by Debra Webb
As soon as Burnett noticed her lingering in the archway that separated the family room from the kitchen, he shifted toward her. The move was subtle, the slightest turning of his body to face her. Whether it was the way he moved or just the way he looked, tall, strong and steady, Jess had never wanted to lean on those broad shoulders more than she did at that moment.
There she went, falling back into that same old pattern.
God, help her.
“She won’t budge,” Jess announced.
Saying the words weighed heavily on her shoulders, fueling the urge to lean against him. . . her new boss. A single-for-one-reason-or-another man.
Jess blinked. She straightened her weary body, drew her burdened shoulders back. She was stronger than this. Dammit. “You need to talk some sense into her, Blake.”
Shoulders down, hands in his pockets, and worry cluttering his face, Blake studied Jess a moment. “You really think we could be targets in this?”
Rather than march over and shake the hell out of him, she held onto her unraveling composure as best she could. “Belinda Howard was a guest in your home last night. If being here with me made her a target, do you really need to ask that question?”
Blake blinked, looked taken aback.
Okay, maybe he hadn’t deserved that. As miserable as he was making her sister just now, Jess wasn’t so sure. Nashville? Seriously?
“I think,” Burnett chimed in, “what Jess is trying to say is that it’s far better to be safe than sorry.”
Blake sucked in a harsh breath as if he’d only just awakened from a deep coma. “All right. I’ll make the arrangements with my brother in Pensacola. We’ll go there and stay a few days, get some time on the beach.”
Blake Junior looked up. “That’s what I’m talking ’bout!”
Alice made a face at his loud voice and turned back to her reading.
“Good.” Jess felt a wee bit relieved. “How quickly can you be packed and on the road?”
Blake Junior jumped up. “Five minutes, Aunt Jess.” He grinned as he hustled out of the room. The kid – man, actually – was as tall as his dad, a little over six feet, and every bit as handsome.
Lord, she felt old.
“We can be on the road by noon tomorrow,” Blake said, visibly braced for battle.
“Tomorrow?” Well, hell. The relief she’d felt faded. “Why not now?” It was summer. No school for the kids or Blake. What was the problem here?
Blake cleared his throat and met Jess’s glare with surprising determination. “I have an interview in Nashville first thing in the morning, but I’ll be back before noon. Lil and the kids can be ready to go and we’ll head out immediately.”
The professor had some balls after all, even if he was wrong. What idiot put his job before his family? “Every minute you delay,” Jess warned, “increases the risk to your family.” But then, how could she fault Blake when Lil hadn’t even been willing to compromise.
“I get my braces off in the morning, Aunt Jess. I can’t miss that appointment.”
Jess turned to Alice who was now frowning at her in that wish-you-would-go-away manner only teenagers could pull off. Great. Now Alice was mad at her. “That’s great, sweetie.”
“Deputy Chief Harris,” Special Agent Nora Miller spoke up, “I know you’re concerned for your sister and her family, but I assure you we have things under control. I’ll be here all night. In the morning I’ll personally escort Lily and her daughter to the appointment.”
The news of the career shift had certainly traveled swiftly. Probably by text. Jess hated text. Although she had enjoyed getting Gant’s goat with her resignation text.
“We’ll be fine,” Miller added when Jess didn’t immediately respond.
Jess stared at the agent. She was thirtyish. Probably four or five years’ experience. She seemed capable enough. Tall, athletic build. Brown hair coiled into a conscientious bun. Her made-for-comfort slacks and blouse were neat, conservative. Her shoes were the same; practical, well-polished leather oxfords.
She didn’t have a clue either.
Jess couldn’t fathom how to respond to her comment without offending the agent and upsetting Lily’s family. “Noon tomorrow,” Jess confirmed, resigned to their decision, “not a minute later?”
“Not a minute later,” Blake promised.
Jess shot him a skeptical look. “You’ll square that with Lil?”
