by Debra Webb
Jess’s attention shifted down to the picture of the little boy Leslie had given her. An AMBER Alert had been issued and flyers sent out all over the city along with media blasts. Devon Chambers’s cute little freckled face was all over the place. Hopefully someone had seen him and would call the hotline.
As much as she wanted to nail Gabrielle Grayson’s killer, that little boy was Jess’s top priority.
She turned away from the case board. Enough for tonight. She tightened the sash of her borrowed robe. Lori had been happy to part with it. Jess loved the well-worn cotton. She didn’t care that it was now more white than pink. It suited her.
This place, she decided, suited her. Particularly now that she had better locks. There was no way anyone could reach one of the many windows without a ladder. Breaking in now wouldn’t be such a simple matter.
Her cell vibrated against the countertop. She walked over to the phone. Her pulse rate climbed at the idea that it could be Spears texting again.
But it wasn’t.
Did you have dinner?
Jess rolled her eyes. Dan worried over her like a mother hen. Y… e… s.
She couldn’t remember when she’d enjoyed going to the market. But after she’d had a shower, she had driven to the closest grocery store and forced herself to shop. As if walking into the store and smelling the scents emanating from the deli had somehow tripped some you-need-to-eat trigger, she had shopped like a maniac. Her fridge and cupboards were now crammed full of stuff.
She had eaten half a banana and two chocolate bars on her way home.
And she had a nifty new single-cup coffeemaker and all sorts of coffee and tea selections in a very cool lazy Susan–style rack. She might never visit a Starbucks again. What she didn’t have was pots and pans and dishes. Or silverware. She’d grabbed a pack of disposable coffee cups.
Good was Dan’s response. She decided to put on a cup of French vanilla–flavored coffee and put him out of his misery. Every time they were alone together she could feel the way he wanted to touch her. That caring hug he’d given her in the parking garage after the pointless trip to Wanda’s house had been filled with barely restrained need. But even more telling was the obvious and innate urge he clearly felt to protect her. Those were facts she could no longer deny. However painful their past, she could trust Dan.
The vow to be there for each other when they were old… every look, every touch, all of it tugged at a place so deep down inside her that it scared the hell out of her. She wasn’t sure what it meant or where it was going but she could no longer pretend the journey wasn’t real. The trick now was to find some sort of balance.
While her cup of coffee brewed, she sent him a text saying she’d bought out the Fresh Market and had a kitchen full of food now. She bit her lip and waffled on how to word the next text. “What the hell?” She typed the message and hit send before she lost her nerve.
Phone in hand, she paced the floor while she waited for his response. Yes. I would love to come to dinner on Saturday night.
She smiled. She would need dishes, cookware, and a sofa before then. And she needed curtains for all these windows if she expected to have any privacy. When this case was closed, if she and Dan had even five minutes alone she suspected they would need some serious privacy.
Her heart thumping with foolish anticipation, Jess walked around the room and tried to distract herself from thoughts of sex with Dan. She needed a few rugs here and there. Maybe a side table for her bed. She paused at the window that gave her a view of the city lights in the distance and got lost in the undeniable beauty. She could get used to this place. It wasn’t too much to take care of. No yard or exterior maintenance. If something broke she would call her landlord.
All she needed was a maid and it would be like she was back at the Howard Johnson, only with a way better bed and neighborhood.
Snagging her coffee and her Glock, just in case, she went out onto the deck and leaned against the railing. She needed a glider for out here. She could sit and enjoy the cooler temps at night. When fall came, it would be really nice.
Not that she was sure she would still be here in the fall. Mr. Louis had offered her the place until she could get back on her feet. He might not want a permanent tenant. She glanced toward his house. There were lights on in his house but she hadn’t seen any sign of him at any of the windows.
In fact, she hadn’t seen him at all. She hadn’t even met him. But there hadn’t been time really. Admittedly, the situation was a little strange, living over the garage belonging to a man she’d never laid eyes on.
Jess sipped her coffee. “Mmm.” She should have had one of these convenient gadgets ages ago. Movement on the patio behind the house drew her attention there. Her pulse skittered. She wasn’t sure if it was a person or an animal. She squinted and tried to see if anyone was down there. Last night’s message—you’re next—had ice slipping through her veins.
She went back inside and engaged the new locks, then wandered to the sink to leave her cup there. After turning out the lights, she peeled off her robe and climbed onto the bed. A sigh escaped her as she sank into the pillows.
“Where have you been all my life?”
Her cell vibrated and she felt around in the dark. It was caught between the pillows. She stared at the text message on the screen and all those soft, sweet sensations vanished.
Pleasant dreams.
She sat up and surveyed the darkness. The idea that she’d thought someone was outside resurrected old fears.
Spears couldn’t be here… he wouldn’t dare. He was assuming she was in bed. That’s all. Wherever he was he would know it was bedtime here. She thought about that night at Dan’s when Spears had sent her the same kind of text message. He had been there… watching.
Jess scrambled out of bed and got her Glock. She tucked it under her pillow and laid her head there. If he showed up again he was a dead man.
