Justifiable Risk

by V. K. Powell

  She hadn’t responded to the scene the night of the incident so these helped her visualize the setting. They also allowed her to check for anything out of the ordinary in the room. Other than the drugs and paraphernalia, the space looked like any other businessman’s layover. The powder cocaine and sniffing straw on the coffee table supported an overdose scenario. They had found only Paul’s fingerprints in the room and no other trace evidence. The absence of a suicide note lent credibility to the accidental-overdose theory.

  But Greer had to view the evidence, or absence thereof, as she would a fresh case. The most significant clue often revealed itself in the tiniest detail, and she had to be thorough. On one side stood her fellow officers and on the other a woman who knew the victim and believed completely that someone had killed him. If she simply rubber-stamped JJ’s conclusion, she wouldn’t do them or herself justice.

  She pulled the autopsy report out of the file next. The cause of death: inhalation of cocaine hydrochloride resulting in massive cerebral hemorrhage. The cocaine in Paul’s system tested ninety-seven percent pure, unusual for street-level merchandise in this area. Normal purity levels hovered at fifty percent this far from a main source city. So either Paul had been very unlucky or someone intended for him to die. Greer started to read the rest of the medical examiner’s report but the room had suddenly gone too quiet. She looked up and saw Eva Saldana walking toward her.

  Like the day before, she looked as if she’d stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine. Brown wool-blend slacks seemed to wear her instead of the other way around; they hugged her curves beautifully and tapered at the ankles. A copper-colored turtleneck accentuated highlights in her unfettered hair and clung to her generous breasts. Eva seemed to glide across the room in a pair of gold-toned stiletto heels that would’ve caused her serious ankle damage.

  Craig barely acknowledged Eva, returning to his computer when she entered. Breeze nodded in greeting, but didn’t speak. JJ swiveled in his chair and followed her movements from the door to Greer’s desk. From the corner of her eye, Greer saw Sergeant Fluharty coming out of his office. He had that oh-shit-there’s-going-to-be-trouble look in his eyes.

  JJ bolted from his desk and planted himself between Eva and Greer, circling Eva like a coyote tormenting his next meal. “I told you we could do things an easier way, but you wouldn’t listen. Now you’ve put this girl,” he nodded in Greer’s direction, “in a bad place.”

  Greer didn’t like JJ’s inference or having him use her as an excuse for his agenda. “Hey, I don’t appreciate—”

  “I fail to see how a search for the truth puts anybody in a bad place, Detective. I thought we were all on the same side.” Eva stared at JJ with unflinching certainty.

  Eva wouldn’t back down until she had the answers she needed about her brother’s death. Greer admired that quality, which probably served Eva well as an investigative journalist. But right now she was only pissing JJ off.

  “You already have the truth. You just don’t want to accept it.”

  Sergeant Fluharty stepped between JJ and Eva. “Back off, Jake. I warned you about this. Let it go and get back to work.”

  JJ glared at Eva and Greer once more, picked up his briefcase, and stalked out of the squad room. This assignment was barely an hour old and her entire squad wanted to disown her. And a dangerously attractive woman, with no problem using her body to get what she wanted, had already tried to seduce her. In the past her professional life provided stability when her personal life fell apart. She couldn’t afford another disconnect between her instincts and her job. Number-one priority, keep her emotions in check and wrap up the review ASAP.

  Fluharty said to Eva, “I’m sorry about that. JJ is touchy about someone second-guessing him.”

  “That’s only an issue if he’s wrong,” Eva said, then focused on Greer and the papers feathered across her desk. “Is that Paul’s file?”

  Greer swept the pages together and stuffed them back in the folder. Grabbing her jacket, she lowered her voice as she guided Eva toward the exit. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

  “You have a lot of those.”

  “Lot of what?”

  “Shoulds.”

  “Let’s go somewhere we can talk.” Greer heard the tension in her voice and wanted to be out of earshot before she let loose. “Follow me back to the house. At least we can avoid the town gossips there.”

