by Webb, Debra
Louise Baron had graduated Summa Cum Laude from Vanderbilt University with a degree in Economics and History. Despite that accomplishment, she had never worked a day at anything other than being the senator’s wife and the mother to their two daughters. Sylvia had never understood that about her mother’s generation. Her mother had insisted that she loved her job as wife and mother and had no desire to do anything else.
Apparently, Sylvia had not inherited that gene.
Sylvia waved off her mother’s concerns. “I had a meeting that ran late.” She suddenly wondered what her mother would think of Buddy Corlew. Would she be mortified at his long hair and coarse ways? He certainly wouldn’t be the sort of man with whom the senator expected his daughter to be... involved.
Sylvia dismissed the idea. She and Buddy weren’t involved. They’d had one night of hot, crazy sex. Crazy being the operative word since they hadn’t used a condom. She barely stifled a groan. How could she have taken such a risk? The barrage of tests that followed had assured Sylvia that Buddy had indeed been as clean of STDs as he’d claimed. Thank God.
“You work far too hard, dear.”
Sylvia blinked, grateful her mother couldn’t read her mind. “Is Daddy home?”
“He’s watching the news in the family room.” Louise rolled her eyes. “I’d heard enough of that nonsense. I’ve been curled up in the parlor reading.”
They discussed the latest recommendation from her book club as her mother led the way to the family room. Before they reached the door, Sylvia heard her father arguing with the commentator. He’d always been quite vocal about his feelings, even when it was just him and the news. He’d been known to shred a newspaper from time to time.
“Robert, turn that television down,” Louise ordered. “Sylvia is here.”
The senator looked up, smiled, and immediately muted the program. “Is something the matter?” He eased forward, lowering the footrest of his recliner.
Before Sylvia could answer, her mother piped up, “I’ll make some tea.”
Sylvia sat down on the sofa. “I finished Judge Rutledge’s autopsy today.” Suddenly, she felt more mentally drained than she had since exams in medical school.
The senator raised his eyebrows. “Do the police have any leads on his killer?”
Sylvia shook her head. “There were no signs of breaking and entering. For now, they’re assuming he knew his killer.”
“He certainly made more than his share of enemies.”
“That seems to be the general consensus,” Sylvia agreed. “Have you spoken to any of your mutual associates?” Birmingham was one of Alabama’s largest cities, but it was still a relatively small town when it came to the who’s who. Most everyone knew everyone else.
“Over the past few years Rutledge more or less turned his back on those of us who had been his closest associates at one time. I imagine the usual crowd will attend his service out of respect.” With that declaration, he shifted his attention to the news scroll.
Sylvia hadn’t actually expected more than that and still she prodded. “Were the two of you in the Air Force together?”
A frown lined his forehead. “No. Why would you ask?”
She tapped her head, just above her right ear. “He has that same blue eagle tattoo. It’s exactly like yours. I thought maybe you served together.”
He shrugged. “He may have been in the service during the time I was away, I don’t know. Either way, we were both young and reckless at one time. Many soldiers found themselves permanently marked after a night of drinking with comrades.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“I spoke with Nina’s doctor today,” he said, his expression brightening. “It was good news all the way around.”
Louise arrived with the tea and homemade tea biscuits. Sylvia was grateful for the warm beverage. She hadn’t realized how cold she felt inside until she cradled the cup. “When is she coming home?”
“May first.” He exchanged a knowing smile with his wife as she got comfortable in her recliner. “We’re very excited. She’ll have a full-time nurse here at the house for as long as the doctor deems necessary. She’ll be seeing her doctor at UAB twice each week, but the therapist in New York will direct her care for the next several months.”
“That is excellent news.”
“We’re so grateful,” her mother said. “We weren’t sure this day would ever come.”
Sylvia had spoken with her sister’s lead therapist. There was some risk that her condition would deteriorate again but the prognosis was outstanding. “When she’s ready, we’ll host a long overdue welcome home party.”
