Her gaze wavered. She couldn’t bear to look in his eyes when she told him what she’d done. "Before you arrived, I found a tiny packet filled with a grayish-white powdery substance. I took it home intending to give it to you later. I’ve got it tucked away in a secure spot."
"Is there a reason you didn’t tell me this right away?" His voice held a note of disappointment.
Her head drooped. She felt like a child again, facing her father’s wrath. "No, not a good one. I had a date that night and didn’t want anything to interfere. I… It’s… A date is a rare thing for me."
Jess loosed a long sigh. "Well, I don’t like it, but I suppose I understand. Why don’t you go back home and get the packet? I’ll meet you at my office in about an hour."
Ellie nodded and hustled to her car before he decided to lecture her. With any luck, the baggie would have fingerprints on it. Jeremy’s and maybe the person who had given it to him, or beaten him up. She had been very careful handling it. If that little packet could help solve Jeremy’s murder…
Just the prospect of helping atone for her lapse in judgment lifted Ellie’s spirits. By the time she reached her apartment, not even the sight of Bernadette slinking through the garage could bring her down.
She swung open her door, shoved the car keys in her pocket, and marched to the bookshelves. The book was there, protecting the evidence that might identify Jeremy’s killer. With shaking hands, she pulled it free and flipped through the pages. Despair, fear, and a thousand other negative emotions slammed into her.
The packet was gone.
Chapter 10
* * *
The persistent blast of his doorbell nagged Kurt to crawl out of bed. He tucked his head under his pillow in a valiant attempt to block out the sound. A glimpse of the clock as he ducked for cover told him it was noon. He’d been asleep for five hours.
He groaned and mashed the pillow over his ears. Ellie was a magnet that enticed him ever closer. After leaving her place the night before, he was drawn back within minutes, and parked outside, watching like a demented stalker. At first, he told himself he was merely keeping track of his suspect, trying to see if she had lured another poor Marine into her sensual web.
But Kurt knew deep inside that his vigil had little to do with protecting an innocent man and everything to do with jealousy. The very notion someone was getting what he so desperately craved ate at his gut. In one crazed moment, he even crept to her bay window to see if he could hear any sounds of sex going on. An attempt at the second story thwarted his efforts.
It wasn’t until dawn that better sense prevailed. No other cars were parked near the complex, at least not since he’d surveyed the area earlier. Still, he didn’t budge until he saw the light flick on inside. He took off before she saw his car at the curb. Once confined to his own house, Kurt jumped into an icy shower, hoping the chill would shock his system back to normal. All it did was tighten him more. There was no choice. A quick release of pent-up tension with the memory of her body pressed against him, then sleep finally dragged him down into the depths.
Kurt poked his ear from beneath the pillow. Silence. He stretched, sighed contentedly, and let sleep reach for him once more. A solid tap and Vic Brownell’s annoyed voice through his bedroom window wrenched him back to wakefulness. He threw the pillow across the room, tossed the covers off, and stomped toward the window. With one yank he tore open the curtains.
"What?"
Vic frowned at him and spoke through the screen where the window was cracked open. "It’s about time, Sleeping Beauty. Open the damn door."
Kurt dropped the curtain and marched to the front door. By the time he had it open, Vic was already shoving past him.
"I’ve been trying to reach you for the last hour. Why didn’t you answer your phone?"
"Because it didn’t ring." Still half-groggy, Kurt stumbled to the table near his bedroom where he emptied the litter from his pockets each night. His cell phone lay there, lifeless. "The battery’s dead."
Vic splayed his hands atop his hips. "And the other phone?"
"Ringer’s turned off." He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "I figured if anyone wanted to reach me that badly, they could call on the cell. Yes, I know I’m an idiot. So what’s going on?"
Without answering, Vic walked to the kitchen and looked around for a cup of coffee. When he spotted the remains of Saturday’s pot, poured himself a mug and shoved it into the microwave.
"You might want to nuke a cup yourself to take along with you to the office," Vic said as Kurt propped himself against the kitchen doorway. The microwave timer pinged, and Vic removed his now-steaming drink. He blew across it carefully. "I just got a call from Jess. He’s got a new lead in the ketamine case. Thought you might want to come in with me."
