Evil Without a Face (Sweet Justice)

by Jordan Dane

  She had cuts and bruises on her body, but most critical were the head wound and smoke inhalation. Her head had been bandaged with trauma dressing, and at the hospital she’d need X rays and maybe a CAT scan to determine if she had a skull fracture.

  Although Payton had been reluctant to leave her side at the makeshift triage area, he had to look for Joe and Sam, and refused medical treatment for himself until he found them. A barricade had been set up to keep nonessential personnel from getting too close to the fire. Sporadic explosions were still happening deep inside the collapsed structure. When Detective Garza arrived, he helped establish the police barricade, but the fire department was in charge of the scene—a remarkable lesson in controlled chaos.

  Payton felt bombarded by the intensity of noise, even with his ears ringing and out of commission. Ambulances came and went, carrying victims. Radios crackled and blared in all directions, filtered through sirens and air horns. Shouts from firefighters and medics could be heard over the racket of generators running lights.

  He’d never seen a fire up close. Firemen came in and out of the triage zone needing medical evaluation to keep going. With gear soaked and smoking, each man clamored to get back into the fight. Empty water bottles and discarded dressing wrappers littered the scene, with emergency strobe lights strafing the night sky. And across the asphalt, the fire reflected off the ponds of accumulating water, runoffs and leaks from a series of large and small hoses used by the firefighters. The smell of diesel fuel hung heavy in the air as fire engines operated on high idle, the odor competing with the smoke. Payton doubted he’d ever get the stench of smoke from his nostrils and off his hair and skin.

  With all the upheaval, he had a hard time sifting through the crowd, until he found Seth. The kid helped him search the faces of the injured, hoping they’d locate Joe and Sam among them. So far that hadn’t happened. And the more time passed, the more Payton lost faith in finding them at all.

  Then, silhouetted against the flames, he saw a man and a woman, walking. He couldn’t make out their faces but recognized a familiar gait and manner. He squinted into the bright light, narrowing his eyes for a better look at the pair. Slowly, he walked toward the man, not taking his eyes off him. And as he got closer, Payton started to run. By the looks of him, Joe Tanu had been hurt. He leaned on Sam Cooper, grimacing with every careful step.

  “Seth!” Payton yelled over his shoulder, slowing down as he got close. “They’re alive.”

  Then he muttered under his breath, “Damn it! They’re alive.”

  Joe was in pain but looked damned glad to be on the right side of the turf. A regular sight for sore stinging eyes. Payton hugged him, fighting the lump in his throat. And as he held Joe, he whispered in his ear, “Good to see you, old man.”

  “I thought I’d lost you too.”

  Payton’s eyes brimmed with tears as he hugged the man he thought of as his father. When he pulled back, he looked down at Sam and kissed her cheek.

  “Thanks…for everything.”

  The detective smiled. “How’s Jessie?” she asked.

  “She’s over here, Sam,” Seth cut in, then led them to the tarp where he’d last seen her.

  Joe needed help to the triage area, and Payton lent a hand, setting him down on a tarp close to Jessie as Sam knelt and took her friend’s hand. Jessie opened her eyes and started to say something, but the words wouldn’t come.

  “Don’t try to speak, Jess. You’re going to be okay.”

  Jess shook her head and tried again, this time reaching for Payton. Her urgency caught him by surprise. He turned from Joe and leaned closer, clasping her trembling hand.

  “You don’t know me, but my name is Payton. I—”

  “I know…who you are.” She swallowed and pulled down her oxygen mask, wincing at the pain when she lifted her head. “I found…Nikki.”

  At first he thought he hadn’t heard right, but his confusion was quickly replaced by urgent concern.

  “What? She was in there?” He squeezed her hand when she started to fade. “Did you talk to her? Is that how you knew it was her?”

  He had bombarded her with too many questions. And he wasn’t sure she heard him until she spoke again.

  “I found Nikki. Did I already say that?”

  “Yeah, you did,” he replied, recognizing her confusion. He’d seen it on the football field, when a guy got his bell rung.

