Dangerous Liaisons

by Maggie Price

  “What about defense wounds on either victim?”

  “The M.E. didn’t find any.”

  “Which means both were taken by surprise.” Whitney tilted her head. “Have you checked the repairman angle yet?”

  “Gianos and Smith are on it. They’re looking at phone records to see if either victim made recent calls for any kind of service. They’re also asking associates if either man mentioned that something they owned had gone on the fritz and they’d called someone to make repairs. So far, nothing.”

  “I take it you’ve been focusing on the people who knew both victims.”

  “Yeah.” Jake rolled his shoulders in an attempt to ease the knots of tension that had settled there earlier. Despite her inopportune arrival, he was glad to have Whitney back on the job. They’d worked the streets together, risen in the ranks alongside each other. As a team, they operated in seamless harmony, often communicating by looks alone. So far, their clearance rate on homicides was nothing to sneeze at.

  “Quite a few people knew both Ormiston and Villanova,” Jake continued. “Two being Rhonda Livingston and Ingrid Nelson, the women who showed up on both men’s perfect match lists.”

  “And whom you get to sit and sip drinks with tomorrow night at an elegant club while I huddle in a cramped van, eavesdropping on your conversation.”

  Jake grinned at the disdain in her voice. “I got the rough part of the assignment, but I live to serve.”

  “Don’t we all,” Whitney murmured. “Has anyone made contact with Livingston and Nelson?”

  “Gianos and Smith interviewed them this morning. The only thing that remotely looks suspicious is that Nelson’s a physical therapist, working out of Mercy Hospital. That could give her access to whatever substance it was the killer injected into Ormiston and Villanova. We can’t take that connection any further until the M.E. gets back to us with the tox results.”

  Whitney nodded. “What about Livingston?”

  “She’s a Realtor.” Jake shrugged. “Not much to go on there, at least until I meet her.”

  “So the lonely hearts are on hold for now. Who else is on our suspect list?”

  “Who isn’t?” Jake asked as he steered around a corner. “We’ve got Sebastian Peck, an Apollo clone who charts biorhythms and can spot a muddy aura from a dozen paces.”

  “I take it this is Nicole’s ‘Sebastian’?”

  Jake narrowed his eyes. “The same. You ever meet him?”

  “No, she’s just mentioned he’s her personal trainer.”

  “Who’d like to get a lot more personal where she’s concerned. Word is, Peck got a visit from the green-eyed monster whenever Villanova hung out with Nicole at the gym.”

  “Did you ask Peck about that?”

  “Yeah. The bastard didn’t deny it.”

  Whitney arched a dark eyebrow. “Is the sneer I hear in your voice coming from the detached cop or the man who has some personal involvement with a certain witness in this case?”

  “Maybe both,” Jake shot back. “I caught the Viking health-god in a lie. He turns around and accuses me of being cynical and absurd. You show me a homicide cop who brings an attitude of good cheer to the job and I’ll show you a cop who has something wrong with him.”

  “You have a point,” Whitney said. “So, jealousy over Nicole is a possible motive for Peck to have killed Villanova. What reason did the Viking have to off Ormiston?”

  Jake ran down the argument between Peck and Ormiston over steroids. “So far, it doesn’t sound like Ormiston had proof that Peck supplied the late Eddie Denson with steroids,” Jake added. “The whole thing’s conjecture on Ormiston’s part.”

  “But enough to go to Denson’s parents. Witnesses stated road rage was involved in their son’s death. That condition could have been brought on by steroids. All Ormiston needed to do was put that bug in the parents’ ears and they could have sued Peck for reckless endangerment.”

  “He could lose everything he owns and face jail time.”

  Whitney tapped a fingernail against the file folder. “So we’ve got Sebastian Peck with a motive to kill both Ormiston and Villanova. Does he have alibis for the time of both murders?”

  “Yeah, and they suck. He claims he was alone in his office. That’s convenient since there’s a door that gives him access to a hallway two steps from an elevator and a staircase.”

  “Well, Peck’s toward the top of the suspect list. Who else?”

