Double Jeopardy (Entangled Select)

by Linda Wisdom

  “Maybe so, but you’re so active in helping battered women that I felt they would listen to you. You look about as non-threatening as a teddy bear when you’re in your small-town-lawyer mode,” Gail insisted with an impish grin, as she patted his cheek.

  He affected a mock snarl. “I have to admit, I was impressed by the size of the group. A lot of brave ladies were in there.”

  Her face darkened. “They have to be brave in order to endure the hell they live.”

  Josh stopped by Gail’s small compact car, waiting as she unlocked the door. “Changes can’t happen overnight, Gail. At least now, if the wife is physically abused by her husband, the abuser is automatically taken in as long as the police are called in. It’s a step in the right direction, but women still need to take that next big step by getting up the courage to get out of the abusive relationship before it’s too late.”

  “It’s not always that easy.”

  Josh noticed her bleak expression. “You?”

  For a moment he thought she was going to evade his question. She lifted her head and looked squarely at him. “Can you honestly think I would put up with an abusive relationship?”

  He remembered the stories of the petite policewoman bringing in burly suspects more than twice her size without any problems and chuckled. “After what I’ve heard, I’d tend to think you were the one handing out the black eyes in a relationship.”

  She laughed at that. “Yeah, I’m a real tough guy.” She glanced at her watch. “Say, would you like to go somewhere for a drink or a cup of coffee?” She immediately backpedaled when Josh hesitated. “Hey, it’s all right. I understand if you have other things to do.”

  “Jury selection for the Watson case is tomorrow, and I like to take the night before to read over the files again and psyche myself up,” he explained. “How about another time?”

  “Sure.” She opened the door and slid into her car. She switched on the engine. “Good night, Josh, and thanks again.”

  “Gail?”

  She looked up.

  “I think it’s great you work so hard for this support group for battered women. That if, for one reason or another, they don’t seek help from a shelter, they can find out they have another option until they feel strong enough to make a decision by coming to this group and learning they’re not alone.”

  “You’ve always been very supportive in battered women’s issues, so I knew you would understand why I wanted to find an alternative for them.” She ran her palm along the steering wheel. “Unfortunately, too many women refuse to admit they’re being abused or that it’s wrong to be abused, but thanks to their relatives or friends urging them to find help, there are a few who are coming around to face the truth. For each one that happens, I’ll throw a party. For each one I lose,” her face was a study in darkness, “well, I’ll pray for the day the abuser gets his. Good night, Josh.”

  Josh tried to ignore the unsettling feeling he experienced as he watched her drive away. For all the time they’d worked together and the few times they’d dated, he still wondered how much of her he didn’t know.

  When he reached his car, he unlocked the door and stepped back in revulsion as he stared at a small, square-shaped clay pot filled with an unfamiliar flowering plant that had been set with great care in the middle of the driver’s seat. He leaned closer for a better look and recoiled as the distinctive scent of Obsession perfumed the car’s interior.

  “Interesting choice of plant life, Josh,” Kevin said, as Josh waited impatiently by a patrol car while his own car was dusted for fingerprints and the interior examined for a hopeful clue.

  He was not amused. “Maybe she couldn’t find any roses at this hour.”

  The detective inclined his head toward the car. “Hawkins, whose hobby is plants, told me what kind of plant was left. You’re the proud owner of kudzu.”

  “Kudzu? What the hell is that?”

  “Hey, I only know roses because if I don’t buy them for the wife on her birthday and our anniversary, I’m in big trouble. One of the other guys says it’s used as ground cover. Why you got it, we have no idea. Maybe she’s finally leaving clues to her identity. Which I wouldn’t mind one bit. The least she could do is give us a hint. It’d make my job easier.” He scratched the back of his head.

  “What the hell is she trying to do? Is she going to start following me wherever I go now?” Josh was ready to explode with the frustration boiling up inside him. “Am I going to have to look over my shoulder from now on? What’s next? Is she going to freak out one day and kill me or some innocent person?”

  “Hey, calm down, buddy.” Kevin held up his hands to stem Josh’s words. “Josh, we’re going to make sure it doesn’t go that far. Look, we may not have all the resources that LA has, but we do have a bunch of men who aren’t going to let anything happen to you. You’re the only prosecutor with a decent conviction rate.”

  He nodded. “I know. It’s just making me nuts. I can’t help but wonder. I’ve already lost a wardrobe. What’s next?”

  Kevin grinned. “If I were you, I’d make sure to keep my insurance premiums paid up.”

  “You are one sick bastard.”

  “Yeah, but a cop has to be. It’s the only way we can do our jobs and remain somewhat sane.”

  “Then find this woman before I do. Because so help me, I don’t care if she is a woman, if I find her first, I’ll beat the living shit out of her for doing this to me and the people I care about.” He knew he sounded like a hypocrite for all the work he does in helping battered women. But he didn’t consider this woman human.

  …

  Lauren had no idea where they were going for dinner. She’d been kidding when she’d suggested to Josh that they go to Rothschild’s and had given him a call back, asking him to surprise her. Although the choices in the small desert town weren’t many, most of the restaurants were geared for the tourist trade that stopped to eat on their way to the Arizona border, and all served good quality food. She figured she was safe wearing black silk pants with a black silk tank and red jacket.

