The Inquisitor

by Gayle Wilson

  “She saw Cummings get in?” he asked.

  “She saw her talking to whoever was inside. Pouring down rain, and the girl’s leaning in the window talking. That’s why she remembers it. Right on Twentieth Street, maybe a block from the bar where Cummings left her friends.”

  “Where was your witness when she made the sighting?”

  “Driving by. Going up the hill.” Apparently Bingham realized that might not mean much to someone from out of town. “Opposite to the direction our boy was headed, which was away from the Points. She noticed the girl as she passed.”

  “Get a look at the driver?”

  “Not enough for any kind of description. Said she thought it was a man because her impression at the time was that what was going on was a pickup.”

  Sadly, she’d been right.

  “If you put out that information—the date, approximate time, weather, location, a description of the car, whatever she gave you—you might get somebody else who saw the same thing. Somebody who hasn’t put what they saw together with the murder.”

  Sean guessed from the silence on the other end that the cops hadn’t yet done that. He suspected, now that the idea had been broached, Bingham, who was nobody’s fool, would get on the release of those details right away.

  “I’m gonna put an officer out there, by the way. Just thought you should know,” the detective said, rather than commenting on Sean’s suggestion.

  “At Five Points?” The non sequitur had thrown him. What good did Bingham think having a cop at the scene would do now?

  “At Dr. Kincaid’s parents’ house. You are still there, aren’t you?”

  Fishing for information? If so, he’d made a very good guess. Which probably meant he hadn’t been guessing.

  “I don’t understand,” Sean hedged.

  “I talked to Dr. Kincaid’s employer this morning.” Paper rattling in the background punctuated that information. “A Dr. Paul Carlisle. He’s the one who told me where she is. Since you told me yesterday that you were still together…”

  Sean stifled the profanity that was his immediate reaction. He’d warned Jenna about telling anyone where they were. He’d thought she understood what was riding on that.

  Of course, just because Carlisle had given the information to the police didn’t mean he’d passed it on to anyone else. Sean had to believe a man in his position wasn’t a complete idiot. He just wasn’t willing to bet Jenna’s life on it.

  She had. And it was up to him to deal with the fallout.

  “I told you what would happen if you surround her with cops,” he warned, working to control his anger.

  “You also told me how the good citizens of this town would react to another murder. I got an earful from Dr. Carlisle this morning on the same subject. We got a lead now, Sergeant Murphy. Somebody came forward less than twelve hours after we put out the scenario you and Dr. Kincaid provided. And as you say, if one person saw something, maybe someone else did, too. This department isn’t about to use Jenna Kincaid as bait to try and catch this bastard.” The lieutenant’s voice softened, his tone verging on threatening. “And no matter what your arrangement with her might have been before today, we aren’t going to allow you to do that, either. You need to be real clear about that.”

  Sean didn’t bother to deny the accusation. After what had happened last night, all the arguments he’d used to convince Jenna—as well as those with which he’d once convinced himself—didn’t seem nearly as compelling.

  Maybe it was time do what everyone had told him he should from the beginning. Get out of the way and let the authorities handle the hunt for the Inquisitor.

  All he was obligated to do right now was keep Jenna safe. If his initial instinct had been right—and he had no reason to doubt it had been—that would be a full-time job.

  “I got no objection to whatever deal the two of you got worked out,” Bingham continued into his silence, his accent thickening. “That’s Dr. Kincaid’s business. Mine’s making sure our boy don’t ever get ‘lucky’ again.”

  “Will you keep us informed?”

  Another silence, longer than the previous one. “I’ll stay in touch with Dr. Kincaid,” the lieutenant conceded finally. “Maybe she’ll think of something else that’ll be helpful.”

  Before Sean could respond, the connection was broken. He closed his phone, pushing it back into his front pocket.

  “Bingham?”

  He turned to find Jenna standing in the kitchen doorway. She was wearing jeans and a gray sweatshirt over a white tee.

  Her hair had been pulled back and tied with some kind of elasticized thing; her face was devoid of makeup. She looked about fifteen. Despite that, he wanted her. He wanted to make love to her. Right here. Right now. On her mother’s table. On the goddamn floor if he had to.

  He turned back to the coffeepot before she became aware of exactly how much he wanted her. He filled the mug he’d set out and then reached into the cabinet above his head to take down another. As he poured coffee into the second mug, he tried to occupy his mind with thoughts of anything other than how her body had felt moving under his last night.

  Her responsiveness had been a surprise. For some asinine reason he’d thought she would carry that cool demeanor into bed. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

  “Thanks,” Jenna said.

  While he’d been struggling to regain control, she had crossed the room. She was standing at his elbow, waiting for him to give her the mug.

  In spite of the coffee’s heady aroma, he was aware again of the dark, sensual fragrance that had filled his senses last night as they’d made love. The erection he’d been trying to deny was suddenly full blown. And with the thin denim of his aged jeans, there was no way in hell she wasn’t going to be aware of it.

  However, he’d never run away from a challenge in his life. He was a little old to start now.