“I’m already planning,” her mother said with a wide smile.
They talked for a while longer. Her mother insisted Sylvia try her new tea biscuit recipe. As she nibbled on the sweet cake, Sylvia’s appetite roused. She ended up having a chicken salad sandwich. Her mother made the very best chicken salad with pecans and grapes. The woman did love to cook. Sylvia much preferred to dine out. She was rarely home during mealtime anyway. On the rare occasion when she was it was far easier to order from her favorite restaurant. Cooking for one was more trouble than it was worth.
By the time Sylvia said her goodnights, she felt back on an even keel. Somehow her daddy always had that effect on her. He steadied her. He had that effect on most people. Staying in an elected office for most of his adult life was proof positive that his constituents saw him as strong and reliable.
In her car, she checked her cell. Three missed calls from Buddy and one voicemail as well as a thank-you text from Jess. Not in the mood to speak to Buddy again, she drove home. He couldn’t have any information already. Before she’d left his house he’d asked questions she wasn’t ready to answer—questions not relevant to the job she’d hired him to do. One way or the other she would get that point across to him. This was a business relationship. They were not friends. They certainly weren’t a couple. What happened that one night was never going to happen again... ever.
She drove through the quiet community of Mountain Brook until she reached her own home on Montevallo Road. Rather than park in the garage, Sylvia shut off the car in the driveway and stared at her home for a time. She’d bought this house the year she and Lieutenant Lawrence Grayson married. She’d been thirty-two at the time. It was her first and only marriage so she’d gone all out—a big wedding, a suitable home in the best neighborhood.
How had twelve years elapsed since then?
Honestly, even then she’d only married because everyone expected her to settle down. Her parents had liked Larry. What wasn’t to like? He’d been a good man, a decorated cop. But he’d wanted children. Sylvia had not. She hadn’t been able to have another child knowing what she’d done all those years ago. Eventually he’d turned his interests elsewhere, and they’d ended up getting divorced. His new wife had given him the child he desperately wanted. Unfortunately, she’d been murdered last year.
Life really could be ruthless sometimes. As much as she’d hated the other woman at first, Sylvia hadn’t been able to hold the divorce against her. It was Sylvia’s fault her marriage had ended. Her relationships since had all been about mutual gratification. A smile tugged at her lips. Detective Chad Cook had made her really feel again for the first time since the divorce, but he’d been young enough to be her son... not much older than the daughter she’d given away.
Chad had almost been killed by one of the followers of a vicious serial killer. Sylvia helped save his life. During his hospital stay she met his mother—a woman two years younger than her. Reality had hit home in that moment and Sylvia realized Chad needed to move on. He was a wonderful young man. He deserved a woman who wanted a future with him—a home and a family—not just hot sex.
“And then you went from bad to worse,” she grumbled as she climbed out of the car. She still blamed the break-up with Chad for her night of pure insanity when she’d gone home with Buddy Corlew.
Sylvia unlocked her front d
oor and quieted the security system. She closed the door and secured it, setting the alarm once more. As she turned from the door, the only sound was the soft tick of the antique grandfather clock her great-grandmother had brought to Birmingham from England. She dropped her keys on the hall table and headed for her bedroom. Halfway there she removed her heels and padded barefoot the rest of the way, her toes curling at the cool feel of the hardwood.
She grabbed the remote and turned on the television. There really wasn’t anything she wanted to watch, but the noise chased away the silence of living alone. After skimming the cable channels, she settled on the local late night news. A deep sigh of relief slipped past her lips as she peeled off her dress. She tossed it in the dry cleaning hamper, and then dispensed with her bra and panties.
The cool hardwood turned to cold tile as she entered the bathroom and a shiver sent goose bumps spilling over her skin. She set the temperature on her spa tub and let it fill while she removed her makeup. The reflection staring back at her from the mirror wasn’t so bad. She didn’t look her age. Careful attention to the needs of her skin and good genes had helped. She worked out every morning, maintaining a lean and toned figure.
