by Debra Webb
“Let’s go,” Sarah ordered. “You drive.”
Jess walked out of the bedroom and turned to her right. At the end of the hall were the steps down to the entry level. Her heart stumbled when she got a fleeting glimpse of Burnett hovering to the left at the bottom of the stairs. She hoped he wasn’t going to do anything that would get them both killed.
There was just one thing Jess could do.
As she reached the third step from the bottom, she pitched forward as if she had stumbled and hit the floor.
Sarah screamed at her to get up.
Burnett swung around the corner and slammed her in the head with a lamp base.
The weapon discharged.
Jess rolled and jumped to her feet, her fingers snatching the .38 from her thigh holster.
Sarah was down and Burnett was cuffing her. She bucked and screamed at him.
SWAT swarmed into the house.
Jess rushed to the baby’s room and scooped up the fretting child. “It’s okay, sweetie,” she cooed. “Let’s go find your daddy.”
She turned to find Burnett in the doorway. The tender expression on his face tore at her heart.
She arched a skeptical eyebrow. “Don’t get any ideas. I’m just doing my job.”
“You did good, Chief.”
“I know.” Jess scooted out the door past him. “I always do.”
Whispering Stream Lane, 8:00 p.m.
Devon sat crossed-legged on the living room floor, his favorite show on the TV.
Leslie smiled at Jess. “I can’t believe it’s really over.”
Jess patted her arm. “You and Devon were instrumental in helping us solve this case.”
The girl’s eyes widened. “We were?”
“Absolutely,” Jess assured her. “I don’t want you to worry about Child Services or work or anything but being happy. You deserve it.”
“That won’t be so easy.” Leslie sighed. “I missed all these days and I got fired from my job. I have to find a new one soon.”
“No you don’t.” Those silly old emotions Jess hated dealing with rose like a big old tidal wave. She absolutely refused to cry. “Dr. Baron is going to pay for yours and Devon’s schooling. She’s also offered you an intern position at the coroner’s office—in the file room, of course—around your class schedule so you can be home in the evenings with Devon. No more working at night away from your brother.”
Leslie wasn’t so successful holding back her tears. “I don’t know what to say.”
Jess smiled. “And, Lieutenant Grayson is so thankful to Devon for checking on his wife and child that awful night that he and some of his friends in the South Precinct are going to start working on your house to get it back in shape.”
Leslie threw her arms around Jess and hugged her tight. Jess hugged her back. She might turn into a hugger after all.
Tugging on her jacket had Jess pulling away to look down at Devon. “Did we leave you out?”
He made a face and shook his head. Leslie laughed. “He’s not much of a hugger.”
A boy after her own heart, Jess mused.
Devon offered her a drawing. “For you.”
Jess smiled. “What an artist you are, Devon.” The drawing had a stick figure lady with yellow hair standing in the sunshine. At her feet sat a big black purse and a silver badge-shaped object. There were large buildings in the background, maybe to signify Birmingham. “I’m hanging this in my office. But first”—she pointed to the bottom right-hand corner—“can you sign it for me? All artists sign their work.”
Devon took the picture and ran back to where his crayons waited.
“Thank you, Chief Harris.”
Jess turned to Leslie. She hadn’t really done anything. It was Baron and Grayson who were doing all the wonderful things for these kids.
“You’re our angel.”
Lakefront Trail, Bessemer, 9:30 p.m.
By the time Jess reached her sister’s house, an unmarked car still tracking her every move, she was way past burned out.
Lily was sitting on the porch swing waiting for her.
Jess climbed the steps and joined her. “Where is everybody?”
“I made them go to the movies.” Lily smiled. “They’ve all been so worried about me they’ve been hovering. I needed a break. The kids leave next week, they needed some fun time with their dad.”
“You want me to fix us a cup of tea or something?”
Lily shook her head. “You go ahead. I’m good.”
