by Ana Leigh
Doug chased after her and caught her before she reached the boat. He grasped her by the shoulders and turned her around. His expression was so thunderous that he looked mad enough to hit her, but she knew he wouldn't. "I've been up all night and just drove four hours to talk to you. If you don't cool down and listen to me, Jess, I'm tossing you into that lake to cool off."
"Then that's what you'll have to do." She stomped on his foot and when he winced, she shoved him away as hard as she could. He fell back, but the trouble was he was holding on to her when he did. They both toppled into the water.
Jess broke the surface and saw that Doug had just done the same a few feet away. The water did feel good, and it cooled her anger. The fight was out of her; she just wanted to be left alone.
Doug hoisted himself up on the pier and reached out a hand to help her up. When she felt the warm, secure grip of his hand, she knew how much she would miss that touch. It seemed to embody every sentimental moment they had shared.
Once on the pier, he didn't release her. She felt numb, and couldn't bear to start arguing with him again. She looked down at their clasped hands and then up at him.
"Let me go, Doug," she said softly. Both knew she meant more than just a hand clasp.
The water seemed to have had the same effect on him. His touch was gentle when he put a hand on each of her shoulders, and gazed tenderly down at her.
"I can't, Jess, I love you."
Drops of water clung to his forehead and glistened in his dark hair. She turned her head away. It was too painful to look at him and not succumb to the temptation to reach up and run a finger along that rugged jaw or press a kiss to those sensual lips.
"Please, Doug, just go away." She began to shiver and slumped down on the pier and folded her arms across her chest to try and stop shivering.
He walked away without a word, and she hugged her knees to her chest and let her tears mingle with the water running down her cheeks from her dripping hair.
Jess was unaware he'd returned until he knelt beside her, wrapped a blanket around her and began to dry her hair with a towel.
"Let's get you out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold," he said. He removed her shoes and socks, then pulled the blouse over her head and off her arms.
The movement snapped her out of her apathy. "What are you doing?"
"I'm trying to get these wet clothes off you, Jess."
"Stop it. Stop it," she shrieked, and began to flail out at him with both hands.
He hugged her, pinning her arms to her sides. "Jess, honey, I'm not going to hurt you."
She tried to struggle out of his grasp, and his body forced her down until her back was against the pier. Then he stretched out on top of her, holding her down with his body and using his hands to pin her arms to the pier as well.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Jess," he repeated. "I just want to talk to you. I have some news about Karen's death."
Jess was fully alert now, and stopped struggling. It was useless against his strength anyway.
"What about Karen?"
He released her arms, but didn't budge. "We know who killed her."
She tried to comprehend what he was saying as she listened to him explain about matching earrings, a locker and campus murders. After all these years – it couldn't be possible. It finally sunk into her muddled mind that Karen's murderer was no longer out there. His life had been extinguished with the same violence and lack of dignity as his victims'.
Nothing could ever bring Karen back again, but Jess felt a tremendous sense of closure to her sister's death, though there would never be closure on the loss of her.
She threw her arms around his neck in an unbridled feeling of gratitude. "Thank you, Doug. Thank you so much." Tears of joy replaced the ones of despair she had shed only moments earlier.
It was instinctive – inevitable – that a kiss would follow. They reached the point of no return the instant their lips joined. His firm mouth hungrily seeking the response she couldn't deny. Her urgency matched his as her body and senses soared to life again.
That's what this man's touch could do to her. For the past twenty-four hours she had agonized, trying to deny her need for him; a need that went far beyond the physical demand her body now sought. The core of her soul cried out for the solace he brought to it just as fervently as the core of her body demanded the same succor.
Their hands moved with speed and wildness as they struggled to remove each other's wet clothing. And then they were free – mouth on mouth, flesh on flesh, their love flowing between them with the same intensity as their passion.
And as they loved, her arms enfolded him, her body welcomed him, her soul absorbed him.
* * *
Later they swam in the isolation of the quiet lake, and then wrapped together in the blanket they returned to the house. They showered together – which had become a ritual with them – and then went to bed, made love again and then, overcome by exhaustion they fell asleep.
Jess awoke a few hours later and lay watching him sleep. She savored the comfort of his nearness. Even in sleep he was compelling, exuding masculinity. His unshaven jaw was darkened by a light dusting of whiskers, and to her loving gaze his face bordered on beautiful, were it not for the tiny lines that crept from the corners of his eyes and mouth. She smiled, knowing she dare not call him that or Lord knows how he'd react.
Unable to resist the sensuous draw of his lips, she pressed a light kiss to them. He opened his eyes.
"I didn't mean to wake you," she murmured.
The gleam in his eyes was as seductive as the smile on his lips, coaxing her nearer until their breaths mingled.
"I'm glad you did, Angel Face," he said in a husky whisper, and pulled her even closer.
They lay contentedly for a long moment before he asked, "Are you ready to talk about it now?"
She knew what he meant. Would it rekindle all the pain again? No matter how often she had told herself she could give him up, she'd crumbled the moment he appeared. It was foolish to go on thinking she could leave him; she loved him too much to walk away. But would his betrayal always be a painful memory between them?
