All a Man Can Do

by Virginia Kantra

  "Was she with anyone? Friends? A boyfriend?"

  Tess shook her head. "She was alone. She had plans to come up with her roommate, but they fell through. She told me she didn't want to waste a guaranteed reservation, so she decided to make the trip alone."

  "A reservation? You know where?"

  Tess frowned. "The Bide-A-Wee, I think. In the lodge."

  Jarek made another note. "Anybody hit on her while you two were talking?"

  "I…" Tess stared into her orange juice, trying to recreate the scene in her mind. At the cash register, Tim Brown hunched over a calculator and a legal pad, reconciling the previous night's take. "Not really. She left a couple of times to dance. We both did. But mostly we just talked."

  "We? You and Carolyn?"

  No point in muddying the waters, Tess thought. "Yes."

  "And your brother?"

  Tess felt sick. Stupid, She had nothing to worry about. The years when she had to protect Mark were over. He was a grown man, a former marine who had returned from overseas with a chip on his shoulder, a tattoo on his arm and training in weapons and self-defense. None of which she needed to share with Denko. "I told you. He was tending bar."

  "Right. He drive you home?"

  "No. He lives at the other end of the marina. He's got an apartment over one of the boathouses."

  "But you stuck around, maybe? Till he got off work."

  "No." She wished to God that she had. "I left early. Around midnight."

  "And was the victim, Carolyn, still there at 'around midnight'?"

  "Yes."

  "Still alone. Sitting at the bar?"

  "Yes."

  "And you don't know what time she left."

  Tess picked at her paper napkin. "No."

  "You okay?" Denko asked gruffly.

  She straightened defensively against the vinyl seat back. "Why wouldn't I be?"

  "Maybe because an hour ago you saw somebody you knew, somebody you'd talked with, hauled off in an ambulance?"

  She was getting used to his perception. She wasn't quite as prepared for the way it made her feel: naked and warm.

  But then he spoiled it all by adding, "Or could be there's something you'd like to tell me you haven't gotten around to yet."

  "You have a nasty, suspicious mind, did you know that?"

  His smile glimmered like a break in the ice. "Goes with the job."

  "I'm not sure I like your job."

  "Are you going to tell me about your ride in the police car when you were fourteen?"

  Ouch. "No. Are you going to tell me why you cleared all your officers from the scene and called in the state crime scene investigation team?"

  Something gleamed in his eyes. Respect, maybe. Or annoyance. "Noticed that, did you?"

  "Yes. Is it relevant?"

  "Relevant to what?"

  She pulled out her own notebook. Let him see how he liked being the one questioned for a change. "To my story about the attack."

  "Police blotter stuff," he said dismissively. "Not much of a story."

  She tapped her pen against the blank page. "Maybe not in Chicago. But if tourists are getting raped by the side of the road in Eden, it is definitely a story."

  She thought he tensed, but his voice remained calm as he corrected her. "One woman was attacked. That hardly constitutes a crime pattern, even in Eden. You shouldn't sensationalize."

  She glared. "I don't call it sensationalism to warn the community."

  "That's very public-spirited of you."

  "You have a problem with that?"

  "Not at all," he replied. "If the public interest is your actual objective."

  "Excuse me?"

  "Are you really interested in getting a warning out there, or do you just want to get a headline with your name under it?"

  She rolled her eyes. "Oh, yeah, I'm a real glory hound, writing for the Eden Gazette."

  "Big stories get picked up by bigger papers," he observed.

  Her heart hammered. "And do you think this could be a big story?"

  His lips firmed. "I think you might make it into one. If it suited your purpose."

  She ran a hand through her hair in frustration. "Look, I'm not acting from sinister motives here. I just don't like secrets. I especially don't like the police keeping secrets." Boy, there was an understatement. She pushed away a sixteen-year-old memory. "And I don't appreciate you standing in the way of a story."

  "Understood. I don't like secrets, either." His eyes, cool and steady as rain, met hers. "And I won't tolerate anyone standing in the way of an investigation."

