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

by Casey Clipper

  Josie crumbled to the ground, her legs giving out. Dean followed her to the floor. His admission was so sincere, so heartfelt, so soul opening, how could she ever deny him? Maybe they could help each other. Maybe they could lean on each other to work through their issues. She had plenty and Dean seemed to understand how to handle her delicately. Dean had a room full of penitence but she couldn’t blame him. She didn’t want to replace his wife or his son. She just wanted to be loved by him. That wasn’t asking a lot from him or herself or the universe, right?

  “Will you give us, give me, a chance?” he whispered, the ache pouring out of his voice.

  “Yes.”

  31

  Dean took Josie’s hand into his, leading her down the walking trail, then over the cold, hard grass. Winter had finally decided to rear its ugly head to Pittsburgh, a light dusting of snow covering the ground. Later, a storm predicted to bring around six inches of snow was expected to hit the area.

  They walked with purpose, Dean wanting to bring Josie to meet his wife before he changed his mind. He stopped in front of Erin’s gravestone, the tree he had planted next to the one his mother-in-law brought in its red foil-wrapped pot, still going strong.

  “It’s beautiful,” Josie said quietly.

  Dean had chosen a gray, heart shaped marker with a tint of red that represented his wife’s beauty and tenacity. He’d taken his time with his choice all those years ago. Between him and his mother-in-law, the piece of stone never grew dirty and weeds never sprouted around the site.

  He didn’t know how Josie might take to him talking to Erin. He found himself having one-sided conversations every time he came to see her. Because he could feel her presence, he wanted to acknowledge that he knew she was there. He was about to introduce Josie, when he got caught off guard.

  “Can I talk to her?” Josie asked.

  His head snapped to her, surprised. “What?”

  “Can I speak with her?” She fiddled with her winter coat. “Do you mind?”

  He shook his head.

  “Privately?”

  He blinked. She wanted to be alone with Erin? He didn’t know whether to fall to his knees and thank God she’d come into his life or consider she might be as nuts as he was. “Okay.”

  “I’ll only be a minute.”

  He nodded, kissed her cheek, and went back to the paved trail, to give her some space. He ran a hand over his jaw, looking up at the dark, gray sky—a threat of the weather to come. He was about to look over his shoulder but stopped himself. What could Josie possibly be saying to his dead wife? Was she really that accepting of the damaged history that came with him? Yes, he’d begged Josie to be patient with him. To give him a chance. Meanwhile, deep down, he doubted that she would. Or eventually would walk away. Part of him was prepared for her departure. Because he was a broken man. A man who didn’t know if he could fully return to his old self. Or even become a different man, one who could wholly love another woman. Was he short-changing the love that Josie deserved? He was being completely selfish, he recognized that much. Maybe he should walk away. Maybe he should encourage her to find a better man. One who didn’t have a sordid recent history or one who was fully capable of loving a woman with every ounce of his being.

  His phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and answered. “What’s going on, Nick?”

  “We have a problem.”

  “What?”

  “Josie’s brother. I found a connection. It’s a bit loose but we’re digging deeper.”

  Dean spun to find Josie kneeling on the ground, in a full discussion with the headstone. Hands gesturing as she spoke. “What connection?”

  “Josie’s brother, Harry. He’s been making trips to Ohio lately.”

  Dean perked up. “Jason and Mr. Campbell went to Ohio not that long ago.”

  “Yeah, they found the connection as to why.” A rustling of papers came through the phone and Nick yelled at Jordan to get him a new file. “Harry has been spending time in a house in Ohio. Weekend trips. Not too far but in an area where he might do business or be looking for a new job.”

  Dean’s hair prickled on the back of his neck, anticipating the bomb that he knew was coming.

  Josie fingered the two evergreen trees, her voice a low murmur carrying in the cold breeze.

  “The house is older but maintained. When Jason and Mr. Campbell watched the home, they didn’t see anyone but Harry coming and going.”

  “Renting?”

  “That’s something they considered. But they dug. You know detectives and PIs.”

