Better Watch Out

by Dani Sinclair

  She looked from one doubting face to another. “Well, somebody might have seen me getting out of the cab! That can’t be normal around here in the morning. You can check with the cab company to see when I got home. Besides, you can’t get around the fact that my car is missing.”

  Thompkins’s brow pleated more deeply. “Two doors down on the left, you say?”

  “Yes. The gray house with the black trim.”

  He grunted in J.D.’s direction. “I’ll go check it out. You staying?”

  “Yeah.” J.D. met her gaze. “I’m staying.”

  “MIND TELLING ME HOW you can get in so much trouble in just a matter of hours?”

  Anger, then hurt flashed in her expressive eyes, but Jackie had a tight lid on her emotions. “Practice,” she told him with droll humor.

  “Have you eaten?”

  She shuddered. “I’m not hungry.”

  “How about coffee?”

  “I’m out until I get to a grocery store. Which I guess is going to take a while, now that I don’t have a car. I don’t imagine too many rental places will rent a car to a woman on crutches. That reminds me, I need to call my insurance company.”

  “Jackie, what’s going on?”

  She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. She shook her head, her ponytail swinging from side to side. Her shiny hair was damp. Surely she hadn’t taken a shower on that leg.

  “I don’t blame you for questioning my sanity. I’m beginning to wonder about it myself. Larry must be behind this. You saw the card he sent. He wants to terrorize me. He’s crazy.”

  “Crazy enough to kill?”

  “Oh, yes.” She shuddered again. “I’m sure of it. He has a terrible temper.”

  J.D. hesitated. “Okay. Let’s say he is crazy. Let’s say he’s so nuts he killed an elf and left him in your house to scare you. Why the games with the corpse? Thompkins assures me you don’t just move a body around like a houseplant—his words, not mine. Is Zalewoski a big guy?”

  He watched the tiny ripple of fear course through her. “Yes. He’s big. And strong. He likes to lift weights.” Her eyes focused on his face, demanding his belief. “Moving a body around is exactly the sort of thing his sick mind might come up with.”

  “But would he kill someone to create a body?” J.D. persisted. “That’s premeditation, not anger.”

  She hesitated. “I…don’t know. Somehow, that feels wrong. I can see him killing someone who got in his way or thwarted him somehow, but…premeditation…he’s more an act-first-and-think-later sort of person.”

  She gnawed on her lower lip, drawing his focus to her pale complexion. Her quiet beauty had an almost translucent, fragile look to it this morning.

  “He doesn’t know anyone in Maryland,” she stated softly. “Neither of us had any connections here. That’s one reason I came here. I thought I’d be safe. I don’t keep in touch with anyone back home except Brenda. She’s my best friend and I promise you she wouldn’t tell Larry the time of day. She never did like him, even when we were dating and he was pretending to be Mr. Wonderful.”

  “But you think he’s here.”

  “You saw the Christmas card. He mailed it from downtown.”

  “Someone did,” he corrected.

  Her eyes clouded. “I suppose you think I sent it to myself.”

  “The thought did cross my mind.”

  Anger lit her face. “No matter what I say, I look foolish or like a liar. I’m not lying, J.D. And I’m not crazy. Not yet.”

  J.D. stood and prowled her kitchen. He couldn’t shake the conviction that she was telling the truth—from her point of view. And who else would have a motive to terrorize her besides her ex-husband?

  Thompkins returned looking morose.

  “So?” J.D. demanded.

  “Do you know any of your neighbors?” he asked Jackie instead of answering.

  “No. I haven’t been here long enough to meet anyone.”

  He nodded as if that was the answer he expected. “Two doors down on the left you have an elderly couple whose children live elsewhere. None of them was visiting this morning and Mr. Foster was still in bed when I knocked.”

  “The man was young, not elderly.”

  Thompkins nodded. “They have no idea who could have been in their yard. The Greysons live next door. They have three children, but the oldest one is ten. On the other side of the Fosters are a young couple—with no children—who travel extensively. Neither one is home at the moment.”

