Justice for All

by Wayne, Joanna

  She opened the refrigerator door and bent over to get a better look. “Someone should buy food.” She pushed a carton of milk to the side so she could search behind it, then opened one of the crisper drawers. “Not a lot to choose from. We can have a BLT with cheese on toasted wheat bread or…” She opened another drawer. “Or we can order out.”

  “BLT sounds good to me, and I can actually fry bacon.”

  “Then we’re in business, Chief. If you’ll get the bacon started, I’ll run upstairs and change into something that’s not dripping all over my kitchen floor.”

  And something that covered more flesh, Max hoped, though that might not make a lot of difference.

  “Best skillet for bacon is in the dishwasher,” she said, “but it’s clean.”

  Max found the skillet while Callie pulled the sandwich makings out of the fridge and placed them on the counter.

  “I won’t be but a few minutes,” she said.

  “Take as long as you like. Dinner is under control.”

  Dinner was the only thing under control. As Max peeled the slices of bacon from the slab, his mind went back to the list that had included Callie’s name.

  Realistically he knew it was a jump to assume the killer had typed out that list, then scribbled Callie’s name on it in a very shaky hand. A jump, but not one any good detective wouldn’t make, or at least consider.

  The grossly misshapen letters suggested the name had been added by a person who was angry or at least on edge. But if it was the Avenger, he hadn’t done anything at the party to call attention to himself. But then he wouldn’t. He didn’t work that way. He waited until the time was right and he had all his sick little ducks in a row.

  He’d do that with Callie, too. Find the perfect time, the perfect method. And just the right opportunity. If he had any MO, it was using situations to shield himself. A mud slide. A caved roof. A crisis at City Hall. A party at Mary Hancock’s house.

  Max forked the bacon with a vengeance. The task of protecting Callie would be nonstop twenty-four hours a day for as long as it took to apprehend the Avenger. And there could be no mistakes.

  Callie stripped out of the wet bikini. Max could pretend to have no interest in her all he wanted, but she’d seen the bulge in his shorts when she’d swam up to him in the pool. His arousal confused her all the more. If he found her attractive, why did he keep such a safe physical and emotional distance between them?

  They were both divorced and had been for a long time. Both were professionals, happy and fulfilled in their chosen fields. So what was it about her that made him behave as if he were in the running for the next pope?

  And why did it bother her when she had much more important matters on her mind?

  Callie changed into a pair of tan shorts and a lime green tank top, then ran a comb through her damp hair, smoothing the tangled locks.

  She was about to close the door and return to the kitchen when her phone rang. She could ignore it since she wasn’t on call tonight, but she had this thing about a ringing phone and junk mail. One had to be answered; the other had to be opened—just in case they were important.

  “Hello.”

  “Dr. Baker?”

  Callie recognized Gail’s voice, and from the sniffing on the other end of the line, the teenager had obviously been crying. Callie seldom gave her home number to the residents at the Keller Center, preferring they go through one of the nurses or administrators at the center if they needed to talk to her. But Gail was so frightened, and she didn’t seem to open up to anyone but Callie.

  “What’s the matter, Gail?”

  “I can’t stop crying.”

  “Are you in some kind of pain?”

  “No. Well, yes, but it’s in my heart.”

  “You mean like heartache, not chest pains.”

  “Right.”

  “Did something happen to upset you?”

  “I talked to the social worker again today about adoption.”

  “No one will force that on you. It will be your choice.”

  “I know, but…” Her words were interrupted by more sniffing. “I’m a horrible person. I don’t want to be a mother. Not yet. I don’t know how…”

  She broke into sobs again. “I don’t know what to do once they’re born.”

  “Babies are a big responsibility. Only you can decide if you’re ready for it. Choosing adoption doesn’t make you a horrible person.”

  “I called my mother today.”

  So there was more to this than just talking to the social worker. “What did she say?”