  Mark DeLucca had a face like an archangel on a cathedral wall and an assassin's flat, black gaze. It was a look likely to appeal to a lot of women, Jarek figured. Daring ones. Dumb ones. It remained to be seen if the victim, young Carolyn Logan, fit into either category.

  "Your sister mentioned that Miss Logan spent a lot of time at the bar last night," Jarek said.

  Mark continued to brush paint on the bottom of a skiff with sure, even strokes. Around the graying wooden dock, sunlight sparkled on dark water. The wind swayed the pines and tattered the white clouds high overhead. The whole scene was straight out of one of Pop's fishing magazines or a glossy Great Lakes travel brochure.

  DeLucca looked almost as at home in this environment— a fallen angel in Eden—as Jarek felt out of place.

  The younger man dipped his brush in a can of blue paint. "She was there."

  His response didn't make it clear whether he meant his sister or Carolyn Logan. But at least he was talking.

  Yeah, and if he said something incriminating and Tess found out about it, she'd likely murder them both.

  Jarek shook his head. He had enough troubles with this case without worrying about Tess's reaction to him questioning her brother.

  "Did you serve Miss Logan?" he asked.

  Mark's mouth twisted with bitter humor. "I don't violate the underage drinking laws, if that's what you're asking. I carded her."

  "And?"

  "I gave her a Coke. She was nineteen."

  A baby, thought Jarek, and imagined his daughter, his Allie, reaching nineteen. Damn it, Eden was supposed to be a safe place to raise children.

  "Notice anything else?"

  "It was an Illinois license, and she lied about her weight." Mark DeLucca shrugged. "Nothing unusual about either one."

  "What about her conversation with your sister?"

  "What about it?"

  "Do you remember what they talked about?" Did you talk with Carolyn Logan? Flirt with her? Rape her?

  "Why don't you ask Tess?"

  "I'm asking you."

  Marie DeLucca's eyes glittered with black amusement "Well, now you can ask her. Because she just got out of her car, and she's coming over."

  Jarek turned. Tess's car was parked in the shadow of the boathouse, and Tess herself was striding down the dock.

  His headache returned with a vengeance. But despite his pounding head, he admired the picture she made, flying toward them with all the elegance and wicked intent of one of those black-necked geese defending its young. She wore jeans, and boots that were more suited to Michigan Avenue than a dock in the lake district, and an expression between hope and fury.

  He caught himself stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets and smiled in wry recognition. Look, don't touch.

  She stopped beside them, her breath quick through parted lips, her golden eyes bright and narrow with suspicion. "Mark."

  Her brother straightened, wiping his hands on the thighs of his jeans. "Tess." His dry tone was a parody of hers.

  Not a lot of love lost there, Jarek thought But then she reached out and touched his jacket sleeve, and his hand covered hers in quick reassurance before they both turned to face Jarek. Now he saw the family resemblance he had missed before: the dark, straight hair and the dark, arched brows and the go-to-hell tilt of the jaw. Only Tess's mouth was full and soft, and Mark's eyes were black and cold.

  "You didn't waste
any time getting over here," Tess said to Jarek.

  He met her gaze and her accusation calmly. "Neither did you."

  "Do you two know each other?" Mark asked.

  "We've met," said Jarek.

  Tess's mouth flattened. "He pulled me out of a cop and groupie bar on Wednesday night."

  Mark went as still as a coiled snake.

  "Just keeping her out of trouble," Jarek said evenly.

  "That's usually her job," Mark said.

  Jarek raised an eyebrow. "Is that what she does? Keeps you out of trouble?"

  Mark slanted a sharp grin at his sister. "When we were growing up, yeah. Not so much since I got back to town."

  "You were away?" Jarek asked, deceptively polite.

  "Six years."

  He didn't elaborate.

  "Prison?" Jarek asked.

  The grin broadened. "Marines. So I figure I'm big enough to watch out for myself now." DeLucca looked at Jarek, and the amusement left his face. "And for her."

  He was being warned off, Jarek thought. Fair enough. If his sister looked like Tess DeLucca, he'd bristle, too. But, Nora, bless her, had never been the black leather pants type.

  Tess elbowed her brother in the ribs. "Stop it," she said. "So, what did you tell him?"

