“I’d love to. When’s the ceremony?”
“Really? Okay, well, thanks. It’s in two weeks. I’ll text you the details. There’s something else I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. I’m hoping you’re going to be cool with it.”
“I’ve got to go, Sarah,” Julia said, reacting to a new e-mail alert from Virginia that popped up on her computer screen. “Let’s catch up later.”
Julia hung up and clicked on the e-mail. In the message, Virginia cc’d the managing editor and the editor in chief, and gave Julia kudos for her story. Julia took a quick look at the article in the news queue that Virginia had edited and saw that Virginia had no follow-up questions.
Surprisingly, it was going to be an early night.
Julia shoved her personal belongings in her bag when her cell phone rang from somewhere inside her cavernous purse. Julia scooped her phone up and answered after seeing the familiar number.
“Gooden, I thought you should know, there’s going to be a press conference in about twenty minutes,” Navarro said.
“On the dead runners? Don’t do that to me. If you’ve got more information, you have to tell me now. Where’s the press conference? At the station?” Julia said while her mind scrambled to plot out the shortest route to the police station in rush-hour traffic.
“No. The address is 100 Riverfront Drive, eleventh floor.”
“I just filed my story. I’ll see you in twenty.”
* * *
Julia parked her SUV on the street across from the address Navarro had given her. She took the elevator up to the eleventh floor and rang the buzzer of her destination.
“Glad you could make it, come on in,” Navarro said. His black leather jacket was off and the barbed-wire tattoo etched on his muscular bicep from logging daily hours at the gym was visible from beneath the fold of his black T-shirt.
“This is an unorthodox place for a press conference, don’t you think?” Julia asked, and followed Navarro down the hallway. “Is this someone’s apartment?”
“It’s mine.”
“This is your place?” Julia asked. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this setup. Am I the only member of the press here?”
Navarro ended the tour in his living room that had more gym equipment than furniture, leaned back against his sole couch, and let his deep-set hazel eyes settle on Julia’s face with an intense gaze. “You got the only invitation.”
“Okay then. I appreciate the exclusive. Do you mind if I record this?”
Navarro raised an eyebrow. “If that’s what you want to do, I’m game.”
Julia dug into her purse for her tape recorder but came up empty-handed.
“I must have left the recorder in my car,” Julia said, and pulled out her reporter’s notebook and pen and posed her first question. “Have you found any further connections between the two dead women?” Julia asked.
Navarro moved toward Julia and she retreated until she was backed against the wall.
“What do you think you’re doing? And you didn’t answer my question,” Julia said.
“Sorry, but the dress you have on is very distracting,” Navarro answered. He closed the space between them and trapped Julia by putting both his hands against the wall by her sides, boxing her in.
“I don’t think this is appropriate,” Julia answered. “Do you do this with all the female reporters, Detective?”
“Just you. Hold on a second. I think it’s about to get pretty loud in here. Don’t move.”
Navarro put the Kings of Leon on his stereo and turned up the volume.
“I missed you,” Navarro said. He pinned Julia back against the wall and then slid his hand underneath her dress.
Julia let her notebook and pen fall to the floor as Navarro slipped his tongue down the length of her neck and to the point of the V in her dress. She arched her back as she felt Navarro’s mouth on hers, and his hand worked its way up her thigh.
“I don’t think we’re going to make it to the bedroom,” Julia said.
“We don’t have to.”
Navarro easily lifted Julia up and she wrapped her legs around him.
“Gooden . . .”
“Yes, Ray?” Julia asked as she tried to catch her breath.
“I love you, baby.”
* * *
Julia lay on top of Navarro, the two of them naked in his bed, her blue-and-white–striped dress lost somewhere back in the hallway forty minutes earlier. She traced her finger against the scar on Navarro’s shoulder from a bullet he took for her at the Packard Plant a year earlier.
Julia laid her head against Navarro’s chest and breathed in deeply, savoring his smell, something that had always been virile and intoxicating to her. The two had first lived together as a couple in a studio apartment in Mexicantown when they were both twenty-five. But their relationship ended after Julia turned down Navarro’s marriage proposal because she thought they were too young. Navarro took the rejection hard, but their friendship and close bond remained intact, even after Julia married someone else, David Tanner, the former assistant district attorney. Out of respect to Julia, Navarro didn’t pursue her, even after her messy separation and infidelity on David’s part. But when David was killed due to transgressions Julia would have never been able to forgive, even if he were still alive, Navarro and Julia rekindled their relationship, one that Julia now knew she should have never left in the first place.
Navarro stared out his bedroom window to his view of the Detroit River, and Julia knew exactly what he was thinking.
“You’re going to catch the guy,” Julia said.
“I have to. Heather Burns has a daughter. Her name is Carly. Russell and I spoke to her today. Jesus, the poor kid was a mess. She and her mom were really close. We found Heather Burns’s Range Rover in Mayberry State Park in Northville. We figure that’s where she was jogging when the killer picked her up. Carly said her mom always jogged at dawn, since she tried to get a run in before work.”
“Just like April Young.”
“Yeah, and just like you.”
“I’m always careful when I run alone,” Julia answered.
