by Karen Rose
Well, Janie’s aunt Lilah hadn’t been the only one wiping away tears. Normally he would have left the room before Janie and Jazzie returned, because he hated the thought of distressing them, but he’d stayed – and he was so glad he had. Janie wasn’t the only sister who’d taken a leap that day. Jazzie’s leap was . . . giant. Standing in the shadows, he’d seen the raw trust in her eyes and the emotion on Taylor’s face.
Taylor studied him. ‘Curious about what?’
‘About the intern who has Maggie and my mom so pleased.’ He shoved his hand in his pocket to keep from rubbing the back of his sweating neck. ‘Anyway, good job. I’ve volunteered here from the beginning. The Jarvis sisters have been two of the tougher nuts to crack.’
‘They miss their mother,’ Taylor murmured, the corners of her mouth drooping sadly. ‘I can’t even imagine what those little girls went through, finding her body.’
‘And knowing her killer’s still out there,’ he said grimly. There had been an investigation, but no arrests so far.
‘Yes, I read that in the file.’
‘Janie doesn’t seem to worry about it, but Jazzie’s old enough to know.’
Taylor closed her eyes, her sigh weary. ‘To know. To be afraid. To always wonder if he’s lurking, waiting to jump out from behind a tree to drag them away.’
There was something in her tone, something that hinted at a first-hand knowledge of that fear, and her reaction to his presence suddenly made a lot of sense. He was about to ask her, but she opened her eyes abruptly and the look he saw there had him veering away from the question.
Hunted, he thought. She looked hunted.
‘I can’t even imagine that kind of fear,’ she said quietly before he could say another word, and he knew she was lying. She didn’t have to imagine. She knew that fear. But for now he didn’t challenge her, because she seemed to need the lie.
‘But you do know how it feels to miss your mom,’ he said.
‘Yes, so I’ve been channeling that. So far, so good.’ She tilted her head, the sunlight picking up the red highlights in her hair. ‘Why did you hide in the shadows?’
‘I wasn’t hiding. I was keeping myself out of Jazzie’s way.’ Ford sighed. ‘She gets scared around men.’
Taylor sucked in a sharp breath. ‘Was she assaulted?’
Ford shrugged. ‘She won’t say one way or the other and it’s not in her official file. But the men around here have learned to give her space. She’s a lot stronger than she looks. And she’s got a great right hook,’ he added ruefully. ‘Just like yours.’
Taylor blinked in stunned surprise. ‘She hit you too?’
‘Not me. My brother, Cole. He startled her in the barn when she was watching over Janie. Jazzie’s only eleven, but she’s a mother hen. She never leaves Janie’s side.’
‘I noticed. What happened with your brother?’
‘It was the girls’ first time coming here and both of them were a bundle of nerves. Janie was crying and Jazzie was trying to comfort her. Cole was just trying to help, but he crowded her – unintentionally – and she swung at him. Knocked him back a step or two. I’m not sure who was more shocked – Cole, Janie, or Jazzie herself. I don’t think she meant to hit him, let alone wallop him like that. I don’t think she believed she could.’
‘Well, that part I get.’ Taylor rolled her eyes. ‘I didn’t expect to hit you either. I only met Cole once, before you all went on your camping trip, but I remember him being about your size. How did Jazzie even reach his jaw?’
‘He’d leaned down to talk to her, thinking he was doing the right thing. He didn’t think about why she’d gotten so scared so fast. Cole’s big, but he’s still a kid. He’s only fifteen.’
Again her eyes widened. ‘Fifteen? He looks twenty.’
‘I know. Poor kid. It used to get him into trouble at school. Teachers expected more from him and kids poked fun at him because he looked like he’d failed a few grades. Now he’s in a better school and nobody bothers him. I think he’d forgotten that he can be so intimidating.’
‘I don’t expect he’ll be forgetting it again any time soon,’ Taylor said dryly.
Ford found himself grinning. ‘I don’t expect that he will. And neither will his brother.’
She rolled her eyes, embarrassed. ‘God. I still can’t believe I did that.’ Then a frown wrinkled her brow. ‘Why didn’t Maggie tell me about Jazzie’s fear of men?’
