Texas Temptation

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Texas Temptation Page 153

by Kathryn Brocato

“It’s not obstructing if someone is being framed. I’ll protect their rights before they’re taken in for something they didn’t do.”

  “I can’t arrest this someone for killing these women unless I have probable cause.”

  She crossed her arms. “I don’t believe you. It’s a well-known fact you go after the most likely suspect in a homicide. And it’s always the boyfriend or spouse.”

  He slapped the folder down on his chair. “That’s because eight times out of ten, it is.”

  “Cody, he needs to know,” Dad said.

  What the hell? She stared at him. Why was he siding with a man he found to be a threat just five minutes ago? And didn’t he remember what happened to him when Momma was killed? “No. I’ll call in a lawyer before I tell.”

  “You’re being ridiculous. All I want to do is ask this person if they know anything that might help my investigation.”

  Right, and prairie dogs made holes in the ground to help ranchers plant grass. “Maybe so, but I’m not speaking.”

  They stared each other down. She would sit in a jail cell before she revealed the identity of Clarisa Jacobs’ ex-boyfriend. A disgusting, filthy jail cell. She suppressed the urge to shiver.

  Remy’s eyes darkened. Cody hated how the look turned her gut to mush and made her heart rattle against her ribs like it was in a cage. He’d been nothing but a heel-biting coyote, stirring up bad memories and unwanted desires. But she’d be hanged if she let him stare her down and win this battle.

  Behind her, a chair scuffed the carpet. “Detective, could you excuse us a moment?”

  Remy held her gaze a second longer, then nodded. He collected the folder and left the room.

  Once the door clicked shut, Cody faced Dad. His crow’s feet deepened as his gaze raked over her. He sighed and walked to the opposite side of the room. “I don’t know what’s got the burr under your saddle, young lady, but this is going to end right now. You’re gonna tell Detective LeBeau what you know or I will.”

  “I can’t, Dad. Have you forgotten what they did to you?”

  He stopped pacing and ran his fingers through his graying hair. “They’re not the enemy, Cody. I fully cooperated with the police and helped them in the end. If you keep this from Detective LeBeau, you’ll put yourself and JC in more trouble.”

  “I can’t turn my back on him. JC stuck by me through all the bad times in my life, and not once did he jeopardize our friendship.”

  “He nearly jeopardized your life.”

  “Bull hockey! I made those stupid decisions on my own. In fact, if I recall correctly, he’s the one who blew the whistle on me.”

  “Cody, your out-of-control drinking did that. JC only wised up when you nearly killed yourself with alcohol poisoning.”

  Her chest heaved as if she’d been punched in the solar plexus. Did he have to bring that up?

  Dad crossed the room and took hold of her arms. “I’m not saying he killed Clarisa. All I’m telling you is to let Detective LeBeau know. He’s the one who has to decide whether to question JC.”

  “Say I do tell LeBeau, and he decides JC is guilty. Then what?”

  “Welcome to the real world, Cody. Time to start handling it like the woman you are.”

  His words stung. The truth always did. She freed her arms and faced the window.

  Remy leaned against the opposite wall, flipping through a file as a white-coated woman explained something to him. As if sensing Cody’s scrutiny, he looked up.

  She nibbled her bottom lip. To keep something like this from him not only put her in a bind legally, but it would also have repercussions she wasn’t prepared to deal with.

  This sucks. Her hand shook as she opened the door. Remy handed the file back to the woman and returned to the room. Once the door was shut and he had resumed his seat, Cody left the doorway. “You can’t tell him I was the one who told you.”

  “He’ll figure it out at some point, Cody.”

  She pursed her lips. JC’s gonna kill me. “Clarisa Jacobs dated my best friend JC Manning for almost two years. They broke up about four years ago.”

  Remy jotted something on a sheet of paper taped to the folder. “How did the relationship end?”

  “The breakup was mutual. Clare knew JC had some hang ups, and she wasn’t ready to handle anything serious.”

