Jan Coffey Suspense Box Set: Volume Two: Three Complete Novels: Road Kill, Puppet Master, Cross Wired

by Jan Coffey

  “How can she live with herself? What does she see when she looks in the mirror? Such a liar!”

  Diving elbow deep into the concoction, she started kneading like a madwoman. Liquid, flour, and egg sloshed over the sides, and lumps of gooey unrecognizable glop soon speckled her face and shirt.

  “What, uh, exactly are you making?”

  Her cheeks were bright red. The green eyes were spitting fire when they looked up to him. “Bread.”

  Gavin knew better than to smile when she reached up to push a strand of hair out of her face and left a streak of dough on her forehead.

  “What kind of bread?”

  “Let-me-beat-the-crap-out-of-lying-reporters bread.” She punched the mixture in the bowl, sending more of the mess flying.

  “A good one.”

  “It's a variety of burn-out-my-frustration bread.”

  “Can’t wait to taste it.”

  “The bread will be crap, but when I’m done, I’ll be cool and collected.”

  His mind flashed back to the dream. For a split second all he could think of what she’d be like having sex. Cool and collected? Or a fireball?

  “You should start giving a class on this.”

  “Nothing here will be edible.”

  He disagreed, his gaze moving down the lines of buttons on the front of her shirt. They’d been about to have oral sex on the beach. Five more minutes of sleep this morning would have done it. He forced his thoughts out of the gutter. “I was thinking more like an anger management class.”

  “No one will call me when that woman is done exposing me. There will be no school pictures or family Christmas cards or wedding books or children’s portraits or brochures for fancy health clubs. There will be no business left at all. She is going to take away the last shred of me.” Each word was accentuated by a punch of the dough. “There will be nothing left.”

  Lacey stopped, looking at her hands, the counter, and the mess she’d created around her. She looked drained.

  Gavin’s gaze remained on her face as she struggled to pull a blanket of calm around herself. Her long lashes were blinking back tears and her skin was flushed.

  Without looking at him, she eventually yanked the trash can out from under the sink and emptied the bowl of dough into it.

  “I’m sorry. I lost it for a few minutes.”

  He stood quietly, giving her time and space to rein in her emotions.

  “The picture that showed up on my computer. You were coming over to tell me what I should do about it.”

  Anyone else watching her might have thought that she was back in control, that her bread-making routine had worked. But it’d be a lie. She washed her hands in the sink and then picked up a sponge, starting to wipe down the mess on the counters and the table. She was trying so hard to keep her composure intact, but she was teetering on the edge.

  He knew Lacey had no other family in Connecticut. He doubted if she had any close friends, either. There’d been no one with her at the funeral. It didn’t take skilled insight to know she was alone…and feeling it right now.

  Everyone needed consoling sometimes. Everyone needed to know that there was someone else out there who cared. But Gavin didn’t trust himself to walk over to Lacey and just hold her in his arms. Besides, Farah Aziz was waiting for Lacey’s call. He had to tell her. He had to stick to business.

  “Do you know a person named Fay Stone?”

  Lacey straightened up beside the counter. The green eyes tried to focus on his face.

  “Fay Stone. Probation Officer Fay Stone?” The words were barely a whisper.

  The sponge slipped through her fingers and dropped to the floor. She wobbled. For an instant he thought she was going to pass out. He was at her side in two quick steps, taking her arm. Beads of sweat ran down her face, but her skin was freezing cold.

  “Sit here.” He pulled out a chair and sat her in it. “Put your head down and take deep breaths. I’ll get you something to drink.”

  Gavin searched the cabinets and found a glass. He filled it with tap water. She was sitting where he’d left her, motionless, her eyes closed. He wasn’t sure she was breathing. He pressed the glass against her fingers.

  “Here you go.”

  She opened her eyes, and he saw tears drop before she was able to blink them away. Her hands closed around the glass.

  “Drink it.”

  She took a long sip.

  Gavin was afraid she would sink to the floor if he stepped away. He pulled up another chair and sat down, facing her. His knees trapped hers. His hands cupped her elbows. He was close enough that she could lean into him if she wanted.

  “Drink all of it.”

  This close, he realized that her eyes were a dark crystalline green. More beautiful than he’d thought. Her lips were full and soft. He reached up and wiped a patch of dough from her silky skin. The red mark left behind was more than a hint of the fragility that existed beneath her thin outer shell.

  She put the glass on the table.

  “Fay…” She folded her hands and stared at them. “After I got out of jail, Fay Stone was my probation officer for the six months that I was still in Connecticut.”

  He took her hands in his. They were ice cold. He was relieved when she didn’t pull away. “The picture on your computer?”

  “It could be Fay. Now I can see it. It could be her. It is her.”

  “When was the last time you saw her or spoke to her?” Gavin asked.

  “I ran into her a couple of months ago, coming out of the library in New Milford. She recognized me. We chatted for a while, catching up on my news. Then I saw her again last week. She’d heard about Terri and called me. We went out for coffee here in town. She wanted to bring her niece over for a sitting. Christmas pictures.”

  “Was there ever any problem between you two?”

