by Gerri Hill
“I know Rick probably hasn’t told you, but he missed you like crazy. I’ve heard more Jake stories in the last ten weeks,” she said with a laugh.
Jake brought her thoughts back to the present, pushing Nicole from her mind. “I missed him, too. It was good to be back at the station today.”
“So you’re cleared?”
“Yeah. Doc checked me out yesterday.” Jake stared at Michele, wondering what was up. She was acting weird. She knew Michele was somewhat jealous of the bond that she and Rick had formed. When they first got married, Michele hadn’t wanted anything to do with Jake. But occasionally, like now, Rick would ask her over for steaks, and she and Michele had gotten to know one another better. They weren’t what Jake would call good friends, but they got along well enough. “So,” she asked, “what’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
“What’s on your mind, Michele?”
Michele looked out the window then quickly back at Jake. “I’m just worried. I want to make sure you’re well enough to be back.”
Jake nodded. “You’re worried I won’t be able to back up Rick, is that it?”
“Or that you’ll be… afraid.”
Jake narrowed her eyes. “Afraid? Afraid to pull my weapon?”
Michele touched Jake’s arm. “Rick has not said anything. But some of the other guys have brought it up, and I know it’s crossed his mind.”
“Well don’t worry. I talked to the shrink yesterday, too.”
“I’m sorry, Jake. But…”
“But he’s your husband. I understand.”
Rick came back in smiling. “God, I love grilling steaks. It’s such a manly job.”
Jake rolled her eyes.
“It is, and you know it.”
Jake reached over and squeezed Rick’s arm. “It’s good to be back, buddy. But remember, I’m the one that taught you how to grill steaks.”
Rick laughed. “Yeah. Like I said. It’s a manly job!”
“Very funny.”
———
“A margarita, please,” Nicole said to the waiter. “On the rocks.”
“I want frozen,” Catherine said. “No salt.”
Nicole reached in the basket of chips and slid the salsa bowl closer. This was a good idea. She hadn’t been out for dinner with a friend in ages. Usually, she had to make inane conversation with a blind date at a formal restaurant.
“Thanks for making me do this,” she said.
“You’re welcome. I knew it was time. The spark that was in your eyes when you came back from the mountains disappeared the second day.”
“Oh really? A spark, huh.”
“Yes. In fact, if I didn’t know you as well as I do, I’d say you took my advice and got laid.”
Nicole nearly spit out her chip, and she was thankful the waiter chose that moment to bring their drinks. At first, she had planned to tell Catherine about Jake. She knew Catherine would find it quite amusing. But, as the days passed and she finished her trip, alone, she realized that she would never tell Catherine. What started out as a day—and night—of wild sex had turned into an intimate tryst with a stranger. And it was something Nicole wanted to keep private. Not have Catherine tease her about it.
But she wasn’t to be spared. Catherine drummed her fingers on the table, staring.
“Out with it.” She leaned closer. “I can’t believe you had sex and didn’t tell me!”
“What makes you think I had sex?” Nicole asked weakly.
“Well, you’re blushing. That’s a dead giveaway.”
Nicole let out a heavy sigh. “Okay. I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you to make fun of me,” Nicole admitted.
“Make fun? I want to applaud you! I didn’t think you had it in you.”
Nicole sipped from her drink, then sat up straight. “Oh, Catherine, it was the weirdest thing. I got lost and just stumbled upon her. She and Cheyenne were camping at some hot springs.”
“Cheyenne?”
“Her dog.”
“And does she have a name?”
Nicole swallowed. “Her name was… Jake.” It was the first time she’d said the name out loud, and she was surprised at the way her heart skipped.
“Jake? A woman?”
“It’s a nickname she was given as a kid.”
“Oh, God. I can see it now. Some big butch woman.”
“She was not. She was quite attractive.”
“I bet.” Catherine leaned closer. “Let me guess. Short, short hair? Not a stitch of makeup? Wore men’s clothes?”
“First of all, I didn’t wear a stitch of makeup either. We were camping. And secondly, are jeans considered men’s clothing? If so, I was in men’s clothes.”
“So I was right. Short, short hair.”
“Well, it may have been a little short,” Nicole admitted. “But she wasn’t… she wasn’t butch. She was… handsome.”
“Handsome?”
“Yes. You know how some women are handsome?”
“She’s a dyke. You slept with a dyke? What were you thinking?”
“You told me to let my hair down,” Nicole reminded her.
“Yeah. But, I was thinking more along the lines of your usual dates. Feminine, pretty, someone you can take home to meet mom. Not someone who looks like a man.”
“She did not look like a man, trust me.”
“You called her handsome.”
Nicole leaned forward, speaking quietly. “Catherine, I met her around five o’clock one afternoon and within thirty minutes, we were naked together in the hot springs. By ten the next morning, we were making love in those same hot springs.”
“Damn,” Catherine whispered.
Nicole blushed. “Even in my wildest dreams, I never would have suspected I was capable of doing what I did. We spent liter-ally hours together, and I was insatiable.”
