“Can’t do it,” Sylvie said. “Orders from the captain. The official line is that it’s a crazy woman’s story without an ounce of truth. After she ran, I took her theory to the top. No dice.”
“You explained what she received? The note? The obituaries?”
“I did. Captain Sanchez didn’t bite. Your friend said the murderer had killed Phoebe Bailey who danced in the Quarter. Evidence points to one of her more enthusiastic clients, who followed her to her job at the menagerie. A john strangled her, not a serial killer.”
Gabriel shook his head. “I heard enough from Erin to start following my nose, Sylvie.” Gabriel took the three steps to Sylvie’s desk and bent close. “She’s on to something. And he’s coming after her. Let me take a look at the homicide files from the past few months.”
“I don’t want any trouble, kiddo. You start writing about this like it’s real, and the loonies will really go over the bend. Copycats and whatnot. Plus, the captain will have my badge.”
“Or I can dispel the theory. Give us four hours, Sylvie. Please?”
“This could get me in some deep trouble, Gabriel. Bad enough if I let you in, but you want to bring the doctor?”
“I’ll make you a hero, Sylvie. You know I won’t let you down. That’s why you love me.”
Sylvie grunted. “I love you ’cause you’re the spitting image of your daddy. And ’cause I promised Nadia I’d look after you.”
“And you’ve done an excellent job.”
She considered her options, which weren’t many. If she ignored the possibility of a serial killer and more died, she’d have to live with that for the rest of her life. That would be harder than unemployment. “I get first look at what you find?”
“Absolutely.”
Sylvie studied him, weighing the possibilities. She could say no, and Gabriel would simply find another person to get him his information. Or she could say yes and maybe make the biggest collar of her career.
“Tonight. Nine p.m. If you’re a second late, boy, the deal is off.”
“Gotcha.”
“Then get.”
CHAPTER 14
“Come down, Erin. We’re going on a trip.” Gabriel leaned against the apartment building’s redbrick sidewall and spoke into the intercom.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” came the quiet response.
He could hear the hesitation in her voice as it emerged tinny from the metal box. More subtle was the undertone of defeat. He wouldn’t allow her to cave in, Gabriel thought, to let a madman win.
Alert, Gabriel turned as Erin pushed open the lobby door. She stopped and double-checked the security plate for the red light to indicate the door had locked behind her. She’d changed clothes from earlier, he discovered quickly. The oversize outfit had been replaced by slim-fitting black pants, black shoes, and a black T-shirt that snugged over generous curves. The silky ebony hair he longed to dip his hands into again had been confined once more, but this time into a tumble of curls secured at her nape.
The transformation was breathtaking. When he realized he’d been holding his own, he forced himself to speak. “You look like you’re ready to scale walls or break and enter.”
Pausing beside him, she said, “I decided I should dress for anything.” She reached the derelict Jeep and lifted the handle. Once. Twice. After the third failed attempt to open the door, she shot a glance over her shoulder at an attentive Gabriel. “I assume there’s a trick to the door?”
Gabriel pushed away from the wall and ambled forward. Around him, night had settled over St. Bennett, but the lamplight splintered golden over Erin’s sexy face. The arched brow spoke clearly of her disdain for his vehicle. He jangled the car keys gripped in his hand beneath her nose. With deadpan delivery, he explained, “A trick to the door? Well, unlocking it seems to help.”
Erin bit back a retort and tried to step aside to give him access. Simultaneously Gabriel moved closer and reached past her to the lock. His arm caged her between him and the frame, and their bodies brushed for an interminable instant. Then the key turned easily in the slot and he opened the door. When he grasped her elbow to help her inside, she started at the touch.
Heat radiated everywhere, reminding her of their earlier embrace. Spice and sandalwood teased her senses and she remembered the piquant flavor of his kiss. The strength of his arms arching her into him. Forcing herself to ignore the cascade of sensation, she slid quickly across the cracked leather seat, snatched the seat belt across her shoulder, and primly folded hands that itched to touch in her lap.
