by Debra Webb
Whatever Banks had said to her, she was not happy. She’d called Braddock’s cell phone the instant she walked away from the meeting with the scumbag. Obviously the discussion had included Braddock, and whatever the result, it wasn’t good.
“Come in, Detective.” She left him at the door and took a seat on the sofa.
Detective, not Braddock. Oh yeah, she was not happy. He stepped inside, closed the door. “You said you had new information.” He doubted anything Banks had told her would be earth-shattering. Just more bullshit.
“Please”—he indicated a chair—“sit.”
He sat in the chair closest to her position on the sofa, then waited. After all, she’d called him.
As much as he wanted to pretend he wasn’t mentally braced on the edge of his chair, he was. After last night, he wasn’t sure about anything except to expect the unexpected.
He blocked the memories that immediately tried to fracture his concentration. That she sat on that sofa—right where he’d made his last mistake with her—disturbed him.
No, that was wrong. It tugged at him. Made him want to repeat the same mistake again. But she would never let that happen. Not in this lifetime.
CJ crossed her jean-clad legs, then folded her hands in her lap. “First, have you discovered anything new in your investigation? Any word back from the lab on the evidence collected last night?” She glared at him with enough frost to chill an iceberg. “Anything at all?”
That she didn’t want to get straight to the point of her meeting with Banks surprised him. “The blood on your wall was not human.” He’d gotten the news on the way here. “Feline.” That the blood hadn’t been Shelley’s changed nothing for Braddock. This kind of warning was Nash’s MO. He was a freak who got off on instilling fear and torturing all manner of life-forms.
CJ shuddered visibly but quickly resumed deep-freeze mode. “Is that all?”
“We also discovered an additional piece of what may or may not be evidence at the scene.” He’d give her this one thing. She still wouldn’t like or respect him, particularly after last night. Maybe she’d at least see that he and his partner were actually attempting to solve this case. “What appears to be a name was carved into the tree branch used to secure the rope.”
Her eyes widened. “What name?”
“E. Noon. Ring any bells?”
She thought about that a moment, then shook her head. “You’re saying someone climbed into that tree and carved their name on the same branch my sister was . . .”
He nodded, then briefly explained his partner’s discovery and the arborist’s assessment. The Noons who lived locally had been questioned. Following that lead had been a waste of time but necessary for covering all the bases. They were banking on the “no one” theory. That assumption played into the staging. The victim was “no one.” Insignificant.
No one fucks with me.
And it tied to his niece’s murder.
At this point, he couldn’t share any of that with CJ.
“I can’t recall ever knowing anyone with that name.” CJ fixed her gaze on his, set his instincts on point. “But I’m well aware that Shelley had a number of intimate acquaintances I didn’t know about.”
The statement hung in the air for a pulse-pounding second.
“Such as yourself, Detective Braddock.” Her voice grew more agitated with every word. “Just how intimate was your relationship with my sister?”
How the hell could she ask that? They had been over this issue before. “There was nothing intimate about my relationship with Shelley. You know that.” That she refused to give him even one iota of credit made his blood boil.
“The two of you first got acquainted after that break-in when the photographs were stolen.”
“That’s right. The photos of you and Shelley as kids.” Something else she knew as well as he did.
“I met you not long after that,” CJ said pointedly.
“Okay.” This had gone far enough. “Is there a reason we’re going over this?”
She kept going as if he hadn’t said a word. “I found you charming and intelligent. Seemingly trustworthy. A refreshing change from most of the cops I’ve known around here.”
He looked away. Resisted the urge to walk out the door. CJ was too pivotal to this case.
And too damned important to him, whether or not she ever trusted him again.
“Shelley adored you,” she said, twisting the knife she’d already buried deep in his back. “You were all she talked about whenever I called or visited.”
He swung his gaze back to hers, fury clawing at his ability to remain calm. “It was a mistake, CJ. One that I put the brakes on before it went too far. But you refuse to believe that.”
“That’s what she said.” Anger flared in her eyes. “I guess I’ll never know for sure.”
“You do know,” he reminded her, unable to keep his own anger from his tone. “Think about it. The same thing happened to you last night. Only I didn’t stop, because it was you.” He stood. Couldn’t sit there and pretend this was a civilized conversation. Goddammit.
She came off the sofa, went toe-to-toe with him. “Last night was . . .” She blinked. Sucked in a breath. “My sister is dead. Someone broke in.” She flung her hand toward the stairs. “I was angry and . . . scared.”
He wanted to reach out to her so badly it hurt, but he didn’t dare. “So was Shelley. Plenty of times.” Pain shimmered in CJ’s eyes, and seeing that was like a sucker punch to his gut. “That particular night two guys roughed her up pretty bad. She was too wasted to pick herself up off the street where they’d dumped her, so she called me.” Braddock had patched her busted lip and iced her black eye. She’d clung to him and wept like a child. Then she’d kissed him, and for an instant . . . one fucking instant . . . he’d kissed her back. Then he’d pushed her away and fought her drunken advances until she passed out. She’d been sorry the next day. They’d both been sorry. But sorry hadn’t been enough for CJ.
