by Layne, Lyssa
“Enough said. You can stay in Christine's old apartment over the garage.” Harry dug into his pocket and pulled a ring of keys. “Get some rest then cut out early tomorrow. If you need anything, just call.”
“Thanks Harry.” Christine leaned forward, placing a kiss on his cheek.
“Go out the back door, that way no one will see you.”
“What about my bike? It’s out front.”
“Give me the keys. I’ll park it in the garage and leave the keys in the ignition.”
Brad extended his hand, “Thanks Harry and I promise I’ll take care of her.”
“Best you keep that promise, detective, or you'll have a lot worse than an arrest warrant tailing you. I guarantee the result won't be pretty.” Harry's scowling gape trapped Brad until he nodded agreement.
“She's as safe with me as if she were with you, Harry. I won't let anything happen to her.” Brad refused to look away from Harry's assessing dark eyes. The older man nodded and slapped Brad's shoulder.
“Then get along with ya.”
Christine led the way, stealing into the dark of the night.
Her old room was small and smelled a little musty, but it was home.
Brad sat on the double bed which was pushed up against the front wall.
The same thick green and orange tropical leafed curtains hung on the windows flanking the bed. Christine ran a finger across the dusty nightstand then turned on the single lamp. The wind-up alarm clock was not working. On the other side of the room sat a small table and two chairs. A tall dresser stood beside the bathroom door. Brad leaned back against the headrest and motioned for Christine into his arms. She joined him and they clung to each other secure in the comfort such a simple room provided. Christine relaxed feeling safe for the moment.
“What are we going to do?”
“I don’t know? I can’t believe they actually put an APB out on us. I should’ve known better than to trust Roberts. That son-of-a-bitch screwed us big time.”
Curling into Brad’s side, she snuggled closer as her blood turned to ice racing down her spine. “I’m afraid. They didn’t just put that bulletin out on you. They mentioned me as a suspect well. That means they’re trying to claim I’m your accomplice and you know as well as I do we didn’t even meet until after Marty died. Shouldn’t we go back and explain that to them?”
“It won’t be difficult to clear your name. No way am I going to go back until I get the all clear from Joe. As of this minute he and Nick are the only ones I trust. I’ll call Joe’s house tonight and see where we stand. If you want to go back, I’ll gladly put you on a bus. But starting tomorrow morning I’m out of here.” He kissed the top of her head to soften the harsh words.
“Where are we going?”
“We?”
She gaped up at him. “You don’t actually think I’m going to leave you alone, do you? Besides, if I go back I’m just in as much trouble as you are. And frankly, I trust you more. I have faith in you. I feel safer here with you, than alone back there.” Christine squeezed his hand.
“But is faith enough?” He stared deep into her eyes gauging her response.
“On faith alone, I know you’re the kind of man I trust with my life. That’s not easy for me to say, not after my past. But I know in my heart you’ll do everything in your power to protect me and that means more to me than you’ll ever understand.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Absolutely! Did you mean what you said to Harry?”
“About what?”
“That you love me?”
He sniffed. “Yes, it’s not the most romantic way I could have said it, but I do. Is that okay with you?”
“I meant it as well.” She blushed and moved away intent on grabbing her backpack. “Besides, what else am I going to do? I don’t have a shop anymore, and other than the two jobs I brought with me, I have no prospect of work until I get this whole mess straightened out. No one is going to buy my pictures as long as my name is in the paper with any kind of negative publicity.” She shifted for a more comfortable position then settled her head on his chest.
“I’m so sorry about what this is doing to your career.” His fingers stroked her arm.
“Will you knock it off? You didn’t do anything. So unless you want to piss me off, just shut up.”
“You’re lucky I like my women feisty and with a backbone.”
“Women?” She tried to sit up, but he held her in place.
“Okay, woman. Satisfied?” He snickered and jostled her.
“That's better, Detective. I'd hate to hurt you.” Christine smiled up at him. Gave him an intent fixed look then gave him a quick, shy nod.
“By the way, what work did you bring? What can you do from here?” Brad kicked off one boot then the other, settling deeper into the mattress.
“I’ve recently done two projects. One will be a piece of cake. I took two rolls of pictures of this gal who wants me to put together her modeling portfolio. Of those eighty pictures I have to pick the best of the shots and print a bunch of black and whites. I can choose those from here and mail them back to my assistant's home since the office is gone. She can ship them to the client.” She placed her hand on his chest and smoothed it over the hard muscles beneath the soft cloth of his shirt.
“What’s the other job?” He took her hand and studied it, brought it to his lips and kissed her palm. She loved these tender moments with him. The feel of his lips, the sensual feel of his kiss, the heat of his breath on her palm.
“I have to go over the shots of a rags-to-riches story. I’ll put the pictures into chronological order, then ship them to the writer I’m working with. From there she’ll use her notes to put together her story for the local paper and their planned Thanksgiving tribute.”
“What’s the story about” He caressed and kissed her fingertips one by one.
Christine lost her ability to breathe as she watched his lips touch her skin sending little sparks of fire up her arm, through her chest, and settling in a very private place.