  He looked her directly in the eye. “Was the same true even after the breakup?”

  “If you mean, when they saw each other at rodeos were there any hard feelings? No. Not that I saw.”

  Remy sat there, writing some notes on the paper. He didn’t speak for a moment. The silence grated on her nerves.

  “Are you done with me? I need to get to the Roundup.”

  He didn’t look up from his written thoughts. “Go ahead.”

  Cody glanced at her dad, then left the room. A hot coil wrapped around her heart and squeezed. The cold-hearted son-of-a-swamp-rat just sat there and didn’t offer any suggestions as to what he planned to do, or when. A strong urge fell over her to turn around and march back into the room to throttle him. But she had better things to do than show that arrogant detective what she really thought about him.

  • • •

  Remy’s rapid-fire knock startled Summers. He entered her office as she removed her glasses.

  “I’m here to see that crucial piece of evidence, like you asked.”

  She glanced at her watch. “You’re early.” With a sigh, she stood. “Guess I shouldn’t complain.”

  “Why would you?”

  Slipping around her desk, she motioned for him to follow her. “Long story.” She led him down the hall.

  “It’s been a long day. I just want to see what you have for me and go home.”

  With a glance over her shoulder, Jolene smiled. “I’m surprised you could sleep with this killer on the prowl again.”

  Remy shrugged one shoulder. If Cody entered his thoughts tonight, the Rodeo Sweethearts killer case would be the least of his worries. “So, what am I looking at?”

  Outside one of the labs, Jolene handed him gloves and snapped a pair on. “Our killer left something behind I don’t think he intended.” She backed into the door and held it open for him to enter.

  A thrill swept through Remy. Could he be that lucky where Moreno failed?

  Removing an evidence bag from one of the sterile boxes, Jolene slit open the tape and extracted the film. Remy’s heart raced.

  “You got a print?”

  She looked at him over the tops of her glasses. “He was careful until he touched one of the trailer doors.” She placed it under the microscope. “Take a look.”

  Peering through the lens, Remy studied the whorl. It looked like a thumbprint. “Any matches?”

  “Nope. I went over every print we took from the people Ms. Lewis could think of who was in her trailer.”

  “Did we get a JC Manning?”

  Scowling, Jolene flipped through the file, then shook her head. “There’s no mention of him, and we didn’t get any prints.”

  Damn Cody! She’d played hardball after IDing the Jacobs’s body. If Manning was an integral part of her life, how could she forget if he’d been in her trailer or not?

  “Do you know something I don’t, LeBeau?”

  He shook his head. “It’s speculation at this point. I’ll have a new set of prints for you to check tomorrow.”

  “All right.” Jolene returned the file and the evidence to their proper places. She turned suddenly. “One other thing.”

  Remy’s cell rang. He held up his hand and answered. “LeBeau.”

  “Get to the morgue now.” Rick practically barked at him.

  “Sure thing, doc. I’m at the crime lab.”

  “Make it fast.”

  “I’m on my
way.” Remy disconnected. “Sorry, gotta go.” He headed for the exit. “Thanks for the update, Summers.”

  “I … uh … sure.”

  He barreled through the lab door, stripped the gloves from his hands, and ran to his car. Rick was waiting for him when Remy strode down the hall.

  “What was so important I couldn’t finish up with the CSU supervisor?”

  Rick waved him into the autopsy room. “After I finished the autopsy, something didn’t sit right with me. I went over her again.”

  Clarisa Jacobs was laid out on the table, propped up on her right side. Remy frowned. “I thought you went over her with a fine-tooth comb the first time. What could you miss?”

  “Nothing.” Rick pulled back the sheet covering the woman’s body to reveal her left shoulder. “It’s what I found that bothered me. Like I’d seen it before.” With a gloved hand, he stretched a portion of her skin taut and pointed at the striation marks on her shoulder. “Tell me what you see.”

  Remy peered at the spot. They looked like deep scratches to him. “What am I supposed to see, doc?”