Ford fought back a frown of his own. If Maggie hadn’t said anything, it meant that she didn’t fully trust her intern. Which made him want to kick himself for spilling it. He’d have to tell Maggie that he’d let the cat out of the bag. He didn’t relish that conversation.
Then again, if Maggie didn’t trust her intern, she hadn’t told his mother about it. If Maggie had, Daphne wouldn’t have been so effusive in her praise.
‘Maggie’s a lioness about protecting the kids’ privacy,’ he said. ‘If it wasn’t in the official file from Children’s Services and if Jazzie hasn’t actually said anything, then Maggie would keep that to herself until she found the right time.’
‘That sounds like Maggie,’ Taylor agreed. ‘Thank you for telling me. I’ve been focused on getting Janie comfortable in the saddle, mainly because Jazzie hasn’t wanted to participate and I haven’t wanted to push her, but I’ll nudge her a little harder on Monday. She needs this as much as Janie.’
‘Um . . .’ He hesitated, not wanting to shove his other foot into his mouth. Hoping he wasn’t about to surprise her yet again. ‘Not on Monday. The program’s closed.’
She looked at him blankly for a second before she remembered. ‘Oh, right. For Dillon’s wedding. Dillon asked me to come,’ she added uncertainly.
Ford ground his teeth, abruptly annoyed with her. She looked like she didn’t want to go, or was at least uncomfortable that Dillon had asked. ‘But?’ The word came out of his mouth too fast, too hard, and too short, but he couldn’t help it, dammit. ‘He makes you uncomfortable?’ If anyone’s mean to Dillon, they’ll answer to me. That went double for Dillon’s fiancée, Holly. Nobody messed with Holly.
Both approaching thirty, Holly and Dillon had Down syndrome. They’d fought hard for their independence and Ford would be damned before he allowed anyone to hurt them, especially on their wedding day. That included the farm’s newest intern, regardless of her dark eyes and pretty face.
Taylor’s eyes registered startled understanding before narrowing. ‘You think it’s because he has Down syndrome, don’t you?’ Her jaw went hard and tight. ‘Don’t even bother denying it.’ She turned on her heel, leaving him with his mouth open as she made her exit.
It took Ford a second to process her words. Another second to process that she was walking away. And a third to realize that he didn’t want her to go. Not like this.
‘Taylor. Wait.’ He caught up to her before she got to the lounge door. He slapped his palm to the door, keeping her from opening it. ‘I did think that, and I’m sorry.’
She froze, her hand gripping the doorknob so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
Ford swallowed. He’d scared her again, the last thing he’d wanted to do. Clearly remembering that right hook of hers, he pulled his palm away from the door, making himself as small and non-threatening as he could.
‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated quietly. ‘I’ve seen too many people hurt Holly and Dillon, and I just reacted. Holly’s older brother, Joseph, is my mom’s husband, so technically Holly’s my step-aunt, but she’s more like a sister to me. I’m more than a little protective. We all are.’
Taylor’s shoulders sagged, but she didn’t give up her hold on the doorknob. She didn’t yank the door open and bolt either, though, and that was encouraging.
‘My youngest sister, Julie, has cerebral palsy,’ she said, keeping her gaze squarely on the door i
n front of her. ‘She’s twenty, but she has the learning capacity of a fourth grader. We love her. Just the way she is.’
Ford felt even worse now. ‘We love Dillon and Holly the same way. I shouldn’t have judged you. I hope you accept Dillon’s invitation and come to the wedding.’ He forced his lips to curve. ‘Holly works for her sister’s bakery. The cake is going to be amazing.’
Taylor slowly released the doorknob, wiped her palm on her jeans, then gripped the knob again, much less forcefully. When she finally looked up, her expression was politely distant. ‘Just so we’re clear, I hesitated because I didn’t want to be a wedding crasher. I met Dillon a few days before you all left for your camping trip. I haven’t met Holly yet. I didn’t want to be in the way. But if my staying away will hurt Dillon, I will be there with bells on. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to work.’
The door closed behind her and Ford let out the breath he’d been holding. ‘Shit,’ he muttered. ‘Way to go, Elkhart.’ If Taylor quit, his mother would be upset, and Ford would walk over hot coals to avoid that. But even more importantly . . .