“Who started it? Did you come on to her?”
“I don’t really know what happened. It was like I was under a spell or something. And you’re right, she’s certainly not my type, but I was so attracted to her, I couldn’t even think straight.”
“Well, what happened?”
“She got me up to see the sunrise. It was beautiful. Then I went into the springs to bathe, knowing that she would come. I could see it in her eyes. And I wanted her to come to me.”
“And she did?” Catherine whispered.
“She walked to the springs, taking her clothes off as she watched me. Our eyes were locked together. It was like in the movies. She didn’t say a word. Neither did I. She walked right up to me, and the next thing I know, we’re kissing and touching and… God, I’ve never had so many toe-curling orgasms in my life,” Nicole whispered. “I was actually screaming, Catherine. Screaming.”
“Jesus Christ,” Catherine murmured. She took a swallow from her drink and fanned herself. “Is it getting hot in here or what?”
Nicole blushed.
“So? Where does she live? What does she do?”
Nicole shook her head. “I have no idea. We never really talked. And then, I guess I freaked out the next morning and left.”
“Well, it is so out of character for you, I’m not surprised. I’m sure you were embarrassed.”
“That and… well, the dream.”
“You had a dream?”
“No. She did. That night. She was talking about shooting and killing someone. I’d convinced myself I’d just had sex with a hired killer.”
Catherine laughed. “And you left? Why didn’t you just ask what she did for a living?”
“What good would that have done? And it didn’t matter, anyway. I needed to be on my way.”
“Wow. I can’t believe that happened to you. I’m so proud of you,” she teased. “You let your hair down, all right!”
“Please stop. This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to tease. But Nicole, that is just so not you.”
“I know that
. Once I came to my senses, I realized how foolish I’d been. I mean, she was a stranger. She could have been a serial killer, for all I knew. Not to mention, we weren’t exactly having safe sex. The thought never crossed my mind. I just wanted her hands on me.”
“Okay. Enough. I don’t really want details.”
Nicole closed her eyes for a second, remembering. And realizing that Jake had most likely ruined her for life. She doubted she’d ever have a sexual partner that could compare. She pushed thoughts of Jake aside, tucking them deep down where they belonged.
Nicole cleared her throat. “So, you think we should go back to group sessions?”
Catherine smiled. “Safer subject?”
“Much.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“I’m Detective Chase. This is Detective McCoy,” Rick said, introducing them to the chief of the airport police. “My lieutenant spoke with you yesterday.”
The older man looked up, peering at them over his glasses. “Oh, yeah. Gregory. Come in.”
Jake looked around, impressed. Their offices were top-notch. New, flat-panel monitors sat on every desk, unlike her own squad room. They must have a hell of a budget. She shoved her hands in the pockets of her slacks and waited while he shuffled through files on his desk. Rick was impatiently tapping his index fingers together.
“Here you go.” He handed the file to Rick without even a glance at Jake. “That’s our field work and investigation. I sent the initial ME’s report over to your lieutenant. I’m sure it’ll be a few days before they get it all worked up.”
“Yes, we have the initial report. Thank you.”
Jake cleared her throat. “I’d like to see the crime scene.”
“Oh, we’ve gone over it, detective. It’s clean. She was just dropped there.”
“I’d still like to see it.” She gave what she hoped was a genuine smile. “It gives us more of a… a feel for the case.”
“If you don’t mind, of course,” Rick added quickly.
“No, I don’t mind. I think it’s just a waste of time, is all. I’ll have one of my officers take you out there.”
“Thanks very much,” Jake said, extending her hand. He took it briefly, not bothering to meet her eyes. Asshole. Probably a retired sheriff from some small town in the plains, she guessed.
They followed Officer Whitten outside, and Rick nudged Jake with his elbow. “Play nice,” he whispered.
“I hate men.”
“I know that.”
Officer Whitten politely held open the back door for Jake, and she scowled at Rick, who hopped into the front seat.
“Were you out at the scene when they found her?” Rick asked.
“Oh, yeah. We all were.”
“Lovely,” Jake murmured. She imagined the entire airport police force traipsing over the scene.
She and Rick looked at each other when he stopped. They were a good distance from the main runways, following the outer loop road. But still, they appeared to be nowhere special.
“This is it,” he finally said when neither she nor Rick moved.
“Where’s the crime scene tape?” Jake asked.
“Oh, we took it down.”
“But, you had the crime lab out here, right?” Rick asked.
“No. The ME’s office took pictures. We did, too. But there was nothing here. She was just dumped here. She was totally nude. There wasn’t even a hairclip.”
Jake got out, slamming her door with as much force as she could muster. Idiots. “You looked for tire prints, right?”
“Tire prints?”
“So you’re saying the scene’s been contaminated?” Rick asked.
“You didn’t take tire prints? Footprints? You didn’t have the crime lab out? People have been walking all over the place?”
