Crime Of The Heart

by Allie Harrison

  “The police should be here any minute,” he replied, intentionally changing the subject and letting her know that he wasn’t going to share any of it with her.

  Erin almost had to bite her tongue to keep from asking more questions, digging for answers as her job and instincts forced her to do. She’d get the story out of him sooner or later. That’s what made her so good at her job—her ability to get the answers she wanted. An approaching siren told her now wasn’t the time to try.

  The police soon arrived, and Erin felt she was being invaded once again. First by an unknown intruder, then by a swarm of men in uniform who swept through the house with fingerprint powder.

  Erin and Lee followed the police back into the house, answering their questions as best as they could. They told the approximate time they arrived and what they found. Just inside the kitchen, they stopped.

  “Are you okay?” Lee asked her gently.

  Erin had to swallow before she could answer. “Yes,” she lied. “It’s just easier pretending this is happening to someone else.” Then she couldn’t stop herself and reached out to grasp Lee’s hand again. The two of them stood in the kitchen, hands linked, and watched the cops do their job.

  Several of the uniformed men knew Lee and greeted him, asking if he was back at work. He shrugged them off and turned the conversation back to the ransacked rooms.

  “You want to be a part of this, don’t you?” Erin asked Lee softly. “You’d like to take over this investigation, wouldn’t you?” She met his gaze and found that she didn’t need an answer, it was so clearly written in his eyes.

  “Yes,” he admitted. “I only wish this wasn’t happening to you.”

  But Lee wasn’t in charge. And all he could do was offer what little comfort his hand linked with Erin’s could give. Any closer than that and he feared he’d take her in his arms and try to sweep her away from the mess so she wouldn’t feel any more pain. Besides, searching for evidence at the crime scene in a break-in like this wasn’t his specialty.

  A young officer with blond hair approached them, carrying a clipboard. “Ms. Flemming?”

  “Yes?” Erin didn’t move away from Lee.

  “I’m Officer Ollin. I’ll need you to walk through the house with me so we can take an inventory of whatever’s missing,” he said.

  Erin knew this was the procedure. Just another necessary step in the investigation to find out who might have done this. Still, Erin didn’t want to let go of Lee’s hand. She wanted him close to her.

  But she had to face the fact that he was only here because he’d agreed to protect her. Nothing more. It was only a job. And it didn’t include protecting her from the pain of what lay ahead. On legs that felt like rubber, she left Lee and followed Officer Ollin.

  But her thoughts weren’t on answering Officer Ollin’s questions about the vandalism or whatever might be missing. They were on the man she’d just left. Her hand was still warm from holding his. Fighting the urge to go running back to him, she licked her parched lips and made an effort to pay attention.

  “Do you know if anything’s missing?” Ollin asked.

  “It’s kind of hard to tell in all this mess,” she muttered.

  “I know, but if you could try, it would help us out. If you really don’t notice anything missing, this is no longer a robbery. It’s breaking and entering and destruction of property.”

  “I realize that.” Erin stared at the destruction all around her, seeing so much more than broken glass and sofa stuffing. She saw holidays and Sundays spent on the sofa watching football with her family. Tears stung her eyes again, and Erin did her best to keep them at bay. She took a deep breath and tried to look at the scene with her reporter’s eye and not let it touch her personally. But it was impossible. No matter how much she forced herself to see past the lifetime of memories smashed on the floor, her gaze continued to be drawn to the broken crystal figure of Cupid. Erin had kept it with her, putting it near her computer now that she was no longer sharing Lee’s bed. She could see from where she stood that the chubby legs were broken off as was the arrow in his bow.

  “I don’t see my tape recorder,” she murmured, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

  Officer Ollin made a note on the clipboard.

  “The answering machine is gone, too,” Erin told him. “And I don’t see my disks,” she added, checking out the smashed computer on the floor.

  “What was on them?” Ollin asked.

  “Nothing. They were all new. I hadn’t used them yet.” She absently wiped her hand across her face and was surprised to find her cheek moist with what must have been tears. Quickly she swiped them away.

  Erin spent the next half hour going through the house, feeling as empty and hollow as a ghost. With Officer Ollin beside her, she tried to spot anything else that was missing. They moved upstairs, where Erin discovered her bedroom wasn’t in quite the same shambles, but had clearly been searched.

  When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw Lee working with a uniformed officer he called Stan. They were doing something to one of the drawers on the desk. It seemed as though Lee knew she was not far from the doorway, despite the fact that she hadn’t said a word since coming down. He looked up at her, meeting her gaze. They could get lost, she thought. Just the two of them. They could get lost in the look that passed between them and the rest of the world could fade away, taking the pain and frustration and fear and insecurity with it, leaving only the two of them.

  Then Lee turned back to the desk and the spell was broken. The rest of the world wasn’t about to disappear, no matter how much Erin wished it could.

  Another officer approached and addressed Ollin. “We checked out the grounds and the guest house and the dock. There’s no evidence that the intruders were anywhere but in the house,” he said.

  “All right,” Ollin said, leading Erin back into the living room. “Let’s get things wrapped up.”

