“I need you to sign a release.”
“Fine.” Her body tightened as the other woman eyed the contents. “Go ahead and put it back in the bag and push it through the chute.” She produced a form and handed it to Lynn.
Lynn shifted her Marc Jacobs handbag from one shoulder to the other, shoved the bag through the opening and signed the form. “Can I go?”
The deputy pulled the bag toward her. “These eco-bags are handy, aren’t they? People use them for everything. You don’t want to give this to the detectives in person?”
“No.” The handbag went to the other shoulder. The women’s gazes met. Lynn straightened and pulled her shoulders back.
“Okay. I’ll make sure…”
Lynn whirled and strode for the door.
“…that they get it.”
The sun met her, and the door closed behind her. She almost skipped to the car.
***
Sharee watched Gina leave for lunch as she’d watched the others leave. She and Zeke were alone in the office. He stood before her desk, his smile tinged with just enough amusement to make her feel awkward.
“Everyone’s deserted you. That must be a sign. Come on. I’m not a molester or anything. I just want to know how you’re doing.”
“I’m fine. I—”
“Is your husband that unsure of you?”
She frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“If I’m not mistaken, he’s a very conservative guy.” He held up a hand, green eyes mocking. “I know. There’s nothing wrong with that, but is he that jealous?”
“John is not jealous. He has no reason to be.”
“There. That’s what I’m saying. He has no reason to be. I just want to know how you’re doing.” He glanced out her office door and back. “Miscarriage is hard. I know that. I’ve dealt with other patients before, but they had someone with whom they could share their pain. You said you were keeping this a secret.” He leaned toward her. “Sharee, you need to be able to share with someone. He’s overseas. You can’t possibly share this until he comes home. Right?”
She took a long breath. Just the word—miscarriage—caused her hands to shake. Two days ago. Two. She felt like a failure. What would she say to John? They’d wanted a baby so much.
“Yes. I won’t tell him until he’s home.” If then…
“And how long will he be gone?”
“Three weeks or so.”
“That’s what I mean. You can talk with me. Come on. We’ll have lunch. You’ll share, and I’ll…” he smiled, “I’ll empathize, and you’ll come back to work feeling better.”
She felt the hollowness in her stomach—from hunger or pain, she wasn’t sure which. Perhaps just the barrenness of knowing her womb was empty. Lunch with him at a restaurant or alone in the office?
“Okay,” she said but hesitated once more. “I…”
“Good. Get your purse or whatever and let’s go. I know a place with great food and tables outside. You’ll be perfectly safe.” The amusement returned.
“Okay. This once. But I’ll take my car.” He had stepped aside to let her pass, and she felt the immediate stillness. “There’s no need for you to drive back here,” she said. “I’ll bring my car.”
“He’s a real bear, isn’t he?”
They passed through the lobby and out the front door. Sharee locked it and brought her gaze to his again. “Actually, he’s a bear and a teddy bear. Fierce and gentle. And I love it. And him.”
Zeke gave a short laugh and shook his head. “All right. Do you know where Jack’s Place is?” When she said she did, he nodded and climbed into his black Ford Fusion.
***
The waiter walked away, and Zeke leaned forward, his eyes showing concern. “You’re back to work early.”
“The doctor said I could go back as soon as I felt up to it. No physical reason not to.”
“Standard answer. But how are you, really?”
She bit her lip, and waited, fighting back the emotions. After some time, she said, “Empty.” When he nodded, she pulled in more strength. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel, and I don’t want to hear something was wrong, and that’s why this happened. I don’t want to hear anything right now.”
He nodded again, said nothing, started to touch her hand and stopped. Quiet filled the space between them.
Sharee forced a smile. “It’s okay. I left you no place to go right then.”
He met her smile. This time, his hand touched hers. “I’m trying to get rid of all the medical jargon that keeps jumping into my mind and be like a girlfriend. So, what would Lynn say if she knew? I take it she was the one you would have talked with if I hadn’t called the other day.”
The smile came easier this time. “She’d be busy assuring me I’d have another baby.”
“And you will.”
“The ER doctor said that he saw no reason why I shouldn’t.”
“I know.”
It hadn’t mattered at that moment. Helplessness to stop what she knew was happening had eclipsed everything else. She looked down at her hands. What was she doing here? She needed to go home. She needed John. But that was impossible. She should just go home.
“Zeke…”
“Many women have miscarriages, Sharee. You’ll be all right. You’ll get pregnant again. Give yourself a few months, though, before you do.”
Her heart seized. She fought all the different emotions his words caused.
“You like your job?” he asked.
She raised her head to look at him.
He met her look with another of his smiles. “I’m trying a different track. Get your mind onto something else. Talk to me about your job.”
She gathered her strength. “Okay.” It took some time, some forced concentration; but over the course of the meal, she managed to give him an in-depth look at what she did at Downtown Ministries.
He laughed at her stories. “I didn’t know helping people with schooling and job training could be so fascinating. And teaching classes from cooking to English to dressing for success must keep you hopping. House cleaning? Who knew women needed that kind of training.”
