Body of Evidence

by Pickart, Joan Elliott; Davis, Justine; Merritt, Jackie

  For hours she studied the images on the monitor, enlarged pertinent areas of the photographs and used different screening and shading techniques to enhance vague features of the photos. Zooming in on the characteristics of one particularly harsh bruise, Maggie frowned and narrowed her eyes at the screen. There was a design of sorts in that bruise, but it still wasn’t clear enough to identify.

  “I’d like us to go over the case file together.”

  Maggie nearly jumped out of her skin. It was Josh’s voice, and she had been so involved that she hadn’t realized he’d been sneaking up on her.

  Well, maybe the word sneaking was a bit harsh. He could hardly do much sneaking when there were other detectives all over the place.

  Maggie looked at her watch. It was almost six, her shift was only minutes away from being over for the day. And then, thank goodness, she had a whole weekend to pull herself together.

  “It shouldn’t take that long,” Josh said, fully comprehending the reason for Maggie checking the time.

  “Fine,” she said stiffly.

  “We’ll do it at my desk.” He walked away.

  “I have to print something, then turn off the computer,” Maggie called to his retreating back.

  He waved his right arm without looking back, an impersonal acknowledgment that grated on Maggie’s nerves. All but gritting her teeth, she printed, saved her work and then followed proper procedure to safely shut down the computer.

  She also picked up the photographs, which she had arranged in order of importance. One small stack remained on her desk when everything else had been cleared away. Along with the printed image of the vague design she had just started to digest, she brought those with her, and strode to Josh’s office with an all-business look in her eyes. This meeting is not getting personal! If he says one thing that’s not related to the case, I’m going to let him have it again, and if he files a complaint with human resources about my bad attitude and conduct, I’ll tell them exactly what he said to me yesterday. How would he like that, huh?

  He wouldn’t like it, and she knew it. But there were things going on that she didn’t like and still had to put up with.

  For some unknown reason Maggie felt tears stinging the backs of her eyes. God, am I going to start bawling every time Josh says something to me? What in heck is wrong with me?

  Josh looked up when she slipped into his little cubicle and took a chair. The case file was open in front of him, and he started the discussion with, “I don’t see a report on the coffee table.”

  “It’s there. I examined every inch of that table and wrote a detailed report on it. The table is in the evidence room at the crime lab and the report is in that file.”

  “Show me.” Josh slid the folder toward her.

  Maggie pursed her lips. Was he calling her a liar? Doubting her efficiency? She grabbed the folder, opened it and began thumbing through the reports. She pulled out the coffee table report and held it out to him, but barely noticed when he took it. Another one had caught her eye, one she hadn’t yet read, and she stopped to scan it. Detectives Waters and Wilson had driven to the Gardner estate and talked to Mrs. Cecelia Gardner, Franklin’s mother.

  “Detective…let me see who signed this.” Maggie looked for the signature and continued. “Detective Waters indicated that Cecelia Gardner was at a charity function the night her son was killed, among many witnesses.” Maggie looked at Josh. “Do charity affairs last all night?”

  “Time of death was set by the M.E. as having occurred before midnight.”

  Frowning slightly, recalling that she had judged Gardner’s death to have occurred at around that same time after her preliminary examination at the crime scene, Maggie chewed on her lower lip and thought about this new development. Mrs. Gardner was almost eighty years old, which certainly didn’t preclude an occasional late night. Maggie decided her imagination was going to extremes. She dropped her eyes to the report and read that Detective Waters and his partner, Detective Wilson, had made inquiries about Franklin’s son, Stephen, age twenty-three, who wasn’t at home when they called.

  “I didn’t know Franklin had a son,” Maggie murmured.

  “There’s also a Lyle Gardner, Franklin’s older brother. He lives at the Gardner estate, as well, but was home supposedly watching television that night.”

  Maggie raised an eyebrow, pondering the Gardner family. “Everyone lives with Cecelia Gardner, except for Franklin. Was he a bit of a bohemian?”

  “Probably just a little more independent than the other men in his family. Could be he liked his privacy.”

  “He could have had reasons for liking his privacy.”

  “Such as?”

  “Late-night visitors? Maybe people of questionable character? People his mother might have objected to?”

  “There’s still the chance the whole thing began as a burglary.”

  Maggie sniffed. “I never did buy into that theory, and since you haven’t talked about it, either—not in my presence, at any rate—it appears to be pretty low on the motive totem pole.”

  “What do you think could be the motive?”

  “I believe that Franklin knew his killer and some sort of disagreement evolved into violence.”

  Josh hesitated a few moments, then nodded. “I think the same thing. You’re pretty sharp, Detective Sutter.”

  “Uh, thanks.” Maggie’s cheeks burned, not from the compliment but from what she’d just seen—again—in his eyes. Now, what was it she had been going to say if he became even remotely personal with her?

  Josh leaned back and enjoyed the view. That glorious dark red hair of hers was a major temptation. She always wore it back from her face, and he would love to see it wild and free. Or tangled beneath her head on a pillow. Ah, yes, how could he deny the pleasure that would bring him?

