Blood Stains

by Sharon Sala

  As predicted, the appetizers began coming, which slowed down the conversation drastically. The laughter started up at their end of the table when Amelia began bartering with Franklin for his food.

  “I’ll trade you my tabbouleh for your cabbage roll,” she offered.

  Franklin grinned. “You’ll owe me big-time. I love their cabbage rolls.”

  But he traded anyway, and laughed when the chief’s wife, Elinor, tried to pull off a similar trade, but without success.

  “Married too many years to take the threats seriously,” Burch said, and then softened his claim by giving his wife the last bite of his cabbage roll anyway.

  The meal progressed to entrées as the waiters began carrying in plates. Franklin tackled his prime rib with gusto, while the scent of Amelia’s bacon-wrapped filet teased his senses. He was in deep discussion with Harry Korn about the impact that epublishing was having on print news when a woman walked past the door leading into their dining area. Even though he only caught a glimpse, his heart skipped a beat. Was that Maria Slade? He could hardly concentrate on Harry’s tirade for watching the doorway. When she walked back a few minutes later, he breathed easier. The only resemblance was height and dark hair.

  Then he wondered to himself why it mattered. Maria Slade didn’t know him from Adam, and he had no intention of changing that fact.

  It wasn’t until the tables had been cleared and the waiters were readying for the birthday cake to be brought in that Franklin realized Korn had come to the party with an agenda.

  “Say, Burch, I heard your office is looking into another one of Frank McCall’s old cases. I thought all those had been dealt with.”

  Franklin frowned. He knew that name but couldn’t place the inference.

  Burch Westbrook arched an eyebrow, then glanced around as if to say this was hardly the place. But Korn was a news hound, and he had the chief cornered.

  “Is this going to impact the legal outcome of the case?” Korn asked.

  Burch smirked. “No, not at all.”

  Korn frowned. “How can you say that with such conviction? I mean…it’s a proven fact that McCall was dirty. He’s serving time for it.”

  “Normally that might be the case,” Burch said. “But this is actually a cold case that was just reopened, so there’s no judgment in question.”

  Franklin hid a smile as Korn visibly wilted. The front-page story Korn was probably envisioning had been mentally moved to somewhere on page ten.

  Still, Korn wasn’t ready to give it up. “So this case was never solved…. Care to talk about it?”

  “Now, Harry…I’m not going to discuss an ongoing investigation, and you know it.”

  “Okay, fine. But surely you can at least comment on which case has been reopened. It’ll become common knowledge soon enough—unless you have something to hide?”

  Franklin grinned. He had to admit, Korn was a master at getting what he wanted. Westbrook was notorious for his open and aboveboard approach to law enforcement, and was diligent in looking into anything dirty associated with the Tulsa P.D.

  “It’s not a secret,” Westbrook said. “It’s an old murder case. Dead hooker. No witnesses. No conviction. McCall just happened to be the lead officer on the case.”

  Westbrook frowned. “And you know I’m not going to discuss this any further.”

  Korn shrugged, but backed off.

  Franklin started to sweat. This was why Sally Blake’s daughter had come back. Obviously she was pressuring the P.D. to reopen her mother’s murder case. But why? And why now?

  Everyone started to clap. It took him a few moments to realize that they were carrying in the birthday cake.

  Amelia elbowed him. He turned toward the front of the room and made himself smile as he joined in, but his joy in the evening had been dampened.

  A token candle was lit. Joe blew it out. His wife stood up, then lifted her wineglass.

  “Happy birthday, my darling husband,” she said brightly. “And here’s to many more of the same.”

  “Hear! Hear!” the guests shouted, and the evening continued, with cake and coffee being served.

  Franklin went through the motions, but he’d already lost focus. All he could think about was calling Ed Underwood and finding out what he’d learned.

