Uncovered: A Hearts of the South story

by Linda Winfree

  “Don’t think the shoe down there is hers, though. It’s a man’s shoe, size ten.” He glanced at the tape measure stretched alongside the body bag, indicating the skeleton had a height of approximately five and a half feet. “She’s too small for that.”

  “It could be related, if we can date it. Maybe it’s been with her the whole time.”

  “We can definitely work that angle, especially if there’s anything to help us place her within a time period. Ford did that for us with a body we had a couple of years ago. The guy had a metal screw in his leg that wasn’t used medically anymore, helped us narrow the time period.”

  “Then we can contact the rental agency, get a list of their tenants.”

  “Shit, that list will be huge. But you’re right. It sounds like the smartest place to start.” He looked up at her. “I’ll start going through old missing-persons reports too, but the records from Hollowell’s time in office are a mess. Not sure if we even have everything—”

  “Investigator Calvert?” A GBI crime scene tech appeared in the doorway. “Could I speak to you a second?”

  “Excuse me.” He rose and followed the agent from the room.

  With him gone and only the soft buzz of the technicians talking, Madeline studied the remains, the skull grinning at her as though keeping a gruesome secret.

  “Who are you, sweetheart?” she whispered. “What happened to you? And why the hell are you here?”

  Chapter Five

  Tick was late, after he’d promised Caitlin he wouldn’t be. To top that off, he’d tried calling her and kept getting the voice mail, both on their landline and her cell. He was pretty sure if they’d had a dog, he’d have been sharing its house.

  The sound of her voice trailed down the stairs, and he took them two treads at a time.

  He found them in the upstairs bathroom, painted blue and white and decorated with prints of old sailing ships, Caitlin kneeling by the tub, Lee chortling and cooing while kicking water everywhere. Warmth and home and love curled through him. Even if she was pissed at him, he couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be.

  “Hey.” Dropping to the braided rug, he joined them. He tickled Lee’s pudgy tummy and earned a big toothless grin in return.

  “I thought I heard you come in.” One hand supporting the baby’s head, she leaned sideways to brush her lips across his. “I owe you an apology for this morning. I was horrible to you. I was frustrated and I didn’t mean—”

  He caught the words with his swift kiss and reached to take the baby wash from her. “It’s all right.”

  Scooping warm water over the baby, he lathered the small, wriggly body. “Shoot, son, you’re as slippery as Daddy’s alligators.”

  “He’s usually as grouchy as one of them too,” Caitlin said softly and moved to help rinse. She lifted the dripping baby from the tub and Tick wrapped a soft towel around him before gathering him close. With a smile, Caitlin feathered her fingers over Lee’s head. “But he’s been in a good mood today.”

  “I hate I missed that.” Tick kissed his temple, inhaling the clean baby scent. “Has he eaten?”

  A sweet smile flirted with Caitlin’s lips. “Just before his bath. He’s getting sleepy.”

  Sure enough, when Tick shifted Lee in his arms, the little lids were already drooping. “Come on, Leebo,” he whispered into the wispy hair atop the warm little head, “Daddy’ll put you to bed.”

  He carried his son through to the nursery, keeping up a steady stream of talk while he diapered, lotioned and dressed him. The quiet sounds of Caitlin clearing things away in the bathroom filtered down the hall, and she appeared in the doorway as Tick tucked a thin blanket around the baby.

  “He’s almost out.” Tick slanted a smile at Caitlin. Water spots dappled the fitted white T-shirt she wore over pink yoga pants. She didn’t return his smile, but watched him with a soft, serious gaze, and his stomach dropped. Hell, maybe he was in the doghouse after all.

  He joined her at the doorway and she stepped backward into the dim hall, her eyes glittering.

  A frown pulled at his brows. “What is it, Cait?”

  She leaned against the opposite wall. “I miss you.”

  Her fierce whisper sank into his consciousness, and his lashes fell, relief crashing through him. A low, rough laugh escaped him.