  “Nicole’s ex, Cole Champion.”

  Whitney’s eyes widened. “Now, there’s a man I’ve heard all about.”

  “From Nicole?”

  “No, Bill. He detests the guy. I don’t blame him, considering his baby sister came home and found the creep and some waitress going at it on her own dining room table.” Whitney shoved a length of auburn hair behind one shoulder. “How does Champion fit in with this case?”

  “He sells Cadillacs at Villanova’s dealership. Champion claims he liked his boss and they got along—I haven’t been able to shake that yet. All I know is that I bunked on Nicole’s couch last night on the chance whoever it was who gave her a concussion showed up to finish her off. Isn’t it curious that Champion let himself into her apartment this morning, using a key she didn’t know he had?”

  As he spoke, Jake tightened his grip on the steering wheel. No way was he going to mention that the guy had broken up an even hotter embrace between Nicole and himself than the one Whitney had walked in on less than an hour ago.

  “What reason did Champion give for being there?”

  “He said he’d heard his boss had died, but couldn’t find out more than that. He wanted Nicole to call Bill and get details.”

  “Oh, yeah, Bill would have jumped at the chance to do Champion a favor after the way he treated Nicole,” Whitney responded dryly. “What’s Champion’s connection with the other victim, Ormiston?”

  “Villanova and Ormiston worked out together at Sebastian’s. Ormiston needed to buy some stretch limos for his funeral home operation. Villanova worked him a deal, had Champion do the paperwork.” Jake scowled. “I haven’t come up with a reason for Champion to have killed Ormiston. So far.”

  “What about Villanova? What would Champion’s motive have been to kill the boss he claimed he liked?”

  “Nicole,” Jake stated. “I watched Champion while he was at her apartment this morning. The guy’s still in love with her.”

  “He breaks the vows he made to her by bringing some floozy into Nicole’s own home, and you think the creep still loves her?”

  “Doesn’t fly with me, either, unless I tie it to what Nicole says about him.”

  “Which is?”

  “Champion’s incapable of being faithful to anyone—just doesn’t have it in him. After she figured that out, Nicole forgave him. Now they’ve got what in her mind is a comfortable friendship.”

  “But you think it’s more than that to Champion?”

  “I saw him watching her, Whit. It’s a hell of a lot more. He wants her so bad he can taste it. Nicole told me he dropped by her office one day while Villanova was there. If the Latino looked at her the same way he did at your wedding, Champion would have known Villanova was interested. Maybe Champion took offense at that.” Jake raised a hand. “Hey, I know the motive’s thin, but it can happen. We’ve worked cases where someone died for the simple reason that somebody else got jealous.”

  “More than a few cases.” Whitney blew out a breath. “Okay, Champion’s on the list, a little lower than the Viking, at least until—and if—we come up with a motive for him to have killed Ormiston. Anyone else on the list?”

  “Mel Hall.”

  “Sweet, efficient, gorgeous Mel?”

  Jake scowled at the description of Nicole’s assistant. “Yeah, gorgeous Mel the Magnificent.”

  “What’s his motive to kill?”

  “Nothing solid, just that he knew both victims.” Jake angled his chin. “Ormiston had complained because Nicole hadn’t yet found a woman
whom he considered his perfect match. He was vocal about it. Mel wouldn’t have liked that. He acts like a puppy dog, but if Nicole gets hurt, he’ll snap back—I saw that firsthand last night at the hospital.”

  “Your report said Ormiston changed his mind and called to extend his contract with Meet Your Match. Mel took that call, ordered the basket of muffins to thank him. Mel would have known the guy had changed his tune.”

  “Good point.”

  “What about alibis?”

  “Mel claims he was at home, taking care of his sick mother when each murder went down.”

  “Won’t she verify that?”

  “Mel says she’s too sick to do anything. Convenient.”

  “So, magnificent Mel’s toward the bottom of our list.”

  “Right.”

  Whitney glanced out the windshield as Jake pulled the cruiser to a halt at the brick guardhouse outside the Stonebridge gated community. “What are we looking for at Ormiston’s house?”

