Sandra had a pair of eye-catching knockers. Being a guy, it was the first thing he noticed about her. But her only claim to fame wasn’t just her big boobs. Sandra had graduated first in her class at John D. Holt and after eight years on the force, she’d proven what a good cop she was.
“It’s going,” Jim replied. He’d thought about asking Sandra out, but wasn’t sure she’d be interested. Since her divorce became final three months ago, every single guy on the force and a couple of married ones had asked her out. She’d shot all of them down. Even Chad.
She held out a sheet of paper. “I filled in the VICAP form with the information on the Vanderley and Wells murders, per your request, and here’s what I got. I think you’ll find this very interesting.”
The department had a special computer program that generated a request form with all pertinent information about a crime that linked to the FBI’s Violent Crime Apprehension Program. At the time of Lulu’s death, they hadn’t figured it was connected to any other murders, believing that someone who knew Lulu personally had committed the crime. But after Kendall Wells’s murder, the scenario changed. Although Chad and the department as a whole believed Quinn Cortez was the guilty party, Jim’s gut instincts told him something different.
What if both women had been murdered by a serial killer, someone who had killed before and would kill again? He’d put in calls to the Bureau of Investigation in several surrounding states these past couple of days, hoping to connect his two murders with other murders. No luck. Not in Alabama, Mississippi, Georgia, Arkansas and his home state of Tennessee. Chad was supposed to check the VICAP today, but since he was in Austinville playing love-sick fool, Jim had asked Sandra if she’d do it for him. Now that he’d taken a look at the DNA results on Lulu Vanderley’s fetus, he felt all the more certain that they were dealing with a serial killer, not a crime of passion.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” He took the e-mail message from her hand. After he’d read it, he let out a long, low whistle.
“Three murders with the exact same MO as ours showed up,” Sandra said.
He noted the names of the police departments and the investigators involved in each case. “One in Louisiana nearly a year ago and two in Texas. One four months ago and the other…nearly two years ago.”
“Quinn Cortez is from Houston, Texas, isn’t he? One of those murders took place in Dallas and the other in Baytown, which is practically a suburb of Houston.”
“Hmm…” Jim read the names of the three victims: Joy Ellis in New Orleans; Carla Millican in Dallas; and Kelley Fleming in Baytown, Texas.
“Want me to get in touch with each department tonight and see what I can find out?” Sandra asked.
“Don’t you have any plans for this evening?” he asked.
“Not tonight. I’m just going home, taking a hot bath and curling up with a good book. I don’t mind staying and placing those calls. I can give them my cell number.”
“You can give them mine,” Jim told her.
“You don’t want to be disturbed while you’re having dinner with Kevin, do you?”
When he looked at her questioningly, she smiled. Sandra had a downright pretty smile, although she wasn’t a pretty woman. But she was attractive in a rough, earthy way.
“I heard you telling Ed,” she explained. “About having dinner with your kid and ex-wife. So, let me make those calls, give them my cell number and then later tonight, on your way home, drop by my apartment and I’ll give you whatever info I get.”
Was Sandra inviting him for more than sharing information or was he reading her all wrong? “I can do that,” he heard himself saying.
Her smile broadened. “I live on Union Avenue in midtown. It’s a quaint old apartment complex called the Georgian Woods.” She picked up a pad and pen from his desk and jotted down something on the pad, then tore off the top sheet and handed it to him. “My address and phone number. Come by anytime tonight. It doesn’t matter how late.”
Jim suddenly felt warm, all the way from his dry mouth to his twitching dick. “Yeah, sure. I’ll see you later then.”
He waited a few minutes after she left before he stood up, needing time for his erection to deflate. God, he was bad off if just the thought of getting laid could give him a chunky.