  Finally able to get away from him, Erin crossed the room, trying to ignore the debris that crunched under her steps, and sank into what had been her father’s easy chair. Crossing her arms over her chest, she absently tried to rub some warmth into herself. The house that had always been home to her now felt so different, so alien, so cold. Even the week after her father had left to retire in Florida, the house hadn’t felt so cold and empty. By sitting in her father’s old chair, Erin hoped that something so familiar would give her comfort. Closing her eyes, she thought she had never felt so alone in her life.

  “Drink this.”

  She looked up to meet Lee’s heated gaze once again. He held out a mug.

  “Hot chocolate,” he said when she didn’t respond. “I found it in the kitchen. I couldn’t see any instant coffee. Ollin said I could touch things in the kitchen so I made you a cup,” he explained, the fire of his gaze seeming to be the only warmth in the room. “There isn’t much food out there, Erin. Have you been eating anything at all?”

  “I picked up a few things on my last trip to the grocery store. Don’t worry, Lee, I’m smart enough not to starve,” she snapped. Things were starting to get to her, she realized. She knew she should try to shake them away, but she didn’t seem to have any strength left to stand up and face them head-on. She felt suddenly drained from everything that had happened in the past few days. And since she couldn’t take any of it out on the person ultimately responsible, she took it out on the next best thing—Liam McGrey.

  “I never said you weren’t,” he said, his voice sounding as unruffled and calm as Lake Michigan on a beautiful summer day.

  And why shouldn’t he be calm? None of this was happening to him. He wasn’t getting crank phone calls. No one was chasing him down in a parking garage. No one was ransacking his domain. He probably didn’t give a damn about that poor little Cupid over there on the floor.

  “Drink this,” he said again, pushing the mug at her.

  She thought for a fraction of a second about refusing him, just to see what he would do, just to
give him a taste of what it was like when things in your life didn’t go as expected. But she knew he was persistent and almost always got whatever he wanted merely because he went after it.

  Oh, yes, she remembered he could be very persistent when there was something he wanted. And he would do whatever it took to get what he wanted, too. Like the time he wanted her to wear a little black dress to a New Year’s Eve dance instead of the red dress she’d put on. He’d kissed her until they were both hotter than fire, and then easily peeled off that little red dress. He’d made love to her. Wild, passionate love that she felt she’d never know again. They’d ended up late for the dance, but she was wearing the black outfit because the red one was in a wrinkled heap on the floor near the bed.

  Damn, why did she have to remember this? And why couldn’t he have been as persistent when it had come to her leaving him? Yes, he’d asked her to talk to him, but he had never really asked her to stay. Why couldn’t he have been just a bit more persistent when it came to his job? She hated his having to leave her for days on end when he was protecting someone else, when he couldn’t even call her and let her know he was all right. Why?

  Because he hadn’t cared whether she’d stayed or not....

  She took the mug from him, holding it tightly so he wouldn’t notice how her hands were shaking.

  “Why doesn’t your father sell this place or at least rent out the guest house or something?” Lee asked. “It’s an awful lot for you to take care of all by yourself, isn’t it?”

  “Because it would be too painful to get rid of everything here, I guess. Like all this furniture and the things he kept of my mother after she died. He took some of it with him when he went to live in Florida, but he left a lot. Besides, he still spends most of the hottest part of the summer up here, as do all three of my brothers. Arnie just bought a new sailboat so he could teach his kids how to sail next summer,” she replied before taking a soothing swallow of warm chocolate. It did taste good going down.

  Lee let his thoughts drift to her brother, Arnie, even though his gaze never left her. Arnie had been the wild, fun-loving one, with two little kids at the time Erin had left Lee. Two little boys who seemed as rambunctious as their father, with the sparkling emerald eyes so common in the Flemming family. How much had they changed in the months he and Erin were apart?

  God, it had been almost a year, he thought. Or it would be in June. A year lost. How could time go so slowly and yet so fast at the same time?

  Hell, he was only thirty-one. But he’d somehow lost nearly a year. And he felt as though he had somehow lost much more than just time. He couldn’t even remember doing much, except for exercising his leg. He’d done a great deal of that.

  “Still, the house is pretty big for just one person and the guest house is sitting empty for a good part of the year,” Lee persisted, pushing the thoughts of her family out of his mind, a family that had welcomed him as one of their own. Talk of family made this too personal. And he wasn’t going to get personal. Personal meant getting close. Lee had no intention of getting close. If he did, she might worry about him, and he didn’t want that, he thought sarcastically.

  Even if it was hard to look at her and keep from getting hit right where it became personal.

  “I pay two sisters, Martha and Gertie Madison, to come in once a week to clean and dust. During the summer, I pay the Harrington boys to do the yard work. And my father has been known to rent the guest house out to friends and associates from time to time. Besides, there haven’t been any problems until now,” she added. “Until I started with this story...”

  Officer Ollin came by just in time to hear the latter part of Erin’s explanation. “When were the Madison sisters here last?” he asked.

  “On Monday,” Erin told him.

  “Did you see them, or talk to them at all?” the officer continued.

