~~~
Lucy waited in her bedroom while Jack retrieved his laptop that he kept in his car. By using two computers, he’d reasoned, the task would flow better. They could work side by side, pick out anything unusual, and discuss it before moving on.
Lucy had to admit the idea made sense.
Jack finally returned and both got busy, sifting through each file, page by painstaking page.
She finally stretched, then sighed and rubbed her tired eyes. God, they stung and had to be bloodshot from lack of sleep. She’d pulled her long brown hair through a scrunchie, and hadn’t bothered with makeup. Heck, she seldom wore it. Lucy wasn’t trying to impress Jack. If anything, she was trying to distance herself from the camaraderie that had sprung up between them after their honest conversation earlier.
Still, his dynamic force made an impact on her senses. This attraction, or whatever, seemed to grow, but wasn’t overwhelming, mainly because they’d both ignored it during the last few hours. Lucy enjoyed Jack’s company. Too much. He didn’t bug her with stupid questions like Mike was prone to do when working this closely together. Her partner’s innuendoes and come-ons always grated on her patience. Since breakfast and his confession, Jack had been a perfect gentleman and no matter the reason, he really seemed interested in helping her find Cassie. For that, Lucy would be eternally grateful.
“Find anything useful in that file?” Jack’s voice drew her gaze.
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Lucy rolled her aching shoulders and pressed in at the small of her back. “Damn, my back hurts.”
Jack rose and placed his hands on her shoulder blades. “What don’t you know about?” he asked distractedly, starting to work the kinks out with gifted fingers.
“Marci Banks. She skirted close to the line of being a problem kid when her mom and dad went through a divorce six months ago. Says here, she was only acting out her anger.” Damn, that felt glorious, interrupting her train of thought when Jack dug into the knots surrounding her neck. “You missed your calling. You’ve got great hands, Finnegan.”
“Yeah? Well, don’t get too comfortable because I expect you to reciprocate. My back’s killing me too.” Still kneading, he said, “You were saying?”
Lucy tossed a handful of hair out of Jack’s way and refocused on the screen. “Where was I?” Yet it took a full thirty seconds before the point she was about to make returned. “Oh yeah. Marci went through Cardello’s courtroom three months ago, but it’s probably nothing. After counseling, her grades were back in the three- to four-point range.” Lucy kept reading, scanning more of what the file revealed. “They’re all good kids, from good families in the area. So, why did Cassie—wait a minute. I almost missed this. The reason Marci went through Cardello’s courtroom in the first place. She ran away for a couple of weeks, got ninety days probation and was almost home free, but she missed her last counseling session. According to a call to her mother, she was sick. And there’s no follow-up.”
“Hmm.” Jack stopped kneading and leaned closer, eyeing the screen. “When was that?”
“Last week. The twenty-eighth, to be exact.” Pointing, Lucy was surprised at how normal she sounded considering his face was an inch from hers, and if she turned toward him, their lips might actually touch again. She inhaled a deep breath and fought to control her racing pulse, praying he wouldn’t hear her thumping heart. Placing her palms on her knees, she pressed out nonexistent wrinkles. Some friend she was being when she couldn’t even concentrate now that she’d actually uncovered something Cassie might have zeroed in on.
Gripping her shoulders, Jack squeezed. “Good work, Maddox.” Lucy nodded, ignoring the heat generated by those hands as he added, “We should check her out. Talk to her, since she’s the closest example in all these files that even connects to the dead girl, Reecie Holloway.”
“Don’t get too excited. I doubt it will lead anywhere. Girls like Marci and the others wouldn’t hang out with Reecie.” When he threw her a questioning look, she offered a sad smile, remembering the harsher realities of the teenage pecking order all those years ago. “Considering their social backgrounds. Geez, they’re worlds apart.” Lucy knew firsthand the kind of ostracizing that went on between the kids at school, especially between the popular girls and the nobodies. Some could be pretty damn catty, the type with their claws unsheathed, rather than purring sweethearts like Sadie. “A student on the verge of dropping out, like Reecie, doesn’t draw the cool crowd, unless they were using her somehow. For thrills.”
