Past Crimes (Alexis Parker Book 20)

by G. K. Parks

  “If you’re going to push, so am I.” He finished his set and got back on his feet. “Ready for that run?”

  “Where do you get the energy?”

  “It must have been the cheeseburger.” He gave me a sexy grin. “I hate that you’re killing yourself, but my god, you’re hot as hell.”

  “Stop that.”

  “You first.” He tossed a towel to me, so I could wipe my face.

  I laced up my sneakers and met him at the door. My legs were already shaky, but I wouldn’t let that stop me. We ran around the perimeter of his estate twice, through the gardens and around the pool, before sprinting down the long and winding private road. Once we reached the main connection, we turned and raced back. By the time we made it inside, I thought my legs would fall off.

  We showered together, Martin supporting my weight between his body and the wall when my muscles gave out. Afterward, he went to make breakfast while I sat on the floor and dried my hair. By the time I got downstairs, he was on the phone with someone from the office. I ate alone at the table, wondering what Lucien Cross, my boss, would have in store for me today.

  Ten minutes later, we were in the car on our way to work. I picked up the newspaper from where it sat on the seat between us. Below the fold on one of the interior pages, the headline caught my attention.

  Grave Uncovered at Construction Site. Not many details were included, but that had to be Heathcliff’s case. Police personnel didn’t usually come out in droves for ancient burial sites or unearthed cemeteries, so the number of investigators at the scene worried me. This wasn’t good. Who was John Doe?

  Putting the paper down, I slumped against the seat and closed my eyes. At least I wasn’t a cop, so I didn’t have to deal with any of that. It was one of the few perks of being a private detective. For the most part, I chose my own cases. But this one had my attention, and I couldn’t quite shake it.

  Martin hung up and nudged me. “Tired?”

  I opened one eye and looked at him. “What do you think?”

  “You didn’t have to get up when I did.”

  “I’ll remember that next time.”

  “Maybe we should try to get to bed earlier.” He scooted closer and stroked my cheek. “What are your plans tonight?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “My last meeting should be finished by 8:30, nine o’clock at the latest.” His phone buzzed, and he dug it out of his pocket and read the message. “Well, I hope nine o’clock will be the latest. It could be ten.”

  “How about you call me when you’re done for the night? I’ll let you know where I am and what I’m doing.” Sliding down in the seat, I rested my head against his shoulder and entwined my fingers with his.

  With his free hand, Martin picked up the paper and unfolded it over his lap. I’d almost drifted off when the car came to a stop. Peering out the window, I hoped to see a traffic light. Instead, the town car had stopped in front of the office building that housed Cross Security.

  Martin dropped the paper, grasped my face with his free hand, and kissed me a bit more passionately than he did most mornings. When he pulled away, a contented sigh passed between my lips, and he smiled.

  “Hold on to that thought.” His green eyes sparkled.

  “The only thoughts I have are about sleep.”

  “Perfect since mine are about sleeping with you.”

  “You need to work on your material.”

  “You always say that, but these lines work perfectly every time.” He gave me a quick kiss. “I’ll see you after work. I hope you’ll still be feeling good tonight.”

  “Yeah, me too.” I always got introspective as the day wore on. “I’m tired of being sad.”

  “That’s why you need grief counseling, Alexis.”

  “I know, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.” I opened the car door. “Have a good day, handsome.”

  “Stay safe, sweetheart. I love you. Remember that.”

  My hand went to the rings hanging around my neck, and I clutched them in my fist. “Ditto.”

  The town car didn’t pull away until after I made it inside the building. While I waited for the elevator, along with several accountants, realtors, and possibly a stray lawyer or two, my mind drifted to the day ahead. I had a few open investigations in the works, but Cross probably had more assignments to dole out. If he didn’t, I might swing by the precinct and see what Heathcliff was up to.

  “Good morning, Ms. Parker.” The receptionist handed me a blue folder as I stepped out of the elevator. “Mr. Cross wants you to take a look at the proposal he’s drafted. He wants your input concerning the established timetable.”

  “Fine.” I tucked the folder underneath my arm without opening it. “Does this mean no morning meeting?” Hopefully, I’d missed it.

  “No, ma’am.” She didn’t seem to notice when I cringed at the word, which always brought back bad memories. Psychologists referred to it as a trigger word. “The morning meeting will start promptly at eight.”

  “Did Cross do that intentionally just so I couldn’t skip out?”

  The receptionist didn’t understand it was a joke. “No, I don’t think so. Eight is common, unless Mr. Cross has other things on the agenda for the day.”

  “Yeah, I got it.” I raised the folder. “Thanks.” I went down the hall and let myself into my office. “Hey, Kellan.”

  My associate’s office was across from mine, and since he had his door open, I figured he’d be able to hear me despite the hum of another bustling morning at Cross Security.

  “Are you talking to me today?” he asked.

  “I’m considering it.”

  “That’s nice. I never know when you’re talking to me and when you’re not.”

  “That’s on you, buddy. Spying is a no-no.”

  “Yeah, I got the memo,” he mumbled.