  Greer used the drive back home to corral her irritation. When they arrived, she motioned Eva inside, placed the file on the kitchen table, and put on a pot of coffee. While it brewed, she gave Straw Dog and Frisky a quick treat and tried to decide where to start. Her furry pals acted content to let her pet them and avoid the conversation altogether. In the corner, Nina curled beside the stove and stared at her as if waiting to see what magic trick she pulled out of her hat. Cats were harder to impress than their canine counterparts. Greer couldn’t launch into an angry tirade. She needed to lay some ground rules, establish boundaries with Eva before this went any further.

  “You said you wanted to talk. So far, I haven’t heard anything except silence and heavy sighs. What is it, Greer?”

  She finally faced Eva, hoping to avoid that probing stare long enough to state her case. “Do you understand what you’ve done?”

  “Why don’t you enlighten me?”

  “You’ve threatened the reputation of a decorated detective and our entire department. And put me in a touchy position with my squad. I recognize a citizen’s right to question the police. It’s vital to our justice system. But we’ve already given your brother’s case more attention than most. When will you let this go?”

  Eva stared at her for a few seconds before she spoke. “I’m impressed. I’d begun to think you uttered only single-line quips. But to answer your question, I’ll let this go when someone has heard my concerns. And I couldn’t care less who’s uncomfortable with my questions. I’m interested in the truth—and you should be as well.”

  Eva looked totally determined. Her red lips turned deep crimson and glistened when she moistened them with the tip of her tongue. For a moment, Greer lost herself in those lips and the hypnotic strength of Eva’s stare. A ripple of sensation forced her to look away.

  “I’m a police officer. Of course I care about the truth.”

  “But one doesn’t necessarily guarantee the other. Did it ever occur to you that one day you might have to choose?”

  The unflattering inference annoyed Greer. “Did it ever occur to you that you might be wrong?” She sounded like a ten-year-old firing insults back at her opponent. “Can we just agree to disagree? I have a job to do, and since you’re now in the loop, we need some ground rules.”

  Eva settled at the table and waited as Greer poured coffee and sat down across from her. “This should be good.”

  “First, I need time to review the full case file. I also need to see the personal items that you have. Then I’ll reinterview witnesses.” Eva started to speak, but Greer held up her hand. “And, in the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you would wait.”

  Eva gripped her coffee cup tighter and the muscles around her jaw tensed. “Wait?”

  “Yes, please.” Greer watched some of the fire drain from Eva’s eyes. “I know that’s probably the hardest thing for you to do, but I need to get up to speed on everything. Can you give me that? I didn’t want this job, but now that I have it, I intend to give it my best.” In the end she also fully expected to validate JJ’s findings.

  Eva nodded. “In the interest of full disclosure and cooperation, I found an address when I went through Paul’s belongings. I believe it’s the warehouse he was scouting for another film studio. 247 Lewis Street. Do you know it?”

  “Yeah, it’s off Main in the strip of old sewing factories. I’ll check it out. Thanks.”

  Eva stared into her coffee, appearing sad now. “When we were children, Paul feared any kind of creepy thing. Vincent, Lucio, and I constantly tormented him with worms and bugs. It’s a
miracle he grew to be so well-adjusted. We’ll probably all burn in hell for it.” She looked at Greer with pain-filled eyes. “I don’t know why I thought of that. I’ll try to be patient, but I can’t promise. I tend more toward action.”

  “Thank you.” Greer marveled at the easy way Eva Saldana let her emotions flow to the surface. How would it feel to let her emotions out without worrying about what people might think or if she’d be able to put herself back together? But Greer had spent years practicing self-control and emotional containment. That’s who she was, especially now.

  “Can I at least see the file?” Eva asked.