  He turned, holding the brimming cup out to her. She took it in both hands, lifting it to her lips to take a sip. As she lowered the mug, her eyes automatically tracked downward.

  He hadn’t bothered to search for his shirt in the predawn darkness of the bedroom. He’d simply pulled on the jeans that he’d discarded last night, not even bothering to fasten the top button. Then—barefoot and bare-chested—he had come downstairs where he could think without the temptation of Jenna’s beautifully nude body curled at his side.

  It was as if he could feel her gaze moving down his stomach, following the line of dark hair that would eventually disappear into the waistband of his jeans. The sensation was so real, his abdominal muscles tightened in response to it. And he knew the exact moment she became aware of the effect she was having.

  Her eyes leaped up to meet his. For an instant there was something that looked like amusement in their dark depths. Before he could be sure that’s what he was seeing, she lowered them, staring down again into the steaming mug.

  The pretense that she hadn’t noticed his arousal annoyed him. If she wanted to play games…

  “They’ve got a witness.”

  The blunt statement accomplished what he’d intended. When she looked up, every trace of amusement had been wiped from her eyes. They were wide and dark, intently focused on his face.

  “Someone saw him?”

  “They saw the Cummings girl talking to a man in a car. Same day. Approximate time of her disappearance. And in the pouring rain. They’ve got a description of the car.”

  She took a breath, closing her mouth, which had opened as he talked. “Good enough to nail him?”

  He shook his head. “Good enough to narrow the field.”

  She nodded. “That’s something, I guess.”

  “Something they didn’t have before you figured out why he broke his pattern. I suggested they put what they have out there in case it might jog someone else’s memory.”

  “If they do, then…he’ll know.”

  He didn’t understand what had prompted the remark. It sounded as if she thou
ght the bulletin might cause the killer to back off. To lie low for a while.

  In her position she couldn’t possibly be opposed to that. Sean was no longer sure he was. Considering what was at stake.

  “Bingham’s putting someone out here.”

  “Someone? You mean…an officer?”

  “Apparently he’s decided you need protection. Your boss has been on his case.”

  “Paul?” She shook her head. “I didn’t think Paul even knew who was in charge of the task force.”

  “Bingham called him trying to locate you. It seems to have worked.”

  He didn’t make the accusation overtly. She was smart enough to figure out that he was angry. And why. He could tell by the change in her face that she had.

  “I’m sorry. Paul’s my boss. I thought I should tell him what was going on. But…” She shook her head. “Believe me, I had no idea that he’d tell the police.”

  “You might want to think about making sure he doesn’t tell anyone else.”

  Her eyes widened. “I told him when we talked not to tell anyone. Why he would…” She shook her head again. “Look, I said I’m sorry. I just didn’t think—”

  “That’s the problem,” he interrupted harshly. “You didn’t think.”

  “Paul Carlisle is a highly respected psychiatrist.” The apologetic note in her voice had been replaced by anger. “He’s been a force in this town for twenty years. He built the successful group practice I’m part of from scratch.”

  “And he didn’t need to know where you are. Not if you want us to pretend to believe this location might still be safe.”

  “You’ve made your point,” she said, her face tight. “I swear it won’t happen again. I’ll call Paul and tell him it’s imperative that he not tell anyone else where I am.”

  “Yeah, you do that. While you’re at it, try to remember what I told you yesterday. There are no second chances in this. No room for error. Carol Cummings probably thought the guy in the big gray car was a safe bet, too. Look where that got her.”

  Again, the long hours of the day had passed far too slowly. Jenna had avoided the downstairs den where Sean and the officer Bingham sent out kept the radio on, listening to the intermittent news broadcasts. As far as she could tell, there had been no further developments in the investigation.

  The patrolman who showed up for the second shift turned out to be one of the men who’d escorted her home and searched her apartment two nights ago. Despite the fact that the other officer had been on the premises all day, the kid had insisted on doing the same thing here as soon as he’d arrived.

  Faced with Sean’s refusal to participate in what he clearly viewed as a farce, Jenna was again relegated to giving the grand tour. At the last second Sean had decided to join them.

  His quietness as they moved through the rooms was in marked contrast to Officer Daniels, who became increasingly verbal. He made no pretense of not being impressed by or envious of her parents’ wealth, even to whistling when she opened the door to her father’s extensive gym in the basement.

  She found the entire exercise embarrassing. Especially in light of Sean’s determined refusal to be impressed by anything. She ended up feeling as if she, as well as the house, had been judged and found wanting.

  She again raided the freezer for dinner, thankful it was so well stocked. Although the three of them ate together at the breakfast room table, there was a marked strain between the men.

  The young cop proudly showed off pictures of his wife and infant daughter, born the previous summer. Then he tried to engage Sean in conversation about his experiences in the military. He gave up in the face of the noncommittal responses. All in all, as uncomfortable a meal as she could remember.

