“I find that hard to believe, a good looking man like you.”
Surprised by her comment, he stuttered, “Ah...Thank you. I'm lucky to have Molly as a companion. I’m glad you wanted to come over. You should join us when we visit a National Park or other scenic places. Then you wouldn’t be an RV virgin.”
Playfully teasing him, with a straight face, she asked, “You think I’m a virgin?”
Before Hank could reply, Alicia’s cell phone rang. “Tomlinson.” She listened without comment for a few minutes. “That’s great news, Chris. Thanks for calling. See you tomorrow afternoon.”
“That must be good news. Your smile gives you away,” Hank said.
“Chris obtained more information about Scott, his house, and his vehicle. Chris went home but kept working on the case. Now he's back at the office. Chris tried Scott’s phone, but no answer to the landline and no cell phone number available. Scott may be using a burner phone.”
“At least you have a starting point with this suspect.”
“Exactly, and we have photos of Scott. I'm going to have the guys show these to a select group of people who may have interacted with him. We can contact them by phone, fax, email or face to face to see if anyone recognizes Scott.”
“That sounds encouraging. I wonder if he wore a brown coat that matches the button found in the cooler.”
“Now I have a favor to ask,” Alicia said.
“Please ask.”
She offered a plastic jewel box. “Austin made a DVD of all the interviews. Here's your copy. If you would kindly review it, maybe you’ll find something we missed. I would appreciate your input.”
“Glad to. Anyone I should pay particular attention to?”
“No one in particular and everyone. It's a lot to ask of you, I know. We’ve reviewed the interviews and haven’t noticed much. Maybe your fresh eyes will find something.”
“Sure. I’ll look at them and let you know if I find anything noteworthy. You never know.”
“Thank you for doing this, and thanks so much for a lovely evening, dinner and conversation. I enjoy your company, but I must go. Tomorrow will require all of my wits to get this case solved.”
“I wish you would stay longer,” Hank said, not wanting her to leave.
“I can’t, Hank. With so many possible suspects, this murder is a mess. I'd stay if I could.”
Hallelujah! Maybe? “I’ve enjoyed our time together. I’m impressed by your intelligence, ability to lead and, most definitely, your charm and great looks. Could we do this again soon?” Hank helped her put her coat on.
Turning to face him she smiled. “I’d love to hear more about your travels and writing, but not tonight.”
Tempted to grab her in his arms and passionately kiss her, Hank walked her to the door and stepped outside. Holding her arm, they walked to her car.
Before opening the car door, she took his hand, leaned in and kissed his cheek. Hank moved closer to her.
She gently pushed him back, saying, “I must go, Hank.”
Hank opened her car door; she slid into the driver's seat, placed her hands on her lap and looked at him with a mischievous smile. “Thanks again, Hank, for everything.” She shut the car door. “Goodnight and I look forward to next time.”
He stood watching as she drove away and knew there was a shit-eating grin on his face. Maybe tomorrow?
THIRTEEN Sunday, November 24
Barely awake, Hank grabbed for Alicia, only to find an empty pillow, realizing he’d been dreaming of making love to Alicia. Molly had her butt against his back. He turned to pet her. “Guess for now you’re the only female I’ll be waking up to.” Ignoring his loving remarks, Molly jumped off the bed.
Still, in a dream state, he forced himself to sit up. Molly nuzzled his arm. “Okay, okay, I'm getting up!”
After a quick shave and shower, Hank dressed and followed Molly outside where she squatted to pee. As they walked in the warming sun, he unwrapped and lit one of the Cubano No. 2 cigars he'd saved for special occasions. Savoring the flavor while the smoke wafted away, his thoughts returned to last evening. Alicia occupied his every thought as he considered her looks and mannerisms. When in her presence, his passion burned hot, hotter than with women of his past. His respect for her professionalism and the command over her team intrigued him. He'd love more time together. He could fall for that woman.