  Maggie’s interest in the case file had waned dramatically. In fact, she could hardly make out the typewritten words on the reports. Benton kept giving off sexual vibes, saying things with his eyes that he wouldn’t dare put into words. Not on the job, at least.

  But how about in her apartment? Something had almost happened there. Could she make it happen again, only this time with her keeping things rolling along?

  But what if he really was involved with someone? The last thing Maggie could ever see herself doing was carrying on a clandestine affair with a married or otherwise committed man.

  How could she find out? An idea occurred to her. “This has nothing to do with the case, but I’ve been thinking about having a little dinner party. If I put you on the guest list, would you come or refuse?”

  Josh couldn’t quite conceal his surprise. Or his instantaneous curiosity. What was really going on behind those stunning violet eyes of hers? Had she decided that his little speech yesterday had been more of a compliment than an insult? After all, wasn’t honesty always better than deceit, which was the game a lot of guys on the prowl practiced with women they wanted to bed? But considering the way she had bristled before getting out of his car, a dinner invitation was just about the last thing he could have imagined happening between them.

  He regarded her for a long moment. “Are you and I becoming friends?”

  Maggie knew she had perplexed him. “Does a dinner invitation indicate an offer of friendship to you?”

  “Yes, but I was under the distinct impression you didn’t like me. You used to like me, but that was a long time ago and people change.”

  “Yes, they certainly do,” Maggie drawled dryly. “Back to that dinner idea, should I put your name on the guest list, or not? I would include your wife…or girlfriend…of course.”

  “My wife! Didn’t I tell you just yesterday that I’m not the marrying kind?”

  “And I told you what I thought of such obvious malarkey, didn’t I? Why you still think that I’m backward enough to believe every word you say is beyond me. Do I really strike you as being a pickle short?”

  Josh laughed. “A pickle short of what? Look, if you thr
ow a dinner party and want me as a guest, I could probably scare up a date, just to keep your numbers even. That’s assuming, of course, that you would have a date of your own at the table.”

  At that exact moment Maggie’s cell phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and saw Natalie’s name and number. “Oh, I forgot my promise,” she groaned. “May I take this call?” she asked Josh.

  He shrugged. “Go ahead.”

  “Thanks.” Maggie pressed the talk button. “Nat, I’m sorry but I’m very busy and can’t talk right now. You’re calling about tonight, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, but it’s not what you think. Tonight I’m the one who’s canceling,” Natalie said with a little giggle. “I’ve got a date with my new guy.”

  “Oh, good for you. Let’s get together over the weekend, okay?”

  “If I can. He’s pretty hot stuff…or at least he looks like he is. I’ll probably find out all about it tonight. I’ll let you go. Just didn’t want to leave you hanging on a Friday night.”

  “I appreciate the consideration. Bye for now.”

  Maggie broke the connection and saw the most peculiar look on Benton’s face, a rather sour look, in fact. It struck her then that Nat was a non-gender name. She could have been talking to a man!

  The damned dog in the manger. He didn’t want the hay but neither did he want the horse to have it. Okay, she’d had enough of his lecherous looks and about-face attitudes. It was kill or cure time…and he sure deserved anything she might dream up to make him show his true colors.

  “I have the weekend off,” she said casually. “What’s your day like tomorrow?”

  Startled, Josh sat up straighter. “Um, I’ll be here for most of it. Why?”

  “That dinner party I mentioned.”

  “You can plan a party and invite people that fast?”

  “My friends aren’t at all uptight. If they’re not busy, they’ll be happy to come.”

  “Well…sure…I guess I could make it. About what time?”

  Maggie could tell he wasn’t thrilled about this. He seemed sort of squirmy to her, but since he’d already said he would come if invited, he would keep his word.

  Good boy. “Seven should do it. Is seven okay for you?”

  “It’s…uh, fine.”

  “Good. Now, I have something I’d like you to take a look at.” Maggie handed him the photo she had enhanced and printed.

  Josh took it, studied it for several moments then looked at her. “You’ve brought up portions of a design. That’s darn good computer work, Maggie. Do you think you could make this clearer still?”

  “I fully intend to try. Maybe I should come in tomorrow and work on it,” she added thoughtfully. Personal plans were secondary to solving a crime of this magnitude, especially when the plan was nothing more than a half-baked, undeveloped, completely aimless impulse in the back of her mind. It was all about putting Benton in his place, of course, but how did a sexual greenhorn accomplish such a feat with an obviously experienced man?

  Shuddering and praying he wouldn’t notice, she expanded her previous comment. “Tomorrow morning, at least. What do you think?”

  Josh nodded. “Maybe you should. But would your working tomorrow morning…say until noon…ruin your dinner party plans?”

  Maggie began gathering her things. “I don’t think so. Is there anything else for now?”

  “Well, we could talk all night about the case, but I doubt we would know any more at sunup than we do right now. Are you going to be here in the morning, then?”

  “Yes.”

  Josh got to his feet. “Maybe I’ll see you, maybe not. I plan to spend some time at the lab in the morning. I’d like another look at that coffee table, for one thing.”

  Maggie was immediately defensive. “I’m sure you’ll find everything in order as far as the tests and analyses I did at the lab.”