  “Yes and yes,” she replied, taking another long swallow of chocolate:

  “So you think this has something to do with a story you’re working on for the newspaper, and it’s not just a random break-in?” Ollin persisted.

  “It’s possible,” Lee returned.

  Ollin was writing everything down. Nodding slowly, he didn’t look up as he asked the next question. “What story?”

  “Actually, it’s not really a story yet. I was just checking out a man by the name of Forest Burke,” Erin offered.

  Ollin went on writing. “Checking him out how?” He briefly looked up.

  Erin shrugged lightly. “I put his name in my computer and I called his office. That’s as far as I got.” She looked as though she’d been put through the wringer once or twice. And Lee felt for her, even though he tried not to. He knew she was doing her best to stay strong—or at least to appear strong—in her efforts to handle this latest offense. But he could see in her eyes it was a battle she was losing little by little.

  He wanted to get this business over with. He wanted to get her out of the house. And he didn’t know how much longer she could put on a good front. But Ollin’s questions continued, and Erin answered all of them, explaining everything from the murder she witnessed to coming to Lee for help. Ollin just wrote in his notes and gave nothing more than an empathetic expression—one that said, “Well, we’ll do all we can, but gee, I don’t really know for sure if it will help you.”

  “So you think this Forest Burke doesn’t want you sticking your reporter’s nose into his business?” Ollin asked. “And that’s why someone broke in here and smashed your computer?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just a guess,” Erin replied, sounding tired. “Maybe even just a gut feeling,” she added under her breath.

  “Are we about finished?” Lee asked, wanting more than ever to get her out of there.

  Whoever was following Erin could be watching them all, and Lee wanted to get her someplace warm and safe, wanted to protect her and shelter her from danger. And he told himself there was nothing personal about it, that he would want to protect anyone who was threatened. Right? Right.

  Officer Ollin took Lee’s subtle hint. “I think so. What’s your opinion of the print you and Stan got off the desk, McGrey?”

  “It’s smudged quite a bit, but hopefully your people can do something with it,” Lee said. Erin said nothing, listening quietly and trying not to get her hopes up too high.

  “The rest of the place was pretty well wiped clean. I know it isn’t much, but we have to take what little we have to go on and see where it leads. Can I reach you here, Ms. Flemming?” Ollin asked. “In case I need to ask you any more questions.”

  “She’ll be at my place,” Lee answered for her. “Here’s my card. It has my home phone number as well as my beeper number on it.” He handed Ollin his business card.

  Ollin glanced at it before slipping it into his pocket. “We’ll let you know what we find, if anything.” He took a moment to hand Erin one of his own cards. “And if you remember anything else that might help us or notice anything else missing that needs to be added to the inventory, please call me. You can reach me at this number at any time, day or night.”

  “Thank you,” Erin muttered, holding her mug of chocolate in one hand and taking the card in the other. She didn’t get up to see him out.

  A short time later, the police were gone, leaving a strange emptiness in their wake. Lee looked around only briefly, then looked at Erin, who still sat in her father’s chair. God, she looked so small, so fragile, so stunned.

  True, she’d left him, but it was because she couldn’t handle the loneliness when he was gone and she couldn’t handle the worry over the danger that came with his job. True, she’d torn his world apart by leaving, but it was for reasons he could understand. And she didn’t deserve this.

  Absently; Lee flexed his foot, hoping to stretch the ache out of his leg.

  Erin took a final drink out of the mug, then set it on the table beside her. It was one of the few pieces of furniture that had been left untouched. Her gaze never left the ransacked room
.

  “God, look at this mess,” she muttered with a long, drawn-out sigh.

  “Where’s your research?” Lee asked, hoping that a distraction would put a little spirit back into her. The Erin before him now was someone he’d never seen before, someone he didn’t know. She seemed too distracted, too defeated, too different from the woman who’d lived with him, who’d never let anything stop her, who went after a hot tip with gusto. She’d never let her emotions deter her from doing her job as a reporter.

  She looked up at him and chuckled bitterly. “Thanks to all this, I completely forgot about my notes. What if whoever did all this found them?”

  “Where did you hide it?” Lee asked, not wanting to answer her question.

  “Most of it’s in the oven,” she replied absently. “There’s more taped to the inside of the lid on the rolltop desk. The only way you can reach it is to close the top nearly all the way. You’ll have to feel for it then. The rest was on the stolen disks.”

  “I thought you said the disks were empty.”

  “The ones on the desk, next to the computer, were,” she replied without looking at him. “The two that were hidden inside that broken lamp over there weren‘t” She pointed to the smashed lamp on the floor near the sofa.

  “Why didn’t you say something before? Why didn’t you tell Ollin?” Lee asked.

  “There were too many cops here,” she said. “I know that’s not much of an explanation, but I told you before you’re the only one I trust. Besides, I was kind of hoping the lamp was merely broken, that whoever did this swept it off the table and didn’t notice the disks. But they did.”

  Lee watched her for a long moment, looking for the familiar spark she always had when her mind was on a story. But for the life of him, he couldn’t see any trace of it now.