The thought stopped him cold. In a moment of clarity, Jack began to understand Lucy-goosey and her motives a little more. Had she pushed others away for his same reason—to keep from feeling more pain? Maybe they had something in common, but so what? He wouldn’t allow the revelation to become a bond.
“I later found out that I wasn’t her first,” Lucy said, redirecting his attention back to her story. “Or her last. Cassie still uses her purse as a decoy to find messed-up kids like me. Can you imagine? It’s awfully hard to screw over someone like that, so I had no choice but become her friend. Then before I knew it, I was doing things to make her proud of me because she’d bothered to dig me out of the trash in the first place.”
Her voice drifted off and she stared at her hands, lost in her memory.
When she didn’t say anything for a while, he prodded in a brusque voice, hoping to extinguish the emotion roiling inside him, “Okay. I get it. You became friends. Then what?” He didn’t want to understand her, nor did he want any type of bond with her. If their relationship ever did move beyond the impossible and on to sex—at this point, denying that he wasn’t thinking about it seemed a wasted effort considering every time his gaze landed on her lips the memory of that kiss flashed—it would only be a physical release based on mutual attraction and mutual lust. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Lucy laughed. “You know I just figured out, you’re a lot like her.” She made eye contact. “Only you don’t have as much heart.”
“Remember that,” Jack shot back. “I’m not here to be your friend. I’m here to help you find one. Once we do, we’ll go our separate ways. Understand?” His eyebrows rose at the way her breath hitched due to his honesty. Well, too damned bad. He’d be nuts to entertain any ideas of friendship. Sex with her seemed an equally bad idea, but now that he’d mentally acknowledged his true feelings on the subject, he couldn’t quite dismiss the possibility. Was he really that much of an asshole? No. He’d avoid that route. If by chance mutual attraction got the better of him—after all, Lucy had been into the kiss as much as him—he’d just make sure she understood the rules of non-involvement before any sheet sprints began. He damn sure wasn’t into getting involved. Not with her. Not with anyone. “You were saying?”
Squaring her shoulders and angling her chin an inch higher, Lucy threw out more attitude with her eyes. Unfortunately, the affectation only increased his burgeoning desire to wipe the irritation off her face with kisses. He mentally rolled his eyes, wondering why it didn’t rub him the wrong way, as it used to so long ago.
“She dared me to get my GED,” Lucy said. “Then Cassie dared me to take a few college classes, which led to an associate’s degree. She wasn’t satisfied until I applied with Gerald at the agency.”
As her voice droned on, Jack found he was concentrating more on her lips than on her words. He shook himself and forced his gaze higher.
“In those four short years we became more than friends. We became each other’s family.”
Apparently, having a better understanding of her motives went a long way toward alleviating frustration, Jack thought, as Lucy added, “Neither of us has anyone else. She’s never stayed out of contact with me for more than a few hours. Never. So I know something’s wrong.”
His spine straightened. “Really?” He hadn’t expected that explanation, which thankfully gave him something to focus on besides kissing her. “You said Cassie texted you from Frank’s house?” Now all business, he eyed her closely and waited until she nodded before adding, “When was that?”
She told him and he looked down at the computer keyboard. “Can I see these texts?” Jack asked a long minute later.
“Sure.” Lucy pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and brought up her texting in-box. “Start here. She sent me these weeks ago concerning her story. Should give you a good idea about why she zeroed in on Cardello and why she was digging deeper, looking for damning proof.”
After reading several, he sighed. “The girl who died went through his courtroom right before she disappeared?” He glanced at her and raised a brow for confirmation. When Lucy nodded, Jack snorted. “How is that damning proof?”
“It’s a connection. Read the rest,” she ordered, impatiently tapping her toe on the hardwood floor. “According to her, the files in the drive provide more damning proof and that’s why she confronted him. Cassie planned to surprise him. She used to say surprise attacks always got most people to talk.”
“Hmmm.” Jack leaned back in the chair, wondering about the real reason this Cassie Harding had zeroed in on Frank. True, there was a connection, but not a strong one. Not even strong enough for the investigating officer in the girl’s death to question him. If that had happened, Jack would have been the first to know. Damage control was his expertise after all, and timing was everything. Frank was announcing his candidacy in less than sixty hours and if the public caught wind of this connection, nothing good would follow. He could understand Frank’s reluctance to talk. Still, he had a sinking suspicion that there was more behind his mentor’s motivations. Jack now had full intentions of discovering what those motivations were.
“Anyway,” Lucy went on, yanking him out of his thoughts, “after not hearing from her in over two days, I decided to take matters into my own hands and find out what’s on the thumb drive. I’d planned to drop by her place later tomorrow to search and see if there’s any clue to her whereabouts in her computer.” Her voice faded into silence. The only sound was the clock ticking before she spoke again. “Okay, I’ve told you everything I know, so can we please check it out now?”
Her question drew his gaze and he smiled. “Sure. No problem.” When she relaxed into the chair, he added, “But first, I need your promise.” Her hands gripped the carved wood and she tensed. Even her hair looked stiff. He bit his tongue to keep from laughing. “What we read will remain between us. At least for the time being.” She started to object and he held up a hand. “Unless there’s damning proof that pops out at us.” Lucy fell back into the chair, and began rocking again. When he noted her triumphant grin, his eyebrows lifted. “Remember, we’re doing this together, got it? And I have one other condition.”