  “I can come home after this, but I can’t bring the babies. She said it’s not fair to her and Daddy and my little brothers. I know she’s right, but…”

  But telling Gail all that on the phone wasn’t fair, either. She needed her mother to put her arms around her and reassure her that she loved her, not just throw out ultimatums.

  “I wish you could come see me,” Gail said.

  “I was just there yesterday.”

  “I know, but you’re the only one who understands.”

  “I can’t deal with the adoption question for you, Gail. You have to think rationally about what’s best for you and the babies, and you can’t do that if you don’t pull yourself together.”

  “I know. The nurse already told me that getting upset is bad for the babies.”

  “And bad for you. So promise me that you’ll talk to one of the counselors about this. She’ll be able to help you work through the issues better than I can. You have to trust them.”

  “But can you come on Saturday? I know you usually come every other Saturday, but I can’t wait that long.”

  “I’ll be there, Gail, unless some type of emergency comes up. You can call me if you need to talk, but I want you to try to think of positive things between now and next Saturday.”

  “What positive things?”

  “Your unborn babies are healthy. There haven’t been any complications with the pregnancy. You’re living at the Keller Center, where you’ll get the best of care.”

  “And I’m going to throw my babies away.”

  “You’re doing no such thing. If you decide on adoption, they’ll be placed with parents who will love them and take care of them. Giving them up doesn’t mean you don’t love them.”

  “I could do it if I knew they were going to someone like you. You’d love them. You’d be a good mother.”

  Gail meant the comment as a compliment, but it went down like a swallow of something bitter. “Things will work out, Gail. You’re a strong, smart girl, and I know you’ll make good decisions. Now get some rest. You have two babies who need you to keep them healthy.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Callie hung up the phone slowly, her mood altered by the phone call. Strange how a minute here and there could change a person’s life so that it was never the same again. For Gail, the night she’d gotten pregnant had been one of those moments.

  Callie only hoped that having her name added to a list of the Avenger’s victims would not become one of those moments for her.

  CALLIE AND MAX ATE their sandwiches in a cozy breakfast nook that looked out over the pool. The nook, like the rest of the house, was as snug as Callie’s bikini. Not that Max usually noticed things like houses, but then he never spent much time in any. His own apartment was small, and more or less nondescript.

  “I like the bright colors,” Max said, glancing from a painting on the wall behind Callie to a huge red glass bowl on top of a bright yellow baker’s rack.

  “It’s eclectic,” Callie said, “but fun. Most of the furnishings and collections of art were Aunt Louise’s. I inherited them along with the house, but they felt right to me, so I kept them.”

  “The two of you must have had a lot in common.”

  “Don’t I wish. She was a risk-taker, quite scandalous in her day and very unlike my father, who was her brother. He and my mother were terrific parents right up until the day Dad’s private jet went down
in the Pacific while I was in med school. But they were both extremely conservative.”

  “Do you want to be scandalous?”

  “It could be fun.”

  She met his gaze, and he could almost swear there was a challenge shining in her eyes. He wondered what she’d do if he took her up on it. Wondered if sweeping everything off the table and taking her right here and now would be scandalous enough for her.

  The idea was heady, and his libido swung into gear like his old T-bird used to do when he gunned it into overdrive. Maybe when this was over, he’d do just that. Go for scandalous. Make love like there was no tomorrow.

  And then wish the hell he hadn’t when Callie realized there was no way a guy like him could fit in her life. She’d jump right back into her career and social circuit. He’d be back at the Bar and Grill, spending night after exciting night eating his burger with Jake the bartender, then going back to his apartment and falling asleep in his chair with police reports and tormenting memories knocking about in his mind.

  Callie pushed the plate holding her half-eaten sandwich away and dabbed her mouth with her cotton napkin. “Henry Lalane called me earlier tonight.”

  That changed the mood fast enough. “How much earlier?”

