Jaid Black

by One Dark Night

Usually the cold steel served the purpose of keeping criminals away from society so they couldn’t inflict more damage on anyone. That was still true. But tonight the bars held a dual purpose—they also kept one sicko in particular from getting murdered at the hands of the man he’d once called partner and best friend.

  His muscles tense, his jaw tight, Thomas slowly made his way down the hall to the cell where James was held. He came to a stop before it, noting the surprised expression on his ex-partner’s face to see him standing there. Apparently he too had thought the chief would never leave them alone together. Not even with impenetrable steel bars between them.

  Their gazes clashed and locked. James held his stare a moment longer, then looked away.

  Silence consumed the holding-cell area, completely deserted for the moment. Thomas breathed deeply, realizing his questions would never be answered if he couldn’t get a handle on his rage.

  “Why?” he finally snarled. “Just tell me goddamn why.”

  James said nothing.

  “Why?” Thomas bellowed.

  James closed his eyes. He sighed, then opened them. “And if I told you I was innocent?” he asked in a monotone, his face averted from Thomas’s.

  “I’d say you’re a liar.” His jaw was so tight it felt like it might crack. “Don’t give me this bullshit, James. Tell me. Off the record.” His hands balled and unballed at his sides. The tentative control he’d held over his raw emotions was quickly evaporating. “O’Rourke found Amy’s bloody shirt in your house,” he gasped. “Why?” He was torn between wanting to cry, needing to vomit, and wanting to kill. “Tell me.”

  “I didn’t do it!” James bellowed as he shot to his feet. He began to pace from within the small confines of the holding cell, a tiny area that boasted a small bed and a toilet. “Christ,” he ground out. “I can’t fucking explain that shirt, Cavanah. I don’t know how it got there unless Lucifer put it there. All I know is I didn’t kill her, could never kill her.”

  His ex-partner’s eyes were wild, naked with upset and revulsion. Revulsion of himself perhaps? Or just revulsion that he’d finally been beaten at his game?

  “I know you don’t believe me,” James muttered, running a punishing hand through his short light brown hair. “Shit, I wouldn’t either. I fucked up when I lied to you about Lisa Pinoza. I know that! But this . . . my God, it’s making my stomach turn.”

  Thomas closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. Every man ever arrested said the same damn thing. It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him. No way could he do something like that to another person. It was always the same line. In this case Thomas wanted to believe the line, but realized that he couldn’t. His daughter’s bloody shirt—there was no way to explain that away. No way in hell.

  “I see this conversation is going nowhere,” Thomas said, opening his eyes. “I asked for the answer to one question and you wouldn’t even give me that.”

  “You want me to make something up?” James snapped. “Because that’s what any alleged confession would amount to—lies!”

  “How the fuck did my daughter’s shirt get in your house?” Thomas bellowed, his hand slicing wildly through the air. His heartbeat was accelerating, perspiration breaking out on his forehead. “She trusted you, you sick fuck!” he raged, his teeth gritting as he grabbed the steel bars so tightly his knuckles turned white. Tears stung the backs of his eyes—whether from anger, sorrow, betrayal, or all three, he couldn’t say. “She trusted you,” he said hoarsely.

  A pained expression crossed James’s features. “I lied about Lisa. I don’t deny it,” he said softly. His voice caught. “But God in heaven, I could never have hurt Amy.”

  Thomas shook the bars once, his fury escalating. He wanted to believe him. Sweet lord how he wanted to. “Talk to me. Now. Tell me.”

  James was quiet a long, tense moment. “I was sleeping with Lisa,” he finally muttered. “When she turned up dead . . . I don’t know. I freaked out. All I can say is I freaked out! You were in Savannah visiting your mom, I didn’t have you around to bounce my guilt and fear off of. I made the wrong decision, and it’s been eating me up ever since! Shit!”

  He began to pace again. “I had no alibi for the time frame of her death. None,” he said, slashing his hand through the air. “I freaked out. I just lost it.”

