“I don’t think so,” Nick ventured slowly. The others looked at him. “I think Sundays mean too much to him, for some reason.” He paused for a moment, thinking. When he spoke again, he looked at Charley. “We need to look at newspaper archives.”
She wasn’t sure she followed him. “For?”
Nick recalled the date the first victim was killed. Her sister. “Something happened to him on March twenty-fourth. Something that made him snap, made him do what he’s doing. Maybe there’s something in one of the local papers on March twenty-fourth or twenty-fifth, 1998 or maybe even 1999, that can enlighten us.”
Bill eyed him incredulously. “Do you have any idea how many local newspapers there are?”
“Since the first murder took place in Orange County, I think it’s safe to say that our killer is probably from around here,” Nick told him.
“Can’t be a hundred-percent certain of that,” Charley pointed out.
“No, you’re right. If we don’t find anything, we widen our scope,” Nick answered.
“There’s also the possibility that whatever happened didn’t make the papers, was only important to our killer,” Charley said.
“Gotta start someplace,” Sam interjected.
Charley frowned. “It’s a long shot.”
Nick surprised her by admitting, “I agree. But it’s better than no shot at all.”
She supposed he had something. She wasn’t going to be the one to vote it down. She turned to Sam, Bill and Jack, who’d just walked into the room. “Okay, but in the meantime, why don’t you three canvass the area and ask the same old tired questions.”
“You got it.” Bill gave her a two-finger salute.
Just as they began to leave, Assistant Director Kelly walked in. He saw the crime scene and shook his head. “Do you have any idea who the victim is?” he asked Charley.
“Unlucky number 13,” she replied.
Kelly frowned. “She’s also Rita Daly, the mayor’s niece.” He looked from one person to another, including the forensic team. “I want to get this solved yesterday.”
Charley’s mouth curved in a humorless smile. “If we had the ability for time travel, Assistant Director, the killer would have never had a chance to get his second victim.”
Kelly grumbled something inaudible at her back. Charley decided not to ask him to repeat himself.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“A LITTLE EARLY in the season for a barbecue, isn’t it?”
From the very first syllable he uttered, Charley could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as if they’d been exposed to a jolt of electricity. Maybe they had.
She turned around slowly, a margarita in her hand. The sound of children playing, fragments of conversations and Dakota barking joyfully all faded into the background like so many soft whispers. The smile that sprang to her lips was genuine, but she attempted to tone it down.
Charley tried to tell herself that she hadn’t been watching for him, wondering if her partner was going to attend the impromptu barbecue Sam had decided to throw. Nick hadn’t given her an answer when she’d tossed out the question about his attendance late yesterday afternoon.
Working almost around-the-clock ever since the mayor’s niece had been murdered, they all needed a break in the tension. More than anything, they needed an afternoon in which they could forget the gruesome details that haunted their everyday lives. Just for a few hours, they could pretend nothing was more important than consuming well-done hamburgers in the company of a few dozen friends.
In his generosity, Sam had invited the entire task force and their families. That included the A.D. and his secretary, as well as the forensic crew. But when she’d arrived with her dog, who was quickly spirited away by Sam’s children, she hadn’t see Nick anywhere in the area.
An hour into the barbecue and he still hadn’t turned up.
Until now.
The smile she offered Nick began at her inner core, even though she told herself she was being foolish. She saw this man every day. They spent over eight hours each day in each other’s company. Why should seeing him in jeans and a pullover, miles away from the Federal Building, be any different?
“This is Southern California. We can have a barbecue here anytime.” Her smile broadened. “Not like back East.” Charley took a sip of her drink. Sam’s wife had gone heavy on the tequila again, she thought, looking at Nick’s eyes. She hadn’t realized just how green they were. Green and smoky. She forced herself to focus. “I hear an unexpected cold front is moving in around D.C. The weatherman said they’re expecting unseasonably low temperatures.” Talk of weather was about as bland as it could get. Yet she was feeling warm. “Should make you glad to be out here.”
Nick felt something humming between them. Again. He’d thought, away from the tension of the job, their attraction might lessen. Instead, it felt even more pronounced.
He shrugged casually in response to her words. “I like the change of seasons.”
She combed her fingers through her hair, pushing it away from her face.
“Not me. A variance of about ten degrees is about all I can put up with. And I like having my rain scheduled inside of a season, not falling unexpectedly.” She supposed that probably sounded spoiled to him. But she was a California girl, through and through.
He studied her for a moment. Sam’s wife passed by, pausing only long enough to slip a can of beer into his hand. “Don’t you miss snow?”
She didn’t even have to think about her answer. “Can’t miss what you’ve never had.” The idea of snow had never really intrigued her. She preferred the white sands of beaches. “And if I feel deprived in any way, I can always drive up to the mountains to visit it.”
A boy and a girl of about eight or nine flew by, narrowly missing them both. Instinctively, Nick put his arm around her to move her out of harm’s way. Contact brought everything to a momentary standstill as they looked at each other.
Clearing his throat, Nick dropped his arm. “You were born here?”
