by Karen Rose
She lifted her hips against him and felt him grow hard again. ‘I had a right to be.’
His eyes darkened as new need filled them. ‘Are you sure you can again?’
She closed her eyes as he began to move. ‘You said best two out of three.’
Tuesday, May 4, 10.55 P.M.
‘I think we should make it best three out of five,’ Lucy murmured and JD laughed, amazed he had the energy to do so.
‘I think I’d die.’ They lay on their backs, breathing hard. ‘But it’d be a helluva way to go.’
‘I don’t think I can move.’
‘Then don’t.’
‘But I’m freezing,’ she said. With a groan he forced himself to move, covering her with a blanket. ‘Where are you going?’ she asked when he went toward the door.
‘To get my gun,’ he said, regretting the reality that returned to her eyes. He got his gun and their clothes, checked the lock on the door, then returned to find her nearly asleep. For a moment he let himself look. And hope.
Her eyes fluttered open with difficulty. ‘Why are you staring at me?’
Because you’re mine, he thought. ‘Because you’re beautiful,’ he said.
She smiled at him and for that instant the world was right. ‘Come. Sleep.’
He put his gun and cell phone on her nightstand, just in case, then shucked his pants and climbed under the covers, spooning her against him. She hummed happily.
‘You’re always warm. So warm.’
‘I have my uses,’ he said wryly and chuckled when she wriggled a little.
‘Indeed.’
He switched off the light and they lay in the darkness, but he didn’t sleep. Neither did she. Finally she sighed.
‘JD? Do you still see your mother?’
‘From time to time. Whenever she wants money.’
‘Do you give it to her?’
‘No. I’ll buy her groceries or pay her electric bill sometimes, but money would go straight into some liquor store’s cash register.’
‘Why? Why do you take care of her? She abandoned you.’
‘I didn’t for a long time. And I don’t often. Usually she doesn’t ask. I think she hates to ask. Hates to owe me anything.’
She turned to her back to stare up at him in the darkness. ‘But why do you care?’
‘I don’t know, Lucy. She’s my mother. A few times she tried to go sober and straight. It was never good, but it wasn’t foster care. I guess I remember the few not-so-bad times when she comes with her hand out.’
‘My mother would bake bread,’ Lucy said. ‘She was always so busy taking care of other people’s kids, but on Sundays she’d bake bread. Sometimes she’d bring me a slice in bed, with butter and jam. Every time I smell fresh bread I remember that.’
‘And you miss those times.’
‘Yes.’
‘You know you didn’t cause her to become fragile, Lucy.’
‘Yes, I know. But I also know I was mean to her when I was in college. I regret sending her all those pictures of me on a motorcycle. I wanted to hurt her and I did.’
Her reaction to his helmet made more sense. It represented a Lucy she didn’t want to be again. ‘Why don’t you just talk to her, honey? Make things right if you can? People can change.’
‘My father wouldn’t let me. I remembered she’d tried to say something as she passed me in court, but my father dragged her away. I called the house to talk to her and he told me I’d done enough. To leave her alone, that she didn’t want to talk to me. Ever again.’
‘Maybe he lied.’
‘I thought so, so I tried again. I waited till I knew he wouldn’t be home and called. She answered and I asked if she was okay. If he was hurting her. She insisted he wasn’t. I told her I was going to California, even if I didn’t get into med school there. She wished me a good life. Told me it would be best for all of us if I didn’t bother her again.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘I should be sorry. I’m the one who said we shouldn’t talk about family. It’s just that going back the last few days makes it all come back. I’ll shut up and let you sleep.’
She could keep him awake any day of the week, he thought as she rolled over and snuggled against him. He ran his hand down the silkiness of her arm, physically content. But his mind churned with unanswered questions. She still hadn’t gone to sleep, so he ventured to ask.
‘Lucy, what happened to your second fiancé?’
‘He left me.’
‘Why? Although I confess I’m happy he did.’
