“I hope my cat wasn’t any trouble,” she said in an obvious diversion.
“No, he slept with me. He’s a pillow thief, but other than that we got along.”
She smiled again. She glanced at her potential customer and then she refocused on Mark. He remembered something he needed to tell her. “I hope you don’t mind, but . . . I went ahead and arranged for someone to clean up your place and fix the window. They came in right before the officers left. And they were just going to lock the door when they finished.”
Her face grew pale. “I didn’t even think about cleaning. . . I guess I just thought they would . . . I should have known that they wouldn’t. Thank you. Just let me know how much it is.”
“That’s not an issue.”
“It’s not as long as I get the bill.” Her gaze shifted to a woman staring into the coolers containing the Christmas bouquets.
He shifted away from the counter. “I’ll see you tonight. What time do you get home?” He’d be there to make sure she didn’t have to go in alone.
“Around seven,” she said.
He rested his palm on top of her hand and brushed his thumb across her wrist. “See you then.”
• • •
Mark walked back into his office two hours later. He’d also gone to talk to a retired cop who’d worked the Logan cold case he and Jake were just assigned to look at. Thankfully, murder wasn’t an everyday occurrence in their precinct, and the further from Houston you got, the fewer bodies dropped. But anytime there wasn’t a new murder, their boss threw cold cases on them. Not that Mark minded. He’d rather have a case than sit around waiting for someone to get killed. And he kind of liked solving cases that others before him had failed at. So far, he and Jake had solved three cold cases this year.
While Mark had visited with the retired detective, Henry Owens, Jake was supposed to be chasing down the old witnesses on the telephone. Mark carried in a bag from the fancy vegetarian sandwich shop down the street from the precinct. It wasn’t until he almost turned into the precinct’s parking lot that he realized he hadn’t eaten anything all day.
“How’d it go?” Jake asked, popping his head into Mark’s office.
“I took notes, but most everything he told me was in the files.”
“Not the case, the other thing.”
“What other thing?” He opened the bag of food he’d bought on the way back to the precinct and pulled out one of the grilled mushroom and provolone sandwiches. “Did you eat? I got an extra to make up for not bringing your breakfast. It’s even vegetarian, so your wife would approve.” Unlike Jake, Macy was a vegetarian.
Jake smirked. “I ate.”
“Bet it wasn’t vegetarian.”
“I had them make the double burger a single, I figure that counts for something.”
“I’ll bet it still had bacon on it,” Mark teased.
“Just one slice.” Jake frowned. “But stop talking about my eating habits just to change the subject. I know you went to see your hot neighbor. It’s written all over your face.”
“Bullshit.” Mark focused on pulling the paper off the sandwich. But he realized he was smiling. He looked back up at Jake and thought what the hell. “Fine. I went to see her. We’re having dinner tonight.”
“You and your neighbor?” A feminine voiced piped up from the door.
Macy moved in, dressed in a gray business suit that showed off her curves.
“Look at you. All lawyerly and everything. And showing some leg, too. Nice,” Mark said.
“Yeah, the pizza uniform was better, wasn’t it?” She grinned.
“You look good in whatever you wear,” Mark said.
“Quit hitting on my wife,” Jake said, brushing a kiss to her cheek. “How did the interview go?”
Macy wrapped an arm around Jake’s waist. “Great. I may have the job.” She looked back at Mark. “That smells good. Is that from the vegetarian sandwich shop?”
“Yup. I got one for Jake here, but he turned his nose up.” Mark reached into the bag and held it out.
“I’m starved! I was too nervous to eat before the interview.” She grabbed the sandwich and looked back at her husband. “They said they would call me in two weeks. And their office is only eight miles from our house.”
“Any firm would be crazy not to hire you.” Mark took a bite of his lunch.
Macy unwrapped her sandwich. “When am I going to get to meet this mysterious neighbor? Jake said she has some spunk, so I’m thinking I might like her.”
