by J. E. Taylor
Randy’s jaw tightened and he squeezed his eyes closed taking a deep breath and loosening his grip on her before he spoke. “You know I didn’t kill anyone,” he said, his voice calmer now and his gaze steady. “Look, being under the FBI’s microscope doesn’t please me and your explanation isn’t much of a consolation.”
Hot tears of aggravation blurred her vision and she blinked them back. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t want to tell him anything that would put you in his line of fire, either.”
“Ah.” Randy studied Carolyn with a heavy sigh. Troubled and unsure of his next move, he headed into the bedroom to change.
Carolyn followed, leaning on the doorjamb as he peeled the finely tailored suit off his well-built frame. “What’s on your mind?”
Randy spun toward her. “On MY mind?” He laughed. “You want to know what I’m thinking? Jesus, if you don’t know the answer to that…” He stopped, shaking his head. “You’ve implicated me for the murders, the FBI is combing through my private life as we speak. The DA is ripping mad at you and you’re living with me, so by association, that doesn’t bode well if they decide there’s enough circumstantial evidence to charge me with murder. And to top it off, there’s a psycho out there targeting women who look exactly like you. You’ve got some bizarre connection to him and sooner or later he’s going to find you, Carolyn, and that,” he paused pointing at her. “That scares the shit out of me.” He stripped off his shirt flinging it onto the chair in the corner where a growing pile of dirty clothes were balled up.
“Well, if they charge you, at least you have the best lawyer in the state.”
“I’m serious. The thought of that psycho getting his hands on you…” His hands propped on his hips and he looked at the floor, his chest rippling with the angry flex of his muscles.
“Don’t worry.”
He laughed, not the musical rich laughter she was used to, but a sharp bark of a laugh tight in his throat, menacing. He lumbered across the room until he towered over her, his fiery gray-blue eyes glared down at her. “Don’t worry? Are you FUCKING kidding me?”
Alarmed by his barreling voice, Carolyn took a step back. Her mouth opened and closed like a guppy’s, popping each time it clamped closed, with no words leaving her lips. Finally, a pathetically weak, “I’m sorry,” hissed out of her chest.
Randy inhaled, raising his gaze to the ceiling. As he exhaled, he locked his gaze on hers. With a nod, he spun around, crossing to his dresser and rummaging for a short-sleeved blue-knit pullover. Jeans quickly replaced the dress slacks and he turned back to Carolyn. “Do you want to go out to dinner or just order in?”
“I’m not in the mood for a crowd.”
Randy gave her a curt nod and slipped by.
The rough banging of pots in the kitchen signaled the prevailing mood of the evening and Carolyn’s head dropped, her chin touching her chest as she listened to the muttered rumblings. A combination of frustration and guilt ripped through her, springing a fresh layer of tears. Could this day get any worse?
BAM. BAM. BAM. She jumped as a fist slammed repeatedly against the front door.
“Carolyn, open the god damn door!”
Randy slammed a pan down and stormed to the door, ripping it open. Jim Britt stood in the hall, his fist poised for another bang and his face the color of a traditional crimson poinsettia. Carolyn couldn’t remember seeing him this angry and she bit her lip to keep the smug smile from surfacing.
“Where’s Carolyn?”
“She’s a little busy right now,” Randy said without even a glance in her direction and she slid to the side, out of range of Jim’s glaring scan of the apartment.
Jim stepped forward, trying to crowd Randy, to intimidate him, trying to overpower the six-foot bulk blocking the door but Randy just shifted his stance and crossed his arms, blocking Jim’s path.
“Carolyn!” Jim called from behind the human shield.
“I suggest you turn your ass around and high tail it out of here before I call the police. This is my apartment and you are not welcome here.” Randy’s voice was calm and rational, but his glare was anything but and Jim stepped back, visibly debating his next move.
“Tell Carolyn I’m going to decimate her in court.”
