by Anne Patrick
"There are a lot of dark Monte Carlo's with tinted windows, Gwen."
"Mr. Henderson was certain it was him, and seeing as how two days prior, they got into a verbal altercation at work, it isn't that big of a leap to think it was Bartlett."
Ian was on the fence as to whether or not Dawson Bartlett was a person of interest in the robberies and the murder of Mrs. Gyman. Bartlett did seem like a good suspect in the murder of his family, though.
Last night, he had read through the case file Gwen left on his desk. It contained autopsy reports, the horrific crime scene photos, neighbors' testimonies, interviews with family friends and co-workers, along with Gwen's case notes. But without a witness, or a solid piece of evidence that could link Bartlett to either crime, they couldn't touch him.
"What's your next move?" Had it been another detective in his squad he probably wouldn't allow them to pursue Bartlett on just suspicion. Gwen was smart, though, and he trusted her instincts. She didn't have the highest closure rate in the unit because of luck.
The corner of her mouth lifted as she met his gaze. "Sitting on his house and, with any luck, catching him in the act. He got less than a hundred bucks last weekend, that isn't going to support his gambling habit. Plus, I'm on call tonight anyway."
"What time do you want to head over there?" Bartlett was a dangerous man. On the off chance the kid was involved, Ian wasn't about to let her go solo on this.
"Excuse me?"
"Nick is probably on a date, and Harris and Todd are no doubt with their families. You're not going alone, and I have nothing better to do."
"All right. My car or yours?"
"How long have you had your SUV?"
She thought about it. "Four years."
"We'll take mine. He probably remembers yours."
Gwen waived Steph down and borrowed a pen from her. After jotting down her address on a napkin, she handed it to him. "We should probably be at his place between eleven-thirty and midnight. Most liquor stores around here close at two on the weekends."
"Sounds good." Ian picked up a piece of pizza. It was his first stakeout in years. He couldn't help but be excited.
*****
Ian pulled up in front of the three-story yellow brick apartment building. Gwen stood just inside the black wrought iron fence. She waved then hoisted a small backpack over her shoulder and headed his way.
Gwen climbed into the passenger side and dropped her bag on the floorboard behind his seat. "I forgot you had a classic Mustang, we're liable to stick out like a Lamborghini on a VW lot."
"Just buckle up."
Gwen laughed. "Yes, sir."
Ian followed her directions to 2130 Rosewood Lane and parked a block and a half short of the two-story Cape Cod home, with custom wrought iron fencing and a double garage. It was an upscale neighborhood, million-dollar-plus homes on both sides of the tree-lined street.
Gwen reached behind his seat and picked up her backpack. She took out a pair of binoculars and laid them on the seat beside her and then removed a thermos and two thermal cups.
"I was hoping you brought coffee."
She poured him a cup and handed it to him. "And snacks."
"Brownies?" he hoped.
"Peanut butter crackers and chocolate chip cookies."
"That'll work." Ian set his coffee in the dual cup holder near his gearshift and picked up the binoculars. Peering through the lenses, he saw several lights on in the downstairs portion of the home. "What made you wanna become a cop, Gwen?"
"In college I dated a cop."
He glanced over to find her grinning.
"Our first date, he took me on a stakeout. Some kid was breaking into the dorms, stealing laptops. An hour in, we spotted the guy with a small duffle bag. My date told me to stay in the car—"
"But of course you didn't."
"Yeah I did. I slid over behind the wheel and circled around to the rear of the building. The kid came barreling into the street and ran right into me. My date then tackled him and slapped the cuffs on him. A search of a nearby dumpster yielded the duffle bag with three laptops in it."
"So you commandeered a police car." Ian laid the binoculars on the console.
"He shouldn't have left the keys in it." Gwen leaned against her door, glancing toward the Bartlett house. "How about you?"
"I come from a family of cops. My dad retired as chief and my older brother still works in narcotics." Ian looked at his watch. It was a quarter after midnight. "This cop from college, is he your ex-husband?"
