by Webb, Debra
“Sure.” She swallowed at the massive lump of unstable emotions in her throat. “For old time’s sake.”
That breath-stealing smile of his was nearly enough to banish all the reasons this was a colossal mistake. You are in serious trouble here, Jess.
As he ushered her toward the row of checkout lines at the front of the store, she kept her lips sealed tight to hold back the bout of hysterical laughter building inside her.
It was a miracle she had survived the past twenty-four hours.
Now her sister was going to kill her.
4
One day earlier...
Warrenton, 9:20 a.m.
“I thought staying the night would be prudent,” Jess explained to her boss. Calling in this morning was essential since she’d opted to stay in the field and follow up with Delia Potter.
As he rambled on about the case, she sipped her coffee and surveyed the snowy parking lot outside the IHOP. The white stuff had started coming down hard as she’d driven away from the meeting with Potter late yesterday afternoon. With every radio station she perused forecasting a possible ten to twelve inches of snow overnight, staying put had seemed the best plan. Considering the Christmas rush would only add to potential travel issues, she hadn’t wanted to take any chances.
Sunrise had confirmed she’d made the right decision. The roads were a mess. Since Delia Potter planned a trip to Cincinnati this afternoon to spend the holidays with her family, catching her this morning was imperative.
Jess glanced at the sky. Puffy white clouds with a hint of gray threatened more of the same. She wondered how many flights would be cancelled. Potter might not be going anywhere after all. Jess was a little surprised she’d been able to obtain permission from the local authorities for the travel despite the ongoing investigation. A quick call to the lead detective who didn’t understand Jess’s surprise had confirmed Potter’s assertion. It was, after all, almost Christmas, he’d reminded her.
As long as she got what she needed from the lady before she left town, Jess would be happy. She was on the case now and she wasn’t about to allow this to be the one she failed to wrap up with a nice, neat bow.
“What’s your take on Potter?” Gant wanted to know. “You get the feeling she knows more than she’s shared so far?” He didn’t bother trying to camouflage the hope in his voice.
Any margin for optimism was minimal at this stage but what little there was Jess owned it. Delia Potter had asked her to come back this morning. She had presented the impression she wanted to talk but said she needed time to think. Not exactly an appropriate reaction for someone who had nothing else to say and nothing to hide.
Jess had spent last night going over the case file Gant had provided and mulling over the meeting with Potter. The woman had exhibited no apparent discomfort during their brief conversation, at least not once she got passed the I-don’t-want-to-go-to-court attitude. Her demeanor suggested reluctance and impatience. What the woman really wanted was off the hook with her former lover’s troubles.
“I think,” Jess weighed her words carefully, “Delia Potter believes she knows something relevant but doesn’t want to get mired any deeper than she already is.”
Gant hummed a noncommittal note. “I’m counting on you, Harris. Chances are those women are dead. I have no illusions this is going to have a happy ending. Either way, we need to know what he did with them.”
“I’ll do what I can,” Jess assured him again.
Delia Potter walked in. She looked from one booth to the next.
“She’s here. I’ll call when I have something.”
Jess shoved the phone into her purse and waved. Potter strolled toward the table, her stride unhurried. She set her purse on the brown faux leather and removed her coat before scooting into the booth.
“I’m glad you could make it.” Jess gifted her with a smile as she motioned for the waitress.
Potter ordered coffee, then announced, “I want this over. No offense to you, Agent Harris, but I don’t want any more visits from cops. I’d like to move on with my life.”
“I can certainly understand.” There were four families out there who wanted their loved ones back. Jess had no sympathy for the woman but it was best not to mention as much.
The waitress dropped off a fresh carafe of coffee and moved on to the next table.
“This might be nothing,” Potter began, “but it’s been nagging at me.”
“The smallest detail might be just the one we need,” Jess prompted.
Potter seemed to brace herself. “I didn’t mention anything about Dale because it didn’t seem right to burden him with all this. Frankly, I’ve had moments when I wished I’d just walked away and never said a word.”
How selfless of her. “Who’s Dale?”
“Dale Pritchard. He was in Nam with Melvin. They were prisoners of war together. Shared the same cage.” She shook her head. “You have no idea what those two suffered. The stories Melvin told me.” She shuddered. “I can’t help wondering if that’s what turned him into what he is today.”
Jess had read Aniston’s file. He was a decorated veteran. Despite being a POW, there was no history of diagnosed or treated post-traumatic stress disorder in his file. No history of any sort of trouble, legal or otherwise. Those who knew him considered him a nice, quiet man who kept to himself. Evidently Aniston’s still waters ran deeper than anyone suspected.
“Does Dale live in Warrenton?”
Potter cradled her coffee with both hands. “He lives on the other side of Ruckersville. About an hour and a half from here. Dale doesn’t get out much. He spends most of his time in a wheelchair nowadays. Like I said, they both came back from Nam in bad shape. I guess I just didn’t want to see how bad.”
“The two kept in touch?” Jess’s instincts had started to buzz.
Potter nodded. “Melvin has visited Dale about once a month for as long as I’ve known him.”
Nothing particularly suspicious about visiting a war buddy. “Do you believe Melvin may have shared information with Dale about the women?”
