Hart, Catherine

by Impulsive

  "We've already obtained his address and gone to his house, but it's locked up tight with no sign of the man. He didn't show up at his office at the stadium today, either, but we'll keep trying. He's bound to pop up sooner or later, and we definitely want to talk to him. Meanwhile, here's my card with my direct number. If either of you spot him before we do, give me a call."

  Jess made it to the team practice the next day. Ty went along, but would be sitting this one out, as well as those scheduled for the rest of the week. Whether he'd be well enough to play in their game Sunday in Miami was yet to be determined.

  Since she preferred to wait until the other players cleared out of the locker room, leaving her privacy in which to don her shoes and jersey, Jess was the last one out on the field.

  "Okay, you bunch of sissies, hitch up your jock straps, and let's get this show on the road," Danvers commanded gruffly.

  "Hey, Jess! You wearin' your jock strap?" one of the guys called out jokingly.

  "And your protective cup?" another player added with a snicker. "According to the rules, you've got to be wearing all the required safety equipment, you know."

  Jess was used to their ribbing by now, and usually gave as good as she got. Today was no exception. She thrust out her chest and replied with a superior sneer. "I'm wearing two of them, hotshot. Right here in my double-barrel 'jockette' strap."

  "Aye, chihuahua!" Chili hooted with glee. "Guess the chica told you!"

  "And I'm telling you clowns to get with the program! Now!" Danvers yelled, though he, too, was grinning and shaking his head at her quick comeback.

  The practice was long and tiring, and even within the controlled atmosphere of the dome, they trooped off the field afterward dripping with sweat. In reverse procedure, Jess got the locker room first following the practice, since unlike the guys, she simply changed into street clothes and shoes and went home to shower. Normally fast about it, this time she was even quicker, and she reemerged still wearing her uniform. Her face, glowing with color mere seconds before, was now pasty.

  "What gives?" Ty inquired hastily.

  "There's a note taped to the outside of my locker," she replied, her voice trembling slightly. "Another warning."

  Ty dashed inside, his teammates and coach on his heels. He was back in a flash, the note in his hand, followed by Danvers.

  "What's going on?" the coach asked. "Ty says this is the second threat you've received in a couple of days."

  Jess nodded. "Yeah, and it's already getting tiresome."

  Danvers frowned, repeating the words on the note. " 'Keep talking to the police, and you're gonna get yours, bitch' is more than tiresome, Jess. And what's this about the police?"

  Ty filled him in on all that had happened Monday, adding, "Didn't the police say anything to you when they were here yesterday looking for Doc Johnson?"

  "Not much. I guess they're playing their cards pretty close to the vest. They just asked for Doc's home address and told me they needed to talk to him. I thought maybe it was about Gabe."

  "That, too, and a lot more," Ty said. "Look, Coach, I don't know how much Detective Haggardy wants revealed at this point, so I can't say anything else."

  "Okay, but if there's any way I can help, just holler. I can't have many more key players keeling over and getting threats like this, or pretty soon I won't have enough to make a decent team. We're already using several of the second-string guys to fill in the gaps." He pointed toward the note, still in Ty's hand. "And I don't care what that thing says, go directly to this Detective Haggardy and hand it over to him. Maybe they can get a good fingerprint off of it, or something, if you haven't already mucked 'em all up."

  They stopped by the condo long enough for Jess to get cleaned up, then went straight to the police department. Haggardy, looking as haggard as his name implied, wasn't particularly surprised to see them. "Don't be shocked if we don't get any prints off this thing," he told them as he accepted the note. "If this is Johnson's doing, he probably wore rubber gloves."

  It wasn't three hours later, when Haggardy phoned them at Ty's. "Thought I'd let you know the note was clean, just as I suspected. But if Johnson left it, I'll eat my socks. A couple of our officers went by his house again late this afternoon, and found the place still locked up. But his next door neighbor, a sweet, nosy, little old biddy, cornered them before they could leave. She complained about this noise, like a car motor running, coming from Johnson's garage. Said it started shortly after midnight and went on for hours. Kept her awake most of the night. That was enough for the officers to initiate an immediate investigation, and they found the good doctor behind the wheel, dead as a doornail. As things stand right now, it looks to be carbon monoxide poisoning."