‘I was too, after the fact. Gus was as far from Heath as possible. I met him a few years after I’d moved to LA. I’d been scared straight and decided I’d never have another bad boy. Gus was a good man. And he was a nice man. He just decided I wasn’t for him.’
‘What did he do?’ he asked.
‘For his job? He was a carpenter. Once a year he’d go to Mexico and build houses. I went with him, the summer I finished my residency.’
He remembered her story from the day before. ‘Oh. The little girl who was injured.’
‘Yes. We came up on the accident minutes after it happened. A girl’s leg was pinned, bleeding profusely. People had gathered, but nobody could get her out or stop the bleeding.’
‘You got her out.’
‘Yes.’ She went quiet a moment. ‘The hospital was hours away by car. They were sending a helicopter for the girl, but she was going to die before they got there. And gas was leaking from both vehicles in the wreck. The other car was burning. People were screaming. Her mother was begging, praying, crying. The girl was going to lose her leg. It was crushed under a truck, for God’s sake. So I took the Sawzall from Gus’s toolbox and amputated it.’
She drew a breath and shuddered it out. ‘I’ll never get that child’s screams out of my head. It was horrific. After I did it, I pulled her away from the truck and it blew, sky high.’
He was horrified just listening. ‘Shit.’
‘I kept working on her with whatever tools I could find, trying to stop the bleeding. I went with her to the hospital in the helicopter, praying I’d done the right thing.’
‘You saved her from getting blown sky-high.’
‘The doctors at the hospital said it was excellent field work. The girl lived. Her parents were grateful. But Gus was horrified. He knew I’d be working in an ER when we got back to LA, but I guess actually seeing me do it was different. He said I was a robot, that I was able to ignore that girl’s screams and carve her up like I had no soul. I didn’t ignore her screams. They still haunt me. I just did what I thought needed to be done.’
‘That’s not being a robot,’ he said. ‘That’s being able to focus on what needs to be done.’
She made a small sound of gratitude. ‘Even if you don’t mean it, thank you.’
‘I mean it.’ He kissed her temple. ‘What happened to fiancé number two?’
‘Gus left after we got back home. Engagement broken, fairly amicably.’
‘How fairly?’ he asked warily. ‘Did you break his nose too?’
She laughed. ‘No, I just wouldn’t give him back the ring. I’d taken a hit on wedding deposits. I figured it was a fair trade. He finally agreed.’
‘So where’s the ring?’
‘I had it made into a necklace, but I couldn’t wear it. It reminded me that he hadn’t wanted me either. I sold it and put the money toward my share of the down payment on the club.’
‘Where nobody calls you a robot.’
‘Yes.’ She sounded embarrassed. ‘I don’t expect that to make sense to you.’
He was quiet for a long time, thinking. Remembering. ‘It does,’ he finally said.
‘It does what?’ she murmured, almost asleep.
‘Make sense to me.’
She rolled over to look up at him. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘The day Maya died, we fought. She said I was cold. Robotic.’
‘Why would she say that?’
‘Why did Maya say you were cold? And robotic?’
‘She said no one with as much blood as I had on my hands should be a father. That anyone who could take out targets like I had was a robot. With no heart. That I couldn’t love a child.’
Lucy blanched. ‘My God. What a horrible thing to say. She was wrong, JD. You have heart.’ She cupped his jaw in her palm. ‘I’ve seen it. You have compassion and you care. And a little girl named Cordelia loves you and you love her. Maya was wrong.’
Her words eased his heart. ‘I want to think so,’ he said.
‘Know so. Maybe she thought she couldn’t be a parent but didn’t want to say it.’
He hadn’t considered that. ‘It’s possible.’ Probable even.
‘Not everyone should be a parent. But it doesn’t mean the cycle has to continue.’
He hesitated. It was too soon to ask it, but he couldn’t help himself. He needed to know, before he fell past the point of no return. ‘What about you? Do you want kids?’
She met his eyes in the darkness. ‘Yes. I’d be a better mom than mine was. I’d never let anyone hurt my child. Any other questions?’
‘No. I’m good for now.’
‘Then go to sleep.’
