Baby Jane Doe

by Julie Miller

  Shauna slyly moved beyond his reach and began to pace. The nurse had said the work on Eli’s arm would take about an hour to complete. It was nearly that now. She’d like to send Michael on his way before he took issue with that part of her life, too. “I was targeted during the Cattlemen’s Bank shooting. You didn’t seem to think that was personal.”

  “Didn’t I? Who was one of the first cops on that scene? Who offered to run the press conference for you so you could get out of the spotlight for a few minutes to get cleaned up and catch your breath?”

  She had to give him that one. “You.”

  “Me.” With a shushing gesture from the ward clerk at the desk, Shauna allowed Michael to take her elbow and steer them back to a quiet corner of the waiting room. “You know, maybe if you stopped flitting around with that Eli Masterson…”

  “Flitting?”

  “Secret meetings. Sneaking off for lunch with him.”

  “I didn’t have lunch with Eli.”

  “You were both at Union Station at the same time.”

  Did Betty broadcast her private agenda to anyone who asked? “I was having lunch with my ex-husband to discuss a bad investment. Not that that’s any of your business. Eli…” Oops, she couldn’t afford to give Michael any more fodder for his “flitting” imagination. “Detective Masterson was having lunch at another table.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing Masterson was there to save the day.” He shook his head as he looked down at her. Talked down to her. “He’s bad news, Shauna. You know he was partnered with Joe Niederhaus, right? The I.A. cop who almost blew the Arnie Sanchez murder trial? The cop who got other cops killed while he lined his pockets with cash?”

  Shauna hugged her arms across her stomach, stemming the frisson of anger that threatened to spill over into a real fight with her deputy. “Detective Masterson is not Joe Niederhaus. You can’t judge a man by the people he’s worked with.”

  “You don’t see any other cops lining up to be his partner, do you? And now he’s sticking his nose into the Baby Jane Doe case? At the eleventh hour when we’ve already got our man? Do you think the guy has a death wish? Maybe another cop was trying to run him down today, not you.”

  Forget diplomacy. “That’s it, Michael. We are through discussing this.”

  “Hanging with Masterson will get you hurt.”

  “I am not hanging—”

  “Dammit, Shauna, I didn’t come here to pick a fight. I’m worried about you. I care about you.” He caught her by the arm when she tried to walk away. He wisely retreated, holding his hands up in placating surrender. “Maybe you should take a few days off. Get out of town—out of the country, even—where you’ll be safe and you can relax and regroup until this whole Yours Truly thing blows over.”

  She didn’t for one minute think the escalating threats were going to “blow over” unless she uncovered the truth before Yours Truly could carry out his ultimate threat. But leave the country? “Sounds like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

  “I’m trying to keep you safe. You know I can run things for you if you need me to.”

  “I like the way the boss lady runs things.” Eli’s deep voice resonated through the air behind her, sending a shiver of awareness across her skin.

  “Well, look who’s here. This conversation doesn’t concern you, Detective.” Shauna wanted to turn away from Michael’s told-you-so gloat as much as she wanted to see that Eli was truly all right. But she barely had time to note the green hospital scrubs stretched tautly across his shoulders before Michael took another stab at her character. “Are you going to tell me that this is a coincidence, too? Shauna, it goes against every rule in the book to fraternize with—”

  “Don’t quote me the rules, Michael. One of my men was wounded saving my life.” He had the stitches and bruises and bandage to prove it. “I don’t think it’s out of line to drive him to the hospital.”

  “But it is out of line to drive him home and give him a little TLC.”

  The urge to slap his smug face itched through her fingers. But she knew a better way to put him in his place. “You’d better hope you never get hurt, Michael. Because you won’t be getting any TLC from me.”

  “Just remember. I warned you about him.” The him Michael was referring to had walked right up behind her, close enough for her to feel the warmth from his body, close enough to worry that he’d defend her honor against Michael’s slurs with the same zeal with which he’d defended her life. “I don’t want to see you lose your career, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  She looked away from Michael’s final pleading glance, but Eli never so much as blinked at the man-to-man standoff that lasted all of two seconds before Michael pulled on his jacket and left the hospital.

