You Belong To Me

by Karen Rose

  He sat back on his heels, studying her as his anger grew even colder. I had a future once, he thought. Nobody thought about me or my family. ‘We? Who’s “we”?’

  She opened her eyes to stare up at him. ‘If I tell you, will you let me live?’

  What a piece of work. ‘No.’

  Her eyes flashed hate. ‘Then go to hell,’ she spat and he smiled.

  ‘That’s what Bennett said. After a few fingers, he changed his tune. So will you.’

  ‘That letter will come out,’ she said desperately. ‘Everyone will know what happened. She was your sister. You’ll be the most likely suspect.’

  ‘I don’t think so. Because I don’t exist anymore.’ He leaned in close, pressed the tip of the knife to the hollow of her throat. ‘Because I’m dead.’

  Monday, May 3, 3.20 P.M.

  Stevie wrinkled her nose. ‘Drew should send a van for this. You reek enough.’

  JD brushed the remnants of trash off his clothes. ‘I got a lot smellier on one of my Narc undercover assignments. I had to play a guy who hadn’t bathed in way too long. This is not that bad.’ He’d found Bennett’s box sandwiched between two larger boxes that had been knocked down flat. ‘I want Drew to get this ASAP. We can put it in the trunk.’

  ‘You’re right. Sooner the better. I’m just glad it’s your car and not mine.’

  At the car, JD popped his trunk. And sighed. ‘I forgot about this.’

  Stevie peered inside at the pile of clothes and sports equipment. ‘What is all this?’ She gave him a measured look. ‘Are you giving Maya’s stuff away?’

  Stevie had been urging JD to deal with his dead wife’s things for a long time. And he had. Mostly. ‘This is all my stuff. Sports equipment, video games. I found it when I was cleaning out my storage unit last weekend. It’s all stuff I packed away before I went into the army. I’m going to donate it, I just haven’t had the chance.’

  ‘You’re donating video games you had before the army?’ She reached in the bag, pulled out a few and laughed. ‘Nobody will want these. They’re ancient.’

  ‘They’re classics,’ he corrected. ‘Vintage. Collectors will pay through the nose.’

  Stevie was looking through the games curiously. ‘They’re all shooting games. No jumping plumbers even.’ She eyed him shrewdly. ‘Did the games prepare you?’

  No, he thought. It was a hell of a lot different to take a bead on a live man than a cartoon. No game had prepared him for what it had been like when his first target’s head exploded. Or his last target, or any of the ones in between. It was real. And horrifying. And it stayed with you. Forever. He put the games back in the bag and answered her original question to change the subject.

  ‘I gave all Maya’s stuff away last year when I put the house up for sale.’

  She nodded, accepting his avoidance. ‘You’ve come a long way, JD.’

  Not really. It had taken a year to stand the thought of anyone else touching his wife’s things, and a year more to give them away. Three years after her death, despite the urging of his friends, there had been no one who made him feel . . . alive.

  Until today, when Lucy had met his eyes and everything changed. ‘I’m moving on.’

  ‘I could see that back in the parking garage,’ she said wryly. ‘Just don’t move on too fast. And roll the car windows down. Please.’

  Monday, May 3, 3.40 P.M.

  ‘Well?’

  Lucy looked up from the CSU lab’s microscope to find Stevie Mazzetti standing in the doorway holding a man’s suit in a dry-cleaning bag. ‘It’s a human heart,’ Lucy said, ‘still mostly frozen. It’s the same blood type as Russ’s. We’ll run the DNA to confirm, but it’s his. Drew’s got the container and is checking for prints, but he’s not hopeful.’

  ‘How was the heart stored?’ Stevie asked.

  ‘Bagged in a generic ziplock bag and shipped in a cheap plastic bowl – like the ones you get takeout soup in.’

  ‘Dime a dozen,’ Stevie said.

  ‘Which is why Drew wasn’t hopeful.’ Lucy tried to keep her eyes on Stevie’s face, but she kept glancing over the woman’s shoulder to the hall beyond.

  Stevie smiled slightly. ‘He’s coming, Doc. Don’t worry.’

  ‘I wasn’t—’

  Stevie interrupted her with a wave. ‘Don’t even try.’ She hung the suit on a hook next to the door and pulled up a stool. She looked straight ahead for a moment, then turned to meet Lucy’s eyes. ‘We’ve been friends for years, JD and I.’