“I—uh—” She cleared her throat. “About five years ago, Maddie Robinson lost her husband, to cancer. The hospital bills piled up and she lost their home. By the time the insurance paid off the hospital and funeral, there wasn’t a dime left.” Christine closed her eyes as Brad placed a chaste kiss to the inside of her wrist. How was she expected to concentrate when he was doing wild and wonderful thing to her senses? She swallowed the turtle in her throat and tried to ignore his gentle ministrations.
“Her only job had been as a housewife, so with Nate gone and no family of her own, she ended up in a woman’s shelter. The problem is they only let her stay a week. They tried to get her all set up for Welfare, but she didn’t have enough money saved for a cheap apartment.” She snuggled closer as he tightened his hold on her shoulders. “Without a permanent residence, they wouldn’t start her welfare payments. This forced Maddie to start sleeping in her car. She had no job skills so she just went door-to-door offering to clean houses, do their laundry, do the baking or whatever needed to be done. Before she knew it she had so many referrals that she didn’t have enough time in a day to do all the work.”
“What did she do then?” Brad placed a sweet kiss at her temple.
Christine leaned in to it, savoring the moment, almost forgetting her story.
“She remembered the other ladies of the shelter, and went to see if any of them were interested in helping her out. In six months she ended up hiring several women, getting them off the streets, out of the shelters, and off welfare. Ever hear of Maddie’s Maids? Well, that’s my Maddie.”
He leaned his head back and stared at her. “Are you kidding? That company is doing great and from what I hear, she’s a hot commodity. She gets all her workers from the shelters, helping women get back on their feet and becoming independent.”
“A real bona fide rags-to-riches story.”
Brad shifted to a more comfortable position, and then brought Ch
ristine back into his embrace.
She reveled in the strength of his arms around her, secure in the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm.
“She never gave up. It’s a matter of never losing sight of what she wanted. She refused to let life keep her down. It would have been so easy to give into her fears, but she wanted better for herself. Since then, she’s remarried, has one baby and another on the way.” She reached out and laced her fingers with his. “She’s someone I can totally relate to. At first, I didn’t have that inner will. I caved. Jared pulled me up, got me involved in photography and introduced me to the AIDS ward during therapy. That’s why I’m so worried about him. He saved my life, now I’ve put him in danger.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll call Joe shortly and see if he has any updates on him.” He nuzzled the side of her face.
Somehow, his day old scruff was as reassuring as his presence. Wouldn't it be nice to wake up to him every day?
Christine couldn’t put it off any long and scooted off the bed and padded to the chair for her backpack.
Brad stared off into space.
She withdrew the first of the envelopes, scanned the pictures, then circled the ones showing off the model’s best assets.
Brad watched her as she shoved the proofs back into the envelope, wrote final instructions to her assistant, then sealed the envelope. He smiled as she pulled out a second set of photos, a small concentrated crease wrinkled her brow. He settled back, his hands pillowed beneath his head closed his eyes. Was she aware there were more meaningful “things” they could be doing right now? His smile widened. He felt like the proverbial cat.
Christine eyed the shots of Maddie. Her frown told him something was off kilter. She pulled the bedside lamp closer and scanned the pictures with a magnifying glass she'd plucked from her backpack. She scrutinized one particular frame on the second set of proofs.
“Brad?”
“Hmm.” He grinned. If only she knew what he was thinking.
“Check this out for me, please.”
He blinked and lifted his head. “What?”
“Is it my imagination or is this Dean Fletcher?” The expression on her face worried him.
“What are you talking about?” Brad rolled closer, taking the magnifying glass she offered as well as the proof sheet. He glanced at Christine then back down at the sheet. “I don’t get it? What’s Dean doing in the background of your pictures? When did you take these?” Brad flipped the picture over, to see if the sheet was dated.
“That’s just it. I took these at the end of June so we’d have enough time to do a thorough story on Maddie and her business. Why?”
“Do you have any enlargements of these? I can’t see the woman’s face but there’s something vaguely familiar about her. There’s also a third and fourth person in the picture, too. Do you have any others before or after this one?” He took the sheet from her and started at the beginning taking in every single detail from the background to the clothing each person wore. After the fourth sheet, he sat back, brows furrowed, wondering what he'd missed.
It was definitely Dean with the woman. Who was she and why were they in Chris’ photographs? And that worried him, but not as much as seeing the District Attorney with Jaime Geiger who he’d arrested in the bank robbery when he’d saved the mayor’s wife. What the hell was he doing out of jail? He should still be there awaiting his trail. What worried him most was that in one picture he’d swear it looked as if Dean and the DA had made eye contact. A chill ran down his spine.
“Do you remember seeing any of these men that day at all?”
“No. That’s just it. We were strictly concentrating on the places Maddie had stayed. We took pictures at the shelter and in the various places she parked her car so she wouldn’t be caught. We took photos of some of the homes where people gave her a start.
This is the last place we photographed.” Christine tapped a finger to the print. “This is the entrance to her new office.”
Again, she tapped the page. “See this one? We pulled back further so we could get the entire building face, along with the company name on the front window.”
