Love Inspired Suspense April 2015 #1

by Terri Reed

  “Irene!”

  Irene snorted. “Don’t ‘Irene’ me. I see the way you two look at each other. And I think it’s great. It’s about time my brother let himself feel something more than duty.” Sadness touched her pretty face. “And I hate the way he blames himself for Ellie’s death.”

  “How could that possibly have been his fault?”

  “Oh, sweetie, deep inside he feels that he should have been able to protect her—or at least figure out what was wrong in time to get her some help. She was his baby sister, but in many ways he was a father to her after our dad died. He tried to be a father to us both. I was twelve, but Ellie was only eight.”

  The image of Jace as he was at her trial came to mind. Forbidding, angry and somehow broken. She hadn’t understood the turmoil he had felt, but she had sensed it. Now she mourned for his grief.

  Mel set her brush down just as Miles pulled into the driveway. Grabbing her purse and coat, she hurried down the stairs so that he wouldn’t be kept waiting. He was such a sweet guy. He almost tripped over his own feet in his eagerness to take her arm so she wouldn’t slip on the ice. There was nothing kid-like in the way he handled his car, however. He expertly wove in and out of traffic. Even though the traffic in Erie could be heavy, his car was behind theirs every time she looked back. Mel was impressed in spite of herself.

  As she and Irene chatted on the drive, she admitted to herself how much she had missed this, having another woman to talk with. The fact that Irene was so willing to overlook her past was a huge blessing. Melanie felt free to talk without fear that she would somehow say something that would make her listener walk away in disgust.

  At the mall, she tried to ignore the stares and whispers when someone recognized her, no doubt from the newspaper photos from the day she was released. The first time someone pointed at her, she actually cringed. She sneaked a peek at Irene to see her reaction. Irene acted as if she hadn’t noticed a thing, but Mel saw her jaw clench. Expecting Irene to call an early halt to their adventure, she was pleasantly surprised when the other woman proceeded into yet another store, the two officers falling into step behind them. “Come on, let’s find you something.”

  Find something they did. It was a soft black dress that fell in graceful folds to Mel’s calves. It was modest and subdued. Perfect for a funeral. What she hadn’t expected was the way it made her look. Regal. She looked regal. She lifted her chin and allowed the corners of her mouth to lift. There. A perfect smile. Not happy, not cheeky. But confident enough to help her brave those at the funeral.

  “How does it look, girlfriend?” Irene called through the door. “Let me see.”

  Feeling shy, Mel opened the door. Irene clapped her hands, delight written all over her face.

  “Oh, my brother’s gonna forget his own name,” she gloated.

  “Irene, that’s not why we’re shopping,” Mel reminded her knew friend softly.

  Irene cast her an ashamed look. “Sorry. Guess that was thoughtless. But—” she slid a sly look at Mel “—I still think you’re going to make his eyes cross.”

  “You don’t believe I did it, do you?” The moment the question left her lips Mel wanted to call it back. Irene, however, was already answering.

  “I never have. Even during the trial.” She saw the question in Mel’s eyes. “Jace was too tormented. Too torn. I could tell he was second-guessing himself. And I know he was under pressure to close the case. He thought he was letting Ellie’s death distract him from the truth. But Jace doesn’t get distracted. His instincts are usually right on.”

  Melanie threw her arms around her new friend’s neck.

  “Thank you,” she choked.

  “You’re welcome,” Irene whispered back, her own voice cracking. Then she cleared her throat and pushed Mel back, a teasing smile on her pretty face. “Now I want to go try on some shoes. Why don’t you go back into the dressing room and change, then come join me.”

  “Shoes? You bet!”

  Back in the changing room, Mel quickly changed out of the elegant dress, determined not to keep Irene waiting.

  A gentle knock on the door interrupted her musing.

  “Miss?” a soft female voice, sounding very young, called to her. “Your friend asked me to have you try on this, as well.”

  Melanie peeked through the door and saw a young girl, probably about fifteen, standing there, popping her bubble gum as she waited. Despite the ring in her eyebrow and the bright pink hair, she was surprisingly innocent-looking. Mel opened the door far enough to take the plastic store bag from her.

