Laurel Heights 3

by Lisa Worrall

  Scott laughed out loud and settled back in his seat, watching the people going about their lives as they drove by. Couples strolling hand in hand, children laughing, the sound of tooting horns filling the air. He envied them.

  He couldn’t remember the last time they’d had that luxury. To just be. To exist in a moment where there was only each other. Of course, the sex was fantastic, they still managed to find time for that, even if it was a quickie at the crack of dawn. But actual time together outside of work was where they were seriously lacking. By the time they fell into bed, they barely had time to say goodnight before one or both were asleep.

  They’d talked about a vacation, but something always seemed to get in the way. Too big a caseload, too much to do on the house, too much… life, just not enough time to really live it. Scott ran his fingers through his hair as Will steered the car to a stop outside the Petersen house. He sincerely doubted, while Tristan Petersen was choking on his own blood, his last thought had been that he should’ve spent more time at the office. When this case is over, maybe we should look at some broch—

  “Ready?”

  “Hmm?” Scott looked at Will blankly, his thoughts occupied by visions of Will in a deserted cove, his naked skin a burnished gold against the white of the sand.

  “We’re here.” Will frowned, his gaze quizzical. “Where were you?”

  “On a beach with a Mai Tai in one hand and you in the other,” Scott replied, unbuckling his seat belt then opening the door. “C’mon.”

  “A Mai Tai?” Will said, following suit. He caught up with Scott at the front door to the Petersen home. “That is a story I need to hear the end of.”

  “Later,” Scott promised, showing his badge to the officer who had been posted outside the property. “Hey,” he glanced at the man’s badge, “Pendleton. We’re just going to look around before the clean-up crew makes it all shiny again.”

  Pendleton shook his head. “No problem, sir. They won’t be here for another hour or so. The captain didn’t want anyone stomping all over the crime scene, so he asked me to wait.”

  “Thanks.” Scott tucked his wallet back into the inside pocket of his suit jacket. “We won’t be long,” he motioned to the squad car parked at the curb, “take a coffee break.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Pendleton headed down the path and Scott followed Will into the house, closing the door behind him.

  The desk in the study was still in disarray, the blood stain a burgundy abstract on the Persian rug in front of the fireplace. He shook his head. The clean-up guys were good but the only place that rug was going was the nearest bonfire. It was a shame, that rug would’ve looked great in their living-room, if they cut it—

  “No,” Will said firmly.

  “What?”

  “No.”

  “You don’t even know what I was thinking.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “But—”

  “You take the desk,” Will said, dismissing everything Scott said with a cold glare. “I’ll have a look in the bureau.”

  Scott took a pair of gloves out of his jacket pocket and pulled them on. He picked up the papers strewn across the desk and shuffled them together, knocking the bottom and side edges on the mahogany surface until they were in a neat A4 pile. He inwardly cursed as he realized what he was doing. He’d obviously been living with Will “hospital corners” Harrison for far too long. He flicked through the paperwork; utility bills, invoices, insurance, the standard everyday crap found in everyday households. Scott frowned. What the hell was she looking for? What could possibly interest her about receipts for—a rental agreement? Scott pulled the document out of the pile and read it.

  “Will?”

  “Yeah?” Will strode across the room toward him. “What’s that?”

  “A rental agreement for an apartment in Greenwich,” Scott replied, looking up at his partner. “Petersen worked a ten-minute drive from here. What the hell would he be doing with an apartment in the village?”

  “And a three thousand dollar a month apartment at that,” Will said with a shrug of his shoulders. He plucked the paper from Scott’s fingers. “I didn’t realize bank managers made that much, maybe we’re in the wrong job.”

  Scott stood up and pulled off his gloves, stuffing them back into his pocket. “Let’s get back to the station and find out.”

  When they opened the front door, Pendleton had resumed sentry duty on the doorstep and Scott gave him a sympathetic nod as he closed the door behind them, grinning to himself as he followed Will down the path to the car. He’d been on a few crap details of his own when he was a rookie and he couldn’t imagine Pendleton was any more thrilled right now than he’d been during his time of standing on doorsteps.