  ‘Then he’s a lucky man,’ Lucy said quietly and Stevie gave that slight smile again.

  ‘He might disagree. JD’s a good guy. He’s had a rough time the last few years.’

  Stevie’s tone held a warning and made part of Lucy want to run away. But she also wanted to know more about JD Fitzpatrick. Curiosity won out. ‘How so?’

  ‘He’s a widower. His wife died in an accident three years ago.’

  That took her by surprise. Somehow he hadn’t seemed like the married type. Not that she was the best judge on that. Russ Bennett, Exhibit A.

  Then Lucy remembered the child’s autopsy, JD’s stoic silence and the tears in his eyes. That had been two years ago. Dread settled on her shoulders. Had he also lost a child in the accident that claimed his wife? Was that why he’d been moved to tears?

  ‘Did they have any children?’

  Stevie looked surprised by the question. ‘No. Maya wasn’t a kid kind of person.’

  ‘Oh.’ So why had he been there that day? Get a spine, Lucy, and ask him yourself.

  Stevie was staring at her intently. ‘He took Maya’s death hard and hasn’t had anyone since. I’ve been telling him to get out there. Meet someone.’

  ‘That’s hard to do after losing someone you love,’ she murmured, thinking of the pictures in her duffle bag. Losing her brother had simply devastated her, changing her life. After losing her first fiancé, she’d had a lot of trouble letting her guard down again, but she had, eventually. Strangely enough, the departure of fiancé number two had been more an inconvenience than a devastation. Still, it had been years until she’d opened her heart again. And that time to Russ Bennett. And that turned out so well.

  Part of her was still terrified. Part of her yearned, though. I’m tired of being alone.

  ‘We all heal at our own pace,’ Stevie said. ‘I might not have said anything at all, but I saw the way he looked at you. And you at him. I wanted you to know he’s a good man, but you could hurt him. So don’t hurt him. Please.’

  ‘Please what?’ Fitzpatrick filled the doorway, carrying a stack of flattened boxes in a clear trash bag. He’d taken off his suit coat and tie, and his white shirt clung to his arms and back, damp with sweat. His dark hair was slicked back and there was a smudge on his cheek. Muscles rippled under the almost transparent shirt as he flexed, trying to maneuver the boxes into the room.

  Lucy tried not to stare, but it was a futile effort. Oh my. Then the odor hit and she started coughing. ‘What is that?’

  Fitzpatrick gave her an annoyed look. ‘You do autopsies all day, yet gag at this?’

  ‘I’m used to eau de corpse,’ she shot back from behind her hand. ‘What is that?’

  ‘A cross-section of the garbage dumpster behind Yee’s Express delivery service,’ Stevie said, her dark eyes twinkling.

  ‘Stevie,’ Drew chided, coming in behind him. ‘You sent him into the dumpster?’

  ‘Hey, he volunteered. Besides, he’s got a change of clothes.’ Stevie pointed to the dry-cleaner bag. ‘I’ve got to go to Cordelia’s graduation tonight with his stink on me.’

  ‘It’ll have dissipated by then,’ Fitzpatrick said. ‘Don’t be a whiner. Where do you want this shit, Drew?’ Drew pointed to an empty corner and they all followed Fitzpatrick as he carefully placed it on the floor.

  ‘I hope it really isn’t shit, Stevie,’ Drew said mildly. ‘Not again.’

  ‘That was bad,’ Stevie agreed. ‘No, this is regulation garbage. The
heart box arrived at the courier’s yesterday in a shipping box that they cut down and threw in the dumpster. After which an entire frat house had pizza and beer and threw the leftovers on top,’ she finished cheerfully, and Lucy had to purse her lips to keep from smiling.

  Fitzpatrick noted her effort and grinned, his dimple appearing beneath the smudge on his cheek. ‘It’s okay. Go ahead and laugh. I imagine you can use it after today.’

  ‘Did you have to bring the whole dumpster?’ she asked, giving in to the smile.

  Fitzpatrick’s eyes flashed dark, sending a now-familiar shiver down her spine. Then he shrugged, breaking the moment. ‘Who knows what might have been in the outer box when it was tossed? I took a few inches above and below, just to be safe.’

  Lucy grimaced. ‘You put that in your car?’

  ‘Hell, I’ve had an addict puke all over my back seat more than once. This trash is clean in comparison.’ He started sorting. ‘Here’s the shipping box, Drew. It was mailed locally, even though the guy claiming to be Bennett also claimed to be out of town. Yee didn’t notice the local postmark. He just saw the return label with Bennett’s name on it.’