“Anything. Name it.”
“I’m in charge.”
Her smile died and like a guinea pig on a wheel, her mind started spinning, clearly working out some kind of solution that would involve anything but his stipulation.
He chuckled. “Just agree, Lucy.” Here she sat in his townhouse, after breaking in he might add, in order to coerce him into giving up something she stole. And then she expected to be in charge? The woman definitely had moxie and amusing or not, he needed to control that ballsy attitude. “You have no other choice.”
“Fine.”
When she set her empty bottle next to the computer, he asked, “Would you like something more to drink?”
“No.” Her glare was back. “This isn’t a party.”
Jack shrugged. “I’m only trying to be polite.”
“Yeah, well you’ve made your position perfectly clear. Just put the damn drive into the computer so we can see what’s on it, and then I can get the hell out of here and find Cassie.”
“No patience,” Jack muttered, inserting the drive into the machine. While it crunched, he asked, “Who is this dead girl, this Reecie Holloway? Is she from around here?”
“I don’t know. Lexington, maybe. If she’s in Cardello’s jurisdiction. I’ve never heard the name before Cassie mentioned it in her text.”
“We can do an Internet search on her death to find out where her family lives, then talk to them and see if she had any friends who’re listed in the files. Maybe that’s our connection.” He could even ask Frank about the girl and then measure his response. Jack didn’t express that thought out loud. No sense giving Lucy any more ammunition to start mouthing off.
They lucked out and didn’t have to do much searching for pertinent information on Reecie Holloway. Cassandra Harding had already compiled
a file. Yet it quickly became apparent after opening several of the other eight files that the tenth- through twelfth-grade girls from a local high school had nothing in common with Reecie. None were problem kids and none pointed them in any one direction.
After an hour of reading more of the same on the computer screen, Jack’s eyes began to blur. He blinked and glanced at Lucy when she said, “I don’t understand. They’re all cheerleader types and I don’t see anything about these girls that would cause Cassie to investigate further. They aren’t her usual draw. She went for the runaways and outcasts like Reecie.”
“Yeah. Unless you count age and area as a connection.” Jack stroked his chin. “Why would she gather a bunch of files on girls, honor students who’d never gone through Frank’s courtroom, and then confront him with them?”
“Good question.” Lucy closed her eyes and sighed. “I thought the drive would give me answers rather than more questions.”
Jack rubbed his temples and shook his head. “There has to be something in these files that connects to the dead girl and we’re just not seeing it.” Something had sent Frank and Olivia into a tizzy. He kept that thought bottled too. “Did she say why she was confronting Cardello with them in the first place?” he asked. There had to be a logical explanation for everyone’s behavior. He just needed to figure out what that explanation was.
“No. Just that she’d found a damning connection, but not what it was.”
“It’s late. I’m beat and starting to see double. Since we can’t visit Mrs. Holloway until tomorrow and we’re not getting anywhere tonight, let’s finish in the morning. Once we’re fresh, it’ll be easier to go through each file, page by page.”
“These are big files and there are eight of them, not counting Reecie’s. That’s going to take some time.”
“Then we split up the work. You review half and I’ll take the other half.” Jack highlighted all eight of the files and copied them to his hard drive. With that task out of the way, he pulled the thumb drive out of the machine and handed it to her. “I’ll read A–L and you do M–Z.” He searched Lucy’s face for confirmation. When she nodded, he added, “Think like a reporter would. Pick out anything unusual that grabs your interest and I’ll do the same.”
He stood and practically rushed her out of his house, knowing that if she stayed one minute longer his thoughts would revert to sex and he was too damned tired to fight the attraction. Working with her and watching the methodical way she operated attracted him almost as much as that pouty mouth and her ballsy attitude. How sick was that?
Jack held the car door while Lucy climbed inside and started the engine. “Just do me a favor and try to limit the breaking and entering. And for God’s sake, don’t do anything more that will agitate Duncan and get you fired. Okay?”
Lucy nodded and Jack slammed her door. As she drove off, he couldn’t dismiss the idea that by working with her, he was opening a whole other can of worms.
Chapter 4
Lucy’s attention went to the rearview mirror, where she noticed Jack standing on the sidewalk, watching her until the night swallowed him in darkness.
At a red light she braked to a full stop, uneasy over her disturbing thoughts. About Jack. She should stay focused on finding Cassie and not get sidetracked with attraction. Goose bumps formed just remembering Jack’s parting shot, delivered with such a warm smile and a sincere voice.
The light turned green and Lucy pressed the gas pedal, wishing she understood her reaction when the man had always been a nemesis. The Jack Finnegan she encountered tonight totally confused her. She hadn’t expected his courtesy or his full cooperation. More, she’d expected a fight, as that was the way they’d always interacted in the past. With gloves off.
