Count to Ten

by Karen Rose

  “They just got back this morning.” She sniffed. “From Florida. They were here, talking to the police. I went out after the police were gone, to offer my help, of course.”

  Of course. “Did they mention where they were staying by any chance?”

  “I didn’t ask. But they had a parking permit from the -Beacon Inn.”

  Thank God for gossiping old busybodies, he thought with a grin. “Thank you, ma’am. Happy holidays.” He hung up, satisfied.

  Mrs. Dougherty, you and I have a date. A hot one. He chuckled. A hot date. Sometimes I slay myself. He dragged the mammoth phone book from below the phone and found the hotel’s number, dug in his pocket for more change and dialed.

  A perky voice answered. “Beacon Inn, this is Tania. How can I help you?”

  He deepened his voice. “Yes. I’d like the room number for Joe Dougherty, please.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. We don’t give out the room numbers of guests. I can connect you.”

  The back of his neck heated in anger. “Actually, I’m having flowers delivered to him and his wife. I just need the room number to tell the florist.”

  “Just tell the florist our hotel name and location. We’ll deliver them for you.”

  Her smug tone clawed at him. We’ll deliver them for you. She wasn’t going to tell him, the high-and-mighty bitch. He gritted his teeth against the impotent rage. “Thank you, Tania. You’ve been so helpful.” He hung up and narrowed his eyes at the phone.

  Flowers it would have to be. And Tania would wish she really had been helpful.

  Chapter Nine

  Tuesday, November 28, 6:45 P.M.

  Reed yawned as he pulled into the parking space beside Mitchell’s little Alfa.

  “Don’t do that,” she protested. “I still have tons of reading to do tonight.”

  “You’re not going back to your desk. I know I need some sleep. So do you, Mia.”

  “I won’t go back right away. I have something I need to do first. But I’ve got to get through some of those files. We’ve got nothing so far.”

  “The info we got from the sorority was disappointing,” he agreed glumly.

  “They can’t tell us what they didn’t see. If this guy stalked Caitlin, he was damn careful about it. At least we can rule out Doug Davis and Joel Rebinowitz.”

  “Lucky for Doug he has a temper. Being held without bail for aggravated assault in a Milwaukee jail gives him a tight alibi. We can tell Margaret Hill he’s not to blame.”

  “And luckily the arcade has a security camera.” It had clearly shown Joel playing pinball during the hours in question. She scrubbed her cheeks with her palms and shot him a weak smile. “Go home and see your daughter, Solliday. Fluffy is dead so he just isn’t the conversationalist he used to be. I won’t be missing anything at home.”

  He didn’t smile back. Fatigued frustration flared and with it his temper. “No way. Tired people have accidents. People die. Go the hell home.”

  She blinked at him, surprised. “I’m not that tired.”

  “That’s what the guy said who ran a red light and broadsided my wife.” Immediately he wished the words back, but it was too late.

  Her blue eyes flickered sympathy. “And she died?”

  “Yes.” The one word vibrated with an anger that surprised him. But at the moment he wasn’t sure whom he was most angry with.

  She sighed. “I’m so sorry.”

  So was he. “It was a long time ago.” He gentled his voice. “Go home, Mia. Please.”

  She nodded. “Okay. I will.”

  That had been too easy. It didn’t take a detective to realize she wasn’t going home.

  Something perverse nagged at him. She was going to get herself killed, and dammit, she was starting to grow on him. He now understood why Spinnelli spoke so highly of her. He also had to admit she’d piqued his own curiosity.

  Reed waited until she’d driven away, and then followed. At the first traffic light she hadn’t detected his presence. She really must be tired, he thought. He pulled out his phone and said, “Home,” and waited for voice recognition to do its thing.

  “Hey, Dad,” Beth said, startling him. Caller ID still caught him unaware sometimes.

  “Hi, sweetie. How was school today?” The light changed and Mitchell continued onward, not trying to lose him. So far, so good.

  “Okay. When are you coming home?”

  “I’ll be a little while. Something’s come up on this case.”

  “What? You promised you’d take me to Jenny Q’s tonight. Meet her mother. So I can go to her party this weekend, remember?”