  “While I was changing into my bathing suit. I didn’t mention it because I was eager to jump in the pool and get my laps in. I needed the physical exercise to help relax my nerves.”

  “What did he want?” Max asked.

  “Seems he didn’t approve of my bringing you to the Cravens’ party yesterday.”

  “Interesting. Exactly what did he have to say?”

  He listened while Callie related the details of the conversation, his cop instincts checking in. The call might not mean a thing, but coupled with Henry’s appearance at Mary’s the day of her drowning, it did raise a few suspicions. Not that Henry wasn’t already high on Max’s suspect list.

  Max smiled to himself when Callie told him how she finished the conversation. He’d like to have seen Henry’s face at that remark.

  But if Henry knew they were living together, so would at least half of Courage Bay by tomorrow, including everybody on the police force. There would be lots of smiles and knowing looks from the guys on the force, and cracks behind his back about the chief’s finally getting laid. A few of his colleagues would be smart enough to figure out what was really going on.

  “What about Jerry Hawkins?” Callie asked.

  “What about him?”

  “Are you going to question him?”

  “I thought I might pay a visit to his ex-partner’s wife in Sacramento first. I’d like to talk to her before I question Jerry.”

  “When are you going?”

  “Tuesday, I think, unless something else comes up. I can get a flight out in the morning and be back by the time you finish up at the hospital.”

  Callie fingered her napkin, then rested her elbows on the table and leaned in closer. “I want to go with you.”

  The sandwich had gone down easy, but now it balled in Max’s stomach as if he’d swallowed it whole. “No way.”

  Her eyebrows arched. “Why not?”

  “We’ve been over this. You’re not a detective. You are not part of the investigative team.”

  “Because you thought getting involved would put me in danger. Well, guess what, Max. I’m there.”

  “We don’t know that. This is all precautionary, just in case the list was the work of the Avenger.”

  “Precautionary or not, I’m already under official protection twenty-four hours a day. Besides, you don’t have to tell his partner’s wife I’m a doctor.”

  “I can’t lie and say you’re a detective.”

  “Then don’t say anything. Just introduce me by name. She’ll assume I’m a detective. Besides, you can protect me yourself that day and release my cop bodyguard for more important tasks.”

  Max couldn’t think of any more important task, but the idea of having Callie with him was appealing, especially now that he realized that even the latest threat hadn’t deterred her from sticking her beautiful nose right into the middle of the investigation.

  He almost said yes, then stopped himself. If this was anyone but Callie Baker, he wouldn’t be considering it. “I can’t let you do this, Callie.”

  She started clearing the table, stacking their plates with such force it was a wonder she didn’t break them. “Fine, I’ll go by myself.”

  “I’m definitely not approving that.”

  “I don’t need your approval. Like you said, I’m not one of your detectives. I don’t work for you, and you can’t order me around.”

  He stood and followed her to the kitchen, watching as she slid the plates beneath a spray of water from the faucet then loaded them into the dishwasher. She was one hardheaded woman. She could go to Sacramento and probably would, whether he approved it or not.

  Callie was obviously starting to think like everyone else in town: Max had had eight months to find the Avenger, and he hadn’t accomplished a damn thing.

  “I know I haven’t gotten far in catching this guy, Callie, but it’s not for lack of trying.”

  She let the silverware she was holding slide from her fingers and clatter into the sink. “I never thought it was,” she said, turning to face him. “This isn’t about you, Max. Mikki’s my friend, yet I’m standing by and doing nothing while she falls for a guy who could be a killer.”

  “You’re doing it to protect her. If she suspects Hawkins and starts questioning him and it turns out he is guilty, there’s no telling how he’ll react.”

  “That doesn’t make this any easier for me.”

  “I’m assigning a detective to dig up everything about Hawkins tomorrow. And I’m going to Sacramento myself on Tuesday. If he’s guilty of anything, we’ll find out and arrest him. Besides, don’t you have appointments scheduled for Tuesday?”

