Exposing a Killer

by Laurie Alice Eakes

  And her calling wasn’t to hide. If she truly wanted to hide from the world, she would have sheltered herself inside the overblown halls of some corporate law firm helping big, soulless companies grow even bigger.

  “I can’t think right now. I need to—” She trailed off as the sergeant from the night before strode into the lobby and straight to them.

  Jack rose. “Afternoon, sir.”

  Respectful but cold. Jack didn’t like this man for more reasons than his desire to take over guardianship of Grace.

  The two men shook hands, appearing as though they were having a gripping contest rather than a friendly greeting.

  Grace didn’t move, said nothing.

  Megan arched her brows and nudged Amber. “What’s up here?” she whispered.

  Amber shrugged. “Someone just turned off the heat, that’s for sure.”

  “Turned it up, more likely.” Grace struggled to her feet. “Hi, Uncle Dave. Nice of you two to offer me a place to stay for a few days.”

  “Your aunt is home getting everything set up just right for you. You’ll have a real bedroom and your own TV—”

  “I need some things from home, like my computer,” Grace interrupted.

  Megan guessed why she had been so rude. Jack’s lips had compressed into a hard, thin line, tight enough for a white line to show around them, and the tips of his ears burned. Anger? Embarrassment?

  “You can’t go home. I don’t think it’s safe.” His tone was as tight as his face.

  Anger. Embarrassment, or perhaps simple anxiety for his sister’s safety.

  “Someone tampered with our meter,” Jack continued.

  Another volley of exclamations and recriminations erupted. Luskie sent someone scurrying with orders to do something. Grace accused Jack of treating her like a child who couldn’t know the truth. Jack said nothing until the room fell silent.

  Megan also decided to run interference. “Thank you for coming, sir.” She rose and held out her hand. “Will I get my car back?”

  “Eventually.” Sergeant Luskie shook Megan’s hand with the right amount of firmness. “Forensics will go over it first, but I doubt we’ll find anything. We haven’t found anything anywhere else.” He shot a glare at Jack. “Nothing on that video that identifies anyone clearly enough for facial recognition software to match him with anyone. We can’t get a warrant to check the Cahill residence without some kind of probable cause.”

  “So you think this is all nothing, too?” Jack demanded.

  His uncle shrugged. “Someone did steal Miss O’Clare’s car. We can’t rule that out.”

  “And parked it in front of our house,” Grace added. “I saw it myself. It sat there running forever.”

  “With no one in it,” the sergeant said.

  “Why?” Megan asked. “Surely they were thinking something besides a mere warning.”

  “Checking the place out.” Jack looked pale. “Or they didn’t make a move because Grace was there. Or they hoped whatever they did to the meter would finish the job, and they wanted you to know who was behind the attack.”

  “Some criminals will stop at hurting children.” Luskie picked up the purple backpack. “This yours, Grace? We need to get going.”

  “Yes, sir.” Grace sighed.

  She smiled warmly at Megan and Amber, patted Tess on the head with an embarrassed “Couldn’t resist those big brown eyes,” by way of apology, then held her arms out to her brother. “Take care of yourself.”

  “I will.” Jack hugged her back, leaning down so she could whisper something in his ear.

  He nodded, returned some remarks to her, then straightened. “Keep her safe, sir.” He watched them all the way to the door and as far as they showed through the plate glass window. Not until the tall man and small young woman disappeared from view did he turn his attention to Megan and Amber. “Can we go to your house to talk? This isn’t the place.”

  “And we have good coffee.” Amber wrinkled her nose. “Whatever they’re serving here can’t be healthy.”

  “If any coffee is healthy,” Megan said. “Not that I should talk, when I drink the stuff like other people drink water.”

  “Same here.” Jack strode forward and held the door open for Megan and Amber.

  They made their way to the nearest L station, noting how cold the weather had grown. Cold and cloudy, as though maybe they would get snow in October. Not unheard of.

  Megan rubbed her arms inside her lightweight jacket. She would have to get out a winter coat if the temperature dropped further. Where she stood, several floors above the street and within a mile from the lake, the wind held an edge.

  Beside her, Tess raised her muzzle and sniffed the east breeze.

  “What is it?” Amber asked. “Smell rain or snow?”

  “Careful using that word.” Jack zipped the front of his hoodie. “I’m not ready for winter.”

  “This is the Midwest,” Megan said. “I’m ready for winter from the middle of September. I mean, look at Tess. She’s had her winter coat since the end of August.”

  “Virginia will be warmer,” Amber put in. “Congratulations on getting accepted into the academy, by the way.”

  “Thanks. I was supposed to go a year ago.” The train arrived. In the middle of the afternoon, seats were plentiful. Amber and Megan shared a forward facing one, and Jack sat behind them, continuing his story. “Then Grace had her accident, so I postponed it.”

  “Will she stay with your uncle while you’re gone?” Megan asked.

  “No.” The single word was delivered in an explosive, decided burst.

  Megan wasn’t about to ask him what the problem was. He could tell her in his own time or not. It was none of her business. She didn’t even want it to be her business. She had enough family issues of her own to manage.

