“He likes you,” Ash murmured, drowsily.
Madeline moved her fingers over his hand, a soft, circular caress. “What?”
“He’s never that nice.”
“I doubt that.”
“He’s a shark.” The words slurred a little, his lids fluttering. “Makes Vince…look like pussycat. Ask Cait.”
“I’ll do that.” She pushed the button to kill the television and reached up to turn off the bright light over the bed. The room plunged into semi-dimness. “Now go to sleep.”
He made a soft noise in his throat and within moments, the sound of his breathing told her the drugs and pained exhaustion had pulled him into slumber. She stood over him, studying the lines of his face.
His brother liked her? That was…hard to believe. Likable wasn’t a descriptive word she’d choose for herself.
She sighed. Did it matter, anyway, whether the brother liked her? They weren’t a long-term deal.
Laying Ash’s hand down with exquisite care, she crossed to the chair under the window. She picked up the magazine Vince had abandoned and flipped through it, not seeing the colorful ads or registering the headlines. After a moment, she slapped the magazine down on her lap and stared across at Ash’s sleeping face.
He thought his brother liked her. With that came the weird flush of pleasure again, almost like the one she got when Tick acted like she was a normal human being. That reaction didn’t make sense either.
She did not care what Tick Calvert thought of her. Rob Hardison either.
With the magazine discarded, she pulled her knees to her chin and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on top. Caring what people thought was another of those slippery slopes, and that particular slope she didn’t plan to fall down.
Chapter Seventeen
“Holton, wake up.”
The whisper finally registered in her consciousness and Madeline opened her eyes to find Tick standing over her. He crooked a finger and tilted his head toward the door. With a quick glance at Ash’s sleeping face, she unfolded cramped legs and followed him.
“How is he?” Tick asked in a low voice as she met him in the hall.
“He seems to be resting. He’s been asleep since his brother left.” She checked her watch. “That was over an hour ago.”
“Grabbed you a sub from the Big Dawg.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the waiting room. “And when I went by the office to get our files, the rental agency had faxed over the tenant list. Damn thing is more than ten pages long.”
With the turnover that house always had, she wasn’t surprised. She rubbed sleepy eyes, still feeling like she was slogging through swamp mud, and followed him to the deserted waiting area.
Her sandwich and a soda waited on the low table before the vinyl couch and chairs. Tick dropped into the chair nearest the door; she took the couch. While she unwrapped her sub, he laid out the rental list, preliminary autopsy report and his initial notes on the crime scene at the Miller Court house.
The rich smell of ham and melted cheese made her stomach rumble with the realization it hadn’t been fed all day. Lifting the bun, she picked off the lettuce. “Thanks for this.”
“Huh?” He looked up from the rental list with a distracted expression. “Yeah, sure.”
“So what are you looking for?” she asked around a bite of yeasty bread, spicy pepperoni and Italian dressing.
His gaze was back on the list. “Didn’t your mama teach you not to talk with your mouth full?”
“Calvert.”
“Trying to see who we might be able to eliminate.” He paged through the list. “Maybe everybody in the last ten years? That gives us, what? Eight years in which she could have—”
“Less than that.” She licked a bit of mayonnaise off the end of her thumb. “Ford said she was fifteen to eighteen. Kelly was sixteen, nearly seventeen when she ran away. That gives you the year, maybe two after I graduated from high school.”
“Oh, hell yeah.” He grinned, laying several sheets of paper aside. “That gives us…ten tenants. Shit, how can a house turn over that many times in a two year period?”
Madeline shrugged. “Maybe because it’s the town rental whore? Kinda like your girlfriend.”
“What are you talking about?” He pulled his pen from his pocket and drew a line across the paper.
“Do you really think just because Allison was your first that you were hers?”
“What makes you think she was my first?” He returned the pen to his pocket. “And stop referring to her as my girlfriend, would you?”
Madeline snorted and settled back with her sandwich. “Like everybody doesn’t know she was your first. Girls talk, remember?”
He looked up at that. “I don’t want to know.”
She took a huge bite of the sub and mumbled around it, “Probably not.”
“I wonder if any of these people are still local. I don’t recognize any names. Take forever to run them all.” His attention dropped to the paper, and she gave in to the devil of temptation.
“I’ll let you take care of it. I heard once you were really fast.”
Irritated dark eyes lifted to hers in slow motion. “Madeline, I swear to God—”
“It’s a sin to swear or didn’t you pay attention in Sunday School?”
“Are you done?”
She surveyed the half a sandwich she had left. “Almost.”
“We need to run Kelly’s Social Security number. If she ever used it during that year she was gone, it might narrow our timeline further.”
“Sounds like a plan.” The food was relaxing her. God, she’d been hungry. She reached for the soda. “So I heard Cook say your girlfriend had called the station looking for you, three times. What did she want?”
“She is not my girlfriend.” The words sounded like they were pushed between gritted teeth. “I don’t know what she wanted. It’s not like I called her back.”
“Wow. She snapped her fingers, and you didn’t come running. That’s going to piss her off.”
“You’re obnoxious, you know that?”
