The Dying Room: A Faces of Evil Novel

by Webb, Debra

  “You cold?” Dan hugged a protective arm around her.

  “I was just thinking about Mom and Dad.”

  “And Spears?”

  Jess hesitated and looked into Dan’s eyes. She nodded. “Sometimes he still haunts my dreams.”

  “He can’t ever hurt you or anyone else again.”

  He absolutely could not. Jess had put a bullet in his evil head. Since Spears had no family, the state had been responsible for his final arrangements. Jess had made sure he was cremated. She’d personally escorted his body and watched the entire cremation process. She had needed to see him burn. His ashes had been taken to the landfill and dumped like the garbage he had been.

  She brushed her teeth while Dan drew back the covers. She’d taken her shower and pulled on her gown after dinner. She’d learned as the weeks of the third trimester passed that she ran out of steam early. It was best not to assume she could work late and then manage to go through the usual nightly rituals.

  Dan helped her into bed, adjusting her pregnancy pillow, and tucking the covers around her. She watched as he rounded the big bed, pausing to give Bear a loving pat. Bear slept at the foot of the bed on a big, fluffy doggie pillow of his own.

  A smile broadened her lips as Dan climbed in on his side, and then turned off the lamp on the side table. A nightlight in the bathroom allowed for those middle of the night trips—another third trimester perk.

  “I’m thinking of putting Lieutenant Hayes in charge of SPU while I’m on maternity leave.” Jess snuggled closer to Dan and felt her whole body sigh in happiness.

  Though Hayes outranked him, Harper had been in charge while Jess and Dan were on their honeymoon. Hayes initial inability to fit in with the team had been the primary reason. He’d repeatedly ignored Jess’s orders. While they were on their honeymoon, Dan had admitted that he’d instructed Hayes to keep an eye on Jess, going a long way to explain the lieutenant’s un-team like behavior. To her surprise, Jess had laughed when Dan made the heartfelt confession. Dan had been so worried that she would be angry. She was pretty sure that was the reason he’d waited until they were on their honeymoon before fessing up. The truth was, Dan had been right to worry about her. She’d so desperately needed to stop Spears that she had taken far too many risks with her safety.

  “Hayes has certainly earned your respect.” Dan kissed her forehead. “He seems to work well with the team now. I think the surprise birthday party Harper and Wells planned for him says it all.”

  “I agree. Cook really likes him.” Hayes had gone above and beyond to help Cook prepare for his detective’s exam.

  “I think putting him in charge is the right decision.”

  “This is nice.”

  “Which part?” Dan kissed her again, his lips lingering at her temple. “The part where I offer to kiss every inch of you or the new shower gel scent that makes me think of those long, hot nights in Barbados on our honeymoon.”

  Jess giggled. “The part where I can have the chief of police’s ear any time I want it, like now in the middle of the night.”

  “Seriously?”

  She turned her face up to his. “Actually, I really like that offer of you kissing every inch of me.”

  He growled as he brushed kisses along her cheek. “My pleasure.”

  He moved the body pillow aside and started a slow, lingering path down her throat. Jess closed her eyes and allowed the sweet sensations to chase away all thoughts of victims and suspects and murder.

  Her time with Dan was far too precious to take for granted... even for work.

  Chapter 9

  Jefferson County Coroner’s Office

  Tuesday, March 31, 10:30 a.m.

  “The external examination of Jane Doe is complete,” Sylvia announced for the audio recording of the autopsy. She sighed and surveyed the deceased once more before taking the next step. The elderly woman’s body was discovered in Railroad Park one week ago. Her autopsy had been delayed by the two recent homicides, which included Judge Rutledge’s.

  Sylvia prepared to make the Y incision. Based on the external examination, she felt reasonably confident the woman had died of natural causes. However, the bump on the right side of her head as well as a bruise on her right forearm combined with her unattended death dictated the need for an autopsy.

  The door behind Sylvia opened. “Dr. Baron?”

  “Yes?” Sylvia snapped. The staff knew very well that she was not to be interrupted when performing an autopsy. She scowled at Tammy Lang, the receptionist, who dared to do so anyway.

  “I’m sorry to bother you, but he says it’s an emergency.”

  Sylvia placed the scalpel back on the table and removed the splatter guard and facemask. “He who?”

  If her boss had called an emergency staff meeting, then he could fill her in later. Sylvia didn’t bow to his or anyone else’s demands in the middle of an autopsy. Or any other time for that matter. Dr. Martin Leeds was well aware of her rules.

  “Mr. Corlew.” Tammy shrugged. “He’s waiting in your office. I told him you couldn’t be disturbed, but he said he wasn’t leaving until he spoke with you. Should I call security?”

  Dear God. “No, that won’t be necessary.” Sylvia removed her gloves and squared her shoulders. “Thank you, Tammy.”

  Tammy nodded, her expression reflecting her confusion and curiosity. Far too wise to ask questions, she hurried away, the door closing quietly behind her.

  Sylvia removed her disposable lab coat and left the autopsy room. On the way to her office she considered the various options for putting Corlew in his place. Obviously, he intended to have answers to his intrusive questions and had decided to throw his weight around to get them.

