“The worst is that is looks like the guy we sent away.”
“Mm.”
That case would haunt Zach forever. On a psychic’s tip and some circumstantial evidence he arrested someone. The wrong person and that ended Zach’s career because the person had good lawyers.
“But that guy is in jail. Or twelve jurors thought he was the right guy.”
The Prosecutor’s office had nabbed someone else and he’d been convicted. “I’m cringing as I say this. Celia said the first fire was a copycat. Could the same person have done it again? A second time?”
“But who could this be? They’d have to know about the first one or be the true person who set those other fires.”
Zach frowned. “Are you suggesting the wrong man was convicted?”
Ed took a healthy swig of his beer. “Happens at times.”
“I don’t have any other ideas,” Zach said.
He loathed the idea that some innocent man had been convicted. The Prosecutor had been pretty sure of his case.
“Enough about this. Just mull it over for me and if you have anything you can add, let me know.”
“Sure, buddy.”
“Now how is that love life?”
Ed laughed as Zach’s mind went to Grace.
***
The Robber Baron, a cop hangout in the small burg of Mill Hall, blasted Conway Twitty when Grace arrived. She spotted Officer Henry or Hank as he wanted her to call him. Hank Henry, quite a name she’d told him. He just smiled and reminded her that she had no room to talk.
“He walked in five minutes ago. He’s at the end of the bar.”
Grace slid onto the stool that Hank gave up for her. Glancing down the smoke-free bar, she saw a talk, lanky man with a cowboy hat. He was talking to the man next to him and glancing at one of the waitresses. Not glancing, undressing her with his eyes.
She expected the conversation was lewd and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was on his territory. “Is he really a cowboy?”
“A legend in his own mind.”
“Why are you ratting him out? What about the cop brotherhood?”
Hank shook his head. “He doesn’t feel that way about any other cops so why should I feel that way about him?”
“I see.”
“What’ll you have?” Hank asked.
Grace surveyed the beer bottles in front of the many bar patrons. “I’ll take the favorite of the blue collar set to blend in.”
“We’d have to throw you out if you ordered white wine, though they do serve it. And a great meatloaf.”
“I’ll remember that. They do takeout?”
“Yep. I ate here a lot when I was a bachelor. I don’t miss those days.”
“You ever see Dolores in here?”
“Oh, Dolores loves this place though I haven’t seen her in a month or so. Rumor is that she was back with Zach.”
Grace shrugged. She didn’t know the answer to that one. And maybe she didn’t want to. Her mind turned briefly to her dream about Zach. A shudder went through her.
Dolores was turning out to be a harder person to pin down with her many amours. Who wouldn’t have a motive?
Her beer landed in front of her and she took a swig trying not to look dainty. Not that she was, but sometimes being small didn’t help.
Lance looked her way, but she figured her chest was too tiny for him. Maybe she’d sidle up to him anyway. She tipped her beer at him and flashed a million dollar smile. Well her mother only paid three thousand dollars to the orthodontist for it.
“I may try this by myself,” she said.
“What?”
“Use my feminine wiles on him. That way you don’t have to be involved.”
“You going to confront him with something?”
“Maybe. Thanks for your help, Hank. Kiss your wife for me and thank her for letting me borrow you.”
“Good luck, Grace.”
Grace ambled past a collection of the county’s law enforcement officers. Even out of uniform, she would have spotted that they were cops. Each looked her over as she passed them in her flowered shirt and blue jeans. Maybe they were too snug to be legal, but she figured she could use all of her assets.
Pun intended, she thought with a smile.
Some of the cops gave her a cursory look while others openly gaped. Please, I’m not that good-looking.
She shifted her startling blond hair over her shoulder and smiled at Lance when she reached him. “Hey.”
His gaze ricocheted from her face to her toes then back to her face. “Yeah? You’re a little lacking in the chest area for me.”
Her gaze went south. “You’re a little lacking elsewhere for me, but I’ll buy you a beer if you’ll answer some questions for me.”
“Oh? What about?”
“Dolores Holten.”
He spat on the floor. “I don’t want to hear nothing about that slut. Heard she got knocked up.”
Grace wouldn’t deny or confirm that to this jerk. “Yeah? You cause that?”
He laughed his little paunch, the only fat on his body, wiggling ever so slightly. “Honey can’t get someone pregnant from 200 yards and I haven’t been that close for three months.”
“Does that make you mad?”
He tipped up his bottle of beer, never taking his eyes off of her. The bar had quieted for a moment then another mournful song about mom and trucks came on the jukebox. Guess it was a favorite since three people near her joined in an off-key accompaniment.
“You some investigator?”
“Nope. I think she’s in danger and I wondered if it was from you.”
