by Ana Leigh
"I live here," Charlie said.
"Really. Pay must be pretty good, pal."
"Oh, I don't have one of them fancy apartments like the judge. Three rooms downstairs. It's real comfortable and the price is right. Comes with the job."
"So you're happy in your work."
"Yeah, can't complain. Pay's decent, and I get along good with most of the occupants. And at Christmastime it's a real bonanza. Couple of them have their noses in the air, but take the judge, for instance, she ain't got a snooty bone in her body."
Damn straight.
"I figure you for an ex-cop, Charlie. Am I right?"
"Yeah, put in my twenty years and took retirement."
"You married, Charlie?" Small talk. Stalling. Gathering enough nerve to face her.
"Naw. I've got an easy life. Better than when I pounded a beat. Why spoil it? You jog every morning?"
"If I get the chance. That or I work out when time allows."
"I oughta start doing that. This sitting around all day ain't doing me no good."
"You've got that right, pal," Doug said, and pushed the elevator button.
He knocked and braced himself for the worst. Sorry's not enough. But he'd have to try and get it out before she could slam the door.
Jess looked surprised when she opened the door and saw him. Since she had plenty of time to close it in the awkward moment they just stared at each other, he figured he had a shot at the apology. "Hi."
"What do you want, Doug?"
"May I come in?"
"What for?"
"I'd like to talk to you."
"This is a bad time. I have to get dressed, and—"
"It won't take long, Jess."
She walked away, but didn't close the door, so he took it as a yes. He stepped in, then quietly shut the door behind him, and leaned back against it until he heard the lock click. Jess had her back to him and was staring out the window, her arms folded across her chest.
"I'm sorry, Jess. You've got the right to be mad." He fought to concentrate on what he'd come to say, but the robe she had on was a white satiny thing and he could tell by the way it clung to the curve of her hips that there was nothing but Jess beneath it. He swallowed to try and slip the words past the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. "I … kind of freaked when I saw you with the old… Dammit, Jess, why didn't you tell me sooner that he was your father?"
She turned her head and glared at him. "You're supposed to be the detective." She resumed staring out the window.
"You're right. I screwed up royally last night. It was a stupid assumption. You're too classy to string an old guy along and sleep with a younger one."
"Thank you, Doug. I'm afraid it's getting late and I have the shower running."
"Yeah, I understand." He reached behind him for the doorknob. "I just wanted you to know how sorry I am. And for what it's worth, Jess, I think you're one grand woman. It was great while it lasted." He turned to leave.
"Are you calling it off, Detective?" His hand froze on the knob and he turned his head and looked at her. She was staring at him with the same smile he figured Eve wore when she handed Adam the apple. "You look like you could use a shower yourself."
She unzipped the robe and started to slip it off her shoulders. His hormones shifted into overdrive and propelled him across the room before her robe hit the floor. His sweats and sneakers met the same fate, then he swooped her up into his arms. They broke the kiss when the pelting spray of the shower forced them to breathe or drown.
Breath was too precious to waste on words, need too great to delay. Their foreplay had been in the wait, the wanting, the unspoken word – and in the contrition and forgiveness of their spoken ones.
They now breathed as one, their hearts beat as one, and in those exquisite moments when their bodies molded, fused and then climaxed, their souls combined and became one. Then and only then did they find time to kiss, to caress and to taste.
As soon as they dressed, Jess offered to drive him home on her way to the courthouse, but his pride opted him to get back the way he had come. Another dumb move, but he was a victim of his own male chauvinism. He kissed her goodbye and said he'd call her later.
Jogging back gave him a good chance to think. Jess was no more ready to give up on him than he was on her, and he had to face the reality that his need for her was quickly becoming much more than just a physical one. The thought scared the hell out of him.
* * *
Liz was on the job and hard at work when Jess arrived. After a quick greeting, she resumed typing.
"You gave me a real scare yesterday when I went to your house and you weren't there."