  “That was pleasant,” Eli drawled sarcastically.

  “Bite me.” Shauna went back to her chair to retrieve her purse and her copies of the paperwork the clerk had filed for them.

  “Love to.”

  “Eli. You just heard what he could do to me if he can prove any impropriety between us.”

  “Forget it. You’re not getting rid of me.”

  She didn’t think so. “Could you at least keep a professional distance when we’re out in public?”

  “Unless another car tries to mow you down. Then I won’t make any promises.”

  “Eli.” Reprimanding this one was useless. But unlike Michael, he gave her her space when she asked him to. “I have one more stop I want to make before I drive you home. You can either wait here or tag along.”

  Five minutes later they were standing in the doorway of room 3036, staring at Richard Powell’s empty, pristinely made, unoccupied bed.

  “What do you mean, he was discharged?” The nurse’s aide didn’t deserve the snap in Shauna’s voice, but it had already been too long a day. She had her phone out and was dialing the jail’s main desk before she apologized and sent the girl on her way. “I left specific instructions to be notified when Powell was transferred to lockup.”

  A clear memory of those ice-gray eyes chilled her as she listened to the desk sergeant’s woeful story about a transfer mix-up with a petty criminal who was now locked away in a solitary cell while Powell had been mistakenly released. Eli was already leading her to the stairwell, his ever-vigilant eyes scanning each doorway and corner before they walked past.

  “The man killed two people!”

  The desk sergeant cursed and apologized. Then cursed again. “I’ll get an APB out on him immediately. Put the department on full alert.”

  “Do that.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry…I’ve been distracted by—”

  Now wasn’t the time to listen to personal excuses. “How long has Powell been gone?”

  The sergeant checked her computer. “According to our records, he was released this morning.”

  In plenty of time to get behind the wheel of a sky-blue Buick and try to kill her again.

  Chapter Nine

  “Mom, the kitchen’s clean already. Have a seat and relax. It’s gorgeous outside tonight. Come see.”

  Shauna hung up the dish towel and left the kitchen to find her grown daughter propped on the back of the sofa beside the dog. Both rested their respective paws or elbows on the sill of the turret window and stared out into the night. “By ‘gorgeous,’ you’re not referring to that black SUV parked out front again, are you?”

  She’d already endured a bout of teasing over the “dark-haired hunk” sitting in the shadows away from the street lamp outside, keeping watch over the place. Sarah tucked her hair behind her ears and rolled her eyes one more time. “I don’t understand why you make him sit out in the car all night. You let Sadie in the house.”

  “Sadie’s family,” Shauna reasoned. “And I invited Detective Masterson in for dinner.”

  “Yeah, with me sitting in the middle playing referee while you two tried not to flirt with each other.”

  How did she explain departmental protocol and tempting
fate to a hopeless romantic like Sarah? Shauna sat on the edge of the sofa and stroked Sadie’s fur. “I’m the top dog at KCPD. My character has to be above reproach—even more so because I’m a woman in a position of authority. It’s not fair, but it’s reality. I have to be someone my men can look up to and someone the public can identify with and trust.”

  “The public can’t identify with a woman wanting to be with an attractive man?” Sarah touched her forehead and cheek, emulating the marks Eli now bore. “I think the bruises and bandages give him a more rugged look.”

  Much as it pained Shauna to see the wounds sustained on her behalf, they did provide an evocative contrast to the sophisticated intelligence in those incredible eyes. She shook off the image that came to mind far too easily. Aesthetics were beside the point. “Would you want any of your parents to think you had some kind of relationship—beyond the classroom—with one of your students?”

  “Gross.” Sarah scrunched her face into a dramatic frown, then smiled and winked as she tipped her head toward the window. “But Detective Masterson isn’t any ten-year-old. He’s a full-grown specimen of tall, dark and handsome. And he’s got the hots for you.”

