Crime Of The Heart

by Allie Harrison

  Lee was worried about her. When he and Erin had lived together, and even before then, when they had only been dating, he’d seen her face many things—threats of bodily harm and other physical dangers that went along with the life of a gutsy reporter. But he’d never seen her like this before. Or was there something else that he didn’t know about, something he couldn’t see?

  He wished he could help her. But he had to face the fact he couldn’t, wouldn’t, not without getting close to her, not without putting his own emotions, his very heart—again—on the chopping block for her. And he wouldn’t take that chance.

  What was it she’d said when she left? That she couldn’t bear the idea of opening the door in the middle of the night to find someone standing there, waiting to tell her he wasn’t ever coming home again? He couldn’t remember her exact words, but that was pretty damned close.

  Turning away, Lee tried to force the thought aside as he headed back to the desk. Because the top of the desk had been cleared, it was easy to pull down the lid, leaving just enough room to squeeze his arm inside. Reaching up, he felt for the envelope that was taped there and pulled it free. Rolling the lid back up, he left the large brown envelope lying on the desk and went to the kitchen, leaving Erin straightening the sofa cushions.

  Lee found a second brown envelope taped inside the oven. Returning to the living room, he stopped just inside the doorway and watched Erin, his heart in his throat, threatening to choke him.

  She was on her knees, holding that silly, broken Cupid as though it was the most precious thing on earth. But what grabbed him most was the fact that there were tears coursing down her cheeks. She was crying again.

  Lee had only seen her cry three times. The first time was the night in the guest house when he’d made love to her for the first time. She’d been almost twenty-one and a virgin. He thought he’d hurt her and that was the reason for the tears. “I’ve hurt you,” he’d said, his voice rough, his throat tight. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”

  But she’d only held him tighter, seeming to wrap her entire body around him. “Please don’t stop, Lee. Don’t let me go. Don’t stop loving me....”

  The second time, he’d seen the tears only in her eyes. If they ever reached her cheeks, she’d already gone out of the room and down the corridor of the hospital after he told her to get out.

  The third time, of course, had been in his kitchen hardly more than two hours ago. All three times he could understand.

  Now, in the middle of her father’s living room there were full-fledged tears on her face, and Lee felt a stabbing pain in his chest at seeing them. Mostly because he couldn’t understand her crying over that Cupid. Not when so many other irreplaceable things lay in pieces about the floor.

  For a moment, he couldn’t move, even though he would have liked to back out of the room and leave her to her crying alone. But his brain couldn’t seem to send the message to his feet.

  Erin stared down at the broken Cupid, a tiny crystal figure that had appeared on Lee’s nightstand the same night Erin had moved in with him. It had remained next to the bed they shared, always with its arrow pointed toward the two of them. Erin hadn’t been gone two hours when Lee had noticed the figure was gone, too.

  Silently and swiftly, she slipped the Cupid into the pocket of her jacket.

  Lee blinked and tried to force a much-needed breath into the tightness of his chest. Hell, he wished he hadn’t seen her do that. He wished he never had to know just how much that stupid piece of broken glass meant to her. But he did. And it made keeping his distance from her all that much harder.

  Now he was afraid to move at all, afraid that the only direction he could make his uncooperative legs go was toward her until he was close enough to sweep her into his arms.

  She still didn’t know he was there, that he was watching her as she absently stacked a few magazines and newspapers that littered the area around her. When he cleared his throat to get her attention, she started slightly, looking up at him. Just as quickly, she turned away and wiped the traces of tears from her cheeks. Lee pretended not to notice.

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “It’s all right she said. ”I guess all of this has just made me jumpy.”

  Her voice was a little shaky, but Lee pretended he didn’t notice it, either. “I found your stuff. Is this all of it?”

  “Yes,” she replied. Finished with her stacking, she pushed herself to her feet

  “I could have come for this by myself, Erin.”

  “I came to you for protection, Lee. That’s all. I don’t need you to be my gofer.” She paused. “I have to face this. I can’t just close my eyes and hope it all disappears.”

  “I know,” he said, wishing she was wrong. “Do you want to stay here and clean up the rest of this?” he asked, setting the second envelope on the desk on top of the first. “I could help you if you want.”

  For a long moment, she didn’t reply. He turned back around to find her gently placing a framed photograph of her mother on the mantel. The glass was broken, but the frame and the photo were still intact. Erin looked more lost than ever. Slowly, she lifted her gaze to meet his, and again he took in the tears filling her eyes, making them look like large green pools.

  “Please just take me home, Liam. I just want to go home.”

  The fact that she’d called him Liam, when everyone else he knew just called him Lee, didn’t register until later, after he got over the pleading, lost expression on her face—as well as the fact that she still referred to his house as home.

  Chapter 3

  After Erin had gathered together some clothes, Lee took her home just as she asked. His home, even though it hadn’t really felt much like home to him without her these past months. It was just a stopping place, a place where he could prop up his leg and rest for a while until he ventured back out into the world or to his next therapy session.

