by Debra Webb
Hodge laughed and just as quickly bit his lips together. Corwin did not look amused.
“Your house manager was murdered in her own home, presumably for someone to steal the key to your home since it has not been found. And to get the passcode to your security system.”
“Based on my assessment of time of death,” Devon argued, “the timing is right. It’s the only possible explanation.”
“We’re considering that avenue as well.” Corwin flipped open his small notebook. “Why didn’t you tell us about your other partner, Richard Sutter? The one your friend here called the feds about?”
“Mr. Sutter recently battled cancer,” Devon told him truthfully. “I saw no reason to cause him unnecessary grief. There, you now know my secret.”
“That doesn’t explain why you wanted to know if he’d left the country,” Corwin countered. “You must suspect his involvement. After all...” He flipped to another page in his notes. “...he filed suit against you three times. If you felt sorry for him, why didn’t you toss him a bone and settle? He was your partner when you developed this highly sought-after facility.”
Someone had done his homework and spoken to Richard’s wife. The entire time she’d been smiling at Devon, she had been hiding the fact that she’d spewed the whole ugly past to the police. Or maybe they’d visited her after he and Bella dropped in. He couldn’t be sure of anything anymore.
“Richard Sutter was once a great man with vision, but something happened five years ago and he became a liability. If you had done your homework as well as you believe, you would know Richard received a handsome settlement when we parted ways. The lawsuits that followed were the trivial pursuits of a man suffering from a brain tumor.”
Corwin considered that news for a moment. “Is it possible Sutter still suffers from some brain issue that’s causing him to go to all these lengths to frame you?”
“Anything is possible, Detective.” Devon leaned back in his chair. “If Richard is involved, it’s possible his wife is covering for him.”
“She did tell us he was out of the country,” Bella confirmed. “It might be worthwhile to look into her activities.”
Corwin stood. “I’ll do that. Meanwhile...” He glanced at his partner, who was still seated. “...as soon as she’s stable, we’ll be moving Ms. Maynard to Rush.”
“She’ll need around-the-clock protection,” Bella warned.
“And we’ll make sure she gets it,” Corwin said. “We wouldn’t want to lose her again.” He bopped his partner on the shoulder. Hodge shot to his feet and echoed his partner’s sentiment.
“Dr. Reagan will advise you as to when the patient can be transported.” Devon stood. “Good day, gentlemen.”
When the door had closed, Bella moved toward him. “We have some more homework to do as well.” She shifted her gaze from the closed door to him. “Assuming you can get away for a few hours.”
“When it comes to this investigation, you’re the boss.”
Heat flared in her dark eyes but she turned away too quickly for him to read whether he’d made her angry...or hot. Just drawing in her scent set him on fire, made him hard. He wanted to lock the door and take her right here, on his desk, against the wall, on the conference table.
He couldn’t remember when he had wanted a woman so much.
Not since he first saw Cara. They’d been snowed in at LaGuardia that Christmas. Rather than find a hotel as he usually would have, they’d spent the night in the airport talking. She had been on her way back to Atlanta, where she lived at the time. He’d been to a medical conference in Manhattan and was headed back to Chicago. The next morning they both decided to stay a few more days. A month later they’d got married. He had never been happier in his life. Maybe he would never understand what happened to change how she felt. Or why she’d had so many secrets that didn’t include him. Slowly but surely she had killed his ability to feel.
Until now.
Isabella Lytle had ignited something inside him that he wasn’t sure could ever be extinguished.
1:00 p.m.
THE REDHEAD WAS the only friend of Audrey Maynard’s on the street today. Maybe it was the early hour or maybe the others were in hiding.
“I’m not sure this is such a good idea.”
Bella glanced at Pierce. He stared across the street and up the block at the redhead, Jasmine, who was pictured in the photo with Audrey Maynard. She was chain-smoking and chatting it up with two men, both of whom looked like trouble.
“You had your chance,” Bella said. “Now it’s mine.”
From the hospital, they’d stopped by her place and she’d changed clothes. Her tightest jeans and a white tank top that fit like a second skin. She wore a black lacy bra for contrast. The red thongs on her feet wouldn’t be worth a flip—no pun intended—if she had to chase down a bad guy or make a run for it, but they gave her that casual look she needed for this approach. Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail with a colorful scarf tied around it. She lowered the car’s sun visor and dabbed on a little lip gloss in the mirror.
“You look like a teenager.”
She laughed. “I don’t know about that but I don’t look like a cop and that’s the point.” She popped a piece of gum into her mouth.
When she reached for the door handle, he touched her arm. Her skin where his blunt-tipped fingers lay so gently against her tingled. “Be very careful.”
“Don’t worry.” She draped the cross-body purse over her neck. Her Ruger fit perfectly into the small crescent-shaped bag. She’d already tucked her cell into her back pocket. It was just like the good old days undercover. She patted the bag. “I have backup.”
He still didn’t look convinced but he released her. When she emerged from the car, she felt giddy. It was a little silly that a mere touch would make her feel that way but it did. She’d awakened this morning tender and raw in the most intimate places. Her nipples hardened even now despite being sore from his ambitious attention. Thinking of how deeply he’d got inside her made her shiver. He’d wooed her into positions she’d never heard of, much less tried.