  “I have hospital business in the morning and patient appointments in the afternoon, but I can rearrange those and get another doctor to take care of rounds for me. Mikki’s my friend, Max. She’d do this for me.”

  She kept staring at him with those beautiful eyes and he couldn’t for the life of him find a way to tell her that being a friend didn’t matter, that her feelings didn’t matter. But there would be one advantage to this. If Callie was with him, he knew he could keep her safe.

  He took a deep breath, wondering how in the world one woman could turn him inside out with a look. “Okay, Callie. You can go, but you can’t tell anyone about this, and you have to let me handle the talking once we get to Sacramento.”

  “Of course.” She dried her hands on the dish towel, then reached over, slipped her hands in his and squeezed. “Thanks, Max.”

  The heat of her touch shot through him, and he had trouble swallowing until she let go and went back to the dishes. Max walked to the breakfast nook, gathered the place mats and two tea glasses they’d left behind.

  The scandalous thoughts he’d entertained earlier returned, burning hot inside him as he stood over the table and pictured Callie on top of it, and him…

  Pickering nudged his nose against Max’s leg and Max let the image fade. “You’re right, Pickering,’ he said, patting the retriever on the head. “I am a complete fool.”

  CALLIE RAN ALONG THE SAND, close enough to the surf that each wave washed over her feet and splashed up her legs. The sun was high in the sky, yet she was the only one on the lonely stretch of beach. Just her, Pickering and the seagulls that squawked overhead.

  Then, as if from nowhere, she heard footsteps behind her. Someone was running even faster than she was and gaining on her. She turned and saw the runner just as thunder crashed and lightning streaked across a sky that had suddenly grown dark and full of black, tumultuous clouds.

  “Take the babies, Callie. You have to take the babies.”

  It was Gail, pregnant, her stomach bulging beneath her T-shirt, but she had a baby in each arm. The infants were smiling and holding their chubb
y little arms out to Callie.

  “You have to take them. If you don’t, I have to throw them into the surf.”

  Callie ran all the harder, only now it seemed as if she’d been running for days. Her legs ached and stabs of pain shot through her side. The thunder cracked again, and the rain started falling, feeling like needle pricks as the wind pushed it into her face.

  She turned around to check on the babies, but now it was a man behind her, closing in fast. His bare feet flew along the sand, and he was waving something at her. She blinked and tried to see through the sheets of rain.

  Oh, no! He was waving a gun. The killer. The Avenger. But he had no face!

  Callie fell to her knees, unable to run any further. He was going to kill her.

  The barrel of the pistol was against her temple now. She heard the click of the hammer and the man’s husky breathing.

  She tried to scream, but the water rushed into her lungs, choking her. In a frenzy she beat her fists against the sand. It was all over. There was no way to escape.

  And then Callie woke. She was sitting straight up in bed, her arms and legs tangled in the sheet and light blanket. It was a nightmare. Gail. The babies. The faceless killer. All a horrifying, bizarre nightmare.

  But it had seemed so real. Even now her heart was pounding in her chest. She sucked in a deep breath and listened to see if the rain and thunder had been real. But the night was quiet, except for a low, rhythmic noise from down the hallway.

  Max Zirinsky. She lay in the darkness, listening to the almost hypnotic sound of his snoring, and thought she’d never heard anything so beautiful.

  It was terrific to know that a man like Max was on her side. Still shivering from the fear that had gripped her only moments ago, she tried to imagine what it would be like to crawl into bed beside him and have him hold her in those strong arms.

  With any luck, she’d find out one day. But tonight, she’d settle for just knowing he was there.

  MAX SPENT THE GREATER PART of Monday morning at the catering service for Mary Hancock’s party. He’d talked to every single person who’d worked at that party, and no one had seen anything suspicious. But then the staff had been extremely busy, and most said there were so many people around that they’d probably never have noticed someone removing and then replacing a few canapés.