  “Did I say I wouldn’t? Did I even hint that you might not have handled everything as professionally as possible?”

  “Well, no, but…”

  “Go home, Maggie. I’ll either see you here in the morning or at your apartment at seven tomorrow evening.”

  Cheeks on fire over being dismissed so abruptly, she hurried out.

  All during the drive home she worried about her virginity. The only thing she knew about luring a man into either making love or an awful fool of himself was what she’d read in novels, or heard about from friends. Did she possess enough knowledge to behave as a worldly woman? She had to, she told herself. She simply had to! If he ever caught on that she was green as a gourd around men, he would probably laugh her into next week.

  “Oh dear Lord,” she whispered, almost afraid to get to the bottom of what was driving her into doing something so foreign to her nature.

  The streets were dangerously icy in spots. Maggie drove with a tight grip on the steering wheel, an eye out for black ice and an agonizing sense of despair. The despair was a result of feeling so confused about tomorrow night. When Benton arrived at her door expecting to join other guests for her “dinner party” and discovered he was the only guest, would he bolt? Laugh at her?

  At a red light Maggie watched for the green signal and realized that she had turned into an awful wimp since meeting Josh again. Other than her outburst last night, she had let him walk all over her. For heaven’s sake, why? Had she been thinking that he was so far above her that he was better than she was? He wasn’t a bit more intelligent. Yes, he had more experience with the CPD, but he was also ten years older, which meant that when he reached retirement age, she would still be going strong.

  “Hmm,” she murmured thoughtfully. The signal light turned green and she got the car moving again.

  And that was when her plan—so vague and undefined before—became clear in her mind. Each and every step of it. She wasn’t a wimp, she never had been, and tomorrow night she was going to knock Josh’s socks off.

  Still at his desk, Josh finally heaved a sigh and closed the Gardner case file. It was becoming thicker by the day—by the hour, actually. Colin Waters and his partner were doing an exemplary job of interrogating family, friends and business associates. There was a report in the file about Desmond Reicher, the COO for Gardner Corporation, which was intriguing because of its reference to Reicher, supposedly an upstanding citizen, possibly having an underworld connection. The report left Josh uneasy and wondering if Franklin had been aware of the corporation’s chief operating officer’s extracurricular activities. And, of course, the logical question to follow that one could only be, was Gardner himself involved in Reicher’s unlawful schemes, if they were, in fact, provable?

  Josh’s thoughts suddenly changed directions. Maggie, Maggie. What am I going to do about you? Leaning back in his chair with his hands locked behind his head, he put his feet up on his desk. He felt all torn up over Maggie, and he truthfully didn’t know what to do about it. Maybe when the Gardner case was solved and they were no longer working together, he could stop thinking about her.

  But, hell, there’d be another case, he thought disgustedly. Even so, he might be able to avoid Maggie most of the time, but how could he avoid what was going on inside his own body? He wanted her. There, he had finally admitted it. He wanted to make love to Maggie Sutter, and not just a quick slam, bam, thank-you-ma’am kind of love. He wanted to hold her, to stroke her beautiful long hair, to look into her eyes while he…while he…

  Josh dropped his feet to the floor and told himself to get a grip on reality. Good God, she was ten years younger than he was and Tim’s kid sister, to boot. Besides, she sure didn’t act as though she would welcome a seriously adult pass from him.

  Wishing that he’d refused her dinner invitation—he could have come up with some excuse—he pulled on his heavy coat. But there was consolation in knowing about the other guests. Probably wouldn’t be many because Maggie’s apartment wouldn’t accommodate a crowd, but there was safety in even small numbers. Two or three other guests would be enough to make him keep his
hands to himself. It might even turn out to be a pleasant evening.

  “Yeah, right,” he muttered on his way out.

  The next day, Maggie worked intently on those photo enhancements until noon. She had printed out five of the best ones and put them in the case file, although she still wasn’t satisfied with their quality.

  Benton hadn’t shown his face all morning, and she was glad because her stomach had been doing somersaults as it was. She rushed away a few minutes after twelve, made several stops to purchase the things she needed for dinner tonight, and finally got home at one-thirty. After working in the kitchen for two hours—now all she had to do to feed Benton was turn on the oven for about fifteen minutes—Maggie hurried to the bathroom to start on herself. She had cleaned the apartment last night, and everything shone like a looking glass. This morning she had put fresh linen on the bed. Everything was ready for the evening ahead except for herself and a few final touches to the apartment. She had hours to get ready, and she planned to use every minute of them. She began with a foot soak and a pedicure. No part of her was going to remain untouched. She was going to be as perfectly groomed as any woman could be.

  And she was going to learn tonight why Josh kept looking at her with hot, desire-filled eyes and never did anything about it.

  Her virginity scared the hell out of her. What if he did something about it tonight and then came unglued because she had never been with another man?

  “Oh God,” Maggie whispered. If they should happen to end up in bed together, was there anything she could do to prevent his understanding her pristine state? What scared her most was that she’d heard all her life that the first time for some women was horribly painful. If she were in that category, Josh would know in an instant that he was the first.