Jax bristled. He’d never liked the younger detective. He was crude, brash, and overbearing. As far as he knew, O’Reilly didn’t have any friends in the department. “What are you talking about?”
O’Reilly glanced around, as if making sure there was no one close enough to overhear their conversation. “Look, it might be politically incorrect to talk bad about the dead, but Gage Walsh was blinded by his ambition.”
Jax snorted in disbelief. “That’s bullshit.”
“Is it?” The man shrugged. “You know I was his partner?”
Jax had a vague memory of O’Reilly being teamed with Gage for a short time. It’d been several years ago. “So?”
“Walsh wasn’t a bad detective.” O’Reilly turned so he could settle his fat ass on the corner of the desk. “But he was always looking to score a high-profile case.”
“I never heard that about him.”
“It’s not something he spread around, but I think he had political aspirations.” He spoke stiffly. Almost as if he’d practiced the words.
“Gage?” Jax made no effort to disguise his skepticism. “You’re out of your mind. He hated bullshit politics.”
O’Reilly jutted his chin to a stubborn angle. “Maybe it was his wife pushing him. But he drove me nuts with his complaints that we were stuck investigating gangbangers and drug dealers.”
Jax rolled his eyes. “We all get frustrated. Don’t tell me you don’t ever complain.”
“Yeah, but he started exaggerating our reports.”
Jax might not have known Gage Walsh as well as his brother, but he did know that he’d been a damned good detective. And an honest one. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“Sometimes he implied our perp was a drug lord or that the case was connected to government corruption,” O’Reilly said, keeping his accusations vague enough it would be difficult to call him a liar. “When I refused to back up his claims, he dumped me for your brother. He assumed a hotshot Marcel would play his game. And he was right.”
Jax took a quick step forward, barely resisting the urge to punch the jerk in the face. “Be very, very careful of what you say next, O’Reilly,” he warned, his voice lethally soft.
O’Reilly tried to look casual, but Jax didn’t miss the nerve twitching next to his eye. The man knew he was asking for trouble, but still he pressed on.
“I’m not saying Ash was corrupt, but he was eager enough to jump on the bandwagon that there was a serial killer in Chicago.”
“Probably because there was a serial killer in Chicago.”
“We had a spate of women getting their throats slit,” O’Reilly said, his tone indicating he thought it was the women’s fault. “Maybe they were connected and maybe they weren’t. Either way, Walsh and your brother made sure they were the center of attention.”
Jax grimly leashed his flare of fury. There was no one in the Chicago Police Department who had doubted there was a serial killer. Or ever implied they thought Gage or Ash were camera hogs in search of personal fame.
So why was O’Reilly making his wild accusations? Sour grapes? Or something more nefarious?
Suddenly, Jax thought back to standing next to his brother in his storage unit. Ash had kept his and Gage’s notes hidden. Did he suspect someone in the department might be overly interested in the case?
Tucking the suspicion in the back of his mind, Jax studied the detective’s ruddy face. “So, if your theory is that there was no Butcher, who do you think killed Gage?”
O’Reilly gave a lift of one shoulder. “That daughter of his was obviously unhinged. Who knows what happened that night?”
Abruptly, Jax had endured enough. Remi Walsh had been kidnapped, terrorized, and then was plagued with guilt at the death of her father. Now this jackass was implying she was somehow responsible.
“Get away from my desk,” he rasped.
O’Reilly paled, but he took his time backing out of the cubicle. “Stay out of the past, Marcel,” he warned Jax. “You won’t like what you stir up.”
Jax scowled as the detective disappeared from view.
He didn’t know what O’Reilly had hoped to achieve. But he intended to keep a close eye on the man.
A very close eye.
Chapter Five
After a late night of organizing his old files, Ash was up and out of bed before dawn the next morning. He’d slept remarkably well considering he’d been in a strange place. It could have been because he was exhausted, both physically and emotionally. But he suspected it had more to do with the knowledge that Remi was sleeping on the other side of the wall.
For the first time in years, he hadn’t felt that empty ache in the center of his being. As if just having Remi near was enough to ease his need.
The sensation should have worried him, but he shrugged off the strange thought and hopped in the shower, then pulled on the heavy sweatpants and shirt his brother had packed for him. Next, he headed into the kitchen, starting the coffee maker and searching through the cabinets until he found a packet of dog treats.
He was seated at the kitchen table sipping his coffee with Buddy on a chair next to him when Remi strolled out of her bedroom.
She was already dressed for her morning run with her hair pulled into a high ponytail as she stepped into the kitchen. She came to a halt, her brows lifting at the sight of Buddy wagging his tail and offering her a goofy grin. Quickly, her gaze moved to the empty packet on the table.
“Are you bribing my dog?” she demanded.
Ash scratched the mutt under his chin. “He’s a beauty.”
“He is,” she readily agreed. “Why are you up so early?”
He rose to his feet. “Getting ready to go for a jog.”
She hesitated, clearly searching for an excuse to avoid his company.
“You don’t have to go with me,” she said. “I always take Buddy.”
