“I was here this afternoon. She was one of the ones we put on the list. I’d been gathering further intel before turning the names over to Seaberg. I had to be sure we weren’t having knee-jerk reactions.” It was best to tell them upfront before Jordan found out from other sources and twisted things around. “She was upset. I stayed an hour on the front step with her and her dog. I went to Lieutenant Colonel Seaberg’s after that, then home. I’m sure you covered my ass from that point on.”
“More or less.” Jordan glanced toward the house.
“She wasn’t the guilty party here,” Greg told him. “Her husband was.” He filled them in on the details as he knew them.
“Then if it’s the same killer, he made a mistake,” Lani said.
“Let’s hope it’s to our benefit.” Greg forced his feet to move. A flash of blonde to his left caught his attention. Mita stood, her paws braced on the edge of the door, inside a military police vehicle parked in the driveway. Her yaps called to him, her body quivered with every tail wag. She was looking right at him.
“Thank God you’re here.” Lieutenant Cornwall met them at the front door.
“What’ve we got?” Lani reached for some disposal booties placed nearby.
A quick scan revealed nothing out of place outside. No blood, no door busted in. Of course, in the dark the tiniest detail might be missed.
“I don’t see any yellow ribbon.” Jordan covered his shoes.
“She’d ripped it down earlier when I showed up,” Greg said. “Kept wrapping it around her fingers.”
“There’s one inside.” Cornwall jerked his chin toward the interior. “The killer used it to bind her.”
“Where’s the husband?” Lani took a cautious step inside, her sharp eyes scanning everything in her path.
“Probably in Oceanside with his new girlfriend by now,” Greg muttered. Bloody paw prints were scattered throughout the living room, leading to and from the bedroom. Poor Mita. “He’d have no motive. He left her. How was she discovered?”
Cornwall clutched a pen in one fist and his logbook in the other. Greg had seen that haunted look in people’s eyes before. He didn’t know whether to tell Cornwall it would get better or admit to him it only got worse and that he might grow immune to the sight of death one day.
“Neighbors came to check on her because she was so upset.” Cornwall cleared his throat. “They didn’t want her to be alone. The dog started barking and clawing at the door when she heard them. They found the sliding glass door in back unsecured and came in. Once they saw the bloody paw prints, they found her and called it in.”
Greg, Lani, Jordan, and Cornwall made their way toward the bedroom.
“If all those beer bottles in the trash are hers, she would have been passed out or been close to it by the time the killer showed up,” Cornwall said. “Most likely access was the sliding glass door. There are footprints all over the place. Hard to tell which might be the killer’s. There’d been a lot of traffic helping the husband pack up.”
Cornwall hung back while Lani, Greg, and Jordan stood in the doorway viewing the scene. Yes, it was very similar to the first murders. But there were also marked differences.
“It lacks rage.” Lani waved her hand, indicating nothing in particular. “No sign of struggle or surprise. No defensive wounds. No blood spatter. She was dead before she was stabbed.”
“Smothered maybe?” Cornwall pointed to the burgundy bed pillows. “Looks like there’s something smeared on the pillowcase that could be saliva. Her face is bruised. I didn’t want to screw anything up by looking closer.” He pointed to the corner of the bedroom. “Looks like dog pee over there.”
Greg’s heart squeezed a little harder for the dog. “Any sign Mita attacked the killer?”
“She had blood on her paws and muzzle. So far the CID sergeant didn’t find any obvious signs of clothing fibers, blood drops that might suggest a wound, or injuries to the dog that might suggest he fought her. Special Agent Beck’s team is on the way to process.”
“Why Shepard? She didn’t do anything. She’s been gone until this afternoon. Unless something happened overseas.” The dresser mirror reflected Lani’s frown.
“Maybe something did happen, and it only came to light this afternoon,” Jordan suggested. “Maybe there was mutual screwing around.”
Greg shook his head. “No, she was into her second beer when I saw her and finished two more while I was here. She would have said something to me.”
Jordan snorted. “Why? Because you’re the father confessor of them all?”