  “Thanks.”

  She watched the girl swagger back toward the store entrance, replacing her earbuds as she went. Had she ever been that carefree? Sighing, she returned back into the dressing room. She held on to the bag with one hand while she slid the latch into place, then she opened it and reached down inside, expecting to grab on to fabric. Her mind froze when her hand closed over a thick coiled body with smooth, dry scales.

  A bloodcurdling scream escaped as she dropped the bag in terror. Two hissing black snakes emerged, staring at her with baleful eyes, flicking their forked tongues in her direction. She whispered a prayer and tried to unlatch the door with fingers that shook and fumbled. Panic threatened as her sweat-slickened fingers slipped off the latch. She grabbed it again. Finally. But when she tried to open it, the door thudded under her hands. It felt as though something heavy had been thrown against it. She shoved against the door. It wouldn’t budge!

  She whimpered as she remembered the barricaded door in her bathroom while the kitchen was set on fire. Flattening herself against the wall, she fought to control her breathing. Hysteria was building inside her. Spots danced before her eyes as she struggled to stave off a panic attack. Snakes were her greatest fear.

  “Black snakes. They’re just black snakes. Not poisonous.” She repeated the mantra to herself again and again.

  “Mel! Hold on, Mel,” Irene called out. Bumps and scrapes could be heard as whatever blocked the door was moved. At last, the dressing room door was wrenched open. Irene stood in the entrance, her face pale. She gasped and shrieked as one of the snakes writhed toward her. Yanking Mel through the opening, she quickly slammed the door closed before the serpent could escape.

  “Someone call the manager, and security! We have a situation here.”

  *

  Jace was ushered into the chief’s office at the Pittsburgh precinct. Chief Martha Garraway greeted him with a firm handshake and a welcoming although professional smile.

  “Lieutenant Tucker. Please, sit down.” She motioned toward a couple of standard-issue chairs across from her. “I hear you have questions regarding the death of Mr. Steven Scott.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Jace cleared his throat. He needed to step carefully. In no way, shape or form could he even hint that the officers under her command had not done their duty. “A case from my county seems to be linked to his death.” He drew a deep breath and said a quick mental prayer for guidance. Chief Garraway nodded for him to continue.

  “Four years ago, a young college student was sold some tainted drugs and died as a result. An anonymous tip led us to a Miss Melanie Swanson. I myself collected the evidence against her. It seemed a simple open-and-shut case. Miss Swanson herself appeared to OD, a suicide attempt complete with a note wherein she confessed to selling the drugs. The level of drugs in her system caused some memory loss of the night in question. She pled not guilty, but was convicted of manslaughter and served her time in prison.” He refused to allow himself to dwell on those four years. She had forgiven him and claimed he had saved her. He had to move on.

  “A few days ago she was released. Since that time, her life has been repeatedly threatened and her aunt has died in suspicious circumstances. Two jurors have admitted to being threatened into finding her guilty during her trial. One of those jurors has been murdered. The other said that Mr. Scott had also been targeted and that he was coming to talk with your detectives before he was kill
ed. My chief has put me in charge of locating Mel—er, Miss Swanson’s attacker.” Of all the stupid— Did he really just refer to her as Mel in front of the chief? What was he, a rookie?

  Chief Garraway arched a brow at him. “Apparently you know Miss Swanson pretty well.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Well enough to have proof that she was set up.” No way was he adding any more than that. Let her think what she wanted.

  Garraway narrowed her eyes, considering. She decided. Folding her hands in front of her on the desk, she gave him what he wanted. “Mr. Scott came here. He spoke to one of our finest detectives. When he was killed the next day, my officer immediately suspected foul play. He ran a thorough investigation and discovered that Mr. Scott’s vehicle had been tampered with. It was no accident. We are still working to apprehend the one responsible. At the moment, however, we have no suspects. My detective has gone undercover to try to locate the perp.”

  “Would it be possible for me to review the case files, Chief?”