“In that case,” Jess snuggled closer to her, “I’m good, too.”
“I went for some more tests today.”
“When will you hear something?”
“Next week, I hope.”
Jess put an arm around her sister and pulled her close. “You listen to me, Lily. Whatever this is, we’ll get through it. You hear me?”
Lil nodded. “I know. I’m glad you’re home, Jess.”
Hells bells. The tears started to flow and there was no stopping them. “I’m never leaving you again. I promise.”
They held each other and sobbed softly for a long while. Then they both sucked it up and went inside to play a game of Scrabble. Lily had always beaten her at the game. But Jess didn’t care. It was being here, with her sister, that counted.
“I love you, Jess.”
“Love you, too.”
Parkridge Drive, Homewood, Saturday, August 7,
9:00 a.m.
Chet worried that Lori would be disappointed in his place. She’d never been here before. It was nothing fancy. One of the houses they called mid-century modern. Built in the fifties, with big windows and sharp angles. Only two bedrooms with a small yard, but it was affordable and the neighborhood was kid friendly. For him that was the most important part.
“Nice place,” she said as she climbed out of the rented truck. Her gaze connected with his and she gave him a nod of approval.
A load lightened from his shoulders. “I’m glad you like it.”
She surveyed the block again, then his home. “I like it a lot.” She grabbed him by the hand. “Show me inside.”
His pulse skipping with happiness, he led her to the door or maybe she led him. He turned the key in the lock and opened the door. “After you.”
She walked in and he held his breath. The living area was one big space. Family room, kitchen, and dining room all neatly laid out beneath a vaulted ceiling complete with a couple of cool wood beams. Beyond the open space was a short hallway with two bedrooms and a bathroom. The larger of the two bedrooms had an en suite bath but it was kind of small.
“The hardwood floors are beautiful.”
“The floors and ceiling sold me on the place,” he confessed.
She walked around the room and checked out his big, comfy sofa and the other furnishings he’d painstakingly selected. Who knew that shopping for furniture could be so difficult?
“You did good on the furnishings.” She sank into the big faux leather sectional he’d gotten at a big box store for a steal. “Nice.”
He offered his hand. “Come on. I’ll show you the bedrooms.”
At the door of the first, smaller bedroom, she smiled. “Chester’s room is cute.”
Chet had gone to a lot of trouble to give his son a room he’d feel at home in. “It’s small but he likes it.”
“Who wouldn’t?” She checked out the decorating, which was a stroll down Sesame Street with all the props, like Oscar the Grouch’s trash can that served as a storage place for toys.
She turned to Chet. “You did really good.”
“There’s one last room to see.” He took her hand again.
Before they entered the master bedroom, she peeked into the hall bath. “Kind of guyish but it’s cool.”
“I thought Chester and I could share that bath so you’d have your own private space.”
Her smile widened. “Thank you. A girl needs her own space.”
As soon as she’d told him she would move in, he’d r
ushed to Bed Bath & Beyond and bought all new bedding. And the curtains. He’d tried hard to capture a little feminine elegance while not completely diminishing his manhood.
He hadn’t had time to repaint the walls but the pale green and tan stripes of the bedding worked with the sand colored walls. There was also a tiny lavender stripe in the bedding. The clerk who’d helped him assured Chet that tiny little line of feminine color would make all the difference. She’d suggested he buy sheets in that color as well.
“Wow.” Lori plopped on the bed to try out the mattress. “You do have a feminine side.”
His smile vanished. “The bedding is new. I picked it out with you in mind.” No need to mention the clerk who’d helped or the fact that his previous bedding had been camouflage. He did not have a feminine side. “I’m a guy, all the way.”
She grabbed his hand and pulled him onto the bed with her. “You want to prove that, big guy?”
She leaned forward and kissed his throat at the vee of his shirt.