"No. I met David while in uniform. My partner introduced us." Gwen grabbed the binoculars.
"How long were you married?"
"Three years. Would've been shorter than that if I weren't so stubborn."
"What do you mean?"
"After I found out David was cheating on me, I stayed with him. He swore it was a one-time thing and it'd never happen again. I believed him. It took me another year to realize how big a fool I was. I think deep down, I knew all along he wouldn't change, but I didn't want to admit I'd failed in my marriage."
"You blamed yourself?"
"It wasn't so much that." She smiled at him. "I just don't like losing. At anything."
Ian was glad it hadn't jaded her view of men, that she had the courage to move on with her life. It was hard to picture Jake and her together, though. He was a nice enough guy, but Gwen seemed a lot more mature.
"I've got movement. The garage door just went up."
Ian started his engine but didn't turn on the headlights. A black, late model, Monte Carlo pulled out of the drive and drove toward them. "Get down!"
They both ducked, their heads almost colliding. The combination of Gwen's perfume and the warmth of her breath on his cheek made Ian's heart race. Their gazes locked. Time seemingly stopped. All he thought about was her full, perfect lips, and how much he wanted to kiss them.
She smiled. "We're gonna loose him."
Ian swallowed hard. "Right." He quickly shifted into gear and did a U-turn. His heart continued to race. What in the world am I thinking? They'd only known one another a week. He was her boss for heaven's sake. And she was dating someone else.
"You might wanna turn on your lights."
Regaining his composure, Ian reached down and pulled out the knob. "'87 Chevy Monte Carlo SS. Gotta say, the kid has good taste in cars."
"I kind of liked the Porsche myself." He glanced over and she continued. "Within a week of receiving his inheritance, he bought a custom ordered nine-eleven. Cherry red."
"He doesn't still own it?"
"If he does, it's not registered with DMV. I'm surprised he kept the Monte Carlo. It's the one he used to drive."
"Was it ever checked for blood or trace evidence?"
"Yes. Had a friend, who happens to be a judge, sign off on a search of his car and apartment. He must've gotten rid of whatever clothes he wore when he killed his family. My guess is he wore protective clothing and disposed of it all afterward."
"In your case notes, you made mention that he was familiar with forensics. Did he take courses in college?"
"No, but one of his classmates mentioned having seen him with a couple of books relating to crime scenes and police procedure. They weren't in his apartment, or his folk's home. He either got rid of them or they came from a library somewhere. I'd love a look at his financials, but that's not likely to happen."
"Not without some real proof." Ian was careful to stay far enough behind the Monte Carlo so as not to raise suspicion.
"Yeah, I got ripped over the last search warrant."
"I'm surprised you were able to get one. This judge must be a real close friend of yours."
"He is," she spoke softly.
Ian knew there was a story there but he didn't pursue it. Another time maybe.
Bartlett drove another mile before turning into a convenience store. Ian pulled into the strip mall across the street and turned off his lights. "Any liquor stores nearby?"
"Uh…I think there's one north of h
ere, about half a mile or so."
A tall young man got out of the Monte Carlo, ran a hand through his brown hair, and went inside. Ian went for the binoculars but Gwen already had them. "What's he doing?"
"Going to the fountain machine…now he's grabbing some chips."
Gwen's cellphone rang and she handed him the binoculars.
"Jamison…okay, what's the address? Got it." She expelled a deep sigh. "Missing teenager."
"I'll drop you off at your place and then come back," Ian offered.
"You sure?"
"Yeah. I'll have a look around the neighborhood of that liquor store you mentioned. He bought soda and chips. He's probably scouting his next target."
"You'll call me if anything goes down?"
"I will. Unlike you, I prefer having backup."
*****
Two hours after issuing an Amber Alert, a friend of the missing teenager called and told the foster mother where the girl could be located. Two patrol cars were dispatched to bust up the underage drinking party, and the teenager was safely returned home.
"Do you have any idea how much trouble you caused tonight?" Mrs. Lofton scolded, on the verge of tears.