  In the car, Scott fastened his seatbelt then punched a few numbers into his cell. By the time Will had turned the car around Lieberman had answered. Scott put it on speaker.

  “Hey, Noah. Can you—?”

  “Scott, hi. How are you?”

  “I’m good thanks.” Scott tried not to cringe at the undisguised delight in Noah’s voice, while ignoring Will’s not so subtle snort beside him. “Listen, I want you to run a check on an address for me.”

  “Sure. What’s the address?”

  “75 Thompson Street, in the village. I want to know who owns the building, how long Petersen has been a tenant, the color of the drapes, everything.”

  “Got it.” Noah paused. “Are you going to be long?”

  “We’re on our way back now, why?”

  “There’s someone waiting for you.”

  “Who?”

  “She wouldn’t give her name, just said she had to speak to you.”

  Scott frowned. “What about?”

  “Sorry, Scott,” Noah replied. “She wouldn’t say. I suggested she come back, but she said she wasn’t leaving until she’d seen you.”

  “Okay.” Scott scrubbed a hand through his hair. “We won’t be long.” He ended the call and tossed his cell onto the dash.

  “What was that about?” Will asked, stopping at a red light.

  “Search me,” Scott replied with a shrug.

  “Later.” Will tipped him a lascivious wink as the lights turned green and he drove on.

  Scott laughed out loud. “Is that before or after you fall asleep in the shower?”

  “Probably around the time you manage to stay awake for an entire blow job,” Will shot back.

  “That was one ti—” Scott rolled his eyes as Will’s deep-throated laugh echoed around the cab. “Just drive.”

  “So,” Will said, after he’d regained his composure. “Mistress in the village? Audrey finds out and kills him in a fit of rage?”

  “As you know, jealousy’s one hell of a motive.” Scott unbuckled his seatbelt as Will steered the car into the station parking lot and picked up his cell.

  “Believe me, I am not jealous of Lieberman,” Will scoffed.

  “I was talking about Kelly.” Scott quickly threw open the passenger door and got out as Will cursed loudly. He’d already pushed the button to call the elevator when Will caught up with him. The elevator doors opened, and they stepped inside.

  “May I remind you,” Will said, crossing his arms. “That I was not the only one who got their panties in a bunch over Kelly?”

  “Touché.” Scott had to give him that one. Kelly had played them off against each other rather spectacularly. He did it so well that he had Will believing he was after Scott and Scott thinking he was making a play for Will, but he wasn’t interested in either of them. It was an elaborate ploy to disguise the fact that he was having an affair with their very own, supposedly straight, Captain Hall. His cell beeped in his pocket and he took it out, opening the message with a swipe of his finger. “Jeannie’s emailing the report over now,” he said as the elevator ground to a halt and the doors opened.

  “Okay,” Will replied, as they stepped out of the elevator together. “I’ll find out what time the hospital is going to release
Audrey and Christopher.” He sighed heavily, brushing shoulders with Scott as they walked.

  “What?” Scott prompted.

  “I feel bad for the kid, you know?” Will grabbed the door to the department and held it open as one of the secretaries walked out with her arms full of files. “His dad’s dead and now we’re probably going to make him an orphan.”

  “I know.” Scott nodded to the secretary, then nudged Will in the side as he squeezed past him into the room. “He seems like a good kid. It sucks. It really, really su—” The word was cut off on a rush of breath, as though the air had been knocked out of him by a punch to the solar plexus. But there was no punch, just the woman waiting on a chair beside his desk, her hands folded in her lap.

  No.

  Will stopped beside him, a mixture of confusion and concern on his face. “Scott?” he glanced at the woman, putting his hand on Scott’s arm. “What’s wrong?”

