Conduit

by Angie Martin

  “Thank you.”

  “Just get that report in and then relax until Friday. This will be a big trial for us both.”

  Jake wondered if Nathan was talking about the courtroom trial, or that of Nathan letting go of his ex so she could date another man. Jake stood up again. “I appreciate everything.”

  “Just keep making me look good.”

  “Of course.” He turned to leave, relieved but still a bit concerned about revealing his secret to Nathan.

  “And Jake,” Nathan said, his voice stopping Jake at the door. “Don’t hurt her. That’s the only thing I demand of you. Don’t hurt her.”

  “I’m not that kind of guy.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Dean Sheila Reynolds was much more forthcoming with the security tapes than Lionel predicted. She complied with Detective Aurelio’s request to provide every tape they wanted, eliminating the need for a subpoena.

  Lionel spent the afternoon going back and forth between the officers scouring the security tapes and Shawn, who worked with other officers on determining a secondary snatch location for each victim. If they could find the killer’s backup location to take each victim, they might get lucky with additional witnesses or security tapes.

  So far all prospects looked dim and Lionel’s frustration grew with every passing minute. The excitement from seeing the killer on tape earlier in the morning had long since vanished. They now had more dead ends than leads.

  Lionel had called Barbara a few hours earlier to give her the news that he would not be home for dinner. In keeping with her good nature, Barbara didn’t allow the slightest hint of disappointment to seep into her voice. She promised to keep the security alarm activated, and he promised to check in with her regularly. Sitting at his desk now, poring over Lucy Kim’s autopsy report for the hundredth time that day, he wished he was at home with his wife.

  Shawn’s phone rang and he snatched up the receiver. After a cryptic one-sided conversation, he hung up the phone. “They just finished checking out the secondary snatch location for Morgan Grier.”

  Earlier that day, they discovered where the killer might have planned to take Morgan if his initial plan of taking her outside her martial arts studio at night didn’t work. Her fiancé let officers know that every morning Morgan ran ten miles along the same route she had used for years.

  Lionel lowered his reading glasses down to the tip of his nose and peered at Shawn over the tops of the lenses. “What did they find?”

  “No cameras,” Shawn said. “Well, there are stoplight cameras, but they aren’t functioning yet. They’re more of a scare tactic than for actual use.”

  “Just our luck.”

  Shawn lifted his eyes toward their office window and knocked on his desk to get Lionel’s attention. “Better look busy,” he said, pointing toward the window.

  Lionel turned his head and yanked his glasses off his face. Through the large window that gave him a view of the homicide detectives under his command, he watched Barbara walk toward his office. She balanced an aluminum tray on top of a kitchen towel in her arms and a paper bag dangled from one hand. She fended off nosy detectives trying to steal away the treats she carried.

  “If you’re working overtime, you better convince the wife there’s a good reason.”

  “A serial killer is always a good reason for overtime,” Lionel said. He held open his office door for Barbara. “What brings you over here?” he asked, taking the paper bag out of her hand.

  “No, ‘Hello, hi babe, how was your day?’” she said.

  “Hello, hi babe, how was your day?”

  “That’s much better.” She set the tray down on the desk, ensuring it rested evenly on the kitchen towel.

  “Barbara, you didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” Shawn said.

  “Oh, yes I did.” She wagged a finger at them. “You boys don’t need to eat any junk from the vending machines tonight. Or worse yet, skip dinner altogether.”

  Lionel swept her close and kissed her. “You’re the best wife a man could ever ask for.”

  Shawn cleared his throat. “That remains to be seen.”

  Lionel let go of Barbara, while she glared at Shawn.

  “What?” Shawn shrugged. “I haven’t seen what you brought us for supper yet. That’s the true determination of a great wife.”

  Barbara smiled. “You won’t be disappointed, I promise.” She moved to the aluminum tray and uncovered lasagna. Mouth-watering steam wafted up from the perfectly cooked pasta with extra mozzarella dripping around homemade sauce.

  “There’s enough here to feed the whole division,” Shawn said.

  “That’s the idea,” Barbara said. “Fresh garlic rolls are wrapped in foil in the bag along with some brownies, but there’s only enough of that for the two of you.”

  “They will be gone before anyone else finds out about the lasagna,” Lionel said.

  “Good boy,” Barbara said. She turned to Shawn and placed her hand on his shoulder. “And what do you have planned for dinner Friday night?”

  “I suppose I’m eating at your house.”

  “That’s the answer I was looking for. You’ve been looking a little scrawny lately. Someone has to keep you fed and healthy.”

  “You’re too much, Barbara,” Shawn said. “It’s appreciated, as always.”

  “Show your appreciation by being there on time for once,” she said. “Seven o’clock and no excuses will be accepted for being late. If you boys have to work after dinner, then you can do it in the den with full stomachs.”

  “I’ll make sure he leaves the office when I do so he can’t be late,” Lionel said.

  “I was only an hour late last time and it was because of a case,” Shawn said. “Leo can vouch for me on that.”

  Lionel held up his hands. “You’re on your own. I have to answer to her when I’m late, and so do you.”