“One thing I can’t get out of my head is that whoever killed these women, he made them look like you.”
“There are thousands of women with long, dark hair in the city.”
“Come on, Julia. You have the same blue dress the killer made the victims wear. Same designer, same size. You wore it when I took you to the police awards banquet.”
“It’s got to be a coincidence is all,” Julia said, but she felt a cool shiver move through her that cut her to the bone when she pictured the body of Heather Burns lying slumped on the floor in the blue satin A-line dress, and her own exact version that hung in her bedroom closet.
“Neither one of us believes in coincidences. And you fit the pattern. You’re in your thirties and a single mother who runs. Both women had the same body type as you.”
“I’m already paranoid enough as it is, Ray. I’ve been working hard not to be that way anymore.”
“I know you have, and I’m not trying to scare you. I just want you to be careful. Have you ever run in Mayberry State Park?”
“No. But you and I have run the RiverWalk Trail plenty of times.”
“Until we pick up this guy, no running without me. I’m serious, Julia.”
“I called the wig shops in the city to see if anyone remembered selling two long, dark-haired wigs to the same person, but I came up empty.”
“We checked that angle, too. The killer could’ve ordered them online. We found another wig in Mayberry State Park.”
“The killer’s got a thing for wigs. The latest one is dark-haired, too, I’m guessing.”
“No. It was short and gray,” Navarro said. “It was stuffed in a garbage can inside a stall in the women’s bathroom where we found Heather’s water bottle by one of the sinks. We think the killer left the wig behind on purpose, just like the heart pictures he drew.”
“Why the gray wig
this time?”
“We think the killer wore it,” Navarro said. “He probably dressed up like an old woman to make Heather Burns let down her guard and then he grabbed her in the bathroom. Unless he’s dressing up to role-play.”
“Like we just did,” Julia said.
“No, ours was nothing like that, beautiful.”
“So you’re saying the killer likes to dress up in women’s clothing?”
“Not necessarily. He might like to take on different roles to present himself to his victims. The way April Young and Heathers Burns were both dressed up, he’s making them look like the person he fantasizes about. Whoever the killer is, maybe he’s trying to look like someone who would please her or that she would feel comfortable around.”
“So what he wears could be symbolic?” Julia asked.
“Nothing is off the table,” Navarro said.
“Did you find the man with the dead son who allegedly volunteered at the local chapter of Missing and Exploited Children? You know, the one April Young ran into on the RiverWalk Trail.”
“How do you know about that?” Navarro asked.
“I talked to the principal at April’s school.”
“Of course you did. Why did I bother to ask?”
“I put a call into Guy Peterson. He said the description of the man didn’t ring a bell, but he was going to ask around,” Julia said.
“We haven’t found him, either. Did the principal happen to mention the name of the man’s dead son?” Navarro asked.
“Ben,” Julia answered. “I see where you’re going with this. But I don’t want to think someone is killing innocent women because of some kind of twisted link to me. All right. I do see the connections, though.”
“So humor me. I’m going to ask you some questions.”
“Are we role-playing again? I’m ready if you are.”
“This is serious. Have you noticed anyone following you, or maybe someone who keeps showing up, like an unfamiliar face in the crowd who’s making a habit of being where you are?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Okay, how about anyone on your beat who’s coming on to you, or a guy who knows something personal about you that you didn’t tell him? You know a stalker’s drill. Or maybe someone sent you an anonymous gift?”
“No to all of the above.”
“Just be careful and be smart, like I know you will. But I promise you one thing.”
“What’s that?” Julia asked.
“If anyone ever tries to hurt you, I’ll kill them.”
“I know you would. But I can protect myself. Stop worrying so much.”
“Taking care of you and your boys is my job,” Navarro said. “How did the call with your book editor go today? I’m betting you nailed it. I’m so proud of you, babe.”
Julia groaned, pulled herself off Navarro’s body and sat up next to him in bed. “It didn’t go so well. My editor said what I wrote was a ‘flat account of the facts.’”
“That’s bullshit. Your story was great. What’s this guy’s number?”
“Jesus, you sound like Helen. No, my editor was right. I should’ve known better. He wants me to include more emotional insight on how Ben’s abduction impacted me as a kid and now as an adult.”
Navarro ran his finger down the length of Julia’s arm until he reached her hand. “Are you okay with that?”
“The way I feel about Ben and what happened to him, that’s mine. I’ll share how I feel with you, but that’s it. I’ve never been comfortable talking about my brother with anyone else, especially strangers. Putting up walls keeps you safe.”
“You’re safe right here,” Navarro answered. He pulled Julia against his chest and kissed the top of her forehead. “I want to ask you something. Are you satisfied?”
“Are you kidding me? Did I sound like I wasn’t satisfied a few minutes ago?”
“No, not sexually. I mean, are you happy with us? I’d hoped after you found out what happened to your brother, you’d feel more settled. But you still seem restless. It’s okay if you feel that way. But if there’s something I can do to make you feel better . . . I just want to make everything good for you.”
Julia pushed Navarro down on the bed and leaned over him so their faces were inches apart. “I swear, you’ve made me happier than I’ve ever been in my life. Got it?”