  When Will said his name, the woman stood up, a hesitant smile playing on her lips, her fingers suddenly clenched so tight around each other that Scott could see the white of her knuckles stark against her honey-gold skin. Scott couldn’t take his eyes off her. His heartbeat so loud in his own head he was sure everyone could hear it, and the blood rushing in his ears made it sound as though Will were a thousand miles away. Mouth as dry as the proverbial, Scott tried to swallow but he couldn’t get past the massive lump in his throat.

  How—? Why—?

  Scott couldn’t think. A rush of so many different emotions slammed into him from every direction, and all he could do was stand there like an idiot, his basic motor skills having deserted him. He’d dreamt of this moment so many times, imagined what he would do, what he would say when he finally looked her in the eye. Now that the moment was here, he couldn’t remember a single thing.

  “Scott?” Will’s tone was a little tighter, highlighting his growing concern.

  Who is she?

  Scott finally managed to shift his gaze from her to Will, to the man who knew him better than he knew himself—until now.

  “Scott?”

  “She’s my sister.”

  Chapter four

  “But you don’t have a sister.”

  It sounded lame, even to Will, and he was the one who said it. For a split second he wondered if Scott was playing him per usual. Like the time there was a coked-up hooker downstairs waiting to be booked and Scott said, “I didn’t think my Aunt Rita was working tonight.” The pain in Scott’s gaze, however, told Will nothing about this was funny. Will stared back at him in disbelief. His brain desperately tried to come up with something other than the obvious and failed dismally. “Oh, my God. You have a sister.”

  “Will—”

  “You—” The initial shock quickly dissipated as it was trampled by hurt, betrayal and deceit, suddenly giving Will’s tongue a new lease of life. “Wow,” he said, keeping his voice low so only Scott could hear. Sarcasm dripped from the word and those that followed. “Don’t I feel stupid? All this time, here was I thinking you were an only child.”

  “Will—”

  “Where are your manners, honey? Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

  Will didn’t give Scott time to respond. He turned on his heel and strode purposefully toward the wom—he corrected himself, resisting the urge to laugh out loud at the sheer absurdity of it. She was no longer the, air-quotes, woman, she was Scott’s sister. His sister? What the fuck? Will pushed the thoughts down, he didn’t have time for them now, he was finally getting to meet the in-laws. He heard Scott call his name, but ignored him, holding out his hand to her as he stopped in front of her.

  “Hi,” Will said politely, shaking the hand that she hesitantly slipped into his. “I’m Will Harrison, Detective Turner’s partner.” He held onto her hand for longer than he maybe should have as his gaze slid over the planes of her face, searching for a family resemblance. He swallowed hard as Scott’s eyes stared back at him from another face. She had his high cheekbones and the same dimple in her cheek, too. He would have had to be blind not to see they were related. Will dropped her hand when she cleared her throat and began to shift her weight nervously from one foot to the other. “And you’re…?”

  “Alison,” she replied, her gaze flitting between him and Scott. “Ally, Ally Stiles.” She motioned to her left and, for the first time since his world had been knocked on his ass, Will noticed the striking black man beside her. “This is my husband, Matt.”

  Matt shook Will’s hand firmly. “Hi, nice to meet you.” He nodded at Scott and said softly, “Hey, buddy.”

  Will’s gaze widened. Buddy? So, everybody knew everybody else. How cozy. He was beginning to feel quite the wallflower. The knot of anxiety in the pit of his stomach tightened, and he grimaced at the acidic taste of bile as it burned in the back of his throat. He looked at Scott and was startled to find that anger had replaced the pain in Scott’s darkened gaze. Why would he be ang—? Scratch that. Scott was furious. Will frowned, even more confused than he was already and involuntarily took a step closer to him. What the hell? Scott looked as though he wanted to kill her. He reached out and put a hand on Scott’s arm, but from the lack of reaction, he didn’t think Scott felt it. All his attention was on his sister. The silence between them deafening. Ally was the one who broke it first.

  “Sco—”

  “Get out.”

  Will blinked at the venom in the two words Scott directed at her and felt for her when she flinched in response. The gentleman in him wanted to admonish Scott, but he was all too aware of the prying eyes of their colleagues, including Noah, who watched with fascination at the scene unfolding in front of them.

