Damage: The Men of Law (The Men of Law Series Book 2)

by Casey Clipper

  “Excellent points,” Jason said proudly.

  “She’d be left lying there until Monday when she didn’t arrive to open up her salon,” Dean said. Hannah nailed it with the same conclusion the unit had. But, not having met up in the gathering room, they hadn’t formally pieced their findings together yet. “She’s closed on Sundays. It happened Saturday, late day.”

  “Why was she supposed to meet Steve?” Hannah asked.

  “He was going to inform her that he asked his current girlfriend to marry him. All true. We’ve spoken to the fiancée and have restaurant footage of Steve entering the place for their reservation and then leaving a half an hour after Josie didn’t show up.” Dean took a long pull from his beer.

  “Does he have an alibi before that time?” Jason asked.

  “He has a two-hour window where no one knows where he was.” Which was why Nick continued to suspect the ex.

  “Any other persons of interest?” Jason asked, taking a swig of his ale.

  “Her brother, Harry, has no alibi, except for after the time of the attack. His mother accidentally allowed it to slip that when she first noticed Harry come home, it’d been when he was in middle of taking a shower.”

  “Whoever attacked her would have to have gotten blood all over him,” Jason said. “If the scene was as bloody as Nick said.”

  “It was.” Dean sighed. “But we now have a third suspect.”

  “Who’s the third? The other twin?” Hannah asked.

  Dean shook his head. “No, David Conley checked out with solid dismissal from our list. He was working a double shift at the hospital. We have time clock verification and staff acknowledging they’d seen him throughout the day and into the evening.”

  Dean became more frustrated as he talked about the lack of concrete evidence they had in the case so far.

  “So who’s the other suspect?” Hannah asked.

  “A woman who’s been trying to get Josie to sell half of her business. One of Hannah’s employees. Though, we haven’t ruled out an obsessed customer, either. We have an entire list of people with questionable thank you cards to make contact with.” Dean closed his eyes, thinking of the grinding work they had ahead of them. If only there was such a thing as a cut and dry case.

  “Ah, Josie won’t sell, so eliminate her, hoping that she can then buy the business off the family?” Roy said, his voice growing a bit excited. “Except it was a man who attacked her, right?”

  “She could have hired someone,” Hannah suggested.

  Dean and Nick had discussed that possibility when they’d left the salon. They had Jordan work on getting a judge to get a warrant for Becky’s phone records. That would be a difficult one since they had no real evidence to solidify such a request.

  “So what do you want from us?” Jason asked, then straightening. “Or me, she’s sitting this out.”

  “Fuck you, Jason. I can do whatever it is they need me to.”

  “No,” Jason and Roy barked simultaneously.

  Hannah’s mouth dropped open. “Roy?”

  Dean didn’t want to get into the middle of this squabble, but he would side with his best friend on this one. No way would he be responsible for Hannah being put in danger while pregnant. He’d already lost one loved one in his life while she’d been carrying. He refused to watch his best friend be put in the same possible situation. His soul and conscience couldn’t handle such a loss, twice.

  “You’re too reckless when it comes to your well-being,” Roy snipped. “It’s not just you anymore. You’re pregnant and you’re married and you have me. It’s time to stop your over-the-top shenanigans and settle down.”

  “Actually, all we need is for David, Becky, and Steve to be followed. To get their movements and see what they’re up to. We don’t have enough men to put in shifts to see what they’re doing and where they’re going. We need eyes on them while this case is fresh and while they might make a mistake, giving us some sort of clue by where they visit,” Dean said, toying with the bottle in his hand. “That’s all. We aren't asking you to do anything else or get involved. We don’t want to jeopardize the case and have evidence thrown out by the courts.”

  Jason nodded. “I can do that.”

  “We can do that. I can sit in a damn car,” Hannah protested.

  “And what if one of the suspects that you’re watching catches onto you and gets violent. He’s already shown he has no problem with murder,” Jason snarled. “I’m putting my foot down on this one, Hannah. You will not risk your life or the life of my child because of some macho, female thing you’ve got going on.”