  Chief Garraway was way ahead of him. “I thought you might want to. When your chief contacted me, I had the files brought up and copied for you. I took the precaution of removing my detective’s name from the reports. I know you will understand my wish to keep his identity private.”

  “Absolutely, Chief.”

  Chief Garraway led Jace to an empty conference room and left. He spent the next hour poring over the files. Steven Scott’s story matched Emily Keith’s. His car had been expertly sabotaged. Whoever had taken him out, the guy was a pro. He returned the file to Chief Garraway, thanking her for her time and cooperation.

  “I believe, Chief Garraway, that when you find your perp, we will find ours, too. I would suggest keeping the communication open between our departments.”

  “Agreed.” Garraway stood and extended her hand. “I look forward to working with you, Lieutenant Tucker.”

  Satisfied, Jace left. He sat in his car long enough to shoot an email to Paul, then he started his engine. I wonder what Mel did today? he thought to himself. He smiled as he imagined her impatience at being kept in the house with only his mother for company. They would probably avoid each other. He was nearing the parking lot exit when his phone chirped. He had an email. He glanced at the phone and saw it was from Paul. I’d better look at this before I go. A minute later, his satisfaction with the day’s work had dissipated. Aghast, he stared at the email on his phone. He read it over twice. He could see Irene wanting to take Mel shopping. But Paul? He shook his head in disgust.

  “I can’t believe this,” he muttered. “He really let those girls go shopping?”

  Urgent now, he tossed his phone down on the passenger seat and pulled out into traffic. It would be at least ninety minutes before he could get to the mall.

  WHAM!

  The car lurched forward as it was struck from behind. Jace just avoided slamming into the guardrail. He jerked the cruiser back just in time to see the car shift into the lane beside him and speed up. He could make out broad shoulders, but the driver’s face was hidden behind a scarf and a baseball cap pulled low over his features. Remembering being shot at before, Jace risked a glance in the rearview mirror. No one was behind him. His lips a grim line, he slammed a foot down on the brakes and held tight to the steering wheel. Unprepared, the other car shot past him. Jace sped up and flipped on his siren. He caught sight of the license plate and radioed it in.

  “That plate belongs to a vehicle reported stolen last week.”

  Of course it does.

  Jace continued to follow the other vehicle. The driver accelerated and swerved onto an exit ramp. Jace maneuvered onto the ramp, then lost the other car when a convoy of tractor trailers came between them.

  He banged his hand on the steering wheel. He had been so close to catching this guy. At least he knew that he was being followed this time, which meant that Mel should be safe for the time being. He furrowed his brow. Something gnawed at him. Grabbing a piece of spearmint gum from his pocket, he chewed as he mulled over the events.

  There was quite a difference between shooting at people and leaving threatening pictures. Even the mannequin and the rock incidents were only threats. And then there was the fire. That was more than a threat. So was the attempt to shoot at them while they were driving.

  His mind latched on to the idea that had been brewing inside for the past couple days.

  There had to be more than one attacker. Nothing else made sense. Now if he could only prove his theory.

  The dispatcher came over the radio, reporting an incident at the mall. He held his breath, knowing there was no way he could get there to make sure Mel was safe.

  “Officers on the scene. No injuries reported.”

  Jace let out the breath he was holding on a prayer of thanksgiving. Mel was in God’s hands. He had to trust. Although that did not mean he couldn’t use his siren.

  Flipping his siren back on, he moved into the right lane to pass the slowing traffic.

  Hold on, Mel. I’m coming.

  TWELVE

  Melanie sipped the Coke the store manager had brought her. The officer who had responded to the call closed his notebook as he finished his notes. Irene hovered like a mother hen, alternating flapping her hands and wringing them. Mel was touched by her concern, and bit her tongue to keep from asking Irene to please sit down.

  “The pet store on the lower level reported they sold two black snakes to a kid about an hour ago,” the officer informed her. “Since you appear to have been targeted, I would guess she was paid to do it.”