“And men.”
“Ah, yes. Don’t mention to anyone how easily I fall into that pit of cultural insensitivity.”
“Your secret is safe. And thank you.”
“For what?”
“For helping me get past this hour without tears.”
“Tears at Jack’s Place? That would never do. Didn’t you read the sign on the wall as we entered?”
She glanced around. “No.”
“‘No tears but crocodile tears while eating at Jack’s. And I think he’s pretty strict about it.”
She smiled in return and pushed her plate aside.
Zeke pushed his plate away, too, and took a long drink from his glass. “So, how is your friend, Lynn?”
“Lynn?”
“You haven’t mentioned me to her? I thought women talked about everything.”
“Not everything. Why?”
“Lynn and I have some history. Oh, short history, but I don’t think she has much good to say about me. Is she still with Representative McCloud?”
“Yes.”
“Things going well there? I’ve read a lot on the internet. Some good; some bad.”
Sharee shrugged. “It’s always that way, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but since he’s pushing these human trafficking laws, he’s getting much more press. Good for his next run for office.”
Sharee frowned. “I think we need the new laws, and I don’t think he’s doing this for personal gain.”
“Ooh. I stepped on your toes,” he gave her a grin. “I did that with Lynn, too. I’m not trying to be offensive.” He sat straighter. “What do you know about his investigation?”
“His investigation?”
“Yes.”
“Not much, why?”
He imitated her shrug of a minute ago. “I just advised Lynn to wa
tch herself. His investigation looks to some not so disinterested and almost like a witch-hunt. There, I’ve given you the same information. I think it was at this point that Lynn stopped taking my calls. You, too?”
“No.”
“But you’re wondering why I would say that?”
“Well, yes.”
“He’s let it be known that he thinks someone with influence is involved. He’s digging for that someone. But is there anyone? Or is this just pimps and prostitutes as usual?”
“Many of these “prostitutes” are trafficked. It’s not a choice, it’s slavery.”
“I hear the tone. I’ve undermined my reputation, haven’t I?”
Sharee frowned. “I would think those in the medical profession would be well informed about sex trafficking these days. You—” Both jumped when her phone rang. “Sorry.” She pulled the phone from her purse. “Let me look in case it’s work.” Not a familiar number. She started to silence it, but instead said, “Hello?”
John’s voice came over the line, “Sharee?”
Startled, she felt a rush of joy. “John?”
***
The surprise and warmth in her voice bathed him. After the past few days, he needed it.
Thank you, Lord.
Their mission’s group had directed them home. The plane was gone, along with all their equipment, their food, their personal items. Thank God that the group had kept their passports and plane tickets. They called for an adjustment by the airlines, and they had a new schedule within minutes. No time to wash or change clothes—even if they had extras, which they didn’t. He glanced at the phone and the people standing next to him. When he’d asked, giving a simple explanation, they handed him the phone.
Thank you, Lord, for good people.
“We’re flying home today.”
“What?” Sharee’s voice rose. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“Yes, we’re both fine.”
“Thank God. But what…”
“That’s what I have been doing. Thanking God. Look, I’ll have to tell you about it when I get home. They’ve called the flight already. I just wanted to let you know.” He gave her the airlines information and the time they would be arriving. “Have you got it?”
“Yes. John…”
“Come on, sweetheart,” a male voice interrupted hers, coming clear and distinct over the phone, “let’s finish eating.”
He drew the phone away from his ear to stare at it then put it back. “Sharee?”
“John, I….” No misunderstanding the hesitation in her voice.
“Who is that?”
She said something, but the loudspeaker announcing their flight drowned her voice. Bob touched his arm.
“They’re calling our flight for the last time. Talk to her at home.” Bob’s voice held amusement.
John ignored him. “Sharee, who was that?”
“It…it’s Zeke.”
The name stunned him. He said nothing.
“John?”
The loudspeaker’s words burst over their heads once more. “I’ve got to run to make the plane.” He clicked off the phone handed it back.
Zeke Richmond?
Bob indicated the direction. They ran.
***
Sharee stared at the phone. “John?” she said, knowing that the call had been disconnected, but desperate to get him back on the line. She looked at the number on her phone. No one she recognized. She punched what she needed for a return call. A strange voice answered.
“Hello?”
“Hello? Is John there?”
“John? The man who made the call? I’m sorry. He’s not here. He and his friend ran to catch their plane.”
“I…I…oh, okay.” She shut off the phone not even bothering to say goodbye. Her heart crashed. She bit her lip, tears blurring her eyes.
“Sharee?”
She couldn’t open her eyes yet. It took a moment, but she swallowed hard, pushed her chair back and stood. “I cannot believe you did that.” Her voice iced.
Zeke rose, too. “Look, I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. Was he checking on you? All the way from Indonesia?”
“Checking on me?” Her voice rose. “You don’t get it, do you? I love my husband, and he loves me. If he wanted to call ten times a day, I would take every one of his calls and love it.” She snatched her purse from the table and crammed the phone into it. “I don’t think we need to finish this…lunch.”