His eyebrows rose, adding to his confused expression as he released her. “Thrills?”
“You know.” Lucy nodded. “Like walking on the wild side…sort of makes ’em cool by association. To get some kind of sick kick from hanging with the loser runaway or homeless kid.” She’d experienced a taste of that kind of cruelty before she’d dropped out of high school. From kids who pretended to befriend her to hang out for a day or so, then would spit on her the next time they happened to walk past her. Lucy had gotten too good at spotting the phonies, as she’d thought of them, so it only happened a couple of times—by mean girls no different from some in these files, she’d bet. Gifted girls who had it all. Money, looks, brains, but little else, like self-esteem. Otherwise, why lord it over someone who had nothing? Mental bullying, as she’d thought of it back then. Why would they even bother unless they’d lacked that key element? Even though Lucy saw it for what it was, the bullying still made her feel even less than a nobody.
He shrugged. “It’s a lead that may well go nowhere, but without anything else, I say we follow up on it. Maybe your friend met with this Marci and she can tell us something about where she might have gone from there.”
Lucy felt Jack’s gaze and nodded. “Yeah, maybe.” She hesitated. “Or maybe they met each other during those two weeks she was supposedly on the streets.” Except, when kids from Marci’s background ran away, Lucy had it on good authority from Cassie that unless they were heavy drug users, they usually shacked up at a friend’s house—a place where the parents happened to be gone, either on a vacation or a business trip. So in reality, it was more like a holiday from rules, completely at the other end of the spectrum from what it was like to be truly homeless.
Eying her speculatively, he said, “You don’t sound very excited.”
Lucy studied her nails and lifted her shoulders in a careless shrug. “I’m not. I’m being realistic about uncovering any worthwhile information.” She snorted. “Reecie was a runaway who died, so she can’t help us. Marci’s had weeks of counseling, something Reecie never got a chance at. According to the files, Reecie’s mother had no idea where she was when she died. And Marci’s mother claims her baby just got mixed up and missed her appointment. And did the court reprimand her? No. Hell, she probably blew it off and went shopping, figuring she didn’t need it anymore and the mom gave her the money and said to go ahead. Let’s face it. Marci got a slap on the wrist and Reecie got death. They had nothing in common.” Classic examples of the haves and the have-nots.
Jack bent and kissed her forehead in a brotherly move…except Lucy knew damn well he wasn’t her brother. “Don’t look now,” he said. “But your cynicism is showing.”
Lucy tossed out another snort. “It’s not cynicism. It’s reality.”
“Yeah, well, when it’s all we got, we take it. We start with these two and see where it leads us. Agreed?”
Nodding, Lucy stood and tamped down her disappointment that the files hadn’t yielded more clues. “Can we stop off at Cassie’s place on the way back?” Maybe she would find something she missed earlier.
“I’m driving,” Jack said, on the way to his black BMW once she’d locked up. “Okay?”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “Fine, whatever.” Riding in his sleek car would be a heck of a lot more comfortable than her tiny Kia. “What is it about men and driving?”
The lopsided grin she was beginning to love was back as he said, “I can’t speak for others, but I like to drive.”
“I’m sure you do.” In her experience, men always did. “Has to be a guy control thing because as much as I like to be in control, my need doesn’t extend to motor vehicles.”
He held the door open, as she slid inside the car.
Remember, Lucy, she warned mentally, focusing on the luxurious seats and their new leather smell. He’s made his position very clear.
Yeah, yeah, I know, she answered. He’s off limits.
Still, she couldn’t stop the thrill that raced through her when she felt Jack’s hand on her knee after he’d climbed in beside her and asked, “Ready?”
The heat of it raced all the way to her insides, melting her resolve to keep him at a distance.
Lucy glanced over at him, meeting an intense gaze flashing humor and sincerity at the same time he squeezed her leg. The combined sensations created a wonderful feeling of acceptance, a sort of mental connection she’d never experienced before, even with Cassie. In that instant, something akin to understanding passed between them, providing one of those Kodak moments her grandmother had always gushed about before she died. It had only taken her fourteen years to finally figure out what she’d meant. If Lucy lived to be a hundred, she’d never forget this moment.