CJ had refused to talk about it since. To talk to him at all. The only good to come of that night was Shelley’s decision to stop hooking.
The truth was he couldn’t change what he’d done. Maybe if he were in CJ’s shoes he would feel the same way. Maybe forgiveness was too much to ask for. CJ didn’t see any aspect of sex as casual. Each step in a relationship, every kiss, was an important decision. That was the reason last night had completely blown him away. He still couldn’t believe it had happened.
“That night Shelley was scared,” he said, the anger gone from his voice. “Scared and alone. I’m sorry as hell you can’t deal with it, but it’s done. I can’t change what happened.”
“Did she tell you she was pregnant?”
Surprise flared in his gut. “Are you certain about that?” Shelley hadn’t mentioned being pregnant. She’d sworn she wasn’t in the business anymore. He’d gotten the impression once or twice that she was seeing someone. But when he’d asked, she’d insisted it was nothing. Just friends having fun.
“That’s right, Braddock.” CJ hugged her arms around herself, managed to summon some more of that anger. “She was pregnant. Ricky says you were the only man he ever saw her with.”
So that was what this was all about. Maybe it was time CJ knew the rest of the story. It wouldn’t make things any easier between them. In fact, she’d probably hate him even more. But he couldn’t keep this from her any longer. “We were friends, CJ. That’s all. I was there for her when she needed me. Kind of like Abbott is there for you,” he threw in, mainly because he was jealous as hell of how CJ idolized the older man. Abbott was perfect. Never hurt her. Never screwed up!
When she would have launched a rebuttal, he cut her off. “About three months ago Shelley brought up the idea of trying to bring down Tyrone Nash. She was sick of seeing the folks in this village preyed upon. She wanted things to change. She wanted free of his influence and control.”
Realization dawned in those blue eyes. CJ could see where he
was going. But he knew she wasn’t going to understand.
“So you took her up on it?” she accused. “Used her?” She shook her head. “I knew it.”
“I recognize my responsibility in her death.” No point in pretending otherwise. It haunted him every minute of every day, right alongside his responsibility in his niece’s death. The fight suddenly drained out of him. He dropped back into the chair. “If I hadn’t agreed to allow her participation, she might still be alive.”
CJ stood there without saying anything.
Braddock wished there was something he could say or do, but there was nothing . . . other than making the man responsible for Shelley’s murder pay. “The goal was noble,” he went on when she said nothing, asked nothing. “Shelley let me know in no uncertain terms that if I didn’t help her, she would attempt her goal alone. I couldn’t let her do that.”
“She didn’t tell me what the two of you were doing,” CJ finally said absently, as if her full attention was somewhere else—anywhere but here with him.
“Did she tell you she was pregnant?” he ventured, knowing that couldn’t be the case since CJ hadn’t mentioned it when she’d ID’d the body.
“No.” Pain cracked in her voice and he wanted to take back the question but it was too late.
“I found prenatal vitamins from her last visit to the clinic.” She chewed her bottom lip a moment before continuing. “She just got the lab results on Friday. But that leaves plenty of time for her to have informed the father, who likely found the idea more than a little inconvenient.”
“Shelley didn’t talk to me about being involved with anyone. When I specifically asked that question, she insisted the only thing she did was hang out with friends.” He was as surprised to hear Shelley had been pregnant as CJ must have been. “Our every conversation and meeting was focused on Nash. She wanted to initiate change, I wanted to help her. That’s all there was between us. Ever.”
CJ blinked as if coming out of a trance. A kaleidoscope of emotions played out across her face, finally landing on that too-familiar rage at him. “I guess that makes you a hero, Braddock. What was she doing? Passing along Nash’s movements, his schedule, to you? Playing the part of undercover operative for your investigation? You helped her, all right.” CJ backed a step away from him, distancing herself physically and emotionally. “Helped her get murdered.”
The band of guilt tightened around his chest. He wasn’t trying to dodge the bullet here. He knew exactly what he’d done.
“And the baby,” CJ added as if she’d only just thought of it herself. “The baby was murdered, too. Seems like she gave up a hell of a lot to let you help her. I hope you’re doing the same to find her killer.”
She turned away from him, walked to the door, opened it wide. “Goodbye, Detective Braddock.”
He couldn’t argue with her anymore. At the door, he hesitated. “Think very carefully about how you proceed from here, CJ,” he cautioned. “Nash will be watching you. That warning he left said it all. No matter the good you think you’re doing, the wrong kind of interference could get you hurt, and it could adversely affect this investigation.”
“Is that a threat?”
What the hell? “No, it’s not a threat. It’s a statement of fact. I’m on top of this investigation. I won’t stop until it’s done.”
Anger tightened her lips. “Consider yourself warned, Detective. I won’t stop until it’s done.”
CJ marched down the steps and watched Braddock drive away. Her body shook with the fury twisting through her. Why hadn’t Shelley told her about this? That one was simple: Shelley had known CJ would attempt to talk her out of the idea.
Why hadn’t Braddock told her? Another easy answer: They hadn’t been on speaking terms. And he had known she wouldn’t agree with the decision. Even now, he knew more than he was sharing. Every time they discussed the investigation, she got that feeling that he was leaving something out.