Was he even capable of a lasting relationship? Alicia differed from women he’d romanced. Maybe this time would be different. Friends were few, although he had many acquaintances. He treated strangers and comrades with respect, but his friendliness had a reserved quality. He was aware he shunned real closeness. Was he ever to have a long-term relationship, accepting another as a part of his life? Laughing out loud. Do I want to change my ways?
Molly pulled on her leash, startling him back to the present. She had led him off course, more than half a mile from the park. Immersed in thought, he’d lost track of time. Molly had to be hungry. He headed Molly toward the RV park. They stopped at the park office and bought the Sunday paper. Once inside, he fed Molly before putting on the coffee pot. Two slices of toast made his breakfast, plus a banana he shared with Molly. Watching her walk to her bed to nap, he thought how lucky Molly was to live a dog's life without worrying about love and relationships and solving murders.
Even the Sunday paper couldn’t snare his attention. An article about the murder couldn't draw his attention from Alicia. He needed to review the interviews on the DVD. Alicia would be at the office working the case, staying close should something break.
Unable to stop thinking about her, he realized she had maneuvered him into talking about himself and had shared little about herself. Could he get her to open up? The woman was becoming an obsession. He'd better beware.
By noon, Hank had finished editing the wine article and emailed it to Alicia. He hoped to get her approval before he sent it to Alexi, his agent, and the magazine editor. Hungry, he prepared a sandwich and turned on the television. The Arizona Cardinals were playing the San Francisco 49ers. He could count on three hours of numbness. Now as a part-time resident of Arizona, his football allegiance had shifted from the 49ers to Arizona’s team.
Hank, good at multitasking, but watching football and surfing the internet for material on whale watching didn’t go together. He turned off the game and played Pacabel’s “Planets” on the stereo. He loaded the DVD Alicia had given him to view the Bureau interviews on the large flat screen, providing an improved look at the interview subjects. Observing body language was important during interviews. The big screen enabled him to see facial expressions and movements in more detail. The closed circuit TV cameras and recording used at the Bureau were better than those used by LAPD when Hank worked there.
An hour into the interviews, he got a chuckle out of one man's comment about Hatchett: “He sucks up a lot of atmosphere.”
Four hours later, Molly kept hitting him on his arm with her paw, begging to go for a walk. To make up for ignoring her, he played Frisbee tosses for twenty minutes. By then she wanted her dinner. As she finished her meal, his cell rang. The quick glance at his caller ID caused an intake of breath. “Hello, Alicia. What’s happening?”
“I read your article. Thanks for keeping the murder out of it.”
“You’re welcome. I keep my promises.”
“Thank you for last night, I needed an evening to relax and enjoy myself. I’d love to do it again sometime.”
“I’m the one who should be thanking you. The best evening I’ve had in ages. Dinner and conversation with a beautiful woman, couldn’t be better.”
“You’re sweet. The reason I called is to find out if you have reviewed the DVD?”
“About another hour to go. Why?”
“I have something I'd like to run by you. Are you available?”
“Now?”
“If it’s convenient for you.”
“Well, sure. Where? The office?” he asked.
“Can I come to you?”
“Sure. Have you eaten yet?”
“No. but that’s not important.”
“You can’t continue at this pace without food. Please join me for a simple dinner. I’m fixing salad and pasta.” His heart was beating a mile a minute at the prospect of seeing her again.
“I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”
Hank rushed to make a Caesar salad, got the marinara sauce out of the freezer and placed it in the microwave to thaw. He sliced a few Cremini mushrooms and an Italian sausage to add to the sauce, then removed a half loaf of garlic bread from the freezer, wrapped it in foil and placed it in the oven to thaw and heat. He switched the music to a mix of instrumentals from contemporary to classical for soothing background music.
Molly was at the door staring at an unseen image followed by a knock. She barked once. Hank opened the door to greet Alicia. “Please come in.”
The second she was through the door, Molly danced around her with tail wagging as if she were an old friend. Glad to see Molly and I are on the same page, she likes her – a lot!