“What about all your stuff in the truck?” They’d rented a truck to move her belongings rather than borrowing one from a friend. That way there was no need to explain. They had decided to keep this move low profile. The goal was to avoid feeding the rumor mill in the department by borrowing a truck.
“It can wait.” Lori teased his lips.
“But we have to pick up Chester in an hour.”
Her face fell and she pushed off the bed and walked to the window.
Chet sighed. He had worried that this was going to be a problem after the way Chester behaved the other night. He got to his feet and went to stand behind her. “We’ll make this work.”
“He hates me, Chet. He really does.”
The pain in her voice was like a knife stabbing deep into his gut. “He just has to get used to you. To us.”
She turned around to face him, her eyes watery with worry. “Are you sure? Maybe I’m just not mom material and he senses that.”
Chet laughed softly. “You are the most amazing woman in the world and I swear to you that my son will learn to love you just as much as I do.”
Lori nodded. “Okay.”
“Does that mean you haven’t changed your mind?”
She laughed, the real McCoy. “Give me five minutes and I’ll let you decide for yourself.”
10:00 a.m.
This was the first time Jess had had the opportunity to have a real look around the yard of her new place. Technically it wasn’t her yard, but she got the benefit of the picturesque view without the physical labor involved with upkeep. Louis certainly had his hands full with maintenance. The man had endless flower beds. Some raised stone beds. Brick ones. And lots of different sizes, shapes, and colors of flowerpots.
Despite the heat already building and with a glass of iced tea in hand, she strolled. The sweats and tee and flip-flops made for the perfect Saturday morning attire. There was no one to impress and no need for a place to carry her weapon. Her case was closed and she was ready for a nice weekend break.
Jess paused at the most recent flower bed she’d noticed Louis working on into the late evening hours the other night. Seemed a little late in the summer to be planting, but then what did she know? She had no green thumb. Maybe she would ask Lily, just out of curiosity. The way the bed was mounded reminded her of a grave. She shuddered. Just went to show she spent too much time around bodies. Jess crouched down and plucked loose the little plastic tag stuck in the ground to see the type of plants he’d selected. Lantana. Plant in full sun.
“That tells me absolutely nothing.” She tucked the tag back into place.
“They love the sun and the heat.”
Startled, Jess pushed to her feet. “Good morning.” She gave herself a mental pop against the forehead. “I was just admiring your lovely gardens.”
“This spot was looking a little lonesome for company.”
He smiled at her. Jess was pretty sure he didn’t do that often. “You have an amazing talent for bringing an outside landscape to life.”
“Not so much talent as time on my hands.” He surveyed his work. “You run out of things to do and well… you know what the Bible says about that.”
“Idle hands are the devil’s tools.” It had been a long time since she’d gone to church but she remembered the basics.
“That says it all, doesn’t it?”
“I guess it does.” Jess kicked herself for not having done this already. “Thank you so much for the glider. I love it. I really do.”
“As I said, it was gathering dust in the garage.” He waved his arm wide. “What is mine is yours, to quote Shakespeare.”
With that he turned and disappeared back into his home.
“What is yours is mine,” she finished the quote. What a peculiar man.
Jess climbed the steps and returned to her little haven. Maybe today she’d go in search of a couple of side chairs and a sofa. Birmingham had plenty of neat thrift stores. She didn’t dare invite Lily. If she even mentioned she needed furniture her sister would have the whole church rushing over to donate to the cause.
Her apartment was cool inside and it smelled like the fresh blossoms candle she had lit. It hadn’t taken her five minutes to do a little straightening up. She didn’t have enough stuff to make a mess yet.
Her cell chirped at her and she walked to the table to check it. Voice mail. She tapped the screen. Not a number she recognized. Just the same, she hit play.
A woman cleared her throat. “Jessie Lee, this is your… aunt Wanda.”
Anger stirred instantly at the sound of the woman’s voice.