The last straw. “You know what?” You’re an ass. “I’ve had about all I can take. I’m calling it a night.”
Jordan looked too smug for his own good. Cornwall had swallowed his tongue. Lani…
He didn’t trust himself to look at her. No one tried to stop him as he walked away. Greg barely acknowledged Pattison and Juarez when they walked in the door to nose around. They sure didn’t waste any time getting there. Both looked like they’d tumbled out of bed into whatever jeans and T-shirt they could find in the laundry basket. Greg spun on the men.
“Not one more step, detectives.”
They turned slowly, hands clasping their wrists, daring him to make an issue of their presence. They’d picked the wrong time to fuck with him.
“Did Beck call you in?” It was only fair to give them the benefit of a doubt. Since Jordan had responded to the original murders at Pattison’s request, maybe Jordan had called them now. On the surface the murders were connected.
“I got a tip, but not from Beck,” Pattison said. “Thought it wouldn’t hurt to check it out.”
“For now the scene belongs to PMO. Get out.” Greg jerked his chin toward their vehicle. “If Jordan wants you here once NCIS takes over, that’s his ass. I don’t want you here any more than you wanted me at the Tipton/Whittaker scene.” Maybe even less. “You’ve already fucked up the scene.” He pointed to their uncovered sneakers.
One of them mumbled something as Cornwall escorted them to their car. Greg couldn’t give a shit. He’d issued his decree and wasn’t afraid to have the MPs see it was carried out. Or do it himself, for that matter. God, he was walking a tightrope. He had to get the hell out of there before he did something stupid. Again. He was racking up the idiot points tonight.
Greg stepped into the cool night and breathed in some sweet desert air. It didn’t help shatter the nightmare of his day, the loss that twisted his gut, the loneliness that stretched to infinity and beyond.
“I can’t have her in my house!” a woman shrieked. “Look at her!”
The her in question was Mita. A snarling, barking, insanely mad Mita. She clawed and bit at the window. A cocker turned pit bull. What the fuck was going on? Someone or something had upset her. The dog’s focus was on the house. Greg jerked his head around to see what it was. All he saw was the empty doorway.
“Shoot her!” someone screamed. And one of the lance corporals on duty actually had the nerve to draw his weapon.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Greg charged the marine.
The kid’s eyes bugged out. “Master guns, the dog’s gone mad. She’s been like that off and on all night.”
“No shit. The dog’s been through hell and back today, and now she’s locked in the back of a strange vehicle with no human contact. I want you in my office zero six-thirty Monday morning. I’ll decide then if you’re still fit to carry that badge and weapon.” He strode to the military police vehicle, knowing everyone in earshot watched him. Greg didn’t give a shit about that either. Once he was by the window, he raised his palm. “Hush, Mita. Hush.”
She sat, her brown eyes locked on him. “Good, girl.”
Greg unlocked the rear door and scooped the dog into his arms. Mita wiggled with delight and slapped tongue kisses all over his chin. Blood stained her paws. Looked like they had a stop to make before he took her home. No one was pulling evidence off this dog but him.
“What’s going on?�
�� Lani ran up to him, Corporal Mathias right behind.
Greg’s heart was on his sleeve. He would have laid it all out for Lani if Mathias hadn’t been tagging along. “I’m giving this little dog a safe haven. Shoot, maybe a permanent home if she’ll have me.” He scratched her chest. Mita lifted her paw to give him better access. Instant love. Why couldn’t it be that easy with Lani? “Good night, Captain…Corporal.”
He forced himself to walk away, silently chanting, Come home with me, Lani, with every step.
Of all the things to do to capture her heart forever. Giving safe haven to a traumatized dog. It wasn’t the first time Greg had cared for an animal. Strays showed up at his doorstep constantly. He stocked a small emergency stash of pet food, supplies, and first aid. But this…now… If she didn’t already love him, this act would have sealed the deal.
Who was she fooling? Lani’s heart had been Greg’s for months.