“Would you like wine? I have a bottle of Barolo?” He asked leading her to the couch.
“That works. Thanks.”
Hank opened the bottle and poured two glasses. Holding up his glass to hers, he said, “Welcome, it’s great to see you again.”
“This is an exceptional wine. A Barolo? That's Italian, right?”
“Yes, it is.”
“I haven't tasted wine this good. I love it.” She took another sip, closed her eyes and said, “Mmm, wonderful.”
“I'm glad you like it.
Turning toward the kitchen, she said, “Something sure smells good.”
“I’m serving leftover pasta sauce, but the salad is fresh. Excuse me for a moment.”
“The chef needs to check on his masterpiece.” Alicia smiled.
Hank stirred the sauce, added a touch of the Barolo, got water boiling for the pasta, and stirred the salad dressing. He returned to finish setting the table.
“Leftover sauces are the best. No doubt dinner will be great. I'm impressed with your culinary skills and excellent taste. This wine is amazing.”
“It is, isn’t it?” he said.
“I didn't mention this the other night, but I love this interior. You’ve done a neat job decorating. Masculine yet comfortable.”
“Thanks. Another couple of minutes for dinner. What did you want to discuss?”
“Come, sit. Relax.” She patted the couch. “Let’s not discuss the case yet.” Sitting on the couch close to Alicia, his pulse increased, and warmth coursed through his body.
“I like your choice of music. It's soothing. Tell me more about your art studies.”
Hank, smiled, then described his fascination with Michelangelo and other Italian artists of that era. “I finally got to visit the Medici Chapel in Florence. What a masterful work of art.” He continued to elaborate on other cities and villages he visited, where sculptures, frescos, and paintings abounded.
“Your descriptions make me want to visit there someday. Maybe, after I retire, I hope.” Her expression appeared wistful to Hank.
“I know you would love these places.” A timer rang. “Sounds like the pasta is ready. Hope you’re in the mood for Italian.”
“I am and can’t wait to taste what you created for us. May I help?”
“Thanks, but I’ve got it. The salad’s ready, and I need to add the sauce to the pasta. Be right back, and we can eat.”
Within minutes he placed a beautiful hand painted Italian bowl and matching spoon filled with the pasta in the center of the table. Hank returned to the kitchen and brought out bowls of dressed salads, sliced garlic bread in a basket, and a bowl of shaved Parmesan. After refilling their wine glasses, he joined Alicia at the table. “I hope you don’t mind garlic breath. The bread's loaded.”
“So long as we both share it,” she laughed.
They talked about the interviews he'd watched on the DVD. “I noticed that Giles Ardon, chef-owner of a restaurant that Hatchett panned said he was at the rear of the train talking to a Julie somebody, a wine rep. If Austin's alibi cards are right, maybe we can verify who Julie is and with whom she talked. Ardon said he was there from eleven to one and he disliked Hatchett.”
“I'll have Austin check this. Thanks for noticing. Anything else unusual?”
“Maybe, but I'll check the DVD again. So far, that's it.”
After they had finished eating, Hank stood up to clear the table. Alicia insisted on helping. One trip was all it took.
“I’ll do the dishes in the morning. Would you like more wine?”
“No thanks. The Barolo was great, but something less intoxicating? I don’t want to pass out.”
“How about a cappuccino? I can do regular or decaf.”
“I’d love to tease you, properly that is, but for now I’ll take a decaf cappuccino,” she said, her eyes bright and focused on Hank.
While he was in the kitchen, he heard Alicia playing with Molly. He wondered what it would be like to have someone like her around all the time.
“Wow, Hank, you are a barista. I love the foam treatment. Cute.”
When she took a sip, the foam lingered on her top lip. Hank wanted to lick it.
“Delicious, Hank, thank you.”
“You're welcome. I first experienced this brand of beans when I was in Italy. Experimenting and trying to duplicate what I saw there inspires me.”
