“Of course I’m sure.” The note of finality in Alex’s voice left little doubt that this conversation was over. Mike looked away, focusing his gaze out the living-room window where the dark night closed in.
“Sorry. Hope I didn’t overstep.”
“Forget it,” Alex said, finishing his beer and setting the empty bottle on the table. Just then Emma appeared, announcing that dinner was served. As if sensing the tension in the room, she looked from Mike’s face to Alex’s and then back again. His reassuring smile did not quite reach his eyes.
“Great. I’m starving.” The lie was well intentioned. While the smell of chicken and rosemary was appetizing, Alex had lost his appetite. All he wanted to do was get back to the office, where he could do some more digging into Lilith’s identity.
Traversing the quiet hallways, Alex heaved a small sigh of relief as he noted that the light was not on in Captain Lewis’s office. Explaining his after-hours presence to Lewis was something he’d rather avoid.
Pushing through the double doors, he saw several team members still working at their computers, eyes fixed to their screens. Kris Thompson had her purse slung over her shoulder, cell phone cradled to her ear, when she caught sight of him. For an instant, she looked like a kid with her hand caught in the candy jar. Then she dipped her head, acknowledging him with a quick nod, and angled the phone away from her mouth.
“I left a fax on your desk.”
“Thanks.” As he passed by, she avoided his gaze.
Was she hiding something? The evasive maneuver suggested deception. Or maybe she was still pissed at him, Alex thought. Wherever she was going, she had taken pains to look her best. Jackson had mentioned a boyfriend, and maybe he was right. Maybe she was the type of girl who didn’t mix business with pleasure.
With a quick wave he ducked into his office.
The thick fax on his desk was from Luka and included more details on the two crimes. Thumbing through the reports, he tallied up the similarities. Both men were married, successful, in their late thirties, and from out of town. Both had been killed by gunshot wounds, same caliber of weapon fired at close range. Both crime scenes were left clean. Both men were missing their wedding rings. Apparently this killer was taking trophies.
He checked the dates of the murders against Jill’s travel schedule and felt a sinking sensation spiral at the pit of his stomach. Jill’s business trips spanned the dates when the murders took place.
The database search on Lilith’s photo was still progressing and would likely continue well into the night. In the meantime, he tried to learn more about Lilith in a way that would not raise any flags on his system. An hour later he was no further ahead. Lilith had carefully covered her tracks, and without opening an official investigation, he couldn’t do much more to drill in on her real identity. And he couldn’t do that until he was reasonably sure that Jill was in no way involved.
How could it be Jill, though? What possible motivation could she have for luring and murdering complete strangers? None of it made any sense. He knew he had no choice but to keep digging.
There were two things he needed to do, and quickly. Alex needed to find out Lilith’s identity, and he needed to rule out any possibility of Jill’s involvement in the San Francisco deaths. But how could he do that? Alex pushed back in his chair, angling his eyes toward the ceiling as he searched for possibilities.
It wouldn’t be hard to design a piece of spyware to place on Jill’s computer, the type of thing that would report on what websites she was visiting, who she sent emails to, her instant messaging activity. The difficult part would be getting it installed on her machine.
Maybe he could design it as a script and embed it in an apparently benign attachment. If he did it right, she could open the attachment without ever realizing that it had triggered the script. He’d also need to implement it in such a way that it would not load when she was inside the ZyraNet domain. Their firewall might set off an alert. It would be tricky, but doable.
Alex tented his long fingers beneath his chin. The thought of bugging Jill’s machine did not sit well with him. It was worse than snooping in her purse, and he felt squeamish at the very thought of invading her privacy. Still, what choice did he have? How else could he truly rule her out as a possible suspect?
As he brushed his fingers lightly against his lips, the solution to his second problem came to him. There was one sure way to learn more about Lilith.
Alex took his time reading the online profiles of both of the victims, looking for commonalities. What had it been about these two guys that had attracted Lilith? On the surface they were very different men.
Casanova was a plaster-it-on-thick sensitive type, his hook to lure in women. Joel Goodsen was different, a no-nonsense get-down-to-it kind of guy. He was attractive in a corporate kind of way that exuded intelligence and power. Not many women would be drawn to both. Finding no obvious connection, he decided to change his approach. He would create a profile that incorporated characteristics of both men.
After all, sometimes catching a predator meant using the right bait.
47
“You’re on fire,” Rachel Meyers said. She hung back, letting the crowd filter out of the meeting room. Jill shot Rachel a sly look.
“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”
“Sure, and that slick little maneuver you used to sidestep Barry’s pet project and have it land in Dana’s lap was purely coincidental.” Rachel’s sideways glance was shrewd. “Don’t get me wrong. I admire a deft political play as much as anyone. But I do have to admit that I felt a little sorry for her. She’s way out of her league.”
“Maybe she’ll welcome the challenge.”
“Sure. Or maybe she’s in way over her head, and you just threw her an anchor.”
“You’re such a pessimist,” Jill scoffed. A dry laugh escaped her lips.
Jill had arranged lunch with Rachel but needed to swing by her office in order to grab her purse before they left. Rachel cocked an eyebrow.