From the outside, one would never know she was so empty and... lonely. Sylvia closed her eyes and shook her head. Denying the truth was pointless. It was true. She was lonely. She opened her eyes and stared at her reflection. She had numerous friends, a fulfilling career, and financial security. Why wasn’t that enough anymore?
Somehow all these weddings and babies had awakened a traitorous need to be the other half of something. Husband and wife... mother and daughter.
How utterly ridiculous was that? Sylvia Baron had always been perfectly content and fulfilled with herself.
Until now.
Now she was a jumble of uncertainty and urgent need.
She closed her eyes and thought of Buddy pulling her against him... touching her and kissing her until her body cried out for all of him. Somehow she couldn’t turn that need off more than three months later.
Maybe she had turned him off with her request. After all, what hot-blooded southern male wanted a woman who’d given her child away and never looked back?
“Maybe you are as cold-hearted as your ex and his friends think,” she accused the woman staring back at her.
Sylvia turned away from the mirror and climbed into the tub. She sank into the deliciously hot water, closed her eyes, and tried to relax. She banished the voices from the past and sought a calm, quiet place.
If only her mind hadn’t found Buddy there...
Chapter 8
Dell Road, Mountain Brook, 11:15 p.m.
Jess tossed aside the forensic report on the Rutledge homicide scene. Bear, her yellow Lab who looked more like a small pony than a dog, lifted his head and gazed at her. “Sorry, boy.” She scratched him behind the ears.
She was frustrated, that was all. The killer in this case had taken great care in not leaving identifiable evidence. The prints of the victim, his housekeeper, as well as his son and late wife had all been eliminated. Though his wife had been deceased for two years, her prints remained on the perfume bottles still sitting on the dressing table in her bedroom and anything else in the house that had been important to her. The housekeeper was never allowed to touch his wife’s belongings and treasures with anything other than a feather duster. The judge insisted that those things remain exactly as his wife had left them. Jess believed the man had a bigger heart than most who knew him believed.
The son, Harvey, proved little help to the investigation. He and his father hadn’t seen eye to eye, according to the son, since he graduated high school and decided to go into architectural engineering rather than law. Since his mother passed away, the son only came home for Christmas. He and his father spoke by phone occasionally and briefly, but saw each other only on that one day each year. If the judge had any enemies, the son had no idea who they might be or why any animosity existed. His father never mentioned any problems. All judges received threats at one time or another in their careers. Rutledge had suffered with plenty, including the attempt on his life, but none of the documented incidents were recent.
So far, those who knew the judge the best felt convinced that whomever had done this terrible thing was related in some way to a ruling he’d made on a case. No one could point to a specific case that stood out in his or her mind. Nearly all his rulings had been controversial, making most of them memorable.
Jess scowled at the pile of reports spread around her on the floor. How could the victim have had an enemy who hated him enough to take such a risk without anyone noticing that trouble was brewing? Entering a man’s home and creating a scene like the one found in Rutledge’s library took time and focus. Holding the judge hostage and worse in that very room required comprehensive planning and an equally comprehensive knowledge of the comings and goings at the judge’s home. None of his neighbors had noticed anything out of the ordinary.
The killer not only knew the judge, he had watched him and his housekeeper for a good long while before executing his plan. The judge had apparently allowed his killer into his home without resistance.
For now, Jess would keep her team focused on the death penalty cases of the past decade. Since all death penalty cases from the judge’s career had been plastered on that library wall, each one would be studied. One by one, relatives of each of the defendants were being interviewed and alibis confirmed. Jess heaved a weary breath. The trouble with that theory was that everyone they’d interviewed so far had an alibi.
Dan sat down on the floor next to her. Bear immediately shifted closer and rested his head against him. “It’s time to call it a day, Jess.” He removed her eyeglasses, folded them, and placed them on the coffee table. “You need rest. The baby needs you to rest. Even Bear is exhausted just watching you work.”