  Stevie took two plastic evidence bags from her pocket containing a folded note and a key. ‘I don’t think you’ll get prints except Jimmy and his uncle, but we can try.’

  ‘They’re coming in to get printed for elimination,’ Fitzpatrick said. ‘We told them to ask for you, Drew. Have you gotten anything from Bennett’s condo? Hyatt put Skinner and Morton on the search.’

  ‘So far, a hairbrush and a toothbrush for DNA matching,’ Drew said. ‘I’ve got a team over there too, but from what I hear there were no signs of struggle.’

  Stevie nodded. ‘That’s what Hyatt said. We’re pulling Bennett’s phone records to see who he might have talked to the last day he was seen. The doorman said he got into a cab with only his briefcase, so it’s sounding like he was lured away. We have a status meeting with Hyatt in fifteen. Can you be there, Drew? It shouldn’t take long.’

  ‘I’ll be there.’

  Fitzpatrick rose, brushing dirt from his trousers. ‘Lucy, he wants to talk to you about Bennett. You can go with Stevie. I’m going to shower and change and meet you up there. Do we know anything more about that heart?’

  ‘Only that the blood is the same type as Russ’s, which we expected.’

  Stevie waved Fitzpatrick away. ‘We need to hurry and you still stink. Go clean up.’ She handed him his suit. ‘You’re just lucky the cleaners had this one ready for pickup.’

  ‘See you in fifteen,’ he said and was gone, leaving Lucy to watch his very fine rear end as he rushed away. Ruby had been right that morning. The man did have an amazing butt. A narcotic, she’d called him. JD Fitzpatrick was certainly that.

  Nope, Lucy wasn’t cold anymore.

  Chapter Eight

  Monday, May 3, 4.00 P.M.

  By the time JD got to Hyatt’s office, it was standing room only. But that was mainly because Hyatt kept only one guest chair in his office and JD had learned pretty quickly that one sat in the chair only when one was invited. Usually only the brass was invited.

  JD wasn’t sure if Hyatt kept them standing to keep them in their place or if he held to the belief that standing meetings were short meetings. The bald man achieved both.

  ‘Close the door, Detective,’ Hyatt said formally. ‘We’ve been waiting for you.’

  JD wanted to roll his eyes. He was exactly on time, to the second. He’d hurried not to impress Hyatt, but because he’d wanted to get back to Lucy.

  She’d smiled at him back in Drew’s office, a quick, unfettered smile that had lit up her face and stopped his heart. Something about her had changed in the hour between the garage and the CSU lab. He didn’t know what had happened and wasn’t sure he cared. At that moment it had been all he could do not to reach for her, but they’d been at work and he’d been covered in dumpster filth.

  He closed Hyatt’s door and instantly felt the chill. Something was up. Stevie and Drew were there, along with Elizabeth Morton and Phil Skinner, the other detectives assigned to the case.

  To his surprise, Lucy sat in Hyatt’s extra chair, turned around to face the group. At her side was ADA Daphne Montgomery, who JD hadn’t yet met in person, but had spoken to on the phone. Daphne was forty-ish, with big blond hair and a hot pink suit with a short skirt that showed off a magnificent pair of legs. Rumor had it that she’d been a Vegas showgirl back in the day, and Daphne hadn’t done anything to quell the mill. JD liked her a lot. Daphne was an optimist in a land of career pessimists.

  But at the moment Daphne wore a frown, her hand on Lucy’s shoulder almost protectively, sending the hackles on the back of JD’s neck straight up. Hyatt sat behind his desk like a drill sergeant, revealing nothing. Her expression shuttered, Lucy met JD’s eyes, seeking answers he didn’t have.

  ‘What’s going on?’ JD asked Hyatt quietly. ‘I thought you wanted to ask Dr Trask a few questions about Dr Bennett.’

  ‘I do,’ Hyatt said. ‘Just not the ones you think.’

  JD opened his mouth to protest, but Stevie cut off him with a sharp warning glance and a shake of her head. JD folded his arms across his chest, not liking this a bit.

  Hyatt noted the silent exchange, then stood. Now only Lucy sat and she was looking increasingly pissed. JD could relate. Hyatt was known for grandstanding, and there was little doubt that that was where this was headed.