  She had loaded the dishwasher and cleaned up the kitchen, drawing out the tasks while the young patrolman made a final physical check of the grounds. She wasn’t sure where Sean spent that hour. All she knew was that he was still furious about what he’d obviously viewed as her flaunting of his orders.

  The chill that existed between them—especially in comparison to last night—made her regret having told Paul anything. It wasn’t that she doubted her employer or his judgment—after all, telling the police where she was wasn’t exactly a breech of security. But if she had dreamed Sean would see it as such, she would never have done it. And the sense of guilt that she’d betrayed his trust gnawed at her.

  “If it’s okay with you—” Daniels said, sticking his head in the kitchen “—I think I’ll set up the command post in here.”

  The military terminology grated. As if he were playing soldier. “Wherever you think, of course.”

  “I might make a pot of coffee,” he said, walking over to peer at her parents’ Capresso machine. “Nights get long on a job like this.”

  “Of course. Do you want me to set it up for you?”

  “You sound like my mom,” he said cheerfully. “I’m pretty sure I can manage to brew coffee by myself.”

  He probably didn’t mean anything derogatory by the comment. There were enough years between them that, ridiculously, it stung. Jenna discovered that she didn’t give a damn whether he figured out the intricacies of the coffeemaker or not.

  “Okay. Then…I guess I’ll see you in the morning,” she said, walking past him toward the door.

  She wasn’t sure of the exact protocol of having a cop staking out her kitchen, but she doubted he would want her wandering around downstairs once he started whatever he was here to do. In actuality, she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the combination of the kid’s inexperience and the fact that he possessed a powerful weapon.

  The only good thing about the situation was that she was reassured by Bingham’s choice for this assignment. Obviously he wasn’t too worried that the Inquisitor might show up out here tonight. And since Sean had virtually disappeared after supper, apparently neither was he.

  “You don’t happen to know where Sergeant Murphy is, do you?” she asked before she stepped through the kitchen door.

  Probably an exercise in futility. Since they were both persona non grata to Sean, she doubted he had been any more forthcoming with Daniels than he’d been with her.

  “He went upstairs a little while ago. I’ll guess I should tell you what I told him. You come wandering around down here in the dark, and I’m going to have to treat you just like you were an intruder. This may be your house, Dr. Kincaid, but tonight it’s my territory.”

  A shoot-first-and-ask-questions-later mentality that might very well get someone hurt. Only it wouldn’t be her.

  “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Officer Daniels. I certainly don’t intend to be wandering around in your territory. At least not before daylight.”

  Surprised at how annoyed she’d been by his comment, she walked out into the hall to keep from saying more than she should. She wondered how Sean had responded to that warning. Considering her own reaction, she could pretty much imagine his. Given the fact that he’d already been angry with her…

  She had thought that last night would have changed their relationship in ways that were irreparable. Ways that would have destroyed the animosity with which it had begun. Now…

  Now she had no idea what kind of reception she should expect from the man who’d made love to her throughout last night. And more troubling from her perspective, she couldn’t decide what kind she wanted.

  Given his attitude today, she wasn’t feeling particularly romantic. Still, despite her annoyance, she couldn’t deny the anticipation she felt at the thought of seeing him again. Alone. And without the intrusive presence of Bingham’s patrolmen.

  At the realization of what that might mean, the longing for his touch, which she’d denied all day, ached in her lower body again. From force of habit, she turned off the hall light as she passed the switch.

  In the resulting darkness, she lifted her eyes, looking for light filtering down from the second floor. There was none. Maybe Sean had decided to take advantage o
f the policeman’s vigil and catch up on the sleep he’d missed last night.

  Somehow she didn’t believe that. She would bet that his assessment of Officer Daniels paralleled her own. Which meant he would probably be waiting for her in the sitting room attached to her mother’s bedroom, planning to stand guard all night as she slept. Or…

  She closed her mind to the other possibility. The one that set her pulse racing.

  Whichever it was to be, there was no point in delaying the inevitable. She took one final look up the stairs before she put her hand on the banister. Then, aware for the first time of an exhaustion that seemed to have invaded every muscle, she began the ascent.

  As she approached the first landing, she glanced up again. The darkness at the top of the stairs seemed total. If Sean was awake, she should be able to see a thread of light even if he’d closed his door.

  She began to climb the remaining flight of stairs, choosing the one that led to her parents’ wing. As she neared the top, she felt as if the silence of the house were closing around her. As if, despite her knowledge to the contrary, she were the only inhabitant. The only living inhabitant.

  She had no idea why that phrase crept into her consciousness. She rejected it as she stepped onto the second-floor landing.

  Officer Daniels was in the kitchen. She’d just seen him. Talked to him.

  And Sean—

  That thought shattered when an arm closed around her waist, pulling her back into a hard chest. A hand was pressed tightly over her mouth, preventing the intake of air that would have fueled her scream.

  Twenty-Four

  She knew who held her even before Sean put his lips against her ear. He had apparently spent the time she’d been cleaning the kitchen by taking a shower. The scent of soap surrounded her, replacing fear with a very different emotion.