All the Hidden Sins

by Marian Lanouette

  “It’s late, Phil, and I have a long drive ahead of me. Some other time.”

  “You should’ve let me send the limo for you. If you’re tired you’re welcome to stay here.”

  Her shock must have shown. He added, “No strings attached.”

  “Thank you. A gracious offer, but I’m not divorced yet. I don’t want to put myself in a compromising position.”

  “Smart. Will I see you again?”

  “It’s not wise to mix business and pleasure. You’re my boss.” She turned the light on over her head. Searched deep into his raven eyes.

  “I don’t see it going anywhere. Of course, you can’t gauge where something’s going based on one date. I’d like to see you again.”

  Kyra didn’t respond right away.

  “I’ll tell you what, no pressure. I’ll call you during the week. If you’d like to have a second date, we’ll make plans.”

  “Thanks, I’ll look forward to your call.”

  Leaning over, he turned off the light she had turned on, then took her in his arms and kissed her. Nothing, not even a spark. No current running through her like she’d experienced with Jake. More amused than mad when Phil slipped his hand up her front and cupped her breast, she placed her hand over his, and removed it before breaking the embrace.

  “Good night, Phil.”

  A smile washed over his face. “Good night, Kyra. Drive with care. There are a lot of drunks out this time of night.”

  “I will. Thanks again.”

  The walk to her car had her debating whether she should go home or to the casino—willpower mixed with common sense won out. The last person she wanted to see tonight was Joe Dillon.

  When she got home, a car parked in the spot next to her assigned one had its windows all steamed up. Kyra didn’t recognize it. The hair on the back of her neck stood up. Should she get out of her car? Call the police. Phone in hand, she was about to open the door when the driver’s door of the other car opened.

  Chapter 11

  A thousand questions ran through her mind as he tried her locked passenger door. Kyra stared at him. Why was he here? What did he want? Was that a new car? There was only one way to find out. First, he invites me to dinner and now he shows up on my doorstep. What’s his game? Kyra unlocked her doors.

  “What, were you at the casino?” Tommy accused.

  “No. I had a date,” she said.

  “Another date? Who’s the guy?”

  “It wasn’t the same guy, Tommy. Why are you here? Where’s Trevor?”

  “He slept over at my parents’ house tonight. I had a date too, but she canceled.”

  She knew that “poor me” tone he used when he wanted something.

  “Why are you here?” she asked again.

  “I miss you, baby. When you said you had a date, it pissed me off…”

  She pushed him back when he reached for her. “Tommy, let me remind you of your exact words. ‘You’re dead to me.’ Do you remember them?”

  He sat up straighter, a typical move he made when he’d been drinking. “I remember,” he whispered.

  “Good. Now get out of my car. There’s nothing here for you.”

  “I’m sorry, Kyra, I still love you. I haven’t dated anyone else. Did you have sex with him?”

  Gripping the steering wheel, she fought for control. “It’s none of your business, Tommy, though you should know me better by now.”

  Silence. She turned in her seat to face him. Not for one second did she believe the tears that rolled over his cheeks.

  “I thought I did—then you betrayed us.”

  She blinked away her tears. “I didn’t betray you. Do you understand addictions? Would it have been better if I had a drug or alcohol addiction?”

  “Are you getting help?” He reached for her, she pulled back.

  “We’ve been through all this before. Go home.”

  “I need you.” In an instant he had her in his arms, his lips pressed to hers. She pressed her lips closed as she fought to get away.

  “What are you, drunk or crazy?”

  “Neither, I want to try to fix us.”

  “Fix us? That ship has long sailed. We can’t take back all the things we said to each other or, more important, how you took my son away from me. No, we’re through. Go home.”

  Tears ran down her face. Her heart ached. She’d almost given in to him. Then he grabbed her arm and squeezed it hard.

  “Let go or I’ll call the police,” she yelled.