  “So, what you’re saying—” she began.

  “What I’m saying is you didn’t see a neighbor and none of your neighbors saw you or your car.”

  “I can’t believe this!”

  J.D. reached out to press against her shoulder when she would have risen from the table. “All that says is Jackie probably saw the guy who stole the car.”

  They stared at him.

  “Coincidence only goes so far,” he told Thompkins. “Even you have to admit something is going on here. Her car is missing. And I doubt she drove it away to create this illusion.”

  The policeman turned his frown on Jackie. “Describe the guy you saw again. Could it have been your exhusband?”

  “No.”

  If she was lying, she should have said yes.

  “He walked like a young person. You know, sort of loose-limbed? He was dressed in jeans and a black jacket. I didn’t notice if he wore shoes or boots.”

  “Hair color?”

  Jackie bit down on her lower lip. Her eyes stared past his shoulder as if conjuring the memory from the wall at his back. “Dark, probably more brown than black.”

  “Height? Weight?”

  “I don’t know, I wasn’t paying all that much attention. At a guess, I’d say five ten or eleven, maybe a hundred forty, hundred fifty pounds.” She sighed. “I know that isn’t any help. I’m sorry.”

  “Look, Ms. Neeley, I don’t know what’s going on here. I’m being totally honest with you now. This is a small town with a small police force. We’ll continue to check out your ex-husband and we’ll look for your car. If there’s a dead man inside, we’ll have some sort of starting place for an investigation. But in the meantime, there isn’t much we can do to protect you. My advice would be to call a friend—or better yet, a group of friends. Don’t stay alone. You’re vulnerable when you’re alone. Maybe you could consider a trip someplace for a few weeks.”

  Jackie shook her head, her expression stubbornly independent “He’s not going to make me run away again. I’m supposed to settle on this house today. Bessie is counting on me. I have a business to run and no money to take a trip. And I won’t risk putting a friend in possible jeopardy. Whether you believe me or not, a man is dead.”

  Thompkins scratched his jaw, but didn’t look surprised. “Okay then, this is how it will be. We’ll do frequent drive-bys. You see anything suspicious, you call it in. I’ll let dispatch know your calls are hot. They’ll send a unit right away. Your vehicle description is out there. We’ll have to wait for it to turn up. Then, we’ll see.” He looked at J.D. “There isn’t much more I can do.”

  J.D. nodded. “I know, Ben. I appreciate your help.”

  “So do I,” Jackie snapped.

  J.D. squeezed her shoulder and felt her quiver.

  “I’ll walk you out,” he offered. Jackie said nothing.

  The two men descended to the cruiser in silence.

  Thompkins raked him with a steady gaze. “How come you’re still involved here? Don’t tell me you’ve developed a hero complex.”

  “No, I—”

  “Good, because you’ve got two kids to worry about,” he pointed out. Then he stopped dead, staring at J.D. “You’re falling for her.”

  “What—?”

  “Don’t shake your head, J.D. Nobody goes this far out on a limb unless they’ve got a stake. And I admit, if she fixed herself up some, she’d be a nice-looking lady.”

  “Ben, get in the car.”

  “I’m going.” He
made no move to get inside.

  “Someone’s going to a lot of effort to make her look crazy, don’t you think?” J.D. asked.

  “Damned if I can tell. Like you, I’m beginning to wonder. I saw her face when she realized the car was gone. Honest to God, I thought she was going to pass out.”

  “Then you believe her?”

  “Hell, I don’t know what to believe any more than you do. But it’s like you said the night this all started. No way was she faking her reaction.” He shook his head. “Just be careful, J.D. If there really is a body, then someone is willing to kill to make this lady look crazy.” Ben slid inside and closed the door. He lowered the window and frowned up at J.D.

  “Watch yourself. Don’t take chances.”

  “I won’t,” J.D. promised. As the car pulled into the street, he remembered what he’d wanted to ask Thompkins.