Liz didn't look up. "I'm sorry. I should have called you. I felt better so I went out."
She was acting unnatural, and had been for several days. They were too close for Jess to ignore it any longer. "Liz, what's going on?"
Startled, Liz glanced up at her. "What do you mean?"
"Liz, you haven't been yourself for days. Do you have a problem?"
"No, of course not."
"I'd believe that if I wasn't looking at you when you said it. Are you sure you're feeling okay?"
"I'm fine, Jess. Truly, I am."
"Okay, but if there's any way I can help let me know." Jess went into her chambers and sat down at her desk. She knew Liz was holding back something.
This must be the season for it? After his apology, she and Doug hadn't said another word about last night's quarrel, either. She understood why he was jealous. Jess smiled despite the seriousness of the incident. His enigmatic nature again. The man wasn't the least bit intimidated by her seven-year relationship with Dennis, but seeing her twice with Dad had sent him ballistic.
Doug McGuire was the last man on earth who would admit to being jealous, but he didn't have to. She knew enough about men to at least recognize jealousy.
What had upset her was his entering her apartment. She had nothing to hide, but she was uncomfortable with the idea. As intimate as they were physically – and the Lord knew how intimate that was – there was also a kind of standoff reserve in their relationship. He liked old movies and Sinatra, that a babe in Sheboygan got a gold watch out of me once, and his father was the police chief of a small town in Northern Illinois was about all he had even volunteered about his personal life. And he didn't seem too curious about hers, either. Was it his way of keeping their relationship confined to the bedroom only?
She wouldn't be much of a judge if she didn't try to weigh both sides of the scales. She was just as guilty. It took a quarrel between them for her to even identify her father to him. And just as bad, she'd never told him about Karen's murder, even though he was a homicide detective. Maybe it was time they both came out of the bedroom.
Jess reached for the telephone.
* * *
"McGuire, Line 2. Some broad waiting to talk to you," Novack shouted across the room.
"So what else is new," Vic commented, and returned his attention to the file he was reading.
Hoping it was a lead in response to his calls, Doug hung up the routine call he'd been on and punched the blinking light on his phone. "Detective McGuire."
"Hello, Detective McGuire."
Jess's voice stroked him like a velvet glove. "Hi." He glanced across at Vic, then swiveled his chair so his back was to his partner. "What can I do for you?" He got hard just thinking about what he could do for her.
"I think you've figured that out a long time ago."
"I should warn you, lady, if this is an obscene call I might be forced to cuff you and pull you in."
"Mmm, sounds kinky. Pull me into what? Tell me, Detective McGuire, since I'm kind of new at this, are we having phone sex right now?"
"I don't know about you, but I am."
Her light laugh turned him on as much as the thought of her cuffed to his bedpost.
"Seriously, Doug, I was wondering if you'd join me and my father for dinner tonight?"
"Thought you ha
d dinner with him last night?"
"That was unexpected. I'd been worried about Liz because she didn't come to work yesterday, and she wasn't at home, either. I tried you first. With no luck, so I called Dad. We ended up having dinner."
"Did you track her down?" Small talk, just to keep her talking. He liked listening to her voice.
"Finally, from the restaurant."
"So where had she been?"
"Come to think of it, she didn't say. Only that she felt better and had gone out. So are we on for tonight or not?" Jess asked.
"Wish I could, Jess, but we're tied up here on this case. And unless we get a break, it looks like we will be for a couple of nights." Thank God, he didn't have to lie to her, because he wasn't ready to meet dear old Dad. He visualized the old guy's look of disapproval when Jess told her father she was dating him.
"You really want me to crawl, don't you, McGuire? How about Saturday night?"
That got a chuckle out of him. "I thought you'd never ask."
"Good. I've got symphony tickets."
"Symphony tickets! Not fair. You bushwhacked me, lady."
"I promise to make it up to you."
"You've got that right."
"I've got to run, Doug. I'm due in court. Bye."