“I see why you like it. It’s crisp and refreshing, but not too sweet.” Pausing for a moment, she looked at Hank, arranging her hair from her face saying, “I feel comfortable with you. We seem to have a good time when we are together.”
“Interesting to hear you mention the same way I’m feeling. Meeting someone as awesome as you has been a highlight in my life. I’ve wanted to spend time with you ever since we first met,” Hank confessed.
“You flatter me, and I find myself drawn to you, too. I didn’t know how it would affect work, but you have a strong sense of workplace ethics that I appreciate. I hope it continues. The passion in your eyes for your police work, your writing, and life fit your actions.”
“That’s a good description. The fire is there. But you missed something.” He said, a little out of breath with excitement.
“No, I didn’t.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him on his lips, then pulled away to look at him. “You're welcome. I enjoy your company, but the kisses need to stop, or I must cut you loose from the case. I don't think either of us wants that. Do you?”
Hank shook his head. “No, but after the case is finished, can we continue?”
“Perhaps, but no promises.”
His heart sank. He'd bide his time and become indispensable to her.
I have to win her with my wit and charm. I guess I’ll have to develop wit and charm quickly if I’m going to succeed. He almost laughed out loud.
“On another subject, Hank, until we either find Caswell, Scott or another potential suspect, the case is in limbo. It will be better for me if you don't have much participation. The chief is uncomfortable involving an outsider. Getting your impressions of the interviews has been very helpful. When you finish reviewing the DVD that will be it. Besides, you have places to go.”
“You want me to leave?”
“No., no! I need to limit your involvement.”
“Okay, Alicia, I’ll do whatever you say, but you need to know I want to get to know you. So far, all we've talked about is me. I want to hear about you.” Hank hoped he didn't sound desperate. “Can you stay longer and talk with me?”
“Sorry, wish I could, but not tonight. It's late. Time went by so fast, and I need to get my rest.” Before the door closed behind her, she turned and said, “Hank, it was an enjoyable evening. Thank you.”
The night was dark and cold, no moon rising and clouds blocking the stars. It was a perfect metaphor for how Hank was feeling. He watched her drive away as the darkne
ss pulled him into its fold. When he closed the door to the darkness, he had an overpowering sense of dread and disappointment.
FOURTEEN Monday, November 25
When Hank woke on Monday morning, he thought of last night’s dinner with Alicia. He and Molly exited the motorhome for a quick walk under a crisp and overcast sky. His breath clouded in front of him. He remembered Alicia’s soft kiss on his lips. I know she said kissing was out because of our professional relationship, but when the case is over – maybe then I’ll get to find out what a passionate kiss from her would feel like. I’ve got to stop thinking of her and work.
When he resumed looking at the DVD, he concentrated with more awareness. The interview with Mrs. Jackson caught his attention. After replaying it a few more times, he was positive of what he’d picked up. Mrs. Jackson touched her mouth and looked away from the interviewer when asked about Hatchett. She was slow to answer when asked whether she had seen anyone in particular at the restroom location. “I rushed to my table,” she said. Her nervous voice was almost inaudible. Hank felt she was not telling the truth. What was she hiding? He also thought her shade of lipstick appeared similar to that found on Hatchett’s hand.
Hank called Alicia and shared his hunches. When she asked him to come to her office, a thrill ran through him. He was at the Bureau by ten.
“Good morning,” Hank said upon entering Alicia's office.
“Morning, Hank. How are you doing?” She asked with a wink.
“Great. You’re a great dinner companion, and dessert was excellent.” He grinned. Clearing his voice to a business tone, he continued, “I discovered something else from one interview. Could we look again at the floor plan of the crime scene car?”
She nodded and picked up the phone, punched on a button. “Chris, please bring the floor plan for the train cars.”
“Mrs. Jackson wasn’t telling us all that happened to her and Hatchett,” Hank shared.
Within a few moments, Agent Bridge entered the office with the plans. Handing the plans to Alicia, he said “Here, boss. What's up?”
Killer On The Train Page 8