  This morning he’d read and reread the small article on the death of Oggie Korbel. The account implied the youth’s murder was drug or gang related. Did the police know about the tenuous connection between Jackie and the dead man? The Lieberman kid had also died. Burned to death in a car accident. So many crazy events swirled around Jackie and this house.

  He looked at the silent structure. Unimposing, taken by itself, but he decided it would be real easy to hate this” place. What secrets did it hide?

  That damn lock on her basement door kept gnawing at him. It was as out of place as all the other cockamamy things around here.

  J.D. ran through a mental list of his appointments today and decided there was nothing that couldn’t wait. He couldn’t leave Jackie alone after what had happened.

  Hell, at least he should be honest. He didn’t want to leave Jackie alone, and not just because someone had stolen her car or because he’d acted like a jerk after that incident at the mall. He wanted to know the real woman who hid behind baggy clothes and fake glasses. He wanted to know if their strange attraction was merely that or if something deeper, more important was going on here.

  Don’t take chances, Thompkins had warned him.

  J.D. pictured his children chatting freely over dinner last night, happily relating stories about the important things happening in their young lives. And Jackie, smiling and listening. Really listening to them, her face soft and beautiful, animated and filled with caring.

  Life entailed all sorts of risks. Jackie was a chance worth taking.

  J.D. mounted the porch steps and entered the front door. He heard Jackie talking on the telephone in the kitchen.

  “Okay. No, that will be fine. Yes. Of course. All right, then.”

  “Problem?”

  She replaced the receiver. “More like a reprieve. They had to postpone today’s settlement. We’ve rescheduled for next Monday.”

  “I know I’m probably out of line here, but I don’t think buying this place is a good idea.”

  Her eyes flashed. “I’m already committed.”

  “Not until you sign the papers.”

  “I promised Bessie.”

  “She can find another buyer.”

  Her gaze slid away from his.

  “She can’t find another buyer?”

  Jackie frowned. “I’m sure she could, but she’s my friend and I promised.”

  The phrase, “my friend,” had a hollow sound to it. Something was wrong. Come to think of it, why had she left Bessie’s so early this morning? Why hadn’t Bessie or Frank brought her home?

  “You take friendship seriously, don’t you?” he asked gently.

  Her eyes flashed. “Of course. Friendship is important.”

  “Does Bessie take it the same way?”

  Bingo. Her troubled expression told him something had happened. Something that had put that all-important friendship at risk.

  “What happened this morning, Jackie? How come you came home so early—and alone?”

  “It’s not important,” she mumbled.

  “I think it may be very important.”

  “Why? What difference does it make to you?”

  J.D. picked his next words carefully. “Because I’d like to be your friend, too. I think you can use another friend, Jackie.”

  She turned to stare out the window. Her hands gripped the crutches like a lifeline. He waited several seconds.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  Her back tensed. She didn’t turn around. J.D. waited silently, hoping she’d decide to trust him.

  “Bessie lied to me.”

  The words were so softly uttered, it took a moment for them to register. “What about?”

  Jackie turned back toward him. Pain shadowed her eyes. “All along she told me she didn’t have the key to the basement lock, but I found it in her kitchen this morning with all her other spare keys. Why would she lie to me, J.D.?”

  Her eyes pleaded for an answer, but he didn’t have one to give her. “Does she know you found the key?”

  “No. I…It’s probably silly, but I felt betrayed. I mean, why would she lie? I needed to think, so I came here.”

  She looked deceptively fragile, but J.D. knew she wasn’t. Only a strong woman could survive in the middle of this nightmare. He crossed the room until he stood within inches of her.

  “What conclusions did you draw?”

  Awareness glinted in her eyes. She tilted her head up and her lips parted. He had no business focusing on those lips. Definitely, no business remembering how soft and utterly kissable they were. Still, when she looked at him like that it was hard to think about anything else.

  “Don’t kiss me again,” she whispered.