Navarro offered up one of his perfect smiles. “I’ve got it, Gooden.”
“I was thinking, how’d you like to spend the weekend with us? If you don’t have plans already.”
“You mean overnight? I thought you wanted to hold off on that with the kids.”
“The boys are crazy about you. They talk about you all the time. They’d be so excited, and I’d get you for the whole weekend. I was thinking, I’d love to make this a permanent situation. You could stay with us every weekend, I mean, if you wanted to. But don’t feel obligated to say yes. I realize you have a life of your own, so if that would cut into your bachelor time, it’s completely okay.”
“If I had my way, it would be permanent, but that’s something you’d have to tell me you wanted first.”
“So that’s a yes for the weekend idea?”
“A definite yes. I’ll take the guest room.”
“I think the boys will be okay with you staying in my room.”
“Really?”
“We’d need to turn the volume down to zero, though. No wild sexual episodes like what just unfolded here.”
“I wasn’t thinking about sex, I swear. It’s been a long time since I woke up next to you.”
“Detective Ray Navarro, my hopeless romantic. I won’t let it slip to your cop buddies.”
“It’s all for you, babe. Maybe you’d let me take the boys to a Lions game some weekend?”
“Just a guy thing? I’m okay with that. Logan and Will would be thrilled,” Julia said. “I’m going to invite Prejean over for dinner tomorrow after I pick him up at the airport. It was a good move to have him consult on the case. Prejean knows his stuff. I’ll invite Russell to dinner, too.”
“Russell told me he started seeing someone, so he may want to bring her.”
“That works for me,” Julia said. “Who’s the mystery lady?”
“He won’t say.”
“Russell usually likes to brag about his latest conquests. He must really like her if he’s keeping her ID under wraps.”
Julia got up from the bed and started to search for her clothes. “Logan has a basketball game on a new team in the city tonight through the Wayne County Parks Youth League. I can’t be late.”
“That’s a hell of a view, Gooden,” Navarro said as Julia walked with her back to him, naked down the hallway to find her dress. “Remember what I said about running alone. Do me a favor and listen to me for once in your life. I mean it this time, Julia.”
“I promise. I’m committed to changing my stubborn ways. I really am. I don’t plan on putting myself in harm’s way.”
“Sure. I still think you’re beautiful, Gooden, even when I know you’re lying.”
CHAPTER 8
Julia made a pit stop in Midtown at Avalon Café and Bakery on Woodward to pick up a treat for Logan, a s’more whoopie pie, his favorite and a reward for starting on a new team amidst a flood of nerves Julia knew her son was sorting out.
The restaurant was already filled with an early dinner crowd and Julia took her place in line to order from the counter, all the while turning the seemingly disconnected pieces of the murdered joggers’ case over in her head like a Rubik’s Cube puzzle.
“Julia. Julia Gooden?”
Julia took in the man belonging to the voice who was departing from the dining room with a refined swagger of a pretty boy who was keenly aware of his looks. The man was in his early forties, five-ten in stature, just three inches taller than Julia, with short light brown, carefully styled hair, a trim build, and was dressed professionally in a dark blue suit and a lavender dress shirt opened at the collar.
Julia knew that if you live in a city long enough, no matter if it’s jam-packed with hundreds of thousands of people, you could still wind up running into familiar faces. And the ones you’d prefer never to see again seemed to somehow show up anyway.
Alex Tillerman, a doctor Julia had dated in her early twenties before she was with Navarro the first time, held his hand out, but Julia ignored the gesture, giving him a slight nod of recognition instead.
Julia had met Tillerman when she covered a story about his receiving the Physician of the Year Award from the local medical society when she was interning for the Detroit News. Julia had called things off when she realized Tillerman was an arrogant womanizer who had a weekend cocaine habit. Tillerman had also become increasingly possessive and jealous during their six-month relationship. After the breakup, Tillerman continued to pester Julia, not giving up and calling her nonstop, mostly late at night when she figured he was high, but she ignored his persistence. Julia figured it wasn’t that he honestly still cared about her. Tillerman just wasn’t used to being dumped. He wanted to get her back so he could do the deed himself.
“Hey, Julia. It is you. How’ve you been?” Tillerman asked, and gave an attractive blond waitress a discreet once-over as she passed. “I’m still at Harper University Hospital. I haven’t seen you around there in a while, not since that drug dealer was shot up and paralyzed. What was his name? Tyce something, right? I remember you were there at the hospital to interview him. A couple medical staff said you were worse than one of those ambulance-chasing lawyers, but I set them straight.”
“You’re talking about Tyce Jones. He’s a friend of mine.”
“You’re friends with a drug dealer?”
“Tyce isn’t into that life anymore. How about you?”
“Ah, Julia. Still a tease.”
Tillerman did a quick glance at Julia’s empty ring finger and tried to hand her his card.
“I take it you’re not married anymore. My cell phone is on my card. I’d give you my home number, but I’m staying at a hotel right now. I’m going through a divorce. We should grab a coffee sometime to catch up. It’s a coincidence that we ran into each other. I was thinking about calling you, now that I’m single again.”
You Fit the Pattern Page 7
