by Karen Rose
‘Will do,’ Zimmerman said. ‘I’m leaving the jail now.’
‘Thanks,’ Kate said. ‘I’m going to try again for the dealer’s name. Wish me luck.’
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Thursday 13 August, 7.05 P.M.
He pulled into his driveway, satisfied when he smelled barbecuing steak on the air. Mallory had become a very competent cook and housekeeper, timing their meals just right, especially when he remembered to call her on his way home.
But his satisfaction took a sharp nosedive when the back door opened and JJ came out to stand on the back porch, a frown on her face. She crossed her arms over her chest as she waited for him to put the top up on his car.
He took his time, knowing she was growing more impatient by the second. Which serves her right. She shouldn’t be here. He hadn’t invited her, and the fact that she’d just shown up made him angry. But he schooled his features to be blandly confused as he turned to look up at her.
‘JJ? What’s wrong?’
‘That girl,’ JJ said stonily. ‘She won’t let me in the kitchen.’
Propping his foot on the bottom step, he studied JJ’s face. ‘I wasn’t expecting you tonight.’
JJ’s mouth tightened. ‘I brought ingredients to make you dinner. I thought after today . . . well, maybe you’d need something special.’
After today. She’d done him a favor by telling him that Davenport had survived so that he could take care of Eileen Wilkins, and now she expected him to take their relationship to the next level. She’d never made such a presumption before.
Then again, she’d never given him information before that led directly to the death of another human being. And once Eileen’s body was found, she’d demand even more because she’d have something real on him then. I don’t think so.
He injected a chill into his tone. ‘I did want something special. The steak that Mallory’s making for me.’
JJ’s eyes grew abruptly shiny, something else that was new. She wasn’t a crier. Never had been before, anyway. So either something had changed or she was attempting to manipulate him. Her lips twisted into something between a pout and a sneer. ‘If you had a real wife, you wouldn’t need Mallory anymore.’
Mallory’s presence drove JJ crazy, because JJ had wanted to be his number one woman from the start. She wanted Mallory gone. She’d never actually come out and said it, but recently she’d been hinting heavily.
Which meant that JJ was coming close to her expiration date as a lover. But not today. Not so soon after Eileen’s very obvious execution. He’d string her along a little longer, making her think she was getting what she wanted. Then he’d end her.
He frowned at her, projecting confusion. ‘I’m married, JJ. I’ve never made a secret of that.’
She rolled her eyes dismissively. ‘Roxy is a joke. You could divorce her like that’ – she snapped her fingers – ‘and no court would even blink. You probably wouldn’t even owe any alimony.’
He would not have divorced Roxy even if she hadn’t been dying. Roxy had been incredibly useful in her role as his wife, doing as she was told, asking no questions.
He morphed his feigned confusion into quiet outrage. ‘She is my wife, JJ. I won’t be divorcing her. Not when she needs me most. She’s dying.’
JJ flinched, then blinked, sending several tears down her cheeks. ‘You said you loved me.’
No, he hadn’t. He hadn’t even said he wanted her. He’d said he needed her, which was true. And he needed her to hang with him for a few more days before she disappeared. Just until Eileen and poor Roy became old news.
‘And I meant every word I said,’ he told her soothingly. ‘But what kind of man would I be if I put poor Roxy out with nowhere to go? Who would take care of her?’ He watched uncertainty flicker in her eyes. Good. He’d hit a nerve. But it wasn’t that big an accomplishment. Using the concept of ‘care’ to reach a nurse was pretty basic stuff. ‘Mallory is here to see to her needs. There’s no need to be jealous of the girl.’
More uncertainty played across JJ’s face. ‘But why? Why keep Roxy here? She could be getting help in a rehab center. They’re trained for such things.’
Because Roxy was way too far gone for that. ‘Because the last time I tried, she had a nervous breakdown.’ So totally a lie. He’d never tried. There was nothing in it for him. ‘She’s not going to get better. The best I can do is keep her comfortable until she’s . . . gone.’
JJ pulled her arms tighter across her chest and looked away. ‘How am I supposed to be angry at that?’ she asked softly but bitterly.