“Before the kids and I are done, she’ll believe it was her idea,” he promised.
This was the best she could do, Jess supposed.
“Thank you for the coffee,” Burnett announced in the ensuing silence.
Jess gave her niece and nephew a hug and warned them to be extra careful. Under different circumstances she would have hauled her brother-in-law out back and demanded some answers. Nashville? What the hell was he thinking? Instead, she gave him an unenthusiastic version of the hug she’d given the kids and, with a pointed glance in the agent’s direction, walked out.
Burnett followed Jess out the front door as did the agent who had, thankfully, picked up on Jess’s subtle invitation.
Also sensing Jess had something to say to the FBI lady, Burnett jerked his head toward his officer standing at the street and said, “I’ll just be a minute.”
When Jess was alone with Agent Miller on the walk in front of her sister’s home, she said her piece. “Agent Miller, I don’t know the extent of your experience with killers like this one –”
“Ma’am,” Miller interrupted, “I spent the first three years of my career in Chicago before coming home to Birmingham.” She smiled – more of a smirk. “I know my way around the violent types.” She shrugged. “No offense, but, at this time, we don’t know for sure who this unsub is. Whoever he is, I assure you I have things here under control. And I will see that your family gets on the road by noon tomorrow.”
Maybe if she’d left it at her big-bad-city experience, Jess might have smiled right back at her and thanked her. . . but she hadn’t. . . and Jess couldn’t.
“Seventeen years,” Jess tossed back, “in too many places to name. I’ve seen it all, Agent Miller. I’ve analyzed the psychopaths who leave nothing but a greasy spot that represented what was once a human being. I’ve studied the true sociopaths who make the characters in a Stephen King novel look like altar boys. This,” Jess dragged in a breath to try and slow the mounting fury, “is the Player we’re dealing with and none of us have any aspect of this situation under control.”
Jess clamped her mouth shut. Too late. She’d already said too much.
Agent Miller nodded. “All right then. I’ll be extra vigilant, ma’am.”
No use denying a brick wall when she hit one. “Thank you, Agent Miller. I appreciate that. And I’m certain you’re aware of the danger to yourself as well as to BPD’s finest over there.”
Miller glanced at the officer. “I am.”
“Excellent.”
What else could she say? Not one damned thing. Jess walked straight to Burnett’s SUV and climbed in. Fear, disbelief, worry, confusion, anger. . . all of it bombarded her with renewed vengeance.
Burnett moved away from his officer, nodded to the agent and headed in Jess’s direction.
“Dammit,” she muttered. She blinked faster in an attempt to hold back the tears. Didn’t work. Hands shaking, she swiped at the blasted waterworks. If Burnett caught her crying. . . Damn Spears. Damn the Bureau. . . and damn her.
Burnett slid behind the wheel and started the engine. He sent a sideways glance her way.
“Don’t ask.”
He pulled away from the curb. “I know better.”
She closed her eyes and searched for a calm place. There was nothing she could do to further protect her sister tonight. All Jess could do was pray that they would be safe until they were on the road. As hard as it would prove, she had to set that problem aside and concentrate all her energies on finding Spears before either of the victims ended up dead.
Vi
ctims.
Lori and Belinda.
Jess could not set their names and faces aside and view either one as a statistic in this case. Although most all victims in the cases she had worked over the years were innocent and hadn’t deserved the horrors they suffered, this was different for Jess. Personal. That these two women had become victims was her responsibility.
If either one died, it would be because of her actions or lack of action.
The silence set like gelatin while Burnett maneuvered the evening traffic on the interstate between Bessemer and Birmingham proper.
“We’ll pick up your suitcase,” Burnett said, slicing through that thickening quiet. “I’ll have your car brought to the house tomorrow.”
Jess turned to him, the weariness and disturbing thoughts shifting to the back burner. “I need my car.” She wasn’t getting stranded again.
“No you don’t.”