She felt him watching her as she jogged across the street. His clothes covered the scratches and teeth marks she’d left on his skin. She’d refused to use the whip on him but she’d tortured him just the same. She had explored every part of him. Tasted all of him. She licked her lips, wishing she could devour his mouth right here, right now. Last night, he had tasted of heat and that smoky rich flavor of the Scotch he preferred.
The redhead glanced at her as she approached. Bella exaggerated the sway of her hips and chomped her gum. “Hey, y’all.” She deepened her Southern drawl.
The redhead looked her up and down. “I don’t do chicks.”
The two men sniggered.
This close, Bella could see the men’s bad teeth and the sores that spoke of drug abuse. Ragged jeans and dirty shirts failed to cover the serious need for showers. Stringy hair poked from under their ball caps. The redhead, on the other hand, looked unusually clean. Skin was clear, muscles well toned. Teeth looked solid and reasonably white for a smoker.
“Not even for two Benjamins?” Bella smiled. “I got a thing for redheads.”
The redhead glanced at her two friends. “Go play somewhere else. I’ve got business.”
The two fist-bumped her and moved on.
“That your posse?” Bella asked with a disapproving stare after the two.
“You want to talk or you want to get down to business?” She shifted her weight to the other hip. “I got a room.”
“I have my own room.” She took the other woman’s hand. “I’ll take you there.”
Red glanced around the block. “You smell like a cop to me.”
Bella squeezed her hand. “Trust me. I’m not a cop and you’re safe with me.”
Red walked to the car with her. Bell
a opened the back door and they climbed in.
“Hey, I know you.” Red looked from Pierce to Bella. “What is this?” Fear glinted in her street-wary eyes.
“We only want to talk, Jasmine,” Bella assured her. “Answer our questions and you get the two hundred. That’s all we want. Answers.”
She exhaled a big breath. “Is this about Layla?”
“If you mean Audrey,” Pierce said, “that’s correct.”
“Is she okay?” She turned to Bella. “She was hurt real bad. I talked to her yesterday but I haven’t been able to reach her today.”
“Do you know who hurt her?” Bella kept her tone firm.
Red shook her head. “It was some private gig. She was promised big money for pretending to be some guy’s wife. She didn’t know she was going to end up in the hospital.” Jasmine blew out a big breath. “The guy almost killed her.”
“What guy?”
She shrugged. “She swears she never saw his face, but I’m not so sure I believe her. Anyway, he beat her up really bad.”
“She’s back in the hospital,” Pierce said. “She almost didn’t make it this time. She’s very ill.”
“Damn it. I told her not to trust the bastard. Anyone who won’t show his face can’t be trusted. I don’t care if he is rich. Rich people don’t care about people like us. We’re disposable. All he wanted was to use her and now she’s sick and hurt. Bastard.”
“What about her other friends?” Bella asked. “Would they know who the man was that hired her? Or where she’s been staying?”
Jasmine shook her head. “I promised I wouldn’t tell. I—”
“He’s not going to stop until she’s dead,” Bella warned. “Whoever he is, he won’t risk the possibility that Audrey remembers something about him. Please help us. For her sake. She’s your friend. If you want to help her, you need to help us.”
Jasmine exhaled a big breath. “After she skipped out of the hospital, she decided to lie low at Talia’s place over on Loomis.”
“Talia?” Bella prompted.
“Talia Loman. She lives in one of her father’s rental houses. He don’t have nothing to do with her but he can’t bear the thought of her living on the street. I don’t think she would have told Talia any more than she told me. I swear Audrey doesn’t know who the guy is. She didn’t even get a good look at him, but she did say he smelled real good, though. Expensive.”
Bella and Pierce exchanged a look.
“Have you heard from Talia in the past couple of days?”
Jasmine shook her head.
Bella dug a Sharpie from her bag. She reached for the other woman’s hand, wrote her cell number on her wrist. “If you remember anything, hear anything, let me know.” She gave her the two hundred-dollar bills.
“We appreciate your help,” Pierce said.
Jasmine shrugged. “’Kay.”
Pierce handed her three more one-hundred-dollar bills. “Take the night off and sleep in a good hotel.”
And all this time Devon Pierce tried to play it so cold. Like he had no feelings at all.
Liar.
Chapter Ten
Loomis Avenue, 2:20 p.m.
Bella beat on the door a third time.
“If she’s here,” Devon said, frustrated, “she’s not coming to the door.”
The small house was silent inside. Outside, the paint was peeling off the siding. Gutters sagged. A couple of windows were cracked, both covered with clear plastic. The grass and weeds were knee-deep. If not for the sagging ceiling-fan blades turning overhead on the small porch, Devon would swear the place was abandoned.
“We should check around back.”
Devon descended the porch steps behind her. His thoughts should be focused solely on finding his old friend Richard. Instead, he focused on the way the jeans Bella wore conformed to her amazing ass. He was losing control and she was the reason.