“I highly doubt that.” He slammed the door in Jim’s face and waited before turning to Carolyn. When he finally did turn, his lips pressed together in thought. “What the hell was that all about?”
“I changed sides. I’m defending a minor that he’s prosecuting and he isn’t too happy about it.”
“That’s an understatement,” he said and a smile gained traction on his lips. “Baby, you’ve got the biggest pair of brass balls of anyone I know,” he added and broke out in laughter. This time, it was the laugh she fell in love with. Musical, full and inviting and she crossed to him, wrapping her arms around his waist in a warm hug, refreshed by the humor he found in the situation.
Chapter 33
Steve approached the apartment building on the north side of Central Park for the first time since Chris Ryan passed away. He paused, looked up at the high rise and sighed, then refocused on the entry and the smiling doorman.
“Good afternoon, Agent Williams,” the friendly attendant said with a tip of his hat.
Steve searched for the man’s name and after a heartbeat, he smiled back. “Good afternoon, Fred.” He offered his hand and the doorman stared at it for a moment and then gripped it in a firm shake.
“Are you in the city for business?”
Steve’s smile faltered and he nodded. “Unfortunately, I am.”
“Nasty business, those killings. Especially having one so close to home.” He waved toward the park across the street and brought his gaze back to Steve.
Steve paused and glanced at the park before turning back to Fred. “Why do you assume I’m here because of the killings?”
Fred looked over the rim of his glasses with a raised eyebrow. “You are still an FBI agent, correct?”
“Yes, I am.”
“From what I’ve read, you seem to be their go to man when there’s a serial killer in the mix.”
“You’ve been keeping tabs on me?”
A smile played on Fred’s lips. “We like to know who our new tenants are.”
“Fair enough,” Steve said. Especially with how I acquired the place. He took a moment to scan Fred, coming back with nothing that could help with this case. Fred wasn’t on duty the night of the murder. “Have a good evening, Fred.” He offered a quick smile and a nod of acknowledgement before turning toward the lobby elevator bank.
“You, too, Agent Williams,” Fred replied.
The elevator doors opened before Steve pushed the button and he stepped aside for the occupants, waiting for it to clear before he entered. Inside, he leaned against the back of the elevator and pulled out the sheet of paper Carolyn Hastings had given him, glancing at the dozen names on the sheet. The elevator bell sounded and the doors slid open to the penthouse floor. Steve stepped out into the familiar foyer and dug in his pocket for the keys.
Steve stood outside the apartment door with the keys in his hand. Memories of the last time he stood inside the apartment flooded his thoughts and he clenched his teeth, willing them back into his dreaded memory box. Ignoring the chuckle of his guardian angel, he slid the key in the door and stepped inside. The minute the mahogany door closed and latched, he muttered under his breath, “Just shut up.”
The laugh flooded his senses and he shut his eyes. “Come on, Chris. Let it be. Okay?” The laughter stopped along with the flutter of wings and silence filled the void. Steve sighed, relaxing at the sudden shift in air. His guardian angel had fled, leaving him to his own devices for now.
While the computer booted, Steve went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. He stared at the partial six-pack of Corona still sitting on the top shelf, like it had been the last time. “Jen’s testifying this week,” he said to the empty apartment.
I know.
Jessica77
Steve nodded, ignoring the twinge of guilt and typed the password before taking a sip of beer. “Thanks.”
No comment came from the rustle of feathers and the light breeze produced by the invisible angel’s wings.
He glanced at his watch and flipped open his cell phone, dialing the now familiar number in York, Maine.
“Hey, when are you coming home?” Jennifer asked, the strain in her voice saying more than her words could.
“Are the kids acting up?”
Silence met his question and he closed his eyes, making the jump from New York to their newly acquired residence. One look at his wife’s expression, the puffy eyes, and tear stained cheeks and he turned, striding through the house with purpose.