“Sharee, look. I apologize. I…”
“Your apology is worthless at this point.”
Chapter 16
Lynn heard the pounding on the door and knew. Who else would act like they owned the place? She glanced through the peephole just to be sure. Whether or not she opened the door was still up for debate.
The pounding came again, louder, shaking the door. She rolled her eyes, unfastened the lock, and opened it six inches.
“What?”
“Open the door.”
“Where’s your partner?”
“Open the door, Lynn.”
“No, come back with your partner.”
Rich stuck his foot in the door as she tried to close it. “Do you want me out in the hall yelling at you?”
“Are you going to yell at me?”
“You bet I am. What do you think you’re doing dropping off evidence like that? Your fingerprints are all over it.” His voice rose. “And if you’re involved in a murder…”
“Lower your voice,” she hissed.
“Then let me in.”
She backed away, and he thrust the door open. They stared at each other for a moment. She noticed the “off-duty” clothes—jeans and a t-shirt—and the angry tilt to his head.
She cleared her throat. “You’d better be ready to leave when I say so…unless you have a search warrant.”
“Why? Do you have more evidence you’re hiding?”
“I didn’t hide anything. I explained in the letter. Besides, you were with me when I got it.”
“Did I know it had anything to do with Lawson?”
“You didn’t, but neither did I.” She walked to the other side of the room. “I knew if I tried to help, you’d get the wrong idea and come after me.”
His mouth tightened, but he said nothing. The silence lasted so long it unnerved her. The tightened jaw made him intimidating, but the pain that hit her chest shocked her—topping the feelings that she’d juggled the day they fingerprinted her.
After their last dinner together, she’d thought…what? That something special had formed between them. Something more than this. Stupid. The interest he showed in you boiled down to his need for information. He has a job to do, and he does it full-time.
“I’ve spent the last two days,” Rich said, “trying to prove that none of your prints or DNA match anything we had, and then you walk in with a bag of Victoria’s things that have your prints all over them. What did you do? Paw through everything she had?”
“Sharee and I looked at it. We didn’t know until we saw Maria’s letter that the stuff belonged to Victoria.”
“And where has it been all this time?”
“At Sharee’s. She forgot about it with the banquet and John leaving for Indonesia and all.”
“Indonesia?” Rich’s brows rose. “Jergenson’s left the country?”
“Yes. Don’t tell me you suspect him, too. That’s nonsense. You’ve probably let the real murderer—her husband—escape while you’re running after everyone else.”
“You better get that mouth of yours under control.”
She ignored him. “You’ve concentrated on me and now John. You’re crazy.”
“Mouth under control. Now.”
“Do I really look like a murderer?” Jamming her hands on her hips, she glared at him. When he just stared, she threw her head back, tossing the long hair over her shoulder. “Well?”
He dropped his gaze, and his look changed. Lynn stiffened. She had pulled on cut-off jeans and a sleeveless t-shirt ea
rlier and felt half-dressed under his scrutiny. His eyes lingered, and warmth began to creep up her neck. She cleared her throat.
“Well.” His jaw slackened. His mouth twitched. “My best guess is no, but I haven’t seen a photo of every murderer out there.”
She stamped her foot. “That is not funny. I did not kill Victoria. I didn’t stab Maria either. You…”
“Lynn,” he interrupted, “I never said…”
“And don’t you dare come to my work again.”
“Will you…”
“Do you know what it’s like to be humiliated and harassed in front of your boss?”
“No one’s harassing you. If you’ll shut up a minute…”
“Shut up?” Her voice rose. “Why should I shut up? You…”
He closed the gap between them in two strides and grabbed a handful of her hair, twirling it tight. “Stop right there.” She pulled against his grip, but his hand tightened. “Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes. That’s all I’ve done the last week or two—listen to what you have to say.”
He twirled her hair tighter.
“Ow. Stop that!”
“Did I hear a please with that?”
“No! You did not! Let go of me.”
“In a minute. I want you to listen to what I have to say.”
“This is police brutality. I could yell for help.”
“No, this is personal. I left my badge and ID in the car. On purpose.”
She started to draw away but felt the tug on her hair again. She stilled. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve spent two days trying to prove you had nothing to do with this case.”
“And why would you do that? Have you got someone better to harass?”
“You have one wicked mouth, you know that?”
“So you’ve said.”
They glared at each other. She wiggled to get free, trying to inch away from him. She could feel the heat from his body.
“No, I don’t think I did.” His frown changed. He dropped his gaze to her mouth. “At least, if I did, you misunderstood my meaning.”
His gaze flicked upward to meet hers then dropped again to her mouth. Her stomach tensed, the pounding of her heart loud in her ears. Then her hair was free, and his hand slid down her back, his fingers spreading out across the small curve at the bottom.
Splashdown: A Christian Contemporary Romance with Suspense (Dangerous Series Book 3) Page 11