Doug hung up the phone and swiveled around to his desk. He picked up the Bellemy file in front of him. Something Jess had said replayed in his mind – Liz's strange behavior the day after Bellemy's murder. He had brushed off Vic's theory that a woman as well as a man could have committed Gilbert's and Bellemy's murders. Maybe the possibility had some merit after all. He recalled Liz once telling him that being single and living alone she worked out vigorously every day – pumped iron and the whole nine yards. But murder? Murders were committed by the real sleaze and screwups of the world. Liz Alexander always struck him as having a pretty level head on her shoulders. But he had nothing to lose by checking her out. He began rooting through the records piled high on his desk.
"Vic, where's that insulin users' printout?"
"What's up?" Vic asked, tossing it over to him.
"I'm not sure."
Doug perused it quickly, but there was no Elizabeth Alexander listed among the eighty-some names listed in Milwaukee and the adjoining counties. But that didn't mean one of them couldn't have been a relative, which could mean Liz might have access to the medicine.
Telephone time again. The phone company should start paying half his salary.
* * *
Fortunately her workload had kept Jess busy for the past two days; even so tonight had been on her mind. She thought it would never come.
When the intercom buzzed three times, Jess recognized the signal and slid quickly into her shoes, which were nothing more than wide straps across the front and stiletto heels attached to soles. She'd told Charlie to warn her when Doug was on his way up and wanted to be ready when she met him at the door, or there was no doubt in her mind that they'd end up in the bedroom and not the Performing Arts Center. Lead us not into temptation.
Jess hurried to the mirror. As she spun around for a final inspection she felt as excited as a schoolgirl going to her first date.
She'd never paid so much attention to dressing as she had tonight. She'd even bought a new dress for the occasion. She wanted to look especially nice for Doug.
The top of the black crepe dress draped her breasts and dropped in a flattering flare to her knees. Her shoulders were bare except for the two narrow spaghetti straps that crisscrossed attached at the small of her back. She smiled wickedly. Doug would love it. All he'd have to do is lower the straps off her shoulders and the dress would drop to the floor. She wore nothing under it except for a pair of wispy chiffon bikinis.
Her gaze shifted to her bare legs. After shaving them, she had creamed them until they felt as smooth as satin, and a deep summer tan prevented the need for hose.
Doug told her she had great legs. Dennis had never commented on her legs one way or the other. He seemed to have taken the whole package for granted. Doug, on the contrary, was just the opposite – he didn't take anything about her for granted. Her hair, her eyes, her breasts, her legs fell under his scrutiny and homage when he made love to her.
She'd always felt her looks were adequate, and that they paled in comparison to Karen's breathtaking, ethereal blond beauty. But Doug – Doug made her feel beautiful.
She grabbed the shawl and clutch bag off the bed and hurried to answer the knock at her door.
"Wow!" they said in unison when she opened it.
He was wearing his black suit, a white shirt and a black and gold striped tie. He looked so gorgeous it took her breath away.
Admiration gleamed in his eyes. "Great dress."
"Great tie," she responded.
"Christmas gift from my mom. Sure you want to go to that symphony?" He started to reach for her. "Why don't we—"
"Don't even think it, McGuire." She shoved him gently back, stepped out in the hallway and closed the door before she could change her mind.
* * *
I love your apartment, Jess. It's silly, but I feel your presence as if you were with me. And it makes me laugh how easily I dodge the security cameras getting up here. I'd like to tell you as much, but then you'd know I'd been here, and that would end it.
As much fun as this is, it can't compare to how much I enjoyed killing Gilbert and Bellemy. Gilbert was the easiest. We had a few drinks together and then I invited him to come home with me to shoot up on heroin. Boy, he was stupid. Thought he was getting a free fix. That's how I immobilized him. Bellemy was harder. At the last minute he decided not to shoot up, so I pretended I was. When he turned his back, I stuck the needle into his leg. We struggled for a few minutes, but it was too late.