  He cupped her face, feeling the satiny texture of her skin against his palms. “Why not?”

  “Because.”

  “Not good enough,” he told her. His mouth descended for another taste of her incredible softness.

  Chapter Eight

  She pulled back, her vulnerable eyes misted by desire. “We shouldn’t do this.”

  Her mouth drew him inexorably back to her lips. He kissed her again more slowly, savoring the taste and texture of her, feeling the pliant sway of her body toward his. “Why not?” he whispered against her ear.

  She turned her head in search of his mouth and her lips clung to his. She wanted him. The heady knowledge surged like a drug through his system, causing his body to harden against her slender form.

  “I can’t think when you kiss me,” she murmured.

  He kissed her again, this time tracing the fullness of her lips with his tongue. When her lips parted, J.D. refrained from accepting her unspoken invitation to delve inside the heat of her mouth. Instead he drew back a little, trying to control the escalating passion inside him.

  “I can’t think when I kiss you, either,” he agreed. He pressed his lower body against hers.

  Her mouth rounded in surprise and her eyes widened as she stared at him, defenseless in her own naked need.

  J.D. groaned. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like you’re starving and I’m a feast.”

  His mouth closed over hers completely and his tongue began the ritual mating with hers. Jackie arched upward.

  Kisses simply weren’t enough. Gently, he rubbed her breasts through the sweatshirt. Her nipples puckered, straining for his caress. He pushed up the sweatshirt, sliding his hand across the soft bare skin of her abdomen, and she trembled sweetly.

  Her right crutch clattered to the floor.

  J.D. paused, shaken by the strength of his desire. Jackie stared up at him, her eyes dark with heady passion. He inhaled deeply, slipping his arms around her to hold her tightly against his chest.

  When she attempted to withdraw, he released her, bending to pick up her crutch. It was better this way, he told himself. Another couple of minutes and he would have taken her right there against the wall.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, hearing the husky edge to his voice. “I’ve never lost control like that before.”

  “You’re apologizing?” Ja
ckie stared at him, annoyance mingled with traces of unfilled desire. “I don’t know whether to be hurt or insulted.”

  He cupped the side of her face with aching tenderness. “When we make love, Jackie, it won’t be against a kitchen wall. You’re much too special for a quick tumble.”

  Her eyes widened and her lips parted, but no words came out. He felt the same way—astonished by the unexpected need that made him want to carry her upstairs and finish what they had started.

  “Come on,” he said softly. “We need to go.”

  “Go where?”

  “I need some breakfast. We’ll go to the pancake place over near the high school. Then we’ll decide what to do.”

  He could almost follow the tumble of thoughts in her changing expressions. “I have to check on my shop,” she protested finally.

  “We’ll do that, too.”

  She hesitated, her uncertainty palpable.

  “Come on, Jackie. You don’t want to be alone right now. And if we stay here, I’m going to make love to you.”

  Her tiny gasp made him want to smile, but she recovered quickly.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you have an arrogant, controlling streak?”

  He did smile then. She was so incredibly tempting. “Are you going to deny what just happened?”

  “A kiss,” she insisted. “It was just a kiss.”

  “Just a kiss?” He stepped closer. Watched her eyes widen warily. The glimmer of answering excitement was all he needed to see.

  Hard and hungry, his mouth descended on hers without restraint. He kissed her thoroughly, with a desperation that surprised even him. Wanting her was a fever that threatened to rage past his control.

  She quivered beneath the onslaught, then opened for him, surging against his body with equal fervor.

  Once again, her crutch struck the floor, acting as a brake on his raging hormones. She clung to him, breathing hard, her right arm wrapped around his neck, her expression startled, yet filled with desire.

  He hugged her to his chest, inhaling the subtle scent of her shampoo while he tried to catch his breath. When she squirmed, he released her and bent to retrieve her crutch. His smile felt crooked as he handed her the piece of wood. “You do seem to have a problem holding on to these.”