  An uncomfortable silence enveloped the living room. Roy shifted in the seat next to him. Dean’s eyes bounced from Jason to Hannah and back. Jason’s face hardened, unflinching. Hannah’s mouth popped open and closed, popped open again.

  “We’ll discuss this later,” she said with finality.

  “And I won’t change my damn mind.” Jason jerked off the sofa, marching out of the room.

  Dean let out a long, suffering breath. “He’s right, honey. You shouldn’t put yourself in any sort of danger.”

  “I can handle myself.”

  “No one would dare suggest otherwise. But Jason and that unborn baby and Roy need you more than this case does. Please, please, please, don’t start an unnecessary fight over this. Nick and I will figure out something. Jason can follow Steve and we’ll take shifts following the brother and the coworker. Roy can also do online digging into all three,” Dean said. His heart sank and a lump formed in his throat, choking him for what he was about to admit. “Hannah, Jason was by my side the day I lost Erin. He saw what it did to me. Can you blame him for being protective and not wanting to go through what he’s had to witness for five years?”

  Hannah’s gaze grew sympathetic and her fight visibly drained out of her. “I guess you’re right.”

  Dean looked away. “I know I am.”

  Because there was nothing more devastating than knowing you couldn’t protect the woman who owned your heart. Dean could and would never forgive himself for Erin’s untimely death.

  13

  Josie took in a deep breath and blurted, “I’m going to see a therapist.”

  Her mom slowly set down the pot roast she was about to place on the dinner table. “I think that’s a good idea.”

  “I made an appointment for tomorrow.” Josie fiddled with the silverware. “I’m not sure if it’ll work.”

  “But you should go and give it a try. I’m concerned for you, sweetheart. You had a panic attack inside a police car.”

  “It wasn’t a police car. It was Dean’s personal vehicle.”

  Her mom went to the kitchen and came back with dinner rolls. “Semantics. You still had an attack and needed an ambulance called. You won’t talk to me or your brothers about what’s going on, but you need to speak with someone and a professional is the best decision.”

  “I don’t want you three more worried than you already are. It’s stressful in the house.” That was putting it mildly. Harry came home last night in a foul mood and ended up breaking one of their mom’s vases in a wild fit. Over what, Josie was clueless. He’d caused Mom to cry and David to punch him for upsetting her, resulting in the two duking it out in a tumble to the living room floor. Both wound up with black eyes and bloody noses. Josie couldn’t even interfere because they were brutal with each other. She was impatient with her injury and the painstakingly long recovery time. She started physical therapy this morning, hoping that would help her fast forward the healing process. She even did online research and made out a new diet plan that included protein, orange fruits and vegetables, and increase her water intake. She was feeling better about getting around by herself, overcoming the little obstacles of the simplest of tasks like climbing stairs, picking up dropped objects, and putting on shoes.

  The good thing about her doctor’s appointment this morning, she was cleared to drive. Thank goodness. She couldn’t handle the unneeded stress of
finding rides. Add in the whole panic attack debacle, driving was the best news she’d had in a while.

  “You don’t worry about your brothers and me. I’ll take care of the twins.” Her mom continued to display the food for dinner. Typical. When she was anxious, her mom busied herself with consuming tasks she could throw herself into. Like cooking, baking, sewing, cleaning. The house sparkled, Christmas cookies went out to all the neighbors, and new curtains hung in the dining room.

  “I’m going to go out for a few minutes. I’ll be back soon.” Josie needed to get out of the house. Her mom stopped and straightened. Many people stated she was a striking resemblance to her mother, who she considered to be one of the most beautiful women she knew. But Josie didn’t see it, especially now as her mom’s disappointment crossing over her features, her eyes shooting to the meal.

  “What about dinner?”

  “I’m not very hungry right now and I need to apologize to Detective Rooney,” she said, shame taking up residence.

  Her mom quickly masked her disappointment. “All right. If you’re not back by the time we’re finished, the food will be in the fridge in containers.”

  “I won’t be long.” Josie grabbed her purse and keys and rushed out the door, as quickly as she was capable, before she changed her mind.