  Well, she hoped whatever he had to say was worth it because she felt like pinning him on a cold steel table in an autopsy room and ripping open his torso from shoulders to pelvis. She had taken a huge risk sharing her secret with him. If he made her regret that decision he would absolutely wish he’d chosen otherwise.

  Buddy stood behind her desk studying the diplomas and awards on the wall. She walked in and closed the door, the sound drawing his attention to her. For four of five seconds she only stared at him. Not once in her life had she been so enamored by a man so... rough around the edges.

  He wore his usual fare. An unbuttoned shirt, he hadn’t bothered to tuck into those well-worn, body-hugging jeans, exposed a skintight gray tee. Then there were those battered and somehow immensely sexy cowboy boots. But it was the long hair—longer than hers—that set him so far apart from any other man she’d ever had dinner with much less mind-blowing sex.

  “I don’t know what you pay your secretary,” he said as he stepped away from her desk, “but you should give her a raise. She’s a bulldog.”

  To regain some physical as well as emotional distance, Sylvia moved past him to stand behind her chair. Even putting both the chair and the desk between them failed to provide an effective buffer. “I was in the middle of an autopsy. Why are you here?”

  He picked up the framed photograph from her desk. The picture of her with her sister was more than a decade old. Happier times.

  “I thought of a few more questions I needed to ask you.” He placed the photo back on her desk. “I called you last night and then again this morning, but you didn’t call me back.”

  Her fingers squeezed into the leather of her executive desk chair. “I think I made myself clear about answering any other questions.”

  “Okay. So you’re not going to tell me the father’s name.” His gaze zeroed in on hers, his smoky gray eyes making her instantly uncomfortable in her clothes. “Did you inform him before proceeding with the adoption?”

  Tension trickled through her. “I did not. No. He made it clear he wasn’t interested in me, marriage, or in children. There was no reason to tell him. The adoption was a private one that didn’t include unnecessary questions or stipulations.”

  “Before I go any further,” he warned, somehow seeming closer, �
��you need to think about the legal ramifications of what you did back then.”

  Anger ignited inside her. “Of what I did back then?” She jammed the chair against her desk and stalked around to the other side to confront him face-to-face. “Do you have any idea how difficult it was for me to come to you with this?”

  He held her furious gaze without flinching. “I have a pretty damned good idea.”

  “Then why are you determined to make me regret my decision?” For years she had pretended it never happened. She had blocked the memories of her rounded belly and of the fierce pains of childbirth. And the cries... the sound of her daughter’s first cries still echoed through her from time to time. She had blocked those memories just as she had any happy moments from her ten-year, ill-fated marriage. Sylvia Baron was an expert at burying feelings... at hiding the hurt.

  His hands were on her arms and pulling her close before she could bat them away. “I never want you to regret anything you share with me.”

  If he hadn’t murmured the words so tenderly... so honestly she might have been able to stay angry and push him away but he had and she could do nothing except lean into him.

  “You did what you had to do,” he whispered against her hair, those strong arms holding her so tight. “No one can fault you for that. I’m just not sure you’re seeing past your emotions.”

  Sylvia grappled for her composure. She drew back from him, his touch falling away, leaving her feeling cold and empty. “This was not a snap decision. I’ve struggled with it for months.”

  “Everything about your life will change. The father could cause trouble for you personally and to your professional reputation. Before I go beyond the point of no return, I need to be certain this is what you really want.”

  Drawing in a deep breath, Sylvia steeled herself. “This is what I want. I’m prepared for meeting any legal challenges that may arise. If you choose not to take my case I would appreciate a recommendation for another investigator you feel is trustworthy and reliable.” There. She’d said it. There was no turning back. This was the right thing to do. This was what she wanted to do. No question.

  “Have you talked to your parents?” He stood firm with his questioning. “This affects them as well.”

  Sylvia folded her arms over her chest. He was not changing her mind. “I have not told another living soul except you.” She searched his face. If she didn’t know better she would think he was the one having trouble with moving forward. “Are you not up to the challenge of getting the job done?”

  He hesitated and another burst of fury flamed through her. “Are you operating under the delusion that our one-night stand somehow gives you some stake in my wellbeing? Don’t flatter yourself, Mr. Corlew. We had sex. Granted it was good sex—”

  “Great,” he corrected. “We had great sex.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’ve had great sex with my vibrator. That doesn’t mean I plan to start consulting it regarding difficult decisions.”

  He propped his hands on his hips. “Your vibrator? Really? Can your vibrator make you scream its name? Or beg for more?”

  Heat rushed up her cheeks, but it was the heat that roared to life between her legs that truly infuriated her. “Are you taking my case or not?”

  He stepped closer, nose-to-nose. “I’m on it, Doc. I will find her, and then I’ll do whatever you want me to do. Just remember when the shit hits the fan that I warned you to think carefully before you started down this path.”

  All she had to do was tilt her head just a little and then lean in the slightest bit and their lips would touch. The thought of having his mouth on hers had her burning up... had her melting faster than sugar in hot tea.

  “Got it. Now get out of my office.”