  “Do you know what Cross has been up to all morning?” I flipped open the folder and scanned the details. Our boss wanted to know if I could perform an evaluation and a potential overhaul of a new client’s thirty-three story office building and internet protocols in less than two weeks. That would require full-time commitment. I’d have to give up pesky habits like sleeping, eating, and bathing to get it finished in time.

  “No idea. He’s holed up upstairs. The assistants have been scurrying around, so it must be big.”

  “Of course, it’s big.” I closed the folder and stuck it beneath the tray at the edge of my desk before turning on my computer. “Everything Lucien does is big.”

  “That’s what she said.”

  I turned to look at Kellan.

  He grinned, letting out a snort. “Hey, it’s just a guess. It’s not like I’ve seen him with any supermodels lately.”

  “I have. Well, she wasn’t a supermodel, but she was beautiful.”

  “Seriously?”

  Gossiping with Kellan was asking for trouble, but I missed talking to him. “It was during our trip to Vegas.”

  “They’re all gorgeous in Vegas. Was she a showgirl?”

  “I don’t think so.” I turned back to the notes and files on my desk.

  “Stripper? Prostitute?”

  “You’re talking about our boss.”

  “Dominatrix, then?”

  I stifled my laugh, pushing the thoughts out of my mind. Cross had a large tattoo on his back. He must have some tolerance for pain. He might even enjoy it. “Any idea why he delayed this morning’s meeting?”

  “Eight a.m. is not a delay. You’re just usually not here this early.” Kellan stepped into my office with two mugs. He put one of them down on my desk and studied me closely. “Puffy eyes.” He cocked his head to the side, waiting for an explanation, but I silently sipped my coffee and browsed the Lopez file. “Are you still having trouble sleeping? Or is it something else? Is everything okay?”

  “I’m fine. I just don’t like mornings.”

  “Me neither.”

  “At least I got up.” Plenty of people who knew
me no longer had that luxury. Again, morbid thoughts and flashes from brutal crime scenes filled my mind. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. I couldn’t do anything to change it. I could only move on and do better next time. When I opened my eyes, Kellan was staring at me. “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing. I’ll meet you in the conference room.” He tapped his watch. “Two minute warning.”

  I clicked the icon and checked my e-mail. Cross had left me half a dozen messages regarding two of my investigations and the new assignment he just gave me. Aside from that, I didn’t see anything pressing.

  Again, my thoughts returned to Heathcliff’s case and the mysterious John Doe. Based on the photo in the paper, it looked like the police could use the help, and I’d much rather look into that matter than the assignments Cross had given me.

  With a few minutes to spare, I searched the internet for any updates on the story. The news outlets didn’t have an ID. From the way the articles read, the media knew less about the situation than I did. But that kind of police presence meant something. I just didn’t know what.

  Shaking off the realization that I’d come full circle in my musings this morning, I grabbed a blank legal pad and my cup of coffee and headed down the hall to the conference room. To my surprise, the morning meeting hadn’t started yet.

  Kellan pointed to the empty chair across from him. “I saved you a seat.”

  “You hate me that much?”

  Bennett Renner, another Cross Security investigator, chuckled and pulled it out for me as I rounded the table. “Have you spoken to Lucien this morning?” he asked.

  “No, but he left me a whopper of an assignment.” The clock on the wall said 8:04. Cross was always punctual. Something was up. I looked around at the dozen investigators assembled. “Has anyone seen Cross this morning?”

  “He’s here,” someone said. “He’s been on the phone since he got in.”

  “He must have a big fish on the hook,” Renner said.

  “Let’s hope not,” I mumbled. That would mean more busy work for us.

  Just then, Lucien Cross entered the conference room with a stack of folders. He handed them out and took a seat at the head of the table. Despite my recent avoidance of these meetings, I’d been to enough of them to know something had Cross stressed. I just didn’t know what.

  Four

  Cross went around the table, asking for updates on our cases before doling out additional assignments. As usual, I was the only one without a folder. I liked to believe it was because I was technically a private contractor, which is why I failed to see any reason for attending these morning meetings. However, the boss didn’t agree. He had just turned to face me when the door to the conference room opened.

  Two police officers stood in the doorway. The receptionist flitted around them, doing her best to get them to leave. But they ignored her, much the same way Heathcliff had the previous night.

  The taller one held out a folded piece of paper. “Lucien Cross,” he said, “we have a warrant for your arrest.”

  “This has to be a joke,” Renner said. “C’mon, Frank, what’s the punchline?” He stared at the shorter cop.

  “Leave it alone, Bennett. This matter doesn’t concern you,” Frank warned.

  “This is Lucien Cross. You must have made a mistake.” Renner moved to stand, but Cross gave him a sharp look. Amusement and annoyance played over Renner’s chiseled features. “What are the charges? Showing the police department what they’re doing wrong?”

  Renner had been a homicide detective, forced off the job due to an injury. After he recovered, Cross hired him as an investigator. That had been four or five years ago. Maybe more. But Renner still knew plenty of cops, including one of the men who’d come to arrest our boss.

  “Murder,” the cop said.

  Cross cocked his head to the side, as if the words rang a bell. “Is the paperwork in order? I’m not going anywhere if it’s not.”