  “It’s not funny, Tick.” Her husky murmur caught on his name. “You’re either pulling extra hours with the department, filling in, or you’re on that damn farm. When you are here, you’re not here. You don’t talk to me, you go out of your way not to touch me, and do you know how long it’s been since we made love? I miss you and I want you back, damn it.”

  He crossed the hall, grasped her chin and kissed her. Hard. Fully. Completely. The way he’d wanted to for weeks.

  “Want an exact count on how long it’s been?” he murmured against her mouth. “I can give you one.”

  “No.” She gently sucked his lower lip between her own and he groaned. “I want you.”

  “You realize it’ll be fast the first time, right?”

  “Who cares?” She wound her arms around his neck and pressed closer. “Fast is good. We can be slow the second time.”

  “And the third.” Bending to slip an arm beneath her knees, he swung her into his arms and headed for the stairs. “Maybe the fourth.”

  “Confident there, aren’t you, Lamar Eugene?” She laughed into his throat. “Oh my God, I love when you do the Rhett Butler thing.”

  “Yeah?” He almost missed a step as she nibbled the side of his neck. Laughter and arousal warred in him. “Keep doing that, precious, and we won’t make it to the bed.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “Considering how long I’ve waited to make love to you again, I’d like to do it right.” He skirted Lee’s baby swing in the living room and narrowly avoided tripping over the car seat.

  “I’ve never known you to do it wrong, Calvert.”

  “You’re good for my ego, Falconetti.” He dropped her on their bed and knelt over her, staring into eyes dark with desire. “Lord, I love you.”

  She touched a fingertip to the middle of his bottom lip and trailed it along the line of his throat. “I love you too.” An impish smile curved her mouth. “Now get naked and ravish me before your son wakes up.”

  “Gladly.” He pulled his shirt over his head before he reached for hers. Leaning forward, he kissed her, delving into the silky moistness of her mouth. He palmed the outer curves of her breasts, a little fuller and lusher now that she nursed their child. “You’re beautiful.”

  Her fingers were all over him, from his shoulders to his pecs, down his abdomen and up his spine. He groaned and skimmed the loose pants from her hips, taking her brief panties with them.

  She reached for his belt. “You haven’t even taken your gear off.”

  “Don’t care. Get it later.” He dipped a hand between her legs, her sudden gasp kicking his own arousal up a notch. He slipped one, then a second finger inside her. “Holy hell, you’re wet.”

  “You do that to me. Hurry, Tick.” She shoved his khakis and boxer-briefs down his thighs. Cuffs rattled, keys jingled and his holster thudded on the floor as he kicked free of the pants. He lowered his head to nuzzle at the side of her neck, just below her ear at the sensitive spot he knew set her on fire every time, and circled his fingers, brushing his thumb across her clitoris. On a muffled moan, she parted her thighs and pulled him down, arching into him. “Please.”

  The phone rang, its shrill tone tearing through the thick desire in the room. She tensed beneath him.

  “We’re not answering that,” he said, slumping, the mood already slipping away. He rested his elbows on the bed, his brow pressed to her sternum.

  “We have to. You’re on call, remember?” She stretched to grab the offending object from the nightstand. Tick rolled away to stare at the ceiling. Whatever it was, it had better be damned good. “Hello? Yes. He’s here. Hold, please.”

>   One hand over the receiver, she met his gaze. “It’s for you. An Allison Barnett.”

  He bit off an oath and reached for the phone. What the hell did Allison want, anyway? He cleared his throat and tried to make sure his voice was even. “Hello?”

  “Tick, hey, I’m so sorry to bother you at home.” Remorse coated her breathy voice, and he closed his eyes, a pang of regret over his anger pricking at him. The woman had come face to face with a skeleton under her house. Being freaked out was probably normal under those circumstances.

  “It’s okay.” He sat up and caught Caitlin’s lifted eyebrow at his words. He shook his head and mouthed “work” at her. “What can I do for you?”