"Why?" Shuddering at the thought of day-old coffee, Kurt yanked the carafe from the coffee maker, emptied its sludgy contents down the drain and shoved it under the tap.
"Because our new lead is Eleanor Severance. And she’s got a meeting with Jess in his office in thirty minutes."
Kurt twisted off the water in shock. "How…" It didn’t matter. Jess had sources J. Edgar Hoover would have envied. "Screw the coffee. Give me a few minutes. I’ll be right behind you."
A single nod and Vic was out the door. Kurt ran a toothbrush over his teeth while he combed his hair, then buzzed his razor over his morning beard. Still moving, he tossed on a long-sleeved Mets T-shirt, found a pair of jeans, then jerked on socks and his Nikes. He paused only long enough to slather peanut butter on a piece of bread before he zipped out the door. A quick stop at the McDonald’s drive-thru for a cup of coffee held appeal, but Jess would have coffee at the shop. His need to see Jess’ new information overrode any caffeine cravings. He washed down his breakfast with a slug of tepid water from the liter bottle he kept in his car.
They were going to end this today. Eleanor Severance was going down. Out of his system and out of his life forever. The look in her eyes when she realized she was caught would be priceless—feigned innocence, then shock, finally anger. All were preferable to that smoky glow he remembered when she was aroused. Kurt clutched at the former image, using it as a shield against the latter as he drove onto base.
Vic waited for him at the entrance to their building, an extra cup of heaven-sent coffee in his hand. Ellie’s red VW was in the parking lot.
"Severance was here when I got back. I haven’t gone in to see her yet. Wanted to wait for you." He handed Kurt the steaming styrofoam cup.
Kurt nodded his thanks. "I’d prefer to keep the incident with the packet between us for now. I want to wait until I hear what she has to say before I tell Jess we have it in the lockup."
Vic shoved the door wide, eyes crinkling with suppressed laughter. "I haven’t squealed on you yet. Don’t intend to either. I figure you’ve covered my back more than once over the years. You seem to always come through in the clinch for me, whether you’re wearing combat boots or high heels." His reference to Kurt’s infamous Kiki LaRue disguise drew a smile from them both.
"Thanks." Kurt clapped Vic on the shoulder and the two strode down the hall. With each eager step, his heart beat a little harder, his body pulsed to life. He was going to see Ellie as she truly was. Then he caught his first daylight glimpse of her, and paused in the doorway.
Long, dark hair fell in shiny waves down to the middle of her back. She sported faded jeans, but had topped it off with a gray sweatshirt that hid her figure. She raked her fingers through that heavy mass of hair. Long fingers on a delicate hand. Only he knew the power of her touch. He and about a hundred other men.
Jess’ gaze slid their way. "Ah, gentlemen. Glad you could join us. I believe you both know Staff Sergeant Severance."
Staff Sergeant? Kurt stomach knotted. By slow degrees she looked over her shoulder at them. Her stormy gray eyes were huge behind her glasses. Good God, it’s her! His nemesis. The thorn in his side. The woman who gave him the heebie-jeebies every time he came near her
. And last night he and this mousy little court reporter had clung together in what could only be described as passion. She had climaxed beneath his touch in an unfettered explosion that rocked him to the core of his soul.
Kurt wanted to be disgusted; all his body wanted was to do it again. Without the wig, she was less exotic, but more real. Everything fit—the silky brown hair, the dark eyes, the pale porcelain skin.
"Yes…we’ve met," she said in that annoyed tone so much a part of their normal communication. "I believe you’ve spilled your coffee." She pointed to the cup in his hand.
Kurt glanced down. His thumb had poked a hole clear through the styrofoam and a stream of hot coffee had poured down on the toe of his scuffed Nikes. Muttering a curse, Kurt tossed the cup into Jess’ trash can, then snagged a wad of tissues from the box on his desk. As he bent to mop up the mess, he caught a whiff of her fragrance. Sweet, elusive, uniquely Ellie. Heat spread throughout his extremities.
Kurt dared a glance up. She stared down at him. Slowly one delicate eyebrow arched. She plucked a Kleenex from the box and handed it to him. He clutched it, frozen in place.
