Josie drew her head back in surprise. “Me? Who’s Erica Morgan?” Then dawning came to her. “Isn’t she one of the Alphabet Killer’s victims?”
Just as Trevor had suspected, Josie didn’t know Erica, much less her boyfriend. “Yes. Hershel Stewart was her ex-boyfriend. He claims to have seen you with Erica before she was killed. Apparently you met her for lunch.”
Josie screwed up her face to that news. “What? I didn’t have lunch with Erica, and I don’t even know anyone named Hershel Stewart. Who is he and what does he have to do with Regina?”
“We aren’t sure yet. We thought he lied, so we came to talk to you about it.” He glanced up and down the alley, hearing sirens stop in front of the pizza restaurant. They’d have to answer questions. The chief would need to know what happened.
“We think he’s hiding something,” Jocelyn said, starting to walk toward the back door of the pizza restaurant. “Or afraid of being accused of something he didn’t do.”
Trevor loved how she thought the same as him. They almost didn’t need to talk out loud. Usually they were on the same track—except when she insisted on posing as bait. But even then, Trevor had to admit if she wasn’t pregnant and he didn’t want to get naked with her all the time, he’d agree it was a good idea.
“Do you think he could be the killer and not Regina?” Josie asked.
“He looks guilty, lying the way he did, but Regina wrote the letter with the bull’s-eye to Matthew,” Jocelyn said.
The killer had to be female. Trevor didn’t think they were wrong about that. Regina was still their strongest suspect. But Hershel must know something about Erica’s death, or he wouldn’t have lied to cover his tracks.
“It’s the kingpin,” Josie said. “It has to be. One of them must still be on the loose.”
“That makes no sense,” Trevor countered. “How could the kingpin be related to Erica’s murder?”
“Maybe this gunman isn’t related,” Jocelyn said.
“Right. Kingpin.” Josie stopped at the pizza restaurant door.
“No.” Trevor shook his head. “That’s not possible. This is something different.”
“Stalker.” Jocelyn reached for the door handle, but it was locked.
“Stalkers don’t kill their victims. That’s the whole point in stalking. They savor the lurking and scaring.” Trevor knocked on the door and then looked at his sister. “Erica had a red bull’s-eye on her forehead and your ex-fiancé was seen with a woman with long dark hair. That’s what had everyone thinking you were the Alphabet Killer.”
Josie considered that a moment. “You really think this is connected to the murders?”
“I think it’s possible.”
“Hershel could be trying to put more suspicion on you,” Jocelyn said. “He doesn’t know about Regina Willard, or doesn’t believe she’s the killer.”
Josie mulled that over, not resisting the plausibility. “A copycat of a copycat?”
The back door opened and an officer appeared. Trevor showed him his badge.
* * *
With Trevor worried about Josie, Jocelyn walked with him to the All Night Diner. He’d put an agent on Josie, but he’d gone to the bathroom when she left the house. A call to her confirmed she’d gone with Chris and Holly for lunch. Inside the entry, Jocelyn looked for the waitress she’d hurt but didn’t see her. Probably, she’d taken some time off to recover...
Chris and his fiancée headed for them ahead of Josie. They’d just finished lunch.
“Hey, big brother.” Chris leaned in for a hug. “You here for lunch?”
Chris’s demeanor with Trevor had changed drastically since they’d talked. Trevor stepped back from the embrace. He finally had his little brother back.
“Josie’s bodyguard lost track of her,” Trevor said.
“And being the protector he is,” Jocelyn said in her teasing tone, “he had to come see for himself that you were all right.”
“Hi, Jocelyn.” Josie said, and then to her brother, “I am capable to taking care of myself, you know.”
“Don’t even start that,” he said.
“Jocelyn, it’s good to see you again.” Holly smiled and gave her hand a squeeze, which Jocelyn found peculiar. She’d never been this chummy with her before.
Beside Holly, Chris grinned in a similar way. Both wore expressions as though they’d just been let in on a secret—that involved Jocelyn.
They made a striking couple; Chris, tall and muscular with bright blue eyes and dark blond hair that made them really stand out, and Holly, whose willowy figure and long blond hair would be the envy of lots of women. From what Jocelyn had heard, Chris had been her knight in shining armor, saving Holly from her malicious in-laws.
Through the course of the investigation, Jocelyn had run into Trevor’s family this way, whenever she was with him and their paths crossed. Although, the encounters had always been professional. This felt...more personal.
Holly glanced down as she released Jocelyn’s hand. Jocelyn saw her catch sight of her other hand. Chris followed Holly’s gaze.
Jocelyn tucked her left hand behind her leg a bit, but it was too late.
“What’s this?” Holly took Jocelyn’s left hand to inspect the ring, looking over at Trevor with an open mouth.
Josie smiled. “He’s got one, too.”
Chris looked up at his brother. “What have you been holding back from us?”
He seemed almost injurious. What had caused that reaction? She checked Trevor and couldn’t tell how he felt. Were he and his brother close?
“We were married earlier this week.” He turned with a proud grin to Jocelyn. “Jocelyn is pregnant.”