"I don't know, Doug. I feel betrayed. I trusted you, but you didn't—"
"Jess, I tried to explain this to you last night, but you wouldn't listen. I do not consider you a suspect."
"Then why am I on your suspect list?"
"In order to tie your father and Liz to the crimes. We could hardly do that without adding your name. And just because their names are on the list doesn't mean I personally suspect them."
"Why, Doug? Why in the farthest reach of your imagination would you want to link them to these crimes?"
"Honey, the day Gilbert was released you made an urgent plea on the steps of the courthouse that these killers must be brought to justice."
"All of Southern Wisconsin heard that. Why try to link it to Dad and Liz?"
"Because we have to start somewhere – and that would be directly connected to you."
"So you did suspect me in the beginning?"
"With Gilbert, sure in the beginning before I got to know you." He grinned. "Deep down I hoped that a babe with legs like yours wasn't guilty."
She gave him a swat in the arm. "So when did you rule me out."
"The first time I kissed you, Angel Face."
"I thought this was supposed to be a serious discussion, Doug. This isn't a laughing matter."
"All right, I'll be serious. That same afternoon, practically right after the television incident, Vic and I got a tip from one of our stoolies that somebody was trying to put out a contract on Gilbert. It crossed my mind that you were the only person who knew in advance that he was getting a walk, so maybe you were making the contract. I swear that was the only time I even remotely considered you a possible suspect. By the time Bellemy was murdered, I knew you could never murder or sanction one. Trouble was, these were both cases you threw out of court, so others did."
"You mean Vic."
&n
bsp; "Vic's my partner, Jess. He's a damn sharp detective. It also increased the suspicion against your father and Liz, if someone was knocking off these guys for your sake."
"Thank goodness you didn't approach my bench with that half-baked theory," she grumbled.
"After Bellemy's murder I added Ron Tate to my suspect list. Bellemy had killed Tate's daughter and got a walk. Honey, I was even scared that if it was someone out for revenge you might be in danger for letting the perp go."
"So that explains all those locking doors and fastening the chain lectures from you, McGuire."
"Not entirely. For safety sake, I wish you would learn to lock doors, Jess. Anyway, Sands's death eliminated any motive or connection with you, or any motive for your father or Liz to be involved. Then the attack on Vic eliminated Ron Tate. So we were back to square one until I read you had recused yourself from the Mark Sanderson trial – aka Marcus Sands. It put your father and Liz back on the list as suspects."
"Well, you're wrong. Neither one of them is capable of murder."
"Your father is quite amused that he's a suspect."
"You told him?"
"How do you think I found out about this place?"
"Why would you suspect Liz? These were big men. Physically, how would she ever overpower them and dispose of their bodies?"
"We suspect the killer uses a wheelchair after murdering them. We checked out medical supply companies but couldn't turn up any recent purchases that didn't check out. We even tried hospitals and nursing homes to see if any had a wheelchair missing or stolen. No luck there, either."
"I don't care. You're wrong about Dad and Liz, Doug. You're so wrong."
He hugged her closer. "I hope you're right, honey. I like both of them, and I hope neither is guilty. But trust me, Jess, guilty or not, we will solve these murders."
* * *
I wished I hadn't followed him to the cottage. I saw what the two of you did. It was so disgusting I had to leave. How could you lay naked on that pier and let him do those things to you? He's turning you into a harlot, Jessica. Can't you see he's no good for you? He's pulling you down to his level? I can't stand by and let it happen. I'll have to put a stop to it. And soon before he ruins you more.
* * *
Jess woke up early the next morning and before she could become distracted by the sleeping figure beside her, she got out of bed and retrieved the wet clothing they had left on the pier last night. She had them washed and in the dryer by the time Doug woke up and showered. She'd found him shaving supplies in the other bathroom, but none of her father's clothing was large enough to fit him. He padded barefoot into the kitchen with only a towel wrapped around his hips.
"Have you ever considered becoming a male model, Doug? You have a beautifully proportioned body," she commented, with an appreciate glance.
He measured her with a withering look. "Yeah right. I thought I would as soon as you do a Playboy spread, Judge Jess."
By the time they ate a breakfast of bacon and eggs, Doug's clothes had dried and as soon as he dressed, he went out to his car and returned with his gun and cell phone. Unfortunately, his wallet had been in his jeans pocket, and anything that wasn't plastic or laminated was soaked.
"Next time you get a notion to go swimming, warn me in advance, lady," he said, spreading his currency out on the kitchen counter to dry.
"I'm sorry, Doug."
He slipped his arms around her waist and grinned. "I asked for it, Angel Face." Then he kissed her, and as always past grievances were forgotten.
"So what would you like to do today?" she asked. "Should we play tourist and go sight-seeing?"
"What's wrong with just relaxing?"
"I like that idea. You need a quiet day off."
She beat him unmercifully in a game of Scrabble; he tromped her in a game of backgammon. Then they went swimming. Afterward, they stretched out on towels on the pier and as they soaked up the sun they talked about their pasts. This time they shared the fondest memories of their childhood, chuckling with delight at the pleasant ones, laughing out loud at the awkward ones. Blissfully happy, indescribably in love.