"If I’m not mistaken, Agent Duncan, I believe you have peanut butter on the corner of your mouth."
He wiped it away with the pad of his fingers. Then deliberately sucked the peanut butter off while staring straight into her face. "Anything else you care to nag me about, Staff Sergeant?"
She crossed her arms under her bosom and leaned back against the desk. "Just pointing out your flaws as you seem so fond of doing to me."
At that point, Kurt couldn’t pinpoint what those flaws were if someone held a gun to his head.
Jess cleared his throat. "If the two of you are done sparring, I’d like to get down to business."
Kurt gave a final swipe to the floor, tossed the soggy tissue into the trash and propped himself against a cluttered bookcase on the farthest wall from her.
Jess laced his fingers before him on the desk. "Staff Sergeant Severance was the one who found Jeremy Forton outside the Lost Oasis yesterday morning. Staff Sergeant, would you please tell us what happened, starting from the beginning once more for my co-workers?"
Kurt watched her profile as she launched into her story. Every movement, every expression was open. No signs of deception. Her voice was strong and earnest. Instead of the anger he was accustomed to coming from Staff Sergeant Severance, he heard a subdued Ellie Severance’s grave account of Saturday morning’s events.
She described finding her friend, discovering the baggie, hiding it because she didn’t want her evening plans ruined, then its vanishing from the book. All very innocent, and he acknowledged she could very well be guiltless of ketamine distribution. But Kurt wondered how she would fare if they started delving into her other activities.
"I just don’t understand who could’ve taken that baggie. I had it hidden very well."
Jess steepled his fingers and leaned back, tilting his chair slightly. "What about the gentleman you went out with last night?"
"You mean Kurt?"
Jess lost his balance and fell over backwards. Kurt and Vic reached over from both sides to help him up. He swatted their assistance away and righted the chair. "Damn thing. Second time this week it’s done that to me. Think I’d know better by now."
Vic balanced on the corner of Jess’ desk. "I doubt it was her date, Jess. How would he have known to look for anything?"
Kurt parked himself back at the bookcase. Despite Vic’s attempt to steer suspicion away from him, the skeptical look on Ellie’s face could only mean trouble. He had to salvage this some way, point her in a different direction.
"Was there anyone else who had opportunity and motive? Whoever it was had to have the time and solitude to search."
Bingo! Her jaw tightened. The landlady was in Ellie’s sights. Kurt fought against a sigh of relief.
"I was gone for quite a while this morning," she said. "My landlady is notorious for snooping around my place and taking what she wants. She calls it borrowing. Last night I confronted her. She responded by telling me I had to be out of my condo by the end of January. I wouldn’t put it past her to try to find a reason to evict me sooner. If she found the baggie, she probably thinks it’s mine and will try to use it against me."
"Any chance she’d use it herself?" Vic asked.
Ellie tapped her finger against her arm and stared at the wall behind Vic. Finally, she shook her head. "It’s hard to tell with her. She’s capable of anything. Do you want me to bring in the book for fingerprinting?"
Jess waved the suggestion away with a shake of his head. "It would only prove she handled the book. She’ll say she borrowed it to read." He splayed his fingers on the desk and shoved himself to his feet. "I guess we’re done here. I’ll have the statement typed up tomorrow. Agent Duncan can bring it to you to read and sign. I appreciate your help."
Ellie stood and gave Kurt the once-over as she started to leave. Her mouth curved in a smile. It bothered Kurt that he noticed. He tried to retaliate with a quip.
"Searching for more peanut butter, Staff Sergeant?"
"As a matter of fact… Right here." She jabbed her finger into his left shoulder.
Kurt winced and grabbed for her wrist. Ellie was quicker. With a sly chuckle, she twisted away and slipped through the door. Jess followed. Kurt waited until he heard the outer door open, then let out a whoosh of air.
"Boy, she nailed me good on that one." He flexed the ache away with a few shoulder rolls.
"Almost like she knew where to hit," Vic said.
Good point. Did she know? Had his cover been blown? Was she pretending she didn’t know who he was? Was her admission about the packet just smoke and mirrors to throw them off? Kurt never got a chance to think beyond that point.