  Maria was still reeling from her breakdown. She’d talked to Bud, who’d assured her that Savannah and Holly were fine, and then he’d pushed her for details she didn’t have. His main question had been when would she be coming home. Having to tell him that she didn’t know had been difficult, when all she really wanted to do was pack up and leave. But the more she learned about Sally Blake, the more of a connection she began to feel. The knowledge that her mother’s last words had been on her behalf sat heavily on her heart. And her inability to remember their bond left her with, among other things, a huge dose of guilt.

  She’d changed into sweats and a clean tee, then crawled into bed and leafed through her journal until she found the notations Andrew had left during the year she’d turned twelve.

  Christmas: Five feet of snow outside. Holly fell coming up the steps this morning and made her nose bleed. When we heard her crying, we all ran out…you, Savannah, your mother and I. We were all concerned with Holly and didn’t realize what was happening to you. We didn’t know you hadn’t come back in with everyone else until your mother missed you. I went back outside and found you standing in the blood with a blank expression on your face. I called your name several times, but you never responded. It frightened me, thinking you were going to regress to the child you’d been when you first came to live with us, but by the time we got your shoes cleaned, you had snapped out of it.

  I watched you for days afterward, trying to see if there were any signs that you were beginning to remember, but, sadly, it was as if it had never happened.

  Maria shut the journal and laid it aside, then leaned back against the headboard and closed her eyes.

  “Help me, Lord,” she whispered. “Help me. The answers are in me. Help me find them again.”

  She slid down beneath the covers and rolled over on her side. Today had been exhausting and, in an odd kind of way, so very sad. Sam Vincent was as lost in his own way as she was. It seemed as if he’d never been able to move on. It was obvious that his sister, Becky, had cared for her. But she felt no emotional connection to either of them, which made her feel guilty all over again.

  The only good part about this entire day had been Bodie Scott. In any other circumstance, he would be the kind of man she would be interested in knowing. But she was just a case to him, and the sooner she got over the fantasy that anything else could be possible, the better off she would be. Defeated in ways she’d never known, Maria pulled the covers up beneath her chin and fell asleep.

  It was almost 10:30 p.m. and Bodie was just finishing up a report at the precinct when Lieutenant Carver came out of his office and stopped at Bodie’s desk.

  “Is that the report on the pawnshop owner?”

  Bodie nodded. The man had been gunned down only minutes after he’d dropped Maria off at the hotel. He’d spent the rest of the evening taking witness statements and then notifying the next of kin, which he hated.

  “I’m nearly through. As soon as I print it out I’ll leave a copy on your desk.”

  Phil Carver nodded, but he still lingered.

  Bodie hit Print, then looked up.

  “Anything else, sir?”

  “What happened with your cold case today? Anything lead you to believe Frank McCall sullied the case?”

  “Yes, sir. Missing info. Her pimp, Tank Vincent, was interrogated and cleared, but there was no mention of him in the file. I took Maria Slade with me, hoping that something would click when she saw some of the people from her past, but it didn’t happen.”

  Carver sat down on the corner of Bodie’s desk. “Dammit. I was afraid of something like this. Where did you go?”

  “Lake Eufaula to talk to Vincent. He runs a bait and beer shop,
and has for the past twenty years.”

  “Was he the only interrogation today?”

  “No. Turns out the woman mentioned who called the cops is the pimp’s sister. She’s a 911 dispatcher for the city of Tulsa now.”

  “Really?” Carver said. “And Miss Slade didn’t recognize or remember either of them?”

  “No, sir, but I have a plan to which she’s agreed. I’m going to try and set up an appointment for her with Dr. Rachel Stewart, that hypnotherapist the D.A. used a couple of years ago as an expert witness.”

  Carver nodded. “Might work.”

  “And it might not, but we don’t have anything to lose.”

  “You’ll let me know the results, of course,” Carver said, then added, “Someone leaked it to the press that we found another case with Frank McCall’s fingerprints on it. The chief is furious. Called me a little while ago and said Harry Korn cornered him about it at the mayor’s birthday party tonight. He read me the riot act. Told me to clear this case and clear it fast.”