  Especially when someone in her family saw the pictures of her office bursting with firemen in the newspaper or maybe even on the news. Probably just the paper. They weren’t important enough for the TV news unless some enterprising reporter figured out who she was—an O’Clare of North Point.

  Megan asked about Grace’s accident, since Jack had brought it up. He explained about the van rolling over, overcrowded so Grace wore no seat belt. She’d been trapped beneath the van seats, her body twisted and broken.

  “Her recovery is astounding,” he concluded. “And she improves all the time.”

  “But steps are out of the question?” Megan asked.

  “She can manage one or two, but not a whole flight. My house is two stories with only a living room, dining room, and kitchen on the first floor, so I made her bedroom in the living room.”

  The reason why their uncle had made that dig about Grace having a real room to herself.

  Megan shook her head. She was used to competition between brothers and sisters, but not between uncles and nephews.

  She wanted to say something to prompt a confidence from Jack, but drops spattering against the window of the L train distracted her.

  “So much for no rain in the forecast,” she grumbled. “Does anyone have an umbrella?”

  None of them did. They descended from the L platform on steps growing wet with the increasingly thickening rain. Tess paused to shake, then put her head down and began trotting toward home. The rest of them followed suit, minus the shake. Heads down, they charged along the sidewalk, shoes and jackets soaking through. By the time they reached her building, Megan’s hands were so cold she could barely get the key in the lock. She dropped it twice. Jack retrieved it both times and stuck it in the lock the second time. The door swung open to a puff of warm air smelling of old wood and fresh paint.

  “Be ready to climb,” Megan said, heading up the steps. “I make this trip several times a day. It lets me eat ice cream when I want to.”

  And Jack’s sister never could have go
tten as far as the second floor.

  She loved her apartment but found herself wondering if she should move into a building with an elevator so Grace could visit her.

  Which was a ridiculous idea. She would probably never see Grace again.

  At that moment, reaching her apartment door, she wondered if maybe she should move into a building with an elevator anyway and run more miles on the days she took the time for a jog or went to the gym. Every muscle in her body trembled as though she had used up that day’s reserve of energy and was borrowing from the next day’s to keep going.

  Behind her, Amber and Jack didn’t appear much different. Only Tess seemed undaunted by the day’s excitement—exertions. She shook with vigor, spraying all of them, even though they were already soaked.

  “Towel,” Amber said.

  She allowed Tess to guide her through the door Megan opened for them and headed straight for the laundry room and the stack of faded and frayed towels they left on a shelf especially for the purpose of drying off the dog.

  “I think I need one, too.” Jack stood on the welcome mat, water dripping from his jacket and hair and the tip of his nose. Megan experienced the oddest impulse to brush those drops off his face.

  She suppressed it and headed to the linen closet. “You get a human towel.”

  She exchanged the towel for his drenched jacket. His shirt was damp beneath, but the jacket seemed well-waterproofed.

  “You can leave your shoes by the door and come into the living room. We have a gas fireplace.”

  “Nice place,” Jack said.

  “I fell in love with it the first time I ever saw it.” Megan busied herself dusting off the top of the fireplace and flipping the switch. With a whoosh, the flame ignited around the artificial logs. “I could never afford it without a roommate. And it’s cheaper than it looks because we are half a mile from the L and you have to walk up a gazillion steps to get here.”

  “Nice view.” Jack stood at the French doors leading to the balcony.

  “It’s a beautiful city.” Megan joined him. “If you lean out far enough over the railing, you can see the lake. When I have enough time to get there, I like to run on the lake path. Being near the water invigorates me.”

  “Me, too. It kind of renews my spirit when I’m flagging.”

  They exchanged an understanding smile.

  Something inside Megan shifted, coiled in a way that would have been tension if it hadn’t felt warm.

  Speaking of warmth...

  “Have a seat by the fire and dry off.” She indicated the sofa closest to the radiating fireplace. “I’ll get some coffee, unless you’d prefer tea or cocoa.”

  “Coffee’s good. Thanks.” He settled on the sofa.

  It looked half its original size with him seated there instead of her or Amber, the ruffled and beaded throw pillows Amber loved making him look like a giant dropped into a princess’s palace.

  Grinning to herself, Megan trotted to her room to change out of her soaked clothes, not having had on as sensible a hoodie as Jack, and then walked into the kitchen. Amber was already there, having changed into dry clothes herself, and scooping ground coffee into the filter.

  “Did you leave him with the fire?” Amber asked.

  “I did.” Megan took milk from the refrigerator to heat. “He looks exhausted.”

  “I don’t think he got any sleep last night. I mean, by the time he got to the southside and back here, he didn’t have time.” Amber pulled mugs from the cabinet over the coffee maker. “Do you like him?”

  “What a silly question. I don’t know him.”

  “Hmm.” Amber grinned and glanced toward Tess, who was sidling up to the table, where a few toast crumbs had landed on the floor earlier. “Go lie down, Tess.”

  Tess halted as though she had brakes, cast Amber a guilty look, and padded from the room on soft, furry paws.

  Megan laughed. “The look on her face. She can never figure out how you know what she’s up to.”