The fifteen year old lowered her head. "I'm sorry. I should've called."
"You shouldn't have even been there, Emma."
"I wasn't drinking, I swear. Some were, yeah, but I was just hanging out with Beth and Tina."
Mrs. Lofton turned to Gwen. "I'm sorry for all the trouble, Detective."
"That's okay. I'll need Emma to give me a statement for my report. According to the officers responding to the party, a summons was issued to the parents for furnishing a place for minors to consume alcohol."
"She'll tell you whatever you need to know. Isn't that right, Emma."
"Yeah."
Gwen took the young girl's statement. She was scared but very forthcoming about the night's events. Being a foster kid herself, Gwen had a hunch the girl was anxious about what could happen to her.
"Were you given a breathalyzer test prior to the officers bringing you home?"
"Yes. They said I didn't have to, but suggested I do. I didn't have anything to hide so I did."
"Good." Gwen looked up at Mrs. Lofton. "I'll check with the officers, but I'm confident there won't be any repercussions." She patted the girl's hand. "You have a good home here, Emma. Be careful who you hang out with in the future."
"I will. Thank you."
Mrs. Lofton walked Gwen to the door. "Again, I'm real sorry about this."
"Don't be. I'm glad things turned out okay."
It was nearly four in the morning when Gwen arrived home. She wondered if Ian had managed to relocate Dawson Bartlett. After collapsing on the sofa, she kicked off her shoes and leaned back. Lizzie came running into the room and jumped in Gwen's lap. The blinking red light on her phone caught her attention. Not wanting to disturb Lizzie, Gwen used her cellphone to retrieve her message.
"Gwen, it's Ian. After searching the neighborhood around the liquor store, I headed back to Bartlett's house. He came home around one-twenty. I have no idea where he was, but he wasn't robbing a liquor store. Sleep well, Detective. Talk to you later."
Her mind drifted back to earlier in the evening and she smiled. Stakeouts were usually boring for the most part. Tonight's was far from it. Something happened in that moment when they ducked, an obvious attraction on both parts. At first she thought it was only her imagination, but Ian's behavior afterwards made her think otherwise. He wanted to kiss her, and part of her was hoping he would.
Gwen figured their attraction grew from Wednesday night, when they had gotten together at Rafferty's. Ian had showed a genuine interest not only in her, but the rest of the unit. Then later, he had confided in her the intimate details of his life. She admired his bravery in that. He also showed respect and trust in allowing her to pursue Bartlett. But where was it all leading?
CHAPTER NINE
Gwen chose a light jade, sleeveless V-neck cocktail dress for her date with Jake. It was one of only three dresses she owned. Not too sexy and not too formal. A knock came at her door just as she was debating whether to wear silver pumps or ivory flats. Undecided, she greeted Jake in her stocking feet.
"Wow." He smiled at her. "You look great, Gwen."
"Thank you. So do you." He wore a navy blue suit with a white shirt and yellow and black-checkered tie. "I'm almost ready. Come on in. I'll be right back." Gwen went into her bedroom and grabbed the pumps, choosing classy over comfort.
"I really appreciate you doing this for me," Jake said as she reentered the living room.
"I'm glad to do it, Jake."
Two hours later, Gwen wished she had worn her flats. She knew there would be dancing but she hadn't anticipated Jake being so energetic. Gwen lost track of how many times he had dragged her to the dance floor. Had it not been for all the footwork she did this week, it wouldn't have bothered her. In spite of sore feet, she was having a good time. His family was nice, especially his mother, to whom Jake had introduced Gwen as his best friend. It was a touching sentiment and not that far off base. Having spent a lot of time in his uncle's club, they were friends before he even joined the force.
The band returned from their break and Jake flashed her his smile.
Gwen shook her head. "I'm sorry, Jake but my feet are killing me."
"You hate this, don't you?"
"What? No, of course not." They were the only ones at their table now. Many of the guests had already left. "It's just that I did a lot of walking this week and I wore the wrong shoes tonight."