Giving in to the appeal of Gabriel Moss was a mistake she did not intend to repeat.
He closed the door and circled the bonnet. Once inside the Jeep, he echoed her movements. The engine roared to life with a rumble of sound. Plumes of smoke spurted out behind them, and the smell of gas and carbon monoxide seeped inside.
“I don’t think I’ve really noticed your car before.” Erin looked dubiously around the battered interior. Duct tape stretched in patches across the seat. Plastic peeled from the console and, if her eyes didn’t deceive her, dental floss held the radio faceplate in place. “Does it pass emissions tests?”
“Her name is Betty and she’s as trustworthy as an old hound.” Deciding not to take offense, Gabriel deftly levered the gear into drive and headed toward the Eighth District Police Station. Betty purred, then coughed. He fed a little more gas, and the coughing subsided. The Jeep gained speed as he whipped through the thoroughfares that separated neighborhoods from the center city. “I talked to Sylvie. She’ll let us look at the homicide files.”
“Exactly how close are you?” Erin’s tone left little doubt about her thoughts on the matter.
Gabriel chuckled softly. “I’ve known her since I was a baby. She was my mother’s best friend.”
“Was?”
“Gen and I lost both our parents last year.”
“I’m sorry,” she offered awkwardly. “I didn’t know.”
“I still miss them. They were remarkable. Strong, sturdy. Mom had the business skills. Dad was a dreamer. They met at the Chronicle. Mom ran the ad department, and my father edited the arts section. Somehow, he became the managing editor.”
Companionably, he covered her hand, toying absently with her fingers. She didn’t pull away. “Like father, like son.”
Gabriel smiled, watching the road. “Not quite. Dad enjoyed the pace of New Orleans. The familiarity. Tourists flowed in like flotsam, but the real people of the city were his favorites. I preferred to roam. Had notebook, would travel.”
“Did they mind?”
“No. They clipped every article. Kept a scrapbook. One on me and one for Gen.”
“Your family sounds lovely.”
“I miss them.” Shaking off the melancholy, he stopped at a red light and asked, “What about you, Erin?” He wondered if the reticence was the result of a cold, isolated upbringing. Or maybe a tempestuous marriage ended by bitter divorce. “Where’s your family?”
It was astonishing to see the shades fall over the toffeecolored eyes, any trace of expression banished.
“I don’t talk about my family,” she said evenly. Calmly she removed her hand and folded her arms across her chest. Out of his reach. “Detective Iberville believes me?”
“Where did you go just then? When I asked you about your family?”
“Did you tell her about the second note?” Erin replied stubbornly.
“Erin Abbott as Athena.” At her quizzical look, he went on, “Popped into the world fully formed. No parents, no past. Except that a killer wants you dead and I know you came from somewhere.”
“For tonight, Gabriel, please just leave it alone.”
He watched the road ahead with his mouth thinned. “I’ve taken a great deal on faith here, Erin.”
“I didn’t ask—”
He cut her off, anger boiling over. “No, you wouldn’t ask, would you? But you do need. You need friends, you need protection, and you need help. And I d
on’t have any choice but to give it to you. Because he will kill you if we don’t find him first.”
The truth hung between them, and he decided she would have all of it.
“I’m falling in love with a woman I barely know. A woman with a secret in her past so terrible, she can’t allow herself to live.” He skimmed his eyes over her profile for an instant, hoping to see some response. Some sign that he wasn’t falling alone.
Through the windows that never quite shut, he could hear the first beats of the nightly party unfolding on Bourbon Street. Sultry trumpets dared hard percussion to perform the rhythms that coursed through human veins like heady wine. The same rhythms called out to him from Erin, he knew with absolute confidence, but she was having none of it.
“I have nothing to offer you, Gabriel. That is the truth.”
Methodically he curled his fingers around the steering wheel, easing the violence coursing through him. Because, beneath her icy rejection, he heard the longing. It was reflected in the way her muscles melted like wax beneath his touch, the way her husky voice caught.