“It’s a gift.” She tried to keep a straight face, the day’s stress wanting to bubble into completely inappropriate laughter. “You know, it’s a good thing your kid doesn’t have a pet bunny. Allison’s just the type to boil it.”
An unwilling smile quirked at his mouth. “Yeah, and my wife would kick her ever-lovin’ ass too.”
Madeline laid a hand over her stomach. “You don’t know how I would love to see that. Hell, I’d pay money.”
He sobered, gaze tracking to the autopsy report. Leaning forward, he lifted it and frowned. “You don’t think…”
“What?” Instincts honed by years on the job tingled to life. He had that look, the same one Jack used to get, when they were tossing around ideas. Weird how she could read Calvert after five days almost as well as she’d been able to read her partner after seven years together.
“Is she the type to do more than boil a bunny?” Tick’s drawl pulled her away from the raw memory.
“Murder?” Madeline frowned. “Maybe? I mean, she could be ruthless. She didn’t cringe at setting up that ballpark gangbang to get Kelly out of her way, but killing someone? I don’t know.”
He scratched his jaw, stubble rasping. “Wish I could put Cait in a room with her for a little while, let her run a preliminary profile on Allison’s personality.”
“Oh, that would be fun.”
He ignored her, eyes narrowed, still rubbing his fingers across his jaw. “I wonder…”
“What?”
“Allison doesn’t know we know it’s Kelly. For all she knows that body could belong to any number of cold cases.”
“Yeah. And?”
“Cait’s got a couple of serials that went cold and were never solved. Hell, she worked a case here with multiple victims.” A slow grin slid over his face. “Might make sense that she’d check out these remains, want to talk with the person who discovered
them.”
Madeline laughed. “That is…almost brilliant, Calvert.”
Still grinning, he lifted his brows, eyes glittering. Heart pounding, Madeline grinned back. “I want to watch.”
With the slow burn of investigative adrenaline burning in his gut, Tick took the stairs two at a time. The house was quiet and he’d checked all the downstairs room; Caitlin had to be in the nursery. He knew better than to call her name. If she’d gotten Lee down and he woke him up, there’d be hell to pay.
He paused in the doorway. Sure enough, she curled into the squashy armchair, nursing the baby. He sucked in a breath, a little winded. “Hey.”
“How’s Ash?”
“Resting. Doctor’s hoping the swelling will be down enough tomorrow to repair his knee.” He crossed to sit on the ottoman before the chair. Leaning forward, he brushed a kiss over Lee’s brow, then dropped another on the slope of her breast.
She tangled her fingers in his hair and lifted his head to her mouth. “Behave.”
He smiled against the corner of her lips. “You weren’t saying that last night.”
“Tick…”
“Did he have a better day?” He cupped the baby’s head and watched heavy little lids lower.
“Much.” She shifted to the side and patted the chair, which he’d picked out specifically because it was big enough for two. “Come sit with us.”
He eased next to her and wrapped an arm around her. Her head brushed his chin, and he smiled against her hair. “I want you to do something for me.”
Her quiet laugh trilled over him, and she laid her free hand on his thigh. “Where have I heard that before?”
“Get your mind out of the bedroom.” He nuzzled her temple. “If I arranged for you to interview Allison Barnett, do you think you could get a read on her?”
She turned her head to meet his gaze. “I don’t think you want me in a room alone with her.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
“Listen.” He took her hand. “I need to know if you think she’s capable of murder.”
“Sweet thing, after seeing the way she looked when I kissed you? I don’t have to interview her. If she could have, she’d have killed me on the spot.”
He kissed her knuckles. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”
“You think I’m joking? I’m absolutely serious. I’ve interviewed multiple murderers who looked less able to kill.”
She rested her head against his shoulder. Lee bounced a foot, jabbing Tick’s abdomen. He caught the tiny foot in his palm.
“If I interview her before you have reason to suspect her, McMillian would have a fit. He wouldn’t like that coming out in court.”
He grimaced at the mention of the local DA. “True.”
Quiet settled around them, broken only by Lee’s soft snuffles and muffled gulps. Tick feathered his thumb over the small toes. Caitlin’s fingers tapped his thigh in a soft rhythm.
“Did you know her first husband died?”
“What?” Surprise jolted him, and he looked down at her. “No. When it was over, it was over. I didn’t keep up with her.”
“Heart attack.” She shifted, twining her foot around his calf. “He’d just turned twenty-one. She got the small life-insurance policy he had, twenty-five thousand dollars. Married husband number two within six months.”
“Huh.”
“Husband number two was a member of the Southern Brotherhood.”
That caught his attention. During his days with the FBI’s Organized Crime Division, he’d followed the activities of the fringe biker group, an offshoot of one of the four major outlaw motorcycle groups the Bureau monitored regularly. “Really.”
“Yes.” A small self-satisfied moue pursed her lips. “That twenty-five grand was gone in months. She’s worked and supported the family—she has a daughter from both marriages. After the divorce, she got sole custody. Husband number two is in Reidsville, doing ten years for various nefarious activities.”
“You’ve been busy today, haven’t you?” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “You didn’t use Bureau resources to check her out, did you?”