  “Please. I’m ten years older than he is. He’s much more likely to be attracted to a pretty young woman like you.”

  After that close encounter in the SUV on the way to the hospital yesterday, Shauna had finally rationalized that it was just the proximity of working together and the stress of a few close calls that had allowed any sort of attraction to develop between her and Eli. She was lonely. He was lonely. Yesterday, they’d needed each other to survive. Toss them together and it was a volatile mix. But she was smart enough to be able to differentiate between hormones and necessity, and something truly meaningful.

  She had to derail her daughter’s—as well as her own—foolish hope that any kind of relationship with Eli could happen.

  “He had his eye on you at dinner,” Shauna suggested.

  Sarah laughed. “To get me to pass him the shepherd’s pie or the salad bowl. I swear, if he were staring any harder at your backside while you were fixing coffee at the counter, I was going to ask you two to get a room.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” Shauna wouldn’t admit that she’d felt that appreciative heat. She’d been flattered by his silent attention. And dismayed to discover that even something as mundane as a family dinner could be charged with the sexual tension that sparked between them. She’d put his coffee in a to-go mug and sent him back outside as quickly as possible.

  “It’s not ridiculous. He’s spent the last four nights sleeping in the car outside your house. Not mine. Not anybody else’s.”

  “He’s doing his job,” Shauna insisted. “I told you about Richard Powell. Chances are, he’s already skipped town. But until we find him,” along with the sky-blue Buick and the identity of Yours Truly, “I’ve ordered a watch put on all three of us.”

  “Eli’s an investigator, Mom, not security. He’s doing this on his own time. Because he likes you.” Sarah was as sure an affair between her mom and the lone-wolf detective could happen as Michael Garner and Austin and maybe even the press already suspected was going on. The rumors alone were probably already affecting her command. “Frankly, I like him. And I think you do, too.”

  “Don’t you have papers to grade or something?”

  “Not tonight.” Sadie woofed and hopped to her feet. Sarah looked out the window and grinned. “Besides, the show out front is much more interesting.”

  Sadie barked. Twice. There had to be some sort of movement outside to get the dog’s tail wagging like that. Shauna wasn’t feeling that usual sense of foreboding, that sense of being watched, that had preceded all her encounters with Yours Truly thus far. But any unusual activity could be cause for alarm. She scrambled onto her sore knees to match Sarah’s position at the window. “What show?”

  “Seth’s wrestling with that female reporter on the front lawn.”

  “Oh, God.” Shauna leaped to her bare feet, deactivated the alarm and charged outside, with Sarah and the dog close on her heels. “Seth Cartwright!”

  They were well and truly wrestling. Not talking. Not just arguing. Her over-built son had pinned that gangly Rebecca Page to the ground. The grass stain on the butt of his jeans indicated that she’d gotten in at least one good lick before he’d rolled her flat on her back and trapped her squirming legs and body beneath his. “You stay away from my family,” Seth warned her. “Stay out of our business.”

  Eli ran up behind Shauna, hooking his Glock back into its holster. “She’s been sitting outside for about fifteen minutes, using the phone in her car. I IDed her and explained this probably wasn’t the safest place to be, but she chose to stay. Your son just now drove up. I guess he thought a more forcible intervention was required.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me she was here?” Shauna demanded. She snatched at Seth’s shoulder, but he shook her off, dodged a flash of teeth and spread-eagled the reporter beneath him. “Son, stop!”

  “What happened to the lecture on keeping a low profile?” Eli shot right back, circling around to assist. “She wasn’t breaking any laws.”

  “I have a right to pursue my story.” Rebecca kicked at Seth’s shins, uselessly trying to free herself. “My readers want to know the truth.”

  Seth absorbed each blow without flinching. “The second you stepped foot in this yard you were on private property. Without permission.”

  “Easy, buddy.” Eli grabbed the back of Seth’s T-shirt, wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him off the reporter.

  “Get off me!”