But, regardless of their connection, a more sinister song played its cadence to her.
He had every intention of learning its history.
In silence, they rode the remainder of the distance to the station, each occupied by thoughts of the other. Gabriel parked in the police officers’ lot and killed the engine.
“This lot is restricted,” Erin felt compelled to point out. “Police only.”
Gabriel shrugged. “They won’t tow me. They know my car.” He led her inside the station and was greeted by the on-duty desk clerk. The young man pointed to the secured entryway. “Jeep’s out back, Calvin. Make sure it stays, will you?”
“Sure thing, Gabe. Detective Iberville said to send you on back.”
Erin trailed behind Gabriel as he wound his way through the cacophony of the floor. Criminals and police alike called out friendly greetings, which he cheerfully returned. A particularly attractive lady of the night cooed with pleasure at the sight of him.
He halted beside where the woman, who appeared scarcely out of her teens, sat in a folding chair beside an officer’s desk. Bending, Gabriel gallantly kissed the slim hand she offered. Ugly bruises marred café au lait skin stretched taut over fleshless bone. “Lindy, love, what happened to the job as a stenographer? I thought we’d gotten you fixed up with Jim Anderson’s shop.”
“Nine to five isn’t really my thing, you know.” She dropped her head to stare at gold sandals, one missing a heel. The short cap of curls left her neck bare, and Erin started at the sight of finger marks around the slender throat. “Plus, Donovan didn’t like my change of occupation.”
“Did he do this?” Gabriel tenderly brushed at the purpling welts across her jaw. “Where is he?”
“Mr. Donovan is in lockup,” Detective Sylvie Iberville, who had joined them, explained. She covered the hand he’d fisted out of Lindy’s sight warningly. “He’ll stay there if Ms. Nicollo decides to press charges.”
“How about it, Lindy?” Closing off rage, he knelt beside the girl, bringing their eyes level. “We talked about this. You can’t let him treat you this way.”
Defeat glimmered behind tears she was too tired to shed. “I don’t deserve no better, Gabe. It’s not like I’m gonna find a man like you.” The self-mocking laughter shook narrow shoulders. “Like Donovan says, I’m his.”
Echoes of Nathan’s tirades filled Erin’s ears. She’d listened and believed. For too long.
“No, you’re not.” Erin bent at the waist, her words sharp and insistent. “No one owns you. You are nobody’s property.”
Lindy cocked her head and sized up the lovely young woman wearing real sapphires at her ears. The sheen of class was almost blinding, and one look at how Gabriel watched her made Lindy ache with longing. Here was a woman who’d never had to scrounge for a meal or a man. Envy rippled through Lindy and she asked bitterly, “What do you know about it, lady?”
“As much as you,” Erin replied quietly, staring at Lindy’s angry, battered face. She missed the looks exchanged over her head and the dangerous sparks in stormy eyes. Her only thought was rescue. In a low voice, she spoke only to Lindy. “He tells you you’re nothing without him. That you’ll die without him. And when you try to leave, he finds you, doesn’t he? Hauls you back inside and punishes you for trying to leave.” Until you don’t think there’s anywhere else to go.
Lindy cradled her throbbing cheek in her hand. Tears pricked eyes that hadn’t cried in too long. “So? I owe him. He made me.”
“He made you a whore.” Lindy flinched at the description, and Gabe moved forward in protest. A single glare from Erin stopped him. She knew every word she spoke to the battered girl risked exposing her secret to Gabriel, but once more, it was about choices. Someone had to make Lindy see hers, to loan her the courage to decide what she wanted from her life.
“He made you a whore,” she repeated. “But you’re better than that.”
“What? Being a typist for some lawyers who’ll make fun of me?”
“No. By being a woman who can take care of herself.”
“What do you know?”
“I know Gabriel is a good judge of character, and he sees something in you. Sometimes, we can’t trust our own vision. We have to see the good another sees in us.” Like Sebastian had done for her. “Gabriel sees the good. Trust his sight until you can trust your own.”