Wednesday, May 5, 2.15 A.M.
He’d earned a good night’s sleep. Dumping Agar’s body had been a breeze. No problems encountered. No one had come, everyone fast asleep in their little beds.
He’d left Sonny Westcott tied up on the floor of his plant, battered but alive. He’d simply run out of time. And energy. He wanted to do the job right versus finishing off Sonny too fast because he had somewhere he needed to be.
His cell rang, startling him. He rolled his eyes at the caller ID. ‘What’s up, baby?’
‘I woke up and you weren’t here.’
‘I had to run out for cigarettes. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Go back to sleep.’
Wednesday, May 5, 5.15 A.M.
JD awoke with a start. The bed was empty, the sheets cold. Lucy was gone.
He rolled over, prepared to swing to his feet, but he stilled abruptly. She was standing by the window, staring down at the deserted street. She wore an oversized T-shirt that left most of her legs bare. Her cheeks were wet and she wiped at them with the back of her left hand, her lips pursed to keep her weeping silent. Her right hand held a hinged frame with two photographs.
Quietly JD rose and put his hands on her shoulders, pressing a kiss to her temple.
She drew a ragged breath and leaned against him. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’
He covered her hand with his, turning the frame so he could see. On one side was her brother Buck, a football helmet under one arm. On the other was a man astride a motorcycle, also with a helmet under one arm. That must be Heath, the first fiancé. He was relieved to find he felt no jealousy. All he felt was concern for her. Her silent weeping broke his heart.
‘I was wondering when it would hit you,’ he murmured.
‘It just did. Today I found out my brother wasn’t who I thought he was. I still miss him.’ She looked at the picture in her hands. ‘This is all I have of him. I don’t even have the bracelet anymore. Not that I ever did.’
‘Did he love you?’
‘I want to believe he did. But I don’t know what he did.’ She said it desperately.
‘Which night?’ he asked. ‘The night Ileanna died or the night Buck died?’
She swallowed hard. ‘Both, I guess. I knew something was wrong. I knew my father was angrier and my mother was sadder than normal. And Buck was . . . upset. I thought it was because of what happened with Ileanna – she’d been his date. Naturally he’d be upset, right?’
‘Right.’
‘The night Buck died, I wasn’t home. Gwyn’s mom offered to take her and me to the movies, then let us have a sleepover. I always liked going to Gwyn’s house.’
‘Did you ever tell anyone about your father’s abuse?’
‘No. Who’d believe me? I mean, he was the sheriff and she was the doctor. Would the doctor let a man hurt her kids? Surely not.’
‘But she did.’
‘Yeah. Battered wives come in all shapes and sizes, from all walks of life. My mom let him hurt her, and us. I used to wish she’d gather us up and whisk us away in the night.’
‘But she didn’t.’
‘No. She stayed with him. She’s still with him. At some point I decided that I had to take care of myself, because she wasn’t going to.’
‘When was that?’
‘My first night at St Anne’s.’
His heart broke a little more, but he kept it from his voice. ‘You did take care of yourself, and others too. You might have become selfish, Lucy, but you didn’t. You love the Pughs and they love you. You’ve got a career. Two, in fact. And you made your own family with Gwyn.’
‘And Thorne. He looks big and mean, but he’s had his share of loss too. So has Gwyn. In fact, that’s what Sheidalin stands for. When we were choosing the name, we decided we’d each contribute a piece, the name of someone we lost. The “LIN” is for Linus. Now I wonder if I did the right thing in choosing his name. What if he helped kill her, JD? What if he killed Ricky Joyner? What if I never know?’
He cupped her neck in his palm, massaging her taut muscles with his thumb. ‘I don’t know, honey. Not knowing would be the hardest, but however it turns out, you don’t have to face it by yourself.’
‘Thank you. Thank you for not telling me it will be okay when you don’t know.’
‘You’re welcome. Now why don’t we go back to sleep? We have another hour—’ He stopped, narrowing his eyes as he looked away from her reflection in the window and down to his car parked in the lot below. ‘What the hell?’