"Have there been any new leads on your robbery case?"
"Not really." Gwen had plans to stake out Bartlett's home again tonight.
"Have you considered setting up a sting operation in one of the liquor stores that hasn't been hit?"
"Yeah." Nick had suggested it during Wednesday's brainstorming session at Rafferty's before Ian showed up. "I just have to find an owner willing to go along with it."
"I might be able to help you out with that. I know Teddy Lennox at Boulevard Liquors pretty well. He sponsors the summer league baseball team."
Gwen pictured the location. It was within a mile of the freeway. "That'd be great, Jake. We'd only need it from say eleven until closing Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. If he's interested, give me a call and I'll go see him."
Another song began to play and Jake shot Gwen a pout. "Please. Last dance, then we can go."
"All right." She accepted his hand and they moved to the dance floor.
"I've had a really good time tonight, Gwen." Jake's right hand rested at the small of her back while his other hand held hers. "Are you sure you don't want to do it again sometime?"
"I'm afraid not, Jake." Gwen met is gaze and smiled. "But thank you for tonight. I've had a wonderful time."
"Is it because I'm three years younger than you?"
"Yes," she lied, only to spare his feelings. "If we were the same age, or if you were older than me, I could definitely see us as a couple."
He grinned. "Thanks. That's the best shot down I've ever gotten."
"Why don't you ask out CSI Carpenter? I've seen the way she looks at you. There is definitely some interest there."
"Kelly. Really?"
"I can feel her out if you want. Maybe put in a good word for you. Tell her how good a dancer you are."
"Yeah?"
"Sure. What are friends for?"
The song ended and Gwen grabbed her purse from the table. On their way out the door, Jake's dad stopped them.
"Would you kids mind dropping off these payroll checks? Your mom meant to do it earlier but forgot, and tomorrow is payday."
"Sure, Dad."
Mr. Rafferty shook her hand. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Gwen. We hope to see you again."
"Thanks for a lovely evening, sir."
On the way to the car, Jake nudged her arm. "You're not going to forget to talk to Kelly, are you?"
"First thing Monday,"
she promised.
*****
The door to the club opened and Ian glanced in the mirror behind the bar. He quickly recognized Gwen and spun around in his stool. She looked even more amazing in a dress.
They approached the bar and Gwen spotted him. She smiled. "Good evening."
"You two look very nice tonight." He noticed she wore the same perfume as she had last night, a nice subtle scent, not floral but a hint of musk.
"Thank you, sir. We just came from my brother's engagement party." Jake handed some envelopes to Frank then he and Gwen moved to a nearby table.
Ian continued to watch them in the mirror. An engagement party usually meant dancing. The thought made his gut twist. How was it possible this woman, whom he'd known just eight days, had already prompted emotions he hadn't felt in years?
Jake left the table and went into the back. Ian met Gwen's gaze in the mirror. He thought about going over and talking to her just until her date came back. It probably wasn't a good idea, though. He stared at the glass of tea in his hand. What was he even doing here? He should be out living his life, meeting new people. Enjoying—
"Ian."
He spun around and his glass hit the edge of the bar causing his drink to spill.
Gwen gasped as the tea splattered the front of her dress.
"Aw, Gwen. I'm so sorry." Ian reached over the bar and grabbed a handful of napkins and turned to her.
Her hands covered his. "It's okay." She took the napkins from him. "I should know not to sneak up on a cop."
"I'm sorry. I'll pay to have your dress cleaned." Ian's cheeks flamed. What an idiot!
"Don't worry about it. A little vinegar and water will take it right out."
Ian grabbed some more napkins and cleaned up his mess.
"I was going to ask if you were up for another stakeout tonight?"
"I thought you were on a date?"
"Was. It's over." She slipped behind the bar to wet the napkins and dabbed the tea stains. "But if you don't want to, that's fine. I could give Nick or Kris a call and—"
"No, I will."
Jake returned and glanced over at Gwen. "You ready?"