Jill flashed an enigmatic smile as she ducked inside the office door. With one hand she set her laptop down on her desk, and with the other she scooped up her oversized purse. “You know what this place is like. You’ve either got to sink or swim, so you could interpret delegating the project to Dana as a valuable lesson. It’s an excellent way to get more visibility.”
“Would that make you her mentor?” The edge in Rachel’s voice was unmistakable.
The flippant response she had formulated died on her lips as she caught sight of a ladder set up in the middle of the hallway just down from Dana’s office. A maintenance worker stood at the bottom looking up. His coworker stood on the third rung from the top. The breath caught in Jill’s throat, and she was unable to prevent her eyes from straying to the corner of Dana’s office, to the ceiling.
“What are they doing?” Jill asked, her voice tight.
“Don’t know. Replacing lights. Why?”
“No reason. I thought they tended to do that stuff after hours.”
The lie was a clumsy one, and she avoided meeting Rachel’s eye. If they went crawling around in Dana’s ceiling, they would find the gun that she had stashed there, the gun that Jill had used to kill two men in the Bay Area in as many months. It was neatly wrapped in a T-shirt that she had taken from Dana’s very own gym bag.
Trying hard not to dwell on the possible consequences of the maintenance work around Dana’s office, she trailed Rachel to the elevators. The afternoon was uncharacteristically cold as they left the ZyraNet offices, and they wasted no time in getting to the Bistro.
Jill’s throat was dry, and she declined the offer of wine, deciding to stick with water. As Rachel perused the menu, Jill picked at her cuticles. She tried to wipe the image of the maintenance workers out of her mind. It was probably nothing, and she’d circle back around Dana’s office when they returned to the building. Maybe they would be gone by then. Maybe she should find another hiding place for the weapon
.
“So what are you having?” Rachel asked.
“Oh, a seafood Cobb salad.”
“Always watching your figure.” Rachel clucked her tongue while examining the menu. “Well, I’m going to splurge and have the grilled salmon ciabatta.”
Jill smiled at Rachel, taking a long look at her companion. There was something different about Rachel. She looked younger somehow. It wasn’t her hair. It wasn’t her clothes or her makeup, both of which were perfectly in synch with her contemporary style. It was something about the look in her eyes. She looked happy.
“Are you celebrating something?” Jill asked, her spider sense tingling.
“As the matter of fact, yes.” Rachel’s Cheshire-cat smile heightened Jill’s curiosity.
“Well then, out with it. What are we drinking to?”
“To my divorce. It’s final.”
“Congratulations.” Jill raised her water glass, clinking it against Rachel’s.
Rachel took a sip of the pale golden Chardonnay, her lipstick leaving a pink crescent on the rim of the glass.
“Thank you. I can’t believe you’re the first person I’ve told.”
“It’s good to see you happy for a change.”
“If I’d known I was going to feel this good after the divorce, I would have done it years ago.”
Jill sipped her water. The salty smell of seafood in the air made her feel a little queasy. The waitress set a basket of fresh bread on the table, and Jill took a piece, nibbling on the edge in hopes that it would settle her stomach.
“No kidding. I’ve got to say, I’m surprised that it’s put you in such a good mood. Last time we talked about the ex, you were pretty angry.”
“True.”
“Did Barbie dump him?” Jill used Rachel’s pet name for her ex-husband’s girlfriend, the twenty-something he had met online.
“Better, actually. I’ve met someone.”
“Well, look who’s playing her cards close to her chest. Details, please.”
“He’s in computer software, of course. Forty-nine, divorced with grown kids.”
“And I’ll bet he has a name.”
“Ben.”
“How long have you known him?”
“A few weeks.”
“Well, good for you. That’s terrific news. Can he cook?”
“He can make a pretty mean pancake.”
“Are you sleeping over?”
“Are you my mother? Besides, I’m not the type to kiss and tell.” Rachel’s smile was coy.
“Since when? Seriously, good for you.”
Rachel straightened as the waitress approached with their food. She set the plates down on the table and asked if they needed anything else. Both declined. Rachel picked up the sandwich and took a dainty bite.
Jill’s stomach rolled as she looked at the seafood salad. With a trembling hand, she pushed the plate back, her fingers straying momentarily to her lips. Rachel paused, looking across the table at Jill, concern etched in the lines around her eyes.
“You okay?”
Much to her dismay, Rachel hovered by Jill’s elbow as they made their way back to the office. Jill took the long way, passing by Dana’s open door. She was relieved to see that the maintenance workers were gone. The gun was safe.
“You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, Mom, I’m fine. I’ve probably got a flu bug. Sorry for ruining your celebratory lunch. Next time, I promise not to vomit. I’ll even spring for champagne.”
“Big spender. In that case, it’s a date,” Rachel said. She took a step toward the door. Then, pausing, she threw a concerned glance back at Jill. “You’re sure you’re not knocked up?”
Jill’s mouth dropped open and she stared at Rachel.
“I can’t believe you even asked that.”
“So, I take it that’s a no,” Rachel asked with a smile.