The remnants of her anger dissipated. Her confusion lingered. They needed to talk. It wouldn’t lead to anything more; she knew that. Now that they’d been exposed, their careers were over. Unless she could convince Jordan to back off.
Lani considered the alternative, the revelation they’d been involved, the courts-martial to follow. Did it really matter? Wasn’t that man with the wriggling cocker spaniel tucked in his arms like a hyperactive toddler more important? Careers would come and go. Who could fault them for having fallen in love?
Correction. She’d fallen in love. Greg called them done. Who could blame him? He’d put in twenty-plus years in the Marine Corps and had much more to lose than she did. The security of his retirement and all the benefits that came with it were at risk.
“That’s the type of person I hope to be one day,” Corporal Mathias said.
Lani had forgotten he was standing beside her. Would he still feel that way once the whole truth, past and present, came out? “You and me both, Corporal,” she said with a small laugh. Jordan could do whatever he wanted to her career, but she’d be damned if she let him take Greg down.
“Everything all right?” Lieutenant Cornwall walked up, a swagger in his step that had never existed before.
Lani didn’t know he had it in him, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. “Everything’s fine. You did an excellent job tonight, lieutenant. I’m pleased. Trust me; I know how difficult something like this is.” All too well.
“I can handle things here if you’d like to leave. You and Master Gunnery Sergeant Landess have been through the wringer the last couple of days.”
He had no idea. “Thanks. I will. Once the NCIS team arrives, you can call it a night and let them process everything unless they need further support.”
“I’ll advise Special Agent Beck, ma’am.”
“No need. I’ll talk to him. Double-check the MPs to make sure they’ve talked to all the neighbors hovering about.”
“Will do, ma’am.”
They split off in two different directions. Lani had never seen the man more confident. Thank God he’d finally stepped up to the plate.
She found Jordan staring at the crime scene, lost in thought, furrows permanently etched between his eyebrows.
“Greg duking it out with Pattison and Juarez?” he asked.
“No. They’ve gone.”
“Good. The last thing I want right now is those two up my ass.” He huffed a fake laugh. “Any more than I suppose you and Greg want me up yours.”
Did she really need to respond to that?
“I need to go thank him for intervening.” He cracked his back as he stretched upright.
“He’s gone too. He took the dog home.”
That cold, calculating mask she’d grown to hate returned. Lani wouldn’t let him make something out of Greg’s concern for the dog.
“We need to have a word.”
“Very well.” His features relaxed with his nod.
Lani walked on without waiting. He caught up quickly, yet said nothing until they stood by her car away from eavesdroppers.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Let it go, Jordan. Please.”
To his credit, he didn’t feign innocence of what she was speaking.
“He’s a good man, Jordan. He’s helped so many people over the years. Helped shape hundreds of marines who’ll carry that legacy on. Don’t ruin all the good he’s done.”
“The two of you violated the UCMJ. The general—”
“It’s over between us. What does it truly matter? Look… Do what you want to me, but please leave Greg out of it.”
He stared down at her, his face void of expression, like she was a suspect he wanted to trip up. Maybe she was. They had violated military rules. An out-and-out confession would clinch the deal for him.
“I’ll consider it.” Jordan left her standing there, his spine ramrod straight as he marched back to the house.
It was the best she could hope for.
Lani watched the activity from a distance, searching for anomalies among the crowd. What could have sparked the killer’s interest about this woman? She’d only returned from overseas that afternoon. No yellow ribbon draped her door. Jeanette Shepard had removed it herself. No emotion existed in this killing. The murder was determined and methodical, as if he was trying to prove a point. But why this woman and not another, equally alone female across the street with yellow ribbons strung all around the house? Because Shepard was drunk and didn’t fight back?
She nodded. A possibility. In the close quarters of base housing, someone would have heard a struggle. Shepard was defenseless, passed out from booze. Smothered, then posed with yellow ribbons binding her. Different from the previous murders, yet the same. A killer evolving.
Lani shivered at the thought. She didn’t have the stomach or the expertise to deal with a serial killer. They’d have to call in the FBI. They could have it. She doubted that would sit well with Jordan or Pattison, or Juarez either, since he’d decided it was time to prove himself. They could hash it out between themselves. Lani was done.