Her gaze narrowed. Oh, no. He could forget that idea. “I am not staying at your house, Burnett. We’ve had this discussion already.” Like five days ago. His parents were home now so he certainly couldn’t suggest their place.
Queen Katherine would have a stroke if Jess showed up there again. She was likely still attempting to restore to rights her museum of a home after Jess’s short stay. She should be ashamed of herself for doing a bit of rearranging just to annoy Burnett’s mother, but she hadn’t been able to help herself. Katherine Burnett had worked overtime to make Jess feel inferior back in the day. She had made no bones about the fact that she did not want her only son to marry a girl from a carousel of foster homes.
Jess had never been good enough. Why the hell that still bothered her was a mystery that might never be solved.
“You will either stay with me or you’ll go with your sister.” He glanced at her, that smug look infuriating her all the more. “Take your pick.”
He knew she couldn’t go with her sister. She needed to be here, on this case. Besides, her presence with Lil would only draw Spears’ attention to her and her family more so than the media already had. That wasn’t even an option.
Jess faced forward and glared at the vehicle in front of them to prevent Burnett reading her emotions. She was damned close to her wit’s end with him and her family. Not to mention Gant and the Bureau in general. “You cannot tell me where to stay.”
She couldn’t buy a house until she sold her house in Virginia. But she could get an apartment. Maybe not tonight but tomorrow. Except she doubted there would be time. A hotel would be fast and easy, no time wasted.
They were wasting time now.
The search would continue all night and she should be out there. He should, too. She glared at Burnett’s profile. “We should be working with the search commander.”
“Forget it. And, for the record, I’m not telling you anything, Jess.” He met her glower head on for just long enough to emphasize his statement. “As your superior, I’m giving an order.”
He’d pushed her to officially accept the position and now he thought he was going to control her personal life, too. She would just see about that. He couldn’t make her stay at his house any more than Gant could pressure her off this case even if she had to investigate as a civilian. Men were the bane of her existence.
“As my superior,” she informed him, “what you’re suggesting would not only jeopardize both our positions in the department, it could jeopardize this case from a prosecution standpoint. Spears is extremely intelligent. If we’re lucky enough to catch him and have enough evidence to charge him, he will twist our every move to make us look incompetent and to somehow taint and discredit every step of our investigation.” Let him outmaneuver that argument!
Eric Spears was more than intelligent, he was cunning. Jess wasn’t willing to take the risk. He’d already shown her – he’d shown them all – just what he could do given even half a chance.
Jess closed her eyes. How could Gant, or anyone else, believe the allegations Spears had suggested?
“The risk is necessary.”
Her eyes snapped opened. “I know you didn’t just say that.” Considering the length of time he’d taken to answer, she’d expected better than that. “And what about perception, Burnett? Fraternization is an unpleasant word in the workplace. It prompts all sorts of even more unpleasant problems. Sexual harassment allegations, EEOC complaints, erosion of the chain of command.” She shook her head adamantly. “That would be asking for trouble. The whole department is going to be watching us, making judgments. It’s out of the question.”
If she was a man they wouldn’t be having this conversation. Burnett would respect her ability to take care of herself. End of story. God, she hated that whole male protector thing.
He kept quiet; apparently he’d tuned her out.
“This is not high school, Burnett,” she pressed. “You’re not star quarterback anymore with all your buddies following your every call on the field. You’re the chief of police and every single cop in the department, no matter the rank, no matter how much he likes or respects you, is watching and waiting for a mistake to pounce on. It’s human nature. We’re only a famine away from eating our young.”
The silent treatment continued.
She folded her arms over her chest. “The Holiday Inn works for me.”
“I won’t argue with you, Jess. I’ve made my decision. You will be my guest for the duration.”
Where was the anger? The frustration? He made the statements way too calmly. She started to demand a better answer, then the answer hit her. He was scared. Scared for her. Well, she was scared, too. Scared for her sister and her family. Scared for anyone Spears might target because of her. Scared and confused and frustrated and. . .