  “Not right now. Let me review everything first.” Greer didn’t want to tell Eva the pictures might disturb her too much. And she didn’t want anyone to handle the file until she was certain exactly what it contained. Grieving relatives sometimes removed or planted information to encourage a specific outcome.

  “You don’t make many concessions, do you, Detective? Any more rules I should know about? I wouldn’t want to cross any invisible barriers.”

  Greer considered addressing the incident in Eva’s motel room, decided it had been an irrational one-time thing, and let it go. “I’ve covered the important stuff. If anything else comes up, I’ll let you know.”

  “Fair enough. What now?”

  “I need more background information on Paul.”

  Greer took notes while Eva talked about her brother’s life and business. Her attention occasionally slipped as Eva’s lips formed the words or as she followed her sweeping hand gestures. Greer struggled to focus on work, content to listen as Eva strummed and tweaked ordinary-sounding words into auditory masterpieces. It was late afternoon when Greer realized Eva had stopped talking.

  “Are you all right?” Eva squeezed Greer’s forearm.

  The touch was light but increased her heart rate. “Uh, yeah, sure.” Greer rose from the table and cleared their coffee cups. “I guess we’re finished for today. I’ll talk to you when I have news.” She turned back to speak to Eva, but bumped into her instead. “Oh.”

  Eva hugged Greer, close and tight. “Thank you for everything. I know you’ll do your best.” Her hot breath against Greer’s ear infused her with sexual heat. She started to hug Eva back, but the dogs barked just before the front door opened.

  A few seconds later Bessie stood propped against the doorway wearing a Cheshire-cat grin. “Am I interrupting something? I hope so.”

  Eva released Greer and walked toward the door. “Not at all. I was thanking Greer for her help. I’m on my way out. Nice to see you again, Bessie.” She gave Bessie a quick hug, patted each dog on the head, and was gone.

  Greer turned back to the sink and heard Bessie scrape a chair across the hardwood floor, a sign she was settling in—not good.

  “Sit.” Bessie spoke with authority and concern, and Greer didn’t question her. “I’ve put this off long enough. I’d like you to really listen for a change.”

  “Please, Aunt Bessie.” But Greer knew better than to argue with her when she got an idea in her head. And Greer had been avoiding these talks for months.

  “Do me the courtesy of listening.” When she nodded in resignation, Bessie said. “You need to move on, honey. Your life didn’t end two years ago—as hard as that may be to accept. And you did not cause what happened to Clare.”

  Her aunt didn’t believe in beating around the bush. Brief and blunt, that’s how they related best. Greer tried to swallow Bessie’s words without the bitter taste of guilt and loss that swelled up inside. “I’ve moved on, Bessie.”

  “Maybe you have, judging from what I just saw. But up till now you’ve been going through the motions. I did the same things after Ruth died—moved into the apartment out back because I couldn’t bear to be in this house we’d shared, threw myself into my job, avoided my friends and any connection to her, and refused to date again.”

  “I’m dating, and, for the record, you didn’t see anything because nothing happened.”

  Bessie’s right eyebrow arched toward her grayish-blond hairline. “Whatever you say. And for your record, I wouldn’t exactly call what you’re doing dating. I’m talking about something meaningful, something that makes you feel alive. Sex only feeds the body, not the heart and soul.”

  Her aunt’s words crashed into her, and she choked out her response. “I’m not sure I can.” Clare had been her heart, the living, feeling part of her. Now she was empty.

  Bessie scooted her chair closer and hugged Greer. “Clare gave you exactly what you needed at the time, and you’re stronger because of it. But she wouldn’t want this half-life for you. It insults your love. Look at opportunities, like the one you just had in your arms, with a little more enthusiasm. I want to see you happy again.”

  Greer swallowed the sizable lump in her throat. “I’ll try, Bessie, but it’s hard.”

  “I know, baby. I know. Ellis women don’t heal painlessly or quickly, but we come back stronger.” She gave Greer a big squeeze and kissed her cheeks. “Now, how about something to eat? I’m starving.”

