Harlequin Intrigue April 2021--Box Set 2 of 2

by Carol Ericson

  A little chill zipped up her spine, and Kyra gritted her teeth. None of them cared. They were driven by some evil inside them. They couldn’t be human. Too bad their outer appearance didn’t reflect their inner demons for everyone to see and avoid.

  “Are you all right?” Jake pointed at her untouched food. “You probably didn’t come to visit Quinn to talk about this case. Sorry I ruined your dinner.”

  Kyra glanced at Quinn from beneath her lashes. “Don’t worry about me. This is my work, too.”

  Jake’s lips twisted into a smile, and a flash of heat claimed Kyra’s body. That bone he’d thrown her before about her rapport with the Lindquists had been designed to get Quinn on his side. Jake needed Quinn. He didn’t think he needed her or her skills at all. He had no idea.

  “Jake’s right. Eat your food.” Quinn wiped his napkin across his face. “You never did tell me what brought you over here, Kyra. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company and fish and chips from the King’s Head?”

  She dug into her food. “Just wanted to make sure you were taking care of yourself. You know how the air quality aggravates your breathing, and there’s a fire near Malibu Canyon.”

  “Has that been getting worse?” Jake crumpled his napkin and tossed it onto his empty plate. Easing back, he rested his ankle on his knee, extending his arms across the back of the love seat, his hand dipping toward her shoulder, a little too close for comfort. “When I left work, it sounded like the fire department had that under control.”

  She shook her head. “The winds have been whipping up in the canyons, and the dry brush from the minimal rainfall last winter is fueling the fire. I could smell it when I got out of the car.”

  “I sat on my deck earlier today reading and didn’t notice it.” Quinn lifted his hunched shoulders. “But thanks for checking on me.”

  Jake slid her a glance from the corner of his eye, still wondering at the relationship between her and Quinn. He wasn’t LAPD’s hotshot detective and first pick for this task force for nothing.

  Toying with the last of the fries on her plate, Kyra said, “I knew Charlotte, Quinn’s wife. Uh, we got friendly when she needed a therapist’s perspective for a certain character.”

  “I’ll have to pick up one of her books. I’m sure your wife must’ve gotten a lot of ideas from you, sir.” Jake hunched forward and lifted his plate. “Are you finished?”

  “I am.” She stacked her plate on top of Quinn’s and handed them both to Jake.

  As Jake carried the dishes to the kitchen, Quinn called after him. “Do you want another beer, Jake?”

  “I’m good. I have to drive back to my place in Hollywood. Can I get you another?”

  Before Quinn could answer in the affirmative, Kyra held up her hand to him. “Think long and hard about that answer.”

  “You’re a tyrant. Are you channeling Charlotte?” Quinn finished the last sip of his beer. “I guess that’s a no for me, Jake.”

  Jake set the dishes in the sink and rinsed them off. “Should I put these in the dishwasher?”

  Kyra raised her eyebrows at his domesticity although she’d heard through the grapevine that he was single. As a bachelor, he’d know his way around a kitchen. She just never imagined Jake McAllister doing anything as pedestrian as the dishes—and the past few days, she’d been imagining Jake McAllister doing a lot of things.

  “Yes, dishwasher. Are you done with your beer?” Her hand hovered over his bottle.

  “Done.”

  She picked up the bottle and a few mouthfuls sloshed at the bottom. A lot of cops hit the booze to deal with the stress. Jake must have other outlets...or none at all if she were to believe all the stories about him. If you didn’t have a way to cope with the anxiety of the job, it had a nasty habit of building up and exploding.

  She reached across the table to collect Quinn’s empty. The retired detective had had his own issues with alcohol, but Charlotte had straightened him out.

  Quinn encircled her wrist with his arthritic fingers and whispered, “Are you all right?”