Mark wasn’t surprised Macy knew this. He’d accepted a while back that anything he told Jake would get to Macy. He even kind of respected it. They had the kind of marriage he’d thought marriage should be. Not like what his parents had.
“We’re just getting to know each other.” He grinned. “Besides, I’m trying to convince her I’m normal. Why ruin it so soon by introducing her to you guys?”
“I don’t know,” Macy said and grinned. “I heard she already met your mom. So I don’t think we could hurt your reputation any more.” Unfortunately, Macy and Jake had the pleasure of meeting his mom when she’d stopped by unannounced when they were over watching a football game. His mom had thought Macy was his date, and the fact that she’d still been in her pizza uniform had brought out the worst in her mom.
Right then he remembered his mom telling him she’d apologized to Savanna. Had his mom turned over a new leaf? Was that possible?
“Touché,” Mark said. Leave it to Macy to call it like she saw it. He realized again that in some ways, Savanna was a little like Macy. Frank, witty, and pretty. Jake was a lucky bastard. For one second, Mark wondered if he could get so lucky. “But let’s not talk about my mother.” He popped a fry into his mouth.
“Fine.” Macy pulled the paper from the sandwich. “But, I should warn you, if this neighbor thing doesn’t work out, Nana’s been asking about you.”
Mark nearly choked on his french fry. “Hey, your grandma’s cute, but I don’t think we’re compatible,” he said and chuckled, remembering the old lady trying to get him to join her yoga class at Jake and Macy’s last barbeque.
Macy laughed. “Sorry, you’re not her type either. She wants to fix you up with her boyfriend’s granddaughter. She said you had a lonely aura that she felt compelled to heal.”
“So now she’s doing yoga and healing auras. Does she read palms, too?” Mark asked.
“I think she took a class on that once.” Macy grinned.
“Don’t laugh,” Jake said. “Ninety percent of what that woman says is right on the mark. Plus, she cooks me pot roast on Sundays.”
Macy rolled her eyes. “If the devil served you pot roast, you’d love him, too.”
“Only if it had the little potatoes and carrots in it.” Grinning, Jake came over and snagged a few fries from Mark’s bag. Then he grabbed the sandwich from Macy and took a bite. “This ain’t bad. It’s not pot roast, but it’s better than a tofu burger.”
“So you really like this girl?” Macy asked Mark.
So much it scares me. “I don’t know, it’s new.”
“He’s lying like a big dog,” Jake told Macy. “When he came in a few minutes ago, he had a shit-eating grin, AKA I’m-gonna-get-lucky grin, on his face. He hasn’t grinned like that since I’ve known him.” He took another bite of the sandwich.
Mark was about to argue the point when he remembered something. “Hey, you know that cup you gave me last week, the one where Santa loses his pants when it gets hot?”
“Yeah,” she said and popped another fry into her mouth.
“Where did you get it?”
Right then, Mark’s desk phone rang, as well as his cell. Jake’s phone went off, too.
“I guess that means lunch is over.” Macy frowned. “And I’ll bet you’ll be late for dinner, too.”
When Mark looked at the number on his phone, he knew Macy was right. They were being called to a scene. He looked at the clock. It was almost two. New cases usually t
ook four to six hours. Hell, he hoped this was a slam-dunk. He had to be back at his place by seven, come hell or high water.
Jake answered the call. “Yes. What’s the address?” He grabbed a pen from Mark’s desk and snatched the notepad. “We’ll be right there.”
Mark stood up. Jake kissed Macy. “See ya later.”
As they walked out, Jake looked back at Mark. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, Tom called me before you got here. Guess who didn’t pass the lie detector test today?”
“Seriously? Don Juan didn’t pass?”
“Well, Tom said he didn’t completely flunk it, but it was inconclusive. They’re getting a court order to look at his bank records to see if he pulled out any substantial amounts of cash that could have been used to hire a hit.”
Mark sighed. “I’d rather it be him than one of her friends. Then again . . . Shit. Did they tell Savanna?”
Jake pushed open the door, leaving the precinct.. “I don’t know.”