  Dean snorted.

  “Harry is renting the house on the weekends.”

  “Odd, considering he’s in a huge amount of debt. Normal people try to cut back on their bills and expenses. How long has been renting the place?” Dean began to pace in a small section. Back and forth, consistent glances over his shoulder to Josie, at the area surrounding them.

  “For a year,” Nick said. “Here’s the kicker. The house is owned by Rocco Conrad.”

  “Who the hell is that?”

  “He’s Becky’s deceased husband.”

  Dean stopped and spun to Josie, the bottom dropping out. “What?”

  “We don’t know if the connection is circumstantial. Jason, Mr. Campbell, and Hannah have been watching the house for weeks now and there has been absolutely no sign of her. They’ve even followed Harry when he leaves and he’s not met anyone. Just goes to lunch at the same diner Saturday and Sunday, goes to dinner at the same chain restaurant, and visits a bar on Friday and Saturday nights. He returns home on Sundays,” Nick said.

  “There is no such thing circumstantial connection, Nick. You know it. They’re connected in some way.” Suddenly pieces began to shape. “Have they followed him into the restaurants and bars? Have they gotten close to the house?”

  “Jason and Mr. Campbell have been to the restaurants and bars. Hannah is too recognizable, unable to blend.”

  That was an understatement. “How the hell did Hannah manage to get herself involved?”

  He could practically see Nick roll his eyes through the phone at the sarcasm that dripped through. “Hannah's an expert persuader.”

  “Have they gotten near him?”

  “He always eats at the bars of the restaurants and while seated he speaks with the bartenders the entire time. They’ve never been able to get close enough to hear the discussions,” Nick answered.

  “This explains why he wants to talk to Josie so badly. He’s been cryptic. Guilty conscience?”

  “It’s a far leap from renting a house from a person of interest to attempted murder. You know that. We have zero proof.”

  “But you believe in the connection or else you wouldn’t be fucking contacting me with this information,” his tone going glacial. “When did you find this out?”

  “Ten minutes ago. Jason, Mr. Campbell, and Hannah handed me separate reports. Hannah drew stick figures that flipped me off on hers. What the hell was I thinking asking for her help?” Nick sighed.

  “We need proof.” Dean looked at the woman who had stolen his heart. Who had woken him from years of depression and self-loathing. How the hell did he tell her what they suspected but not overwhelm her with the distressing news that her brother may in fact, have been the one to try and kill her?

  “Come in. We’re going to sit down with Jordan and Chief and map this out,” Nick said. “Be here by five.”

  Nick disconnected. Dean shoved his phone into his pocket. “Fuck.”

  He marched up to Josie, who stood as he approached.

  “I just finished. I think we’ll get along fabulously,” she said, smiling with a glint in her eye.

  Dean tilted his head, unsure if she was mocking him or just trying to lighten the situation.

  Josie giggled. “Dean, relax. I understand why you brought me here. I know what Erin means to you and I would never try to replace her or make you forget her. She was your first love. Your true love. And she died horrifically and to
o soon. I can never take away that pain and I get that. I hope you understand that. And I suspect that’s why you brought me here today.”

  Dean let out a long breath, blinking back the sting of the cold that hit his hot eyes. He glanced at the grave marker, realizing that his Erin’s features had become more distant to him as of late. He couldn’t see her clearly any longer when he thought of her. He had to concentrate to remember the little scar in her eyebrow line or the line of freckles that ran across her nose. When he would try to conjure up her image, the first person that appeared was Josie. Dean didn’t want to forget his Erin but he also didn’t want to cling to her any longer. Because it was a slow, torturous death that ate away at his soul. He wanted a life besides getting up from a nightly bender and going into work. And he wanted it all with Josie, because she got him. She’d captured his heart.

  Dean kissed her on the forehead, resting his chin on top of her head, wrapping his arms around her. “Oh, Josie. You have no idea how much you’ve saved me.”