  Eli lifted Seth to his feet and quickly shifted positions to pin his arms to control the younger, stronger man. “Not ’til you calm down.”

  As soon as Rebecca Page could sit up, she countered with clawing fingers aimed at Seth’s face. “You jerk! I’m doing my job!”

  Seth twisted against Eli’s grip. “I’m protecting my family!”

  Shauna pulled Rebecca to her feet and restrained her. “Both of you—stop it. Right now.”

  Rebecca Page struggled, but Shauna held fast. “There’s never a cop around when you really need one. Now all four of you are ganging up on me?”

  “I’m not a cop,” Sarah volunteered, corralling Sadie by the collar. But Rebecca wasn’t in the mood for humor.

  “How many cops do you have watching Richard Powell?”

  Shauna didn’t react to the challenge in Rebecca’s tone, but she found the question itself disturbing. “What do you know about Richard Powell?”

  Seth jerked against the arm twisted behind his back. “Answer her.”

  “Cool your jets, already,” Eli warned.

  Fuming over his shoulder, Seth demanded, “What the hell are you doing here, anyway, Masterson?”

  “That’s my business, Seth. Not yours.” Shauna wasn’t going to be messed with. The first step to taking control of this situation was to control her son. “I don’t know how they do things down at the Riverboat. But here, I’m in charge and I ask the questions.”

  Seth was still breathing hard, but the attitude backed off from confrontational to wary resignation. Good. One down, one to go. Shauna turned her attention to the defiant woman in her grasp. “Now—tell me what you know about Richard Powell.”

  “He killed two men at the Cattlemen’s Bank—his alleged accomplices. Charlie Melito was a crack-head, as far as I know. He was probably involved just to get the money. But Victor Goldsmith—the banker who died—my dad investigated him.” Shauna knew that Rebecca had replaced her father, a crime reporter, at the Kansas City Journal after his untimely death. “Dad ran out of time to prove it, but I know he suspected Goldsmith of doing some money-laundering for the same people Richard Powell worked for.”

  Her just-the-facts tone was laced with sarcasm. “You know, organized crime? That robbery might not have been about money at all.”

  Shauna had suspected that from the beginning. The papers from the vault
they’d taken from Powell’s briefcase had been accounting books. “So you think the robbery was just an elaborate stage for a hit on Goldsmith?”

  “You’re the detectives. You tell me.” Rebecca turned her head to include all of them in her next accusation. “KCPD doesn’t deserve its reputation. I know you’ve lost track of Powell. He’s not in jail or the hospital anymore. Your hit man’s a fugitive.”

  “And how did you find that out?”

  “I asked the hospital staff. They know he checked out, but the jail has no record of him checking in.”

  “You didn’t get that information from the hospital staff.” Not for the first time, Shauna wondered if she had a traitor working for her. “You must have a very good friend in the department.”

  “I have a lot of good friends in a lot of places.” Rebecca’s claim sounded more like bravado than fact. “And I won’t tell you any of their names.”

  Eli captured Shauna’s attention with a single look, then inclined his head toward the porch light that had just come on across the street. “We need to move this inside or downtown.”

  Agreed. Time to end this conversation. “Did you have a specific question for me, Rebecca?”

  “Mom—” Seth lunged forward, but Eli held him fast. “Just get rid of her. Anything she prints will cause us trouble.”

  “Freedom of the press is one of the rights I defend, son. Your question, Ms. Page?”

  Rebecca tipped her chin up, taking advantage of the slight height advantage she had over Seth in order to look down her nose at his interference. “You were there when Goldsmith was shot, Commissioner. I want to know if you saw anything to back up my theory that it was a hit, not a robbery. After what I saw at Union Station yesterday, I thought…was that some kind of payback? Was Powell driving that car?”

  Had Powell specifically lined her up in his sights at the bank? Or had Shauna simply been an unlucky target? She shivered, fearing she already knew that answer. And suddenly, unmistakably, she knew that her neighbors across the street weren’t the only ones watching this party on the front lawn with interest.