  Sometimes Greer swore that her aunt plugged directly into the universal hotline. Her advice and opinions often forecast the future. Bessie decided it was time for Greer to move on and, presto, Eva Saldana showed up—the first woman to spark her interest in two years. Poppycock, just coincidence pure and simple.

  And when Eva got the answers she wanted, she’d be gone. The sooner the better. Then Greer could return to her own normal life. But the thought depressed more than comforted her. For the past two years, “normal” had equaled a series of sexual liaisons devoid of love or intimacy.

  *

  Eva drove out of Greer’s driveway like a rocket. Her knees still trembled from the proximity to Greer and her calculated hug. She’d meant to reassure Greer that she was on board with all her rules and prohibitions, though she had formulated her own plan. But the embrace became entirely too enjoyable and she lingered longer than she intended.

  Greer’s firm breasts against hers dimpled her nipples into concentrated pleasure points. The contact reignited her memory of Greer’s touch the night before. Heat poured between her thighs and she fought not to fuse their pelvises as they hugged. At that moment she wanted relief, everything else be damned, and Greer Ellis could provide it. The passion between them pulsed with reciprocated energy. Sparks flashed in Greer’s ocean blue eyes and her breath came in short spurts. Eva wanted to grab fistfuls of her thick hair, climb her lean frame, and ride her hips until she begged to come.

  But when Greer reached to return her embrace, she tensed. She’d obviously heard Bessie come in, whereas Eva was too involved to notice. Depending on how Eva prioritized her needs, Bessie’s timing either cursed or saved her. If she hoped to keep Greer on her side by using her considerable sex appeal, she’d have to do a better job of handling her attraction. She behaved like a novice.

  By the time Eva reached downtown New Hope, she’d reined in her hunger and refocused on the case. Why hadn’t she told Greer about Paul’s missing camera? Maybe he hadn’t brought it with him, but that possibility didn’t ring true. She’d promised Greer she’d be patient with her investigation, but she hadn’t promised to sit idly by. Maybe she could uncover things the police couldn’t access. At the very least she needed some basic information on these people who had such a significant effect on her family’s life. She should have put background checks on the top of her list as an investigator. She drove past the historic police station and pulled into the parking lot of the modest single-story New Hope Tribune.

  Eva entered the building with a wave of nostalgia for her early days as a cub reporter. Many newspaper offices she’d visited seemed comfortably similar to every other, a lot of them still located in old construction downtown near the hub of activity in earlier days. Some still housed antique, and environmentally hazardous, presses that were cost-prohibitive to dismantle and move. Every time she entered one of these buildings, she breathed deeply, hoping for the faintest
scent of printing ink, and listened in vain for the rhythmic roll of press cylinders. Instead she smelled the mustiness of disuse and the cacophony of computers versus people. Eva sighed as she experienced the disappointment again.

  The large, open Tribune building housed two glass-enclosed offices and a large area of partitioned cubicles. She introduced herself to the editor of the paper and explained what she needed. Fortunately he watched CNN and her reputation held some sway. He was more than willing to help and even assigned one of his reporters to assist with research. She followed his directions through the maze of half-walled workstations and knocked on the side of a cubicle.

  “Yeah, what is it now?” A redheaded man sat hunched over a desktop covered with papers. On either side, piles of newspapers and magazines threatened to topple over with the slightest breeze and bury him. A chair, two bookcases, and more periodicals stacked on every flat surface, including the floor, cluttered the rest of the small space.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, but your editor sent me back.”

  The man’s head popped up like that of a surfacing groundhog. He craned his neck around the stacks of papers, did a polite assessment, and met her gaze. “I’m sorry for being snappish. It’s hard to get any work done around here.” He stood and offered his hand. “Tom Merritt, Mrs.— Hey, wait. I know who you are. Eva Saldana.”

  Tom’s attention made her a little self-conscious and he appeared a bit awestruck. “Yes.”