  Still, it was home, the only one he knew. Heading there now, he had to concentrate on his driving. It was raining again and large drops were splattering the windshield. Instead of watching Erin, he kept a watchful eye on the rearview mirror, checking for anyone who might be following them. When he did glance her way, he found her staring straight ahead, looking as pale and lost as before.

  Lee gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white to keep from slamming his palm against it. He needed to do something to release the surge of hot anger that was racing through him. Anger at the vicious creep who was doing this to Erin. At the same time, Lee felt an icy cold, as though the damp chill of the air had somehow settled deep within him where nothing could reach it and warm him. He recognized it as the icy cold of terror. For Erin. A terror he hadn’t known since the bullets whizzed into his leg, shattering his life and changing him forever. Like the terror he’d felt as he lay there waiting, unable to move, knowing the thug with the gun was going to come close enough to finish him off.

  He gripped the steering wheel even harder to keep from reaching out and taking Erin’s hand. But whether it was to comfort her or himself, he no longer knew.

  Uncertainty as to what he should do next grabbed hold of him, mixing with the feelings of fear and rage. And to top it all off, he had a healthy dose of desire.

  Not just the casual desire a man might experience when seeing a pretty woman on the street. No, this was something verging on the brink of hot, primal need. The same need that drove primitive man thousands of years ago to drag the object of their lust into the nearest cave and ravish her. Yet there was also the urge to take her in his arms and give her the comfort he knew she needed. And it was getting harder and harder to fight it. He seemed to need to hold her as much as she needed him to hold her. And why the urge should overwhelm him now, he didn’t know. Nor did he know how to ignore it or resist it.

  “It’s been a long day. Let’s get something to eat,” he said, trying to take his mind off this need of her.

  For a long m
oment, Erin didn’t answer, and Lee wondered if she was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard him. Hell, she looked so far away, he thought for a moment he was going to have to reach out and touch her after all, just to get her attention.

  “I don’t really feel like eating,” she muttered finally, without looking at him.

  Lee could feel her pulling away from him, distancing herself from the rest of the world in order to make herself feel more secure. He’d seen countless other victims do the same thing. With her brief response and toneless voice, she’d managed to add another row of bricks to the wall between them.

  He should be glad, he told himself. He should just let her drift farther and farther away. If he couldn’t reach her, then he’d be safe from her. So why didn’t he let her go?

  “Okay,” he said, forcing his voice lighter, wishing more than anything he could get his hands on the guy doing this to her so he could tear him to pieces. “You have until we get home to decide what you want.”

  He glanced at her again, suddenly glad she was staring straight ahead. He didn’t want to see that lost look in her lovely eyes. Even thinking about it seemed to burn a hole right through his soul.

  Telling himself again that he wasn’t going to get close to her, that he wasn’t going to let her get close enough to him to capture his heart, he found it was already happening despite the wall she was putting up. Just seeing her like this was doing it to him. And he couldn’t stop it, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he wished he could.

  For a long time after she’d left, he wanted only to have her back in his life. But then, he’d sworn never to need her again, and had spent months convincing himself of that. And now she was close enough for him to smell her and feel the warmth of her body. But he didn’t want her like this. Despite the way she’d hurt him, he didn’t want her to be hurt or feel such fear.

  He’d seen the way she slipped the Cupid into her pocket. And she’d called him Liam. He thought she might as well have used that broken figurine to slice away a large chunk of his heart.

  Lee forced himself to stop this train of thought. It was getting him nowhere. “Tell me what he looked like,” he said, trying to keep his tone neutral, trying to make this nothing but business.

  “Who?” Erin asked.

  He felt her glance over at him, but he didn’t take his eyes off the road to meet her gaze.

  “The guy who killed your informant. What was his name, Jenkins?”

  “Yes,” she replied, sounding stronger.

  Maybe this was what she needed all along, he decided. To talk about the case, keep her mind on the “job.” “So what did the killer look like? How well did you see him?”

  “I saw him about as well as can be expected on a dark night. He was tall and muscular with dark hair. And I think he had a pockmarked face,” she said.

  Millions of people could answer to that description, Lee thought. “And you gave the description to Burger and Reece?” he asked.

  “Of course I did. I even spent an evening searching through several mug books, but never found him.”

  “Was there anything at all distinctive about him?” Lee persisted, trying not to sound too happy now that he was drawing her out of her shell. “Perhaps something he was wearing?”

  “I don’t know. It happened so quickly, and it’s funny what details hit you, what sticks with you. I remember he was wearing a suit and tie, looking more like some kind of businessman. And at the same time, I can’t tell you much about his hair—if it was long or short, whatever. I just recall it was dark. I can still picture the way he seemed to come right out of the darkness. I was so scared, Lee. I didn’t know what to do,” she explained.

  Lee could just imagine her hiding behind the crates, unable to keep from watching despite the horror of the scene. He realized he was holding her hand, but couldn’t remember moving to take it. He wouldn’t think about having her hand in his. He would think about the case, keep her talking about the matter at hand.

  “Where do you suppose he took Jenkins?” he asked. Although he had a pretty good idea.

  “Somewhere out in the lake where he could dump him and never have to worry about anyone finding him, I imagine,” she replied. Lee was thinking the same thing. “But my word saying it happened isn’t enough evidence to bring in divers. Besides, where would they start? I don’t even know for certain Jenkins’s body was dumped in the lake.”

