Georgia went on, “That means, of course, you’d have to actually tell your parents you are considering other options for your future besides engineering.”
“I don’t want to,” the girl confessed, slumping in her chair. “My dad will freak.”
“It seems to me that your dad cares enough about how you feel that he arranged for you to come see me and pays for our time together. I certainly can’t promise he won’t be disappointed, because those are his feelings and not mine, but you might be surprised. Avoiding the problem will not make it go away.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Cindy didn’t look happy, but at least she wasn’t so sullen. “You should try living through dinner at my house. I have to effing stay at the table until he finishes his coffee and ‘talk about my day.’ It’s stupid.”
“Or else maybe he’s interested in your life and well-being and wants to be a part of it. Have you considered that? I know someone who was raised by an alcoholic stepfather that kicked him out of the house before he was even out of high school.” She would never mention Santiago’s name, of course, but that information wasn’t a breach of ethics, since he was upfront about it and plenty of other people knew so it wasn’t a secret. “I believe he would have preferred to have someone care about his day.”
“And there are children starving in Africa, I know. I’ve heard that about three million times from my parents, right after they take my cell phone away for some lame reason.”
Well, Rome was definitely not built in a day, Georgia thought, but in her notes she was going for tentative progress. “Do you really think their reasons are lame or are they trying to help you learn to cope with consequences if you make a mistake so you are more prepared for life on your own? It sounds to me like you don’t want to live at home forever, and most people don’t, but it is their job, don’t you think? They want to teach you how to do it.”
“Whatever. If you can really do that cop thing I might go ahead and tell them. I think our time is done, right?”
She was no stranger to having patients—when it was getting into difficult territory—to decide to abruptly leave.
“As soon as I hear from your parents, I will see what I can do.”
Cindy left right as Georgia’s cell phone vibrated. It was an old friend from college who breezed into town now and then and wanted to get together. It was telling that she hesitated to accept the dinner invitation because she hadn’t heard yet from Carl. Maybe her session with Cindy made her revert to her own high school days. But they’d just had lunch, so …
“That sounds lovely.”
Laurie said, “Fantastic. We need to catch up. Pick the restaurant and we’ll meet you there. Reservations for three please. There’s someone I want you to meet. I’m not traveling alone this time. Bring someone too.”
She was the one to call Lieutenant Grasso. “I have an old friend in town and I think I need a date for dinner. Interested?”
It turned out to be reservations for four.
Chapter 17
Storms rolling in.
As a kid he remembered deer hunting up north with his dad when a freak winter thunderstorm broke loose and there was absolutely no place to go for shelter. The trees were clawing at the sky, the wind moaning through the branches, and the few remaining leaves were scattering and swirling around them when a big buck came bounding through the patch of woods where they were trapped and getting drenched.
He shot it. Clean too, just one bullet, and it went down like another burst of thunder. Ten points, a big boy, and his father wiped at the rain running down his face with a gloved hand as he went to kneel by the animal. Then he looked up and said, “Good kill, son.”
High praise from a man he could never seem to please in any other way.
She was home.
He’d followed her from the station, keeping well back, taking a different street now and then once he knew the direction she was headed. It was too difficult to do any surveillance in Detective Santiago’s apartment complex, since all those vigilant mamas and fathers distrusted a man sitting in his car alone, so he’d tried it once and driven away.
This quiet street was different.
* * *
She was being watched.
There was no conclusive evidence except that she sensed it, but Ellie walked swiftly toward her front door, and at the last second turned around, her hand in her jacket, gripping her weapon.
No one she could see.
It didn’t help that the sky had turned a lurid green and they were under a tornado watch. Ellie didn’t hear sirens yet, but the air was heavy and anything was possible this time of year. Thunderheads had built in the sky like monoliths all afternoon and there were rumbles in the distance. The wind had also been picking up, never a good sign.
It was spring after all. She let herself inside quietly, checked around, then relaxed, opened her mail—she knew now how the caller had gotten her cell number because her last cell bill had never arrived. Since it was paid automatically she hadn’t registered it was missing right away. Taking someone’s mail was a serious offense, of course, but murder was even more serious, so she doubted the killer was losing sleep over taking something out of her postal box.
Still, it was a violation of her privacy and she deeply resented it. Santiago would be all over her for going home alone again, but what was she supposed to do? They worked together as a team but not always the exact same hours, and he also mentioned an errand after he got off work. She’d decided to run by the condo and check on things.
A crack of lightning lit up the window to the south as the front gathered momentum. The thunder that immediately answered said it was close and Ellie heard a plaintive meow from her front porch, more like a feline wail. She ran to the door and was very relieved to see it was Blackie, seeking asylum under the overhang. She’d wondered if in all the confusion of fire trucks and smoke if the cat had ever gone home.
“Oh, thank God.” The next door neighbor dashed up and scooped up the cat. “She loves your front porch. I was hoping she was here. I want to thank you again for going in after her when we thought the house was on fire. My son is very attached to this animal. I saw you pull in but we haven’t seen you for a while. I hope everything is okay.”