  “Here…take these.” She fumbled for something under her blanket, then retrieved crumpled and bloodied papers, and thrust them at him. “Keep ’em. I’ll explain…when I can.”

  Turning her attention to Sam, she insisted, “Don’t let anyone take ’em. We need to know…” She laid her head back down, unable to finish.

  “But they’re evidence, Jess,” Sam said. “We need to process the paper for fingerprints.”

  “Then please…promise me you’ll make a copy…for me,” Jessie persisted, with a crazed look in her eye.

  Sam gave in, reassuring her, “I promise, we’ll process the originals, but you’ll get a copy. You’ve got my word, honey.”

  “What’s this?” Payton glanced at the pages in his hands before he handed them over to Sam. “And what does it have to do with Nikki?”

  “I found her…Nikki.” Jessie struggled to tell him more. “The Russian. He left her…in the control room.” She choked and nearly lost it. A paramedic rushed over to adjust her oxygen mask, but she held him off until she finished. “She was…unconscious.”

  Jessie was practically delirious from head trauma, leaving him to wonder. Had she only imagined seeing Nikki?

  “No, that can’t be,” he insisted, but doubt crept into his mind. “I was there.”

  Had he checked the control room well enough? Had he somehow missed her? The possibility that he didn’t see Nikki through all the smoke made him sick. He stared off toward the burning building and shook his head in disbelief.

  “This can’t be right…we looked.” A tear drained down his cheek. He couldn’t breathe. “Dear God, she can’t still be in there.”

  In that moment, his world stopped. The noise and the fire, everything faded to a pervasive emptiness—a hollow no one could fill. Sam reached for him, and he became aware of Joe’s voice, but nothing sank in.

  Had he left Nikki behind?

  CHAPTER 21

  University of Chicago Hospital

  All hospitals smelled the same to Payton—a medicinal tang mixed with odors he didn’t want identified. Joe Tanu had been admitted to an area medical center with burns and a broken leg that required surgery. Med staff had him hooked to an IV and a machine for him to administer a dose of morphine at the push of a button. His leg had been propped up and bandaged. Between the flight from Alaska and what happened last night, neither one of them had gotten much sleep over the last two days. It was beginning to show.

  As Joe rested in a fitful sleep, Payton kept watch in a chair by his bed, dosing himself with bad coffee laced with liquor from the minibar at his Oak Brook hotel room. He’d cleaned out the stash of tiny bottles and brought a handful with him after making a taxi run to his hotel to clean up and scour the grime off. Even though he’d taken a long shower, he still smelled the smoke from last night. And unfortunately, looking more human, he got attention from hospital staff and others after he returned to the medical complex. Many recognized him from the time he’d played for the Chicago Bears. It surprised him to see how many remembered him in a favorable light, but the critical armchair sports fanatics were more vocal than casual fans.

  He had too much on his mind to care one way or the other. He had copies of the pages Jessie Beckett had given him at the textile plant fire, and while Joe was in surgery, Sam made sure he got a set for Jessie. By the look of desperation in her eyes last night, he knew they meant something to her, but he’d gone bleary-eyed trying to decipher their meaning. The puzzle had been a distraction from the futility of his grief for Nikki. But to him, the pages looked cryptic, nothing more than columns of n
umbers with vague numeric headers.

  He wanted to punish the men who had taken and killed Nikki, but making them pay would not bring her back. One thing dominated his mind most of all. He had no idea what to tell Susannah. None of what he’d say would lighten her load. How do you prepare a mother to hear the kind of news he had to deliver? And how would he help his sister let go of her only child?

  When he looked up, Joe was awake and had been watching him. Even if he wanted to keep secrets from his friend, the man would see right through him.

  “I can smell the alcohol from here.” Surprisingly, Joe kept his disappointment in check, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t feeling it. “And I thought I was the one needing a crutch.”

  The man never minced words and always knew how to get his point across—his version of a verbal bat upside the head.

  “I had to take the edge off. Don’t give me a lecture.”