Once he could get up without embarrassing himself, he stood, removed his jacket from the back of his chair, put it on and headed out of the office. First things first. And his son always came first with Jim. When Kevin had called and invited him to supper at seven, he’d asked if Kevin had checked with his mother before issuing the invitation. “It was her idea, Dad.” Whenever Mary Lee was nice to him—and inviting him to dinner was being nice—he got suspicious. Since their divorce, Mary Lee went out of her way to make his life miserable every chance she got, so she had to have an ulterior motive for inviting him to supper and allowing him extra time with Kevin.
Watch your back, Norton. Mary Lee’s liable to stick a knife in it when you least expect it.
Annabelle walked Chad to the door, then went out onto the veranda with him. The sky was clear, stars bright and twinkling, the half moon creamy yellow against the inky black backdrop. When the sun went down, temperatures dropped rapidly and she imagined it wasn’t much more than sixty degrees right now and would probably drop into the low fifties by dawn. The black silk suit she’d worn today, though long-sleeved, did little to protect her from the chilly evening breeze.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your coming down for the funeral and staying on until after everyone left,” Annabelle said. Although he wasn’t the man she’d wanted at her side, not the guardian she’d longed to see her through this unhappy day, Chad had been a godsend to all of them, even Uncle Louis, who had been genuinely pleased to meet one of the detectives working to solve Lulu’s murder.
“I’m just glad I could be of help in some small way.” Chad took her hand in his. “Annabelle, I hope you know how special you are to me.”
She resisted her first instinct—to jerk her hand away— and instead offered him a forced smile. “I don’t quite know how to respond to that. We met only a week ago and under very trying circumstances. It would be unwise for us to—”
“Say no more.” He squeezed her hand gently. “I simply wanted you to know how I felt. I only hope that you would like for us to become better acquainted.”
“Yes, certainly.”
Tugging on her hand, he pulled her to him. And then unexpectedly, he kissed her on the lips. Quickly, but thoroughly. Startled by his actions, Annabelle was speechless. It was wrong of her to lead Chad on, to let him think there could be more between them than friendship. But how could she explain? She could hardly say, “I like you, Chad, but I think I’ve done the unforgivable and fallen in love with Quinn Cortez. And yes, I’ve known him for only a week and yes, I know he’s a notorious womanizer and a possible suspect in Lulu’s murder. And yes, a thousand times yes, you would be so much better for me than he would. But the heart doesn’t act on reason, only on emotion.”
The sudden ringing of Chad’s cell phone startled her. She gasped aloud.
He shoved back his jacket on the left side and retrieved his phone from the belt clip. “Sorry about this. I’ve had it turned off most of the afternoon and just turned it back on a few minutes ago.” He hit the ON button and put the phone to his ear. “Sergeant George here.”
Annabelle rubbed her hands up and down her arms in an effort to warm herself. The cool springtime breeze had picked up considerably in the last few minutes.
“Yeah, that’s good. Tomorrow morning. Sure, I’ll inform Ms. Vanderley,” Chad said to the caller. “And yes, I’m coming back to Memphis tonight. See you in the morning.” Chad returned his phone to the belt clip.
“What was that all about?”
“That was Jim. He said the DNA report on Lulu’s fetus would be available in the morning.”
“This soon?”
“I asked for a rush job.”
�
��You think the child was Quinn Cortez’s, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do. And tomorrow morning we’ll find out for sure.” He looked at her longingly. “I’ll call you as soon as I can in the morning and tell you the results.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
He acted as if he wanted to kiss her again, so she took several steps back, toward the closed front door. “Drive carefully. And again, thank you for…for today.”
“Take care of yourself, Annabelle. And if you need me, I’m just a phone call away.”
She waited on the veranda and watched him until he got in his car, then she turned and went back into the house. Warmth greeted her inside the mansion, as did Aunt Perdita.
“A rather interesting young man,” Perdita said. “He’s quite taken with you, my dear.”
“I like Chad. He’s a nice person.”
“A suitable suitor.” Perdita grinned as she laced her arm through Annabelle’s. “I have coffee waiting in the back parlor.”
“Is it just the two of us?” Annabelle asked.