  She gave him a quick nod and rose with all three bottles clutched to her chest. She joined Jake in the kitchen, where she got a prime view of his backside in his work slacks as he bent over the dishwasher, putting the plates in the slots on the bottom rack. When he straightened to his full height, he almost backed into her.

  “Oops.” She held the bottles over her head. “I was just going to put these in the recycling bin.”

  “I’ll do it. You know what they say about too many cooks in the kitchen?” He reached up to take the bottles from her hands, moving close enough so that they almost stood chest to chest.

  She blinked as she kept her hold on the bottles. “We’re not cooking.”

  He jerked back and when she released the beer, one bottle fell to the floor where it bounced once.

  “What the hell is going on in there? That kitchen is too small for the two of you to be dancing around. If he wants to help, let him help, Kyra. You don’t have to control everything.”

  Jake cracked a smile for a brief second before he picked up the bottle. “Sounds like Quinn knows you well.”

  “But you don’t.” She leveled a finger at him and flounced out of the kitchen on shaky legs. She wasn’t mad at Jake, or Quinn, for that matter, but when Jake had smiled—even though it had been at her expense—something flickered in her heart and she wanted to stomp it out before Jake took up any more space in her brain.

  She sat on the arm of Quinn’s chair, no longer willing to share the love seat with Jake. When he returned to the living room, he snagged his shoulder holster from a table near the door.

  “I didn’t mean to stay so long and disrupt your visit...and eat your food. I’m going to head out.”

  “I invited you and you’re welcome back anytime.” As Quinn struggled out of his chair, Kyra jumped off the arm and cupped his elbow to give him a boost.

  “You don’t have to get up for me.” Jake slung one strap of his holster over one shoulder. “I appreciate the offer. I think you can provide us with some valuable insight into this case even if it’s not The Player back in action.”

  “I usher you into my house—” Quinn took a step forward, shrugging off Kyra’s hand “—I usher you out of my house. Just don’t be like this one, showing up unannounced and uninvited to harass me.”

  Kyra squeezed Quinn’s arm. “You wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “Thanks for the dinner. I’ll pay you back or buy you a lunch at the station sometime.”

  Jake sure knew how to charm a girl.

  She tossed back her ponytail. “Save it. I’m good. I just ask that you keep me in the loop. Use my services. I’m no novice at this, and I’m not going to do an end run behind your back.”

  Jake’s eyebrows shot up to a single lock of dark hair that curled onto his forehead.

  Did he really think she didn’t know why he didn’t trust her? She’d been there.

  “Yeah, no problem about that sandwich.” He reached past her and shook Quinn’s hand. “Sir, good to meet you.”

  When he stepped onto the porch, Kyra slammed the door after him. “What an insufferable...jerk. Did you hear that comment about the sandwich? He’d rather buy me lunch than keep me informed.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Sounded like he respected you. Sure seemed to be something between the two of you.”

  “Something between us?” Her mouth dropped open.

  “I don’t know.” Quinn made a beeline for his chair. “Electricity. Excitement. Something like that. You’re not immune to his charms.”

  “Charms?” Kyra blew out a breath as she got Quinn settled in his recliner. “You’ve been married too long if you think that man is charming.”

  Quinn’s laugh exploded from his chest in a short burst. “Okay, now sit down and tell me what you really think
about these murders. You’re sure you’re doing all right?”

  “I’m fine, fascinated, really.” She took the side of the love seat that Jake had occupied earlier, and his scent enveloped her—a spicy smell from his deodorant or body wash, activated by the heat, and a not unpleasant odor that she could only describe as pure masculinity.

  “Did Jake mention that the second victim was missing some jewelry? It might be a second trophy, in addition to the finger.”

  “That would be—”

  A pounding on the door stopped Quinn in midsentence.

  “Quinn, Kyra, it’s Jake. I just got some news.”

  Kyra jumped up, her heart racing, and dashed for the front door. When she swung it open, Jake charged past her, his cell phone in his hand.

  “What is it?” Kyra hugged herself, her fingers digging into her arms. “Did they catch him?”