  Melanie remembered the young girl who had handed her the bag.. Before she could ask about her, Irene’s cell phone rang. The manager and the officer both frowned at the redheaded woman, making her flush.

  Irene grabbed the offending phone and took it outside to answer it.

  “Hey, Mom. There’s been a problem—” Mel heard before the door shut behind Irene. Great. One more thing Mrs. Tucker could blame her for, just when she thought she’d been making progress.

  One person looked more miserable than she felt. Miles stood off to the side, his face pale. He held his hat in his hands, wringing it mercilessly. It would probably never look the same again. He had apologized to her at least a dozen times. If he tried again, she just might start pulling out her hair. She didn’t see how he could have possibly stopped the incident. It’s not as though he could have come into the dressing room with her.

  Irene returned. “Sorry. I turned the phone off.”

  The officer frowned at her, jerking his head to motion her all the way inside. She hurried back to Melanie’s side.

  “Madam, I’m so sorry that such a thing happened in my store.” The manager stood before Mel, his wide forehead slick and sweaty. “Please, allow me to make amends. What were you purchasing this afternoon?”

  “I was buying a dress and shoes for my aunt’s funeral.” She indicated the dress and shoes sitting beside her. Irene had still been holding them when they had been escorted to the back of the store.

  His face grew another shade paler.

  “Please, the dress is on the house. Accept it with our apologies.” He made a funny little bow as he spoke.

  “Sam, do you know who this is?” a young clerk, no more than sixteen, interrupted. “I saw her on the news. She’s the chick that killed that college kid. I think she probably killed her aunt, too.”

  Melanie gasped as she took in the girl’s smirk. Irene rounded on the girl like a mother tigress.

  “How dare you! Is this the way you treat customers in this store? She was nowhere near her aunt when she passed away. What a horrible rumor to spread.” Unfortunately, Irene could not say she hadn’t killed Sylvie, Mel thought, her lips twisting. She may believe Mel was innocent, but the law still held that Mel was guilty.

  The horrified manager shushed the girl and sent her to work on inventory in the back room.

  Red-faced, he apologized again. “Take the shoes, too.”

  *

  Irene plo
pped down on the living room couch and set her feet, ankles crossed, on the coffee table. A stack of magazines fell off the other side. Mel moved to pick them up, but Irene motioned her away. She pointed a stern manicured finger at Melanie.

  “You. Sit,” she ordered. “You deserve to relax after a day like today. I nearly passed out when I saw that snake crawling around in that room with you.”

  “You nearly passed out? How do you think I felt when I reached into the bag and actually felt the snake? I hate snakes with a passion. I can’t believe I was dumb enough not to question someone handing me a bag. I should have looked inside it, not just reached in with my bare hand.” The memory of the dry, slithery coils had goose bumps breaking out on her arms. She shuddered.

  “I couldn’t believe that horrible girl. To say such a thing to a complete stranger!” Irene huffed.

  Mel smiled at her new friend. “I was shocked, but you know she only said what others were thinking.” Irene started to protest. “Stop, Irene. You know I’m right. I think Jace believes I was set up because of the events in the past few days. You believe me because of Jace. But can you honestly say that if it weren’t for your brother, you’d think I was innocent?”

  “Of course I would!” Irene protested weakly. Her eyes caught Mel’s before she flushed and looked down at her lap.

  Melanie sighed, disappointed. Which was unreasonable, she knew. If everyone thought she was guilty, how could she expect a different response from Irene?

  “But, Melanie, that doesn’t matter!” Irene exclaimed. “I do believe you! Wondering whether or not I would have in different circumstances is pointless.”

  Melanie shoved her bitterness aside. “You’re right, of course.”

  Irene gave her a relieved smile.

  The front door slammed.

  “Mel? Irene?”

  Jace. Her heart sped up.

  “In the living room,” Irene hollered.

  Brisk footsteps pounded toward them. Jace stopped just inside the room, his gaze fused with Mel’s. For a moment, they just stared at each other. Irene’s chuckle broke through to Mel, and she dropped her eyes, feeling heat spread up her neck and into her face.