Maybe the margarita was too strong, Charley thought. She deposited the emptied glass on a nearby table, forgoing the idea of having another until she’d had something to eat.
“Down in Newport Beach,” she told him. “I’m one of the few natives around.” She grinned at Sam, who’d transferred in from Seattle around the time that she joined the Bureau. “Everyone else comes here. And usually likes it.” She cocked her head slightly, studying him. Daring him to be negative. “How about you?”
The shrug he offered was not quite as casual as he would have liked. That was because his eyes were on hers. Without his being conscious of it beginning, somehow they were involved in a dance. And he had no idea how it would end up.
He could feel a wave of excitement traveling through his veins, even as he told himself this was ultimately all wrong. But his edict regarding separation of work and pleasure somehow wasn’t sticking.
“It has some things to recommend it,” he finally allowed.
Charley tried not to shiver. Her response certainly wasn’t because the day was cold or even cool. It was one of those days in paradise everyone dreamed about. The temperature a perfect seventy-eight, the sky was a brilliant blue with pristine white clouds creasing the horizon and there was just enough of a breeze stirring to keep things comfortable.
But despite the weather, something electric had scurried across her spine with a light touch. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d reacted like that to a man. With or without a margarita.
“Hey, man, glad you could make it.” Sam’s jovial voice broke through the bubble that had suddenly surrounded them. “What’ll it be?”
She was never so grateful to have Sam interrupt in her life. She flashed a smile as she turned toward him, mentally returning to her surroundings out of the nebulous regions she’d just traveled to.
Sex, served hot. The thought shot through Nick’s brain in response to Sam’s question. He kept it to himself. Without missi
ng a beat, Nick turned to look at his host. Sam had raised his king-size spatula to emphasize his meaning.
“Charcoal, well-done, medium or rare?” Sam asked.
Nick bestowed the briefest of glances in Charley’s direction before answering, “Rare.”
Oh, wow. Belatedly, Charley realized that she’d stopped breathing. As discreetly as she could, she drew in a breath but couldn’t seem to draw her eyes away.
Laughter from a far corner of the wide backyard caught her attention. Grateful, she looked in the direction it came from. Dressed in a shirt that looked as if a Hawaiian garden had exploded all over it, A.D. Kelly was standing at the center of a group, telling a story. Away from the office, the A.D. was a great one for long, involved stories that carried a punch line. Usually a good one.
She glanced at Nick, who seemed amused by Kelly. For once, she could almost read his thoughts.
“Surprised me, too,” she admitted. “Away from the office, Kelly’s just a regular person.” Crossing over to a huge ice chest, she dug out a can of diet soda and popped the top. “Took him a while to come around. Something about maintaining control by keeping his distance.” More laughter came from that quarter and Charley smiled. “Luckily, the A.D. has a wife who loves to socialize. Now all Sam has to do is throw a hot dog on a grill and they’re here.”
“One big happy family,” Nick commented.
She couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic, or just talking. The margarita made her feel rosy. She gave him the benefit of the doubt.
“We try. Whenever there’s a party, everyone shows up. With a few exceptions every now and then.” She added, “I thought you might be one of them.”
He had thought about offering his apologies and staying home. But he wasn’t a loner by nature. Traveling from base to base had given him the tools to adapt. And staying away from a barbecue when everyone else was attending wasn’t the way to fit in.
“Hey, I’m the new guy.” Finishing his beer, he tossed the can into one of the garbage pails scattered throughout the yard. “If I stayed away, I’d look as if I felt I was too good for this kind of a get-together. Don’t want anyone getting the wrong impression.”
She nodded, taking another sip of her soda. “You alone?”
He grinned and she bit her tongue. Why the hell had she asked that? He was getting the wrong idea. Or maybe the right one.
“Like I said, I’m the new guy. I haven’t had any time to get to know anyone to bring.” His gaze seemed to go right through her. “You?”
“Did I bring anyone?” she asked.
He nodded.
Charley gave a half shrug. “I’ve had too much time to get to know everyone,” she countered, then smiled. “The kind of life we lead, it’s hard meeting anyone outside the Bureau.”
He wasn’t about to let her go that easily. Over the past few weeks, she’d pumped him for information he’d never thought of volunteering. It was his turn. “How about inside the Bureau?”
She shook her head, even as something quickened within her. “That kind of thing never works out.”
His slow, sexy smile nearly undid her. “I was taught never to say never.”
“Cute.” To save herself from saying or doing something stupid, she looked away, pretending to scan the area. When she did so in earnest, she frowned.
“Anything wrong?” he asked.
“I don’t see Alice.”
Nick couldn’t make out the woman’s gangly form in the crowd either, but her absence came as no surprise. “She doesn’t strike me as the type to attend this kind of a group gathering.”
Because Alice was such a loner, Charley felt a need to defend the woman. She doubted if anyone actually ever stood up for her. “What makes you say that?”
“She doesn’t look comfortable away from her desk.”
“She’s just very shy and awkward. But she’s attended parties before,” she added. “Once in a while,” she qualified. “She’s usually the last to arrive and the first to leave, but she comes.”