“Nope. I’ve moved on as they say and this lady has more class. And more tits.”
If she had that much class why would she be with him? Grace cleared her throat. “Okay. Just checking.”
“I’d look into that ex-husband of hers. He was pretty jealous of me when I dated her. Has quite a temper.”
Grace paid for his beer then left him with his buddies. Amazingly her feet didn’t stick to the floor, but she felt Lance’s gaze all the way out the door. She’d have to shower again to get it off.
A new picture of Zach was emerging, too and she needed to reconcile this with what he’d been like with her. She also needed to find out for sure who the father of Dolores’ baby was. She couldn’t ask her unless she wanted to seem rude.
Zach might know and she’d found out where he lived.
Chapter Six
Grace walked down the well-lit Main Street of Mill Hall to where she parked her car. Footsteps echoed across the deserted town.
Not just hers.
She whirled to face the guy she’d talked to this afternoon. Was Ed stalking her?
He put up his hands as if in surrender. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I didn’t realize when we spoke earlier that coincidentally I was looking for you.”
She pulled her purse closer to her even though the guy held himself like a cop. “Why?”
His manner was deferential. “Miss, I just want to talk to you about a fire.”
Grace’s blood went cold. It had all ended with a fire in her last town.
“You moved out of the Grey Arms, correct?”
She stopped and looked at him, her curiosity getting the best of her. “Why?”
There’s been a fire. And it was set in your apartment.”
“Old apartment.”
“Right. Could we go somewhere to talk? Other than the middle of Main Street Mill Hall?”
“I’m tired. Just ask what you want so I can go.”
“Okay. When exactly did you move out?”
She thought back to when she’d rewound this time. Had it been Thursday or Friday. “Uh, Monday. The day after I signed the lease with the new place.”
“And did you go back?”
“No reason to. The place was a dump. No fond memories.”
The cop grimaced as if he knew what she was talking about. “So you were nowhere near the Gray Arms two
nights ago?”
“No. Are you finished?”
“Can anyone corroborate your story?”
“I went to bed alone.”
She turned away from him ready to be done with the conversation. His next words stopped her. “You were investigated in a murder by arson in Pennsylvania.”
“And they decided I wasn’t the person they wanted.” Would that haunt her forever?
“The detectives haven’t arrested anyone, yet.”
“And I moved here, proof that they didn’t need me to stay in town. Goodnight Detective.”
She left her blood on its way to boiling.
***
Zach Holten’s apartment was in a high rise at one end of Main Street Glen Hills. Most of the town Grace had settled in was rural, with the hospital being the biggest employer, so the high rise stood out. Literally.
As she trudged up the stairs to the third floor, the weight of her task slowed her steps. She only had two more days to solve this thing. At least she’d be close to Dolores. She’d taken the day off already and planned to invite her landlord out for lunch and shopping.
New age music filtered through the red apartment door which sported a three seventeen. Grace stood with her hand poised to knock. What if he was in the shower? What if he had a woman over?
She’d be mortified to interrupt a date or a rendezvous.
She’d be jealous, too. Oh, God. She’d never felt this way about anyone. Why now?
She swallowed her hesitance and rapped on the door. Zach opened it a bit then when recognition dawned on his face he opened it fully. “What are you doing here?”
“I have some questions for you. I didn’t think you’d mind being invaded on your home turf to be interrogated.”
He leaned on the door dressed in loose pants and no shirt. A sheen of sweat covered his hairy chest. “Turnabout is fair play, I guess. You’ll have to wait until I’m done. Or better yet, join me.”
She walked through the doorway into a true bachelor’s pad. Except for the art on the walls. No race car posters, here. Instead he had pictures of religious icons and prints by contemporary artists.
“What are you doing?”
“Yoga. I don’t have another mat, but if you take off your socks you won’t slide on the carpeting,” he said as he closed the door behind him.
She looked at him making sure he didn’t have two heads. “Yoga? I thought only women vegetarians did that.”
He laughed, the muscles on his chest rippling with the effort. “Nope. Homicide detectives that have seen too much do it to keep their sanity.”
That had been the most he said to her about himself ever. She eyed his mat then her jeans. “I’m not sure I’m dressed for it.”
“I can lend you some loose shorts.”
“I doubt they’d fit me.”
“They come from someone your size.”
Clothes from an ex-girlfriend. Just what she wanted to wear when she was talking to him. “I don’t think so. I can come back when you’re done.”
“No, I only have a few more minutes. Make yourself at home. There’s beer in the fridge.”
He turned away from her as if dismissing her. She stood not sure what to do, then went to the kitchen for a beer. The amber liquid slid down her throat like a log on a flume ride. She expected to splash herself.