  “Lack of an alibi wouldn’t have automatically made you look guilty,” Thomas growled. “You can—”

  “Bullshit!” James shot back. “I was fucking Lisa. I thought I was the only extramarital lover she had. She wound up dead—dead!—killed by a man everyone knew she was willingly going to meet. I had no alibi whatsoever.” His jaw clenched. “That would have been enough and you know it. We’ve both seen men go to death row with far less ‘evidence’ to go on!”

  Thomas ran a hand over his unshaven jaw, not able to refute that. He didn’t know what to believe, and it was tearing him apart. He wanted to believe James more than he wanted to breathe, but the last time he’d put his trust into him he’d been calculatingly lied to.

  “I’m not ready for this,” Thomas muttered, backing away from the holding cell. “I thought I was, but I’m not.”

  James grabbed the bars as Thomas began to back away. “If I had used logic back then,” he rasped, “I would have realized I’d get to go free when Lucifer killed again. Because men like him can’t stop. They need it like my old man needs a bottle.”

  Thomas’s eyes narrowed. He turned on his heel, giving James his back as he walked away.

  “He’ll do it again!” James bellowed, rattling the bars. “Do you hear me? He’ll do it again! He might stop for a while, feeling lucky that the scent has been thrown off his trail, but in the end the need for a fix will take over and he will kill. Listen to me, goddamn you!”

  Thomas stilled, his body tense.

  “Just watch out for Dr. Adenike,” James said to his back, the fight going out of him. “When the house of cards started falling down around me I tried to hunt him like a man possessed. I don’t know much more than I started out with, but I know he still wants her.

  “I don’t know why I thought I could find him alone when me and you together haven’t found him after all these years, but then I don’t know why I ran scared after Lisa was murdered rather than confide in you either. Call it desperation,” he muttered. “A desperate mind grasps at anything.”

  Thomas said nothing. He hesitated for a long moment, and then left the holding cell.

  Seeing Kim again felt so good Nikki about cried. She spent the first five minutes doing nothing but hugging her.

  Seated at the kitchen table within the Cox estate, she spent the next half hour or so bringing her best friend up to speed. “I’m so tired,” she finally finished, her expression faraway, “but the thought of going back into that apartment alone is about as appealing as chewing broken glass.”

  Kim ran a gentle hand over her back. “Stay here tonight. You can go into work tomorrow directly from here.”

  “I don’t have a work to go to.”

  Kim’s eyes widened. “They fired you?” she asked incredulously.

  “No—no!” Nikki shook her head, causing Kim to release a pent-up breath. “Sorry I wasn’t clearer. They changed our schedules while I was away is all. I’m off Saturday and Sunday nights now.”

  “Whoa! That schedule almost fits that of a normal person,” Kim teased.

  Nikki smiled. “Almost.”

  Kim absently drummed her fingertips on the kitchen table as she gave that new development some thought. “Why don’t we go away for the weekend?” she asked. “Maybe Amish country. Someplace relatively close and extremely noneventful.”

  “Sounds good,” Nikki said with a small chuckle.

  She wavered for only a second, long enough to wonder if Thomas would call while she was away, then discarded the possibility altogether. She doubted he’d call. And even if he did, she was not the type of woman who only spared time for her best friend when no available men were around. N
o matter who that man was. “Why don’t we drive down tonight? I recall there being a quaint little Victorian inn close to Sugarcreek.”

  “Hmm . . . the one in Millersburg?”

  “Yep. That’s the one.”

  “Sounds good,” Kim said, grinning. She rose up to her feet. “We’ll do a little shopping, show off our scantily clad ankles to the yokels . . . it’ll be a hoot.”

  “Scantily clad ankles,” Nikki muttered. “Hell, let’s just be really brazen and wear shorts. Show them Amish boys a little knee while we’re at it.”

  Kim laughed as she hobbled away. “Let me leave Megan a note, and then we’re outta here.”

  Chapter 25

  Saturday, July 26 1:15 P.M.

  Thomas paced inside his small office, agitated that Nikki still hadn’t answered the phone. He’d called at least a dozen times to check up on her, paged her beeper just as many times, drove over to her apartment twice, and still hadn’t located her. The hospital said she was off until Monday afternoon so not to expect her in unless an emergency surgery ensued.