He strolled toward the door to the garage where he’d left his coat. He turned back to meet her wary gaze as he pulled it on. “I’ve been running alone for years. It’ll be nice to have some company.”
His soft words seemed to catch her off guard. Slowly, her tension eased. Grabbing her own coat, she bundled it around her and took the leash.
“Okay, but you have to keep up or we’ll leave you in our dust.” Buddy scrambled to her side, eager to be out. She snapped the leash to his collar before dropping a kiss on top of his broad head. “Won’t we, boy?”
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll keep up,” Ash assured her, feeling a tiny tug on his heart. Remi was so warm and affectionate. She needed someone in her life to smother with love.
Of course, if she chose another man . . .
He slammed the door on the painful thought as his hand instinctively reached for the gun he no longer carried. This morning he just wanted to enjoy spending time with Remi.
In silence, they headed out of the house, walking a block to warm their muscles. Then, without needing to speak, they fell into a comfortable pace as they jogged through the early morning darkness. This was one of many rituals they’d enjoyed during their time together.
The sun was just beginning to crest the horizon when they turned back. The faint light allowed Ash ample opportunity to catch sight of the shadow that moved across her front porch.
Reaching out, he grasped her arm and brought her to a sharp halt. “Wait,” he commanded.
She sent him a puzzled glance. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a man on your porch.”
She stiffened, the dog growling as she turned her head to peer through the darkness. After a minute, she released her breath with a harsh sigh.
“That’s just Doug,” she said in dismissive tones.
“Doug?”
“Doug Gates.”
He glanced down at her unconcerned expression. “A friend?”
She shrugged. “My next-door neighbor.”
Ash frowned. If she thought he would be comforted by her explanation, she was wrong.
He didn’t like the thought there was a man living so close who thought he had the right to wander around her property.
“Does he spend a lot of time on your porch?” he demanded.
She sent him a puzzled glance, easily catching the edge in his voice. “He’s a nice guy,” she assured him.
Ash ignored her words, his gaze remaining locked on the man who’d moved to glance through Remi’s front window. He was going to have a word with Doug about creeping around a woman’s house. Either he was a pervert or something worse.
“Married?” he asked.
“Divorced.”
“How long has he lived next door?”
“Around six months.”
Ash’s suspicion went up a notch. Certainly, it could be a coincidence. But then again, if the Butcher had returned to Chicago with the specific purpose of playing some sick game with Remi, moving next to her would fit the pattern.
“Hmm.”
He heard Remi heave a deep sigh. “You’re going to run a background check on him, aren’t you?”
Ash shrugged. “Not me personally.”
With a shake of her head, Remi cut through the yard and climbed on the porch. “Hi, Doug.”
The man whirled around, an eager smile curving his lips. “Morning, Remi.”
Ash strolled up behind her, pleased to hear Buddy growling low in his throat. The dog clearly thought Doug was sketchy. Yet another reason to discover everything he could about the neighbor. He halted beside Remi, barely resisting the urge to wrap his arm around her shoulder.
Doug glanced toward him, his smile fading as his eyes narrowed.
Remi broke the thick silence. “This is Ash Marcel. He’s staying with me for the holidays.”
Doug allowed his gaze to run over Ash, his jaw tightening. “A relative?”
Remi answered before Ash could speak. “An old friend.”
“I see,” Doug said, his tone indicating he didn’t understand at all.
“Did you need something?” Remi demanded.
Doug gave Ash one last, lingering glance, almost as if he thought he could intimidate him. Idiot.
“Just making sure your lurker hadn’t returned.”
Ash was immediately distracted. “What lurker?”
“It’s nothing.” Remi sent a stiff smile toward Doug. “Everything’s fine.”
It was an unmistakable dismissal and Doug grudgingly headed off the porch. “Okay, then. If you need anything, just give a yell.”
Waiting until the man had disappeared into the house next door, Ash glanced toward Remi. “Tell me about the lurker.”
“After we get out of the cold.”
Remi reached into the pocket of her coat to pull out her keys. Unlocking the front door, she entered the house and unhooked Buddy’s leash. The dog moved to flop on a pillow next to the couch while Ash closed the door.
He pulled off his coat and tossed it on a nearby chair. “Talk,” he commanded.
She sent him a wry glance, tugging off her own jacket. “Last night I took Buddy for a walk. When we came back to the house, he ran into the kitchen and started barking. I went out and looked around, but there was no one around. There might have been a shadow at the back of the yard, but it was too dark to say for sure.”
Ash made a mental note to go out later to check for any indication there’d been someone sneaking around her backyard. For now, however, he concentrated on his suspicions swirling around Doug Gates. “How did your neighbor know?”
She absently pulled her hair from the ponytail, allowing it to spill over her shoulders. Ash’s hands twitched. He’d loved running his finger through the satin strands. Or, better yet, feeling her hair brushing over his bare skin when they were in bed.
“He came out when I was looking around,” she said.
Ash crushed the fantasies that threatened to distract him. Right now he was trying to keep Remi safe. Later, he would discover if her hair was as soft as he remembered.
“Came out or was already out?” he demanded.
She paused, considering his question. “I didn’t notice. He just appeared.”