Christine pointed to the last picture, Dean had his arm around the dark haired woman, escorting her away from the cameras, but Dean was looking back over his shoulder. He didn’t like this one little bit. Why would Dean be anywhere near the DA? Why was Jaime Geiger out of jail?
“Think hard Chris. Do you remember that woman or anything about her or Dean?” Brad picked the sheet up and moved the magnifying glass over it from various angles.
“No, nothing. Is it important?” She re-positioned herself on the bed cross-legged.
“I don’t know. Far as I know he’s not seeing anyone, but this sure looks damn cozy to me.”
“Well, while you ponder that, I'm going to the bathroom.” She slid off the bed and onto her feet. “Will you please call Joe? I have to know how Jared is.”
“Sure, you go get the dust cleaned off and I’ll make some calls.” Brad scowled. What the hell was going on?
He hesitated a moment before he dragged the phone onto the bed, then dialed the hospital. No telling if Jared’s hospital room was being bugged or not, but he’d made Chris a promise and he’d see it through. Maybe not the wisest choice at the moment, but he'd made worse decisions. He had to talk to Joe. There was definitely something in the air.
What the hell was he missing?
He didn't imagine finding those bullets or that someone had stolen them. He didn’t imagine the fix they were in. He also didn’t like what he’d seen on those photographs. Damn it, who was responsible for this hell? He'd give a month’s pay to find out who it was.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Joe grabbed at the receiver in Jared's room before the end of the first ring. “Hello?” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
“Hey Joe, any update?”
“You okay? Where are you?” Relief flooded Joe’s senses.
“I hope this is a secure line?”
Joe shook his head as if he expected Brad to see him. Two nurses were in the room checking Jared's IV and his vitals. They weren't paying attention, but that didn't mean anything. He didn't think hospital phones could be tapped, but what the hell did he know?
“No. wait! Don't tell me where you are.” Hell, the whole damned hospital could be bugged. He squelched the urge to begin a search. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, was nothing ever easy? Joe rubbed his forehead. He could feel a whale of a headache coming on. Shit!
“Understood. How’s Jared? Chris is worried about him.”
“He’s going to be fine. They’re keeping him in the hospital for observation and I’m pulling twenty-four hour guard duty. Voluntarily. I’m not leaving his side, so don’t worry about him.”
“Glad to hear that, but what the hell is going on? What’s the APB about?”
“Vince went postal when he found out I told you to get lost. He thinks I helped a murder suspect get away.”
“What aren’t you saying, Joe? I can hear it in your voice.”
Joe blew out a breath and sank heavily back into his chair. “Vince took my badge and gun. I’m on suspension until this is over.” God, he sounded pathetic. He hated people who sniveled and whined about the least thing and here he was doing it.
“Damn him,” Brad said.
“I’m so sorry, I’ll help you and Kim make any payments you need. I can’t use my checkbook right now or we’ll leave a paper trail.”
Joe shook his head, saying, “We'll be okay. Do you have enough money?
“Yeah, we’re fine for now. Hey, by the way, as far as you know, is Fletcher involved with a woman?”
“Why, what’s up?” Joe squared his shoulders and pressed the phone tighter against his ear.
“Chris grabbed some work at her office this morning and one of the pictures shows Fletcher hugging some woman. Something about the female looks familiar, but it’s only a profile and off the top of my head I just can’t place her.”
Joe pinched the bridge of his nose, turning away as the nurse left the room. “That’s the least of your worries, partner. It looks like the search for the three men has been narrowed down to Geiger. What can you tell me about him?” Joe paced. The small room was beginning to feel smaller by the minute. A football field would be too small right now.
“Damn, that’s what I was afraid of. This was before your time. One of the last cases Marty and I broke as a team was a drug lab run by Felix Geiger and his younger brother Jaime. During the raid Felix was killed. Jaime swore he'd get even with us for it.”
“So it’s possible that Jaime’s behind Marty’s killing?” Joe dragged fingers through his hair as he paced from window to the door and back.
“That’s just it, we arrested Jaime during the bank robbery, where we saved the Mayor’s wife. Well, those same pictures of Chris’ show he’s not in jail. He’s was on the sidewalk, talking to the DA. Why is he out? And Dean is in the same batch with a woman. We need to know, and fast. If he’s out, then I think we found our shooter. See if you can get Vince to track him down.”
“I’ll do that.” Joe stopped at the foot of Jared's bed.
“Keep your mouth shut and your eyes open. Something’s going on and I’m convinced someone in the department is behind it.”
“Why?”
“Think about it, why are Dean, Jaime, and the DA in one picture. A photograph Chris took. Sorry, but there is no logical reason for that.”
“It has to be a coincidence? What's your next move?”
“Do me a favor. I want you to go talk to Rosie. Ask her to tell you where my hometown is. That’s where I’ll be. But make sure you and Rosie keep that to yourselves. Under no circumstances do I want anyone to know where we are. You got that?”
“Done! I’ll have to wait until they release Jared tomorrow, and take him with me. He’ll be safe at my place until this blows over.”
“That sounds good to me.” Brad coughed, then said, “I’ll leave word with Nick and you can check in with him. No one knows my connection to him, so that’s about the only chance we have to keep in touch. I'll make sure to call him two or three times a day.”
