Definitely the case in bed. He was focused and intent but not selfish, and since she didn’t know just what to expect, it was very enlightening. They connected in more ways than just like-minded thinking when it came to solving crimes. He wanted what he wanted, but he also wanted her to have what she wanted.
It was interesting that she thought maybe that would be the case all along.
Jason drifted to sleep afterward, maybe more relaxed than she’d ever seen him, one arm carelessly over his head, but the other one protectively over her.
They’d just crossed a bridge, and it had fallen into the river behind them. No going back. She finally drifted off as well.
Chapter 18
The storms had rolled through.
He’d watched the lightning, mesmerized by the spectacle. The sky sizzled and cracked.
He’d also wanted to watch something else. The cameras were battery operated, but as far as he could tell, the whole city had been affected.
The bedroom was too dark. He enhanced the images but it didn’t really help.
He leaned back and regrouped.
Some things were out of his control.
He couldn’t see, but he could hear. He’d whispered to her and she’d made occasional telling sounds, and then it was all quiet.
Then they were asleep.
Pacing, he tried to decide what to do.
He’d changed the lock to the back door. She’d figure it out fast enough, but it wasn’t like she unlocked it often from the outside. She went in through the garage or the front door.
He could maybe take care of it all tonight, but then decided that was just too soon.
Santiago had crossed a serious boundary.
* * *
Ellie rolled over and registered the tall male body next to her and had a serious moment. She was sure she’d made worse decisions in her life, but this could be up there. Jason had lived up to what she’d imagined; intense but not forceful, ardent but not aggressive, and to make it more romantic, they’d both kept their weapons within easy reach while a storm raged outside.
Interesting.
He was just so him. Of course he was instantly awake. He murmured, “I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t mind doing last night again. And again. Keep the refrain going.”
There were worse compliments she supposed. Ellie responded, “At least we survived the night. I thought the wind was going to blow us off the planet.”
Talk about morning-after panic.
He sensed it too. His arm tightened around her, those blue eyes vivid as he lifted up on one elbow. “Ellie, we’re fine. From a personal standpoint, I’m way better than fine.”
“We slept together … what the hell is wrong with us? We just shouldn’t have done that.”
“What? Be human beings?”
Okay, he was being logical and she wasn’t. “I know.”
“Nothing I could name is wrong with us.” He leaned over and kissed her neck. “I’m a fan of Ellie MacIntosh. And in case you were wondering, that isn’t exactly what a guy wants to hear the morning after.”
He had a good point there. It had been her suggestion.
Maybe it had been the storm, or his obvious sense of protectiveness, or even this unusual case that had her so off-balance she would even consider something like waking up naked in bed with Jason. The sexual tension between them had been growing for a long time, so the circumstances of being together even more than usual hadn’t helped matters one bit.
“Bear with me.” She actually moved closer. “I live in a male-dominated world. Now the next time Metzger looks at me directly and asks if we’re sleeping together, I can’t look right back and say no.”
“Relax. I doubt he’ll ask again.”
“Why?”
“I know him.” Santiago rolled to his back, taking her with him, and his tone was matter-of-fact. “He doesn’t want the answer, Ellie. It doesn’t really change anything. He’s told me face-to-face he knows how I feel about you. I doubt he’d be happy it happened, but I also highly doubt he’d be surprised. I was the one who was surprised. In a really, really good way. You?”
He could be right. There was a direct way Jason approached things, and that was one of them. It wasn’t she was really sorry about what had happened and it had been her decision, but it wasn’t what you were supposed to do and they were cops. Rule one was no romantic involvement with your partner.
Major violation.
Not to mention the man had more issues than a third world country.
She needed to talk to Georgia Lukens, but maybe Georgia needed to talk to her since she was involved with Grasso. That was one complicated man who also had issues.
It was odd, but she felt comfortable, and Santiago was not a person to inspire comfort. Quite the opposite. “On a personal basis, I’m okay. On a professional one, not so sure.”
“Repeat performance?” He touched her lightly. There was a side of him that didn’t leap toward trust. There was no way, she reminded herself fiercely, she could possibly get truly involved with this man on an emotional level.
Sex. Sex was fine.
Love was something else.
Too late?
“I mean, there’s still no power, so I can’t watch television. What else is there to do?”
“Oh, there’s a line no woman could resist.” She jabbed him in the shoulder.
He grinned, unrepentant. “I take charming to a whole new level, I know.”
“I’m not sure that’s a level anyone should aspire to achieve, just for your information.”
“Hmm.” He tickled her bare shoulder. “About that repeat performance offer?”
She shouldn’t. She just plain shouldn’t for several reasons. Up and down she would have sworn Jason wasn’t her type; far too intense, sophistication was just not in his vocabulary, his idea of an outdoor sport seemed to be drinking beer in a lawn chair, and … the list went on.
But she didn’t refuse, which said a lot.
“I vote yes.”
* * *
Jason and Grasso did not strike gold at the supermarket. There was no power restored in a lot of parts of the city and gutters weren’t handling the overflow.