Maybe she had misjudged him all those years ago. He was definitely nicer than she remembered. And better looking. She’d had difficulty concentrating on Cassie’s files rather than on that hard, muscled upper body outlined in his white T-shirt. Too many times during the last hour, those muscles had bunched and the thin white cotton did little to hide his washboard middle. In the past, she’d always seen him in suits, and while he looked damn fine in a suit, he looked even better out of one.
Lucy gripped the wheel tighter. Jeesh! What kind of friend was she to even be thinking such things when Cassie was still missing? “Stay on target, Lucy,” she whispered, pressing the gas pedal harder, filled with resolve. Since he was being so nice, she should return the favor and quit thinking about that hot body.
Besides, Jack had only agreed to help in order to protect the judge, insisting she keep quiet about their discoveries. Lucy felt sure he’d help her find Cassie. In return, she’d honor his request. For now.
No one was out this late, past three a.m., so she was able to cut ten minutes off her drive home. Now at her front door, she unlocked it and stepped inside her house.
“Sadie?” Usually her cat scrambled in between her feet the second the door opened.
Loud meows drew Lucy to the back of the house. In the kitchen, she saw Sadie outside, furiously scratching at the glass patio door. “What the heck? How did you get out there?” Sadie seldom left the house and had been inside when Lucy had hurried out the front door earlier. “Stupid cat.” Sadie must have scooted out without her noticing. Still, as Sadie rushed past her, Lucy opened the door wider before glancing around the yard.
She listened.
Nothing.
No traffic noise. No barking dogs. Only the sounds of insects and tree frogs met her ears.
Sadie, now weaving between her legs, meowed loudly. “Guess I’ve got the heebie-jeebies.” Lucy scooped up the cat and made a point to lock the door behind her.
“Are you hungry?” Sadie squirmed, then jumped out of her arms and headed straight for her food dish. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Lucy filled both food and water bowls before heading for her bedroom, yanking off her sweatshirt as she walked. She tossed the thumb drive on the table beside the computer and flipped it on, intending to copy the files before anything else happened to the drive. While the computer booted up, Lucy went to wash her face and brush her teeth.
She came out of the bathroom and stopped at the closet door to untie her running shoes. While bent over to pull one off, she noticed something sticking out from under the bed. She got down on her hands and knees, and pushed the blue bed skirt aside. The plastic storage box that held her winter sweaters had been moved. Grasping the box, Lucy slid it all the way out.
She glanced at Sadie, who had eaten and now sat on the bed licking herself in contentment. Had the cat been playing and jostled the box out of position? Maybe, but Sadie didn’t have the ability to open zippers. This one wasn’t closed all the way, and Lucy distinctly remembered zipping it tightly two months ago when she’d shoved it under there. She sat on the bed and let her gaze circle the room. Nothing appeared out of place, but her heartbeat increased anyway.
A trickle of caution crept up her spine.
Lucy leapt up, grabbed her handgun, and headed back to the kitchen. The .22 caliber pistol wasn’t as effective as a .45, but it was smaller, easier to conceal, and she was a crack shot who usually hit what she aimed at—the heart or the head—depending on the distance.
Kitchen drawers looked a mess as she yanked open the first one after un-jamming it. But then she rarely straightened them. Just threw silverware and junk into them until they wouldn’t open, so she had no idea if someone had searched them. She finished scoping out the cupboards, then aimed for the hallway.
The door to the spare bedroom was closed but unlatched.
Lucy hesitated, then tried to pass off her trepidation as silliness. There was no one in there. She pushed the door open and stepped inside. Cool air hit her arms, and her gaze zeroed in on the window that was usually shut and locked. It was closed tight. She exhaled a sigh of relief, until her eyes focused a foot lower. The knickknacks on the table under the window had been rearranged.
Okay, that could be S
adie’s doing. Sometimes the cat perched on the table to see out. Except that Sadie had been outside. Lucy tried to think of the last time she’d noticed the table. Unable to remember when she’d last dusted, she shrugged. Sadie had had plenty of time to perpetrate that crime.
Still, the thought didn’t alleviate her unease. In fact, the more she peeked into closets and drawers, noticing items in different spots than she thought she’d put them, her apprehension grew. It was almost as if someone had been through her things. The thought stopped her in midstride. She pivoted and looked closer at the furniture in her living room. Her sofa had been moved. A light layer of dust showed the mark where the sofa should have been. Who’d have thought her housekeeping skills, or lack of them, could leave such a telltale sign? Of course, that could be attributed to Sadie too, she realized when she spotted the bottle cap underneath, as her cat made a nightly game out of killing the cap.
In the bathroom, her gaze landed on the hamper. Lucy lifted the lid and froze. A shirt she distinctly remembered tossing into the basket on Monday lay on top of the pile, and yesterday’s jeans were on the bottom. She then opened her linen closet. Her towels and sheets were normally arranged by size and color, not that she considered herself anal about linen placement, but she was neat in this one area and hers were now tossed and out of order.
Lucy raced out of the bathroom and didn’t slow until she reached the kitchen. She couldn’t blame the cat this time. Sadie had a toilet paper fetish, and if Lucy didn’t keep the bathroom door closed, the entire roll would be shredded in pieces all over the house.
Killer Romances Page 69