  “So tell me what you know about this Forest Burke,” Lee said.

  “Well, no one has ever been able to pin anything on him. He has no criminal record. He’s immaculate. Before he was killed, Jenkins mentioned stolen art, and Burke has been known to have these huge art auctions. But there’s never any evidence left behind to show anything illegal ever takes place,” she explained. “I know that none of this means Burke was behind any of my problems, but I think it was too much of a coincidence that as soon as Burke’s name was mentioned, terrible things started happening to me. Jenkins must have known Burke. I’m not sure exactly how yet. But I think Burke made sure Jenkins’s body would never be found so there’d be nothing to lead anyone to suspect Burke.”

  It made sense to Lee, but they had no proof about any of it.

  Erin stopped talking as though she’d said all she had to say. Lee sensed she’d put the wall back up again.

  He pulled into his driveway, feeling more drained than ever. He’d like to take one of the pills in his medicine cabinet that would kill the pain in his leg for the next twenty-four hours. But it wasn’t that pain he wanted to get rid of. No, this pain was closer to his soul, and it was getting worse every time he looked at the woman beside him.

  Shutting off the engine, he didn’t let go of her hand. She felt so cold.

  “We’re going to figure this one out, Erin,” he said softly. Whether it was to convince her or himself, he really had no idea. But he knew they had to start somewhere. “We’re going to find the answers to all the questions and we’re going to get through this.”

  She turned to look at him, her eyes large and moist and dark green against her pale face.

  “You said you trusted me,” he went on. “Do you still?”

  “Yes,” she replied firmly. “Yes, Liam, I do. So what’s next?”

  He ignored the fact that she called him Liam. Again.

  Trying to warm her hand, he tightened his grasp. “First thing we’re going to do is have something to eat. One thing physical therapy has taught me is that you have to keep up your strength. Then we’re going to contact Tom. I want to make sure it’s Burke behind all of this and not just someone you crossed while doing a story. Then we’re going to do whatever it takes to stop it, understand?” What he considered his “police mode” was in full swing, seemingly having returned when he hadn’t even noticed, and Lee fought the urge to smile.

  “That sounds so easy. But it won’t be, because I know how hard it was just to find a few pieces of personal information on a man as private and rich as Forest Burke,” she returned softly, not looking at him but at the raindrops splashing on the windshield with a noisy rhythm.

  “I know,” he said just as softly, trying not to think how good it felt to be close to her, holding her hand. “But we have no other choice. Let’s go in,” he said after a moment. He let go of her hand and reached over the seat into the back. He grabbed the small bag of clothes and personal things she’d tossed together before leaving her father’s house. Stuffed inside were the two envelopes holding all the information she’d gathered on Forest Burke. It didn’t seem like much.

  But one thing Lee had learned in all his years as a cop was that it didn’t take much to ruffle someone’s feathers enough to make him do something about it.

  Lee got out first and looked up and down the street to make sure no one was watching before leading Erin quickly up the porch steps and into the house. Once inside, behind locked doors, he wondered if she’d feel any safer. She was safer. No one had followed them, and no one except Offi
cer Ollin knew she was with him.

  Raindrops spotted the jacket of her suit, and it took all his willpower not to wipe away the one that had landed on her cheek, which she didn’t seem to notice. He turned away before he could no longer control the urge to touch her and headed toward the kitchen, taking her bag with him.

  Erin was quiet, following him silently until her high heels left the carpet and started clicking on the tiled floor in the kitchen.

  Lee set down her bag just inside the kitchen door. “How about some soup?” he asked, opening the pantry cabinet. “I also have a bag of ready-made salad in the fridge.”

  “That sounds great,” Erin replied. “Do you mind if I go wash my face?”

  “Go ahead.”

  Erin left. The fact that he’d been the one asking questions left Lee worried about her. Where was the gutsy reporter who used to ask a million questions? he wondered. Maybe she’d be more herself once she had a little food in her stomach. He knew he’d feel better. He dumped a can of soup into a pan and turned on the flame. The soup wasn’t yet warm by the time he had two salads in bowls on the counter. How convenient life could be, he thought, glancing at the instructions on the back of the salad bag. Pour into bowl. Top with favorite dressing. Mix. Too bad other things in life weren’t so easy.

  The truth was, nothing important was ever easy. Nor did it help to delay the inevitable, Lee knew, reaching into Erin’s bag for the two envelopes of notes. It was time to get started. Tossing them on the table, he moved to the phone. From down the hall, he could hear the faint sound of water running in the bathroom.

  His hand on the receiver, he stopped, knowing full well what making this call meant. It meant he was back on the job; he just hadn’t made it to the office yet. For a long, still moment, he could think of nothing else except what it would be like to be back at work. He knew Tom had been promoted a little more than two months ago. But Lee hadn’t gone into the precinct since he’d been shot, although he had attended an awards banquet, walking with the help of crutches. He’d been given a medal for putting himself in the line of fire to protect a witness—not that he’d had a lot of choice in the matter.