Potter stared at her coffee for a moment. “I honestly don’t know,” she took a big breath, “but about six months ago he started spending a lot more time with Dale. Going over a couple of times a week. I guess I got a little jealous. Seemed like he was never around for me anymore.”
Now they were getting somewhere. “Did you ask about this sudden change? Maybe his friend was sick and needed his attention?”
“He wouldn’t talk about it. Said it was none of my business.”
“Have you contacted Dale since Melvin’s arrest?” Aniston was taken into custody three weeks ago. Surely the other man had wondered what was going on, whether he watched the news or not. “Has Dale called to see why Melvin hasn’t visited him lately?”
“That’s what got me to thinking.” She set her coffee down and leaned toward Jess, her face a study in concern. “He hasn’t called or anything. I guess that was the part that started to nag at me. It didn’t feel right.”
“Does Dale live alone? He may be ill.” Or dead. If there was no one to check on him anything could have happened. “Have you attempted to get in touch with him?”
“I tried to call but he didn’t answer.” She frowned and shifted in her seat as if growing uncomfortable. “Melvin told me once that no one knew him the way Dale did. I’m worried now that Dale figured out what Melvin was doing and he did something awful to him.”
Jess took a pad and pencil from her purse. “Write down Dale’s address and phone number and I’ll check on him. See what I can find out for you.”
Potter glanced out the window. “His place is off the main highway. You might have trouble getting to him if this weather keeps up.”
Abrupt winter storms were just something you got used to in northern Virginia. Jess had learned to be prepared. Boots and a blanket in the trunk along with a change of clothes and a spare toothbrush. Her work took her away from home regularly, being equipp
ed for an overnighter was just part of the job. Since moving to BAU she’d missed the field work. Maybe that was part of the reason she’d stayed last night. It felt good to be back in the game at this level.
“You just enjoy the holiday with your family, Ms. Potter. I’ll get an update on Dale.” Jess studied the older woman as she jotted down the information. “Is there anything else you remembered?”
Potter passed the notepad and pencil back to Jess. “Nothing.” She sighed, more of that worry in her expression. “I hope I’m not wasting your time. Dale’s sixty-eight and his health isn’t very good. I keep wondering if maybe I made a mistake by not mentioning him sooner. If he’s part of this, those women could all be dead because of me.”
Interesting about face from yesterday’s attitude. Her tone and demeanor appeared genuine. Maybe too much so. Jess offered a sympathetic smile. “You did remember and that’s what matters. After I’ve paid Dale a visit, how about I give you a call and let you know how he’s doing?”
Potter looked relieved. She pressed a hand to her chest. “That would be so thoughtful of you. Are you going today? I can call him again. Leave a message. He always checks his machine.”
Really? But just a few minutes ago she claimed to have tried calling Dale and he hadn’t answered. Why hadn’t she left a message if he always checked his machine?
“Yes, I’m going today.” Jess finished off her coffee. “I’ll drive over as soon as we’re finished here. Why don’t I take your sister’s name and number? You said she’s in Cincinnati? What time’s your flight again?”
Jess had a feeling Ms. Delia Potter was planning a disappearing act of her own.
5
Christmas Eve
Birmingham, Alabama, The Fifth, 7:40 p.m.
Cops and lawyers. Even on Christmas Eve the downtown pub was filled with people who either hunted down the bad guys or prosecuted them. Jess didn’t remember this place from before. Then again, it was a little more upscale than the places they had stolen into as teenagers.
The building was an old one with a lot of the historic architectural details still intact. The decor was stark and urban. But the crowd was warm and friendly. Jess couldn’t deny an instant kinship.
“So you work for the mayor?” She traced the sweat sliding down her longneck bottle of beer. There was nothing particularly unique about the domestic label but it gave her a distraction. Every time she settled her gaze on Dan she got lost somehow.
“I’m the liaison between the mayor’s office and the police department. It’s a new position. One we’ve needed for years.”
“You’re turning into a politician after all.” She’d always said he would make a good one. He could charm anyone into most anything.
Dan laughed. “I don’t know about that but I do enjoy my work. It gives me an opportunity to make a difference, you know what I mean?”
She gave a nod. “I absolutely do.”
Her gaze rested back on the bottle. It was better than looking into the mirror behind the bar. On the drive from Publix she’d dragged the ponytail holder from her hair and run her brush through it. Three Altoids had numbed her tongue but at least she’d gotten the too-many-hours-on-the-road taste out of her mouth.
Dan had offered to drive her but there was no way she was getting into his vehicle alone with him. No way.
Speaking of his ride. “What happened to the Thunderbird?” The convertible he’d driven all through high school and college had been replaced by a big Chevy SUV. A nice ride but not nearly as sexy. Not a Dan car.
He grinned. “You always did like that car.”
She would be lying if she denied the charge. They’d made love for the first time in the backseat. “I guess I did.”
He looked away but not before she saw the flash of guilt in his eyes. “It was time to get something more reliable. The T-Bird had a lot of miles on it.” He knocked back a slug of his beer.