‘It’s my life, hon,’ he said with a sigh. ‘I told you that from the beginning.’
‘Yeah, you did.’ Her throat worked as she tried to swallow what looked like more tears. ‘What about dinner? I was going to cook for you.’
‘I can see if Mallory can throw another steak on the grill.’
Her jaw tightened, and she muttered under her breath, ‘She’ll probably spit on my food.’
He pretended not to hear, leaning forward, his ear tilted toward her. ‘What was that?’ he asked, biting back a snort of laughter. Mallory just might, because the girl didn’t like JJ either.
‘Nothing.’ JJ stood still for the better part of a minute, then turned back to face him, eyes wounded. ‘If Mallory makes dinner tonight, will you come to my place tomorrow and let me cook the meal I planned for you?’
It was a fair request, and the best way to handle her at the moment was to let her have her way. ‘Of course. I’ll bring the wine.’ He climbed the stairs and gently pushed by her, quelling the desire to grab her by the throat and squeeze until she was no longer a distraction. Or a threat.
Mallory was standing at the sink washing strawberries. She glanced over her shoulder when he came in. ‘I can put another steak on,’ she said, her tone flat. ‘And I won’t spit in her food.’
Chuckling, he closed the back door, effectively shutting JJ out of the conversation. Through the window he could see the nurse’s back go ramrod straight and knew he’d angered her again. But she’d behave. For now.
He went to the sink and slid his arms around Mallory’s waist, the stiffening of her back a clear sign that she abhorred his touch. Which of course made her that much more enticing. ‘You can spit in her food if you want to,’ he murmured. ‘She won’t bother you, I promise.’
Mallory’s hands stilled. She had such pretty hands. Long and elegant. They looked so good touching him. He loved to make her touch him. Loved that she hated it. Loved that she didn’t have any choice – and that she knew it.
‘That’s okay,’ she murmured. ‘She hates me enough already. I think I’ll pass.’
There was something in her voice that made him frown. He’d find out what was wrong in a minute. After he found out how JJ had gotten in the house to begin with. He leaned in, his lips nuzzling her neck, bared by her ponytail. ‘Why did you let her in?’
She resumed washing the strawberries. ‘I didn’t,’ she said tersely. ‘She had a key.’
He froze. ‘What?’
‘She. Had. A. Key,’ Mallory enunciated, even more tersely.
He straightened abruptly. ‘Where the hell did she get a key?’
‘I don’t know. I didn’t ask. She wouldn’t have told me anyway.’
There was a great deal more. He could see it in the taut line of Mallory’s jaw. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’ He closed a hand over her throat and squeezed, just enough to show her that he meant business. ‘What happened?’
Mallory’s hands stilled again, her eyes lifting to stare sightlessly at the wall above the sink. ‘I was upstairs, changing Roxy’s sheets,’ she said, her voice devoid of any emotion whatsoever. ‘I came downstairs and saw JJ trying to get into the basement.’
He released her throat and drew a deep br
eath, counting to ten to control the surge of fury. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘You were already on your way home. Plus I was a little busy.’
‘Doing?’ he prompted.
She pointed to a raw steak on the countertop. ‘Putting that on my face.’
He twisted to see the other side of her face. ‘Fucking bitch,’ he hissed. It was already swollen, turning black and blue. ‘She did that to you?’
‘She did,’ Mallory said flatly. ‘When I told her to leave or I’d call you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get your steak off the grill or it will burn.’ She pushed against his chest with her shoulders and he took a step back, silently giving way. She grabbed the steak she’d used on her face and put it on a plate before closing the kitchen door behind her.
Through the window he saw her move past JJ without a look or a word. Then he realized that Mallory was going to cook the used steak for JJ’s dinner. It was funny – unless she’d ever done the same thing to him. But she wouldn’t dare. Mallory knew her place. JJ obviously did not.
So JJ has a key to my house. He wondered where she’d gotten it. Wondered who else had one. It didn’t really matter, because he’d re-key the locks himself and reset all his alarm codes. JJ wouldn’t be able to get in ever again anyway, because she wasn’t leaving here alive.
