Senseless
Page 25
Angie’s voice shifted to attorney mode. “Who’s killing those women?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t know.”
Angie frowned, an old sign her mind turned over all the variables. “Be careful.”
The gruff warning triggered a stab of emotion she’d not expected. “I can take care of myself. Don’t worry about me.”
“I do.” Angie stared at her, her expression as solid as stone. She handed Eva a card. “If you need anything, call me.”
Eva took the card, letting her thumb trace the gold embossed letters. “Thanks.”
Angie pulled out her cell phone and prepared to type. “Do you have a cell in case I need you?”
Eva shook her head. “You can reach me here.” She rattled off the number.
She typed in the number. “What’s your cell?”
“I don’t have one.”
Angie looked at her as if she’d just grown a third eye. “Why not? You need to have a phone. Everybody has a phone.”
“Not everybody. And I’ve always been able to get my hands on a phone when I really needed one.”
“You should have a cell.”
“People have survived for thousands of years without one.”
Angie hesitated, clearly wanting to argue but deciding against it. She put her phone away. Eva shoved her hands into her pockets.
They stared at each other, both uncertain of how to end this meeting. A handshake, hug, even a Have a Great Life didn’t suit them. What should have been natural didn’t come easy to either one of them.
Finally, Angie nodded. “Okay.”
“Right.” A hug, which should have been natural, somehow didn’t feel right.
“I’ll call you.”
“Sure.”
Angie nodded, turned and left.
Eva stood in the center of the pub, the crushing weight of abrupt solitude squeezing her chest. Angie was hurt. Damn. Eva couldn’t have messed things up better if she’d tried.
Eva’s thoughts turned to Deacon Garrison. He’d meddled where he shouldn’t have. “Asshole.”
Shoving out a breath, Eva moved into the kitchen. The smells of chili mingled with the scent of the apple pies in the oven. Bobby sat on a stool wearing an oversized apron. He peeled potatoes. King stood to his right, doing the same. Whereas the boy had a small paring knife, King wielded a large knife that had a seven-inch blade on it.
“Why isn’t he in school?” Eva said.
“Teacher workday or something,” King said.
“Look, Eva,” Bobby said. “I’ve almost got the peel off this one.”
The potato looked as if it had gone through a meat grinder. Half the peel remained on, and what he’d managed to get off lay in thick uneven chunks on the counter. But none of that really mattered. The pride shining in the kid’s eyes got to her.
She smiled and winked. “I bet you could run this place in a few weeks if King gave the okay.”
King expertly carved away the potato skin. “The boy can do just about anything. He helped me bake pies yesterday.”
“He’s a smart guy.” Eva began peeling a potato.
“So who was that I heard you talking to?” King said. No missing the keen interest in his voice.
She hesitated. “Nobody.”
“It was somebody. ”
Eva glanced at Bobby, and winked but her comment was directed to King. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I worry.” King glanced down at Bobby. “Eva is a lot like you, kid. She doesn’t like to talk about her family or her past.”
Bobby glanced up at Eva, his face a solemn mask.
Eva frowned. “That’s not true. I’d talk about my family if I had something to say.”
“That expression,” King said to the kid. “She gets that expression just like you. It’s a don’t-ask-me-no-more-questions look.”
Both Eva and Bobby suddenly became very interested in the potato they were peeling.
“Two peas in a pod,” King said.
Eva concentrated on the way her knife sliced under the potato peel. Up until this moment, her silence hadn’t hurt anyone but herself. And that had been an acceptable trade-off. Now her silence not only hurt her, but Angie, Bobby and Garrison’s investigation. As comforting and safe as the silence had been, she could no longer afford it.
She tossed her potato into a pot of water. “That woman you just heard me talking to is my sister.” She glanced from Bobby to King. “Her name is Angie Carlson and she’s an attorney in town.”
King grunted. “She looked mad.”
Eva arched a brow. “You were watching us?”
“Bobby and I peeked through the kitchen door. But we couldn’t hear anything.”
“You were spying on me?”
King showed no repentance. “We’re nosy because we care. Right, Bobby?”
Bobby nodded. “Yeah.”
Slowly, she picked up another potato and started to peel it. She could feel Bobby’s gaze on her. “I’ve been back in town six months and I never told Angie I was back. I should have told her. It’s not good to keep secrets from family.”
“How’d she find out you were here?”
“Detective Garrison put the pieces together. He told her.”
“Why would he do that?”
Because he thinks I’m key to a murder investigation. “I don’t know.”
King glanced at her as if to say you know. “So how’d it go out there?”
“Better than expected, I guess. Awkward. Real awkward.”
King walked around the counter and wrapped his big arm around Eva. “I learned one thing about growing up with a houseful of sisters. ”
Tears welled in her eyes and one rushed down her cheek. “What’s that?”
“They fight like cats and dogs, but they always forgive each other.”
God, how much she wanted to believe King. “This isn’t a fight over clothes, King. The hurt runs deep.”
He turned her to face him. “Give it time. You’ll both find a way back.”