  The vehemence in her voice took him aback. “Well, I can go over there tomorrow.”

  “I have to study with her tonight.”

  It sounded as if every word was being spat from her mouth. “Beth, what’s wrong?”

  “You’re not keeping your promise is what’s wrong. Oh!”

  It sounded like she stifled a sob and alarmed, he sat up straighter. Hormones again. He could never keep track of which week to be careful. “Honey? This will be all right. I’ll ask Aunt Lauren to go meet her mother if it’s that important to you.”

  “Okay.” She shuddered a breath. “Sorry, Dad.”

  Reed blinked. “It’s okay, honey. I think. Put Aunt Lauren on the phone.”

  “What was that about?” Lauren asked a minute later.

  “She wants to go to a party at her friend’s house this -weekend and I was going to meet the girl’s mother tonight, but I’m working late.” It was a small lie. Little and white. Still he winced. But made no move to turn around. “Can you take her over there to study and give the mom the third degree?”

  “Do I get to use the bright lights and rubber hoses?”

  He chuckled. “Knock yourself out. I’m not sure when I’ll be home.”

  “Reed, are you working that fire that killed the social worker?”

  Reed grimaced. “How do you know about that?”

  “It’s all over the news. My God. That poor woman.”

  “Which news?”

  “Local. It was one of their lead stories. You want me to tape it for you at ten?”

  “That’d be great. Remember, Beth’s got to be home by nine.”

  “I’ve been doing this a long time, Reed,” Lauren said patiently. “You shouldn’t worry about my taking care of Beth. You should be more worried I’ll get married.”

  “Are you planning a big wedding any time soon?” he teased.

  “I’m serious. One of these days I’ll leave. You need to consider my replacement.”

  “Oh. This is about me dating.” Lauren was good at back-alley arguing.

  “Finding a good wife is a lot easier than hiring a good nanny. And my biological clock is ticking. I’ve got to find a husband before they’re all taken. Talk to you later.”

  Reed hung up, a scowl furrowing his forehead. What would he do with Beth when Lauren flew the nest? He did know he wasn’t going to get married just to get a live-in nanny-slash-maid. He’d had a good marriage once. There was no way in hell he’d make do with anything less. He let his mind drift as he tailed Mia Mitchell’s car, remembering Christine. She’d been the perfect wife. Beautiful, smart, sexy. He sighed. Yes, sexy. He had to stop letting his mind drift, because it kept drifting to sex.

  But it was hard to control his mind when he was this tired, much less his body. He could remember everything so vividly. Just how she’d looked, how it had felt to make love to her in the quiet of the night. Touching her skin, her hair. The way she whispered his name when she was so close, begging him to take her to the sun. And how it had felt when she came, taking him with her. But most of all, he remembered the amazing peace he’d felt afterward, holding her spooned against him.

  Stop. Something was wrong with that fantasy. Different. Reed blinked hard, bringing all the taillights in his path back into focus. Whoa. Troubled, he blinked again, but the picture in his mind was unchanged. The woman in his mental wanderings wasn�
��t tall and dark with the lithe body of a dancer. The woman in his mind was blond. Her body strong and compact. Her breasts... her legs... different. Her eyes weren’t dark and mysterious. They were wide and blue like the summer sky.

  Hell. The woman he’d been making love to in his mind hadn’t been Christine. It had been Mia Mitchell. Restlessly he shifted, the picture of Mitchell still stubbornly filling his mind. Naked and waiting for him. And now that he’d seen her like that, even if it was only in his mind, it was going to be damn difficult to see her any other way.

  “Well, that’s just perfect,” he muttered. Making love to a memory was safe. Dreaming about a real live woman was way too dangerous. So he’d push the very thought from his mind. This he could do. This he’d done before. This was discipline.

  Four cars ahead, Mia was signaling her merge onto the interstate, going south. If he had a brain in his head he’d drive right on past the merge ramp, turn around at the next intersection and go home. But he didn’t. For some reason he didn’t try to fathom, he followed, wondering where she would take them.

  Tuesday, November 28, 7:00 P.M.