“Yes. Isn’t that nice? Wythe went out the back door an hour ago, got in his car and drove off. At least that’s what Hiram told me. Once he’d put on a show of tortured mourning for Louis and the rest of our family and friends, he hightailed it out of here.”
“He can stay gone for all I care.”
Annabelle followed her aunt down the hall and into the back parlor, which had been, in times past, the ladies’ parlor. Decorated in light shades of blue and green and filled with priceless antiques, this was Annabelle’s favorite room in the mansion. She remembered playing dominoes and checkers in this room with her Grandmother Vanderley, a notorious cheat who wanted to win at all costs. Once this house had been filled with laughter and love. Now only sadness dwelled within these ancient walls.
“You should go home, to your own house,” Perdita said as she poured their coffee from the silver pot atop the silver tray on the tea table. “Why don’t we pack first thing in the morning and—”
“I’m going back to Memphis in the morning,” Annabelle said as she accepted a cup from her aunt.
Perdita eyed her inquiringly. “I thought you didn’t intend to return to Memphis for the time being, not until you’d worked through whatever feelings you have for the Cortez man.”
Annabelle sat in one of the two chairs flanking the tea table. After pouring herself another cup of coffee, Perdita took the opposite chair.
“There’s something I didn’t tell Uncle Louis and I made Wythe promise not to tell him,” Annabelle said. “You see, Lulu was pregnant. Approximately six weeks.”
Perdita’s mouth opened on a silent ah-ha. “Was Quinn Cortez the father?”
“He says not, but…she did have other lovers who could have fathered the child. Three men gave DNA samples to be compared to the fetus’s DNA. Chad received a call right before he left telling him the results of the DNA testing would be in tomorrow morning.”
“You don’t have to go back to Memphis just for that.” When Perdita lifted her cup to her lips, she looked right at Annabelle and then said, “Ah…” She took a sip of the coffee. “It’s such a pity you didn’t meet Mr. Cortez under different circumstances.”
Annabelle gazed down into the cup and sighed. “Go ahead and call me a fool. I am, you know. I want to be there with him when we find out if he was the baby’s father.”
“Oh, my poor Annabelle. Life plays cruel tricks on us sometimes, doesn’t it?”
Kevin paused in the doorway between the living room and hall. “Ah, Mom, why can’t I stay up just a little while longer. It’s not like Dad’s here every night.”
“I said no.” Mary Lee pointed her finger toward the corridor leading to the bathroom. “Go brush your teeth and get ready for bed. It’s ten-thirty. I let you stay up thirty minutes later than usual.”
When Kevin gave her a pleading look, she frowned. “Your dad will come in and say good night before he leaves.”
“Go on, pal. Do what your mother says.” Jim could fault Mary Lee on many issues and she might not be the ideal mother, but she tried her best. When she set rules for Kevin, Jim did what he could to support her.
When Kevin reluctantly disappeared down the hall, Mary Lee turned to Jim. “Want another beer?”
“No, thanks.”
Just as he’d predicted, Mary Lee had ordered pizza and served them cold beer and their son iced cola. They’d eaten store-bought chocolate chip cookies for dessert and then Jim had helped Kevin with his homework while Mary Lee cleaned up. It wasn’t fair to compare his ex-wife to his mom, who’d baked homemade cookies on a regular basis. And who had been a loving, supportive and faithful wife until her dying day.
You’re not the man your dad was either, he reminded himself. If you’d been a better husband, maybe Mary Lee would have been a better wife.
“How are those murder cases going?” Mary Lee asked. “You haven’t arrested that big shot lawyer from Texas, have you? Quinn Cortez. God, even the guy’s name sounds sexy.”
Mary Lee would think a name could sound sexy. Bet she’d jump Cortez’s bones in a New York minute if given half the chance.
“No, we haven’t made an arrest yet.”
“Want to sit down?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I’ll just go say good night to Kevin and then leave.”
Mary Lee came up to him. “Look, let’s lay our cards on the table, okay?”
