by Jen Talty
“Good idea,” Jillian said.
“What evidence do we know about?” Reese asked.
“The blood on the boat matches Bill’s blood type.” Jillian slid a few pieces of paper across the table. “But we won’t know until we get the DNA results back. That will be a few more days.”
“If Bill was wounded,” Reese said, “and was he wounded because he killed her and she fought back. Or because he was also a victim.”
Jillian pushed a few more papers across the table. “They took items from Bill’s house, but we don’t know what, and we don’t know why they think a DNA swab is important right now, so we have to assume they have something they think belongs to Doug.”
“If they have something, why aren’t they trying to shake him up by saying they have something of Doug’s that proves he did it?” Stacey asked. “That’s what I would do, if I really thought he was guilty.”
“I don’t think I like cops very much anymore,” Doug said.
Stacey gave Doug a little kick under the table. “What else do we know?”
Jillian took her cheaters off then rested them on the table. “Gregory is calling into question the search and rescue. He’s politely asked for all the paperwork, which he will get. Department courtesy, and all that.”
“Why is he questioning it?” Doug asked.
“Possible evidence tampering.” Stacey placed her hand on Doug’s thigh then squeezed, hoping to calm him down, but it didn’t.
“I wish I had let Jim hit Gregory.” Doug pushed the chair back, nearly knocking it over as he stood.
“Wouldn’t have helped,” Stacey said. “We needed to focus on what we know and why Gregory has such a hard-on for you.”
“Stacey,” her father said sternly.
“It’s just an expression, Dad.”
“We also know Gregory has a hard time with female officers. I think we need to explore that more.” Jillian was head-down, writing on her legal pad.
“Jared is already on that,” Reese said. “He’s got a few friends over there. I think we should let him run with that.”
“Agreed,” Jillian said. “Doug, have you ever had any run-ins with the law?”
Doug leaned against the back wall with his arms folded. “When I was fourteen, I ran away from a foster group home in Troy, New York,” he said. “I got picked up a couple of times here and there for loitering. Once, I was sent back to the group home. But other than that… Nothing.”
“What about personal things? Jillian asked. “Did you steal Mary away from someone? Did you take someone’s job? An unsatisfied customer? Sexting? Please, be honest here.”
“We’ve outbid a few other construction companies before,” Doug said. “but no enemies in business. Anything a customer has been unhappy with, we’ve always gone back and fixed.”
“Did you have an affair? Physical or otherwise.”
“No,” Doug said.
“What about the rumors about you and Stacey? Any truth to them?” Jillian asked.
Stacey glared at Reese, who shrugged. “I didn’t say anything about that.”
“I did,” Jim said. “And as I told you, it was just gossip. Happened on and off over the years. But now—”
“Years?” Stacey glanced to her father, then back to Reese. “You said recently.”
“I’d only heard it recently,” Reese said.
“Hold up,” Jillian said. “When was the first rumor anyone heard and where did it originate?”
“Summer barbeque about three or four years,” Jim said. “But it wasn’t a nasty rumor or anything. Someone asked me if they were an item. I said no. Every once in a while, someone would ask.”
Stacey closed her eyes. That stupid bikini, that she only wore once, and she certainly did flaunt herself in front of Doug.
“Why would they ask? What did they do that make people think they were an item?”
“Why is this important?” Doug asked, finally sitting back down at the table.
“Motive,” Reese said. “Why Stacey would help Doug.”
“Being his friend. Him being my father’s business partner. That’s motive enough. Gregory just wants to throw me under the bus.”
“You don’t know that,” Reese said.
Stacey huffed out a puff of air. This was a conversation she’d had more than once, and she lost every time.
“Okay,” Jillian said. “Nothing between you two until when?”
“The day before Mary’s body was found,” Doug said. “But it’s not like we have even had a chance to know what any of this means. And it shouldn’t matter.”
Stacey took a large gulp of her wine. The glass wasn’t empty, but she poured another full glass. It was bad enough knowing other people discussed her love life as if it were a bad reality show, but to sit at her own kitchen table and have her family and ex-partner discuss it?
“But it does,” Reese said, “especially since this dipshit detective is pushing this button.”
“I think I’ve got enough information about your relationship,” Jillian said. “What about Mary? Did she have any enemies?”
“A lot of people up here didn’t like her much,” Stacey said, “but I’ve been told she’s well respected at her firm.”
Jillian put down her pencil and looked at Stacey in the eye. “And how do you know that?”
Stacey couldn’t stand it; she turned her chair then straddled it, a habit she had when she was working at the station on a tough case, and one her father had never broken her of. Jim opened his mouth to say something, but she was faster. “I pulled in favors.”
Jillian placed both her hands on her legal pad. “Go on.”
“I have a friend from high school who works in Mary’s office. She sent me over what she could that wasn’t breaking any confidentiality laws. All public record kind of stuff. But it might give us a better look into Mary and Bill’s world.” Stacey opened her backpack then pulled out a binder. “There is also a list of current employees who had direct contact with Mary and Bill in there.”
“What’s your friend’s name?” Jillian took up her pencil again, ready to jot it down.