  Jake came to an abrupt halt next to Quinn’s chair and tapped his cell phone. “Didn’t catch him, but he just made a big mistake.”

  “Someone saw him? He left prints?” Kyra stood at the door, her eyes wide.

  “He just called us to give us the location of another body.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Kyra gasped and brought her hand to her throat. “Another body? That’s three now.”

  Jake took half a step toward her. Likely sensing his movement, Kyra straightened her spine, making it obvious that she didn’t play the damsel in distress.

  Quinn scratched his chin with the edge of his cane. “Why would he give you this location and not the others? Is it because nobody else found this body?”

  “That’s part of it. He may have been content to wait, but the fire forced his hand.”

  Kyra’s fingers clawed against the pale skin of her neck. “He’s afraid the fire is going to destroy the body and he won’t get credit.”

  “Exactly.” Now Jake knew why his first instinct after receiving the call was to return to this room, to these two people who seemed to get it.

  “What the hell are you waiting for?” Quinn pounded his cane on the floor. “You two need to get out there.”

  Kyra brushed past Jake and dropped a kiss on Quinn’s cheek. “Take care. We’ll keep you posted.”

  When they stepped outside, Jake’s nose twitched at the faint smell of smoke. “The wind must’ve shifted. I didn’t even smell the fire before.”

  “Should I follow you over?”

  “No point in taking two cars. I have my unmarked vehicle parked on the red. I didn’t mean to leave it there that long.”

  “This is LAPD territory—I’m sure they ran your plate. But if you’re offering, I’ll tag along with you.”

  When they made it to the car and slid inside, Jake peeled away from the curb and glanced at Kyra. “I interrupted you and Quinn again.”

  “Believe me, I appreciated the interruption.” She gathered her hair in one hand and dragged it over her shoulder. She loosened it from its regular ponytail, and it shimmered in the dark of the car. “I suppose there’s a trace going out on the phone as we speak.”

  “Yeah, but if it’s a burner phone, we’ll be out of luck.” He accelerated onto the freeway, which had shed half the traffic from rush hour.

  She tilted her head at him. “When you walked into Quinn’s, you said the killer had made a big mistake. If he used an untraceable phone, how is that a problem for him?”

  “Because he made contact.” Jake flexed his fingers on the steering wheel. “We have his voice, we have his attention. We know he’s following the case. It’s not much, but it’s more than we had before. Quinn will tell you every piece of information helps.”

  “Can’t hurt, anyway.” She tapped on the windshield. “You can see the glow to the west. So, he dumped two bodies in the Griffith Park area and one in Malibu Canyon. Do you think this one came before or after Marissa?”

  “Probably his first. That’s why he dumped Marissa and Kelsey in a more visible area. He realized he concealed his first victim too thoroughly. He must’ve been climbing the walls waiting for her to be found.”

  “I wonder if anyone has reported her missing?” Kyra gnawed on her bottom lip.

  “We have a lot of missing persons reports come through. Especially here in LA, we don’t know if they’re really missing or are runaways. Lots of runaways in this city. Lots of people from other places hoping to make it big.”

  Kyra turned her head and traced her fingers along the glass of her window. “Yeah, city of broken dreams.”

  After a few minutes of silence, Jake coughed. “Do you live near Quinn in Venice?”

  “Close. I live in Santa Monica. That’s why I’m able to pop in and see him occasionally.”

  “So, I’m actually taking you away from your home.”

  “Where do you live?”

  “Hollywood.” He kept it short. He didn’t want to get into the details of how he lived in the expensive part of Hollywood, in the hills that overlooked the city. He had his street-tough image to protect.

  “If it’s too much trouble for you to come back this way to drop me off, I can get a rideshare.” She finally turned to face him, blinking her eyes rapidly.

  He tapped his cheekbone. “Is the smoke bothering you? I can blast the AC.”

  She sniffed. “The air’s fine.”