‘What?’ Lucy leaned forward, straining to see. ‘Your trunk is open.’
He grabbed his pants and yanked them on. ‘Put some clothes on. You can’t stay here alone.’ She quickly did so and in minutes they were headed out her front door and down the stairs to his car.
His trunk was slightly ajar, a dent on one side where it had been pried open. He got a pair of latex gloves from the glove box. Pulling them on, he opened the trunk a few inches, peered in, then stepped back, his expression hard.
‘Good news, he thinks you feel safe with me. Bad news, we just found Ryan Agar.’
Wednesday, May 5, 5.35 A.M.
They’d both suited up once backup had arrived, JD in a suit and tie and Lucy in her white coveralls. JD was directing the uniforms as to where to string the crime-scene tape when his cell rang. He thought it would be Stevie since he’d left her a message to call, but it was an unknown number. ‘This is Detective Fitzpatrick.’
‘I’m sorry if I woke you. This is Deputy Sheriff Ashton McHale, Anderson Ferry.’
‘Deputy, this is a really bad time. Can I call you back?
‘Actually, we’re having a bad time too. Our sheriff is missing.’
JD closed his eyes. Fuck. Lucy had warned Westcott. ‘Since when?’
‘He went out yesterday afternoon, soon after your group left our office. We assumed he’d gone home for the day. This morning his mother stopped by to check on him because he hadn’t returned any of her phone calls. He hadn’t come home, which was not normal. We did a search and found his car parked off the road near a rental property that’s been empty for some time.’
JD looked into the trunk of his car where Ryan Agar lay bound and gagged. And beaten. Lucy was bent over the body, starting her preliminary exam with Ruby Gomez at her side, so he stepped back several feet to give them room.
‘Were there signs of a struggle around the car?’ he asked and Lucy looked over her shoulder. He motioned her to continue with Agar and, though frowning, she complied.
&nbs
p; ‘Yes,’ the deputy said. ‘We found blood matching the sheriff’s type on the ground and signs that he’d been dragged to the dock. We also found another car, registered to Dr Trask.’
JD’s brows crunched. ‘That’s not possible. We have her car in our shop.’
There was a moment of silence. ‘Oh. I’m talking about Dr Trask, the mother. You must be talking about the daughter.’
JD’s heart sank. Not her mother. He thought of Mrs Westcott’s account of her rushing out with her medical bag and had another thought. He stepped much further away, turning so that Lucy couldn’t hear. ‘Former sheriff Trask’s boat. Is it there?’
‘No,’ the deputy said. ‘And he’s nowhere to be found either.’
‘I understand,’ he murmured. ‘How many people know about this?’
‘Mrs Westcott knows,’ the deputy said flatly.
Which meant everyone would soon know. ‘Understood.’ He made himself think about case logistics and not how this would affect Lucy. The killer had been in Anderson Ferry. With us. Again he kicked himself for letting the black Lexus pass him. ‘We’re going to send a CSU team if that’s all right.’
‘Fine with us. We don’t have the resources for something like this.’
‘Thank you. One thing I’d like you to do. These disappearances are related to murders we’re investigating here in the city. The killer was last seen driving a black Lexus. Can you do a search around the town? I don’t have the plate. When you find it, cordon it off. Don’t open it, don’t let anyone touch it. It could be our only link right now.’
‘Understood. When should we expect your CSU van?’
JD sighed. ‘Well, they’re processing a scene for me right now.’
‘Who?’ the deputy asked tightly.
The man had been direct with him and JD respected that. ‘Ryan Agar.’
‘Oh my God. I’m sorry. It’s just that . . . I grew up with him. I heard his mother was murdered too. Westcott’s dead, isn’t he?’
‘Let’s not assume yet. I’ll get the van to you as soon as possible.’ JD hung up and dialed Stevie again.
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I was in the shower and didn’t hear my cell. What’s happened?’ He told her and listened to her creative swearing. ‘Lucy warned that SOB Westcott. I’m having trouble feeling sorry for any of them, JD.’