Chapter 7
The front door shut behind them with a firm click. Head held high, Lucy walked next to Jack down an elaborate stone walkway separating azaleas, rhododendrons, and dogwoods all in full bloom and bursting with purples, pinks, and blues.
“Well, that was a waste of time.” Her frustration mounting, Lucy stilled the urge to kick the tire on Jack’s BMW as he opened the passenger door. Twenty minutes spent driving to Marci Banks’ house and another twenty waiting. And for what? Only to be told the girl wasn’t home, along with a firm warning. If they wanted to talk to her, they should contact the Banks’ lawyer.
“I expected some resistance, not stonewalling,” Jack said, waiting for her to climb inside, “but I wouldn’t call it a complete waste of time.”
Lucy’s jaw dropped open. “Really?” She halted with the seat belt in her hand and looked up. “What would you call it?”
Jack flashed a smug smile and said as she clipped the belt into place, “Informative. And yes, Mrs. Banks is definitely hiding something. While you were schmoozing with the housekeeper, I was talking to the younger daughter.” He then slammed the door and ran around to the driver’s side.
So, that’s where he disappeared to right after she rang the bell, leaving her to greet the housekeeper alone. “I hope you discovered something useful because I need some good news about now.” Lucy hadn’t given Jack’s five-minute absence much thought, except to be pissed over his desertion when she most needed him, along with his status, to help get past the housekeeper’s vigilant guard. She should have known he had a reason. Jack, as she’d already discovered, never did anything without a reason. She filed that tidbit away as something to remember in future dealings with him.
“Our missing teen of interest is at the mall as we speak,” he said, after starting the car. “According to my source, she’s meeting a couple of her friends outside her favorite store. And I bet if we head that way now, we might spot her and catch her off guard.”
The housekeeper’s attitude was a token effort compared to her employer’s rudeness, once she’d finally decided to make an appearance. Marci’s mother clearly acted as if her money exempted her from using common courtesy. “How do you propose to do that when we’ve been warned off?”
Jack smiled and pulled away from the curb. “Easy. Marci’s not with her mother, so neither will expect us to try and talk to her. Not so soon.”
“Unless the mother calls and warns her,” Lucy interjected. There was no way it could be that easy when all teens had cell phones these days.
At the main road, Jack turned. “My money says they don’t communicate very well.”
“And you know this because…?” Her glare added to her snippy tone. Lucy wasn’t in the mood to be pleasant—not after having survived the unexpected confrontation with Elizabeth Banks, AKA Lizzie Kincaid—a bitch from her past. Lucy had thought herself long beyond those feelings of worthlessness that people like Lizzie brought out with her better-than-thou attitude, but the old feelings had resurfaced all too quickly.
“The house is too sterile.”
“That’s your best answer?” She rolled her eyes, exaggerating the gesture with a snort. What did he know? “I say we forget the mall and head straight to the Holloways’ house.”
Jack’s assessing gaze narrowed, locking on to hers for a moment before going back to the road. “You’re not very observant, are you?”
Gritting her teeth, Lucy tossed her hair behind her ear and bit back the retort on the tip of her tongue, saying instead, “I am too observant,” trying not to sound defensive. So what if after recognizing Marci’s mom she hadn’t paid as much attention to details as she should have? Who wouldn’t have been a little sidetracked? “You do realize that I’m a trained investigator.” Maybe she hadn’t been thinking like a pro, but Jack was just a politician’s lawyer who was too damned annoying at times. Like now, when he kept staring at her as if she were some puzzle to solve. Lucy was pretty sure Lizzie remembered her, given the contemptuous smile that crossed those perfectly made-up features. Oblivious to the undercurrents, Jack had offered his name and shaken the lady’s hand. Then he’d introduced her.