  “Look closely.”

  Squinting, he stared hard. Between the gouges he made out green ink. Remy reared back and gaped at Rick. “Was that a tattoo?”

  “I think so. And I don’t think the killer wanted us to see it.”

  “When her family gets here to ID the body, I’ll ask them about it.” And he’d ask JC Manning when he brought him in for questioning tomorrow. “I hope you gave us a break in this case.”

  “It’s going to take more than a tattoo to catch this guy.”

  “I know that and you know that. But our killer doesn’t know that.”

  Could it be possible? Had the Rodeo Sweethearts killer slipped up and given them the crucial evidence to stop him? It seemed too easy, like he’d planned it this way. But Remy wasn’t about to question the science now. Not when he could save another woman’s life.

  Chapter Nine

  “Where is she?”

  Cody skidded to a halt shy of the horse trailer’s corner. With one question JC’s agitated voice managed to sweep away her joy at winning the Roundup and heading to the finals. She stayed rooted in her hiding place, listening.

  “Manning, you mind telling me what’s got your dander up?” Dad asked.

  “That detective boyfriend of hers, that’s what. He wants me to come in tomorrow for questioning.”

  Melding into the trailer wall, Cody gasped. Remy had contacted JC already? Why didn’t he wait until tomorrow?

  “Detective LeBeau is just doing his job, JC,” Dad said. “Don’t make it more difficult than it already is.”

  “How do I make it difficult? Cody’s the one causing all the problems.”

  JC might as well have plunged a knife in her back. Wrapping her arms around her body, Cody sank to the ground, swallowing against the tightness in her throat.

  “Son, I’d suggest you head home and sleep it off.” Dad’s tone took a chilling turn. “Cody’s been through enough already.”

  “You always did treat her like a princess, Logan. The girl who could do no wrong. Funny how that got thrown back in your face.”

  At the crack of flesh on metal, Cody jerked.

  “Right now, I’m gonna overlook that comment, seeing as you’re under a lot of stress. But one more slight against your best friend, and I’m going to pop you one. Pack it up and go home, JC.”

  A few seconds passed before she heard the retreating footfalls. Tears slid down her cheeks. How could JC say that? This wasn’t her fault. She didn’t kill Heather Trisk or Clare. Why was he blaming her? Sniffing, she buried her face in her arms.

  Why is this happening?

  Tomorrow, she’d head over to JC’s place and talk to him, work this out.

  “Cody?”

  She lifted her head and turned her watery gaze to her father. He knelt and rubbed the pad of his thumb across her cheek.

  “You heard that?”

  Biting her lip, she nodded.

  Dad shook his head and sighed. “Don’t take it to heart. JC’s just blowing off steam.”

  “We don’t know that.”

  “Has he ever turned his back on you before?”

  Cody swiped her coat sleeve over her eyes. “No.”

  “Let him cool off. He’ll come around when he’s ready.”

  “With JC that could take forever. I’ll talk to him, explain what happ — ”

  “No.” Dad closed his eyes and took a few breaths before opening them again. “Cody, this isn’t like it was with your momma. You can’t fix every problem.”

  Hanging her head, she stared at the ground. “JC’s my best friend, Dad.”

  “And right now I think your friendship is the furthest thing from his mind. Don’t push it. Let LeBeau do his thing, and you stay out of it. As far as I’m concerned, your connection with this case is over.”

  Her head snapped up and she met her dad’s cold gaze. “We don’t know that. Clare and I are both redheads. And that first woman I found was too. What if I’m next?”

  “I highly doubt that.” Dad squeezed her shoulder. “Besides, I’m not letting you out of my sight. So, this nut job won’t have a chance to get his dirty paws on you.”

  Great, a twenty-four-hour watchdog. The last thing she needed.

  • • •

  Remy stared into the empty fridge. Maybe it was time to get some groceries. He let the door swing shut and rummaged through his bare cupboards. A run to the supermarket before work was in order.