Readjusting his apron that boldly proclaimed Kiss Me, I’m The Cook, Sam picked up a plate of fresh burgers and began to put them on the grill one at a time.
“I thought for sure she’d be here,” Sam said. Then he added, after comically raising and lowering his somewhat shaggy eyebrows, “Especially since she’s taken such a shine to our Charley here.”
“She didn’t ‘take a shine to me,’” Charley protested. “I was just being nice to her and she was grateful.”
“Speak of the devil,” Bill commented, nodding toward the sliding-glass doors that led into the rear of his house.
Alice was tugging the door back into place after having stepped out. As always, she stood out. Not because of her gangly form or height, but because of her clothes. Sam had sent the word out that the barbecue was strictly casual. To Alice, that meant low-heeled pumps, a pleated skirt and a long-sleeved cotton blouse.
Nick shook his head. “I guess you can take the woman out of the office, but you can’t take the office out of the woman.”
Maybe if she actively took the woman under her wing, Charley thought. Taught her a few things about dressing for the occasion. And worked on Alice’s makeup, she added as an afterthought. All she needed was for God to create a twenty-eight-hour day.
To Charley’s relief, she saw Kelly calling the woman over to his circle. For the time being, that took the burden off her.
“You know, you’re not responsible for her.”
She looked at Nick sharply. “How did you—”
“Body language,” he answered, realizing he was watching his partner’s body a lot lately. He was going to have to stop that. Unless he was ready to suffer whatever consequences came of going down this road.
“You read minds, too?” she asked.
Nick grinned now. “On occasion.”
Charley was extremely glad that her partner was only kidding.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
THE WARM SCENT of lovemaking lingered along the curves of her body.
Laura Brigham wrapped her arms around her torso, hugging herself. Both her smile and her eyes were dreamy as she pressed the last remnants of euphoria to her.
The spot beside her was still warm. She snuggled against it, reliving every wild, passionate moment she’d just enjoyed. Eventually, the warmth slipped away into the corners of the room like a feline padding softly into the mists. With a sigh, Laura sat up and threw off the covers. She reached for the cream-colored silk robe that lay across the foot of the bed and slipped it on. The delicate material felt good against her naked skin. Sensual.
Her lover had left her bed no more than ten minutes ago. As was her habit, she didn’t see him to the door. Didn’t watch him walk away from her and back to the shrew of a wife who held on to his purse strings. He’d confided he’d only married Joan to secure a partnership in the lucrative dental office. If he divorced her now, it would ruin everything. But someday soon, his father-in-law was going to retire, leaving the practice to him. And then things would change.
Someday soon.
It couldn’t be soon enough for her.
With a sigh, Laura combed her fingers through her hair, then paused to look at herself in the mirror above the bedroom bureau. Her eyes fell on the tiny gold cross that she wore around her neck. The catch had moved forward again. Holding on to the cross, she moved the chain until the catch was at the back of her neck and then smiled at her reflection.
Dennis had given the necklace to her. She thought of it as her secret talisman. No one else in the dental office knew where it had come from, although one of the other hygienists had commented on it. Gina had noticed the first day she’d worn it and asked all sorts of questions. She’d answered none of them.
She’d said it was a gift from someone who meant a lot to her. It was all she could do not to look at Dennis then, so handsome in his white smock. So damn sexy without it.
She giggled then stopped.
The doorbell.
<
br /> It was ringing. Her heart leaped up into her throat and she fairly flew to the front door, her robe parting and flying out on either side of her like wings. She paused only to tug the ends around her before throwing open the door.
“Back for seconds, lover?”
Disappointment was immediate. It wasn’t Dennis at the door. It was one of the people whose teeth she cleaned. Whenever he came, even though his teeth were in perfect condition, she couldn’t wait to have him out of her chair. Something about the man gave her the creeps.
She stared at him. “Oh. What are you doing here?”
And then she frowned as she saw the roses he was holding. The bouquet he now thrust forward. Man, this was awkward. Searching for something to say, she took a step back as the man took a step forward.
Belatedly, she realized her mistake. Now she was going to have trouble getting him out again.
“Really, Mr. Sykes, I told you last week that I make it a rule never to get involved with any of the doctor’s patients. It wouldn’t be ethical.”
Her words froze in her throat as she saw the man’s expression change.
“What would you know about ethical?” he asked.
“DAMN, WHAT IS HE, on a marathon?” Charley demanded, frustration drumming through her. “What made him go from once a year to this?”
She felt an ache inside as she looked down at the face of yet another victim. She always saw Cris even as she took in the different details of each new body.
“Bloodlust is my guess,” Bill volunteered.
The steady click of the camera continued as one of the crime scene investigators took an abundance of overlapping photographs of everything within the room. Charley tried to ignore it, even though the rhythm seemed to shout: Dead, dead, dead.
“Maybe he has a sense of urgency,” Nick suggested. The others looked at him. “Who the hell knows? Maybe his doctor told him he has only six months to live and he wants to kill as many women as he can before then.”
Sundays Are for Murder Page 15