  “Living is dealing with edges, Payton. And until we know for sure about Nikki, this ain’t over.” Joe winced with pain. Knowing Tanu, he’d refuse to push his morphine button even if he were gut shot.

  First and foremost, Joe had the blood of a cop coursing through his veins. When he talked about “knowing for sure” about Nikki, he meant until recovery crews found and identified her remains. Being a pragmatic man, Joe dealt with the raw truth. It was his nature. Had he been a glass-half-full kind of guy, he might have taken comfort in Joe’s words, that there was an outside shot Nikki was still alive. But these days, he didn’t feel like a lucky man, and his only fleeting comfort came from single malt scotch and the bottoms of many an empty glass—honesty and truth be damned.

  Before he had a chance to respond to Joe, Detective Sam Cooper walked into the hospital room.

  “Hey, Joe. How are you feeling?” she asked.

  The man shrugged. His eyes had lost their sheen and his dark skin looked pale under the hospital lights. “If it weren’t for the pretty nurses, I’d go stir crazy.”

  “How’s Jessie?” Payton asked her.

  “She had some pretty deep cuts that needed stitches, but no skull fracture. She got lucky for once, but they’re keeping her under observation for the concussion.” Sam pointed over her shoulder. “She’s on this floor, far corner. I’m sure she’ll want to see you, but they’ve got her on pain meds. She drifts in and out.”

  With the copied pages for Jess in his hand, Payton got up to leave.

  Sam stopped him. “This morning she told me she wasn’t thinking clearly last night…about turning over the original documents. She figured that if she’d taken something off the premises, it might put me in the middle and compromise my job. Guilt by association, I guess. But Payton, I’m already in the middle. Jess is like family to me.”

  Sam smiled. “If there’s anything I can do to help, you let me know. She’s not always the most objective when it comes to dealing with scum like this.”

  Payton wondered what she meant but didn’t want to pry into Jessie’s life. He understood the need for privacy. And he certainly appreciated the necessity for leading a solitary life.

  “When can I go out there?” he asked. “I gotta know.”

  The detective didn’t have to ask him what he meant. She knew he wouldn’t rest until they found Nikki’s body. It would be hard on him and Susannah, but they would both need closure.

  “Fire crews are still working the scene, making sure it’s safe for investigators and searching for—” She stopped herself and shifted her gaze to Joe—a knowing look—cop-to-cop.

  “And they’ll be searching for bodies,” Payton pressed. “That’s what you were going to say, right?”

  She nodded. “The textile factory is a crime scene. You won’t be able to go beyond the barricade, but I’ll let you know if…you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Thanks, Sam.” Before Payton left the room, he looked over his shoulder at Joe. “After I see Jessie, I’m gonna get some coffee. Catch you later.”

  By the expression on Joe Tanu’s face, he had received the message loud and clear. Without saying it, Payton had assured him he would sober up—for now. No guarantees how long his good behavior would last. And if they found Nikki’s body, all bets would be off.

  When Payton entered Jessie Beckett’s hospital room, she had been asleep. He thought about giving her privacy and coming back later, but at some point he lost control of his will to leave. He studied the woman, really seeing her for the first time, minus the desperation and pain of last night. Her pale skin looked flushed, tinged with color that was a perfect contrast to her dark hair. And under the faint scar near her eye, which gave her face character and grit, her lips and the contour of her cheeks gave her a striking vulnerability, a contradiction he hadn’t expected.

  Her muscular athletic body mirrored the hardness of the scars she bore, yet the soft fleshy curves of a woman’s figure were there too. Jessie had the total package, plus an intriguing edge of raw sensuality. Of all people, he had an appreciation for imperfections, both inside and out, and knew there would be more to her story. But for this woman to let him in, it would take patience and time, and he wasn’t sure he had either. He felt too messed up to take on a strong woman, and someone like Jessie deserved better. Still, he found himself wondering what it would be like to be with her—to feel capable of returning what she had to give to a man.

  When she opened her dark eyes, she gazed at him with all the intimacy of a waking lover. He should have turned away and ignored how she made him feel, but couldn’t bring himself to do it.