“Of course not. I used Falcon Security resources and convinced Tony he wanted to do this for me as quickly as possible. I don’t trust her, and I wanted to know everything I could. I’m telling you, Tick, she’s trouble.”
***
“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Madeline’s soft touch drifted over his cheek, and Ash opened his eyes to a wash of early-morning sunlight. She smiled down at him, her eyes soft and clear.
His mouth felt weird, tasted worse, and he swallowed, muffled pain arching along his nerves with the action. “Hey.”
“Should I even ask how you feel?”
“Sore all over.” The agony lay beneath the drugs, just out of reach. Each muscle felt like pulled taffy, wound back around his body too tight. He let his eyes trail over her—tousled hair, wrinkled T-shirt. “Did you stay here all night?”
“I did.” She stroked his jaw, avoiding the stitches below his lips. “Tick and I worked in the waiting area for a while last night, then I slept in the foldout chair.”
Did she realize what that implied? He held her eyes. “Thank you.”
The corners of her mouth hitched higher. “I told you I wouldn’t leave.”
A wave of almost-pain swept up his leg from his knee. He closed his eyes. Thank God for meds. “Rob here?”
“I haven’t seen him yet.” She stroked his hair, as if she realized he hurt and wanted to take it away. “But it’s early.”
He nodded and exhaled, the throbbing receding some.
“I am going to bail on you for a little while today.” Her fingers continued their soothing rhythm. “We have a couple of leads to follow up.”
Another nod as the nausea of pain settled deep in his gut, taking his breath for a moment. Man, he would be glad when this was all over. Hurting and being laid up had never been his idea of a good time.
“Um, Ash?” Her touch paused at his forehead. He looked up in time to see uncertainty flash over her face. “Do you mind if I go out to your place to shower and change? My things are there, and I kind of had it out with Mama yesterday. I don’t think I want to go back home for a while.”
The implications of her preferring his home to her own were staggering. He moved his hand, caught hers, and smiled. “Yeah, babe, that’s good.”
“There you go, thinking I’ll let you call me babe just because you’re laid up…”
He squeezed her fingers. “Go on. Do what you need to do. I’ll see you later.”
Leaning over, she whispered her lips across his. “Be good. I’ll be back this afternoon.”
Moments later the door clicked shut behind her. He stared at the ceiling. The empty hours of the day without her stretched before him.
Damn it, Tick was right. His ass was whipped already.
Tick slammed the door on his truck and jogged toward the steps. He’d forgotten his gloves, and his hands tingled in the icy breeze. Damn, he’d be ready when spring got here.
“Tick!”
The familiar voice brought him up short and sent a different type of ice down his spine in a weird frisson, a lot like the elemental shudder of running across a moccasin while trekking through the woods by the river. He tensed and turned. Couldn’t avoid her forever. Tugging his cap lower over his eyes, he waited for Allison to join him. She smiled, arms wrapped around her, hands cupping her elbows.
“I’m glad I caught you,” she breathed, still smiling. Something about that smile made his skin crawl. “I tried to call you yesterday.”
“My day off.” He couldn’t quite keep the coldness out of his voice, and her smile faded. Like he gave a crap. Madeline’s revelations, about Kelly, about Allison’s machinations where he was concerned, kept beating in his head. “Did you want something?”
“I was hoping I could get back in the house.”
He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.
“I’ll have a deputy meet you there while you get what you need. We should be able to release the house to you in a couple of days.”
“Oh, I was hoping you’d go with me.” With a little pout of disappointment that did absolutely nothing for him, she laid her hand on his wrist. “And we’d have another chance to catch up.”
Disgust moved over him. He lifted her hand from his arm. “No thanks.”
“What is wrong with you?” The question came off playful, but something dark lurked beneath her words.
“Allison, I’m not interested in ‘catching up’ with you, now or ever.”
Shock moved across her delicate features, but an ugliness twisted her mouth. “This is not like you. I can’t believe you’re talking to me this way.”
“I’ll leave the keys at the front desk. Ask Lydia to get you a deputy to meet you at the house.”
“That’s it?” She grabbed his arm, nails digging in despite the thickness of his jacket, and spun him back to face her. “That’s all you have to say?”
“Yeah.”
Her entire face was twisted now. Had that ugliness been there when they’d been kids? Had he been infatuated enough to miss it back then?
“It’s that bitch Madeline Holton, isn’t it? God only knows what she’s been telling you.”
“What makes you think Madeline had anything to tell me?” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Better yet, what are you afraid she’d tell me?”
That set her back and she blinked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure. Not worried at all she’d tell me you lied about being on the pill? Or how you set up Kelly Coker—”
“Kelly didn’t get anything she didn’t want.”
“You really believe that, don’t you?” Un-freakin’-believable. “See Mrs. Lydia.”
“Do you think that’s it, Tick?” The ugliness invaded her voice now. “That you’re just going to walk away from me like this?”
He snatched the front door open, irritation slithering over him. “Yeah, Allison, that’s it.”
“This isn’t over.”
Uncovered: A Hearts of the South story Page 23