“Taylor Davis. She’s a paralegal. Worked under Mary.” Stacey wondered how far she should take this. She decided she shouldn’t hold anything back. “She told me that she saw Bill and Mary numerous times, having heated discussions.”
“Lovers’ spat kind of stuff, or office related?” Jillian asked.
“She didn’t know.” Stacey knew it wasn’t much, but it was a start. “She couldn’t really talk, so I’m going to try to connect with her another time.”
“What do we know about Bill?” Jillian asked.
“I have some history on him,” Reese said. “Not much, but he does have a few enemies. One was a former client who was arrested for embezzlement, and who is now out of jail. Luke is going to pay him a visit.”
“Keep me posted.” Jillian gathered up her paperwork. “It’s best we’re prepared for the worst. May I keep this?” She held up Stacey’s binder.
“I have a second copy.”
“Thanks.” Jillian tucked everything in her briefcase. She took a sip of her wine. “One more thing. If they show up with a warrant for anything, you have the right to have your lawyer check the legality of that warrant, so if they come to search the house, they don’t get in until I check into that warrant.”
Reese’s phone beeped. “Sorry, that’s the wife. She and Nana are pulling in right now.”
“Why don’t you invite them in?” Jim asked. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen them.”
“I already tried,” Stacey said. “Called her earlier, but they had a long drive, and I guess Patty feels like a walking whale right now.”
“Can barely tell she’s pregnant,” Reese said. “I better bug off.”
Jillian rose and handed Reese her card. “Let’s keep in touch.”
“Will do.”
Stacey walked Reese to the door, waving to Patty and Nana, then noticed o
ut of the corner of her eye that her father had poured Jillian another glass of wine, and was about to give her the grand tour. Doug sat at the table, pushing his half-finished beer aside. “You okay?” Stacey asked.
“Not really.”
“Want to talk about it?” Stacey asked.
His hand trembled as he laced his fingers through hers. “Not here.”
“Where?”
“Sunroom.”
* * *
The sunroom was the only addition that had been made to Jim’s house, and it was the very first thing Doug had ever designed. He’d just taken his first course at community college at the ripe old age of seventeen. Jim had told him he could pay him back the college tuition by building a sunroom off the north end of the house. So, Doug went to school nights, and worked days for nearly three years as he got his two-year degree, before going to the university.
Doug often sat in the sunroom, reading late at night, or just thinking. It wasn’t perfect, but he was proud of it. It had a fourteen-foot flat celling, which was a deck off the master bedroom. The windows faced north and east, both with water views. Two heavy French doors opened into the hallway. The west side was closed off, and Jim had hung every degree and award Doug had ever received, along with some awards they had gotten together as a company. It had become the Sutten & Tanner Wall of Fame.
Doug pulled open the big wooden doors and let Stacey walk in front of him. It was warm. He left the doors open so the air-conditioning and fan would cool the room.
Stacey sat on the oversized chase lounge chair in the far corner, overlooking the lake. Thankfully, it was made for two, because he wasn’t about to sit on the smaller leather chair on the other side of the room. He snuggled in next to her, looping one arm around her, then pulling her against his shoulder and chest.
“I’ve never seen Jim so angry before,” he said. “He was going to rip Gregory’s head off earlier today. And now, I feel so angry, I know I could deck Gregory, and I wouldn’t even need any provocation.”
“I can feel how angry you are,” Stacey said. “You need to let some of it go. Not worth it.”
“I’ve tried,” he admitted, “but they are turning us into something ugly.” His muscles contracted and he balled his hand into a tight fist.
“Can’t let it get to us.”
“Easier said than done.” His feelings for her were so new; he’d barely had a chance to understand them. To feel them. To share them with her. It should have been private, but people liked to gossip. Newscasters liked to sensationalize things, and if they decided to run with this crazy love triangle, someone would turn him and Stacey into a freak sideshow. “Things were heading in the right direction. I was feeling really good about things. Then Mary gets murdered, and my life gets turned upside down again.”
“We’re going to get past this,” she said.
“I wish I believed that. It’s one sick, cruel joke, and it’s not just me it’s affecting, and I hate that even more. What this is doing to you. Pisses me off that you were forced into a vacation.” Holding her in his arms helped calm the physical ache to haul off and hurt someone, but it didn’t take away the anger.
“I’m fine with the week off,” she said. “I get that you’re angry. We’re all angry, but we need to focus that energy on finding a way to get this detective off our asses and out there looking for the truth.”
“What do you think about what Jillian said this evening?” He struggled to put all the pieces together.
“I think she’s got a good strategic plan, but you have to remember she’s laying the foundation for your defense. She’s going to get tough on us if Gregory manages to collect enough evidence to issue a warrant.”
“I don’t like the sound of that. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I don’t think it’s going to come that far. Evidence does speak for itself, and right now, they don’t have anything. We’re going to have to trust the system.”