  “And I don’t mind giving you a lift back to Santa Monica. When there’s no traffic, the driving isn’t too bad.”

  “When is there no traffic?” She rolled her eyes. “Just look at it out here. Where are all these people going?”

  “I’m sure they all have a story.” Jake steered the car off the freeway. “We’re probably going to have to show some ID to get close. The firefighters are probably not even allowing residents into the area.”

  Kyra ducked her head to peer at the orange sky. “Were any structures damaged?”

  “Not that I heard, just threatened.” Jake slowed down as he hit the twisty roads into the canyon. Gray ash floated through the air and coated his windshield, but he knew better than to smear it across the glass with his wipers.

  He squinted at the figure ahead waving his arms. He slipped the badge from his shirt pocket as he powered down the window.

  The sheriff’s deputy approached the car and bent forward. “What’s your business? Residents?”

  Jake flashed his badge. “I’m here for the body. Any LAPD on scene, yet?”

  “Yeah, couple of patrol officers. They already called the medical examiner’s office, but the meat wagon isn’t here yet.”

  Jake grimaced. How did this deputy know whether or not Kyra was a civilian? The cop should watch his lingo, although if Kyra hung out with Quinn she probably knew all about the dark humor.

  “Okay, thanks. Let the coroner’s van through when it gets here. I’m not sure how much of the crime scene we’re going to be able to process with this fire raging.” Jake drove on with the deputy’s blessing and pulled behind the LAPD squad car parked on the side of the road.

  As soon as he cut the engine, Kyra scrambled from the car and stood with her hands on her hips. “I don’t know how much you’re going to be able to do here with those flames drawing closer.”

  He strode around to her side of the car and placed his hands on her shoulders. “You need to wait here.”

  Her body stiffened, and then she ducked out of his grasp. “I know that. If anyone comes, I’ll direct them in. How long do you want to hold off the ME?”

  He tilted his head back as a gust of hot wind sent ashes and flecks of cinder swirling around his face. “Not too much longer, or we’ll lose the body completely and be running for our own lives. Maybe you should wait in the car.”

  Jake walked toward the bushes without looking back. He couldn’t control Kyra’s action. If she wanted to get back in the car, she would. If he hadn’t cautioned her against following him
to the crime scene, would she have gone with him? Without a doubt.

  He almost tripped over the yellow crime scene tape strung between two low bushes. He stepped over it and approached the LAPD officers standing watch over a decaying body, a swath of black hair spread in the dirt.

  How did the killer expect anyone to find the body here? Rookie mistake for someone wanting the notice.

  He nodded to the officers. “Detective Jake McAllister. Anyone else besides you two?”

  “You’re the first, sir. We just got orders to book over here and make sure nobody and nothing got to the body.”

  Snapping on a pair of gloves, Jake crouched beside the young woman and swept a lock of hair from her neck. The mottled color of her skin concealed any strangulation marks; he didn’t see any blood or wounds.

  Her mouth gaped open but no playing card nestled between her lips. Jake lifted her left hand with its missing finger. The wind must’ve dislodged the card and carried it away, or an animal got to it.

  This looked like a messy first effort. The copycat had improved. Had he made other mistakes with this one? Had he been seen with her? Caught on camera somewhere?

  “Damn, we need to get out of here.”

  Jake sprang to his feet and almost took a swing at Billy. “Why are you creeping around out here looking like a bank robber?”

  “Creeping?” Billy tugged on the bandanna covering the lower half of his face. “I called your name, and we both know only white dudes rob banks.”

  Jake tipped his head toward the body. “Looks like our guy. The card’s missing, but so is the finger. I can’t tell if it’s strangulation, although there are no visible wounds other than animal bites and marks.”

  Billy rubbed his hands. “And he called us. We have his voice on tape, even if he used an untraceable phone.”

  Jake scanned the blackened hillside. “Tells us something about him that he’d rather risk a call than lose credit for this body.”