  “Um, let’s take this somewhere a little more private,” Will said, as he tightened his grip on Scott’s arm and motioned for Ally and Matt to follow him. Ally nodded and picked up her purse from beside the chair. Getting Scott to comply wasn’t so easy. Will had to practically drag his ass into the vacant interview room, where Scott stood in the corner, like a petulant child. Will closed the door behind Ally and Matt, then disconnected the video camera up on the wall. He nodded toward the two chairs at the far side of the table, but they’d barely sat down before Scott growled at them.

  “Why are you here?”

  Ally looked at Matt, who took her hand and held it between both of his. Will noted the way Matt leaned into her, a sign of protection. He liked that.

  “Why are you here?” Scott repeated.

  Ally pushed her long dark hair back from her face. Will couldn’t help but notice the way her fingers shook as they tangled within the thick strands. She’s even got his hair. Or does he have hers? What the hell do I know? Not much, apparently.

  “I need your help,” she replied, her voice a lot stronger than she looked.

  “You need my help?” Scott snapped. “Seriously?” He shook his head. “I don’t know whether to laugh in your face or punch it.”

  “Hey!” Matt jumped to his wife’s defense immediately.

  “Scott!” As did Will. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Scott glared at Will. “This has nothing to do with you.” His gaze shifted to Matt. “Or you.”

  “It has everything to do with me,” Matt shot back.

  “And until ten minutes ago,” Will interjected. “I thought I had a little something to do with everything!” His voice rose on the last word and if it cracked a little, he didn’t give a shit.

  “Do you have any idea what it took for her to come here?” Matt yelled angrily.

  “There’s the door!” Scott exclaimed.

  “I told her you couldn’t be reasonable!” Matt jabbed a finger at Scott.

  “Reasonable?” Scott threw up his arms. “I can’t be reasonable? Are you fucking kidding m—?”

  “Shut up!” Considering her nervous demeanor, Ally had quite the pair of lungs on her, and it was enough to shock Matt and Scott into silence. “Please,” quieter, but nonetheless forceful, “just shut up.” Will flashed her what
he hoped was a reassuring smile and took a seat opposite her.

  “I second that,” Will said, pulling out the chair beside him. “Sit.” He raised an eyebrow at Scott, daring him to refuse. “Both of you.” For a moment he thought Scott was going to storm out, but after the what felt like the longest sixty seconds in history, Scott all but threw himself into the seat, his knee bumping into the leg of the table as he did so. Will got a brief sense of satisfaction at Scott’s obvious pain, but he didn’t want to delve too deeply into the reason for that right now. He waited for Matt to settle into his own chair next to Ally then squared his shoulders, pinning them one by one with his frustrated gaze as he spoke. “I get the feeling there are some issues here—”

  “Some—?”

  “It was rhetorical.” Will ignored the temptation to lift his gaze heavenward as Scott crossed his arms with a barely disguised hiss from between gritted teeth. “You said you needed help?” He directed the question at Ally.

  “I’m not interest in anything she’s got to say.” Scott pushed his chair back and stood up.

  “Do you really want to fuck with me right now, Turner?” Will’s hold on his self-control was extremely tenuous, the intimation of his statement obviously received loud and clear, because Scott swiftly sat back down. “Ally?”

  “Believe me,” she began, glancing at her brother. “I wouldn’t be here if I had a choice, but people are dead.”

  “Yeah,” Scott replied. “They’re called Mom and Dad.”

  “Rachael Mackenzie and Jack Burns,” Ally said calmly as if Scott hadn’t spoken.

  Will saw the flicker of recognition in Scott’s eyes at the names, so he obviously knew who Ally was talking about.

  Scott leaned back in the chair and narrowed his gaze. “What about them?”

  “They’re dead.”

  “How?”

  “Drug overdose.”

  Scott shrugged. “What does that have to do with me?”

  “You work in homicide, don’t you?”

  “Drug overdoses are not homicides.”

  “They are if someone else is holding the syringe.”