  Bodie frowned. “That’s odd. Didn’t take long for it to become common knowledge. Somebody probably put two and two together when I requested Sally Blake’s file.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Carver muttered. “At any rate, the sooner we can put this to bed, the better.”

  “I’ll give Dr. Stewart a call first thing tomorrow morning and set up an appointment.”

  “Keep me informed,” Carver said, and left the room.

  A few minutes later Bodie dropped a copy of his report on the lieutenant’s desk, then headed for the elevator. He was tired and hungry, and wanted nothing more than dinner and a good night’s sleep.

  On the way down, Maria Slade popped into his brain, and as soon as he got into his car, instead of going home, he found himself back on the streets and heading for the hotel where she was staying.

  The phone was ringing. Maria rolled over and reached for the house phone, then realized it was her cell. Still groggy, she dug it out from beneath the journal and the covers, and answered without looking at the caller ID.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s me,” Bodie said. “Were you asleep?”

  “Yes.”

  He grimaced. “Damn, I’m sorry. I’ll—”

  “Don’t hang up now that you woke me,” Maria snapped. “What’s up?”

  “Obviously now you are,” Bodie said.

  “Ha, ha,” she muttered, then yawned and combed her fingers through her hair.

  “Did you eat dinner?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “I have pizza.”

  Maria’s stomach growled as she glanced at the clock. “That sounds good, but I don’t feel like getting dressed all over again.”

  “So open your door and let me in, and you won’t have to.”

  Maria’s gaze went straight to the door.

  “You’re outside my room? Right now?”

  “Look and see,” he said.

  She threw back the covers and crossed the floor on the run, then put her eye up to the peephole. Sure enough, there he was, holding a pizza box. She opened the door.

  “What kind?”

  “Sausage and mushroom.”

  “You may enter,” she drawled.

  He stepped inside, not bothering to hide his pleased expression. He set down the pizza box, then began pulling pop cans from his jacket pockets.

  “I got Pepsi from the machine down the hall.”

  “You are one fine Boy Scout, aren’t you?” Maria said.

  He laughed. The tacit reference to “being prepared” was not lost on him.

  “I have my moments,” he said. “Where do you want to sit?”

  She glanced around the room. There was one straight-back chair at the desk and one easy chair with an ottoman by the window.

  “The bed?”

  “Damn straight,” Bodie said, and toed off his boots one at a time, took a handful of napkins from the inner pocket of his jacket, tossed them on the bed and then laid his jacket over the back of a chair.

  Maria eyed his gun and shoulder holster.

  “Oh,” he said, and took the holster off and hung it by his jacket. “After you, ma’am,” he said, and gestured toward the bed.

  Maria yanked the covers back up, then crawled onto the bedspread and curled her legs up under her like a child.

  Bodie grabbed the pizza box, laid it open between them, handed her a cold Pepsi, then sat down at the foot of the mattress with his pop between his legs.

  “As my Daddy used to say, ‘bless this food to the nourishment of our bodies.’ Dig in.”

  Maria grinned. She didn’t know which she appreciated most—his foolishness and company, or the pizza and pop. But she did as he asked and took the first slice of pizza.

  The cheese was still hot and stringy, the meat warm and spicy. She plucked a mushroom off the end of her slice and popped it in her mouth, then took a big bite.

  “Oh, my gosh…this is so good,” she said, licking her thumb.

  Bodie nodded and took a huge bite of his own slice.

  For a few minutes the conversation lulled. It wasn’t until he was about to begin his fourth slice that he paused.

  “So it’s okay that I’m here? I mean…you don’t think it’s weird, me showing up like this?”

  Maria glanced up. “Yes, it’s okay. No, I don’t think it’s weird.”

  It wasn’t the declaration of adoration he would have liked to hear, but he would settle.

  “Good.”