The grass was just as deep in the back. It hadn’t seen a lawn mower all season. A broken-down barbecue grill stood on the deck. A couple of abused plastic chairs and a large soup can overflowing with cigarette butts rounded out the outdoor decor.
Bella hurried up the steps and banged on the back door. By the time Devon stood next to her, she had already checked the windows. None had curtains and the old-fashioned roller blinds were only pulled halfway down. The window in the door was divided into nine small panes and revealed a kitchen beyond. No blood on the floor, no body.
“Whatever happened,” Devon suggested, “Ms. Loman has apparently gone into hiding.”
Bella pulled a glove from her pocket, slipped it on and wiggled the door as she leaned hard against it. “It would appear so,” she said casually, as if she weren’t doing all within her power to open the door.
When it didn’t budge, Devon took her by the shoulders and moved her aside. Even that harmless touch made his pulse react. He turned his back to the door and punched his jacket-clad elbow through one of the windowpanes. The old thin glass shattered.
Before he could do so, she carefully threaded her arm through the wood frame that once held the pane of glass now spread over the floor inside. Jagged pieces remained around the frame like hideous teeth, making the reach inside precarious.
Bella opened the door and stepped wide over the shattered glass. Devon followed, closing the door behind him.
“Ms. Loman?” she called. “Are you home?”
They moved slowly through the house. No smell of blood. Only the stench of cigarettes and stale beer lingered. The house was sparsely furnished. A well-worn chair and a dingy sofa in the living room. A table with mismatched chairs in the kitchen. A mattress lay on the floor in the first bedroom. No clothes in the closet.
Devon crouched down and looked more closely at what appeared to be a crimson stain in the center of the mattress. “Maynard may have slept here.”
“Looks like that’s all she left behind.”
The final bedroom had the mattress on the floor as well as a couple of boxes overflowing with unfolded clothes. No blood, no sign of the woman who lived here.
“Maybe she helped Maynard to the location where she was found.” Bella checked the closet, riffled through the four dresses hanging from the wooden dowel. “She likely recognized that her friend was very sick but needed her away from where she lived before the police were notified.”
“That’s what friends are for, right?” Devon commented. Frustration tightened his gut. How the hell did these people expect to get help if they didn’t report the trouble to the police?
Bella stared at him for a long moment. “Think about how the police are harassing you. How they make you feel in hopes of prompting a reaction. Imagine multiplying that a thousand times. These women are just trying to survive and most of the time they feel like no one is on their side.”
“I stand corrected,” he confessed. “I’ll see that the broken glass in the door is repaired immediately.” He withdrew his phone and sent a text to the man who took care of these sorts of issues at his own home. “Done.”
Bella walked out of the room. She found the broom and a page from a newspaper and cleaned up the glass. Devon tried to help but she shooed him away.
When he would have attempted another apology, his cell vibrated. Blocked call.
He showed the screen to Bella and then answered, placing the caller on speaker. “Pierce.”
“Dr. Pierce, I have information you might be interested in.”
Male. Sounded young.
“What sort of information?” Pierce asked. Bella nodded her approval.
“About your wife. You meet me with, say, ten thousand in hand and I’ll tell you what I know.”
Bella held her phone up for him to see. She had typed: You choose the time and place.
“Four thirty,” Devon said. “Lincoln Park Zoo at the seal pool.”
“Be sure you bring the money.”
“How will I recognize you?”
“I’ll recognize you.”
The caller severed the connection.
“Good choice.” Bella checked the time on her phone. “I’ll have my backup investigator watching. He can follow the guy from the zoo. Maybe we’ll learn something more that way.”
Devon waited on the deck while she locked the door with her gloved hand. “You have backup?” He shouldn’t be surprised. The Colby Agency was the best of the best.
“Lacon Traynor. He’s on call. If I need him, I let him know. For this, I’ll need him.”
“I guess we’re off to the zoo.”
He couldn’t wait to see what his enemy had up his sleeve this time.
Lincoln Park Zoo, 4:30 p.m.
THE CROWD WAS THICK.
Bella wished now that Pierce had chosen some other location. There were way too many children here for her comfort. Traynor had sent her a text with a selfie of his location. He was just down a few yards in the front row. She and Pierce had claimed front-row seats as well. Some people chose to stand as the training and the feeding of the seals started.
What she really wished was that he had allowed her to call Detective Corwin. The stakes in this case had grown way too dicey. This man they were meeting was guilty at the very least of extortion and perhaps far worse. At least two people related to this case were dead and another was gravely injured. Bella didn’t like this. She didn’t like it at all. But Pierce had insisted on doing this his way.
The children cheered and applauded as the seals clapped and barked for treats. A man in jeans, a khaki shirt and blue ball cap wandered over and sat down next to Pierce. Bella watched him from the corner of her eye. He had dark brown hair, and his eyes were concealed with sunglasses. The stubble on his chin could be a fashion statement or an indication of desperation. Judging by how wrinkled his shirt was, she concluded the latter. The money their mystery man had requested was in a bag they’d picked up in one of the shops. A T-shirt sporting the Lincoln Park Zoo logo concealed the bales of cash. The bag sat on the ground between them. Both she and Pierce wore zoo caps and sunglasses.