He’d just changed his mind about keeping her around for another few days. She’d tried to get into the basement. She knew that was where he kept his stash. She knew he sold drugs and she’d been okay with it because he’d supplied her in exchange for information. Especially for information on ODs that came through County’s ER. Some of which would need not to survive. Just in case they were persuaded to roll on their dealer.
So she knew he sold. She didn’t know he was the Professor. Or does she? He was positive she didn’t know about the porn, because she’d have turned him in already.
JJ was an addict, but she had her standards, and kiddie porn was not okay in her book. But if she knew that he was the Professor? That would be bad. However, he wasn’t going to borrow trouble. It was entirely possible that she just wanted more of the drugs he supplied for her services. It was possible she felt he owed her an extra hit for the info she’d provided today. It was also possible that she felt she was entitled, since she was moving herself up from lover to potential new wife – not that that was going to happen, ever.
He’d get the truth out of her, one way or another. He opened the back door, found her still standing where he’d left her on the stoop, back turned and arms crossed. ‘JJ,’ he said, making his tone apologetic, ‘come inside and have a drink. Let Mallory wait on you tonight. You’ve earned it.’
She turned and looked at him, narrowing her eyes. ‘She tried to hit me earlier.’
He frowned, once again feigning confusion. ‘That doesn’t sound like Mallory. Are you sure?’
JJ’s spine straightened, outrage on her face. ‘Yes, I’m sure. I knocked on the door with my hands filled with grocery bags and she was rude. Didn’t offer to help me with the bags or anything. Told me I wasn’t allowed in. She tried to shove me out, so I pushed past her and she slapped me.’ She let out a breath. ‘I slapped her back. I won’t stay if she’s here.’
She was lying. He could see it in her eyes. Bitch. ‘I’ll send her to her room then,’ he promised. ‘It’ll be just the two of us. I’ll open a bottle of wine, the kind you like.’
She looked like she was debating whether to come back inside or not. He hoped she didn’t turn for her car, because he’d have to drag her back and he didn’t want to get all hot and sweaty. It would be a lot easier to drag her through an air-conditioned house.
‘Please?’ he added in a gentle tone. When she finally nodded and came inside, he pointed to the living room. ‘Go and put your feet up,’ he said. ‘You’ve had a hard day.’
She paused, her lips bent in a frown. ‘You’ll punish her for being rude to me?’
He wanted to roll his eyes, but refrained. ‘Absolutely,’ he promised. He watched her take a seat, stiffly. ‘I’ll be just a minute. Let me get a bottle of wine from the cellar for dinner.’
He made a show of unlocking the door to the basement, purposely leaving it open and the key in the lock to see what she’d do. He went down the stairs, bypassing his lab and going on to the wine cellar. Quickly choosing a bottle of wine, he waited at the base of the stairs, listening for the jingle of keys.
He heard it – but just barely. JJ was good. Very light-fingered. Too bad he had to kill her. She was probably making a clay impression of his key. He’d find out soon enough.
She’d be busy for at least another minute, so he let himself into his lab, locking the door behind him, and took a single dose of GHB from his storeroom. Locking everything up again, he went back to the stairs and made a noise as he started up, giving her time to return to her chair.
Cincinnati, Ohio,
Thursday 13 August, 7.25 P.M.
Kate had to fight the compulsion to run down to the morgue so that she could supervise the search of Sidney’s knapsack for the victim’s magic spy pen. It was silly, of course. Vince Tanaka, the CSI guy, was perfectly capable of searching a knapsack, documenting as he went.
Plus Zimmerman would be there and Kate trusted him. She did. Mostly. She didn’t distrust him. But in reality, she only really trusted herself. And Deacon Novak.
And Decker, of course. The very certainty of the thought made her pause, her hand on the doorknob to Sidney Siler’s apartment, where the victim’s devastated parents and terrified roommate were waiting for her to return. Of course? It shouldn’t be an ‘of course’. Not yet. But it was.