  "He committed suicide?" Ty exclaimed incredulously.

  "I didn't say that," Haggardy clarified. "Could be he did, or could be someone helped him along." He switched swiftly to a related topic. "Here's another thing you might find of interest. That missing duffel bag of Rome's was in the trunk of Johnson's car, along with that bottle of green foot gunk. We've sent it off to the lab, to see if they can find any arsenic in it."

  "That was convenient," Ty mused.

  "Yeah, I thought so. Too damned tidy, if you ask me. Like maybe somebody else is in on this and setting Johnson up as the fall guy. Could be Johnson had a partner or partners in crime. That would be one way to explain Miss Myers getting that note after the doctor's demise."

  "So it's not resolved yet, even with Johnson out of the picture," Ty surmised.

  "I'd say not. We'll know more following the pathologist's report. Meanwhile, watch your back, James. I'm pretty sure your little cutie pie isn't involved in this, except perhaps as a future victim, but I've had investigations take stranger twists."

  "What's with you, Haggardy? First you blow hot, and then cold. Pick one and stick with it, will you? Furthermore, Jess is no more guilty than Corey is. I'd stake my life on that."

  "That's what I'm saying, super jock. It's your neck."

  Jess was appalled, and livid, when Ty related what Haggardy had said. "Why, that pompous, overblown excuse for a detective!" she ranted. "I suppose he thinks I left myself that recorded message, and wrote the note myself. And just how long am I supposed to have been in cahoots with Doc Johnson, pray tell?"

  "Now, Jess, calm down," Ty advised. "I know you're not involved in any of this, but if Haggardy wants to think so, let him. Perhaps with him keeping an eye on you, you'll be all the more safe from the real culprit, and that suits me just fine."

  Jess planted her hands on her hips and glowered at him. "Well!" she huffed. "Isn't that dandy! So what does that make me, other than a sitting duck?"

  Ty frowned. "I hadn't thought of it in that light, but I'm sure Haggardy has other suspects he'll be investigating as well. I simply meant that—"

  "I know what you meant, Ty, and I appreciate your vote of confidence. But I don't like being left hanging out to dry."

  "You won't be, love. I'll be looking out for you, too."

  Jess sighed. "That's good to hear. You guard my back, and I'll guard yours, and maybe we'll both come away relatively unscathed."

  After a moment, Ty ventured, "You know, perhaps you should take your godfather's advice and quit the team, at least until this guy is caught. You could go visit your mom for a while."

  "I've thought about it," she surprised him by admitting. "But I can't let this maniac rule my life, and I can't let him get away with murder. I'm convinced he—or they, or whoever—is responsible for Alan's death, and probably Ervin's, too. Not to mention poisoning Gabe and attacking you. Yes, I'm scared, but the more I consider it, the more I think our perpetrator might be equally afraid of me."

  "Afraid of you?" Ty repeated, his brow furrowing. "Care to expound on that?"

  "Look at it this way. Did he warn his other victims? Alan? Gabe? You?"

  "No."

  "But he is warning me away, for some reason. Perhaps he just doesn't like killing women, which w
ould be a definite plus for me. Or, maybe my basic threat to him is not that I've joined up as the team kicker, but that I'm a reporter. He wants me out of his arena, so to speak. Away from the action, before I can discover who he is or catch on to his next devious move."

  "That certainly puts a different slant on things, doesn't it?" Ty commented thoughtfully. "I don't know, though. It's plausible, but adding that ingredient to the mix only complicates the whole mess even more. Rather like pouring mud into murky water. The more you add, the less is clear."

  Jess shrugged. "It goes that way sometimes. You're cruising along in one direction, turn a corner, and suddenly you're viewing everything from an entirely different perspective. That's what makes investigative reporting so intriguing. Unraveling the mystery, rooting out the rotten apple from the rest of the bushel."

  "Yes, but this time you're right in the thick of it," Ty pointed out. "Just one little myopic caterpillar in a whole can of look-alike worms."