She supposed that was his way of saying he’d needed to move on. Why not? He’d certainly moved on from her in all other ways. Jess turned up her beer to drown the thought. What the hell was she doing? She felt like one of those people who couldn’t stop staring at the steam rising from the mangled metal of the two cars that had just collided.
“You’ve certainly moved up from that Jetta you drove all over Boston.”
Jess set the beer aside and plucked a peanut from the small bowl the bartender and provided. “It was time.” She’d practically driven the wheels off that old Jetta.
Unlike the Thunderbird, they hadn’t made love in her Jetta. Instead, they’d spent most of their time in it quarreling. She would never forget the first time she’d left Boston headed to Quantico for a summer internship with the Bureau. Dan hadn’t made the list. They’d spent most of the summer apart. If she hadn’t been so focused on making an impression, she would have realized that was the beginning of the end.
They’d argued before she’d driven away. He insisted he wanted her to go and yet she had sensed his emotional withdrawal. Barely a year later he was ready to come back to Alabama without her. Only when he’d driven away there hadn’t been any arguing. There hadn’t even been a goodbye.
She tossed the nut back in the bowl and finished off her beer. “This was fun.” Not. “I should get going.”
He couldn’t let her go.
“I saw Lil a few weeks ago,” Dan interjected, hoping to distract her from leaving. Not that he could blame her. He’d said all the wrong things. He’d definitely made all the wrong moves.
Maybe it was the shock of seeing her after all this time. He couldn’t believe she was here. She was still just as beautiful as the first time he’d laid eyes on her at that football game. His first thought had been of how very much he’d wanted her.
“You did?” Jess looked surprised. “Lil didn’t mention it.”
He loved her eyes. They were the deepest brown. The rich dark color was a vivid contrast to her creamy skin and lush blonde hair. God, he’d dreamed of that face so many times.
“Where did you see her?”
Pay attention, man. “Her son was one of twenty students to receive an academic commendation from the mayor. He’s a smart kid.”
“Both her kids are smart.” Jess smiled. “Lil and Blake are doing a great job as parents.”
Dan’s chest tightened. He couldn’t help wondering if he and Jess had stayed together if they would have had kids by now. Not likely. She was too career oriented. He glanced at her ring finger again. He wondered why there wasn’t at least an engagement ring there.
He, on the other hand, had muddled his way through two marriages. Both had been mistakes. He flinched. Not a subject he wanted to visit tonight.
Another thing he didn’t want right now was to spend just one hour with this woman. He wanted to know everything about her. Sixty minutes would never be enough.
When she reached for her purse, he said the first thing that came to mind, “You still have that apartment?”
She jerked her head up as if he’d shouted. “No... I have a condo, but I’m looking for a house in Stafford since I’m in Virginia now.”
Felt strange to think of her living some place besides that apartment... the one they had shared. “I just got a place downtown. I’m on call twenty-four/seven, living in the heart of the city seemed like the smart way to go.”
Her smile slipped a little. She was ready to go. His gut clenched. What did he expect? That she’d be happy to see him?
Not after he’d walked away... even he hadn’t forgiven himself for that one. Maybe he never would.
A new kind of hope flared inside him. This was his chance. Maybe running into each other had been fate. He had a chance to set things to rights between them.
“My new place is just across the street,” he said quickly. “You have to see the view. You’ll love it. I swear.”
Her posture changed, stiffened. Those dark eyes turned wary. She was going to say no. “Dan, that’s—”
“An excellen
t idea.” He stood and reached for her hand. “Remember, I have connections in this town. Give me any trouble, Agent Harris, and I might have to pull some strings.”
She laughed. The rich sound made his heart glad. How he had missed her laugh.
“Five minutes,” she warned, “and then I’m on my way.”
“Deal.”
He’d negotiated himself a few more minutes. Now all he had to do was find the guts to say what needed to be said before his time was up.
6
One day earlier...
Ruckersville, Virginia, 12:50 p.m.
Jess slowed her Audi and stared at the road sign. It was an old one, part of the lettering was worn off. G..en . . .f. Looked like Green Leaf to her. Potter said she’d only been here once but the old farmhouse was at the end of Green Leaf Road just off Route 610.
“Hope this is you, Mr. Pritchard.”
She would have been here an hour ago if not for a damned flat tire. After Delia Potter headed for the airport, Jess was stuck at the IHOP until Warrenton Tire & Auto could get someone over to remedy the situation. As she made the turn onto Green Leaf, she hoped there was a gravel road beneath this blanket of fluff. Fortunately, all the main roads had been cleared. But not the side roads like this one. She glanced up at the sky. The white stuff was still coming down. Was it getting heavier now? She hoped not.
The farther she drove down the narrow road the more the woods seemed to close in on it. Drifts of snow perched on every available ledge. The evergreen branches were loaded down with it reminding her that Christmas was only two days away. Lil had been begging her to come home for the holidays. Thanksgiving hadn’t happened and now she was pushing for Christmas. It had been a long time.
But holidays were just like any other day for Jess. She didn’t even bother with a tree. She was never home anyway. The few times a year when she saw her family they came to Virginia.
Lil never let too much time pass between visits and she didn’t understand why it had to be work first with Jess.