Jess swooped back down on them like a hawk attacking prey. "Her?" He jerked his thumb toward the exit. "She’s Ellie? She’s your blackmail suspect? Have you lost your mind? She’s the least likely woman in the world to be—"
"Aren’t you the one who always says never discount the least likely person?" Kurt shot back.
Jess gave a humorless laugh. "Trust me. You’re way off mark on this one, my friend. That woman spends weekdays at work. Week nights and weekends at my wife’s bookstore. By her own admission, you were the first date she’s had in ages."
"I’d say she should get her money back." Vic laughed.
"Shut up, Vic. Think about it, both of you. What better way to throw us all off the scent than by projecting total innocence." Kurt turned up his palms, pleading with Jess’ sense of reason. "She was the one wearing the wig that night. Trust me. I know about the seductress that lies beneath her Mary Jane exterior."
Jess pinned him with a steady stare. "Do you now?"
Vic snickered and earned a glower of his own.
"Enough from you," Jess snapped, and turned back to Kurt. "I’m almost afraid to ask this next question."
"Then don’t and let me do my job. Even if she isn’t the blackmailer, she’s still the only tie we have to both Forton’s murder and the ketamine. I have a link with her. Let me use it, before she figures out Kurt Orin is really Kurt Orin Duncan, NCIS agent."
They stared at each other for what seemed like hours before Jess finally broke eye contact with a huge sigh.
"Go." He waved him away.
Kurt didn’t waste any time leaving. As he eased through the door he heard Jess ask Vic, "All right, where’s the baggie you two purloined?"
He jogged to his car before Jess had second thoughts. He’d have to do some fancy sweet talking now to crawl in under Ellie’s defenses. Hopefully, luck was on his side.
* * *
Ellie braked her car to a halt in the garage. It was a good thing Bernadette was gone. She didn’t trust what she’d say if the woman was here. Strangling her with Christmas garland seemed appropriate. Too bad she didn’t have any handy.
"Yes…too bad." A wicked smile grew. Ellie’s mere mention weeks ago that she wanted to de
corate her condo for Christmas had set Bernadette off on a tirade of mythical proportions. The woman didn’t want pine needles stuck in her carpet and never gave Ellie the chance to explain she owned an artificial tree.
"No more ordering me around, you old biddy." She’d strap an eight-foot scotch pine to the roof of her Volkswagen if she had to. Ellie knew it sounded childish, but it seemed the best way to get even was to get under Bernie’s skin and dig in like a tick on a dog. It was time to declare war on her landlady.
Thirty minutes later, she started to regret her choice of weapons. A beautiful Christmas tree was indeed tied to the roof of her little car, courtesy of the brawny elves at the tree stand in Yucca Valley. Now, she just had to figure out a way to get the enormous thing off and inside. Just as she was standing in the garage gazing at the tree and mulling over her problem, Bernadette cruised to a stop beside her.
"What, pray tell, is that?"
"Looks like a blue spruce to me," Kurt’s low rumble replied.
Ellie looked around. He lounged against the garage door, arms crossed, a naughty grin highlighting his dark eyes. She grinned. There was a Santa Claus.
Ellie reached for her glasses to tuck them away, then dropped her hands. He had to know sometime that she wore glasses and was blind as a bat without them.
Kurt strolled forward, slipped a pocket knife from his jeans, and cut the ropes. The fragrant tree rolled to the garage floor, effectively blocking Bernadette inside her car.
"Sorry," he said with a bright smile.
Ellie smothered a laugh behind her hand. Giving her a wink, he grabbed the trunk and dragged it to the adjoining kitchen door. Bernadette didn’t budge until they were inside, then she announced her displeasure by slamming both car and kitchen door hard.
Kurt smiled. "Now that was worth just about all the money in the world."
"I’m starting to think you are, too." She tossed her arms around his neck. "I’ve decided that you’re an early gift from Santa’s little elves."
He cupped her bottom and tugged her closer. "I can honestly say no one’s ever told me that before." He picked up one long tendril of her hair and curled it around his finger while he studied it. Then he raised one eyebrow in question.
JUDGING ELLIE Page 13