The checker wasn’t there either.
“She only works a few days a week.” The service desk lady was trying to be helpful, but really wasn’t. “She takes classes at a community college. Her shifts change depending on whether she has a test coming up. She’s very serious about getting her degree. I don’t think I’ve seen her all week.”
The store manager was a little better in that he saw their badges and gave up Tammy’s address with alacrity. “She’s a good girl,” he told them earnestly. “If she can help you, she will.”
“Glad I’m wearing boots and not those thousand-dollar loafers you have on,” Jason remarked as they had to wade through a small lake to get back to the truck.
Grasso shot him a suspicious look. “Thanks. You are in a cheerful mood today, at least for you. Just grateful you lived through the storm? I know I am. Any leaves from last fall sitting in someone’s unraked yard ended up in my pool. I ate cereal for dinner and took a cold shower this morning, and I’m investigating the murder of a little old lady who did a favor for a stranger who probably turns out is a serial killer. I don’t even want to talk about my wet shoes. I’m not cheerful. Why are you?”
No way Jason was going to say anything about his night with Ellie even to Grasso, so he merely remarked, “Considering the weather, I knew MacIntosh was safe enough and I got some sleep. Now and then I do crash. Last night I zoned. I learned in the military to sleep with one eye open, and trust me, that isn’t real sleep. That’s pretend sleep. Let’s hope this Tammy is actually the one I talked to and is at home. At the time I asked about the flowers, I was just sniffing around, but not positive it was a murder investigation yet.”
Her building ended up being a square modest collection of prefab apartments designed for people with modest income at best, and may
be government subsidized. Tammy answered the door in pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt and Jason wanted to tell her to never do that to a random knock when you are a young woman who lives alone and not expecting someone, but maybe he was just a jaded soul. He produced his badge. “I don’t know if you remember me, but—”
“I remember.” She nodded, eyes wide. “My boss called me because he started to worry maybe he shouldn’t have given you my address without a court order or something. It’s okay. I want to help. Come on in, but I warn you, it’s a mess. Finals are coming up soon. I haven’t done laundry in, like, two weeks.”
So at least she was expecting them. That made him feel better. Her small apartment was a disaster and there were books open all over a generic desk, the coffee table, and empty scattered cans of diet soda pretty much everywhere. Grasso produced the picture. “Is this the woman who bought all of those tulips?”
Tammy studied the photograph and then nodded decisively. “That’s her.”
Pot of gold, right there. Jason asked, “You’re sure?”
Tammy pointed at the picture. “She always wore pearls. She had that antique brooch thing on her jacket every single time she came in. I think I recognize that more than I recognize her. I made a comment on it once and she told me it belonged to her grandmother.”
It was absolutely the small kind of detail that made a difference in court. Jason could tell Grasso also felt the same flicker of not exactly what a person would call triumph, but confirmation anyway.
“That really does help us,” Jason assured her truthfully. “It’s what we were looking for. If you remember anything else, please call.”
“I will.”
They squished back to the truck, Jason ruminating. “So he killed her to make sure she couldn’t identify him and we’ve got that nailed.”
“I think that’s true.”
“What an asshole … I’m always blown away by how a human being can be … well, less than human. Get into it with your neighbor over the fence line, or get pissed at the people who talk during the movie at the theater, but don’t kill a little old lady that was nice to you. No neighbors saw anything?”
Grasso didn’t seem any happier about his shoes, but they were his problem. “No one I talked to saw anything, and I talked to anyone in her neighborhood who would answer their door. Now that we tied it all together with a neat little bow, you guys better get on it. I have one imprint of an athletic shoe, but that’s it as far as evidence goes.”
“I love how everything seems to be my problem.”
“That’s just your perception, Santiago. Stop grumbling. It’s your problem by proxy. Your killer killed my little old lady and all because of his interest in your partner.” Grasso’s tone was somber when he added, “I’d really watch my back if I were you, because I bet there’s a bull’s-eye on it. I’ve said it to MacIntosh already.”
Jason started the truck. “Yeah, well, I’m not as easy to kill as a young drunk girl or a pudgy middle-aged dock worker. Speaking of Ellie, she better have stayed put at her desk.”
“I think maybe you should get over thinking you can tell her what to do.”
“Oh, I can tell her, it just doesn’t mean she’ll listen to me.” He glanced over after swerving around what appeared to be a clogged sewer drain because someone could swim in the pool around it. “You and Lukens. How’s that going? I admit I was kind of surprised, but maybe she is your type.”
“Meaning what?”
“I don’t know. Just seems like it. Maybe it’s the polished exterior but tough underneath. We’ve all shot people, so quite the gathering the other night. Lots in common. Great for conversation. That breaks the ice every time.”
That comment wrung out a laugh. Grasso said, “I’m not sure I want to have that come up at a dinner party, but then again, I usually decline dinner parties anyway.”
“I usually don’t get invited, so I’m safe there.”
“You had dinner with the governor, Santiago.”