  “See for yourself, sir.” The lead officer held out the warrant, and Cross read it carefully.

  “I’d like to contact my attorney, so he can meet us at the precinct. I’m sure Mr. Almeada will want to contest this.” Cross waited, but the police didn’t give him the go-ahead to remove his phone or make the call.

  “Stand up, Mr. Cross. Keep your hands where we can see them,” Frank said.

  “Kellan, make sure Justin is made aware of the situation and have him contact Mr. Almeada,” Cross instructed.

  “No problem, boss.” Kellan kept his hands on the table. Since most of us were former law enforcement, we knew the drill.

  The lead cop looked around the crowded conference room, realizing most of us were armed. “We don’t want any trouble. We’re just doing our jobs,” the taller cop said.

  “And I was doing mine until you interrupted.” Cross’s expression soured. “We’re in the middle of a meeting. This can’t wait until we’re finished?”

  “Your meeting just ended,” the cop said.

  “Fine. In the meantime, you have your assignments. Everyone, get back to work.” Cross turned to look at me. My eyes had been glued to him since the moment the police announced he was under arrest. “Alex, take the morning to clear your schedule. I need you to handle a case for me. Whatever else you’re working on, finish up or pass it off. Got it?”

  “Is this about the assignment you left for me?”

  “No, this is something else. Understand?”

  “Not at all.”

  He stared at me, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Justin will brief you.”

  “Sir,” the police officer said, growing even more impatient, “stand up.”

  Cross complied, holding his hands out to the sides while they removed the handgun nestled against his hip. Then they waited for him to put his jacket on before turning him around, cuffing him, and walking him out of the conference room.

  “What the hell just happened?” Renner asked.

  Several of the other investigators shrugged, as if things like this occurred every morning, collected their case files, and returned to their offices without another word. Even with Cross gone, they’d do their jobs and follow orders.

  Kellan looked at me. He knew I rarely fell into line like a good soldier, and given the circumstances, I was even less inclined to comply with our boss’s request.

  “Do you know what’s going on?” he asked.

  “Why would I?”

  “You came in this morning asking about Cross. You have friends who are cops. You must know something.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Are you sure?” Kellan asked.

  “Take it easy,” Renner interrupted. “Alex isn’t the enemy. If Cross trusts her, so should we.”

  “Fine.” Kellan gave me a final look and headed for the door.

  “Crazy morning.” Renner pushed his chair beneath the table. “Can you believe they just arrested Lucien for murder? That’s ridiculous.”

  “Is it?” I’d seen the look on Cross’s face. He wasn’t surprised he’d been arrested. The thoughts ran rampant through my mind, processing dozens of scenarios at lightning speed.

  “You think our boss actually killed someone?” Renner asked.

  “I spent the last several minutes observing him. Not once did he deny it. And when the officers told him the charge, he didn’t appear shocked or surprised. He looked resigned. You used to be a homicide detective. What do you think?”

  “I’m going to make some calls and find out what’s going on.” Renner collected the files in front of him and stopped in the doorway. “Do you need me to take over any of your cases? I have some room on my plate.”

  “Can l let you know in a couple of hours?”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  I grabbed my legal pad off the table. “Let me know what you find out from your cop buddies and if I should start the job search. If so, I’d like to do it before the rest of Cross Security snatches up all the best positions.”

&nb
sp; “Aren’t you going to make a few calls yourself?” Renner asked. “You have friends in major crimes. They might know something.”

  “I’m sure they do.” My gut said this tied directly to Heathcliff’s case. That would explain his caginess. But after what just happened, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the details. “Cross has made it abundantly clear he doesn’t like people in his business. I don’t want to piss him off.”

  “Who are you kidding? You piss him off all the time.”

  “This is different.”

  “You realize you’re the only one around here who thinks he’s guilty.”

  “You were a cop. You know how it works. They wouldn’t serve a warrant unless they had evidence.”

  “If Lucien killed someone, he didn’t have a choice. I’m guessing almost every Cross Security employee has killed someone at some point during his or her career. It doesn’t mean any of us should be arrested for murder.”

  “You have a lot more faith in people than I do.”

  Renner studied me closely. “How can you be sure he’s guilty? We don’t have any facts or details. We don’t even know who he’s accused of killing.”

  “I know what guilt looks like. I’ve seen it in the mirror plenty of times, and I saw it on Lucien’s face when the cops handed him the warrant. He did whatever they think he did, and if he didn’t, he sure as hell feels guilty enough not to deny the charges.”

  “Are you sure you’re not projecting? After your last assignment, it’d be natural—”

  “This isn’t about me.”

  Renner held up his palms. “Okay.” But from his tone, he only said it to pacify me.

  I stepped into my office and closed the door. I had a lot to think about. The first thing I did was pull out my phone and call Martin.

  “Hey, beautiful, miss me already?” he asked. “I know I told you to hold on to that thought, but I’m going to need you to wait until tonight.”

  “James, I have to tell you something.”

  “That can’t be good.” His tone shifted. “Is everything okay? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. You might not be. Lucien Cross was just arrested for murder.”

  “What?”