  He slid the vase full of flowers onto the hotel’s counter. -“Delivery, ma’am.”

  A small woman stood behind the counter, typing. Her name tag said TANIA and below it in smaller letters, -ASSISTANT MANAGER. Around her neck she wore a photo ID and clipped behind it, a key card. He’d bet it was a master key. And he needed one of those.

  She looked up with a tired smile. “I’ll be with you in just a minute.”

  He yawned, then pushed the dark-rimmed glasses up on his nose. They were just ten-dollar reading glasses, but they altered his looks. Combined with the long wig he’d picked up cheap, the difference would be enough to fool the security camera. “Take your time.”

  “You’re working late,” she said sympathetically.

  His yawn had been no fake. He’d had a couple of very late nights recently. “Got a few last-minute orders. But this is my last delivery tonight. I get to go home.”

  Her smile was rueful. “Lucky you.”

  He let her type another thirty seconds. “The roads are really slick, so be careful when you drive home. They’re call-ing for more snow tonight.”

  “Thanks, but I’m not going home any time soon. I’m here all night.”

  He grimaced. “All night? Jeez.” All night? Damn. He wanted her key.

  She shrugged as she typed efficiently. “I have two people out with the flu, so I’m pulling a double. Don’t get off till seven tomorrow morning.” She finished typing and turned, giving him her full attention. “Oh, what pretty flowers.”

  They should be. They cost him fifty bucks. “They go to...” He pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket. -“Dougherty. Can you confirm I’ve got the right place?”

  “You do,” she said. “The Doughertys are guests.”

  “They’ll get delivered tonight?”

  “I’ll deliver them myself as soon as I can step away.”

  Tuesday, November 28, 8:15 P.M.

  After twelve years Mia should have been used to watching her little sister walk across the visitation area in a prison uniform. Kelsey dropped into the chair, waiting.

  Mia picked up the phone on her side of the Plexiglas and after a moment’s hesitation, Kelsey did the same. “He’s buried,” Mia said and Kelsey’s lips quirked up.

  “I should hope so. He’d be pretty ripe by now.”

  Mia’s own mouth curved sadly. “I wish you’d been there.”

  “Dana was there for you.”

  “Yeah. She was and I’m grateful for it. But I needed you.”

  Kelsey’s eyes flickered. “I would have been there for you. Not for him.”

  It was understandable. “I know.”

  “Why are you here, M?” It was always “M.” Never “Mia.” Kelsey took pains to keep herself removed in case somebody inside recognized Mia for the cop she was. Fortunately there was no family resemblance to link them. Kelsey looked like their mother, while Mia was the image of Bobby Mitchell. He’d been a blond charmer in his younger days, blinking those blue eyes to look sincere when the occasion called for it. Mia had always suspected he’d been a ladies’ man. Now she knew for sure.

  “Something happened you need to know about. When I got to the cemetery the day of Bobby’s funeral...” She could see the small headstone in her mind. It had been a cold shock. One more betrayal to add to all those that had come before. “The plot next to him had already been taken.”

  Kelsey tilted her head back, her eyes narrowing. “By good old Liam.”

  Mia’s mouth dropped open. Finally she found her voice. “You knew?”

  Kelsey’s brows lifted, her eyes cool. “You didn’t? Interesting.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Found a picture in a box in his closet when I was looking for money once. Cute kid, sitting in our chair. The ‘true heir’ to the kingdom.”

  Mia was floored. “I found the box when I was going through his suits for the funeral home. I didn’t open it until I got home from the cemetery. I saw Liam’s name on the gravestone on the plot next to Bobby’s when I got to the cemetery for the burial. Until that moment, I had no idea Liam even existed.” Liam Charles Mitchell, Beloved Son.

  A shadow passed over Kelsey’s face. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have wanted you to find out that way. I really thought you knew. So what did she do?”

  “She” was their mother. “At the cemetery? She zoned out.” Later, she’d talked. Mia hadn’t been patient with her mother. It would be a long time before the two of them spoke cordially again. That should bother me more than it does. “He was born when I was ten months old. He died a year later. I checked Liam’s birth certificate. It said his mother was a Bridget Condon.”