  “I really hate to ask but I need to get in the house. Some of Willow’s school stuff is in her room and I don’t want her to be without it. She’s still adjusting to being in a new school and she’s so conscientious. Not having her books would be terrible for her.” She paused a half second and he swallowed a curse. “Is there any way you could…”

  “I’ll meet you there in about fifteen minutes.”

  “That’s fabulous. Thank you so much. I’ll see you in a little while.”

  The phone went dead.

  “Damn it.” He dropped it on the bed and bent to gather his clothes. “I won’t be gone long. I promise.”

  “Who was that?” Caitlin reached for her T-shirt, and he tugged it out of her hands.

  “No way. You stay here, just like you are and wait for me to get back.”

  She pulled the garment free. He sighed as she slid it on. “So where are you going?”

  “Her house is a closed crime scene, and she needs her daughter’s school books. I have the damn keys to the house.” He stepped into his slacks and tucked his shirt in.

  “Allison Barnett?” Caitlin frowned as she slipped on her yoga pants again. “I’ve heard that name before.”

  Foreboding slithered down his spine. “I doubt it. She’s been gone from here forever.”

  Caitlin pulled up one knee and rested her chin on it, her brow pursed in concentration. Tick swallowed a groan. As good as she was with making connections, he was screwed.

  “Allison…oh my God.” A note of glee entered her voice, and he cringed. She covered her mouth and stared at him, her eyes sparkling. “She’s the cheerleader, isn’t she?”

  He tried to head it off. “Cait—”

  “She is. This is the one you lost your virginity with.” She laughed, the hand over her mouth doing little to muffle the sound. “In the football equipment room.”

  He was going to kill Del. As his brother was the only other person who knew about that teenage indiscretion besides him and Allison, Del was the only way Caitlin would have known.

  Hands at his hips, Tick gazed down at his wife. An answering smile tugged at his own mouth. “Are you finished?”

  “You’re leaving me to meet the woman who took your innocence.” Caitlin lay back on their bed, a hand over her chest as she tried to control the giggles. “Should I be threatened?”

  He grasped one gorgeous ankle and tugged her toward him before leaning down to kiss her. “No. Not in the least.”

  Unable to resist the dark sweetness of her mouth, he deepened the kiss until she moaned into his. He pulled away with a grin. “Now hold that thought until I get back. I won’t be long.”

  Twelve minutes later he stood in front of the house on Miller Court, hands in his jacket pockets, waiting on Allison. Damn, it was cold tonight. The weather had been on a typical southwest Georgia roller coaster lately—unseasonably warm for a day or so, then dipping witch’s-titty low just to bounce back up.

  He could think of things he’d rather be doing than standing around in the cold in what had always been one of the less favorable areas of town. The small brick ranch houses sat close together with cramped postage-stamp yards. How had that girl rotted beneath this house without anyone noticing the smell?

  And who was she? The familiar need to track down the answers took root in him again. He didn’t like unfinished business or unanswered questions, never had.

  Headlights swept the houses as a small car turned onto the narrow street. The Honda braked with a soft metallic whine behind his truck. The interior light bounced off Allison’s blonde hair. She hurried up the walk, pulling her thin sweater about her.

  “Hi.” She smiled as she reached him, laying a light hand on his biceps. “Thank you so much for doing this.”

  “No problem.” He would have to repent for that lie later. Jingling the house keys, he bounded up the steps. The sooner he took care of this, the sooner he could be back at home, back in bed, wrapped up in Caitlin.

  The lock stuck and he jiggled the key, pulling the door toward him as did so. “How old is your daughter?”

  “She’s thirteen.”

  “Thirteen?” He glanced over his shoulder at her as the door swung inward. “Lord, I can’t imagine you with a teenager.”

  She laughed, the airy sound from their youth a little drier and harsher now. “Willow is my baby. Tick, my oldest is seventeen.”

  “Wow.” He shook his head and stepped back to let her precede him. “That’s wild.”

  “Yeah.” Some indefinable sadness filtered into her voice and she stopped in the hallway, shivering, moving a step closer to him. “The house feels different now.”

  He could understand that. Finding a corpse, even one long dead, under her home had to be a bitch.