  He’d never raised a hand to her during their marriage, though he came close the night he discovered she’d raided the pensions and the 401k.

  “Please listen to me. We need to be a family again. I miss you, but Trevor misses you more. Please consider a reconciliation.”

  She wanted to go in and sleep for a year. Confused, angry, and frightened. Tell him what he wants to hear, a voice in her head shouted. End this night now.

  “I will. I’ll see you at dinner this week. We’ll talk more then.” She saw hope in his face though she knew she’d never take him back.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why don’t you lock your car? I’ll walk you to your door.” Tom was always a gentleman, but at the moment she didn’t trust him.

  “You don’t need to walk me to my door. I’ve been on my own for months now.” The pleasure she received rubbing it in his face was small. Oh well, you take your fun where you can.

  “I deserved that.” He leaned in to kiss her. She pulled back.

  “Good night.” She waited for him to get out of her car and climb into his. She wanted to stay put until he drove away but he didn’t move. She realized he wasn’t going to leave until she was inside. She rushed to her door, unlocked it, pushed it open, and waved to him as she stepped inside and slammed it closed. She threw the deadbolt into place before setting the alarm, her movements jerky as she slid to the floor in tears. She hadn’t realized until that moment how frightened Tommy had made her. He seemed different tonight.

  Her cell phone started to ring. “Phil?” What the hell does he want at this hour?

  “I wanted to make sure you got home all right.”

  “I got in a few minutes ago.”

  “Did you run into any trouble?”

  “No.”

  “You sound upset. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She knew he’d never let it go. “My ex-husband was waiting for me when I got home. He wanted to talk.”

  “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  “Phil—no—I’m confused.” I want to go to bed.

  “Okay, as long as you’re all right. I wanted to tell you again how much I enjoyed the evening.”

  “Thanks again, good night.” She hung up first, stripped off her dress, and kicked her shoes across the room before she fell into bed in her underwear. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

  * * * *

  Out his back door, Jake studied the charcoal sky. Black fading to gray as the night shifted into day. Lightning lit the sky with a promise of a passing storm. If it had to rain on his day off, at least it promised to be brief. The clock on the microwave read four, too early to call Kyra and see if she wanted to join him for a picnic once the weather cleared up.

  He’d had a restless night and picked apart the reasons. Stack’s file continued to rattle around his head. Gambler goes missing, who’s responsible? The answer’s always the same. He owed someone a lot of money and took off. Or someone he owed took their due in a pound of flesh. In Church’s case, which one was it? He’d look into who ran the gambling in Connecticut. That would be his starting point. According to Louie’s voicemail, he was close to closing the Kolinski case. One down and several outstanding. Someday he hoped there’d be no names on the murder board. And pink elephants wil
l fly.

  Though a bit early, he showered and dressed. He’d go to the station to kill a few hours and put in some serious time on his cases instead of putzing around the house all morning. Before heading out, he’d walk Brigh to give her some exercise. The pooch was becoming lazy.

  “Brigh, want to go out?” Jake rubbed the dog’s head, grabbed her leash. “Hey, it’s Sunday, do you want to come to work with me?”

  Brigh licked his hand as if she understood and jumped up onto his leg. Chuckling, he took her outside. Brigh stood perfectly still. In the dark Brigh glued herself to his leg. He didn’t fear the dog running away. A scaredy cat, but Brigh was living up to her Gaelic name. It meant survivor, power, force, and strength. The poor thing was all of that and sweet. How she’d remained gentle after all the abuse she’d taken in her first four months was beyond him.

  After their walk, Brigh climbed into the back seat, while Jake sat at the wheel. It didn’t surprise him to see Louie at his desk when he and Brigh walked into the bullpen.

  “Why are you here this early? Sophia kick you out?”

  “I have unfinished paperwork. I’ve also been catching up on your Missing Persons’ files. Something’s not right there. Oh, look who’s here.” Louie bent and rubbed Brigh behind the ears.

