his chest. "Slipped?"

  "OK, fine." Jennifer said. "I got jumped, last night."

  "Jumped?" Blake was shocked.

  "Who?" Jamal asked, his shirt straining against his broad shoulders as he squared them up, ready to fight.

  "I don't know. It was in an alley and--"

  "Why were you in an alley?" Amber asked.

  "I..." Jennifer trailed off. She didn't want to tell them her reasons for hiding. For trying to get distance between she and Blake Rivers.

  She touched the light brown and purple bruise around her eye. "I thought it would be a shortcut." Her eyes didn't betray her that time. "It was careless of me and...I just let my guard down."

  "That's not like you," Jamal said.

  "Yeah, well, neither is being pulled off a case, so...Besides, what am I being pulled off for?"

  McGhee nodded his head in short, rapid-succession bobs. "OK. But we're not done with this." He pointed at her bruised eye before pulling a photo out of an envelope. He dropped the photo in front of the detectives.

  "Jane Doe?" Jamal asked.

  Jennifer and Blake leaned into the photo. She shook her head, not recognizing the girl in the photo. But Blake quickly snatched the eight-by-ten glossy off the desk and stared at it.

  "I've seen her before," he said.

  "You know this person?" McGhee asked.

  "I don't know her, but this is the same girl from Riptide. Case and I--"

  Jennifer kicked his shin, silencing him. She didn't want any of them knowing that she was at Riptide with Blake last night. That wasn't information they or anyone else needed to know.

  "Were...talking..." Blake said, making up a quick story. "On the phone last night, while I was at Riptide. By myself...Eating sushi--"

  "Mr. Rivers?" McGhee asked, wanting Blake to hurry things along.

  "Yeah, sorry." Blake pointed at the photo. "I saw this girl with Driscoll. He whispered something to him and got a slap in the face for it. Remember, Case, when I told you about that?"

  "That's her?" Jennifer confirmed.

  "It's not every day we get someone in our own house as a witness," Jamal said, referring to Blake.

  "That will make this easier, right?" Amber asked.

  Jennifer ignored the question and turned to Blake. "The last person you saw her with was Nathan Driscoll."

  "Isn't that where the last body was found?" Amber asked. "On a construction site run by Driscoll Construction?"

  "Yeah," Jennifer said.

  "You think this case is related to the serial killer?" Jamal asked.

  "No relation," McGhee said. "There was no riddle where this girl was."

  "Where was she found?" Jennifer asked.

  "A nearby alley just down the street from Riptide."

  Jennifer pondered the information. It was probably even the same alley where she was attacked. That put Nathan Driscoll--in person and in name--in two locations where murder occurred. And that put him at the top of Jennifer's list of suspects. It was possible that Captain McGhee was right and there was no relation between this one and the serial killer. But that wasn’t a chance she was willing to take.

  "Here's what's going to happen," McGhee said. "Case, I want you to go to Riptide and find out what you can." He turned to Amber and Jamal. "You two, I want you to scrub that whole block. Find me something. I got three bodies in less than a week. I don't like those numbers."

  "You got it, Captain," Amber said, rising from her seat.

  She and Jamal made their way out of the office, leaving Jennifer and Blake behind.

  "Mr. Rivers, would you mind?" McGhee motioned toward the door.

  Blake's only reply was to nod and silently follow after Jamal and Amber.

  As the door shut, McGhee looked back at Jennifer. "You really didn't see who attacked you?"

  "It was dark and whoev
er it was took me by surprise. They must have knocked me out with one hit."

  "That all they did?"

  Jennifer didn't like the suggestion. "I'm pretty sure I would know of anything else. Clothes were all in the same place."

  "Personal belongings?"

  "Still mine."

  Captain McGhee stared for a moment, contemplating the information. "That's weird."

  "I can tell you it was a man, asking where his money was. Everything went dark after that."

  "OK...OK." McGhee sat in his chair. "Stay alert, Case. No more alleys at night. And since he was there, last night, take Mr. Rivers to Riptide. Hopefully it's less stressful than climbing up a crane."

  Jennifer forced a compliant smile. Great, she thought. Going back to Riptide with Blake Rivers was the last thing she needed.

  ***

  Jennifer and Blake stood in the alley next to Riptide. She glanced back at the police tape forming an X at the entrance to the alley. There were a couple of people standing around, taking pictures. She was sure there were even more of them last night. Crime scenes were like train wrecks. And everyone wanted to see. But now, they could take all the pictures they wanted. There was no longer anything to look at.

  Not for random passersby, anyway.

  "So, you going to tell me the truth about that dark spot under your glasses?" Blake asked, genuinely concerned.

  "Rivers, if I was going to lie about it, I would have stuck with the 'I slipped' excuse." she said flatly, hoping that her tone would end his course of conversation. "How long did you stay after I left?"

  "I'm not sure. Maybe another hour?"

  "Did you see anything out of the ordinary? Anyone suspicious?"

  "Besides the way you left? No."

  Jennifer nodded her understanding. She probably deserved that. But there was no way she could tell Blake the real reason for her leaving. Even she didn't like the reason. The idea that she took some pleasure in Blake watching her dance had a slight revulsion. Blake was the whole reason her career could be in jeopardy. His articles had Captain McGhee breathing down her neck one too many times.