  ***

  Ten minutes later, Josie stepped through bullet proof glass doors, into the bustling police department. Uniformed officers bypassed her on their way in and out. She approached the front desk. A good-looking older man, maybe in his late fifties, looked up and eyed her suspiciously. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m here to see Detective Rooney.” She shifted on her feet.

  “Is he expecting you, Miss…?”

  “Conley. Josie Conley.”

  His face registered recognition of her name. He picked up the phone receiver next to him and called back to Dean.

  “He’ll be up in a minute.” The officer’s tone was far less harsh than when he’d first spoken to her.

  She nodded and pointed to the bench against the far wall. “I’m going to sit.”

  “You need anything? You’re looking a bit peaked there.”

  “Maybe some water?”

  He picked up the phone again and barked an order to someone on the other line. His tone so demanding, even she almost jumped to his military type order.

  A couple minutes ticked by as she watched the hustling precinct, the officers going about their daily business. She caught sight of Detective Rooney sauntering from the back, a bottle of water in his right hand. He wasn’t dressed in his normal suit attire. Instead, he wore a pair of jeans that fit just snug enough, conforming, but not obscene, and a black zip up jacket that hung open over a black T-shirt. His black athletic shoes and mussed hair suggested he didn’t intend on being in the office long, if at all.

  She bolted up, pain ripping through her stomach, causing an onset of dizziness. Her hand flew out to catch herself as she plopped back onto the bench.

  Dean shoved the bottle at her. “Take a drink. You look pale.”

  Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t eaten much. Skipping dinner might not have been the best plan. She gulped down the water, her dry mouth relishing the cool liquid coating her throat.

  “Sorry,” she said when she finally finished half the bottle. “I forgot to eat today.”

  Dean frowned. “How could you forget to eat?”

  “I’ve had a few doctor appointments and have been on the phone making other appointments.” She watched the front desk officer shake his head in silent rebuke.

  “I’m not keeping you from leaving am I?” She motioned to his clothes.

  He grinned, his features lightening, his hazel eyes bright, flaunting a bit of mischief in them. He truly was handsome. “Not at all. I’m not officially on duty today.”

  “Oh, god, I’m so sorry.”

  He held up his hand. “Please stop apologizing. Feeling better?”

  She nodded.

  He straightened, holding out his palm. “Come, let me feed you.”

  “No, that’s okay.”

  “I insist. We’ll go to a nice little restaurant across the street.” He pointed through the large glass door.

  Josie blindly followed his lead. His large hand engulfed hers, warmth seeping into her palm and up her arm. When they stepped into the restaurant, Dean kept his hold as the hostess showed them to a corner table toward the rear. In an old-school gentlemanly manner, he held out the chair for her to sit. She slid into the seat, slightly taken aback. Men just didn’t hold out chairs any more.

  Dean smoothly slipped into the seat across from her.

  “I’ve never eaten here.” She felt the need to fill the silence that had developed between them. Dean had remained quiet the entire three minutes. Not that she was uncomfortable. How could she be around Dean? He oozed a sexy confidence that pushed outward naturally. He probably had women and men gravitate toward him without recognizing why.

  He gave her a lopsided grin. “I do, too often. This place is why I have to spend hours at the gym.”

  She automatically scanned his physique, and quickly looked away, her face growing hot.

  Josie took in their surroundings. The restaurant clearly had been around for a few years. The pictures that hung on the dark red walls showed age in the beat up frames and yellowed photos of the Pittsburgh skyline, famous landmarks, and the precinct across the street with officers and their patrol cars throughout the decades. The red glass centerpieces with oil candles gave away they’d been around the block a time or two. The white table linens were clean but worn, their once previous bright color now having a slight washed-out, flaxen tint. The blood red carpet showed its wear and tear down the center aisle where customers entered. A heavy, old smell of fried food mixed with potent spices saturated the air. Yet the place had only a couple empty tables—most of the clientele officers or men and women in suits, woofing down their meals.