  “Problem?” She met his gaze. “No. She was one of the only good things I recall about my supposed rehabilitation. She made it easier for me to leave Connecticut, pushed to have my probation period reduced. She wrote glowing reports about me. She…she was kind to me. Happy for me that I was back in Connecticut and trying to make my business work.”

  The tension was easing in her. He could feel it. He let go of her hands, and she pushed her chair back, getting up and giving herself distance. She wasn’t ready to be this close.

  “When was that picture taken?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly as she turned around by the sink to face him.

  “Last night.”

  A hand went to her mouth. It took a few long moments before any words escaped her. “The photo was downloaded to my computer last night. It’s me. Terri is dead. Now Fay. Someone is killing innocent people to get at me.”

  “Do you have an attorney, Lacey? A person you can trust?”

  Realization locked her gaze on him. There was the slightest shake of her head.

  “I have a name and a phone number.” He opened the contact information on his phone. He told her about the conversation he’d already had with Farah Aziz. “I think it’s really important that you speak to her before calling the police again.”

  He went on to explain how investigations worked. It would be in her best interest to already have representation, as it was obvious someone was targeting her for whatever purpose.

  Lacey stood there, listening. She reminded him of a narrow sea wall with hurricane force winds and waves bashing away at her, washing over her.

  “Farah wants you to call her right away.”

  Lacey picked up the cell phone off the counter and walked over to him. Looking at his phone, she dialed the number. Farah must have answered right away; Lacey left the kitchen, her voice low, her spirit clearly crushed.

  Gavin ran a hand down the back of his neck. Her desperation was cutting more deeply into him than he would have imagined. He’d be a fool to try to analyze it. Loyalty, debt, guilt, attraction. Whatever the motivation was, it didn’t matter. He was going to help Lacey get through this.
r />   He stood. The supplies for her bake-and-box workout were still scattered around the kitchen. Even as he started putting things away, his mind was already organizing the who and the why possibilities behind the photos and the killings.

  There was one obvious answer. Stephanie Green’s murder. He had to get his hands on those case files.

  CHAPTER 18

  “What do you think they’re doing in there?”

  Amy pulled out the ear buds, closed her laptop, and spun the receptionist’s chair around. She batted at empty air. “You’re not supposed to be back here, Nick.”

  “Who’s going to kick me out?”

  “Me.” Her hands were trapped against her chest as Nick kissed her firmly on the lips. He groped her breast before pulling back.

  “Let’s have sex right here.”

  Amy tried to push him away. “You are going to get me fired. People can see us from the weight room.”

  Nick had been replacing ceiling tiles in there this afternoon because of some water damage.

  “There’s no one in the weight room.”

  “Donna is here today. She’s going to come around and—”

  “I’d say she’s otherwise engaged,” Nick whispered into her ear. “Let’s see. Donna and Ron Marteka locked up in her office with the blinds down.” Donna’s was the first of four glass-fronted offices behind the reception area. “It’s been at least half an hour. What do you think they’re doing?”

  “Come on,” she asked. “You think Ron and Donna are an item?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Nick corrected. “But they definitely are having sex. Lots of it. Or at least, they used to.”

  “But Ron is married,” Amy told him. “I was introduced to his wife Veronica my first day on this job.”

  “Yep. And I’ll tell you something not everyone knows. She’s the daughter of Boss Man Bratva. Ron married her right out of high school,” Nick told her. “So getting a little on the side with Donna is not too swift, considering his father-in-law’s reputation. They’ll find him floating in New Haven harbor if he doesn’t smarten up.”

  “Seriously? Veronica’s father is a criminal?”

  “Uh…yeah. Totally connected. They say he’s the top mob boss along the shoreline.”

  “Scary.”

  “To you. But I guess not so much to Ron. He’s stupid and a player at the same time. Act straight. The blinds are going up. I’m getting back to my job.”

  Amy tried to look nonchalant, and a moment later she heard the door to Donna’s office open.

  “We’ll talk later,” Donna said in a hushed tone from the office.

  “What are you…stupid? I’m done talking.” Ron’s voice was harsh. “Finished. Push me and I’ll…”

  He marched off without finishing the sentence. Amy recognized Donna’s light step behind her.

  “How is it going?” she asked in a tense tone. “Any phone calls?”

  “No, it’s been really quiet. But I’m getting ready for the after-work rush,” she said.

  On the other side of the counter, Ron moved toward the door.

  “Hey, Ron.” Nick’s voice came from the direction of the weight room. “How’s it going?”

  “Good. You?”

  “Okay. How’s my truck coming?”

  “It’s coming.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Nick said good-naturedly, stopping in front of the counter. “But I’ve been waiting forever to get that baby out of your body shop. When are you looking at finishing it up?”

  “I’m still waiting for the front fender. It should come in next week.”

  “That’s what you said two weeks ago.”

  “Look, pal, if you’re unhappy with the service, take it somewhere else. That’s the best I can do.”

  CHAPTER 19

  By five o’clock that afternoon, Lacey had no doubt that she was in trouble. But at least now she had a team around her and a game plan.