Lindy’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know how to do it.”
Urgent now, Erin brought Lindy to her shoulder. “If you don’t let them help you, he’ll take everything from you. Not just your dignity and your courage and your selfrespect. He’ll take your life, Lindy.”
The appeal was muffled against her shirt, but Erin could feel the plea. “But how can I—”
She straightened her arms to hold Lindy upright. “File the report. Let the detective help you. Let Gabriel help you.” Erin fished her wallet from her purse but saw only credit cards. Without a second thought, she unclasped the sapphires from her lobes and held them out. “Let me help you.”
“My God, lady. I can’t take these.” Lindy balled her fingers to keep from snatching at the earrings.
“Fine,” Erin said. “Then I’ll buy your services with them. One,” she clarified as she set the stone in the trembling palm, “is for tonight. File the police report.”
Detective Iberville interrupted. “You can’t buy a police report, Dr. Abbott. It’s against the law.”
“Then turn around and pretend you don’t see us,” Erin said. Turning her attention back to Lindy, she swung the second blue drop in front of her. “Bring me a copy of the report to Burkeen University, and this one is yours. Do we have a deal?”
Lindy hesitated.
“Right now, Lindy. Yes or no. Do we have a deal?” The tone brooked no arguments.
The girl nodded shortly, then bobbed her head in quick agreement. “Yeah.”
“My office.” Erin slid a business card from her wallet. She gracefully rose and extended a hand. Lindy clasped it between both of hers.
“All right.”
Detective Iberville motioned to a uniform. “Take Ms. Nicollo’s statement and drop her off at home. Move Mr. Donovan to the violent offenders’ holding pen.” The uniformed officer shifted behind the desk and pulled up a program on the computer. The detective motioned at them to follow her. Erin fell in step behind her, and Gabriel stooped and pressed a kiss to Lindy’s cheek.
He followed behind Erin, perplexed. Who was this woman who had collided into his life? The lady kneeling beside the prostitute, sharing a pain he could never comprehend. The contrasts intrigued him. The vulnerability frightened him.
Gabriel breathed deeply and tried to quiet the fury seething in his belly. Like his next breath, he wanted to find the man who’d put such terrible knowledge in Erin’s voice and beat penance from him. But it was too soon to demand answers, though the need snarled inside him. He wasn’t s
ure it wouldn’t spill out and maim them both.
Sylvie led them past her office and down a flight of stairs. In the basement of the building, rows of locked doors waited with alarm panels. She keyed in a code at the second door, marked: CENTRAL FILES, and ushered them inside. Overhead, the naked bulb of the file room cast gloomy shadows, an atmosphere not at all lightened by the nature of the room’s contents. Organized by date, open homicides stood sentinel in silent rows.
“You’ve got two hours, Gabe. I’m off at eleven-thirty.”
“Gotcha.”
“And everything stays down here. Take notes but nothing else,” she warned.
“It was one time, Sylvie,” protested Gabriel. “And I brought it back.”
“Nothing leaves here, Gabe.” With that warning, she exited the room, locking them in alone.
CHAPTER 15
Gabriel set his bag on the single table in the room and surveyed the space. Years of hunting through these files made delegation easy. “I’ll pull the files on the murders we have. Take March,” he instructed, pointing at a wide horizontal cabinet four stacks deep. “Look for the missing murder victims. The files contain police reports, photos of evidence, and miscellaneous information. Because most of it is on computer now, they use these files as backup only.” He met her eyes for the first time. “You did good with Lindy. Thank you.” Then he walked over to his cabinet and began to read.
Erin exhaled, not ready to answer questions about what she’d revealed in the bullpen. Instead, she pulled her assigned drawer open and began thumbing through the maroon folders. Thirty minutes later, she was no closer to finding their answers. Frustrated, she asked, “Can’t we get access to their computer system? This is archaic.”
“This is as good as it gets. Sylvie’s taking a huge risk letting us come down here.”
Never Tell Page 14