“Definitely a person of interest,” Ash murmured. He’d get Jax to run the background check ASAP.
She rolled her eyes. “You sound like a detective, Dr. Marcel.”
He gave a lift of his hands. He did sound like a detective. Probably because deep in his heart, he still felt like one.
“I’ll try to sound more scholarly in the future,” he promised.
Their gazes met and held, a strange understanding passing between them. It was like the first time they’d crossed paths in the squad room. She’d come to take her father to lunch and he’d been sitting at the older man’s desk. They’d stared at each other in silence, both caught off guard by the intensity of their first glance.
Ash had known in that moment his life was never going to be the same.
And he’d been right.
Remi’s face flushed, her eyes darkening with need before she was abruptly turning away. “I need a shower,” she muttered.
He forced himself not to reach out and pull her back to him.
“I’ll make some breakfast,” he said, his tone deliberately light. “And we can head to Bailey.”
She nodded, scurrying toward the hallway without looking back. Ash smiled wryly as he headed toward the kitchen. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the awkward awareness that smoldered between them.
He hated the realization that the easy relationship he’d taken for granted between them was gone. But then again, he would have been devastated if she’d felt nothing.
Entering the kitchen, Ash distracted himself with cooking a decent breakfast. It wasn’t easy, considering that Remi’s cabinets were nearly bare. She’d never enjoyed spending time in the kitchen and it appeared that hadn’t changed.
He had the plates on the table when she entered the dining room smelling like soap and delicious strawberry lip balm. She’d pulled her damp hair into a braid and wrapped herself in a pair of jeans and a warm, fuzzy sweater. She looked like she should still be in college, not teaching troubled teens.
They ate in silence, then Remi poured out food and water for Buddy and they headed back out of the house. Ash led her toward the sleek, silver Mercedes coupe, his lips twitching as Remi arched her brows. Clearly, she hadn’t paid any attention to the vehicle before now.
“Is this your car?” she demanded in surprise.
“I rented it,” he explained, lifting his hand as her eyes widened. “And no, I’m not going through some midlife crisis. The rental agency had this car, a van that could fit twelve people, and a sedan with a broken defroster.”
“’Tis the season,” she murmured.
“No crap.”
She glanced up at the sky. The sun was shining, but this was the Midwest. Any second the clouds could roll in and the snow could start flying.
“Maybe we should take my car,” she offered.
It made more sense to take the sensible sedan. But while Remi had been in the shower, Ash had considered a dozen different ways to approach the people of Bailey and ask questions. He’d been in enough small towns to know they were friendly enough with one another, but they didn’t like strangers. They were going to need a tempting excuse to get them to share information about Angel Conway.
“I was thinking we might pass ourselves off as reporters,” he told her. “Maybe even imply we’re making a documentary. The flashier our transportation, the better.”
She sent him a startled glance. “That’s actually a good idea.”
Ash snorted, pressing the button on the key fob that would unlock the doors. “I do have them now and again.”
With a chuckle, Remi pulled open the passenger door. Ash hurried around the car to settle behind the steering wheel. Once they were both buckled in, he loaded the address into the GPS and fired up the massive engine. In less than ten minutes they were on the interstate headed south.
Settling into the butter-
soft leather seat, Remi remained silent as she watched the tightly packed neighborhoods spread out to sprawling suburbs and finally to farmland.
“Has the family been notified?” she finally demanded.
“Yeah. Jax called while you were in the shower,” he said. Jax had already been at his office when he’d phoned Ash. “Angel’s mother is expected to ID the body today.”
She sent him a startled glance. “Shouldn’t we wait until she’s back home?”
“No. Jax will interview Ms. Conway after she’s done at the morgue,” he said. “I’m more interested in Angel’s friends. She would be more likely to tell them her true reason for going to Chicago. Especially if it was something she wanted to keep hidden from her family.”
“That makes sense,” she agreed. “But how are we going to find her friends?”
That was one part of the plan to which Ash hadn’t given much thought. He shrugged. “It’s a small town. We’ll be able to figure out where Angel would hang out.”
She didn’t bother to argue as Ash exited the interstate onto a narrow county road. Probably because he was using the long, empty stretch of highway to see precisely how the expensive car would perform. He grinned at the throaty sound of the engine and the way the vehicle hugged the pavement as they rounded a curve.
“Maybe I am going through a midlife crisis,” he admitted.
She blinked in confusion. “Why do you say that?”
“I’m liking this car.”
She released a startled laugh. “I’m sure your students would be impressed. A hot professor in a sports car.”
He pounced on her teasing words. “You think I’m hot?”
She blushed, quickly looking away. “Do you like teaching?”
“For now.”
Ash turned his attention back to the road, slowing to a reasonable speed. The turnoff into Bailey was only a few miles away. He didn’t want to miss it.
He sensed her curiosity. “But?”
He didn’t have an easy answer. There was a part of him that enjoyed being a teacher. Most of his students were eager to learn and it was fulfilling to know he was helping to train the lawmen of the future. Still, another part of him had started to chafe at being in the classroom. Especially when that classroom was so far away from Chicago.
The Intended Victim Page 6