  He was pulling out a lone box of cereal when lights slashed across the condo walls. Remy set the box on the counter and withdrew a hidden sidearm from a drawer. He crept to the edge of the kitchen, staring down the hall. Would they come to the front? His gaze slashed to the opposite end of the hall. Or the back? As a car door shut in the driveway, ice water coursed through his veins.

  The knock on the front door made him stiffen. A silhouette passed the side windows, then the person knocked again.

  He slinked down the hall, his body pressed to the wall. The shadow darkening the frosted glass again resembled a woman’s outline. Stashing the gun in the antique cedar sidebar, he flipped on the outside lights, eliciting a startled cry out of his visitor. Unlocking the door, he opened it a crack.

  With a sigh, he swung it open further. The CSU supervisor squinted at him.

  “Summers, what are you doing here?”

  A hesitant smile played at the corners of her lips, and she held up a large white paper bag. The spicy smell of Mexican made his stomach rumble.

  “I brought supper.” Summers rotated the bag to show Enrique’s Hacienda in bold red letters. “The guys told me Enrique’s was your favorite.”

  Remy crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb. “What did you bribe them with to get my address?”

  Averting her gaze, she rubbed the back of her hand down the side of her chin. “Uh, I actually went above their heads.” Her blue eyes met his. “Moreno laughed when I said it was a business supper.”

  Remy bit his bottom lip to stop the smile. “Did he?”

  “Look, I might be crossing a line here, but you bailed on me today.” She rubbed her arm. “The last thing I want to do is put one of the best homicide detectives in DPD in a bind.” Summers shivered. “Can I come in? It’s kinda chilly out here.”

  How could he argue with a cold woman holding food? Remy stepped back from the door and gestured for her to enter.

  With grateful smile, Summers crossed the threshold. “Wow. You got a nice place.”

  Remy paused as he passed her. “Thanks.”

  In the kitchen he grabbed a set of plates. Compared to the china set Marie used when they had company, his were plain. But the platters suited him, seeing as Hurric
ane Katrina probably destroyed Marie’s.

  Summers set the bag on the counter next to the plates. “You don’t like to clutter up your space with pictures and the like.”

  “Too much work to keep them dusted.”

  “That’s what maids are for.” She laid out the aluminum containers, peeled off the cardboard lids. “I wasn’t quite sure what you were in the mood for. I got enchiladas in mole sauce, chili rellenos, fajitas, and chile verde burritos. Pick your poison.”

  Remy settled on a stool on the other side of the counter. “Coming from you, that is just sadistic.”

  Her laughter filled the room. It was nice. Not the unflattering giggle most women gave him when they were flirting. He hesitated and shot a glance her way. Summers wasn’t flirting with him, was she? Mais sa c’est fou! While he prided himself on the ability to read a person well, two days wasn’t enough time to get a good read on her.

  Yet the same could be said of his time with Cody. Mais non, he’d lost his mind. Simple as that. Remy dished out some of the enchilada and speared a pepper.

  “What do you have to drink?”

  He glanced at his refrigerator. “Water.”

  Summers scowled. “Just water? No milk, wine, beer … not even soda?”

  Opening the fridge door, he showed her. “Empty.”

  “You need to get some groceries, LeBeau.” Her face brightened. “Wait.” She dashed from her chair and out the door, returning with a six-pack of Coke. “I forgot I bought these and left them in my car.”

  They spent a few minutes in silence enjoying the best of Enrique’s cuisine.

  “I gotta tell you, LeBeau. This case is a doozy from the perspective of a CSU supervisor.” Summers wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “We had some bad ones in Santa Fe, but I never worked a serial killer case. This your first?”

  “Yeah.” Not really. Remy sipped his Coke. “You said I bailed on you. Was there something else with the print?”

  Her fork clattered on the edge of the plate. “No.” She sighed. “Look, LeBeau, I can’t blow this. The department heads have me under the scope, so to speak.”

  “I could understand that since you’re new.”

 

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