“Hey man, she was just dumped here. There wasn’t even any blood. I don’t believe there were any tire prints or footprints. My captain said to take the tape down as soon as they moved her body.”
Jake walked away from the road, seeing the matted grass, the numerous footprints. Jesus. She shook her head. Any evidence that had been here was long gone.
“How could someone get out here?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
Jake flicked her eyes at Rick. “I mean, how could someone, a civilian, get out here to dump the body? This area is secured, right?”
“Oh, yeah. Airport personnel only.”
“So, if we’re to believe that, an airport employee dumped the body. Right?”
“Well, I suppose.”
“Any video surveillance out here?” Rick asked.
“No. Not out here. There’s nothing this far out.”
“You’ve checked the fence line, made sure there wasn’t a breach there?”
“Well, yeah. Right around here.”
“How about we check the entire perimeter?” Jake suggested.
“Now?”
She shrugged. “We’ve got time. You got time?”
“I guess. Let me call the chief.”
“Yeah, you do that,” she murmured.
“Play nice,” Rick said again as they got back in the car.
———
Jake’s leg was aching when they returned to the station, and she struggled not to limp. The chief had approved their request to search the perimeter fence. On foot. So she, Rick, and Officer Whitten walked the entire goddamn length of fence, finding two gaps. Only one was close enough to have dragged a body. The other was on the opposite side of the airport.
They called the crime lab out before airport security could trample the scene.
“You look beat,” Rick said.
“I’m okay.”
“If you’re in pain, you need to tell me. There’s no sense in…”
“Rick, I’m okay,” she insisted.
Their lieutenant walked over, file in hand. “Got a name on your vic. Sandra Poole. It’s not very pretty,” he said, handing Jake the file. “Find anything at the airport?”
“Broken fence, if you can believe that. Two spots. The FAA is going to have a field day,” Rick said.
“This woman was battered,” Jake said, reading the file. “Raped and beaten by her husband.”
“Three years ago. And we already checked. He’s still locked up tight.”
“We’re hoping the crime lab might find something at the fence. Where they found the body, the scene’s been contaminated. No way we can get anything there,” Rick told him.
“She’s got a grown daughter. Lives in Littleton.” Jake looked up from the file. “Maybe Sandra Poole had a new boyfriend. Battered women tend to pick the same losers.”
“Check her out. I’ll let you know if they turn up anything at the airport.”
She could feel Rick watching her, and she glared at him. “Rick, I’m fine. The leg’s a little sore, that’s all.”
“Too much walking?”
“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”
“Well, it’s already three. You want to hit Littleton tomorrow?”
“Let’s run a check on the daughter, see where she works. I doubt she’s going to be home at three in the afternoon.”
“Okay. I’ll do it.”
“Where’s the file on the first vic? You got it in the computer yet?”
Rick snorted. “Yeah, right. That was always your job.”
She held her hand out. “Give it to me.”
Jake spent the next half hour going over the file and the short version of the ME’s report while Rick was on the phone. Three years ago, Helen Thornton was hospitalized for over a week. She pulled up medical records on the computer, frowning as she read.
“What?”
“The first victim, same thing.”
“What are you talking about?”
Jake showed him the report. “Three years ago, she was in the hospital. I pulled up medical, she’d been raped and beaten by her husband.”
“Got to be a coincidence. I mean, come on. Unless these women knew each
other.”
“Doubtful. Helen Thornton lived in an apartment east of downtown. Sandra Poole was suburbs. Don’t see a connection.” Jake scanned the file. “And different hospitals.”
“Okay. The daughter works for a real estate agency in Littleton. We’ll check her out in the morning.”
Jake stared at the file. “Both raped and strangled,” she murmured, shaking her head. “Can’t be a coincidence. And where’s the complete ME’s report?” she asked, shuffling through the papers.
“I guess I haven’t gotten it yet.”
“Have you asked?”
“That was normally your job, too.” Rick leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Glad you’re back, McCoy. I’d hate to have this case, just me and the lieutenant.”
“Has he been your backup?”
“Hell, yeah. I mean, I like him fine, but…”
“He’s not me?”
“He’s so fucking by the book, it’s scary.”
Jake laughed. “Guess that’s why he’s made lieutenant.”
“You want to go get a beer?”
“Are you trying to piss Michele off or what?”
“No, I just missed hanging out with you. You’ve been gone nearly three months, Jake.”
“Well, thanks. But I’m going to head home. Cheyenne will be waiting.”
“I swear. You treat that dog like she’s your kid.”
Jake raised an eyebrow. “What’s your point?”
“My point is, she’s a dog. She’s not going to know if you’re late. I don’t think they can tell time, Jake.”
“Of course they can tell time.”
“Come on. One beer.”
Jake leaned forward and smiled. “Ricky, we both know that Michele only tolerates me. Why do you want to piss her off by going out for a beer with me?”
“Jake, maybe I need… to talk.”
Jake sighed. “What’s going on?”
Rick shrugged. “Divorce rate on the force is seventy-five percent. That’s what’s going on.”