So she technically had been watched, but it wasn’t as sinister as she’d thought. They knew what she did for a living, so she just said, “Working long hours on a case.”
“We’re going to lose power. Our lights have flickered already.”
Blackie liked being held in a thunderstorm about as much as she’d liked being held in a smoke-filled house. Ellie told him, “I think you’d better run for it.”
“Good idea.” Nichols took off in a sprint, the cat squirming in his arms, and barely made it before the deluge started in earnest. The rain didn’t arrive gently; it came in with a vengeance in sideways sheets that lashed at the windows and seemed to shake the walls.
As predicted, everything went dead and dark.
It was actually soothing, because surely only a complete maniac would be out in this weather, so she could relax for a few minutes. Not that she didn’t consider the killer a maniac, so maybe she wasn’t safe after all.
Of course her phone rang.
“Nice weather out there.” It was Grasso with his cool voice. “I think it might be spring in Wisconsin.”
“Let’s name this Hurricane Walleye. It is pretty wicked out there.”
“You’re telling me. I’m going down KK at about two miles an hour. I wanted to tell you my case has shifted. The older lady really was probably murdered. The family paid for a very expensive forensics specialist to fly in from California and go over the scene and the body. Hammett’s conclusions were verified and our guys are good, but this guy did some sort of fancy mathematical probability curve on it being an accident based on his findings and those from our department, and it came out as improbable. Metzger is now glad he gave the case to a homicide detective right away instead of dismissing it as a slip and fall, bec
ause he saved face. I’m going to drag Santiago to the supermarket with me to see if he can find the clerk that told him about the lady buying the tulips so we can show her a picture. If she can be directly tied to the flowers sent to you, when we get him, there’s another charge of murder.”
The worst part was Ellie definitely felt responsible somehow. It wasn’t rational, she knew it, but anyone would regret the death of someone who had helped out another human being and it ended up in their death.
Grasso went on. “I’ll send the report, but what the autopsy suggests is dual blows to the head, which means someone hit her and she went down. It is possible she tripped and was stunned, staggered up, and fell the other way, but the expert thinks it is improbable. It looks like she was slammed on the side of the head and it dropped her. She also fractured her arm, but it was from the fall.”
“One big bogeyman or multiple ones?”
Grasso didn’t mince words. It wasn’t his way. “One. He was put on this earth to simply ruin my life and yours, but we have it better than the others where he took away their lives. Damn, did you hear that crack of thunder?”
“Hard to miss it. I’m fairly sure my ears will stop ringing soon. Our guy killed her, I’m sure of it.”
“Someone did. Enter suspect who is our already suspect.”
“We need a name.” Ellie stood there in the dark except for the vivid lightning flashes and was amazed she still had cell reception.
“Let’s get him.” He paused, and then said quietly, “I’m concerned about you, but I am way more concerned about Santiago. What better way to get your undivided attention than by killing your partner? I don’t like crawling around in the heads of people who consider murder a sport, but if I were him, he’d be who I’d go for.”
That wasn’t comforting. Grasso knew what he was doing. She asked, “Speaking of Santiago, was he still at his desk?”
“No. I assumed he was with you.”
He so wasn’t.
“No.”
“Maybe give him a call? I need him anyway and he isn’t answering me.”
“I will. Unless we lose signal in this mess, I’ll call you back.”
She tried, and nothing.
She tried again and no answer until the fourth ring, but Santiago picked up. She inhaled in relief. “Where are you?”
“Riding the storm out by leaving a place that still has electricity, aka the Underworld. We keep our dead nice and cold. I can hear the generator running. That’s a good thing. If it went dark when I was down here I would flip shit. I had a question for Hammett. Where are you?”
She didn’t want to actually say. “Grasso needs to talk to you.”
“Fine. I’ll call him. Where are you?”
“My condo.”
“Jesus, Ellie.” He was emphatic. “Don’t go there without me. Are you nuts? He targets you there.”
“Of course I’m nuts. I like you as a partner, so I must be. This weather is awful.” She could barely hear him over the roar of the storm.
“I must be nuts too. Don’t set a foot outside until I get there.”
“Like I would. Rain is coming down in buckets. I’m safe enough.”
“I’ll be there soon. I’m headed upstairs.”
“Don’t drive in this.”
“Try and stop me.”
* * *
True to his word he arrived in a deluge and sprinted to the door at record speed, shaking off like a wet dog once he got in the front door. Ellie looked at him accusingly. “You’re an idiot.”
Maybe she was right, but it was a relief to see her safe. The pitch-dark street had not been a comfort. “I’m not the one that left without backup. Dammit, Ellie, don’t do that again.”
He needed a beer and some dry clothes, but either was highly unlikely. He couldn’t really sit down. She had nice furniture and he was soaked. Her place was dark without power, but she’d lit some candles. “If I could have a towel that would be great, or I’ll just have to sit on the floor.”