The family room looked like a herd of elephants had traipsed through it and in the middle of the mêlée, CJ and Tommy were wrestling each other on the ground. Tommy’s incoherent yells matched the string of curses coming from CJ and Steve stopped at the base of the stairs, harnessing the anger buzzing in his head. “Stop right now.” The words tumbled from his lips in a growl sounding more like Chris Ryan than himself.
Both kids froze, their gaze swiveling in the direction of the stairs. Their matching blue eyes wide with shock at the sight of their legal guardian. After the initial shock wore off, they jumped to their feet and pointed at each other.
“He started it,” CJ said while Tommy sounded the same words without the articulation, the lack of a full tongue stinting his clarity, but Steve heard the words in his head, just as clear as CJ’s.
“I don’t care who started this, stop now and you better have this place cleaned up before Jennifer comes downstairs.”
“Or what?” CJ said, straightening his back in defiance.
Even at ten, CJ was a force to be reckoned with and Steve knew if he let up on him, the kid would be out of control in a matter of days. “Or you’re grounded when I get back.”
“Who says you’ll come back?”
CJ crossed his arms, his face an angry blank slate, but brewing underneath was a level of insecurity and fear that was understandable under the circumstances, and had sparked this rift with his brother. Steve’s anger dissolved and he crossed the room, putting his hand on CJ’s shoulder. “I promise I’ll come back,” he said looking between CJ and Tommy. “And I don’t kid around with promises, do I?”
Both heads shook back and forth, but their eyes still held hesitation. He knew only time and keeping his promises like he had the last six months would reinstate trust in the boys. Even so, he didn’t need this type of fiasco while he was on a case. “Look, I need you two to behave. Jenny’s a little overwhelmed here and having you behave like animals isn’t helping. Give her a break, okay?”
Tommy was the first to look down and nod. “Whe a oo comi home?”
“As soon as I help catch this killer.”
“Be cafu,” Tommy said and his gaze shifted.
“I will. Will you be good for Jennifer?”
Tommy sheepishly nodded and Steve turned to CJ. “Will you?”
CJ kept his gaze but refused to agree to his request; instead, he stepped back and jutted his chin in the air, tightening his crossed arms.
“If I’m constantly jumping back here to address your antics, it will take longer for me to solve this case. Is that what you want?” Steve asked, putting his hands on his hips, exasperated.
“Maybe I don’t want you to come home.” The remark came loaded with a mental shove.
Steve stepped back against the invisible pressure, catching his balance and sending a disapproving glare at CJ. He didn’t have the right words to diffuse this boy’s anger, not today. “CJ, I don’t have time for this little temper tantrum. I’m trying to stop a killer before someone else gets hurt.”
“Like you stopped the killer in Georgia?”
The dig hurt. He hadn’t figured out who was responsible in time to save their mother and it still weighed on him, but he did find Tommy before the maniac killed him. I’ve got less to work with this time and a city of over eight million people… Steve squashed the remainder of the thought and answered, “Yes, now will you give Jenny a break?”
Tommy nudged CJ and CJ nodded, keeping his gaze glued to the floor.
“Thank you. Now clean up this room, will ya?” With that request, Steve let the transition take control of pulling his spirit back to New York and he opened his eyes to the apartment. Jennifer’s breathing still filled his ear through the phone. “They should behave now. If they don’t, call and if I can, I’ll pop in.”
“Thank you. And, Steve?”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful. CJ may not want you back home, but I do.”
“I will.” Steve disconnected the call and sighed. This was his first case since Georgia and the complications of a strained marriage and taking care of two very special kids didn’t help his state of mind. Sweeping away the guilt building in his stomach, he sat down at the computer and started researching the names Carolyn gave him.
Chapter 34
Carolyn sat up in bed, her scream filling the bedroom.
Randy switched on the light, his sleepy eyes full of concern. “You okay?”