  “It’s the reason I’m here too. How’d the guys make out over the weekend? Any new cases?”

  “One new homicide and a teenager gone missing, but she was found an hour later at her boyfriend’s. I’m also working the Wade case. Looks like an accidental death.”

  “Looks like, why isn’t it?”

  “I need to check out a few things before I say,” Louie said as he scratched his head.

  * * * *

  Kyra woke at nine—disoriented, twisted, and tangled in her sheets. She looked around for Tommy. Realizing it was a dream, she got out of bed and headed into the bathroom. Her head throbbed. I didn’t drink a lot last night. It has to be nerves. Turning on the hot water for the shower, she climbed in.

  The steaming water washed over her, easing the tension in her body. Her cell phone started ringing. Her eyes popped open at the ring tone. Shit, she got shampoo in her eyes.

  “Screw it, I’m not answering it. It’s probably Tommy anyway or worse Phil,” she said aloud.

  Thirty minutes later, with a sense of being half-human she climbed out of the shower. As Kyra toweled off she looked in the mirror. Lord, I’ve aged this week. If she wrote a book on all of last week’s chance meetings and offers alone who’d believe it? They’d label it pure fiction. I wish.

  On the way into the bedroom, she picked up her cell phone off the counter. Three missed calls. Scrolling down the list, she made a mental note of the callers. The first number she recognized as Tommy’s, the next two came up unknown. Each had left her a voicemail. Hitting the voicemail button, Tommy’s voice filled the air.

  “Hey, Kyra…I wanted to say I’m sorry for scaring you last night. We’re still married, and you with another guy…drove me crazy. It’s my problem, sorry.” He hung up. She pressed the save button. It might come in handy one day.

  The next message was from Jake. “Hi, Kyra, it’s Sunday, I was wondering if you had plans for today. If not, would you like to do something? Give me a call. Oh, it’s Jake.” Laughing, she wrote down his number and stored it for future use.

  The last message didn’t surprise her. Phil. What did he want? “Hello Kyra, it’s Phil. I hope you got some rest last night. I wanted to make sure you were okay—if you’d like to do something today, let me know.” At the end of his message she hit the delete key.

  Jake’s offer was the only one that sounded tempting. What was she going to do about him? Tommy’s message confused her. Not for a minute did she trust his professed jealousy. It had to do with the divorce. She needed to behave in order to get Trevor back. It struck her, she hadn’t gambled since Tuesday night. Didn’t that prove she didn’t need help? Ironic—here she had all this money and now she didn’t want to gamble. All she wanted to do was spend time with Jake.

  * * * *

  Jake’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he looked at the number and smiled. He hated to admit it but he’d been anticipating her call. Brigh stood then rested her head on his lap.

  “Hi.”

  “It’s Kyra.”

  “I’m glad you called back. Do you have plans today?” He ran his hand over Brigh’s back as he planned out what he’d do with Kyra today. He’d need to take Brigh home.

  “I’m free.”

  “How about a picnic?”

  “That sounds wonderful.”

  “I’ll pick you up in an hour if that’s good for you?”

  “I’ll be ready. I just got out of the shower. Lazy day.”

  “I’ll help you dry off,” his husky voice offered a promise of more, he hoped.

  “Maybe someday in the future,” she teased.

  “Shot down again? Oh well.”

  “Wounded, but not killed.”

  “Then there’s hope. See you in an hour.” Her humor lifted his spirits.

  “Bye.”

  * * * *

  Now for the hard call. Talk about playing with fire. Worse than fire—knives that cut deep. He picked up on half a ring.

  “I’m delighted you called back.”

  “Hi, Phil.”

  “How are you today?”

  “I’m good, thanks for your concern.”

  “Did he leave you alone?”

  “Yes. I guess he got jealous when he heard I had a date. He’s okay now.”

  “Want me to talk to him?”

  A chill ran down her spine as his meaning hit home.