If Taylor quits, I would be upset, he admitted in the quiet of his mind. But there was no way he’d let anyone else know the new intern had grabbed his attention so completely.
Because she’d be going home at the end of her internship. California, his mother had said. Clear across the damn country. Nothing could come of any relationship, even if she was interested. Which, thanks to his own bumbling mouth, she wouldn’t be. There was no use in even considering it. Or her.
But he was interested, though he was going to keep his interest to himself, because everyone would make a big deal of it due to the fact that he hadn’t had a date in almost two years. Not since . . .
His brain stumbled. Say it, you coward. Say it out loud. Since . . .
‘Kimberly.’ He spat the name into the silence, cursing his ex once again. For hurting him. Betraying him. Setting him up to be kidnapped, for God’s sake. But mostly for making him afraid to get close to anyone new.
Ford closed his eyes. He was afraid. Not of the physical pain. He’d handled that. It was the humiliation that had followed his rescue. The pity. He hated the pity. It was better now, but there were still whispers.
Poor Ford. Such a nice young man. Shame he had to go through all that. Wish he’d find himself a nice girl. Poor Ford.
If he dated an intern only to have her walk away at the end of her term, the whispers would become actual words once more. Poor Ford. He got his heart broken again. He has such bad luck with the ladies.
And that was so not happening again. So as pretty as the new intern was, she was off limits. That was all there was to it.
Baltimore, Maryland,
Saturday 22 August, 3.05 P.M.
Detective JD Fitzpatrick pushed through the doors to the autopsy suite, swallowing back the snarl that had twisted his face the moment he’d received the call to come to the morgue. One job. He’d asked Hector to cover one fucking job while he was gone. All he’d had to do was to tail Toby Romano.
And keep him alive, he added acidly in his own mind. Hector hadn’t covered that one job very well. Which was why JD had detoured to the morgue instead of going straight home to his wife and kids. Lucy, Jeremiah and Bronwynne would have to wait. Once again.
Because Toby Romano was laid out on a stainless-steel autopsy table, his skin cold and gray. He wasn’t even twenty years old.
JD avoided looking at the three men standing around the table, using the moments it took to suit up to silently grieve a young man who should not be dead. Who’d never really had a chance to live. The kid had been on a bad path from the moment he’d drawn his first breath, still connected to his drug-addicted mother. Could have been me. So damn easily. But JD had had an aunt who’d taken him in. Toby hadn’t been so lucky. Now he never would be.
JD donned the paper cover-up and mask, wishing he hadn’t left town in the middle of this case, then forced himself to remember that he was more than the job. That he had a family and friends – which had meant keeping his promise to attend at least part of the camping trip that had served as Dillon’s bachelor party. Friends kept their promises.
JD closed his eyes as he pulled on a pair of gloves. He’d promised Toby Romano safety. Not to the man’s face, because Toby hadn’t even known he was in danger. But he had promised himself the young man would stay safe.
Goddammit, Hector. I asked you to do one fucking thing. One motherfucking thing.
Once again JD swallowed back the snarl, reminding himself that Hector was a fine cop – an experienced detective – and had never shirked his duties in the year they’d worked together. The man cared, and he’d supported JD a hundred percent since the case started. Whatever had happened, JD had to believe Hector would have a good explanation.
He turned to the three men standing silently next to Romano’s body. Neil Quartermaine, the medical examiner, appeared weary. JD’s boss, Special Agent Joseph Carter, normally unreadable, flicked a strained warning glance toward Hector. Because Detective Hector Rivera looked absolutely devastated.
JD approached the group warily. There was no reason for Hector to look so wrecked. Yes, this sent them back to the drawing board in their search for Valerie Jarvis’s killer, and yes, Romano was dead, but Toby had been JD’s confidential informant. Hector hadn’t even met him before this case began.
Something else had gone down. Something big.
‘What happened?’ JD asked, his gut wrenching when Hector’s eyes slid closed. It couldn’t be the little girls. Joseph would have told him that up front. Still, his eyes darted from gurney to gurney, looking for a sheet-covered body that was . . . child-sized. But there were none. ‘The Jarvis girls?’
‘No,’ Joseph assured him. ‘Jazzie and Janie are fine. They’re at the farm today, in fact.’