  "Same as you, I bet. I met the girl last night. I didn't know her personally. I'm sorry some son of a bitch hurt her, and I don't know who did it."

  Jarek persisted. "You can't remember who else she spoke with?"

  "A bunch of rich kids came over from the Algonquin. I thought she was with them at first." His shoulder jerked. "Frankly I was more concerned with what my customers were drinking than who they were groping on the dance floor."

  "And was Miss Logan groping anyone?"

  Mark DeLucca's dark brows drew together in thought "No," he answered at last, slowly. "No, she wasn't She shot down Carl Taylor."

  Who the hell was Carl Taylor?

  "Taylor's Gas-N-Go," Tess offered before he could ask. "Married, two kids."

  It was the kind of background information that Jarek desperately needed and sorely missed And, because of Tess's undisguised partiality for her brother, the kind of lead he couldn't depend on.

  "Thanks. So, she left alone…what time, Mr. DeLucca?"

  "Late. Twelve-thirty?"

  "That fits what I told you," Tess said.

  Jarek threw her an annoyed look. She smiled back, both challenge and apology bright in those wide gold eyes. Why had he thought life would be simpler in Eden?

  Do the job, he told himself. "You were responsible for closing up?" he asked Mark.

  "Not last night, no. I clocked out around one."

  "Also alone," Jarek said.

  The gleam again. "If I'd been in the mood for company, I could have had some."

  Okay, that was probably true. The DeLuccas were a good-looking family. "So, you weren't in the mood. Did you drive?"

  "Are you kidding? I live five minutes away."

  "But you do have a car."

  "Sure. Right over there by the boathouse."

  Jarek followed his nod. Parked beside Tess's tiny compact was a black Jeep Cherokee with dings in the side and mud on the tire guards. Very macho.

  "Mind if I take a look?"

  Tess cocked her chin. "Do you have a search warrant?"

  Jarek understood family loyalty. Hell, he admired it, and the stubborn angle of her jaw, but he wasn't going to let either one get in his way.

  "Do I need one?" he asked Mark.

  "If I say yes, will you go away and never come back?" Mark met Jarek's eyes and smiled slightly. "Yeah, that's what I thought." He gestured toward the Jeep. "Be my guest."

  Jarek waited for Mark to pull out his keys and slouch ahead along the dock. Tess fell in beside them. The wind flattened her shirt against that amazing chest and plucked at her hair. Jarek caught a whiff of her shampoo, musky and incongruous against a background of diesel, woods and rising water.

  "Did you tell him he could have a lawyer?" she asked.

  Jarek's headache screwed up a notch. "No, I decided to skip that part."

  "He has a right to a lawyer."

  "I don't need a lawyer," Mark said.

  Jarek tried to sound reassuring. "I haven't arrested your brother, Tess. He's not in custody, he's not obliged to answer any questions, and he's free to go at any time."

  "After you look in his car," she said with disgust. "This is ridiculous, you know. I don't know what you've heard, but Mark would never hurt a woman."

  He hadn't heard anything yet. He didn't know these people. A detective had to rely on his knowledge of a neighborhood, its feuds and alliances, its racial and religious makeup, its individuals' schedules and quirks. For the first time since he'd left Joe Arbuzzi's protective wing, Jarek was operating alone and blind.

  He set his jaw against a surge of frustration. Based on Carolyn Logan's whispered testimony, Jarek couldn't even trust his own department.

  Mark DeLucca unlocked the Jeep. "Tess, shut up," he said affectionately. "Let the chief do his job."

  She glared at them both, her mouth mutinous. "I'm trying to help him do his job. He's wasting his time going after you."

  Jarek hoped she was right. He liked Tess, with her hard attitude and her soft mouth and her instinctive defense of her brother. He sensed Mark DeLucca was a much tougher nut than his sister, but he didn't particularly want to arrest the guy for assault.

  He stuck his head in the Jeep, looking for something really obvious to suggest that Mark DeLucca could have lured Carolyn Logan into his car, like a long blond hair or a missing earring or…

  His heart rate jumped as he spotted it. Or a red-and-blue, dual-head strobe light mounted on the visor over the passenger side.