“You are the system, and you don’t seem to be trusting it.” Doug shifted her body toward the lake, and he rolled in behind her, wrapping his arms around her. Night had fallen, but the moon was bright and the sky filled with stars. He scanned the sky searching for a shooting star. Being in this room, with her, felt like home, yet he couldn’t shake the dark cloud threatening to destroy them before they ever got off the ground.
“I trust it, but I’m tainted, because if I were on the other end, I’d be questioning the husband. We’re taught not to draw conclusions, but statistically, the husband or lover is the first place, and since Bill is still missing, they are going to keep coming back to you until they can completely rule you out.”
“I understand, but I don’t like it,” he whispered. He buried his face in the hollow of her neck, torn between past and present. The women here with him now made him feel like the man he knew he could be, and should be. “I feel guilty, being here with you.” He inhaled, catching the sweet smell of strawberries. He caressed Stacey’s arm, focusing only on her, pushing everything else out of his mind. It would still be there in the morning. Right now, he wanted a little time alone with the one person who gave him hope.
“Why?”
He lifted his head, stunned by the warmth and compassion coming from the woman staring down at him. “Because as bad as I feel about what happened to Mary, and with everything else going on, I feel happy here with you. I want things with you right now. But if I’m arrested and things—”
“I prefer to live in the moment.” She ran her hand over his thigh. “This moment.”
She was right. No point in dwelling on things he didn’t control. “I had a nice chat with your dad today about things.”
“About you and me? I’m really sick of people talking about us.”
“It wasn’t like that. Besides, he said something interesting.”
“Yeah, what’s that?” she asked.
“He says he used to watch us when we’d sit outside and have one of our long talks. He said he saw something between us then. I don’t know if it was the age thing, or me being his partner, or what, but it frightened him at the time.” He pressed his finger against her mouth and shushed her. “It’s what he saw.”
He took her hand in his, then kissed her palm. Her hands were slightly callused, her nails cut short. No matter how much of a tomboy she was growing up, no matter the profession she took on now, she was all woman, and he could see himself like this, with her, for a very long time.
“We solved the world’s problems with those long talks,” she said.
“As long as I’ve known you, you’ve been my best friend. I can’t imagine what life would be like without you in it. I’m worried about all this crap, and what it could do to something that has barely begun.”
“Maybe it’s time to rev things up.”
“That’s a dangerous thing to say to a man with his lips this close to your breasts.”
“Wouldn’t go there, if I were you.”
He tilted his head back, surprised.
“Door’s open,” she said, glancing between him and the other side of the room.
“Easily fixed.” He leapt to his feet, and as quietly as he could, he closed the doors and locked them. On the other side of those doors was the negative reality he desperately wanted to escape. Inside this room was everything he wanted his future to be. “There. That solves that problem, and”—he snuggled back beside her, pulling a blanket over them—“I think Jim went to bed, so I’m not worried.”
“You’re so worried, I can feel you trembling.”
“That’s not me,” he said.
“Oh.”
The only light in the room came from the moon and the stars, but the glow framed her face. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, pressing his lips against hers, teasing, but she wouldn’t let him keep the pace slow as she rolled over on top of him, her hair flowing on both sides of his face. Her mouth devoured his with gut-wrenching passion. It was wild and tame at the same time. He gathered all her hair in h
is fist. His other hand glided down the small of her back, cupping her round, tight ass.
She pushed, straddling his waist, then sat up, forcing him to release her hair. She looked down at him, her lips pink and puckered from his kiss. Her chest heaved with labored breath. Her eyes danced with unspoken passion. He was about to suggest they had carried this too far for tonight when she grabbed the hem of her shirt, and then quickly tugged it over her head. Her bra was black and lacy, but he didn’t get to admire it, because before he had a chance to do anything but stare, she’d removed that piece of clothing as well.
He reached up, brushing her hair out of the way before pushing himself to a sitting position, cupping one breast with his hand while his mouth found the other one. She tasted like honey and smelled like sweet forbidden fruit. Her skin was softer than silk. She ran fingers through his hair as he went from one perfect, small, round, perky breast to the other. He was so lost in her there was no stopping him. She was the perfect woman. Not just her beauty, but her openness and genuine honesty. The way she whispered his name, encouraging him to continue exploring, sent a hot shiver through his body. He knew in that moment, there’d never be another woman for him.
He flipped her onto her back, quickly taking off his own shirt before reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. He held it up triumphantly.
Her smile faded just a little. “I’m not sure how to take that.”
“Condom,” he said softly.
“Good call.” Her fingers had already unfastened his jeans.
He grabbed her wrist. “I’m a little scared by how quick and good you are at removing clothing.”
“Should see me do a strip search.”
Her hair flowed over her shoulders, partly covering her breasts. He liked the look of it. He bent and kissed her navel. Her stomach was flat and firm. Her muscles twitched under his touch. Slowly, he kissed his way to the opening of her jeans, carefully unzipping them, then pulling them over one hip at a time. He felt her watching his every move, so he slowed it down even more.
She squirmed, trying to move him along faster, but he batted her hands away. He stood at the foot of the chaise lounge, surveying her jeans just over her hips, revealing a scant pair of panties. She was on her elbows, still looking up at him. “Do you need a hand?”