  “I really should consider getting a dog,” she told her reflection as she looked into the mirror and applied mascara. “Then I’d have a good reason to talk out loud and someone to keep unwanted visitors out.” She lifted her head when she heard the doorbell chime.

  Josh stood on the doorstep wearing slacks, instead of his usual dress jeans.

  “Come on in,” she invited, as she pulled open the door. “Would you like a drink?”

  He shook his head. “No thanks. I made reservations for seven-thirty. I would have brought you flowers, but I’ve sort of developed an aversion to them,” he explained, helping her with her coat.

  “Just bring chocolate and I’ll be your slave forever.” She made sure the heavy-duty deadbolt was engaged when they walked back outside.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” He led her down the walkway to his car and opened the passenger door for her. “You’re out of LA, right?”

  “Right in the heart of it.”

  “Not many people would leave what had to have been ultramodern facilities to come out here, where the city complains every time we need pencils.”

  “I went through a bad divorce and needed a change of scenery. One of my instructors from medical school knew about this position. I think his letter of recommendation counted more than my qualifications. Plus, they wanted a forensic specialist out here so they could keep up with the times.”

  “Yeah, we have a bunch of good ole boys out here,” he agreed. “How long were you married?”

  “Six years.” Her distaste was evident. “And not one of my favorite subjects.”

  Josh took the hint. “Well, let’s see. I’m not sure I could discuss your work on an empty stomach, I haven’t prosecuted any interesting cases for quite some time, and I’ve never been one to talk about the weather or politics. Have any suggestions?”

  “Did you watch the Christopher Lee movie marathon on cable last night?”
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br />   “Of course.” He rapidly warmed to his subject. “Although I admit I’m more of a traditionalist and prefer the classics.”

  “Same here. I see enough blood and gore in my work that I don’t need to see it during my time off.”

  During the short drive to the restaurant, they kept up a running debate as to which film epitomized a true horror classic.

  “Karloff could scare anyone with his eyes alone,” Lauren insisted.

  “You want to be scared?” he dared. “Look at Lon Chaney, Senior. The man was an artist at frightening a person,” he told her, as he climbed out of the car and walked around to help her out.

  The moment Josh gave the headwaiter his name, they were shown to their table and handed menus.

  “What got you interested in pathology, anyway?” Josh asked after they had been offered a drink. Since he was driving, he decided to stick to club soda. Lauren ordered a glass of chardonnay.

  She smiled. It wasn’t difficult to understand his curiosity. “I know. People, especially men, can’t understand why, when it’s not known as a specialty most women doctors are interested in. Even more so with my subspecialty being forensic pathology.”

  “I admit it’s not easy for me to visualize you down in the morgue with Igor, cutting up corpses.”

  Lauren thought of the problems she had with her assistant and began to think the nickname fit the man. “There are days I wonder why I got into it, but I’ve never regretted my decision. I became fascinated in the field during my intern’s rotation in pathology,” she said, looking up with a smile as her wineglass was set in front of her. “The head pathologist was one of these diggers. By that, I mean he enjoyed digging for the truth. He kept on top of everything new in his field, attending seminars dealing with new techniques and all. He always said, Why use a hammer and chisel to write when you can use a computer? So why not search for better ways to detect the cause of death? I did my residency under him and learned it wasn’t wrong to question what might look like the truth and to keep an open mind in my work. I soon developed an interest in forensic medicine and took on studies of the subject and began some research. The first thing I learned was that the best qualification for that kind of work is a strong stomach, since there’s no such thing as a clean murder.”

  Josh thought about some of the murder scenes he’d visited in the past. “You’re right on that count. Although, you won’t have the challenges here. Our homicide rate, knock on wood, is pretty low.”

  “That’s why I liked the idea of having time to indulge in some research,” she replied. “What will really take up my time for a while is organizing the records.”

  “Harvey never did like recordkeeping, which was a prime bone of contention with everyone.”

  Lauren thought of the state-of-the-art computer system and staff she’d left behind. She was grateful that she was familiar with the computer her new office used. “That was the first thing I noticed. I’m just glad I like a challenge.” She eyed him as she set down her menu after deciding on chicken in wine sauce. “Such as, how does an assistant district attorney with a slight Texas drawl end up in a California desert town filled with more than its share of yuppies who think they’ve found nirvana and a bunch of old-time locals who wouldn’t mind the town going back to the rural way it was? Not to mention the ongoing controversy over why you won’t wear a tie in court.”

  He grimaced. “Someone’s been talking.”

  “It seems your refusal to wear a tie has become a legend around the courthouse, since none of the other attorneys are allowed to get away with it,” she pointed out. “And the drawl is not easy to miss for someone who spent two years in specialized training in Houston. Rumor has it you’re too good a prosecutor to be out here and should be where you could properly utilize your skills. Sound familiar?”

  “It just goes to show the town knows what it’s doing in attracting quality help.”