She didn’t know how much time passed before she drifted off, felt like hours. One mantra kept playing over and over in her head and followed her to sleep.
I’ll get you, Spears. Just you wait and see.
But first I have to find a little red-haired boy who believes in angels.
Devon didn’t mind the dark. It was almost like being home. But it wasn’t. It smelled different. Like dirt, but somebody else’s dirt.
The angel had put tape over his mouth and his hands and feet. His wrists hurt. His ankles, too. The tape was too tight and he couldn’t move around. He really needed to go to the bathroom. He’d already done number one in his pajamas. He tried to hold it as long as he could, but when he went to sleep he forgot to hold it. Felt yucky. His sister would be mad when she found out.
He wondered if she was looking for him. She’d probably be mad about him leaving Mrs. Nicholson’s house too.
His stomach growled. It would be nice to have some potted meat. Seemed liked a bunch of hours since he ate. Maybe days. He couldn’t tell.
The angel had put him under here and hadn’t come back. Maybe this was where he would be living now. He kinda thought heaven was in the clouds, not under somebody’s house. He could hear moving around in the house. He wondered if his mommy was under someone’s house? Once or twice he even heard some kids crying and hollering.
Maybe the angel had brought them here too. This might be just a hiding place before they went to heaven.
But he wasn’t dead. He didn’t want to get dead.
Devon wished he could be up there with the other kids. They might know what the angel was gonna do to them.
Mostly he wished he could go home and be with his sister. Leslie would be all worried.
If he could get loose he might be able to find his way home. He wished he hadn’t gotten scared when the angel caught him. His sister told him that angels didn’t hurt live people. But he went inside himself anyway and he didn’t get to see which way they came.
He twisted his hands but it didn’t work too good. The tape covered his fing
ers, so he couldn’t work them. Made it hard to move even a little bit.
Maybe if the angel came back he could ask to have some water. He wished he could go home and get his own water and potted meat. He wished he had his backpack and flashlight too.
Angels probably didn’t let you have wishes.
A man shouted mean words at somebody. Devon jumped. He stared up through the darkness. There was a man in the house with the crying kids. He was mad or just mean. He kept hollering. A woman was screaming and crying.
Something crashed. Somebody was real mad. He didn’t like all that hollering.
It got all quiet.
Devon held real still and listened hard.
Something scraped and dragged underneath the house… not far from where he was stuck.
A bright light shined in his eyes. He squinted against it.
His heart started jumping as the light came closer and closer. His body shook and he went number one some more.
The light stopped real close to him but he couldn’t open his eyes ’cept a crack ’cause the light was so bright. Was it the angel’s light?
Devon closed his eyes and tried to remember how to pray.
Please, God, tell your angel to take me back home. I promise to do better.
Dunbrooke Drive, 11:00 p.m.
Dan stared at his cell. He’d been resisting calling Jess for nearly an hour now. He just wanted to ensure she was okay but that would only annoy her. She didn’t like him checking up on her. She’d invited him to dinner on Saturday. What else did he want?
He exhaled a big breath. Everything. No point pretending. He wanted to explore every inch of her as if he hadn’t already touched every part of her. He wanted her with him at night when he closed his eyes. He wanted to see her face first thing each morning when he opened them once more.
Slow down, pal. The one thing he understood with complete certainty was that Jess would not be pushed. He had to let this happen in its own time.
The late news droned on in the background. The highlights from their press conference had been replayed a dozen times on every local channel. Jess was quickly becoming Birmingham’s new hero. He wondered if she had any idea how that was going to change her life.
He had to be careful of the advice he offered her these days. She’d given it to him straight when he’d taken her home from the hospital. Balancing the work relationship and the personal stuff was giving her a hard time. He hadn’t meant for that to happen. He had hoped they could find a way. But not at the expense of her peace of mind. Or her happiness.
That aside, he wasn’t happy with her new living arrangements. He would have much preferred she move into a normal apartment building or home. This over-the-garage place popping up out of the blue from someone she or Lily didn’t really know didn’t sit well with him.
He’d run a background search on George Louis. Lily had been wrong about the widower part. The man had never been married. He’d lived with his invalid sister until she died ten years ago. She had never married either. The two had moved to Birmingham thirty-four years ago. No records whatsoever, not even a parking ticket. Louis had worked with one of the city’s top architectural firms until nine years ago, when he retired shortly after his sister’s death.
There was absolutely no reason to suspect anything untoward. But this was Jess, and Dan couldn’t not worry about her safety.
Not with Eric Spears still out there somewhere. Jess’s old boss at Quantico kept Dan apprised of any updates. They had nothing. No idea where Spears was at this point. There was no record of him coming back into the country but that meant nothing—not when a man like Spears was involved. He had endless resources.
Bottom line, Dan needed to have a talk with Mr. Louis just to make sure he understood Jess’s situation. Maybe that was all he needed to get comfortable with her new living arrangements.
The thing was, as much as he wanted to be with her every chance he got, he wanted to protect her. For him, the problem with balance was that one ultra-sensitive issue. Jess was a strong, independent woman. He cramped her style on and off the job. Pushing her away with his need to protect was not his intent.