She wanted to melt into his arms and press her face against his chest. She wanted him to hold her like her father did when she was a little girl, and chase away the demons. But her father’s love had faded when the pressures of home life were too much and he’d left. His abandonment had taught her at a young age that she had herself to rely on.
Eva swiped away a tear. “Thanks.”
“She doesn’t believe me, Bobby,” King said. “But she’ll see that I’m right. And you, boy, will see that I’m right too. It’s always better to trust someone.”
Bobby’s gaze darted between Eva and King. He didn’t speak, but the hard line that always seemed to furrow his brow had eased. “My mom died,” he said quietly.
For a moment Eva didn’t dare breathe for fear he’d shut down.
“I miss her,” he said.
“How long has she been dead?”
“A long time.”
“How did she die?”
“She got sick.”
“What was her name?” Eva said.
“It doesn’t matter.” His shoulders crumpled forward and she had the sense that the window he’d just barely cracked open had closed. “I can’t bring her back and I want to stay here.”
“We want to protect you,” Eva said softly.
Bobby looked at her, his eyes watery.
“I know you’re scared,” she persisted. “But you’ve got to tell us about your family. ”
Bobby looked like the secret inside of him clawed to get out. Just a few more minutes and she might actually get some information out of him.
Then King smoothed his hand over the boy’s head. “We’ll figure something out, kid. Don’t sweat it.”
Bobby grabbed the out King had just given him. “I don’t have to tell.”
“Not until you’re ready, pal.”
Eva glanced at King as if he’d lost his mind.
King puffed out his chest, defensive. “No sense making it a bi
g thing. ”
Eva kept her tone light for Bobby’s sake but right now she’d gladly have throttled King. “Kinda is a big thing.”
“A problem for tomorrow. ”
Eva could see what was happening. King had fallen into the role of father and he didn’t want out. And arguing with him right now would be pointless. She’d catch him later and chew his ear.
Hanging around here would drive her a little insane. “I gotta get going,” Eva said.
King arched a brow. “Where you going?”
“I’m not making headway here now so I can at least track down that rat-bastard Garrison.”
Chapter 16
Monday, April 10, 12 Noon
The rented Lexus parked in front of Angie’s office and the driver immediately reached for his cell. He typed: I’m outside. Got a minute?
They’d shared a couple of dates over the last few days. It had been fun enough. Yes.
A few minutes later Angie came outside. She wore her hair in a high ponytail but the wind caught the loose wisps around her face. Her eyes looked red and her skin pale, but she smiled at him.
He’d enjoyed her in bed last night and knew that she’d enjoyed him. Despite the reasons that drove him to her, he liked her. He kissed her lightly on the lips. “You okay? You look upset.”
She kissed him again on the lips. “I’ll live.”
“What’s wrong? It’s nothing about last night, is it?”
“No. Last night was one of the very bright moments in my life.”
He rubbed her jawline with his thumb. “Is it a case?”
She squeezed his forearm. “It’s a family thing. My sister is back in town. I’ll handle it.”
“Sounds ominous. Want to grab a cup of coffee?”
“I can’t. I’ve got more work than I can handle. But thanks. Rain check?”
“Sure, babe. No worries.” He took her hand in his. He tugged at her arm. “You know there’s a hotel only blocks from here. I bet you could slip away for an hour.”
“Very tempting, but the work …”
“Will be waiting for you when you get back. I’ll even throw in a foot rub.”
Angie laughed. “You are as tempting as the devil.”
His laugh rang genuine. “I hope so. I’d hate to think my best moves are being wasted.”
A smile tugged the edge of her lips. “I’ve only got an hour.”
“Then let’s get going.”
“You’re bad.”
“I know.”
She took his hand and they walked to the hotel. They were kissing when he unlocked the door to their room and pushed her inside.
Angie could barely keep her hands off this man. She barely knew him but already she craved the release his lovemaking promised. She just needed to forget about all her problems. About Eva. Broken families. So much guilt. If only for a brief time.
He closed the door behind them and immediately kissed her again. The kiss was passionate. Full of promise. Each shrugged their clothes off as they groped their way to the bed.
A half hour later they both lay entwined in the sheets. Angie felt boneless and for the moment content.
He drew circles on her shoulder with his fingertip. “So what’s the deal with your sister? I can feel the tension in your body.”
She shoved out a sigh, trying to push the tensionout with the stale air. “She and I have been estranged for a while. She moved back to town six months ago and never told me.” She closed her eyes. “She’s working at a place called King’s. Not a mile from my office.”
“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
She didn’t want to say any more. She sat up, pushing the twisted sheets away from her body. “I’ve got to go.”
He traced lazy circles on her back. “Do you have to?”
“Duty calls.”
He sighed, sat up and moved his feet over the side of the bed. “I hate duty.”
“Sometimes I do too.”
“I’m going to grab a quick shower,” he said. “Join me.”
“Thanks, but I’ll never get back if I get in that shower. ”
He waggled his eyebrows. “All part of my evil plan.”