  Jess got another anonymous warning on Thursday, this time on Ty's answering machine. Again, the theme was the same. "Look out, girlie. Your turn is coming."

  "How did he get this number?" Ty wondered angrily. "Damn it all! After the hassle with those reporters, and getting my number changed, now this!"

  "I got mine changed then, too," Jess reminded him, "and he still got through somehow. Which leads me to believe it's someone we know, somebody we think we can trust." She arched a brow at him. "Someone on the team?"

  "Or who is close to a member of the team, perhaps," Ty contributed. "Anyone with access to a player's personal phone directory. Hell, Jess! We're still talking about hundreds of prospects."

  "What about a former teammate, one who didn't make the cut? In all likelihood, he could still be in contact with a current player, and might have a vendetta against any number of guys who did make the team."

  Ty considered this. "That has possibilities. We'll mention it to Haggardy."

  "You mention it to him," Jess groused. "He's still on my shit list, just as I'm certainly still on his."

  When the team flew to Florida early Saturday, Ty was with them, insisting he was well enough to play in the Sunday afternoon bout against the Dolphins. Regardless, he wasn't about to let Jess go without him, even if Danvers decided not to put him in the game. When they landed in Miami, instead of boarding the shuttle buses with their teammates, Ty led Jess directly to the rental desk, where he picked up the keys to a car already reserved for them. She was all the more confused when Ty drove off in the opposite direction of the hotel where they and the team were registered.

  "Where are we going?" she asked, when he failed to volunteer the information.

  "It's a surprise."

  "Can't you give me a hint?"

  With an enigmatic smile, he sang the first few lines of an old song about flying to the moon and playing among the stars.

  "That's it? That's my hint?"

  He nodded, still humming the tune.

  Jess frowned. "We're not heading toward Cape Kennedy, so I guess a rocket launch is out. Stars. Stars," she mused. "Are we going to one of those trendy restaurants owned by a group of actors or something?"

  "And have you drooling over a bunch of macho celebrities? No way. Tonight is just for you and me, babe."

  "Good, because if you started panting over a pair of silicone boobs with a fake tan, I'd be heartily tempted to give you a swift kick in the butt."

  He slanted her an amused look. "Is that any way to talk to a man recovering from a concussion? What happened to all that sweetness and sympathy you've been oozing for the past week?"

  "I'm oozed out. Give me another hint."

  "A trip to the moon on gossamer wings," he crooned cryptically.

  "There's that moon thing again. Is there a launch tonight? Is it possible to see one from this far away?"

  "I think so, but you're way off base."

  "And you're off-key."

  They were headed toward the bay, but aside from that Jess had no idea what Ty had up his sleeve. She was thoroughly puzzled when he turned onto a private drive and stopped in front of a wrought iron gate. Reaching out, he pressed the call button on an intercom atop a stone pillar, gave his name, and the gates swung open.

  "Ty? If we're visiting someone, you could at least have given me fair warning, so I could comb my hair and change out of these jeans into something nicer. I'm travel-worn, to put it mildly."

  "Don't fuss, Jess. You're fine."

  At the end of the mile-long driveway—surrounded by lawn so perfectly manicured Jess wondered if it was artificial turf, and enough statuary to fill a museum—they pulled up in front of a home so magnificent it nearly robbed her of her breath.

  "Oh, wow! Is this a house, a hotel, or the state capitol building?" she exclaimed in awe.

  Ty laughed. "It's a home, albeit a rather large and extravagant one."

  "So, what are we doing here?"

  "Staying for the weekend."

  "With whom?"

  "I told you before, love. Just you and me."

  Jess was flabbergasted. "But... how? Who? Why?"

  "The house is for sale, and I managed to rent it for a couple of days so we could be totally alone."

  "Twenty people could be alone in this place," she marveled. "It's huge! We'll rattle around in it like a pair of marbles in a shoebox."

  Ty grinned. "No, more like two very pampered minks in a gilded garden."

  Whistling merrily, this time to the tune of "Muskrat Love," he rounded the car, opened her door, and held his arm out for her. "Madam, welcome to paradise, a la Miami."