  “Hey,” he whispered. Leaning over her bed, he stroked a strand of hair away from her cheek. “Can I…get you anything? Water, maybe?”

  Payton could tell that it took a moment for Jessie to focus and recognize who he was. He’d taken too much liberty with someone he’d barely met, and he knew it, yet it felt right to be alone with her—a feeling he couldn’t explain even to himself.

  When she nodded and tried to sit up, he helped adjust her pillow and raise the bed before he fixed her a small cup of shaved ice. Her bedside table had been stocked with the stuff. But when he attempted to feed her a spoonful, she clutched at her hospital gown, reminding him they were nothing more than strangers. And oddly enough, that bothered him.

  Damn it, Archer! What the hell were you thinking? He offered her the cup of ice and spoon, for her to take care of her own needs.

  “Thanks,” she said. “How’s your friend?”

  Waking up to find Payton Archer so close had unnerved Jess. She took the cup and spoon from his hand, getting a sudden rush when their fingers touched. By refusing his spoon-feeding, she’d wanted to set a clear boundary between them. But she didn’t know if the boundary was meant for his benefit or hers.

  “Joe had surgery to set pins in his leg,” he said. “Guess when he flies home, he’ll be setting off security alarms at the airport.”

  She smiled as she melted ice in her mouth. Payton probably thought she found humor in his remark, but the man had a subtle and undeniable charm. He shared more on Joe’s condition, and everytime she caught him staring at her, he turned away and pretended it hadn’t happened…until the next time. His subtle game came as such a surprise that she had to smile. He had an inherent sensuality that he didn’t seem to be aware of, a quality she always found seductive.

  “You know,” she said, “I remembered you from before…when you played for ‘da Bears.’”

  His sudden change of expression told her she’d said the wrong thing. Idle chitchat was never her gig, especially when she was nervous.

  Payton winced and said, “Ancient history. Off the field, I’d sooner forget those years. I wasn’t…” He thought about what he wanted to say. “I wasn’t ready for…success like that. My ego was cashing checks my head and heart couldn’t handle.”

  In typical guy fashion, he left most of his meaning between the lines, leaving her to fill in the blanks. When she was younger, she might have been tempted to do that, but these days, she took a man at fac
e value without donning rose-colored glasses. Still, Payton’s candor and his willingness to talk about old wounds with a perceptive honesty had hooked her. She definitely wanted to know more about the man—and not just what she remembered from newspaper headlines.

  “Sam told me she gave you copies of the pages I got from the control room.” When he handed her the document copies, she tried a grin, but failed miserably. Her head ached with a vengeance. “She was right to preserve the evidence and process for prints. I wasn’t thinking my best last night. Guess I was pretty out of it.”

  Payton filled her in on what had happened after the fire. For the time being, he avoided any talk of his niece Nikki, but she knew he would get to it when he was ready. As he talked and paced her hospital room, she listened to what he had to say—to a point.

  Jess felt completely vulnerable, confined to a hospital bed wearing nothing but a hospital gown that resembled a hankie with ties. Her battered appearance, both old scars and new, would have made her feel self-conscious around anyone, but being in this small room with Payton Archer compounded her awkwardness. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this ridiculous around a man. She found herself counting the steps he took as he paced the floor near her bed and how many times she caught a glimpse of a dimple.

  Get over yourself, Jess! He only cares about his niece.

  If she thought dismissing him would help her cope, she might have tried faking indifference, but Payton Archer was hard for a woman to ignore. He looked damned fine in those jeans, with his broad shoulders and narrow hips, which only the NFL could produce. He wore his hair long and straight, far too appealing for her taste, the glistening blond streaks giving him the look of a beefy surfer on steroids. And worse, the fierce blue of his eyes against tanned skin had a way of stifling her breath, giving her the heady startling sensation of jumping into the deep end of a pool filled with nothing but ice water. Those eyes could be downright lethal. Yet what surprised her most was the gentleness of his voice when he spoke. It had the drizzle of honey mixed with the gravel of sultry Kentucky bourbon.