  Josie embraced him, snuggling into his arms. His woman, safe and secure, hanging onto him. It had been too long since he’d been able to relish the feeling.

  ***

  Dean read Hannah’s reporting, shaking his head, irritated while simultaneously humored. The woman was a ball buster. But her report nagged him. He’d read it numerous times, trying to figure out what he was missing. There was a link there that he couldn’t place.

  Hannah had broken into the rented home. Of course she did. She was pregnant but that didn’t stop her second nature of breaking and entering. Nope, not Hannah Campbell. The area’s best jewelry thief who could get away with crimes because of her mob ties.

  He browsed the notations Hannah had made. She’d snapped pictures of random objects that didn’t mean much to her but she understood they might mean a break in the case. A green Mountain Bear rain jacket, a stack of fishing magazines, empty beer cans, the inside of the bare refrigerator, the back porch swing, paint cans inside the garage, the money on the dresser in an upstairs bedroom. Picture after picture of random objects. Including dozens of yellowed newspaper clippings from five years ago about Erin’s accident and death, all tacked to a wall in a disturbing collage. It had taken Dean a few minutes to push past the initial shock when Nick had shown him the pictures. Why the hell had Harry collected those articles?

  “I’m missing something,” Dean murmured. “What is it?”

  Nick was looking over the reports and tapped on a picture. “Did you see this spot on the back porch of Harry’s rental? It’s a partial boot footprint in paint. A brown-gray color.”

  Jordan clicked his pen over and over. “Where’s the list of potentially missing items from Josie’s home?”

  Nick pushed a folder across the table.

  Dean stretched his neck to look at the boot print.

  “I hate to give Hannah credit for these pictures, but something is here. I know it. I’m just missing it.” Dean grew frustrated. He wasn’t putting the puzzle pieces together.

  Jordan jumped up from his seat, the chair flying backward, and rushed out of the room.

  “Where the hell is he going?” Nick mumbled, still absorbed in the photo.

  Dean pointed to the coat. “Where have I seen this name brand before?”

  Nick glanced over. “That’s a hunting store chain. Popular in Pennsylvania, Ohio, West Virginia, Kentucky, and Virginia¬”

  Dean jumped up, scrambling for the folder, yanking out the evidence they had, including the picture of the knife found at the scene. “Shit!”

  He held up the close-up picture of the knife handle that had the name stamped into the side. Mountain Bear.

  Nick held up his hand. “That’s circumstantial. There are so many of those knives out there.”

  Dean glared. “That’s good enough for me.”

  “You’re not thinking clearly. We need more.”

  Jordan burst into the room, Chief on his heels.

  “Butler, I’m about to suspend your ass for going behind my back and hiring Campbell and his thief of a wife,” Chief barked, his face crimson, his jaw flexing, and a vein popping on his forehead.

  They ignored their boss.

  Jordan slapped the mugshot of Becky onto the table and pointed. “Check out her earrings. They’re mostly hidden behind her hair.”

  They all leaned over. Crystals dangled from silver strings that hung off her ears. They could barely be seen but could be made out if looking closely. Jordan pulled a photo Hannah had taken that Dean hadn’t looked at yet. A picture of underneath the bed. A picture of a bracelet that was similar in style to the earrings in Becky’s ears.

  “How did we miss this?” Nick demanded. “Who booked her?”

  “Jones.” One of the two rookies. Damn it.

  “Why the hell didn’t one of you assist?” Chief railed. “What the fuck is going on with this team?”

  It was Dean’s fault. He’d been too focused on Josie’s well-being, her health and mental stability, leaving Nick and Jordan severely short-handed. But his LEO brothers wouldn’t throw him under the bus. They just exchanged knowing glances, all of their faces set in hard lines.

  Dean’s pulse increased, his blood pumping in his veins. He scanned the pictures, thinking there was something more. Something else that they weren’t catching.

  Chief picked up the picture of the boot marking, pointed to a spot on the flimsy paper. “Isn’t this the same color as Miss Conley’s front deck? Didn’t she just have that painted at the time?”