  “Please, don’t. I’m fine. Nine years is a long time to be together. Separating takes some getting used to.” Why the hell had she gone on the date with Phil? He was nothing but trouble. Not that she’d had a choice.

  “I understand. Do you want to do something today?”

  “I’m sorry, Phil, I have other plans.” She didn’t elaborate.

  “I’ll call you during the week to set up dinner. Take care.”

  “I’ll look forward to it.” He didn’t sound happy, but at least he didn’t ask what her plans were. She didn’t bother to call Tommy back. Perhaps tonight she might…

  Kyra dressed with care. Her body tingled all over in anticipation of seeing Jake again. She put on her new jeans with embroidered red roses and a short-sleeve mauve top. She took the light green sweater out of the closet. It set off her eyes. The weather in June in New England changed by the minute. One hour it could be seventy degrees, the next fifty. Even with the sweater, she decided she’d take along her spring jacket. I should have some money with me in case. For reassurance she checked what she had left from the original three thousand she’d put in her purse on Friday. Six hundred fifty dollars was enough for today.

  Kyra walked into her living room, draped her jacket and purse over the chair. She rechecked her makeup in the mirror by the door to make sure she hid the unflattering, deep dark circles under her eyes. Though she tried to calm her nerves, she paced the room while she waited for Jake. A harmless picnic, or was it? Mob, cop, burned bodies? Playing with fire is becoming my trademark.

  * * * *

  Phil didn’t like being blown off. And that’s what Kyra had done to him. She pulled back last night though he couldn’t figure out why or what he’d done that turned her off. What kind of plans did she have today? Who was the lucky man—her ex-husband or the cop? Neither choice made him happy.

  “What’s up, boss?”

  “Nothing, Angelo. Leave me be.” Phil waved him away.

  “You sure?”

  “Yes.” He reached for his desk phone. After picking up the receiver he slammed it back down and noticed Angelo still standing in the doorway.

  “Don’t you un
derstand English?” he snapped.

  “Sorry, boss. You want anything?”

  “No.”

  Angelo left the room. Phil picked the phone up again to call Joe Dillon. When the call went to voicemail his blood boiled. He better answer this time. He redialed.

  “Hello.”

  “Joe, it’s Phil. Has Kyra been to the casino this week?” He didn’t want small talk, he wanted answers.

  “I haven’t seen her, Phil, but I’ll check to make sure. It surprised me she hasn’t shown up here yet with her new found weal—” Phil cut him off.

  “Don’t say anything stupid, Joe,” he warned.

  “Sorry.”

  Phil slammed down his phone. He picked up his pencil, started tapping the desk, a nervous tic that emerged when he was aggravated. What was up with Kyra? Did she get smart and stop gambling? Who was she out with today?

  It wasn’t like him to moon over a woman. If he wanted one, he called one. They were a dime a dozen, but this Kyra was a different sort. Before working for him, she seemed to have been a woman with middle-class values. Gambling had taken her down. What was he going to do with her? Was she telling the truth when she said she wasn’t going to see the cop again? Frustrated, he snapped the pencil in half.

  “Angelo!” The door swung open. Angelo’s six foot frame filled the doorway.

  “Yeah, boss?”

  “Bring the limo around. I want to go for a ride.”

  “Right away.”

  Ten minutes later, pulling out of the driveway, Angelo asked, “Where to, boss?”

  “Take Route 2 toward Hartford.”

  They drove in silence for a while. “What’s the matter, Phil?” Phil looked up, met Angelo’s gaze in the mirror. On rare occasions Angelo called him Phil. They went way back. Phil trusted Angelo more than any other person in this world.

  “I’m off today.”

  “It’s the redhead, isn’t it?” Angelo pressed.

  “Yes, Ang, it is. She got under my skin.”

  “Be careful there, women aren’t your strong point.”

  He didn’t need to be reminded. Women didn’t like him and he didn’t understand why.