  “Just come home to me safe and you don’t have to answer for a thing,” Barbara said.

  “Are you sure you don’t have a sister?” Shawn asked, not for the first time. “Younger, of course.”

  Barbara winked at him. “I don’t have a sister, but I know lots of younger women that would be perfect for you.”

  “Go get us some plates and forks,” Lionel told Shawn.

  “Thanks again, Barbara,” Shawn said. “I’ll see you Friday night.” He gave her a peck on the cheek and left the office.

  Barbara smiled and nodded. She turned back to Lionel. “A few minutes alone?” she asked.

  He wrapped his arms around her again. “It’s much needed,” he said. He kissed her tenderly. “Once this case is over, we’re taking a vacation. A nice, long vacation.”

  “As great as that sounds, I’d rather we save for the Alaskan cruise you promised me for our anniversary next year.”

  “Twenty-five years is quite an accomplishment,” he said. “I think we can swing both. We’ll just stay a little bit closer to home for this trip.”

  “I love you, Detective Edwards.” She leaned in for another kiss. “Please come home soon.”

  “I won’t be much longer tonight, I promise. Thank you for everything.”

  Barbara laughed. “It’s just lasagna.”

  “Not just the lasagna and not just inviting Shawn over for dinner. Thanks for being so understanding about me working late every night.”

  “Don’t forget working early every morning. And every weekend, too.”

  “Yeah, all that,” Lionel said.

  “It’s part of being married to you. Plus you’ll make it up to me on our vacation.”

  “That I will,” he said.

  “Speaking of which, you better get back to it so you can get home before dawn.” Barbara let go of him and dug her car keys out of her purse.

  “Let me walk you to the car.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said.

  Lionel glanced at Lucy Kim’s autopsy report on his desk. “Yes, I do.”

  Chapter Twenty-sev
en

  Jake arrived at Emily’s house ten minutes early. He pressed the doorbell and hoped he wasn’t too early. He clutched the dozen red roses in his hand like a security blanket held by a child curling up in the dark, frightened of monsters lurking under the bed and in the closet. His monsters were commitment and, even more terrifying, love.

  Emily posed a threat to his way of life and inability to open himself up to others. Breaking through chains and destroying walls, she left his emotions in rubble with his heart unprotected. She was unaware of the effect she had on him, so he couldn’t tell her to stop, and he didn’t want her to. Jake enjoyed his taming.

  He raised his hand to touch the bell once more when the knob turned and the door swung open. Jake caught his breath as he took in her appearance. Her clothes were on the dressy side of casual, with a forest green short-sleeved top that flared at the waist, a pair of dark blue jeans, and a pair of black high heeled sandals that revealed perfectly pedicured toes painted in red. Emily had taken the time to curl her hair and refresh her makeup since their lunch date. Her large smile lit up her eyes.

  Jake lifted the roses to her as a hello.

  Emily accepted the flowers. “Thank you,” she said. “You really shouldn’t have.”

  He shrugged. “They were in the bargain bin. I didn’t want the poor things to be thrown out.”

  She laughed. “I suppose it wouldn’t be right to risk the lives of innocent roses,” she said. Stepping back, she ushered him inside.

  The aroma of savory spices filled the foyer. “Smells amazing,” Jake said.

  “I thought we’d go with roasted pork and potatoes with homemade cinnamon applesauce tonight. Hopefully you’re okay with that. I should have asked if you have any allergies or if you are just generally opposed to anything.”

  “It all sounds fantastic,” he said. “But I want to know how you have time to make homemade applesauce with your work schedule.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of buying applesauce in a jar. You won’t either after you taste it homemade.”

  Jake smiled in response. He was sure she was right.

  “I need to get these in a vase before they wither. I wouldn’t want that to happen after your display of heroism by rescuing them.”

  He followed her down the hall and into the living room. The environment relaxed him, and he explored the room while Emily wandered off to put the flowers in a vase. The walls displayed large, framed photographs of sunsets and the vaulted ceiling with wood beams made the room feel much larger than it was. The cream colored couch matched the recliner beside it, and both faced toward the flat screen television contained within an oversized wood stand.

  In the corner next to a round glass table sat a wooden rocking chair with a flowered pad in the seat. An old patchwork quilt hung over the back of the rocking chair. The colorful mix of stripes and polka dots reminded him of quilts that were around his childhood home.

  Of all the items in the room, the rocking chair called to him. From its placement in the living room down to the way the quilt was arranged on its back, the chair’s presence exuded a sense that it was more special than any other material object in her home.

  When he reached the chair, he noticed an ornate silver picture frame on the small glass table next to it. He picked up the picture and stared at the woman standing in a yard next to a little girl in pigtails against the backdrop of a large oak tree. The black and white of the photograph didn’t allow him to see the color of the girl’s dress.

  The girl clinging onto the woman’s leg with one arm reflected her love and trust for the woman. The girl held a Popsicle in her other hand and drippings from the melting treat trickled down her fingers. A large smile lit the woman’s face, and her loving, protective hand rested on the back of the girl’s head. From his conversations with Emily, he knew who these two people were and the origin of the rocking chair.