  Holy hell. Dean whipped out the picture of the paint cans. He needed to know the color of the paint that Josie had chosen for her deck. He pulled out his cell and dialed her number. The phone rang and rang and rang, going to voicemail. A sense of dread blanketed him, causing his knees to buckle.

  “Rooney?” Chief asked quizzically.

  Dean’s eyes swung up, fear embroiling him, taking hold. “Josie.”

  Dean raced out of the building, Nick and Jordan on his heels, yelling after him.

  32

  Josie found herself dusting the bottom floor of Dean’s house, trying to rid the staleness that saturated the air. Rag in hand, she wiped down the television stand and moved to the shelf that housed pictures of Dean and Erin. She picked up one, staring at the gorgeous red-head. She was a tall woman, her bright smile lighting up the entire photograph. The way her hand laid on Dean’s chest and how he held her proudly, tucked into his side, love emanated from the picture. A twinge of angst went through her. What if Dean never felt the same about her? What if Dean could never fully open his heart to her?

  She shook off the dark thought. She needed to stop with the self-doubt and talking herself out of the course she wanted her life to take. With Dean. She wasn’t doing them any favors by contributing to his insecurity of his past. She needed to be the positive one, sure of their relationship.

  The doorbell rang. Josie spun toward the door, staring at it as if she could see who was on the other side. No one was expected to stop by. Dean hadn’t told her they were to have company this evening.

  She went to the door and peered out the peep hole, surprised to find Hannah standing on the doorstep.

  Josie swung the door open. Cold and wisps of flurries rushed in. In the glow of the streetlamps, the falling snow was breathtaking. Inches already blanketed the suburban neighborhood in a picture portrait scene. “Hannah, what are you doing here?”

  “My car skidded into a ditch a couple blocks down. I called Jason and he’s having a conniption. Dean’s house wasn’t far. I told him I’d walk here to calm him. Can I come in?” She stomped her high-heeled boot-clad feet on the stoop.

  “Yes, yes. I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”

  “I am. Thanks.” Hannah stepped into the house, shaking the snow off her black hat. The quick falling powder already dusted over her footprints on the sidewalk. “I had no idea it would get that bad that fast. I had to buy groceries. Jason has been gone for a couple days and I managed to
hold off on shopping. Well, only because I visited Dairy Queen numerous times. The baby likes Oreo blizzards.”

  She shrugged out of her jacket and Josie blinked. “You’re showing,” she said, delighted.

  “I know! It’s like overnight the baby decided to pop out.” Hannah smiled, running a hand over her small bump.

  And naturally the woman was stunning. She didn’t have an ounce of fat on her except for the slightly round belly that showed. Was she supposed to be wearing heels?

  Josie shut the door. “I didn’t realize how much had fallen. I’ve been cleaning.”

  “Well then, I’m doing you a service by interrupting you.” Hannah laid her coat on the back of the sofa and sunk into the cushions.

  “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Water would be fine, thanks,” Hannah said, taking off her hat. “I did get a bit parched while trying to navigate the roads. I shouldn’t have gone back out once I got home earlier. Jason’s going to strangle me.”

  Hannah’s phone rang. She held it up, shaking the device. “See, my husband having a coronary.” She answered the phone. “I’m at Dean’s, honey. Calm down.”

  Josie went to the kitchen. She could understand Jason’s nerves. Dean had told Josie that his best friend had been with him when they’d driven up on the scene of Erin’s accident. She bet the images were as fresh in his mind as they were in Dean’s.

  She went back to the living room.

  “I won’t go anywhere.” Hannah paused. “I promise.” Pause. “Yes.” Pause. “Love you, too. See you in a bit.”

  Josie handed her the bottle.

  “Jason’s going to be coming over when he’s finished at the police station,” Hannah said.

  She cocked her head. “Why’s he at the station?”

  “Don’t know exactly. He won’t tell me because he’s afraid I’ll get too involved. Again.” Hannah finger quoted. “Though I already am. I mean, I’ve done surveillance.”