  He stared at her lips, licked his own. “Whatever you want.”

  He turned and walked away. Sylvia inhaled a ragged breath. Her whole body trembled with need as she watched him swagger to the door. If he’d held out one more second—

  The door lock clicked.

  She snapped to attention. He’d... locked the door!

  Slowly, he turned to face her once more. Before she could find her voice he’d closed the distance between them and pulled her against his hard body.

  “You might fool everyone else, but you don’t fool me.” He kissed her hard. The fingers of one hand dove into her hair, while the other found her breast and squeezed.

  Her knees buckled. She whimpered. One skilled hand slid down over her hip. He squeezed her bottom while his mouth continued to plunder hers.

  He backed her against her desk and she gasped, the sound lost to his hot, punishing kisses. Before she could summon the wherewithal to do more than whimper, he dragged the hem of her dress to her hips and spread her legs apart. A finger slid inside her, then another. She whimpered.

  “God, you are so damned wet.”

  “You should leave,” she said, the words panting out of her... her thighs trembling.

  “Tell me you don’t want me.” He unbuttoned his fly, lowered the zipper. “Tell me that fire isn’t for me.” He stroked her possessively.

  Speech was impossible... she could scarcely breathe...

  He shoved his briefs out of the way and nudged her intimately. The battle was lost. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he dove into her. The sound of papers sliding across her desk and slipping to the floor only made her more desperate. His fingers lowered the zipper of her dress, following the curve of her spine. He dragged the fabric down her chest, exposing her satin encased breasts.

  “You are so damned gorgeous.” He ground his pelvis into hers, letting her feel how deep inside her he was. He slid his tongue between one lacy satin cup and her breast, then toyed with her nipple with his teeth.

  She bit her lips together to hold back the scream. Her fingers buried in all that long hair as she lifted her hips to meet his slow, deep thrusts. Everything that was wrong in her life slipped away, leaving her feeling nothing but a desperate need for his touch... for all of him.

  She came twice before he finished. Even then, she wanted more.

  If only he’d simply zipped his fly and walked out when he’d finished, maybe she could have hated him for making her so weak. Maybe she could have cursed him for being a bastard.

  He didn’t.

  Like everything else about Buddy Corlew, his tenderness after lovemaking was unexpected. As soon as he’d righted his jeans, he grabbed tissues from the box on her desk and cleaned her. Slipped her panties back into place and adjusted her bra and dress, lastly tugging her zipper back into place. Then he smoothed her hair and smiled down at her before dropping one last kiss on her lips.

  “I’ll call you.”

  “No.” How she summoned the ability to utter the one word, she wasn’t sure.

  He hesitated at the door and stared expectantly at her.

  She lifted her chin and met his gaze with the defiance for which she was known. “I don’t want to hear from you again until you have what I’m paying you to find.”

  For three seconds that lapsed into five he merely stared at her. “Whatever you want.”

  And then he was gone. Sylvia passed a shaky hand over her face. Okay. Pull yourself together. She gathered the scattered papers and tidied her desk. When her respiration had evened out, she smoothed her palms over the skirt of her dress and headed to the ladies room.

  This wasn’t the first time she’d had sex in her office. There had been a couple of other incidents. This was, however, the first time she wasn’t in control. Buddy Corlew made her lose control. No other man had ever been able to make that happen.

  Ten minutes later, she was back in the autopsy room wearing gloves, splatter shield, facemask, and lab coat ready to continue. She stared at the elderly woman who had died alone in that park.

  She didn’t want to die alone. She didn’t want to continue proving what people said about her behind her back. She wasn’t entirely self-sufficient or completely heartless as they accused. She had f
eelings and needs. She wanted things...

  She wanted to spend more time with the living than with the dead.

  Chapter 10

  Birmingham Police Department,

  Special Problems Unit, 11:15 a.m.

  Jess tapped the photo of Reed Summers, the brother of the last prisoner to be executed under Rutledge’s authority. “Let’s question him again. He’s the only one whose alibi we haven’t been able to confirm.”

  “Even if we find the prostitute he claims he took home with him, can we rely one way or the other on her testimony?” Lori joined Jess at the case board.

  Jess shrugged. “Frankly, I don’t think we’ve interviewed our killer yet.” Jess surveyed the row of faces, male and female. The list of close family and friends whose loved ones were sentenced to death by Judge Rutledge had been now narrowed down to a mere dozen. Yet, not one of those appeared to have sufficient motive in Jess’s opinion. The sister of the bomber had moved to Florida to live with her daughter. She hadn’t even realized Rutledge was dead much less murdered.

  “I’m not feeling it either,” Lori agreed.

  Detective Chad Cook rose from his desk and swaggered over to join them. Jess smiled inside as she noted the limp he’d struggled with was almost gone now. The young man had worked hard to come back from almost dying at the hands of one of Eric Spears’s followers.

  “We’re not even close.” He braced his hands on his narrow hips and shook his head. “We’re missing something by looking only at the people who had reason to hate the judge. What if the killer was expecting something he didn’t get? Maybe the judge promised a ruling he didn’t deliver and all this stuff about those he gave the death sentence is just smoke and mirrors.”