He was right. She placed her hands on her enormous belly. “Sorry. I lost track of time.” She’d promised him no more crawling into bed at midnight.
He smiled and her heart reacted. From the first time she laid eyes on him back in high school, she’d fallen for that smile and those dimples. And the blue eyes. Even now, more than two decades later, she melted just a little simply looking at him. Daniel Burnett completed her. She couldn’t begin to count the number of times he had told her the same. He made her so very happy. She couldn’t wait for the baby to come. The idea was still a little scary, but she believed without doubt that Dan would be an amazing father. His parents would be wonderful grandparents and her sister Lily would be the perfect aunt.
Jess aspired to be even half as good a mother as Dan would be a father.
He kissed her temple. “How about I organize all this for you? I’ll leave it on your desk while you go get ready for bed.”
Dan had insisted that all work was to be left at the office or kept in the home office. Jess had always created a case board at home. At her last place, she used the living room wall. With the baby coming, taping photos of victims and suspects on a common wall was not a good idea. She surveyed the wall of her office where Dan had installed an enormous white board. This worked just fine.
“You’ll have to help me up.” She turned to him and made a face. “Getting on all fours and crawling to the desk to help myself up isn’t exactly attractive.”
Dan laughed. “You might be surprised how attractive I would find you in any position.”
“Ha ha. Now help me up.”
Dan got to his feet and held out his hands. Jess put her hands in his and first moved up on her knees, then to her feet.
“Thank you. Oh!” She pressed her hand to her belly. “I guess the baby didn’t like it that I got up and disturbed her sleep.” Jess laughed as she placed Dan’s hand to her belly. “Do you feel that?” The baby moving still amazed her. At first, it had been nothing more than those little butterfly wing flutters. Eventually, she’d felt the kicks and then it was the baby moving around. There wasn’t a lot of room left these days so the
baby’s movements were particularly startling at times.
Dan’s grin made her heart perform another of those happy little pitter-patters. “I can’t believe he will be here in a mere twenty days.”
“She will be here before we know it,” Jess teased. They had this ongoing banter about the gender of the baby.
“A little Jess will be fine by me.” Dan scooped up the reports.
Jess grabbed a pile and carried it to her desk. If she didn’t help, Dan would be in here all night. He had a desk on the other side of the room that sat in front of the windows overlooking the backyard. Jess had wanted hers close to her case board. Besides, the gardens could be too distracting. Under the meticulous direction of Katherine, she and Dan had planted hundreds of bulbs in early December. Now those gorgeous tulips provided a river of color around the yard. The landscape lighting showcased clumps of brilliant reds and soft pinks as well as rich purples. She’d never had a flower garden much less a vegetable garden but they’d already planned out a small vegetable plot.
Eating healthy was more important than ever now. They were going to be parents. Setting a good example in all things was important. No more M&M stashes—at least not at home.
When her work piles were organized on her desk, Dan turned out the lights. “Did Lily tell you she found a magician for Maddie’s birthday party?”
“That’s great.” Jess wrapped her arm around his as they headed for their bedroom. Bear followed close behind them. “Maddie seems so happy.”
Four-year-old—soon to be five—Maddie was the daughter of the half-sister Jess and Lil hadn’t known about until a few months ago. Amanda Brownfield, a serial killer herself, had ended up a victim of the infamous serial killer Eric Spears. Lily and her husband Blake had adopted Maddie. Between Maddie and Lil’s college kids, Blake Junior and Alice, the baby had three sweet cousins and a loving aunt and uncle awaiting her arrival.
Not to mention one exuberant great aunt. Jess had resisted accepting Wanda Newsom back into her life, but she’d come around eventually. Wanda was the only blood relative Jess and Lil had left other than their children. They had learned a great deal last year about the parents they’d lost when they were children. Eric Spears, the depraved serial killer who had been obsessed with Jess, had unearthed all the family secrets and used them to taunt her. She shivered at the vile memories. Obsession was just one of the many faces of evil she had discovered about Eric Spears.