  “She forgets I can hear her. What is it this time, crumbs?”

  “From breakfast. I’ll get the broom. No sense tempting the poor thing.”

  Megan swept the kitchen floor, thinking she needed to be a better housekeeper or get one of those robot vacuums. Though Amber brushed her every day, Tess shed like crazy. Plus, Megan tended to leave notes to herself scattered over every surface, and Amber was good at cooking, but not necessarily at cleaning up afterward.

  By the time she finished sweeping, the coffee maker had beeped. She set it and warm milk and sugar on a tray. Amber followed with another tray of cups, and they headed for the living room. “Shh.” She halted herself and Amber in the doorway.

  Across the room, Jack slumped in the corner of the sofa, Tess sprawled across his feet like a pair of giant, fuzzy slippers. Neither of them moved at Megan and Amber’s approach.

  “They’re asleep,” Megan murmured.

  “Then let’s leave them.” Amber turned back to the kitchen.

  They went into the sunroom they used as a home office and turned on the space heaters beneath their desks. “I have a thousand phone calls to make,” Megan said. She set her phone on the charger and popped a set of Bluetooth headphones with a mic over her ears.

  She hadn’t yet heard from Gary or his wife, Janet, and that concerned her. Maybe he was hurt worse than she had at first thought. She dialed her phone to try to reach Janet, but just reached the voice mail. She’d have to try again later.

  Megan had been a licensed PI for three years, and still felt incompetent at handling her own life at times. Her work was her life. Other than running along the lake, she did nothing much else for fun. She worked. Even at home she worked. Her desk was a testimony to that. All that was missing was her laptop.

  She had made a dozen phone calls and felt as though she had left two dozen voicemail messages. Insurance company. Arranging for copies of police reports on her car and computer having been stolen and for copies of the fire report so she could make insurance claims. Cleaning up and inspecting the office.

  She wished she were curled up on the sofa across from Jack and napping by the fire herself.

  “Why do I think I can run the office?” she asked aloud. “I can’t think which phone call I should follow up on first. Doesn’t anyone return messages these days?”

  “What are they?” Amber popped up the lid of her laptop.

  “Enter your password,” a synthesized female voice that wasn’t at all monotone said.

  “I can help make some of them, I’m sure.” Amber plugged in her own headphones and began to type twice as fast as Megan could. “Like all the things having to do with the office and insurance. It’s my job, after all.”

  “I know, but...” Megan began to write on a sticky note. “I want to be the boss. That means it’s all my responsibility.”

  “Gary never did everything on his own. He had Janet until she decided she wanted to retire and they hired me.” Amber cast Megan a warm smile. “I like my job. I’m not about to leave you. And you can always ask Jack to stay and help.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Megan said a little sharper than she intended. “He has big things going for his future. After this week, he’ll want out of here as fast as he can get.”

  And leave her behind?

  The idea made Megan feel a little queasy and definitely sad for reasons she wasn’t about to examine. She couldn’t consider being attracted to a man who was leaving town soon, not when she was trying to stay alive.

  * * *

  Jack woke feeling oddly refreshed for having slept only three hours in the past thirty-six and having a slightly stiff neck from slumping in the corner of a sofa. His feet were nearly too warm beneath a furry weight, and someone had laid a fluffy blanket over him.

  The furry weight must have been watching him, for the moment Jack ope
ned his eyes, the golden retriever leaped to her feet and began to lavish him with puppy kisses, tail wagging dangerously close to the gas fireplace someone had turned to low.

  “Tess, no,” a soft voice called from the doorway.

  “It’s all right,” Jack said. “I’m awake.”

  “I hope she didn’t wake you.” Amber came into the room patting her leg. “Tess, come.”

  The dog raced across the room to take up position beside her person.

  “Good girl.” Amber rubbed the furry ears, then glanced to Jack. “Do you need coffee now?”

  “I should go home. I didn’t mean to sleep.” At the sight of Megan coming down the hallway behind Amber, Jack felt heat rise into his face. “Your couch is too comfortable.”

  “We know.” Megan’s smile was warm. “But you can’t go home. We have work to do.” Her cheeks reddened, as well. “I mean, you can’t go home yet. It’s not like we’re holding you hostage or anything.”

  Jack grinned at her. “I thought maybe I’d outlived my welcome.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so.” Amber winked and turned sideways to move around Megan. “I’m ordering pizza. Food always makes work go faster. Chicago-style?”

  “Is there anything else worth eating?” Jack rose, muscles tightening the longer he remained in one position. “Mind if I get some fresh air on your balcony?”

  “Of course not.” For a moment, Megan looked as though she might join him, then she murmured something about helping Amber and retreated.

  Jack stepped into air far colder than it had been that morning, though the rain had stopped. Someone nearby had a wood-burning fireplace they’d started up to scent the air. In the street, bicyclists vied with cars for the right of way. Shouts and honking horns seemed a long way down.

  They were a long way down. At least forty feet. Jack tested the railing for security. It was solid and a good four feet high.

  Awake and sure the sooner he and Megan figured out what they should do next, the better, he returned to the apartment and found Megan setting the table in the dining room.