The most brilliant part was the wheelchair to get them to my car. Just in case anyone might see me with the body, it would look like he was handicapped. But no one saw me. I'm too smart for that.
And putting the bodies in the river was a nice touch, don't you think, Jess? I liked the idea of them floating down the river. "Rollin', rollin', rollin' on the river." Lave that song. Kind of sends a message, too, don't you think?
This picture of Karen and you is so beautiful, Jess. I never tire of looking at it. My heart aches knowing how you still grieve for her. I wish I could find her killer for you. It would finally give you peace.
* * *
Chapter 10
«^»
"Well, this is a first," Jess said the next morning as Doug leaned over and kissed her goodbye. "You actually got through the whole night without your darn cell phone going off."
Doug chuckled. "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. Just the same, I better recharge the battery." He gave her another quick kiss. "I'll be back about noon."
Jess got out of bed and wandered listlessly into the living room. Her dress was flung across the back of a chair where Doug must have picked it up on his way out this morning. She'd been right about the dress. He'd had her out of it in a single, fluid motion. She found her shoes and on the way back to the bedroom, she picked up her earrings from the end table.
Jess couldn't help smiling. She'd taken them off and tossed them there when Doug said making love to a woman wearing real diamonds dangling from her ears made him feel like a gigolo. He was such a lovable contradiction – a self-deprecating, macho male.
Jess's smile dissipated when she saw Karen's picture was missing again. She glanced immediately at the opposite end table and there it sat.
"Darn you, Doug. Will you quit rearranging my decor," she mumbled good-naturedly. Returning the picture to its rightful spot, she went back to the bedroom.
When Doug returned several hours later he was wearing jeans and a muscle shirt. He looked so darn sexy that she had to fight to keep her hands off him. Since it was hotter than Hades, Jess dressed in a halter-top, shorts and flat sandals.
Doug gave her a long, appreciative once over. "Great legs," he said.
"Thank you. You have ment
ioned that before."
"So I have." His shifted his gaze to her breasts. "Well then, great—"
She raised a hand to halt what he was about to say. "I believe you've touched on that subject a time or two, also. Or should I say you've done considerably more than just touched."
"And how sweet they were. Guess then, that just leaves your trim little—"
"If you say it, I'm not stepping one foot out of this door," she threatened.
He flashed his irresistible grin that always succeeded in melting her feeble effort to resist him. "I was just going to comment on what trim little toes you have, Grandma."
"The better to kick you in those tight little buns of yours, my dear." She gave him a shove. "Shall we go?"
Jess was on edge on the ride to the Precinct. Ski was celebrating the bar's first anniversary, and Vic and his wife would be there. She'd been around detectives enough to know how close partners can become and the importance of their spouses or sweethearts getting along.
She might have guessed Doug would notice her nervousness, and wasn't surprised when he finally popped the question.
"So what's bothering you, Jess?"
"I'm a little nervous about meeting Vic's wife."
"Bev's a jewel."
"Easy for you to say. I'm still shivering from the cold shoulder I got from the wives at the baseball game."
"Hey, Bev isn't like that, Jess. She's one hundred percent. You'll like her."
There was friendly curiosity in Bev Peterson's eyes when Doug introduced Jess to Vic's dark-haired wife. Jess liked Bev on sight and within the hour had forgotten her earlier trepidation. The two women had no trouble chatting away and agreed that Doug and Vic had the best partner either one could have ever hoped for. By the time it came to leave, they'd planned to talk the fellows into taking them to a movie.
"We'll find a good comedy," Bev said. "These murders have gotten Vic a little uptight. At least that Sam Bellemy won't be able to molest any other eight-year-olds."
"Sam Bellemy? It was LeRoy Gilbert who was murdered."
"Yeah, sure. And then Bellemy."
"I didn't know about Bellemy."
Bev looked surprised. "Where have you been, Jess? They found Bellemy's body last Tuesday or Wednesday. Good heavens, it's been on television and in the newspaper."