And Jesus Christ, she had been right.
This was her sister, dammit!
She had a right to know what really happened. She had a right to see Shelley’s killer brought to justice.
She had a right . . .
Tears spilled past her lashes. CJ scrubbed them away. No more crying. She damned well wasn’t going to be vulnerable. She was going to see this through.
She braced her arms over her chest and surveyed the street, the homes. Most of the residents she could name, had known them her entire life. This was where she’d grown up, where she’d learned the hard way that life was what you made it.
Her sister, these people, deserved justice the same as anyone else in this damned city.
Like she’d told Braddock, she wasn’t going anywhere until this was done.
An approaching car slowed, rolled to the curb in front of her house.
Edward.
As if to defy her decision, he emerged, his gaze seeking and unerringly finding hers.
He was not going to be happy about her plans.
“I was worried.” He closed the car door and made his way to the rickety gate. “I hadn’t heard from you since this morning. Are you all right?”
No, she wasn’t all right.
“I’m sorry.” She raked her fingers through her hair. “I should have called.” She motioned for him to come in. “I’m glad you’re here. We need to talk.”
He didn’t ask any questions. But he didn’t have to. She could already see the disappointment on his face.
Inside, he waited until she’d settled on the sofa before taking a seat. Always the perfect gentleman.
“Have you eaten?”
And always concerned for her well-being.
“At some point today.” She would, she just hadn’t taken the time yet. But he would worry if she told him the truth. She couldn’t tell him about last night’s break-in, either. He would insist she stay at his home. She needed to be here. He wouldn’t understand, given the circumstances.
Having Edward here made her feel even guiltier about what had happened between her and Braddock. She was a grown woman and Edward wasn’t her father, but she had worked hard her entire life not to disappoint him.
“Have you made a decision about when you’re returning to Baltimore?”
She pushed aside the unsettling thoughts of last night. Her decision. It hadn’t been an easy one to make, but it was the right one. “I went to the clinic today.”
“I’m surprised the village clinic is still in operation.”
She was too. “Wednesdays and Fridays only.”
“But today is Monday.”
“The nurse practitioner was there catching up on paperwork. Juanita Lusk. We actually attended the university together.”
“Was there a reason you visited the clinic? You’re not feeling ill, are you?”
CJ leaned forward, braced her elbows on her knees. “Edward, I learned that Shelley was pregnant. About six weeks.”
Sadness settled in his features. “I’m certain that news makes this all the more difficult for you.”
She tamped down the emotions that threatened. “Very much so. But,” she went on, bracing for his disapproval, “this news only reinforces my feelings. I can’t leave until the police have done their job.” She held up a hand when he would have spoken.
“If I leave now, Shelley’s case will get pushed to the back burner. She’ll be forgotten and nothing will ever get done. I can’t let that happen.”
Edward nodded thoughtfully. “And what about your residency? You must not forget your own future, CJ. I understand what you feel you need to do for your sister, but you can’t rationalize yourself out of the equation.”
“You’re absolutely right.” She’d thought long and hard on how to go about this without damaging her future. “I called my attending this morning. I discussed my options with him and he agreed that my plan is a viable one. Since I’m a third-year resident, I have a number of elective hours remaining. I’m going to stay here and ensure Braddock does
his job. While I’m here, whether for a few weeks or a couple of months, I can help out at the clinic to fulfill my elective hours. My attending was quite impressed with the idea. He believes the experience will serve me well in the future, both personally and professionally.”
CJ took a breath. She’d gotten it out without falling apart or stumbling. There was no reason for Edward not to see the brilliance in her plan.
He considered her announcement for a time. “Your proposal is sound. And your attending is quite right. Service in a disadvantaged area such as this will show compassion and selflessness.”
There was a but coming. She steeled for it.
“I understand that you feel you must do this. My only reservation would be about allowing yourself to get caught up in the people and problems here. This is your hometown and it’s very easy to permit a sense of obligation to stand in the way of better things. The misery in this village will drain your determination and ambition if you are not very careful.”
He presented a rational, practical case. That was true. But Shelley hadn’t been his sister. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t possibly know how she felt. Not deep inside, where this horrific act had left a hole so deep CJ worried she might just fall in and disappear.
Before she could restate her case, he went on, “Let me hire a private investigator to find the truth. Waiting for the police to come through will be frustrating and perhaps pointless.”
There was an option she hadn’t considered. “I appreciate the offer, Edward.” She clasped her hands, struggled to find the right words to explain what she felt. “You’ve always been there when I needed you. But this is something I have to do personally.”
“Do the police have anything at all in the way of evidence or suspects? What about that Banks fellow? He was the one who hurt Shelley a few weeks ago, was he not?”
“He says not.” CJ understood perfectly that, like Braddock, he wasn’t telling her the whole story. “He also swears he’s not the father of Shelley’s child. But I’m not so sure. Shelley had been tangled up with him for most of her life. My work at the clinic will give me the opportunity to talk to the people who come in. Maybe find the answer to this awful puzzle.”