He tossed his phone onto the coffee table and puffed out a weary breath. Well, it had taken them two decades to get to this place. He shouldn’t be surprised that it was going to take some time for them to reach the next level.
The doorbell rang. Dan shoved off the couch and considered that he was shirtless and in his pajama pants but whoever was at his door needed to consider the hour and appreciate the fact that he was even answering. Could be Jess. Not too many others would have the nerve to show up at his door at this hour. If there was a department issue, he’d get a call.
He checked the security peephole. Sylvia? He drew back, puzzled. Maybe she’d learned something new from Gabrielle Grayson’s lab results. But they’d had this conversation already. She could not act in an official capacity on this case under any circumstances. He couldn’t prevent Leeds from allowing her to be involved as an observer, but that was as much leeway as the law would allow. Anything beyond that and the investigation would be jeopardized.
He opened the door. “Sylvia? Is everything all right?”
She surveyed his bare chest and lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “Make yourself decent. We have to talk.”
“Come on in.” He tried to be patient with Sylvia. He really did. But she went too far any time they were forced to interact. He gestured toward the living room. “Have a seat and I’ll go make myself decent.”
Dan refused to let his frustration get the better of him. There was no use fighting a battle he couldn’t win. The Baron family was by far the wealthiest in the city and her father carried the weight of a Senate seat. What was the chief of police to do except be accommodating, as long as it didn’t break the law? Truth was, they had a personal connection that he couldn’t pretend never existed. More of that baggage he carried around after three ex-wives.
He rummaged through his bureau and grabbed a tee. That was the best she was going to get. He dragged it on as he made his way back down the hall. She paced the living room. Whatever she had on her mind, she was worked up. Not unusual. The Barons were never satisfied with the status quo.
“Would you like coffee? Water? Bourbon?” If he recalled correctly, her favorite drink was bourbon.
“No thanks.” She stalled in the middle of the room and leveled her full attention on him. “Gabrielle called me the day before she was murdered. She wanted to talk but I didn’t have time. I told this to Harris but she doesn’t seem to have followed up.”
Dan set his hands on his hips. “Why did Gabrielle call you?” He hated that the question came out with a little more disbelief than he’d intended but it was done.
“Like I told Harris, she wanted to talk about Larry. Evidently there was trouble in paradise.”
“But you don’t know exactly what she wanted to talk about,” he countered.
Sylvia folded her arms over her chest and hiked up her chin. “God, you sound like Harris. I just told you she wanted to talk about Larry. To me. There was a problem. She was worried and now she’s dead. Do you get that?” she demanded. “You should be looking more closely at Larry and whatever problem he has or is involved in.”
Dan plowed his fingers through his hair. “Do you know how this sounds?” Surely she did. Sylvia was an extremely intelligent woman. “You’re the scorned ex-wife. You would love to see him go down for this. That’s what everyone will think.”
Sylvia laughed. “I don’t care what anyone thinks. But I do care that no one, not even the woman who stole my husband, deserved to die like this. You and Harris need to get your acts together. This murder had something to do with Larry. I heard the fear in her voice, Dan. Do you have any idea how much courage it must have taken for her to call me?”
That part he got. “Jess is investigating Larry. Anyone close to Gabrielle is a person of interest. You know how this works. She’s not going to ignore the possibility th
at Larry was involved. Coming here all worked up about this doesn’t lend any more credibility to your claim, Sylvia. You have to know that, too.”
She dropped into the nearest chair. “Maybe that was an excuse.”
Dan went on alert. “Is there something going on with Nina?” Just saying her name out loud resurrected memories he’d just as soon leave dead and buried.
Sylvia shook her head. “She’s not responding to the treatments the way we’d hoped. I’m not so sure she’s going to come around this time.”
Nina had been such a fun-loving, warm person. Or so it seemed. Dan had run into her at a fund-raiser. It had been nearly a decade since he and Jess ended their relationship. He’d decided it was time to settle down. Somehow he was always trying to find a way to get over Jess. Nina had presented the exact opportunity. She had been adventurous and his parents had fawned over her. She was a senator’s daughter after all. Only the senator’s family had been keeping a deep, dark secret. And Dan had almost paid the ultimate price for their vanity.
He forced away the memories that didn’t need revisiting. For years he had worked vigilantly to prevent himself from recalling those horrors whenever he thought of Nina.
“We’re considering moving her to a clinic in New York where they’re seeing better results with this intense therapy that has failed so miserably here.”
“How’s the senator handling this?” Dan could just imagine. Nina was his baby girl.
“Exactly like you think,” Sylvia admitted.
Nina suffered from paranoid schizophrenia. She’d shown the signs for years. The family had ignored them. Then, six months after she and Dan married, she went over the edge. How she’d made it through law school and started her own practice by the age of twenty-eight he would never fully understand. She’d tried to kill Dan with his own service revolver and he’d had no choice but to admit he couldn’t handle the situation. The family had resumed her care and the divorce was hastened along. Irreconcilable differences. That was all the world would ever know.