A new thought poked through the tangle of emotions. This was exactly what Spears wanted. He wanted her to feel this. Helpless, confused and afraid. As twisted and sadistic as he was, he understood that he did not possess the power to make her fear him, not on the level he needed anyway. The one true fear that throbbed under her skin and deep in her chest was that he would hurt her family.
Or someone he presumed was close to her.
Like Lori and poor unsuspecting Belinda Howard.
And Burnett.
Spears understood that simple truth about her.
Jess turned to Burnett, the impact hitting home. Spears had already made the connection between her and Burnett. He had done that two days ago. Just to taunt them both, he’d sparred via text with Burnett. He’d goaded Burnett with the idea that he wasn’t taking care of Jess.
No one needed to protect Jess. Spears had no desire to kill her – at least not yet. Not until he had tortured her sufficiently. And he’d only just begun. The best way to protect her family and anyone Spears hadn’t connected to her yet was to stay clear. Knowledge was power, the less she gave him the better.
In Burnett’s case staying clear wasn’t an option. The only way to protect him was to watch him every minute. Her professional reputation was already tarnished. What was one more thing for folks to talk about?
Burnett’s reputation could take the heat. His life was far more important to Jess than his career.
“Whatever you say, chief.”
Dunbrooke Dr., Mountain Brook, 8:55 p.m.
Jess had caved way too easily. Dan wasn’t sure why, but he wasn’t going to question it. He was just glad as hell she hadn’t fought him for once. He would protect her whether she liked it or not. He couldn’t trust her not to put herself at risk on this one. The case was too personal to her.
She’d rolled her suitcase to the bedroom farthest from his. Not that he could exactly blame her after that middle-of-the-night kiss he’d laid on her. Was that only three nights ago?
Between the last case they’d worked together and then this one, he’d lost all concept of time. Every minute was consumed with an urgency that took priority over all else. He’d only checked in with his step-daughter twice. Guilt settled heavily onto his shoulders. The ordeal Andrea had survived left
her badly shaken, perhaps more so than he or her mother realized. He wasn’t Andrea’s father but he loved her and he needed time to be there for her. He also needed to get Jess onboard with her new position. He sensed that she still didn’t see that aspect of her future.
But there was no time for either. . . not until Wells and Howard were found and this freak of nature was stopped.
Jess’s concerns about the legal and ethical issues related to her being his guest were not a priority for him just now. Whatever the ramifications, he would deal with those when this was done.
He checked the fridge for something quick and easy to prepare. Stopping by the Publix was one of those menial chores he hadn’t bothered with in a couple of weeks. Maybe he could call in a pizza. It wasn’t a glamorous meal but he doubted Jess was feeling any more glamorous than he was.
His gaze landed on the bag waiting on the top shelf in the fridge. That would work. Something else to feel guilty about.
He grabbed the bag Gina Coleman, Birmingham’s top reporter and a friend, had dropped off last night and sat it on the counter. A feast from Taziki’s. Classic Greek salad, basmati rice and grilled chicken breast. His favorite. Gina had reveled in describing each dish with sensual words and teasing body language.
A promise to have dinner with his parents had prevented him from sharing the meal with her. Just as well. He suspected Gina’d had more than dinner on her mind. She was without doubt even more pissed that he’d sent the department PR liaison to meet with her this afternoon to discuss Detective Wells’ abduction and the suspected connection to Spears.
She shouldn’t hold it against him since he’d been at a crime scene, but that completely understandable excuse still wouldn’t prevent her from being miffed.
He pulled two dinner plates from the rack and arranged the rice and chicken. A quick zap in the microwave and then he’d add the salad. While he waited for the food to warm he checked his cell. A text from Hogan relaying more disappointing news from the search commander. They’d found nothing other than a few squatters in the search of abandoned warehouses and buildings.
Another text, this one from Gina with a solitary question mark as the content.