Was he acting? Jocelyn eyed him as she tried to decipher his expression.
Josie inhaled. Holly put her hand to her upper chest. And Chris took a second to recover.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Chris asked, his hurt obvious.
“It happened so fast. And with everything going on, this is the first chance I had.”
Jocelyn had to agree there. “Shotgun.”
Trevor sent her an unappreciative look.
“Of all the Colton boys, I’d have thought you’d be the last to get hitched,” Josie said.
Why? Jocelyn wanted to ask but kept quiet.
“Congratulations, Trevor.” Chris stepped forward to give him a brotherly pat, no longer injured.
“We have to have a party for you.” Josie looked at Jocelyn. “You didn’t have a shower, did you?”
Jocelyn shook her head. She didn’t really need one.
“And a bachelorette party.” Holly winked.
“Oh, you don’t have to go to all that trouble.”
“It’s no trouble. You’re part of the family now,” Josie said.
An unmarked, dark sedan pulled to the curb in front of the restaurant. Josie’s agent. He looked apologetically at Trevor when he got out and waited for her to get in.
“I’m only doing this for you.” Josie rose up onto her toes to kiss Trevor’s cheek. Then she headed for the car. There, she turned back. “I’ll be in touch with the party details.” She waved cheerily.
Jocelyn waved back with considerably less enthusiasm. She found little point in celebrating a fake marriage. The baby was a different matter.
“We should get going, too,” Chris said. “We promised to meet Ethan this afternoon.”
“Good seeing you.” Trevor hugged him.
Again, Jocelyn noticed the stiffness between them. Watching them walk down the sidewalk as the car drove away, Jocelyn asked, “What’s going on between the two of you?”
Trevor shot a glance her way, clearly surprised she’d picked up on the vibes between him and Chris. “Nothing.” He started walking.
She walked beside him. “You seem like...” What was the word? “Strangers. And yet, you’re not.”
“Being sent to separate foster homes does that to family members.”
He’d grown surly. The state had torn his family apart. Jocelyn could see how that would distance the siblings, but where had the tension come from? Chris was younger than Trevor.
“Did he feel abandoned?” she asked.
“You’re too insightful, Jocelyn. Yes. He thought I didn’t try to get custody of him. Now he knows I did try. We’re getting close again.”
His adolescence had such a profound impact on him. He sounded upset, or unsettled, at odds. Uncomfortable. As though the closeness bothered him. As a teenager, he’d learned to harden himself to his circumstances. Now, as an adult, he couldn’t break the wall.
No wonder he’d rushed into marriage. Had he given it any further thought, he’d have surely backed out.
Chapter 8
Trevor enjoyed the art of interrogation. Picking out details subjects sometimes didn’t realize they’d missed, and getting them to fall into his trap. Waiting until the last minute to show them what he knew about them, expose them for liars.
Why did the chase appeal to him so much? He never liked to go down that dark path. Because he liked the chase. He liked catching killers. He liked looking into their empty eyes with life in his, letting them know he’d beat their evil game. But he never liked facing why. The unquenchable thirst of beating, catching and punishing his father—over and over again—was what drove him. Would he ever escape the need to bury the ugliness of what his father had done?
Hershel Stewart sat with his dirty, jeans-clad legs open, leaning back, eyes unblinking and waiting for the questions to begin. He’d been through this before. Trevor had his sheet. He knew his rights. Knew the system. He’d play it until Trevor was forced to let him walk. Trevor knew he was innocent. And yet he’d lied. The guilty always lied, but sometimes the innocent lied.
Trevor had thought this through in detail. Hershel wasn’t guilty. Not of murder. But he might reveal something significant. He’d asked Jocelyn to stay in the room behind one-way glass. This would be a man-to-man talk. Hershel might feel safer to talk that way.
Hershel lived by street code. No white picket fence childhood for this kid. Typical tragedy. Except his soul hadn’t given up the fight, not completely.
“You were never a suspect in Erica Morgan’s murder,” Trevor said.
The straightforward announcement elicited a slow, comprehensive blink in Hershel.
“We’re looking for a woman who works as a waitress,” he said. “I can’t discuss many details.”
Trevor sat down across from him and folded his hands on the table.
Hershel leaned forward, hands flat on the table. “Then why am I here?”
“How do you know Josie Colton?” He treated her as a person involved in the investigation, not his sister. Making it too personal might lose him some ground. Keep it friendly, nonthreatening and never personal. Criminals talked when compelled.
“She’s your sister.”
“You...know her because she’s my sister?”
“I didn’t know that until after you came to see me. I heard she was a suspect in Erica’s murder.”
“Where did you hear that? Who told you?”
“I don’t know, man.” He sat up and leaned back in that slouching pose again. “Some friends talked at a party.”
“Why did you lie about Josie meeting Erica?”
Hershel lowered his head. “I didn’t lie.”
“No?”
“No.” After his defensive response, Hershel lifted his head. “Okay, maybe I did. But I didn’t kill her. I was afraid of being pinned for Erica’s murder.”
“Why would you be afraid of that?”