“Someone needs to tell her. If he’s crazy enough to hire someone to kill her ex, he’s crazy enough to hurt her.”
Mark pulled out his phone and called her. It went to voicemail. “Hey . . . it’s Mark. The cops are still looking at Juan Ardito as a suspect. So . . . avoid him. Got it?”
• • •
It was after five and both hell and high water had come. This was no slam-dunk case. They had a murder scene without a victim. Correction, they had a scene, not officially ruled a murder scene, but with the amount of blood, chances were somebody was dead, or in the hospital getting transfusions.
After studying the blood, Mark actually called to see if the local hospitals had treated any bad wounds. No such luck.
And since the home’s resident, Nick Curley, was missing, they assumed the bleeder could be him.
A young girlfriend of the late twenty-year-old man, had come by to check on him when he hadn’t showed up for work that day. They both worked at a local grocery—her as a cashier and him as an assistant manager. When she found the blood on the living room floor, she’d called the cops. Both Jake and Mark had spoken with her and neither liked her for the possible crime.
They also found a gun in Mr. Curley’s bedroom, but it didn’t appear to have been used recently. They looked for evidence of a shooting and found none.
“What do you think? Knife?” Jake asked.
“Possibly. Fatal wound, too. It looks to be about as much blood as there was on Savanna’s kitchen floor.” Mark continued to stare. “And the blood pattern sort of looks similar.”
Jake looked up. “You aren’t thinking they’re connected, are you?”
“No,” Mark said surmising the odds. “That’s not likely.” He returned to the kitchen and asked the girlfriend a few more questions. “Nick have any enemies?”
“No. Well, his ex and him were always fighting. They had a huge argument over the phone a couple of days ago.” Tears appeared in her eyes. Mark got the ex’s name. He and Jake would be paying her a visit before they called it a day. Which would mean he’d miss being there when Savanna got home. Damn.
“Was Nick into anything illegal? Gambling or drugs?” Mark asked her.
“No,” she insisted.
Mark pointed out that he’d found a small bag of marijuana in the bedroom.
“Fine, he smoked a little weed, but that’s all.”
All the neighbors who’d been home during the day swore they hadn’t seen or heard anything out of the ordinary. Mark and Jake waited until most of the crime scene photos had been taken, then they left to find the ex.
No one was home at Mrs. Curley’s house. The ex’s place, a small, older house in Piperville, looked like a rental.
“Hmm,” Jake said. “The hubby’s living a better lifestyle than the wife. It could cause some hard feelings.”
Mark and Jake separated and knocked on doors asking neighbors about Mrs. Curley. They got the usual—she was a nice, quiet woman with twin boys. Not that this lessened the suspicion. More times than not, the nice, quiet people ended up being murderers. And more times than not, it ended up being the ex.
Then again, not always. It wasn’t in Savanna’s case.
Mark met Jake back in the front yard. “You get anything?”
Jake closed his notepad. “Lady across the street said that Mrs. Curley is out of town for a few days visiting her mom. I asked if she ever mentioned her ex and the neighbor said Mrs. Curley was upset when she left and mentioned she’d had an argument with him.”
“But was she mad enough to kill him?” Mark said. “And what would she’ve done with the body?”
“Don’t know, but she left yesterday, the blood at her ex’s house was dry, so the timeframe could still fit. However, the neighbor is dog-sitting for the ex-wife. She says Curley called and checked in on the dog. Sounds as if she’s actually coming back. I got her cell phone number. We need to have a chat with Mrs. Curley.”
Yeah, they needed to do that. Mark checked the time, it was now six forty-five. He’d expected Savanna to call him about Juan, but then again, she was working. He needed to call her to let her know he’d be late. The thought of her having to walk into her place alone had his gut clenching.
• • •
Savanna turned off the lights in the shop. She let her gaze wander. The sense of pride she felt at owning her business, and being successful at it, was still there, but she had to dig for it under the other emotional baggage taking residence in her heart.