Carolyn trembled, but nodded anyway. “Just a nightmare,” she said. It actually was a collage of nightmares, each girl dying in succession, one brutal murder after the other. Not a vision, but memories burned into the fabric of her mind like the path of flame in a house fire.
“You sure?” Randy ran his hand gently over the silky nightgown covering her back.
“Yes. I’m sure.” She met his questioning stare. “Go back to sleep.” She forced a smile and settled into his arms after he shut the light off. The hideous instant replay continued every time she closed her eyes, looping and re-looping in her head.
Sleep was slow, but when it came, it was deep and she didn’t even stir when Randy’s alarm went off. However, when he sat on the edge of the bed and pushed the hair away from her face, her eyes opened, unfocused until she blinked the sleep out of them.
“I have to go to work.” He leaned down, planting a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll plan on being home early and we can go out to eat, okay?”
Carolyn nodded, nuzzled into the palm on her cheek and closed her eyes again. She only had one place to go today, and no inclination to get out of the warm bed.
A buzzing sound broke through Carolyn’s sleepy brain and she opened one eye to the brightly lit room. The time on the clock caused her to shoot from the bed with a start, it was almost ten. “Holy shit.” It only seemed like minutes ago that Randy kissed her goodbye. She grabbed the vibrating cell phone off the nightstand and flipped it open. “Hey,” her scratchy voice enunciated.
“Are you still in bed?” The baritone voice asked.
“Yeah, what time did you leave this morning?”
“Seven.” Randy answered.
“Why so early?”
“Kevin scheduled a meeting.”
“Oh.” Something about his tone shook the cobwebs from her head. “What’s wrong?”
“My brother called the firm and filed a complaint.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I should have told my boss about the private securities transaction. He was pissed. The good news is I still have a job. I guess being the leading producer in the firm has its benefits. The bad news is he’s watching me like a hawk.” Randy didn’t elaborate, but that would mean extra scrutiny on all his recommendations and an internal audit on his accounts. He had nothing to hide, so it was no more than a pain in the ass for him. “But if anything happens with your friend there, then the likelihood is I’ll get my walking papers.”
Carolyn sighed. Randy loved his job and he was extremely good at finding the next hot investment and getting his people out before disaster struck. He had a sixth se
nse about the market that was rare. “Do you need a lawyer?”
His rich laugh filled the line. “No, besides, you don’t specialize in securities law, babe, now, get your ass out of bed and enjoy this beautiful day!”
“Yes, sir,” Carolyn said. “I’ve got a case to prepare for anyway.”
“Good. I’ll catch you tonight.”
“Bye.”
An hour later, she stepped outside in the warm sunshine. Her phone buzzed again and she flipped it open without looking at the display. “Hello?”
“Damon was asking when you’re going to call him,” Olivia said.
“How about a how are you?” Carolyn asked.
“How are you?” Olivia played along.
“I was fired yesterday.”
Silence. “Did you just say you were fired?”
“Yep.”
“Why?”
“Jim and I didn’t see eye to eye on a particularly sensitive issue, and he decided it was important enough to let me go.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me?”
“Nope, not kidding at all.” Carolyn said. “But I’ve already got my first defense case.” She jogged across the road and up the walkway traversing the construction of the Freedom Towers. “I’m heading over to the public defender’s office to get the notes on the case. It was one that Jim wanted me to prosecute and I said no.”
“Holy shit.”
Carolyn laughed. “Yeah, yesterday was a really bad day. I’ll give Damon a buzz after I’m done.”
“Good because he was raving to me about how he wanted to paint you. Although I’m not sure Randy will like the idea.”
“Do tell.”
“He wants you nude, but with a red satin sash draped over your privates. It sounds delicious and I think Damon is a little smitten with you.”
“Oh, really?” Damon definitely had an attractive vibe, sensual, dangerous, mysterious, all the things she didn’t need right now.
“Yeah, his eyes light up like the devil’s dancing in them when he talks about you.” Olivia sighed.