  Farah Aziz was one of those attorneys that Lacey could only imagine on some TV lawyer show—calm, confident, and reassuring. They had spoken a number of times on the phone today. Her fees were steep. But surprisingly, all Farah asked for to get started was a small credit card transaction. By early afternoon, she had a technical assistant at Lacey’s house. The young woman had collected her computer, and at the same time, she had done an overhaul of the system security and set up an old laptop that she could use to communicate with clients.

  Now she had to use a twenty-four character password in order to get online. Also, a separate guest log-in had been set up for Amy. And the firewall prevented anyone from getting access without her permission.

  Feeling a bit more in control, she had to figure out all the costs and how she would be able to afford all this help. But that was a headache for another sleepless night.

  Gavin spent the day at the house, taking over the living room and conducting his own business. For Lacey, it was a relief to be able to walk in and ask the questions that kept popping into her head. She was walking a tightrope and it was essential not to miss a step.

  Spending a couple of hours in her office after Farah’s assistant left, Lacey finally caught up with the email and phone messages from her existing clients. There were no new queries except Donna’s, and that only took a couple of minutes to put together.

  By six o’clock her stomach was growling, but she called Amy first and gave her a watered-down version of what was going on. She also told her the new information on the Internet connection.

  “I already have a call in to an alarm company. They’re supposed to let me know how soon they can come over and install a system. There’ll be one installed in your apartment, too.”

  “That sounds great.”

  “I don’t mean to scare you, but is there anyone staying with you for the weekend? I’d hate to have you all alone back there.”

  “You sound like my mother,” Amy quipped.

  “I have serious reason to be worried,” Lacey said. “You can come stay in the guest room at the house. Please, Amy.”

  “I’ll call Nick right now. He won’t refuse if I tell him you’re worried.”

  Lacey liked Nick, though she worried that Amy was setting herself up for heartbreak once the good-looking carpenter decided to move on. “Starting tonight?”

  “He was planning to come over anyway.”

  “Good.”

  Relieved, she closed the laptop and swung her chair around. Gavin was leaning against the doorway watching her. The twist of a knot deep in her stomach had been a common occurrence today. She couldn’t look at him without going a little soft in the knees. It was crazy.

  “You’ve given me no lunch or dinner. I’m starving. Do you have anything good to eat or drink in this house?”

  “I don’t think so. But I can check.” Pushing to her feet, she started for the door. “What qualifies as good?”

  His dark gaze followed her. Lacey was insecure about her limp, but he somehow managed to make her feel like she was some Victoria’s Secret model working the catwalk.

  “Your coffee doesn’t.”

  She backhanded him in the stomach. She might as well have hit a rock. “I didn’t hear you complain when you were chugging down the last pot I made.”

  “I couldn’t keep my eyes open.”

  Lacey slipped past him into the hall and glanced into the living room. His laptop sat open and loose pages of paper were scattered around the coffee table. The imprint of his body on the sofa told her he’d been lying down.

  “It was way too comfortable in there.” He moved behind her. The brush of his breath tickled her ear. “Now I have enough caffeine in my system to stay up all night.”

  The words made the knot move deeper in her belly. She had no doubt what he meant. Her body tingled all over.

  “You get back to work. I’ll check the fridge.”

  “I’m done for today.”

  He followed her into the kitchen. Lacey had to switch gears and get her mind off Gavin’s ch
arms. She didn’t know how long she could resist him. She didn’t know how long she’d want to. And this wasn’t like her.

  “Do you think they’re going to come after me with sirens blasting?” she asked, opening the fridge door, putting it in between them.

  “I don’t think they’re going to come here, at all,” he said. “This is what will happen. Farah calls the police and reports the picture. They already have your fingerprints on file from before. But they might try to ask for a DNA sample if they don’t already have a suspect in custody. That’s when your attorney reads them the riot act that they’re violating your rights.”

  “You make it sound so non-threatening.”

  “Farah knows what she’s doing.” He picked up the empty mugs from the kitchen table, and set them in the sink. “Don’t worry about the cops. You’re a victim here. Try to remember that.”

  She felt chilled deep in her bones and wished she could stop worrying, even for a short time. First Terri. Then Fay Stone. Who would be next? She worried about everyone around her. And right now, Amy topped her list.

  “You’re standing before an open fridge and shivering.” He smiled at her. “Come here and I’ll warm you up.”

  “Food.” She hurriedly leaned into the fridge. A six-pack of beer and half a bottle of white wine—leftovers from Terri’s last visit—were the only things in there. “I’m about a century overdue for major grocery shopping.”

  She closed the door and leaned against it. “I’m sorry, but I guess we should call it a night.”

  “My offer for dinner still stands.” Gavin walked toward her. “How about us going out and having a sit-down dinner someplace nice? My treat.”

  “I…” Lacey tried to think of an excuse. “I don’t know.”

  Was it the invitation or his approach that made her stammer? She took a step toward the kitchen door, but her hip came up against the cabinets. There was nowhere to go.

  “It’s only dinner. I don’t bite.”

  She had to tilt her head back to look up into his face. That was a mistake. She wasn’t accustomed to men with his type of high-voltage attractiveness. “I got no sleep last night. I’ll be dozing off at dinner and embarrass you in public.”