  Jake turned at the sound of Emily behind him. She walked up until she stood beside him, and her arm brushed against his. Her touch set his heart ablaze, but he refrained from spinning toward her and kissing her.

  He held the picture up to her. “This must be your Aunt Susan and you as a child,” he said. “And this is her rocking chair and a quilt she made.”

  “She started making the quilt when she found out my mom was pregnant with me.” Melancholy laced her voice. “I know it’s been years, but I still miss her so much. She was such a kind woman, a beautiful woman.”

  Jake handed her the photo. “I’m sure she was, the same as you.”

  Emily held his eyes with hers, and she reached for the picture. Their hands touched as she took the frame and Jake couldn’t help himself any longer. He lowered his head and met her lips with a tender kiss.

  When she broke away from him, she graced him with a smile. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Just for being here tonight.” She gave him another quick, delicate kiss.

  Jake smiled as they parted. He looked back at the table, while Emily replaced the picture frame. He picked up a crossword puzzle book from the table. “Easy Crossword Puzzles,” he read.

  She grimaced. “I love crosswords, but I’m not very good at the harder ones. This lets me pretend I’m smarter.”

  Jake laughed. “You don’t need a crossword puzzle to show how smart you are.” He flipped open the book to the place where a pen marked her spot. The crossword had several letters rewritten throughout the puzzle, almost to the point that the pen’s tip cut through the paper. “You seem to have struggled with this one a bit,” he teased.

  Emily snatched the book out of his hand. “I told you I wasn’t any good at them,” she said. “And pointing out my mistakes negates the purpose of the easy crossword puzzles.”

  “You’re the smartest girl I know,” Jake said.

  “So you know smarter boys than me?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  She set the book back down on the table. “We better eat before dinner gets cold.”

  He followed her into the dining room. The glass table had two settings on white linen placemats. Two wine glasses were filled with white wine, next to water glasses with lemon wedges pressed down on the rim. Wicks glowed with bouncing flames from two white tapered candles in the middle of the table. The roses he brought her soaked up water in a crystal vase on the side of the table.

  She turned to Jake, looking concerned. “Too much?” she asked.

  “I never thought I would say this about a candlelight dinner, but no, it’s not too much. It’s rather perfect.” He smiled and looked back at her. “Of course a backyard barbeque with t-shirts and beer would also be perfect, as long as you’re there.”

  “That’s a little cheesy.”

  “Yeah, but you make me cheesy.”

  “Then I guess I’ll have to learn to deal with it,” she said.

  She led him into the kitchen, which was just as homey as the rest of the house and the source of the delicious fragrances. She handed him a white china dinner plate and gestured toward the spread of food on the counter.

  At her insistence, Jake heaped food onto his plate and waited until she had a plateful of food before heading back to the dining room. He laid his plate down on the far place setting and, in keeping with the semi-formal décor, returned to the other side of the table to pull out the chair for her.

  Emily laughed. “Next time we’re having that barbeque.”

  “Sounds good to me,” he said.

  He returned to his seat and, before lifting his utensils to eat, he took in her beauty beneath the allure of the candle flames. In only two days, Emily had accomplished what no other woman ever could. She captivated him like no one else and the more he learned about her, the more she hypnotized him. He always knew he would eventually meet her, the woman he had been searching for, but now that she sat in front of him, he thought he must be dreaming.

  He reached his hand across the table, palm up. She placed her hand in his and electricity shot through his
arm, just as it did every time they touched. “Thank you so much for having me here tonight.” He squeezed her hand.

  She returned the squeeze. “I’m hoping that we’ll have more nights like this.”

  “There’s not a doubt in my mind that we will.”

  Throughout dinner, they exchanged vague tales of cases they worked, since both were bound by confidentiality. Emily seemed engrossed in everything he had to say, while Jake was simply entranced by her presence. As they ate, they exchanged glances and smiles across the table like schoolchildren flirting in the cafeteria.

  After they finished eating, Jake declined a second helping of dinner while assuring her that he loved everything she prepared. Emily rose from the table and retrieved a bottle of wine from the kitchen. “You always seem to know what to say when it comes to our abilities,” she said, topping off his wine glass. “I can tell you deal very well with these things.”

  “With what things?”

  Emily placed the bottle at the edge of the table and went back to her seat. “The things people like us have to deal with. Why is that?”

  “I took a couple of years off between high school and college. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, but this gift we have made me question everything, so I traveled. I wanted to find others like us and learn as much as I could.” Jake hesitated as he formed his next words. He did not want to inadvertently insult Emily. “I’ve met enough people like us to know that we tend to follow a disturbing pattern.”

  “A pattern?” Emily asked.

  “For the most part, we’re somewhat reclusive. We think that anyone who finds out about us will automatically judge us and deem us crazy. I used to be like that myself, but then I realized I didn’t want to spend my life following that pattern.”

  “I follow that pattern, don’t I?”

  “It’s not a bad thing,” Jake said. “To a point, we do have to be secretive. We can’t run around the streets shouting to the world that we’re psychic. I can’t tell my friends or coworkers, but that doesn’t mean I have to alter my lifestyle for fear of being found out.”