  “Financial records,” Jake said. He rolled down his window, flashed his badge at the guard on duty. Seconds later, Jake inched the cruiser forward while the massive wrought-iron gate drifted open. “Sebastian Peck claims Ormiston was angry over an investment he’d made that went bad.”

  “Any idea what it was?”

  Jake shook his head. “I’ve asked around, but haven’t come up with anything. Even Ormiston’s son doesn’t have a clue. He gave me the keys to the house so we can check his father’s files.”

  “I shudder to think we might find something here that gives us reason to add another person to our suspect list.” Whitney laid the file with the others on the seat between them. “We get any more suspects and motives, we’ll have to get a secretary to keep track of them all.”

  “Tell me about it,” Jake stated. “I guess it’s occurred to you that I’m glad your days of lazing on some Mexican beach are over. I’ve had my hands full with this and the Quintero case.”

  “Any luck on tracking down Cárdenas?” Whitney asked.

  “Not yet. I’m putting pressure on that worthless snitch, Lira, to get me a lead on Cárdenas’s girlfriend. Once I find her and she admits to witnessing the murder, I’ll have Cárdenas.”

  “We’ll have him, partner,” Whitney corrected him as the cruiser slid along the street lined with massive, elegant houses.

  Jake grinned. “Yeah, we’ll.”

  Whitney angled her head. “For the record, whatever’s going on between you and Nicole is fine by me.”

  Jake eased out a breath. He’d known Whitney would detour back to that. Because he loved her like a sister, he let her.

  “Maybe it’s fine by you, but not your husband.”

  “Bill might have some reservations about you being with Nicole. He’ll get over them.”

  Jake thought about Bill Taylor’s cold stare when he’d walked in on him kissing his sister like a sex-crazed maniac. Jake hadn’t seen any questions in the A.D.A.’s eyes—he already knew the answers. And he didn’t like them.

  “Your husband was there when I got charged with eight counts of murder. Today he sees me with my hands and mouth on his sister. I don’t have to tell you what he thinks.”

  “Jake—”

  “Bill doesn’t need to worry. Nothing’s going on between Nicole and me.” Jake tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Dammit, Whit, neither of us wants anything to go on.”

  “From what I saw, there’s plenty going on between you and Nicole. And both of you appeared willing.”

  “What you saw doesn’t mean anything.”

  “You and Nicole decided to lock lips just to pass the time? Get real, Ford.”

  His teeth grinding, Jake whipped the cruiser into the driveway of the house where Phillip Ormiston had died two days ago. Leaving the engine idling and the air conditioner blowing, he shifted in his seat and met his partner’s gaze.

  “Nicole got burned by Champion. She says she’s reacting to me the same way she did to him when they met—going with emotion instead of using her brain. I agree with that. If she was doing any kind of rational thinking, she’d steer clear of me.”

  “I disagree.”

  “Dammit, Whit, you know better than anybody how much I don’t want a relationship. I told Nicole that. I don’t want to get involved with any woman ever again.”

  “What I know is that you put up a wall around yourself when Annie and the twins died.”

  “Do you blame me?”

  “No. I also know that you can’t live alone for the rest of your life. Some people can do that, but you’re not one of them. You need a wife, Jake. Family. It’s time to lower that wall.”

  “Time?” he shot back. Even now he tasted the despair that had engulfed him as he’d stood alone at an empty grave, staring at a granite marker bearing the names of the wife and daughters he loved more than life. “Time to fall in love again and hope this go-around my wife doesn’t board a plane carrying a bomb in its belly? Time for another try at fatherhood, while I keep my fingers crossed that my next two kids live to see their first birthdays?”

  “Oh, Jake.” Eyes filled with compassion, Whitney gripped his hand.

  If it had been anybody else but her, he’d have jerked away. Not from Whitney. They’d been through too much together, shared too much.

  “No one should have to endure what you did. And it’s understandable why you want to hold on to your grief.”

  “I’m not holding on—”

  “Because as long as you do, it’s an excuse for not opening your heart to anyone else. Not risking again.” She tightened her hand on his. “Grief is like any other emotion, Jake. It eases with time, whether you want it to or not.”