  CHAPTER 24

  How anyone could call this place a house was beyond Jess. It qualified hands down as a mansion, if not a small palace. The foyer alone, with its gleaming Italian marble floor, was two-thirds the size of her apartment. The living room, or great room, or whatever it was termed, was mammoth by anyone's standards. White stucco walls, a multitude of windows, and an inlaid-mosaic hardwood floor were just the beginning. The ceiling rose three stories high, crowned by a breathtakingly beautiful stained glass dome.

  "Oh, my land!" Jess gushed, eyes agog. "I've gone and fallen down the rabbit hole!" She gazed around in wonder. "And the place is furnished, no less!"

  Ty shrugged. "I guess when you're a millionaire, you can afford to buy new to go with your new house. Just pack your clothes and split."

  "I wouldn't know," Jess murmured, "and I doubt I ever will."

  There was a library with built-in, wall-to-wall bookshelves, several large lighted fish tanks, and an oriental rug. An overly spacious dining room with seating for a minimum of forty guests. A music room. An exercise room, still filled with workout equipment. And an immense game room, complete with billiard table, table tennis, dartboard area, two bowling lanes, a miniature golf game, a fully stocked wet bar, and room to spare.

  "What? No polo field?" Jess joked.

  "That would be out back, probably behind the tennis court," Ty jested.

  Jess smacked a palm to her forehead. "Of course, what a dunce I am. No doubt, it's next to the eighteen-hole golf course."

  Additionally, also on the ground floor, there was a family room, a sun room/conservatory, a fully equipped kitchen designed to send any cook into ecstacy, a pantry the size of a large country kitchen, three full baths, and a laundry room bigger than some laundromats. That still left the screened-in patio and the glass-enclosed, olympic-sized, in-ground swimming pool, complete with a three-tiered fountain in the center of it.

  "Holy Moses!" Jess declared in disbelief. "Who lived here, and why would anyone in his right mind want to sell it?"

  "Supposedly, it belongs to some big-name musician," Ty told her, "but the realtor didn't name names."

  "You'd think a house this big would have maid's quarters, wouldn't you?" Jess commented.

  Ty gestured toward an intercom system on the wall. "There's a caretaker's cottage somewhere on the property. Appropriately placed out of sight and sound of the main hou
se, of course."

  "Of course," Jess repeated numbly. "God forbid the servants should be quartered over the garage, or some such nonsense. They probably also have their own little golf carts, the better to rush to the house when they're summoned."

  The second floor consisted of a dozen separate and complete bedroom suites, all with their own sitting rooms, baths, dressing rooms, and walk-in closets. Naturally, the largest and most elaborate of these was the master suite, which featured a skylight that encompassed nearly the entire ceiling over the sunken tub and bedroom sections.

  Jess gaped. "I'll bet every airplane and helicopter pilot in a forty-mile radius has this place listed on his map, just for the fun of it. I can hear it now. There's a traffic jam at Forty-fifth and Central, a three-car accident on the southbound freeway, and erotic activity in the bedroom near the bay. They're really going at it, folks. Someone get the hose!"

  Ty doubled over with laughter. "Geez, Jess! Only you would think of something like that!"

  She arched a brow at him. "You think so? I don't. There are probably a dozen perverts who have taken up parasailing just to get a peek inside this bedroom. I wouldn't be surprised if they pay the birds not to poop on the roof, just so they can have an unobstructed view. Which brings another thought to mind. How in hell do you clean a skylight?"

  Ty was still chuckling as he guided her out of the room. "You let the rain wash it off, I suppose."

  At the far end of the hallway, an open staircase curved upward toward a partial third story. At the top of the stairs was another unique addition to the house—a circular observatory, with a domed glass roof and a large and obviously costly state-of-the-art telescope. Charts and graphs of stellar constellations papered the lower half of the walls, the part below the windows. Even the floor had sketches of star clusters and planetary revolutions etched into it.

  "I see it, but I don't believe it," Jess breathed. "Their own private observatory! It's... it's absolutely incredible! And just look at the view of the bay from up here!" Then it dawned on her, and she turned to find Ty watching her expectantly. "This is what you meant, with all those hints and songs about the moon and stars."