  Her gaze didn’t waver from his. “Such as prosecutors who have secret admirers?”

  The tic in his jaw told her that wasn’t one of his favorite subjects, either. “Who told you about that?”

  She ignored his abrupt tone. “Do you honestly think it could have been kept a secret? In fact, some people are thinking of starting a pool to guess the lady’s identity. Although they didn’t exactly give it the grim overtones you seem to be exhibiting. More like talk of flowers and small gifts and such.”

  His jaw worked furiously. “We’re trying to keep it quiet.”

  Lauren understood immediately. “This isn’t about some shy little thing that has a crush on you, is it? You’re really spooked about it.”

  He waited until their waiter left their plates before speaking. Even then, he lowered his voice to ensure he would not be overheard by neighboring diners. “A few months ago, it was nothing more than something that flattered my ego. Flowers sent with thank-you notes, things like that. Before I knew it, it turned into an out-of-control situation with my home being broken into and women’s things left there. I have no idea who’s doing it or why.”

  “The only gossip I hear is about flowers and notes.”

  “Because the police are trying to keep it as quiet as possible,” he explained. “This woman has broken into my house I don’t know how many times. No matter how often I change the locks she finds a way to get in. She’s played nasty tricks on women I’ve dated, she leaves messages on my voicemail, and sends gifts—some so personal they’re almost embarrassing. Not once has she given me any hint as to her identity. She acts as if I should know who she is.”

  Lauren nodded. “Typical fatal attraction. I’m sure you’ve investigated the women you might have parted with on less-than-friendly terms. I hate to say it about my own sex, but a scorned woman can be a very vengeful creature and eager to inflict horrible pain. I performed a post on a man who told a woman he’d dated a total of three times that he didn’t think they were compatible and they should start seeing other people. She couldn’t handle the idea he was rejecting her and went after him with a carving knife. By the time she finished…” She left the rest unsaid.

  Josh shuddered at the thought. “I’ve seen my share of these cases, which leaves me even more unnerved, now that I’m one of those statistics.”

  “I gather you don’t suspect me if you’re willing to talk so openly about it.”

  “You weren’t in town when it all began and, to be honest, I can’t see you terrorizing anyone. I have an idea you’d prefer to face your victim.”

  She laughed at that. “Funny you should say that.” The brief look of pain crossed her face so quickly he wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it.

  Lauren waited until they began eating before bringing up the subject again. “Has anyone worked up a psychological profile on your stalker?”

  Josh winced at the term, even if it did fit. “We’re a small town, Lauren. We don’t have the resources, probably because so far, we haven’t had the crimes to warrant them. Plus, no one thought it was serious enough to go on the outside for help.”

  “From what you’ve said, it sounds as if the problem is increasing, which means it isn’t anything you can take lightly.” She sipped her wine before continuing. “I have a friend who used to work as a suspect profiler for the FBI. She now has a private practice and does some police consulting on the side. Dana’s been looking at the growing number of stalkers and their victims. She’s already done some very extensive research on the subject and worked up some interesting views about them. I’m sure she could work up a profile, or at least offer some ideas. So far, she’s been right on the mark with her profiles, so she might come up with something that will give you a clue to the woman’s identity.”

  He sighed as he contemplated his steak. “Right now, I’d settle for a name, address, and telephone number. Even a vague location of where she lives would be helpful.”

  Lauren smiled her sympathy at his frustration. “If it was that easy, we wouldn’t need to worry, would we? But I’m sure she can come up
with some ideas that might help you get a clearer view of your unwanted admirer. She will need to look over the police reports so she can have an overall picture of what’s gone on.”

  Josh never believed in thinking things over, so he gave his answer immediately. “If you’re willing to call her and see if she’s interested, I’m more than willing to put together a file of whatever information she needs to figure this out. I’ll accept help from anyone who offers it. I want this woman out of my life.”

  Lauren held up her wineglass in a silent toast. “Don’t worry, Josh, we’ll learn the identity of your secret admirer and pay her a visit. And while we’re there, we’ll suggest she wait for an invitation before she decides to drop in again.”

  He tapped his glass against hers and said on a grimmer note, “That’s an invitation she won’t see in this lifetime, because when this is all over, I plan to see her sitting in a cell for a very long time.”

  Chapter Five

  “Hey, Doc.” Detective Kevin Peterson stuck his head around the door to the autopsy room. He deliberately kept his gaze averted from the form lying on the stainless steel table in front of Lauren. “Any chance you’re almost finished cutting up that stiff? I’d like to have a talk with you.”

  Lauren looked up. Her features were hidden by her surgical mask, and the goggles she wore to prevent bone splinters and dust from flying into her eyes made her look like something out of a futuristic film. “Come on in, Detective. I have no problem in talking to people while I work. And, by the way, the word we use around here is ‘deceased,’ not ‘stiffs.’ We do try to keep a little class.” Her eerie appearance belied her words.

  He inadvertently looked in her direction and turned a nasty shade of green as he watched her hand her assistant a kidney to be weighed. “I make it a practice of not being present at any openings I don’t absolutely have to attend.” He swallowed the nausea crawling up his throat.