Today her emotions were so up and down and back and forth. The thought of Clint being dead had her feeling guilty for no longer loving him. The thought of seeing Mark had her feeling . . . anticipation, and yet the thought of trusting someone like she’d trusted Clint scared her. Then when she heard Christmas music it had her thinking she needed to go shopping for her friends, but it also reminded her of what she wouldn’t be buying this year. A crazy Christmas mug for her mom.
She’d just gotten into her car when her phone rang. She checked the number. Mark. And just like that, the anticipation hit. She remembered the hot kiss and the magical feeling that had chased away the doom and gloom when he came into her shop.
“Hello?”
“Hi.” His voice rang deep and sexy. “Where are you?”
“Heading home. Am I late?”
“No. I’ve gotten caught up in a case and it’ll be an hour before I get home. You want to just hang out at work for a while longer?”
“Why?” she asked, confused.
“I . . .” He paused. “I assumed it would be easier to go into the house if I was with you. I’d hoped to be there.”
He was right. Walking into her house alone was going to be hard. The fact that he cared, was sweet, but . . . “Thanks, but I’ve got to face it sooner or later.”
“Later is sometimes not a bad idea.”
“I’ll be okay.” It was probably a lie, but as much as she anticipated getting to know him, she didn’t need to start emotionally depending on him. Slow and easy. And yet there was nothing slow about the kiss he’d given her last night. And nothing easy about the decision she had to make tonight. Whether to let him kiss her like that again. Because if he did, it wouldn’t stop at a kiss.
Could she do that and not be emotionally dependent? She knew Bethany, Jennifer, even Mandy, had come to the place that they didn’t view sex as serious. Unfortunately, Savanna hadn’t arrived there yet. Or she didn’t think she had. Tonight might be the test.
“Did you get the message I left earlier?” he asked.
“You didn’t leave one,” she said.
“I did. I called you around two this afternoon.”
“I’m sorry, I must have missed it. It’s been a busy day.”
“No problem, but I just wanted you to know that they are still looking at Juan Ardito. So stay clear of him.”
“I don’t think . . .”
“I know you don’t think he did this. But just humor me.”
She hesitated. “I will.”
; “I’ll call you as soon as I get home. I’ll take a shower and I’ll be over. You aren’t starving, are you?”
“No.”
“Good,” he said. “I can’t wait to see you.”
He hung up. She realized she needed to shower, too. She reached down and ran two fingers under the hem of her jeans. She also needed to shave her legs. And she’d do that, just as soon as she got home and stopped freaking out about her ex-husband being killed in her kitchen. Holy hell, she thought. Was she ready to be tested?
• • •
Savanna’s hands shook when she pushed open the door. The air smelled like astringent, like a hospital. It reminded her of her last week with her mom. It reminded her she was alone. Even Boots wasn’t here.
She closed her eyes and fought the image from forming. Too late. She saw it in her head. Clint dead. Clint lying in a puddle of his own blood.
To prove the image only existed in her mind, she forced herself to move into the kitchen. Heart pounding, she could swear he was there, that’s how strong the mental image flashed. Blinking until it faded, she stared at the white tile.
Inhaling a shaky breath, she took off for her bedroom. The bedspread with Boot’s bloody tracks was gone. She dropped on her bed, missing her cat, missing her mom, missing feeling safe in her own home. She took several minutes to just sit there before heading to her bathroom. One question echoed in her mind. Who had done this? Who had killed Clint?
The hot water and steam felt good. So good, that twenty minutes later, she hadn’t left. When the water lost its heat, she decided to get out. She almost forgot to shave her legs, but stepped back under the luke-warm spray.
Job, done, she got out, combed her hair, and found her best underwear, which weren’t all that sexy. She hadn’t done sexy in over a year. She donned a pair of soft-fitting jeans and a light blue, long sleeved T-shirt. After drying her hair, she put on mascara and lip gloss.
The Cop Who Stole Christmas (Tall, Hot & Texan) Page 11