  ‘Lieutenant Hyatt,’ Lucy said, her voice level but tight. ‘I was under the impression that I’d been cleared of suspicion in Russell Bennett’s murder.’

  ‘Your alibi checked out. But given that my detectives have requested your presence at the notification of a victim’s family, I thought I should know more about you.’ He lifted an arrogant brow. ‘It seems you’ve been keeping secrets, Dr Trask.’

  JD thought he saw her eyes flicker, but it was over so quickly he couldn’t be sure.

  ‘I have not, Lieutenant,’ she said coolly. ‘I was candid with your detectives. I told them that I’d dated the victim for a short time and that I’d broken his nose.’

  Hyatt nodded. ‘Five years ago, true. I’m talking about further back than that. Try August, fourteen years ago.’

  Her eyes didn’t flicker this time. They flashed in shocked fury before she quickly reined herself in. ‘I have nothing to hide, Lieutenant.’

  ‘I should think not,’ Hyatt said dryly. ‘It took Detectives Morton and Skinner less than an hour to dig it up. Ms Montgomery found the court records faster than that.’

  Daphne Montgomery’s jaw tightened while Morton briefly closed her eyes and Skinner shook his head, a slight movement that made JD realize that whatever this was about, they hadn’t meant for it to go down this way.

  Lucy lifted her empty hands before folding them in her lap, the gesture one of contempt. ‘Then you know it all. Anything I’d provide would be . . . simply extraneous.’

  Hyatt sat on the edge of his desk close to Lucy, deliberately crowding her space. ‘Humor me,’ he said. ‘What happened, in your own words?’

  She met Hyatt’s gaze head-on. Her voice was calm, but her hands clenched tightly in her lap. ‘I was arrested, charged, tried before a jury of my peers, and acquitted. The charges were then dropped, my record expunged.’

  JD looked to Stevie and saw she was as stunned as he was, but Hyatt appeared unsurprised, his mouth curving in a half-smile of appreciation. ‘Succinctly delivered, Doctor,’ he said. ‘But I’d like a little more meat with my bones.’

  ‘I owe you no explanations,’ Lucy said coldly. ‘May I leave?’

  ‘You could, but I don’t think you’ll want to,’ Hyatt said. ‘It was an accident, right?’

  She nodded, tight-lipped. ‘Lieutenant, I—’

  ‘Your fiancé was killed,’ Hyatt interrupted, ‘was he not?’

  She’d been engaged. Of course she’d had relationships, so had he. He’d been married, for God’s sake. Still, it left JD unsettled to t
hink of her so attached. Her fiancé’s death still caused her pain. It was plain on her face before she closed her eyes, recovering her composure.

  ‘He was.’ Then she opened her eyes and they were empty. ‘This has no bearing on anything related to this case or to any of you. I’ve had a very long day. I’m leaving now.’ She rose, but Daphne pressed her back into the chair.

  ‘Lucy, the lieutenant’s approach is vile.’ Daphne looked straight at Hyatt as she said the words, making JD want to cheer. ‘But you need to stay, sugar. And Peter, you need to get to the goddamn point.’

  Hyatt’s glare was annoyed. ‘Thank you, Miss Montgomery.’ He blew out a frustrated breath. ‘Tell me what happened, Dr Trask. If you truly have nothing to hide.’

  Once again Lucy’s eyes flashed as she battled for control. ‘Fine. But I will not sit here like I’m in the defendant’s chair. Been there, done that.’ She stood, straightened her skirt, and walked to the window before turning to face them. ‘I was with my fiancé. I’d had a glass of wine, he’d had way more. I tried to get his keys, he pushed me out of the car. A minute later I heard a crash, ran to the scene. He’d been thrown from his convertible and was already dead, but he’d hit another car.’

  ‘In which two people were hurt,’ Daphne supplied softly.

  Lucy’s nod was stiff. ‘Yes. A mother and her child. The mother was critically injured, the child bruised, but strapped in a car seat and therefore alive. I went for help, but through a misunderstanding was accused of being the driver. I was charged with vehicular homicide of my fiancé. The evidence supported my assertion that I was not in the car at the time. I was cleared.’ She drew a breath. ‘That is all.’

  Hyatt’s smile was wry. ‘I don’t think so, but we’ll leave it at that for now. For the record, I had no intention of making you feel like you’d been seated in the defendant’s chair. As you noted, you’ve had a long day. I was trying to be nice.’