  “But just out of curiosity, why did you come?” Maria asked.

  He wondered what she would do if he told her the whole truth, then decided a fraction of it would have to suffice.

  “I like you. I was concerned about you. I don’t like to eat alone. Feel free to choose any or all of those answers.”

  A twinge of something unnamed tugged at Maria’s heart.

  “I choose all,” she said softly, then quickly looked away.

  “Good answer,” Bodie said, then took a deep breath and another bite of pizza to keep from following through on the notion of kissing her.

  Twelve

  B odie swigged the last of his Pepsi, then eyed the lone piece of pizza growing cold in the box.

  “You gonna eat that?” he asked.

  “I’m stuffed. Knock yourself out,” Maria said.

  “No need letting it go to waste,” he said, making sure he picked the remaining cheese off the paper to go with it.

  “I need to wash my hands,” she said, and rolled off the bed and strode across the room to the bathroom.

  Bodie eyed her walk and knew that he would never be able to flaunt a pair of sweats like that. They cupped her curves while accenting her long legs and slow stride. He thought it quite gentlemanly of himself that he’d managed to ignore the fact that she was wearing that tee without a bra, then sighed with admiration as he took out half the pizza slice in one bite.

  She didn’t bother to close the door as she washed her face and hands at the sink, and didn’t think, until she was coming back into the room, how easy he was to be around.

  At that moment he looked up and grinned at her. A surge of emotion shot through her, startling her with an unexpected longing. It shook her enough that she went straight to the window instead of sitting back down on the bed with him. To her surprise, when she looked out, she could see lightning in the distance.

  “Hey! I just saw lightning. Do you think it’s going to storm?”

  There was a tinge of panic in her voice as he reached for the remote.

  “I don’t know, but we’ll soon find out,” he said, and turned on the TV, then flipped it to a local channel. “See that map of the state up in the corner?”

  Maria forgot to be wary as she hurried back to where he was sitting and sat down on the edge of the mattress beside him.

  “Yes, I see it. What county are we in?”

  Bodie pointed to Tulsa County. “That’s us…right here. So if they change the color of the county from
yellow to red, that means the county has gone from a storm warning to a tornado warning, okay?”

  The concern was still in her voice when she said, “We don’t have tornadoes in Montana much.”

  “Don’t be scared,” Bodie said. “The city will blow sirens if it gets really bad.”

  “Then what?” she asked.

  “Then you grab some shoes and get to the lowest level, which means the ground floor. Use the stairs, not the elevator. Sometimes the power goes off, and you don’t want to get stuck. They’ll show you where to go once you’re down in the lobby, but if you get confused, the best thing to do is get to an inner room, like a bathroom, and stay away from windows.”

  “Lord,” Maria muttered.

  “It’ll be okay,” Bodie said.

  “You don’t know that,” she muttered.

  He grinned, and without thinking, he slipped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick hug.

  “You’re right. I don’t. But it sounded good, didn’t it?”

  He’d made her laugh.

  “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you, Bodie Scott?”

  It was the sound of her laughter that hooked him. His gaze locked on her lips, and as hard as he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to look away. He knew she was still talking, because her lips were moving, but he didn’t hear a word. All he could think about was kissing her. Then, before he knew it, he was leaning forward. When she didn’t move back, he captured those unheard words with a kiss.

  Maria inhaled sharply, but she didn’t flinch. When his lips centered softly on hers, she responded by leaning into the kiss.

  Time stood still up to the moment when the kiss began to morph into wanting more.

  She shuddered.

  He groaned.

  At that point they both broke contact and pulled back.

  The look that passed between them was one of shock and then discomfort. To Maria’s relief, Bodie took the initiative and smoothed over what could have been a very uncomfortable moment.

  “Thanks for the dessert,” he said softly, then flipped his finger beneath her chin. “I’ve got an early day tomorrow, and you’ve had a hard day. I think we both need to get some sleep.”