  He sighed as he hung up the cell phone, deciding to stop over at the Cox estate after he left headquarters to see if Nikki’d shown up there. He didn’t know if he should be worried or jealous.

  Unable to sort out how he felt about James, Thomas had decided to play it safe and make sure two cops stuck to Nikki like white on rice. Unfortunately, he’d given the order after she’d left work for the night. Both cops had reported that Nikki never showed up at home after leaving the hospital, so sticking to her like anything wasn’t possible.

  “He’ll do it again! Do you hear me? He’ll do it again! . . . Listen to me, goddamn you!”

  Thomas had listened. Loud and clear. The rational part of his brain, however, told him Lucifer was behind bars where he belonged. “Face it, buddy,” he muttered to himself. “Wanting James to be innocent damn sure don’t make him that way.”

  He picked up some files to rifle through later at home and then left. He needed to talk to Nikki.

  Scowling, Thomas read and reread the note Dr. Kimberly Cox had left behind for her stepmother:

  Megan,

  As you know, Lucifer has been caught. Nikki and I both need to unwind a bit, so I’m taking her away for the three Fs—food, fun, and *ahem* flirting with handsome men. Call my cell if you need me. I’ll see you on Sunday.

  Kim

  *ahem* flirting with handsome men. His teeth gritted. Thomas realized that Kimberly Cox was probably only joking—he hoped—but that didn’t lessen the intense jealousy coiling in his gut.

  “Thanks for letting me know,” Thomas muttered as he handed back the note to Megan Cox. “Have you spoken to your daughter recently?”

  She nodded. “Both of them. Not even an hour ago. They sounded just fine.”

  He absently inclined his head.

  “Is everything all right?” Mrs. Cox asked, her expression worried. “Should I call Kim on her cell phone?”

  No, it sure as hell wasn’t all right. The note didn’t say where Nikki was, and the curiosity was killing him. There had better be no *ahem* anything, he thought grimly. Still, he didn’t want to drag Dr. Cox and her mother into the middle of things. That wasn’t Thomas’s style, never had been. He’d wait to speak to Nikki until she returned from her weekend getaway—or until she saw fit to answer one of his numerous pages.

  And just why wasn’t Nikki answering his pages? Had she lied to him that night, saying she wanted to belong to him? Was it all just a bunch of words she used so he’d want to play out her sexual fantasies? She must have known how upset he’d be, that he’d need her after he saw James, yet she’d left him high and dry the moment she got off work.

  The thought that he’d been used and tossed aside made his blood boil. But more to the point, it also hurt more than he cared to admit. Anger was easier to own up to, but he’d be a liar if he said his stomach wasn’t twisted with hurt. Still, there was no need to worry Kim’s mother.

  “Everything’s fine, ma’am,” he assured her. “But if one of them should phone you again, please tell Nikki I’d like her to get in touch with me.”

  That seemed to lessen her anxiety. “Of course, Detective. Thanks for dropping by.”

  Thomas inclined his head then left.

  “No . . . oh please—noooo!”

  “Wake up, Kimmie. Wake up!”

  Kim gasped as she bolted upright in the bed, sweat plastering the silk nightgown against her body like a second skin. Panting for air, her eyes wildly darted around the suite until realization dawned and she knew she’d been dreaming.

  “Are you okay?” Nikki gently prodded as she brushed Kim’s soaking-wet hair back from her forehead. Her eyes widened. “My God, Kim, you’re in a cold sweat! That must have been one heck of a nightmare.”

  “It was,” she admitted shakily, her eyes round as moons. Her breasts rose and fell with her labored breathing. “Damn,” she muttered, briefly closing her eyes.

  “Was it about . . . him?” Nikki softly inquired.

  Kim nodded. “Yes. It was awful.” Her face scrunched up. “Awful.”

  Nikki sighed but said nothing.

  “It was like before,” Kim whispered, her eyes opening, “but worse. A dark space. The scent of water. Rape. Torture. Death. And those eyes . . .” She shivered. “There’s something strange about his eyes. They are so . . .”

  “Blue,” Nikki finished for her.

  “Yes.” Kim frowned. “Yes. So blue. Almost . . . too blue.”