Neither one wanted the day to end. They ate a late dinner, took a midnight swim without suits, came back inside, showered together and made love.
Later, cuddling next to him, Jess murmured, "This has been the happiest day of my life. I wish it would never end."
He kissed her forehead. "So do I, but tomorrow we go back to the separate worlds waiting for us."
"They aren't separate, Doug."
"Jess, from the beginning neither of us have been playing by the rules."
"What rules?"
"You're a judge. I'm a detective."
"Yes, our friend Ms. Matthews has pointed that out. So what?"
"As a detective I've crossed a line as far as my duties and responsibilities are concerned. I'm in the middle of a murder investigation, yet yesterday I not only left town to, follow you up here, but against everything I've been trained to do, I left my weapon in my car overnight because I wasn't thinking of anything except making love to you. And my worst violation is that I'm in love with my partner's prime suspect."
She refused to let his words stir up old uncertainties. "Let him and the whole city of Milwaukee think what they want. What we think is what matters, Doug."
"Yeah right! You know as well as I do, that if I suddenly backed off this case, or quit the force, it would only make people more suspicious of you, your father and Liz. The best thing I can do is stick with it and hope for the right ending."
"Furthermore," she declared, "I don't want to hear another word from you about our separate worlds. I'm a judge, you're a detective. So what? Can't you see that it's never been your world or my world? It's our world."
He rolled over and stretched out on top of her. "We can't run away from reality. My point is if this case doesn't turn out the way we'd like it to, where will that leave us?" His face was lined with tension awaiting her answer.
Yesterday that question would have ripped her apart internally, but since then she had come to understand the position he was in. Given the chance to think clearly, and use her common sense rather than her emotions, she had the confidence and peace of mind that her father and Liz were not involved.
"Where we are right now. Two people in love. Nothing can change that."
He kissed her and their love swirled between them, firing their bodies as always with the heat of their shared passion.
* * *
Chapter 20
«^
The telephone was ringing when Jess opened the door to her apartment late the next day. It was Liz and they chatted for a few minutes, and when she hung up, Doug had just finished a conversation on his cell phone.
"That was Liz," Jess said. "There's a rescheduling snag, so I told her I'd come in and work it out."
"Yeah, I have to go into the precinct, too. Why don't I drop you off at the courthouse, pick you up when I'm through and then we'll grab something to eat."
"Just let me…" Jess halted what she was about to say when she noticed the picture of Karen and her had been moved again. "Doug, why do you keep moving this picture?"
"What are you talking about?" he asked.
"This picture of Karen and I." She picked up the framed photograph and returned it to its rightful spot.
"I've never touched that picture."
She scoffed. "Yeah right! Doug, I don't care if you came in here while I was gone. That doesn't matter anymore."
"Jess, I said I have never touched that picture."
She frowned. "Really." Confused, she shook her head. "I know I didn't move it."
"Maybe your cleaning lady did," he said.
"No, Sarah's been away all month visiting a daughter in Maine. She isn't due back for another week."
Doug was now clearly concerned. "I never told you, Jess, but I thought I heard someone in here one night. Who else has a key to this place?"
"Ah, besides Sarah – who'
s been with me for ten years by the way – my father has one, Liz keeps one at the office, and Charlie, the doorman, has a key in the event of an emergency such as fire."
"What about Wolcott?"
"Dennis returned it to me when we broke up." She opened a table drawer. "It's still here. I should have given it to you a long time ago."
"That still doesn't mean he couldn't have had a duplicate made."
"No, these keys cannot be duplicated without the authorization of the owner."
"Dammit, Jess, you're the most naive person I've ever met. There's nothing easier than to have a duplicate key made. Nine out of ten locksmiths don't give a hoot about any restriction on the key. Do you mind if I have the picture and a couple other things here dusted for prints?"
"Doug, there's nothing missing."
"Jess, please. Humor me. If someone's coming in here without telling you, I want to know."
"All right, if it'll make you happy."
"That's my gal." He kissed her lightly on the forehead. "I'll send someone from Forensics over tomorrow."
"Now, Detective McGuire, may I get to the courthouse?" she asked.
"We're on our way, Angel Face."
* * *
Doug dropped Jess off and said he'd be back to pick her up. Vic was waiting for him at the precinct with the news that another victim's earring, similar to the picture they'd put on the wire, was among the remains of the decedent in Carbondale, Illinois.
The slayer of Marcus Sands had murdered a serial killer of at least four women.
"And who knows how many others." Doug sat down at his desk and picked up a videotape. "What's this?"
"Your favorite female reporter dropped that off for you," Vic said.
There was a note attached from Sherilyn Matthews saying that she thought the Mr. Law and Ms. Order would enjoy showing the tape to their grandchildren some day.
"Why doesn't that barracuda find someone else to chew on?" Doug grumbled.
Vic chuckled. "She's got the hots for you, partner. By the way, how did you make out with Jess?"
"We settled a lot of things between us. Vic, we've got to solve this case. There has to be something we're not connecting. As long as it's open, it's a wedge between Jess and me. I can only hope her father or Liz Alexander's not involved."