“I have an extra robe, but it’s pink. Or this oversized white shirt that has lace ruffles down the front.” She actually smiled. Since this all started those had been few and far between. “That I’d like to see. Let me take a picture of you wearing it.”
“Very funny, but I think a towel will work out fine.”
It literally had been a cold front, so he was shivering, but no regrets. He’d heard the ping of sleet on his windshield even through the slashing rain. Spring seemed to have taken that part of out like a lamb as just a suggestion. She disappeared down the hall and brought the towel. She also brought him a beer. It was higher end than what he usually drank, but he wasn’t picky at the moment. He twisted off the cap as she asked, “Did you call Grasso?”
“In this shit? No dice on questioning anyone on anything. Thousands of people are without power. I got his message, though. I’m lucky I didn’t get pulled over coming here because I was going too fast for conditions. Patrol officers aren’t anxious to stand there in this weather and issue tickets. What’s up?”
She told him about the older lady who was now not ruled an accidental death as he toweled off his damp hair.
“Okay. That’s interesting and makes me feel bad. Why didn’t Hammett say anything to me?”
“It’s his case. You know her. She follows the rules meticulously.”
That was true enough, but might have been good information in a face-to-face conversation. “She and I have some trouble with communication now and then.” His voice altered but it couldn’t be helped. “My mother called to reschedule due to the weather. I have to admit I’m not looking forward to it so I said fine.”
“I know you aren’t, but maybe an open mind would be the better way to go?” Ellie looked comfortable on the couch in the flickering light, drinking a glass of wine.
“You have to admit my situation is quite different from yours.”
She was close with her mother and sister. He didn’t really even know his family.
“I admit if I was you I’d be more curious.”
He loved the shape of her eyes. He got lost in that for a moment before he responded. “I think our life experiences are so different that maybe it is impossible for us to judge each other.”
“I’m not judging you. I’m just weighing in.”
He considered his response. “Curiosity, in my case, could be the worst idea ever. Those are skeletons I don’t want grinning at me from the closet.”
“Well, now that’s a pleasant picture.”
“My point.”
“At least you aren’t shivering any longer.”
“It’s damn cold out there. That’s why I’m here.”
No, it wasn’t. He just couldn’t ever live without her.
* * *
It was time to make the decision.
She’d felt it over and over again, maybe like the rumbling in the distance that made the earth move just a little before an earthquake. Thunder and lightning wasn’t just reserved for the outdoors.
Ellie stood in the flickering light and took off her shirt right in front of him.
Decision made, apparently. She just stripped it off her head and tossed it. Unfastened her bra and also dropped it onto the floor.
What the hell was she doing?
Maybe it was the chaotic weather and high-powered wind, maybe the way he’d come dashing to the rescue she hadn’t needed, but he’d worried she did—maybe it was a growing realization that there was going to be a swing one way or the other and he was leaving the decision up to her.
He was Jason Santiago, so his position was clear—he didn’t have much of a problem with that—but in his favor he hadn’t pressured her to go to bed with him.
At all.
If he had, no way she would ever do this.
He understood completely.
To say he was astounded was an understatement. He was beyond blindsided, she could tell it and sympathize. She was blindsided herself.
Maybe it
was all the sexual tension between them that needed to be resolved.
He didn’t speak or move, just stared at the curves of her breasts in the flickering light. When he could finally speak, he said hoarsely, “Don’t do this to me unless you mean it.”
She wouldn’t. “I don’t do anything unless I mean it. I thought you knew that.” She was admittedly self-conscious, uncertain about her decision, aware he could possibly be the worst choice of her life.
And she could be the worst decision of his life.
There were no promises. She wasn’t even sure she wanted promises. She just knew this had been in the back of her mind for a long time and he’d been more straightforward than she had been about it.
Responsibility on both sides.
This was about as direct as it got.
“Ellie, I don’t really walk around with protection. Do you—”
“Don’t worry about it.”
He accepted that without argument, and also accepted the invitation by getting to his feet and coming toward her with his unmistakable intensity. “I’m probably dreaming, right?”
“You said you were in love with me and asked what we were going to do about it. I guess this is what we’re going to do about it.”
“Finally make love? Good call.”
She didn’t respond, since he pulled her up against him and kissed her. Hard. That didn’t really surprise her; he wasn’t someone who wrote poems and sang under balconies. She was fine with action, since she really didn’t expect—or want—chocolates and flowery notes.
But he did say “make love”?
“Bedroom.” It wasn’t a question, since he just backed her into the hallway that direction.
He didn’t ask if she was in love with him, and she was grateful for that as he stripped off his clothes and pulled her close again on the bed.
She was afraid the answer would be yes.
He whispered in the dark, “Oh God, Ellie.”
That was it. He didn’t talk and she was perfectly fine with that, because if anyone could say the wrong thing it would be him, but while passionate wasn’t a word she usually used, maybe it applied. It had never been in question that in general he was a physical person.
Crushed Page 16