She kissed him again, and as he walked naked into the bathroom she couldn’t help but admire his lean form. Sighing, she glanced to the side and caught her reflection in the mirror. Her sleek ponytail was almost nonexistent and what remained had shifted to the side. Her lipstick had been smudged away and a definite hickey marked her neck. Angie didn’t recognize herself. This was the first dangerous thing she’d done ever, and frankly it felt very, very good.
She got up, let the sheet drop and started to gather her clothes. She slipped on her panties, panty hose and bra and had started to untangle her blouse as she listened to the sound of the shower click on. As she put on her blouse she paced. Her gaze caught sight of Jim’s briefcase. She shouldn’t peek inside. It was the man’s private papers. But she’d slept with him twice and knew nothing about him. She’d never been this reckless and that bothered her.
Angie clicked open the briefcase. Inside was a file marked SORORITY HOUSE MURDER.
Sorority House Murder. That’s what the press had called her sister’s case ten years ago.
Frowning, she glanced back toward the bathroom. Jim sang in the shower as if he didn’t have a care in the world. She picked up the file and found an old picture of Eva.
Angie started to sift through the file. There were more pictures of Eva. Handwritten notes that he’d made during a conversation with a private detective. Jim was trying to find Eva. But why?
She could feel all the blood drain from her face. Her hands started to tremble.
She’d been so intent on reading the file that she didn’t hear the shower shut off or the bathroom door open.
“Find anything interesting?”
Angie started at the sound of his voice but she turned and faced him, feeling no hint of shame for having snooped. “Why do you have a file on my sister?”
He had wrapped a towel around his waist and dried his hair with another. “I’m trying to find her.”
The earth shifted under Angie’s feet. Clutching her blouse to her chest, she suddenly felt dirty and used. “Why?”
“I want to write about her.”
She glanced at the face that had filled her with such desire less than an hour ago. Now he repulsed her. “How’d you find out she was my sister?”
“Private detective. You were easy to find, but she’s fallen off the radar.”
Her chest tightened. She’d told him where Eva worked. “Who are you?”
“Connor Donovan.”
“The reporter.”
“That’s right.”
A sudden wave of nausea hit her. “You were using me. ”
“Hey, Angie, it wasn’t that cold-blooded. I enjoyed this. So did you.”
She couldn’t even summon tears. “Christ, I was such a fool.”
“Hey, darling,” he said, taking a step toward her. “I’m just doing my job.”
She clenched her fingers into tight fists. “I swear, if you come a step closer I will kill you.”
He stopped mid stride, his smile faltering. “Like your sister killed her lover? ”
“Go to hell.”
“I would, but I’ve got a story to write. Care to comment on this latest string of murders and your sister’s association to them?”
She grabbed her pants, pulled them on and with trembling hands fastened the buttons of her blouse. “Fuck you.”
“You just did, as I remember.”
She glared at him as she zipped up her pants. “Come near me again or my sister and I’ll sue you for every dime you’re worth.”
“You can’t stop me.”
She grabbed her purse. “Just watch me.”
She stumbled out into the hallway and slammed the door behind her. She tucked in her blouse and pulled the clip from her hair, running fingers through her messy hair. The elevator dinged open a
nd she dug her cell phone out of her purse. She called King’s.
An old man picked up the phone. “King’s.”
“Eva Rayburn.”
He hesitated a moment. “She ain’t here.”
“Is this King?”
“One and only.”
“This is her sister, Angie Carlson.” Angie swallowed a lump in her throat. “Tell her to call me ASAP.”
Angie closed the phone, stumbled off the elevator and hurried through the lobby. She winced when she stepped into the bright noonday sun. “What have I done?”
The hairs on the back of Eva’s neck rose, as if someone stood close by and watched her. But when she turned, she saw only police officers heading to and from the station. Reasonable she’d feel nervous here. She’d sworn years ago she’d never again step foot in a police station and yet here she stood. Nerves. Feeling watched. It made sense.
Drawing in a breath, she pushed through the front door of the Alexandria police station on Mill Street. The fire in her belly that had driven her here, cooled to smoldering embers. She’d come this far and hoped she had enough steam to confront Garrison.
Eva’s fingers tightened around her backpack’s strap as she approached the reception desk. An officer with graying hair looked up at her with no hint of welcome in his gray eyes.
“Yes, ma’am?” The “ma’am” sounded forced, as if he believed she wasn’t old enough for the title.
Not in the mood for judgments, she straightened. “I’m here to see Detective Deacon Garrison.”
The officer knitted his fingers together. “He’s in a meeting.”
“Tell him Eva Rayburn is here to see him.” Her cool voice belied the butterflies chewing at her gut.
He stared at her a long moment.
“He’ll be upset if you don’t.”
The officer sighed and picked up the phone. He punched some numbers, waited a couple of seconds and then said, “There’s an Eva Rayburn down here.”
Eva’s stomach churned with the temptation to leave. Forget this whole mess. Right. She’d spent the last decade trying to forget, and where had it landed her? Exactly where she’d started, facing the same set of demons.
The officer hung up. “He’ll be right here.”
“Great.” She glanced around the lobby, not sure if she should sit or if she should pace. She opted to stand, but not to pace. Pacing suggested desperate and she was not desperate. She was angry.