That was true. “Well, okay, can’t deny that, but even though the food was good, the entire time I wished I was eating a burger and drinking lukewarm beer while sitting on my couch watching a Packers game. I’m going to order a personalized license plate next time that has Philistine on it.”
“I’m astounded you know what a Philistine is,” Grasso observed dryly as they parked and then walked to the building.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence. By the way, my feet are perfectly dry. I’m astounded you wore those shoes. I might be smarter.”
“All right, you win that one.”
He didn’t win all the way.
It turned out Ellie absolutely hadn’t listened to him. She wasn’t at her desk, there was no note, just her empty chair and a closed computer. Jason said tightly to Grasso, “No need to worry about the killer getting to MacIntosh, I’m going to strangle her myself.”
* * *
“So … I don’t even know how to put this except bluntly, and I wouldn’t share this information with anyone else, but I slept with him.”
“Jason? I’m not surprised,” Georgia poured from a pitcher into two glasses filled with ice. “But I am curious why you are.”
Ellie dropped into her usual chair. She was curious too.
“He isn’t exactly every girl’s dream guy. His past alone would make anyone consider they’d made a very questionable decision. It’s stupid.” She picked up her iced tea. “I’ve risked my job on a man who is so frigging out there … oh lord, you see? I just said frigging. He’s not a good influence.”
“I happen to know him and he would stand between you and a speeding bullet. I think he’s already done that. He has challenges, but we all do. If you are looking for the perfect man, Grantham would have been a good choice. Quiet, considerate, absolutely independent both financially and emotionally. Consider that last part. Take the physical out of it.”
“I have. For one thing, he’s in New York. Physical is impossible.”
“Ellie, if you wanted to do so, you could go there.”
It was true and she’d thought about it, but then decided against it. “It would probably make things worse for both of us.”
“Because you feel you’d be pursuing a relationship that isn’t going anywhere?”
That was a truth she’d come to acknowledge months ago. “I don’t feel rejected … I just think in the end we weren’t right for each other. We wanted to be and I can say I know we both tried, but you are making a big mistake if you try to force something too much.”
“I don’t disagree, but my opinion isn’t gold. I think the issue we need to address is Jason Santiago really is going through a transitional time right now. It is a leap for him to care for someone else. You are getting my perception only.”
That perception was the reason she was there. “Bryce had been burned before so he was also transitional before he got the break he wanted and headed off to New York. Is this my problem?”
Georgia said, “If you are asking me if I think you are drawn to damaged men, no I don’t. I wouldn’t describe either of them as damaged. Wary would be a better word, and who could blame them? They’ve both been burned in the past, Bryce Grantham by his ex-wife and Jason Santiago by his mother walking out the door in his childhood. You are on the wary side yourself. I think you are confident and attractive and the same type of men are drawn to you. That isn’t comforting when it comes to this killer.”
“Keep talking.” Ellie said it grimly.
“I think you probably would intimidate a lot of men just because of your profession alone. You don’t have that problem with Jason because it is common ground. My impression is that Bryce might have thought about committing again but the hesitation was on your part, he sensed it, and then fate intervened. He had to choose, but the book deal was a certainty and you weren’t. So he chose.”
Ellie said ironically, “Just in case it didn’t work out.”
“What would you have done in his place? From what you told
me, he can still work his other job from there too, so the logical choice would be to go.”
She was done discussing her personal life, because while it had been rocky before last night, it was a true mess now and all of it her fault. Santiago had called twice and left messages, and finally she’d texted him back and simply said: I’m fine, I’m with Lukens.
I’ll pick you up. Her place or the office?
I’ll drive myself and meet you later at your apartment.
No way. Give me a time. We’ll get your car tomorrow.
Office.
Ellie gave a heartfelt sigh of frustration and looked at Georgia. “Sorry about that. I hate people constantly on their cell phones. Jason needs to get over this sudden quest to keep track of me every minute. I appreciate the concern and I’m not going to claim I’m not frightened, because we have no idea who this killer is or what he might do next, but I’m a police officer not a rock star who needs a bodyguard. Trust me, I’m paying attention.”
Dr. Lukens merely lifted her brows. “He’s got a lot invested in your welfare. You are his partner and apparently now his lover, and if I may remind you, someone out there is killing people just to impress you. Besides, I don’t think it is all that sudden when it comes to his interest.”
“I talked to the FBI profiler again. Montoya says he dislikes the fast pace. Most serial killers operate over time and are methodical. The impulsive ones get caught fairly quickly, but some never get caught at all. Santiago thinks he’s calling himself Jack for a reason if our jogger is a true suspect. That name is well known to represent someone who got away with it if you consider London in the late 1800s. From a psychological viewpoint, what do you think?”
Lukens obviously considered the question seriously. “I don’t do your job, but maybe that theory has some validity. Association exists. If indeed, though, he’s a part of the equation. He could just be someone who came along, met your victim and they decided to go running together, and his name really is Jack.”
It was possible. “My take on it too. He also could be someone who should be locked up in a prison somewhere with the key to his cell buried in a padlocked box.”
Crushed Page 17