Zach appeared in the doorway when she was halfway through the green bottle of imported beer. “So what brings you here?” His permanent scowl had returned.
She hesitated. “I want to know if you’re the father of Dolores’ baby.”
His laugh spurt out of him as if he had lost control of it. “Why would I tell you that?”
“Are you?”
He turned away from her and filled a glass with water. She watched his Adam’s apple bob as he downed the whole lot of it. “I could be.” His ego said that.
Did feelings for Dolores still occupy his body? Grace took note and squelched her hormones screaming for her to touch him. He smelled like a man, an enticing one at that. She read somewhere that if you liked how a man’s sweat smelled he was your soul mate.
Her mind streaked back to her dreams. All moisture left her mouth. She dragged herself back to the present. “Oh? And who else?”
“No one else.”
She bit her lip. A debate raged inside of her. Did he not realize what other people thought of her Dolores? If only one person had told her of Dolores’ hijinks she might not have believed him, but Hank had no reason to lie to her.
“You think so?”
His stare tried to bore a hole through her as if daring her to refute him. “I hear Dolores has been with a lot of people.”
She regretted the words when the pain pierced across his steel eyes, making them closer to flint than anything that could hold up a building.
His jaw clenched and a muscle worked in his cheek. “Those are lies.”
“Zach,” Grace said in her “calm the patient” voice.
His shoulders slumped. “Okay, I know about Dolores. That’s why we’re divorced. She ran around on me.”
He turned away from her. She obeyed her instincts and moved to him, touching his back. The pain must be raw and still near the surface for him. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault and I should be done with it by now.” He turned back to her, shifting her close to him. “For some reason I want to trust you, but I can’t.”
His head tipped and moved closer to her. His hand warmed the side of her face. Colors danced on the border of her vision as desire shot through her.
If of their own accord, her head leaned into him, her lips parting. Her brain screamed that she couldn’t do this. The last time she gave into an attraction she’d wound up arrested for a murder she didn’t commit. “No.”
Her self-control did not reach her feet so she was unable to move.
He stopped, his eyes on fire, his breath ragged across her cheek. “No?”
“We can’t. I have a job to do.”
He brushed past her. “And what is that? Protecting Dolores?”
“Yes in a way. She asked me to help her.”
“Yeah, you said that. Her corpse talked to her. You got those cops in Pennsy so stymied they speak highly of you.”
Her back stiffened this time. “I haven’t done anything wrong. I helped them.”
“That Detective wouldn’t get specific about how you helped. Something about an arson. Why don’t you tell me the details.”
Every fiber of her being wanted to spill the whole story. She took a deep breath, but knew she couldn’t tell him the truth. The one thing he wanted, she didn’t feel he could handle.
Shaking her head she backed away out of the kitchen. “Trust me. You don’t really want to know the truth.”
He followed her grabbing her arm. Electricity seared its way through her.
“Try me.”
“No. You wouldn’t believe me.”
“Are you attracted to me?”
She swallowed hard and crossed fingers behind her back. “No.”
“Then why were you as eager to kiss me as I was to kiss you?”
“You misread my body language.” She tugged herself loose. “I have to go. I still want the answer to my question.”
“So do I Grace. So do I.”
Chapter Seven
Zach’s phone rang as soon as Grace left. His caller I.D. said it was Celia.
He debated not answering it, but she’d keep calling him. Maybe she knows when he’s home. The idea spooked him a bit.
“Celia.”
“Listen to her.”
“Who?”
He settled onto his couch, the cordless phone cradled against his shoulder. This woman was the bane of his existence some days. Why didn’t she just leave him alone?
He knew why, but that didn’t give her license to disrupt his life. Okay, maybe it did, but he didn’t have to like it.
“That woman who just left.”
“Celia, don’t spy on my
apartment.”
“I’m not.”
A chill went down his spine. She was right. The number on is caller I.D indicated she was home and he knew that was across town.
“Celia, stay out of this. And stay out of my life.”
He pressed the disconnect button with more fury than he should have felt for her.
***
Grace sat in her car trying to calm her runaway heart. The colors she’d seen when he touched her scared her. And the visions spoke volumes, spoke of a future with Zach. How could this be if she saved Dolores? She’d seen more than any corpse had let her see.
Her ringing phone interrupted her pity party.
Mark’s voice boomed out at her. “Hey, Gracie.”
“Mark. You seemed to know when I need to hear your voice.”
“A guy or a dead body?”
“I have other things in my life.”
He chuckled. “Which is it this time?”
She sighed. “A guy.” Which had only ever been once before this. And that hadn’t worked out either.
“Tell me more.”
“He’s the ex-husband of the corpse, er Dolores. My landlord.”
Corpse Whisperer Page 5