“That’s a hell no.”
“Okay, okay. I thought it was worth asking. You never know.” With a brief shrug, Rachel left the office. Unfortunately, the briny smell of the grilled salmon ciabatta did not.
48
Setting up his online profile for the Hook Up website had been easy. Wading through the list of women pinging him was much harder, Alex mused. Mark Wilson was a producer for a new reality television series, and apparently there were a lot of women who loved show business. In two short days, his inbox overflowed with messages.
Methodically he examined each, searching for any sign of Lilith before hitting the Delete key. He tried hard not to adopt a cynical attitude about the general state of the human condition. But at times like this, it was a little harder than it should be.
Alex sat alone at a scarred table in the Diva coffee shop, just off Greenwood Avenue, waiting for Abby. She had called earlier in the morning to arrange a meeting. He figured she needed to see him to discuss Honeywell’s arrest. Additional details might make the end of the nightmare seem more real. He could have made an excuse. He could have called to cancel. But in truth, he wanted to see her.
Arriving early, Alex used the opportunity to see if Lilith had taken the bait. So far, it didn’t look promising. He ran his fingers across his chin as he read the next message.
“That’s not a happy face,” Abby said, standing beside his chair.
He smiled reflexively. She looked lovely. The dark circles under her eyes had faded, and a faint pink glow warmed her cheeks. He stood to give her a quick but awkward hug. The sling around his arm made him twist around her.
“How are you doing?” Abby nodded toward his arm. Her eyes brimmed with worry.
“You know, I’m fine. Can I get you a coffee?”
“Actually, I was wondering if we could take a walk.” Her blue eyes strayed to the window before moving back to his.
“Sure, just give me a sec.”
It took him a few minutes to empty his coffee and pack up his computer. It wouldn’t be much longer, only a few more days, before he could ditch the sling. It couldn’t come fast enough for Alex. Aside from the general inconvenience of having to master the one-handed task, he was tired of answering the constant stream of questions. People meant well, but sometimes he wished they could just mind their own damned business.
“Got everything?”
The sky overhead was a patchwork of dappled gray. Although no rain had fallen yet, it didn’t look far off. A gentle wind ruffled Abby’s hair around her pretty face, and she kept her eyes down, as if studying the sidewalk intently. Alex waited for her to speak. They’d walked two blocks before she said the first word.
“I can’t believe that Natalie’s gone. I still expect to see her whenever I go to Mom and Dad’s place.” She raised her chin but kept her eyes trained ahead. “I don’t know how long it takes to accept the truth.”
“How are your parents doing?”
“They’re okay. Better now that Honeywell is in custody.” She peeked up at him from the corner of her eye. “We have you to thank for that.”
Alex’s stomach lurched as their eyes met. He quickly looked away. Although it was true that they had finally apprehended Honeywell, there was a part of him that wondered if they could have done more to save Natalie. For him, this would never feel like a victory.
“Glad we tracked him down. At least he won’t be free to hurt anyone else.”
Abby nodded, and Alex could see the tears filling her eyes. He stopped and enveloped her in another awkward hug. She clung to him, arms wrapped around his waist. She looked up, and their eyes caught. And this time, he didn’t look away.
The feel of her in his arms was so achingly familiar. So right. And, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, she rose up on her toes and their lips met.
It was not the peck on the cheek that passed between friends. There was no mistaking the intention of the kiss, and Alex stood rooted to the spot, the taste of her lips familiar. Achingly familiar. And Alex responded, leaning forward to deepen the kiss. Her soft lips parted beneath his, and everyt
hing else fell away. There was only her.
After roughly three seconds of head-spinning insanity, reason prevailed. As much as part of him wanted to suspend reality, he knew what giving into his impulses would mean. There would be consequences. For him. And for Abby.
It wasn’t fair. He couldn’t let his doubts about Jill cloud his judgment.
With his good hand, Alex gripped her shoulder before gently pulling away. Her blue eyes pierced his with a searching look before the blood rushed into her cheeks, staining them red. She looked down quickly. He could read the embarrassment on her face as she took a hasty step backward.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was barely audible over the sound of the cars passing by. “I didn’t think …”
“It’s okay, Abby. But you’ve got to know that this can’t happen. Not now. Neither of us could live with the consequences.” Alex kept a steady grip on her shoulder until she met his eyes again. He couldn’t stop his finger from touching her soft cheek. With a small nod, she pulled out of his grasp, folding her arms into a tight knot against her chest.
“I know. It’s just that everything is so screwed up. I guess I’ve always kind of wondered. You know—if there was something left between us. I’m sorry.”
She looked mortified.
He had wondered that, too. But telling her how he felt wouldn’t help either of them. If anything, it would only complicate the situation more. And she deserved better.
Cupping the back of her head with his hand, he pressed his lips to her fragrant hair. For a brief moment, he closed his eyes and savored the sweet smell of peaches before he released his grip on her.
“It’s going to be okay, you know? It may not seem like it now, but you’ll find a way through this.”
Unshed tears shimmered in her eyes. She cleared her throat, and her head nodded in jerky movements. She blinked.
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