  Jarek eased his shoulders out of the car, careful not to brush against the seat or the door.

  "Do you mind if I get my kit from the car? As long as I'm here, I might as well do this properly." He looked directly at Mark. "You understand."

  Mark went very still. His eyes went blank. "Yeah, I understand."

  "I don't," Tess complained, her gaze darting between them. "What's going on?"

  Jarek had a potential break in his case, and he hated it. "I just want to make sure I'm following procedure. I appreciate your cooperation," he said to Mark. "You must be in law enforcement yourself."

  "No," Mark said flatly.

  "My mistake. I just figured—" Jarek gestured. "You've got the signal lights."

  "For rescue emergencies. I'm a Wofer."

  "Wilderness First Responder for the county," Tess said. It was the second time that morning that she had explained something to him. Maybe she genuinely was trying to be helpful.

  The possibility didn't make Jarek feel any better about what he had to do next.

  Chapter 5

  "Sorry, Tess." Sherry Biddleman looked up from the computer screen behind the nurses' station. "Immediate family only."

  Tess dangled the white box in her hand by its string. "I brought hazelnut crescents. From Palermo's."

  "Dang." The pretty, round-faced nurse stuck a pen behind her ear. "Are those for me or the Logan girl?"

  Tess set the bakery box on the high counter that separated the nurses' desk from the hall. Her heart beat faster. "These are for you. I just want to see how she's doing."

  I want to ask what she remembers.

  I want to prove Mark wasn't involved.

  "Not so good," Sherry said. "She came in with rib fractures and severe pulmonary contusion. They gave her a chest tube in E.R., and she almost bled out."

  Tess's quick shudder was for real. "How is she now?"

  "Better. Calmer." The nurse pulled a face. "Drugged."

  Tess tapped a fingernail on the bakery box. "Look, I know her. Couldn't I go down to her room and pop in for just a minute? Maybe until her family gets here?"

  "There's a policeman sitting outside her door."

  Tess lifted the lid of the box. The scent of chocolate hovered in
the air, briefly banishing the hospital smells of fear and sweat and disinfectant. "Which policeman?"

  "Paul Larsen."

  Tess bit her lip, considering. She remembered the middle Larsen boy. Fifteen years ago he played rowdy and unrefereed football in the park with her brother. He had married Connie the Eternal Virgin Kolicki, but even that hadn't soured him. He was a good guy, a likable guy. For a cop. Maybe he would even let her in to talk to Carolyn.

  "I think I'll go say 'hi'."

  Sherry shrugged and helped herself to a hazelnut crescent. "Sure. Give him a thrill. Just don't tell Connie I sent you."

  A big man erupted from a room at the other end of the hall. "Where's a damn nurse?"

  "Dang," Sherry said, and dropped her pastry.

  "Emergency?" Tess asked.

  Sherry rolled her eyes. "He thinks so. His wife's got some idea a stay in the ICU should come with room service." But she moved away smoothly to deal with the problem.

  Tess eased in the opposite direction. "Down here?"

  "And right at the corner," Sherry called as she intercepted her patient's husband.

  Right. Okay. Tess fought the flutter in her stomach as she hurried down the gray linoleum.

  Jarek Denko was new in town. He might not automatically assume that trouble with a girl meant Mark DeLucca was involved. But somebody would tell him. Some outraged father or disgruntled boyfriend or jealous husband would let him know that Mark DeLucca couldn't be trusted around anyone wearing mascara, and after that it was only a matter of time before Jarek came after her brother.

  Who was she kidding? He was out to get Mark already. She just didn't know why.

  Tess slowed as she neared the end of the hall. What was it about Mark's car? Because something had provoked Jarek's sudden wariness at the marina, the abrupt return of his nightstick-up-the-back attitude. Something had made him decide to attack her brother's Jeep with his scary black case and plastic sample bags.

  Mark told her not to worry about it. Mark said she was overreacting.

  Mark was a shortsighted idiot.

  It was up to Tess to fix things. It was always up to Tess to fix things.

  She rounded the corner. But first she had to get past Paul Larsen.