JD held himself rigid, even though he was sagging with relief on the inside. ‘Then why the hell is Hector looking like he lost his best friend?’ Hector flinched. ‘I’m sorry, man,’ JD added more gently. ‘Tell me what happened.’
‘Romano lost his tail last night,’ Hector said quietly. ‘Went into a bodega and out the back door. The officer called it in as soon as he realized. We searched for Romano, but the guy was in the wind. We put out a BOLO, but got nothin’. I finally told Officer Mancuso to go to the alley where Romano’d been sleeping and just wait for him. We figured he’d come back when he got tired. It was his habit.’
‘Yeah, it was his habit,’ JD said evenly, making an effort to keep the bitterness out of his voice because Hector looked so damned tortured, but . . . Goddammit. Toby Romano had been an important link – JD’s only link – to the murderer of a mother of two. The mother whose beaten body had been found by her daughter. Now Toby was dead and JD was out of leads. And running out of time. ‘Did Toby come back to his alley?’
Hector shrugged. ‘Not under his own power and not until dawn.’ He pointed to another body on a gurney, a male about twenty years older than Toby. ‘It looks like that guy dumped him in the alley. Romano had OD’d. The second guy may have been going through Romano’s pockets – they were all turned out. As best we can tell, Officer Mancuso confronted the second guy, but was not prepared for him to have a knife.’
It was JD’s turn to flinch. ‘Oh no,’ he murmured.
‘Yes,’ Hector said, his voice now harsh. ‘Officer Mancuso got off two shots. Both hit John Doe over there, but Mancuso was bleeding already. John Doe took Mancuso’s service weapon, shot him in the head with it, and ran. Doe collapsed a block away, bled out.’
‘And Officer Mancuso?’ JD asked carefully.
Joseph Carter shook his head. ‘He didn’t make it,’ he said gruffly. ‘He had no brain activity when the EMTs brought him in, but they tried to bring him back. Hector was sitting with the officer’s wife in the surgery waiting
room all morning. They got the news about fifteen minutes ago.’
‘You knew him well?’ JD asked Hector as gently as he could.
Hector’s nod was curt. ‘Yeah. I was his trainer. He was a damned good cop.’
JD’s shoulders sagged. Fuck it all. ‘I’m sorry, Hector.’
Another curt nod. ‘So am I. I’m sorry Darren Mancuso is dead and I’m sorry your guy OD’d on my watch.’
‘Toby was a junkie,’ JD said sadly. ‘Started using when he was still a kid. I knew him when I was in Vice. He was a meth-head. It was a matter of time. But he was my link to Valerie Jarvis’s killer. I’m back to square one.’
‘Maybe he really was Valerie Jarvis’s killer,’ Joseph said in that damned unreadable tone of his. The one that made it unclear if he really believed what he was saying, or if he was playing devil’s advocate.
JD frowned. They’d had this conversation too many times already. ‘He couldn’t have been, Joseph. He was on the other side of town the day Valerie Jarvis was murdered.’ Beaten to death in her own living room, her face unrecognizable.
‘His alibi didn’t cover all of the time-of-death window Quartermaine gave us.’ Joseph’s voice was so mild that it grated.
JD glared at him. ‘You know part of that window is accounted for.’
‘Not if you can’t get her to talk,’ Joseph snapped.
Neil Quartermaine spoke up. ‘What are you talking about? How is part of the Jarvis woman’s time-of-death window accounted for?’
JD drew a breath, let it out. ‘We’re keeping that quiet. Need-to-know only.’
Quartermaine gave him a sour look. ‘You have got to be shitting me. You guys have never shut me out before. Why now?’
Because the life of an eleven-year-old girl depends on it. But JD kept that to himself, just as he’d done for the last month.
‘Your case just changed, JD,’ Hector murmured. ‘We have a dead cop. There’ll be an investigation. IA will get involved. I don’t think you can keep the kid’s secrets any longer.’
JD wanted to tell Hector he was wrong, but he knew better. Hector had been one of the few he’d trusted with all the details of this case. Only Hector, Joseph and Brodie, their crime-scene investigator, knew everything. Everyone else got only what information they agreed to release. That included cops. And MEs.