  “I know.”

  Mia blinked. “Bobby told you?”

  Kelsey lifted a shoulder. “I waited till he was drunk one day and asked him.”

  Mia closed her eyes. “Which time was that?”

  “Just before Christmas when I was thirteen.”

  Mia remembered. “You had to get six stitches in your lip.”

  “And she told the hospital I’d fallen off my skateboard.”

  It was their mother’s way. Juggle emergency rooms, juggle the lies. Anything to keep the secret. “Hell, Kelsey.”

  “It’s done, M. He’s in his own private hell now.”

  “He gave the baby his name.” It had been bothering Mia for three weeks.

  “He’d moved in with Bridget. He was going to marry the mother of his son.”

  “He was going to leave us because Bridget had a son. And Annabelle didn’t.”

  “And he came back after the baby died.”

  “Yeah. I know. Annabelle told me that much.” After Mia had confronted her after the funeral, in the privacy of her mother’s house. “And Annabelle took him back.”

  “And nine months later, out popped me. Another girl.”

  “He rejected two children because neither of them had a dick.” She clenched her teeth on a wave of fury. “All those years I tried to please him. Appease him.” Mia sighed. “So what do you know about the other daughter?”

  Kelsey blinked. “Excuse me?”

  Mia blinked back. “At the cemetery... I saw a woman. She looked like me, just a little younger. She had my eyes.” Bobby’s eyes. “It was uncanny.”

  Kelsey was clearly at a loss. “That I didn’t know. Can’t help you there, M.”

  “Well, thanks for believing me at least. I know it sounds crazy.”

  “You’ve never lied to me.” Kelsey sat back, considering. “So there are three of us misbegotten non-male spawn.”

  “That we know of. Maybe more. God knows how many times he tried for a boy.”

  Kelsey’s lips quirked in amusement. “Well, it looks like Bobby shot mostly X’s. No little Y’s to make little Bobbys.”

  Mia smiled, despite the weight on her shoulders. “God, I miss you.”

  K
elsey swallowed, hard. “Stop. Don’t make me...” She drew a breath, took a surreptitious glance side to side. “It’s like blood in the water, M.”

  “You come up for parole again in three months.”

  “Like I don’t know the exact time to the minute? It won’t do any good.”

  “I’ll be there. I promise.”

  “You’ve always been there, every hearing. And I’m grateful. But Shayla Kaufmann is always there, too, and her grief carries more weight than your good words.”

  Mia clenched her fist. “It’s been twelve years, Kelsey.”

  “But her husband and son are still dead.”

  “You didn’t shoot them. The store video showed it clearly.” Kelsey had stood there, her hand shaking so bad she’d nearly dropped the gun. Her boyfriend Stone had done the shooting and was serving life without parole. Kelsey had cooperated, earning her a deal. Eight to twenty-five. At the time, Mia had been relieved Kelsey’s sentence hadn’t been stiffer. Twelve years later, Mia knew exactly how slowly time could pass.

  Kelsey’s face was immobile, but her eyes had darkened with a torment she rarely let Mia see. “I didn’t shoot, but I stood there while Stone did. I didn’t do anything to save that man and his son. That father’s last action was to shield his son with his own body.” She held herself rigid and focused on a point over Mia’s shoulder and Mia knew they were both thinking that was something their own father never would have done.

  “Dammit, Kelsey, you were young. Scared. You were high.”

  “I was guilty.” Her lips trembled and she pursed them. “And I still am.”

  Mia bit the inside of her cheek, hard. “I’ll still be there at the parole hearing.”

  Kelsey’s eyes closed for a long moment and when she opened them, they were again cool and detached. “I hear you took a bullet, kid.”

  The subject of parole was now closed. “Yeah. Two weeks ago.”

  “How’s your pal?”

  “Abe? He’s in the hospital, but he’ll be okay.”

  “Don’t drop your guard.” One side of her mouth lifted. “You’re the only one who ever comes to visit me in here. I’d hate for anything to happen to you.”

  Mia cleared her throat. “Okay.”

  “Oh, yeah. And tell Dana I said thanks, but no thanks.”