  Nikki bit her lip. That same thought had gone through her mind before, too. Richard’s eyes had seemed almost surreal. Like one of those dogs—Siberian huskies, she thought they were called. Or like a man wearing contacts for Halloween. But it didn’t matter anymore. He was locked away. End of story.

  “I don’t like this,” Kim muttered, tearing off the covers. “Something isn’t right.”

  “Kimmie,” Nikki gently reminded her as she helped her stand up. “He’s in jail now. We’re both safe. You’ve got to let him go.”

  Their gazes met and held. “Yes,” Kim slowly agreed. She sighed. “Of course, you’re right.” She smiled in a self-deprecating manner. “I guess my voodoo hocus-pocus hasn’t figured that out yet, though.”

  Nikki chuckled at the reminder of how Detective Ben O’Rourke had referred to Kim’s visions. “Go take a bath, kiddo. I’ll find you a fresh nightie while you’re soaking and bring it in to you in a few.”

  “Thanks.” Kim grinned. “I’ve had a really fabulous time so far. Well, right up until that dream.”

  “I’ll just bet you have,” Nikki said pointedly. “I’ve seen more horny Amish men this weekend than I care to contemplate. All thanks to you and your ever-so-seductive ankles.”

  “Hey, when you’ve got it, might as well flaunt it.”

  Nikki laughed at that. “Go take a bath, you hussy. I’ll make us a midnight snack and fetch that nightie.”

  “Well?” Priscilla demanded after her father locked the office door behind them. She smoothed out the flowing silk robe she wore, hating to look a mess even in the middle of the night. “Tell me, please, before I expire of curiosity!”

  Maxwell Harrington’s face looked haggard, defeated even. She searched her father’s eyes, knowing no good news would be forthcoming.

  “I’ve blown it forever this time, haven’t I?” Priscilla asked fearfully. “I’m so sorry, Daddy. I never meant to disappoint you like this.”

  “Cilla.” Maxwell sighed. “Get a hold of yourself, sweetheart. You know Daddy won’t let that little toad come between you and reelection.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’ve found him, then?” she said hopefully.

  He frowned. “I think so, but we don’t know yet. Your secretary and I have got it narrowed down to three.” His eyebrows slowly inched together. “You’ve been keeping that cell phone as well as your private bedroom phone on like I told you to?”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  “Good girl.” Max
well inclined his head. “Remember to try to keep him talking as long as you can next time he calls.”

  “I will.”

  Her father tiredly ran a hand over his cheek. “I need some sleep. Tomorrow morning we all go to church together, smile at the press, etcetera, etcetera. I want you to throw the occasional devoted smile up to Otis, make it look real convincing. You know what I’m talking about.”

  The senator nodded.

  “Go get some sleep, Cilla,” Maxwell muttered. “You’ve got bags under your eyes and you know how sallow that makes you look on television.”

  “I know. It’s just been so difficult to fall asleep, and you know where I stand on sedatives.” The senator stood up on tiptoe to kiss her father’s cheek, then turned to leave the office. “Good night, Daddy.”

  Maxwell watched her walk away. “Cilla,” he called out just as she was preparing to open the door. She turned her head to look at him. “Remember that bill you endorsed? The antigun legislation?”

  She sighed. “Daddy, I don’t feel like going through this right now. I—”

  “I’m proud of you,” he said softly, making her eyes widen. “I’ve never believed in giving any fool with a few bucks the right to own a deadly weapon, either. Difference between us being I never had the guts to say so.” His eyes shone with pride. If she didn’t get out of here soon, she suspected hers would start shining with tears. “You’re a damn good senator, Cilla. I’m proud to call you my daughter.”

  Their gazes found each other. “Thank you,” she said a bit shakily. “You don’t know how many years I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

  “Go to bed before we both start crying like pussies,” Maxwell grumbled.

  Cilla smiled tremulously. “Will you still love me if my career goes down faster than the Titanic?” she whispered.

  “Of course. You’re my child.” Maxwell shook his head. “Anyway, that won’t happen. We’ll get through this, you and me, just like always.” He walked toward the office’s opposite door. “Just do me a favor after I take care of your little problem?” he threw out over his shoulder.