Stupidly, Lucy had held out a polite hand. When nothing had happened for long seconds, she’d glanced up, only to note Elizabeth’s deep scowl almost cracking her foundation. The bitch had continued staring at her outstretched hand without responding until Lucy, feeling like a total fool, had finally withdrawn it.
No love lost there. Lucy crossed her arms. On either side, she thought. Lizzie had made her teen years more miserable. And Jack? She’d bet a month’s rent he socialized with the woman, even though the witch was at least ten years older than him, which put her well into her forties, heading for fifty. Hell, they probably hung out at the same country club.
“Mama Banks is probably on the phone right now, warning Marci.” To keep her kid away from riffraff like her. After all, Lizzie had never hidden her disdain for Lucy, whom she’d blamed when her baby sister had disgraced the Kincaid name more than a decade earlier. A psychology major with a strong social conscience, Marissa Kincaid used to slum all the time with the desire to help, only to have her older sibling track her down and drag her back to the house on the hill to placate Daddy Kincaid. Funny, Lucy had forgotten about those nicer folks, people like Marissa and Cassie. Those who’d been—and still were—lovingly tolerant, who’d truly helped during her hopeless years. While some, namely Cardello and Lizzie, didn’t give a hoot about outcomes, other than to clear their dockets of cases or their lives of riffraff.
She kept the thoughts to herself, as Jack said with much conviction concerning her comment about Lizzie warning Marci, “No. She’s not the mothering type.”
When it was obvious he meant to say more, Lucy glanced at Jack and waited for him to expand on his observation. By now, he had just turned onto Highway 60, heading in the direction of the mall. Accelerating on the straightaway, he smiled, then acquiesced to her unspoken question with, “She kept us waiting far too long. Then when she finally did meet us, she appeared rushed, probably late for a tennis match or a lunch date.” He grunted. “She thinks the crack about the lawyer will scare us, and therefore we’re obviously not a threat, so she won’t bother with a phone call.”
Lucy nodded. “You might have a point.” She wasn’t worth Lizzie Banks’ time. Nor would the socialite consider Lucy a threat. “The reason she kept us waiting was a mind game and a silent message,” she said, remembering just how ruthless the woman could be. Lizzie had had an ex-boyfriend attack Lucy and warn her that if she didn’t stop associating with her baby sister, she’d end up dead. After that, Marissa stopped coming around, but she didn’t stop helping others. She now worked in Louisville as the manager of a homeless shel
ter for battered women with kids. Knowing Lizzie as Lucy did, she probably blamed her for her sister’s career path too.
What if the daughter was like the mother, in the apple never fell far from the tree kind of way? If so, they would cover their tracks. Rich people always knew how to twist the law in their favor, even when they were in the wrong. “I still say waylaying Marci’s just a big waste of time.” Time they didn’t have after wasting so much already. “You know that, don’t you?” When Jack only grunted, Lucy added, “We’ll learn more from Reecie’s mom.” Especially if Marci was somehow involved, which fit, considering all that had just taken place. So how did Marci and the judge tie in with Cassie’s disappearance? That was the million-dollar question.
Jack threw her a slanted glance. “Why not give the mall and Marci a shot?” He shrugged. “We might learn something useful.”
“Doubt it,” Lucy grumbled under her breath. “At this rate, I won’t find Cassie until it’s too late.”
Braking, Jack eased the car to the side of the road. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, glancing at her. “You tell me and I’ll do it. You want me to stake out the kid’s house and intercept her on the way back from the mall while you go and visit Reecie’s mom? That way we can accomplish more in the same time frame.”
Lucy shook her head. “No.” She was being overly critical, not to mention sensitive and impatient. Just the fact that he listened to her and was willing to compromise meant a lot. It took away the sting of remembering how feeling like nothing felt and in reality made her feel…well, almost special. “Let’s check out the mall and follow through on your idea.”
His engaging smile was back as he turned on his blinker, jammed the car into gear, and pulled back onto the highway. “It’s not a bad plan.”
As they sped toward the shopping center, Lucy turned to stare out the window. A red Camry, the only car on the road besides theirs, passed on the right.
Killer Romances Page 73