He shrugged without looking at him. “I was her boyfriend. We split up.”
Now that, Trevor believed. “Where were you the night she was killed?”
“Out drinking. A bunch of us went to Fort Worth that night.”
“So, you had an alibi. Nothing to be afraid of.” He kept his tone even.
“I left early.”
“So, you could have gone to the crime scene in time?”
Hershel propped his elbow on the armchair and tapped his curled fingers against his chin, a nervous movement. “I thought you said you were looking for a woman.”
“We are, but you lied to us. I’m trying to find out why.”
“I told you.” He lowered his hand.
“Tell me about Erica. You both still had feelings for each other. You wanted to get back together with her. That’s not the MO of a killer.”
As Trevor intended, Hershel visibly relaxed. “I love Erica. I loved her.”
Trevor nodded his understanding, not saying anything to stop any inclination to keep talking.
“We just fought a lot.”
He stuck with what he’d said previously.
“I wanted to talk it through, you know?” He looked imploringly at Trevor. “She liked to go to this burger place outside of town. I went there the day she was killed.”
Trevor perked up to this news. Hershel had seen Erica the day of her murder, and she’d gone to a restaurant. “Where was this? What’s the name of the burger restaurant?”
“Buckaroo Burgers.”
“Did you see her there?”
“Yeah. She was having dinner with a man.” He grew visibly hurt. “We had words. I just wanted to talk to her.”
“Did you notice anything else? Did you go inside the restaurant?”
“Yeah. They were still eating. I went to their table and asked her to come outside with me to talk. She refused and said it was over. I didn’t believe her.”
“When you first arrived, did you notice anything about the waitstaff?”
Hershel drew his head back, not understanding the strange question. “They were ordering when I got there.” He shrugged. “Erica was picky with her orders. She always took a long time.”
“Did the waitress seem annoyed?”
“They all are annoyed.” He breathed a laugh. “Yeah, the lady was annoyed.”
“What did she look like?”
He thought a moment. “I don’t really remember. I was more into Erica. I guess she had dark hair, back in a ponytail. Average-type lady. Nothing special to look at. I don’t remember much about her.” He looked closer at Trevor. “You think the waitress killed her?”
“We’re looking at every possibility. Why did you say you saw Josie with Erica?”
“Everybody said she was a suspect.”
Trever wasn’t sure if he picked up on some hesitation in Hershel’s tone. Had he tried to put more suspicion on Josie and off himself? Possibly.
Deciding he had enough for now, Trevor said, “Thanks for talking to me today. You’re free to go.”
Trevor left the interrogation room, excited for this lead.
Jocelyn came striding with equal excitement out of the observation room. “Do you think she could still work there?”
“If Erica’s waitress was our subject, maybe. She could work for more than one restaurant.”
“She’s been so hard to track, though.”
“Let’s go talk to the manager there.”
Jocelyn stopped, putting her hand on his bicep to make him do the same.
The force of it did nothing to that end, but the contact made him aware of her physically and that had more to do with it. Call it heat. Heat stopped him, or the opportunity it presented his man instincts.
“No,” she said adamantly. “You have to send another agent, and you have to do it quietly. We’ll go there for dinner tonight.”
“Why not go right now?”
“Dinner. I need time to get ready.” With that, she lowered her hand and walked away, glancing back with a sexy wink.
Great. He was in for some torture. Sweet torture.
* * *
Jocelyn dressed sexy for a very specific purpose. While her pregnancy still didn’t show, she could get away with this figure-hugging black number. Tease Trevor. Make him admit the mistake in rushing into this marriage. She’d just have to ignore the other, nagging desire to also make him realize what a catch she was, family package and all. Entering the restaurant with burning heat that had ignited the moment he’d seen her come out of the bedroom, she felt emboldened.
He held the door for her and their gazes locked as she passed by, feeling his warm breath and then his hand on her lower back. At their table, he pulled out her chair and she sat down.
“See? It’s not so tough being a gentleman,” she said.
He sat across from her, his dark eyes never leaving her. “I’m a gentleman?”
“But we’re supposed to be working, Agent Colton.” She didn’t even have to try to put the sultry tone in her voice. Is this how he behaved outside of work? “You’re crossing your own line.”
“We are working. We’re a couple out for dinner. A married couple.” He glanced around the restaurant.
Jocelyn did, too, looking for a waitress who might fit the description of Regina Willard. Not seeing anyone, she turned back to Trevor. “So, you’re just acting?”
The left side of his mouth hitched up. “I don’t have to act when I’m with you. Didn’t you notice the night I got you pregnant?”
It wasn’t like Trevor to be this blunt—especially regarding intimacy. He hadn’t pretended that night. Neither had she.
“I want what you want, Jocelyn.”
What was that? A family? House, kids, dog and a cat? Everything? “You’re saying...this is real.” For him?
He reached across the table and put his hand over hers. “I’m saying I’d like to give it a real shot.”
Tingles chased up from where he touched. Dare she believe him? Trust in this? She needed to be sure. “But...you never wanted a family. You might have thought you did, but you didn’t.”
A Baby for Agent Colton Page 11