She poked at it a little in her mind, turning it over and examining the thought from all angles, and came out in the same place. Yes. I trust Decker too. Why she did, she wasn’t entirely sure. There was . . . something. Something about him.
Maybe it was his eyes. Or the way he’d bared his soul sharing about his sister.
Or maybe it was just him.
Oh. She had to draw a deep breath and consciously hold herself rigidly upright because her knees had just seriously wobbled. She’d felt this way once before, and while it hadn’t scared her then, it sure as hell scared her now. She’d trusted Johnnie the first time she’d met his eyes. The first time he’d smiled at her. She’d trusted him with her life. Her heart.
But Johnnie was gone, and he wasn’t ever coming back. And now there’s Decker. That she trusted him this fast might be a problem.
Or it could be a gift. The whisper in her mind was deep and sweet and made her heart hurt. Johnnie hadn’t wanted her to be alone. He hadn’t wanted her to be afraid. He hadn’t wanted her to stop living just because he no longer did.
He wouldn’t have wanted Jack to do what he’d done either, but that was water under the bridge now. And a nightmare that didn’t want to fade.
A gift, Kate. This time the whisper in her mind made her smile. Okay. I’ll think about it.
Later. She’d have time to explore the trust – and the attraction – after they closed this case. Which was waiting on the other side of the door. She pushed away the sentimentality and girded herself in the psychological armor that had earned her the nickname of the Kate-inator during her army tours. Or the Frigidaire or Ice Queen. Or the Bitch. It was all the same, really.
She opened the door and gave the officer a nod. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘I’ll be outside if you need me,’ he said and closed the door behind him.
Chelsea stood, pale and trembling, in the exact spot in which Kate had left her. ‘Please remain where you are, Miss Emory.’ She met the ravaged faces of Sidney’s parents. ‘Some of what I need to ask Chelsea will be hard for you to listen to. I can get you an escort to the morgue if you’d like. Or you can wait for me, and I’ll take you myself.’
Mr S
iler nodded heavily. ‘We’ll wait. We need to know.’
‘All right.’ Kate pulled two chairs over to where Chelsea stood. ‘Have a seat.’
Visibly shaking, the young woman obeyed.
‘Okay,’ Kate said after she’d sat down too. ‘We were talking about Sidney’s dealer. Allow me to connect some dots for you. Sidney went to the jail to interview an accused human trafficker, posing as a lawyer’s assistant, using a fake name and a fake ID.’ She heard the parents gasp and flicked a glance their way. Both were shocked, their expressions a twin study of desperate disbelief. But they didn’t say a word. Chelsea, on the other hand, looked ill, but there was not a trace of skepticism in her eyes. ‘You’re not surprised, Chelsea.’
‘No. Sid was single-minded in her focus. “Publish or perish”.’ She used air quotes. ‘She wanted her name in print. She was willing to break rules to get that or whatever she wanted. I’ve known Sid since we were freshmen. She didn’t blink at using a fake ID to drink before she was twenty-one. I’m sorry,’ she said to Sidney’s parents. ‘I know that’s not what you wanted to hear.’
Mrs Siler’s sigh was one of the heaviest Kate had ever heard. ‘If only that were the worst of her problems. But I know drinking was the least of it. We saw a change in Sidney after her first semester away from home. I tried to tell myself it was part of growing up, but on some level I knew she was using. I didn’t want to admit it.’
Mr Siler stared at his wife in wounded shock. ‘Ruth?’
Mrs Siler squeezed her husband’s hand, suddenly the strong one. ‘Please, Agent Coppola. Go on. We want whoever murdered our daughter to be punished. Just because she used drugs didn’t mean she should have been killed.’
‘I agree,’ Kate said quietly and turned back to Chelsea. ‘So Sidney left the jail and only a few hours later she’s dead. Poisoned. And not even twelve hours after that, the trafficker she spoke to is dead. Poisoned with the same stuff. Now, Chelsea, where were you last night?’
Chelsea’s eyes popped open. ‘Me? I was in the library with my study group. At least four other people were with me and I’m sure I’m on the cameras somewhere.’