The word punched her in the gut. Maybe she and Greg were over, but not like this. Not without talking about what lay between them. Jordan was occupied. No one would know she’d gone to Greg’s. If Greg wouldn’t let her past the door, so be it. But she had to try. What they’d had didn’t deserve to be ended with harsh words. If she would never see him again, never know the pleasure of his touch, the warmth of his body pressing into hers, then at least they could part on good terms with memories to last a lifetime.
She reached his house in record time. Inside and outside lights greeted her. Lani briefly considered ringing the bell. Instead, she used her key for what would be the last time and walked in the front door. Two stainless steel dog bowls sat out of the way on the kitchen floor. One contained water; the other was empty. She heard Greg in the laundry room telling Mita what a good girl she was and that it would be over soon.
Lani walked that way, then leaned against the doorjamb to watch Greg try to towel dry the cocker. Tail a wag, Mita shook. Droplets exploded to the four corners of the room, catching Lani in the fallout. She didn’t budge.
“Now here comes the hard part,” Greg told her. “You’ve got to sit still while I brush and dry you. Don’t worry. I’ve got Lani’s high quality blow-dryer here, and I can assure you, she won’t mind us using it.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Would you?”
She should have known she couldn’t get past his ninja senses. “I don’t mind at all.”
“I collected what evidence I could from her.” He motioned to the evidence bags on the opposite counter. “Blood on her paws. I did a comb through, clipped her nails. Didn’t find anything in her teeth. She’s been a good sport about it all. She’s a good dog.” He flicked on the blow-dryer. Mita dutifully sat, eyes closed, sucking in the warmth as Greg groomed her.
“You realize Shepard’s husband will probably want her back.”
“I doubt it. Shepard told me that he loved Mita too, but didn’t want to be tied down w
ith a dog. He and his girlfriend wanted to be free to come and go as they please.”
“The two of you talked a lot this afternoon.”
“She talked. I listened.”
Greg brought that out in people. They naturally wanted to confide in him. Lani couldn’t fault him for that.
“I should have stayed with her,” he said. “My instincts told me not to leave her alone. I ignored them. I had to get that stupid list to Seaberg. If it weren’t for that, she might still be alive. I was rattled after I talked with him. All I wanted was to get home.”
To her, and she’d screwed it up by jumping all over him the minute he’d walked in the door. Followed it up by a rash, childish act. Look what it had gotten them. She longed to wrap her arms around him and tell him it was all right, that there was nothing he could have done. If she’d been surer of what remained of their friendship, Lani would have done so. It killed her to stand there and do nothing.
“Want me to put out some food for Mita?” she asked.
“A handful, please. I want her to feel comfortable but don’t want to risk upsetting her stomach. I hated to give her a bath, but…”
The bloodstained tufts of fur around her paws made it necessary.
“I didn’t get much to eat tonight. I imagine you didn’t either.” Lani rubbed a sudden chill from her arms. “How about some grilled cheese sandwiches and a glass of ice-cold milk?”
“Sounds like a deal to me. We won’t be long.”
Uncharacteristic tears flooded Greg’s eyes. He turned off the dryer while he blinked his vision clear. His heart ached for Lani’s arms around him, comforting him, telling him it was going to be all right. Hell, it was never going to be all right again.
Mita hooked her paw over his forearm—a request that he get back to business. Greg managed a chuckle and clicked the dryer on.
“Sorry. Don’t know what I was thinking.”
Yeah, he did. He was thinking of Lani. Always Lani. Somehow her scent had cut through that of the dog shampoo when she’d walked up to the door. Or maybe he’d heard her over the running water. No, none of that. He’d sensed her. Like the very essence of who Lani was had wriggled through his body. He’d wished for her to come to him, and here she was. Greg was afraid to ask her why she had come, afraid she’d tell him she’d come to pick up her things. His heart couldn’t take that right now.
Yellow Ribbons Page 13