“I’ve done some thinking and you’re right about needing some family history. So I made a list of everything I know about our folks. I’ll mail it to you if you want. Or you can come by and pick it up. I don’t know where you live but I could bring it to the police department I guess. Just… let me know… ah… bye.”
Jess played the voice mail again. She started to delete it but decided not to. She needed whatever she could get from the woman for Lily.
Her cell clanged. Jess jumped. “Damn it!”
She stared at the screen. Another number she didn’t recognize. “Harris.”
“Chief Harris, this is Hector Debarros.”
Jess tensed. “Mr. Debarros, hello. Do you have a message from Mr. Lopez?” Hearing from him at this point about the Norwood victims was pretty much a moot point but she wasn’t about to say as much.
“The two executions were carried out by rebels against our clique. They have been taken care of.”
She supposed, like Captain Allen said, that saved the taxpayers the cost of an investigation and a trial. Not to mention housing in whatever jail the perps ended up in. But that view was wrong.
“Mr. Lopez also said that I should tell you that the problem you had in the BPD has resolved itself. You are no longer in danger from that source. He believes you have yourself an angel de la guarda.”
Another wave of tension rippled through her. “What does that mean, Mr. Debarros?”
“You need not worry, Chief Harris, you have a guardian angel.”
The call ended.
Jess stared at the phone. She stamped her foot. “What is with all this angel talk?” Frustrated, she tossed her phone into her bag and grabbed her keys. “Shopping is what I need.”
If she found a sofa she’d have to call Harper. Unless the store provided delivery. She laughed at herself. She’d never heard of thrift stores providing delivery services but who knew.
Maybe she could rent one of those trucks by the hour from the Home Depot. Couldn’t be that different from driving a car. Then again, she’d still need Harper’s strong back.
Or Dan’s.
She’d figure it out.
She opened the door and instantly jumped back.
“I was just about to knock.”
Daniel Burnett stood in her doorway. “You can’t call before you show up at my door?” What was it with men these days? They
thought women were just moping around the house waiting for them to appear?
“I had to drop off a couple of antiques in the neighborhood from the silent auction the other night. I thought I’d stop by and see if you wanted to have an early lunch.”
“You making deliveries in that fancy Mercedes of yours?”
He shook his head. “I’m using my dad’s truck.”
“Your dad has a truck?”
“Ford F150. Crew cab. 3.7 liter V-6. Flex fuel,” he bragged, though she had no idea what all that meant.
“Yes,” she enthused. “Lunch would be awesome. You don’t mind helping me run a few errands, do you?”
His gaze narrowed with suspicion. “What kind of errands?”
“I need a few things.” She smiled. “I promised to make you dinner here tonight. I’ll make it extra special.”
“Is that a bribe?”
She nodded. “Absolutely.”
He came inside, forcing her to back up a step, and closed the door behind him. “Give me a little preview and I might be persuaded.”
She dropped her bag to the floor and reached for the buttons of his shirt. “I’ll take my time undoing every one of these buttons.” She kept going until she’d reached the one that disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. “Sorry I can’t get to that one.” She gave him a wicked look. “Unless I do this.” She tugged the button at his waistband loose. The sound of his fly lowering made him groan. She pulled his shirt loose and finished the unbuttoning.
“Then,” she flattened her palms on his chest. He shivered. “I’ll explore all this delicious territory.” She smoothed her palms over his chest, down his rib cage, her heart ached at the feel of the scar Eric Spears had left him with. She banished thoughts of that bastard. This was hers and Dan’s time. No one else mattered. He was breathing heavily. The idea that he was so ready for more had her burning up. A fire for him had been smoldering deep inside her all week. “But I’m a little greedy so that will never be enough.”
She pushed his jeans and briefs down his thighs. “Hmm.” Her fingers wrapped around him. He shuddered.
Just to torture him, she backed up a step and kicked off the flip-flops, slid her sweats and panties down her thighs, leaving them in a puddle on the floor as she reclaimed the space between them.