  The waitress approached, took their drink order and rushed off. Josie perused the menu, deciding on something light−a grilled chicken salad. When the young woman, a blonde in her early twenties, returned and took their food order, she flirtatiously batted her black-painted lashes at Dean, giggling like a high school girl when he joked about the meatloaf special. Why did she not like witnessing the interaction? She found herself shooting an unreasonable glare the woman’s direction. A notable pang of jealously rocketed through her. She tamped it down, irritated with herself that she’d allow such an unwelcome feeling peek up from its fox hole.

  When the waitress left, Dean’s beautiful eyes focused on her. “How have you been? You’re moving better than when I saw you a week ago.”

  “Okay.” She was glad the girl was gone, yet still seething from her own reaction. She shook off her crusty attitude. “I’m finally allowed to drive, which is a huge relief. Things are too stressful at my mom’s house and asking her or one of the twins for rides isn’t ideal any longer. So the release came just in time.”

  Dean’s eyes turned arctic. “Are you having problems with your brothers?”

  “No, well, maybe. Harry’s so angry all the time. We never know what’ll set him off. Him and David ended up in a brawl in the living room the last night. I think he’s taking the attack harder than he’s willing to admit,” she said, placing the red linen napkin on her lap.

  “Hmmm.” Was Dean’s response.

  She tilted her head, waiting for him to comment further, but nothing came. She watched him unwrap his silverware, entranced by the motions of his hands. They were large but not bulky. His fingers were long with a callused pointer and thumb on his right hand. They were actually lovely. He didn’t wear a wedding band, not even a mark of one that maybe he took off while at work.

  “Are you married?” she blurted, then gasped in horror. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. That was completely inappropriate.”

  His shocked expression didn’t help her embarrassment. He blinked a couple times, glanced down at
his ring finger, then took a deep breath, schooling his shoulders. “No, I’m not.”

  But he had been. No man, who had never been married, would look to his bare finger for a missing ring. Was he divorced? Did it end badly? Why did she care?

  She didn’t. She couldn’t. She had enough issues on her plate, let alone get wrapped up in a handsome detective. What the hell had come over her? Was she officially losing her faculties? That could be the only reasonable explanation.

  “I’m so very sorry.”

  He shook his head, his lips curling upward. “Don’t be. But why would you ask?”

  She shrugged, not knowing the true answer to that question herself. “You’re sitting at a restaurant with a woman. If you were married or engaged or dating, that would be odd.”

  “Not really.” He pushed up the sleeves of his fleece, revealing muscular forearms. Her eyes flicked to his bare arms, this time the muscles not sending her into a fit of terror. She reminded herself Dean would protect her, not try to destroy her. “You’re someone we’re working with who needs nutrition. I’m hungry. So here we are.”

  Disappointment surrounded her. Again, she was a case file to him. Why couldn’t she stay on task and remind herself of that fact? It would keep her from the wandering brain syndrome she was currently suffering from. She fiddled with her own silverware, purposefully readjusting the napkin on her lap, avoiding eye contact. Why did she allow his words to sting?

  “Hey,” he said, knocking on the table. He pointed his finger, making a circular motion. “What’s going on here?”

  She chuckled nervously. How easily it was for her to forget his job relied on him being observant.

  “No, no. No laughing. Can’t have that. What’s going on?” he teased, picking up his coffee, taking a long sip.

  “Nothing.”

  “Such a lie that I can see it from a mile away. But I’ll let it go and blame it on severe hungeritis,” he said, winking.

  Josie grinned, unable to help herself. He had a sense of humor. One she hadn’t noticed or he hadn’t shown to date. She envisioned him cracking jokes on a Sunday morning as he prepared breakfast, or watching football with his buddies. She could see him going to a comedy or action movie and totally getting into the flick, making his own wisecracks. Or hanging out with family, friends, and neighbors on a Saturday, barbecuing and relaxing with a couple beers. That vision, for some reason, included her by his side. Holding hands, leaning onto his shoulder, him wrapping a protective arm around her waist. Kissing the top of her head. He was so much taller than her, she’d fit snug into his body, wrapped up in his warmth.