  “It shouldn’t take me but a couple of minutes to get Willow’s things.” She pressed the light switch near the hallway door. Nothing happened. She flipped it a couple more times, frustration drawing her mouth into a tight line. “Darn it. The wiring in this place is a mess. I bet the fuses are blowing again. I kept having to stumble to the electrical box in the utility room all last week.”

  He pulled his Maglite from its pouch and shone the bright beam down the narrow hall. “Better?”

  She flashed a smile in his direction. “Thanks.”

  Holding the sturdy flashlight aloft, he followed her. In the back bedroom, she gathered an armful of textbooks and added a navy fleece and stuffed unicorn to the mix. Edgy impatience crawled down his spine. Sweet Jesus, she was taking her sweet time, picking up the kid’s stuff.

  Catching his eye, she shrugged. “She’s had it forever and she’s lost without it.”

  “Anything else you need while we’re here?” His phone buzzed against his waist, and he pulled it free, flipped it open to read the naughty little text message from his wife.

  Holy…

  Allison had to hurry it up.

  “I think this is…oh, wait.” Juggling the books, she pointed back down the hall. “I can’t remember if I grabbed pajamas earlier. Would you mind pulling some from my top drawer?”

  Impatience burned under his skin, and he smothered it. This mess wasn’t her fault, and the discovery of the remains had thrown her life into uproar enough. The light filtering in from the mercury lamp over the backyard kept him from stubbing his toes on the massive cannonball bed that dominated the room. He pulled the dresser drawer open and snagged the sleep set lying on top.

  She waited at the doorway and he reached for some of what she held. “Here, let me take the books.”

  “Thanks.” She handed them over. With her arms full, they got a little tangled, and it took him a second to extricate his wrist from her hand.

  He opened his mouth to ask if there were any more needed items and closed it. He was ready to get home, damn it.

  His phone vibrated along his belt again. He tilted his head toward the front door. “It’s getting late. Let’s get you out of here.”

  Her laugh trilled as she picked her way through the dark living room. “It’s barely eight thirty.”

  Shit. They’d put Lee down at…aw, he was screwed. Or rather, he wouldn’t be if he didn’t get Allison the hell out of here, fast.

  “I should really buy you a coffee or something.” Allison stopped at the bottom of the steps
while he secured the house. “I think this counts as above and beyond the call of duty.”

  She had no freakin’ idea.

  He had to wait for her to unlock the damn car before he could settle the textbooks on the backseat. She tossed the other items on the cluttered passenger seat and turned to look at him, her arm resting along the open door.

  “Well, thank you again. You’ll call me, won’t you, when we can come back?”

  “Sure.” He flipped through his keys. “Good night.”

  “Good night, Tick.”

  He made sure her car started and she pulled away before he headed in the other direction. Luckily, he caught all the traffic lights on green and ten minutes later pulled to a stop in the driveway. The back door opened as he climbed from the truck. Caitlin leaned against the porch column.

  Tick strode up the brick walkway. “Tell me he’s still asleep.”

  “Out like a light.” She shook her head, shivering a little in the cold air. “What took you so long?”

  “You don’t want to know.” He bounded up the steps, pausing just long enough to sweep her up into his arms. Inside, he pushed the door closed with his foot.

  On a soft laugh, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed closer. “Well hello, Rhett.”

  An answering chuckle rumbled in his chest as he carried her through to their bed. “Come on, Scarlett, and I’ll show you just how much I do give a damn.”

  Madeline parked next to Ash’s decrepit Ford, nerves she hadn’t felt since she was a fifteen-year-old girl fluttering low in her belly. She was late—the crime scene investigation had dragged way past the end of her shift. She’d called Ash to cancel dinner with a distinct sense of regret. He’d surprised her by telling her to come when she was ready; dinner would wait.

  She couldn’t remember the last time a man had been so understanding about the demands of her career.

  Um, probably because that had been never?

  Sucking in a deep breath, she swung out of the car. It was cold, her exhale coming in a puff of steam, and she tightened her blazer about her as she approached the porch.