  He turned his head and stared at the massive brick house in front of them. She was right, he acknowledged. The vi cious grief that had ripped at him after he’d lost his family had transformed over time to a dull ache.

  “When I was in Nicole’s office today, I told her about Annie and the twins,” he said, almost to himself. “I didn’t mean to. Sure as hell didn’t plan to.” He met Whitney’s solemn gaze. “You and the department’s shrink—you’re the only ones I talk to about my family. I told Nicole about them and I don’t know why.”

  The corners of Whitney’s mouth lifted. “Do you think you’re falling in love with her?”

  “Hell, no.” He realized too late his denial had been too forceful, too instant. “Nicole matters, okay? I don’t know how much. Don’t want to know.”

  “You’re going to have to figure out how you feel about her. Then you’ll have to deal with those feelings.”

  “The time to do that isn’t now.” He pulled his hand from beneath Whitney’s, gave her a stern look. “Subject’s closed, Taylor, so just shove it out of your mind.”

  “Sure thing.” She pursed her lips. “Wanna bet I’ll be able to do that a lot easier than you?”

  “I only bet when I’ve got a chance to win,” Jake muttered.

  Over the next two days, Nicole buried her churning frustration under long hours of work. Always in the past, keeping busy had been the best cure when she found herself unsettled. Right now, she was so unsettled over Jake Ford that she rattled.

  The comments she’d gotten from her big brother at his seeing her in a no-holds-barred clench with Jake hadn’t helped her nerves. Oh, Bill had been calm when he’d knocked on the door of the guest room he and Whitney had invited her to use until the police snared the killer. Using his best courtroom demeanor, Bill had asked if she was aware the man who’d been devouring her in her own office had recently been charged with not just one count of murder, but eight? Granted, Jake had been set up by the real killer, but did Nicole know that the go-to-hell lifestyle he’d been living had directly contributed to one of those deaths? Did she have any idea Jake was seeing the department shrink to deal with the tragic loss of his wife and twin daughters?

  Nicole had taken infinite satisfaction at the surprise she’d seen spark in Bill’s eyes when she’d advised
him Jake had told her about his arrest and the loss of his family. It wasn’t until she’d stood toe-to-toe with her big brother, poked her finger in his chest and informed him she would kiss whatever man she chose, where and when she chose, that he’d reminded her she’d traveled down the same slippery road with Cole Champion.

  Maybe she had forgotten how much her ex-husband had hurt her, but he hadn’t, Bill said, cupping his palm to her cheek. Was she sure her getting involved with Jake Ford wouldn’t lead to more heartache?

  With that question echoing in her brain, Nicole propped her elbows on her desk and dropped her face in her hands.

  No, she wasn’t sure. Not of anything. Especially of her feelings for Jake. She suspected if she allowed herself to examine them, she would discover she was close to falling in love. Just the thought lodged a hot knot of fear in her throat. How could she trust her own judgment when the one time she’d gone with emotion she’d wound up with a man who’d broken every vow he’d made to her? How could she have taken such care with her heart for so long, then let a tall, handsome cop who didn’t want to make promises or expect them sweep away all her good intentions?

  She hadn’t seen Jake since he and Whitney had left her office two days ago. Reports Nicole had received this morning from two of her firm’s counselors attested that Jake had met both Rhonda Livingston and Ingrid Nelson last night for drinks at Encounters. According to both counselors, their clients had oozed excitement over the fictitious Jake England.

  Nicole squeezed her eyes shut against the twin images of Jake sharing a drink with the gorgeous redhead, then the slinky brunette. He was doing his job, she told herself. Someone had killed two of her clients; the police were conducting an undercover operation that involved several other clients. With so much going on, it was no wonder she, as owner of Meet Your Match, had tossed and turned the past two nights.

  Since the police had things under control, nothing remained for her to do but get a handle on her own emotions. The pounding in her heart and melting in her bones she felt whenever Jake got near were sensations she knew were not to be trusted.