Here it comes. Whatever reason she invited me to dinner and let me have this extra time with Kevin. “Sure thing.”
“I know that you know I’ve been having a thing with Chad.”
Was that it? Was that what the invitation to dinner had been about? Did she honestly think he’d give a damn? Had she been concerned about how he would react when he found out? “Yeah. So?”
“Don’t you care?” She inched closer, so close that her breasts almost touched his chest.
There had been a time that whenever Mary Lee just walked into a room, he got hard. “Why should I care?”
With her body leaning into his, she lifted her arms and placed them around his neck. “Aren’t you just the least bit jealous? Don’t you wish you were getting some from me instead of him? The sex was always good for us, wasn’t it, Jimmy?”
His dick twitched as old memories flickered through his mind. “Yeah, babe, the sex was always good.” He clasped his fingers around her arms and removed them from his neck, then took a step backward, putting some breathing room between them.
She glanced down at his crotch and smiled when she noted his partially aroused state. “Why don’t you stick around and after Kevin goes to sleep—”
“I can’t,” he said. Damn, he was tempted to stay. A part of him still wanted her. Yeah, the part that didn’t have a lick of sense. “I’ve got a late night date.” He wasn’t lying. Not exactly. Sandra had suggested he drop by tonight and she’d all but told him he’d be welcome to spend the night.
Mary Lee’s nostrils flared as she took in several quick, sharp breaths. He knew that look. She was pissed.
“This was a one-time-only offer,” she told him. “Take it or leave it, but know this—I won’t ask you again.”
Yeah, she would. In the years since their divorce, she’d made the offer at least once every six months and every time he rejected her she swore it would be the last time.
“Hey, Dad, I’m ready for bed,” Kevin called from down the hall.
“I’ll go say good night to Kevin.” Jim glanced at his ex-wife briefly, then left her standing there fuming.
“Be right there,” Jim told Kevin as he walked out of the living room, halfway expecting Mary Lee to start screaming at him.
But she didn’t. And when he came out of Kevin’s room ten minutes later, she was sitting in front of the TV and didn’t even acknowledge his presence when he said good night.
Annabelle had soaked in the tub for nearly an hour after coming upstairs to her room at Vanderley Hall, hoping it would relax
her enough so that she could sleep. But as she lay in bed, her eyes wide open and staring up at the twelve-foot ceiling, she realized that she probably should have asked Aunt Perdita for one of her sleeping pills.
Her aunt was a walking drugstore, keeping a large variety of prescription and nonprescription medication with her at all times.
“You never know when you or a friend will need something for pain or to sleep or to pep you up,” Perdita had once told Annabelle.
Maybe she should go down the hall and knock on her aunt’s door. What would it hurt to take a sleeping pill tonight since she so rarely used anything stronger than an aspirin? Just as Annabelle flung the covers back and slid to the edge of the bed, her cell phone rang. Knowing before she lifted the phone from the nightstand who the caller was, she snatched the phone up, flipped it open and said, “Hello.”
“Are you all right?” Quinn asked.
“I am now,” she replied honestly.
“Rough day, huh?”
“A really bad one.”
“I guess you know the Memphis PD will have the DNA test results tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, I know,” she said.
“Did Jim Norton call you?”
“He called Sergeant George, who in turn told me.”
Silence.
“Quinn?”
“Chad George was at Lulu’s funeral? He was there with you this evening?”
“Yes.”
“He’s got a thing for you, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, I believe he does.”
“How do you feel about him?” Quinn asked.
“I should tell you that it’s none of your business how I feel about him, but…He’s what my parents would have referred to as a very suitable young man.”
“Meaning he’s a white Anglo-Saxon Protestant from a respectable middle-class background and is an up-and-coming member of a time-honored profession.”
“Yes.”
“He’s much better for you than I am. You’d be a fool to reject him in favor of me, considering I have none of his attributes to recommend me.”
Amnesia Page 26
