Debra Webb's Blog, page 12

RUTHLESS is HOT! And so is our new Faces of Evil suspect! Comment to win!

RUTHLESS is smokin’ and that is thanks to all of you! I am so thrilled and sincerely appreciate all my loyal readers! Before I introduce ournewest suspect for your interrogation, let me remind all of you that RUTHLESS is out there! Get your copy now! Book 7, VICIOUS, is available for preorder in the Kindle format on Amazon at this very moment! Not to worry, it will be available in all other formats, including paperback, closer to the release date (November 25)! But if you’re a Kindle reader,...

Get RUTHLESS…VICIOUS is coming! Comment to win!

Happy, happy Friday! Be sure to leave a comment today! One lucky commenter is going to win a Faces of Evil tee-shirt and an autographed copy of RUTHLESS!

I have lots of news to share! First, RUTHLESS is now available so don’t wait! Go to your nearest bookstore (online or brick and mortar) and get your copy of RUTHLESS! If the big release day wasn’t enough excitement this week, I learned yesterday that the Dangerous Desires box set made the USA Today list! I have been celebrating ever since! If...

Final Sneak Peek at RUTHLESS! Win the first six books in the Faces of evil series!

Just THREE MORE days until RUTHLESS goes on sale! Book six in the Faces of Evil series will be on sale everywhere on Tuesday! To celebrate there’s a very special prize today! An autographed copy of the first six books in the series! Be sure to leave a comment! That’s the only way to win!

Chapter 3

Pelham, 1:05 p.m.

“I spent thirty years with Alabama Power.” Lawrence Patrick leaned back in his rocker. “Went to work there right out of the Army. I’d just turned twenty-two.”

Jess had learned that in...

Ready to get more RUTHLESS?! Chapters 3 & 4 and Book Giveaway!

I can’t believe it’s only TEN MORE days until RUTHLESS goes on sale! Be sure to leave a comment today! I’ll be giving away a copy of REVENGE (in paperback) and a copy of BONE DEEP and SEE HER DIE for your Kindle!

Chapter 3

City Records, 5:30 p.m.

“Here we go.” Lori rolled the library-style ladder to the row of upper shelves where she’d spotted the boxes marked with the case number corresponding to the Man in the Moon investigation.

Jess counted off the number of boxes involved. Holy cow! “We may...

First Sneak Peek at RUTHLESS! Book Giveaways!

Be sure to leave a comment today! I’ll be giving away a copy of REVENGE (in paperback) and a copy of BONE DEEPand SEE HER DIE for your Kindle!

I remember as a child hearing the stories about the Man in the Moon. I suppose we all did. If you’re like me—curious—you also wondered if he lived all alone up there on that big old moon. As we move to the sixth level in the Faces of Evil, we encounter a ruthlessness that hits so very close to home. Thirty-three years ago little girls started to go missing in Birmingham, Alabama. One each year around the harvest moon. You know, that’s the time when the moon seems closer to the earth. Some suggested that maybe the moon got so close that the man who lived there reached down and stole a child so he wouldn’t have to be alone anymore.

Read on for a first look at RUTHLESS which will be released on August 27!

 

RUTHLESS

Prologue

Birmingham, Monday, August 16, 10:45 p.m.

He waited until well after dark before setting out to do his work. It wasn’t a task to be done in the light of day.

No, this rotten burden was best carried out in the dark to hide his shame.

Yet nothing was hidden from God.

His raised his face heavenward. “I have no choice, Lord. Forgive me.”

He dropped to his knees beneath the burying tree. Thousands of trees stood all around him, but he knew this was the one. He had not visited this secret place in many years, but he knew it by heart. He skimmed the beam of his flashlight over the towering, gnarled Live Oak. Excitement pumped through his veins, and he cursed himself for allowing the vile reaction.

“Satan!” he growled. “Get thee behind me!”

He ripped open his shirt and reached for the obedience belt he wore. Gritting his teeth, he tightened the wide leather to the next notch. He screamed as the nails dug deeper into his flesh. With small, shallow breaths, he forced his body to relax and savor the agony of his failure.

Hands shaking, he fastened the buttons of his shirt. The sooner he was done with this, the better for all concerned.

He clicked off the light and set it aside. No need for light. The map of his treasures was emblazoned across his soul. He was as familiar with the texture and terrain of this place as he was his own body.

He swept aside nature’s blanket. The heat of dog days had caused the leaves to start to fall earlier than usual, but that was no hindrance. His fingers roved and caressed until he found the spot where he wanted to begin. He lifted the portable spade from his backpack and began the slow, tedious work of moving the rain-softened soil.

“Bless me, Father,” he implored, his teeth clenched against the searing pain of his every move, “for I have sinned.”

The shaking that had started in his hands traveled throughout his body as his pleading words grew more fervent. Thirteen years. Thirteen long years he had abstained from the sweet allure of his one true weakness. No matter how intense the urge, he had remained stoic. His life had changed, and with that change came the necessity to turn aside from the sinful lusting that had haunted him all his days.

Finally, he put the spade aside and closed his eyes. The rest he must do with his bare hands. A renewed thrill dared to trickle through him as the memories of the night he had tucked his prize in this place whispered through his mind. He prayed harder, fought the carnal sensations. He worked his fingers through the earth until he found her. His heart thundered so frantically he wondered if he would survive the coming moments.

He begged for death…but it did not come.

There was no choice but to continue.

He lifted the bundle from its earthen cradle, and his chest ached with the sheer effort of breathing. “Hello, precious one.” Scorching tears flowed down his cheeks as that old craving howled in the deepest recesses of his soul. “I’ve missed you so.”

 

Chapter 1

Birmingham Police Department, Tuesday, August 17, 10:00 a.m.

Her chest too tight for a decent breath, Jess Harris stared at the television mounted on the wall. The images of three young women, brunette and beautiful, remained frozen on the screen. The scroll beneath those bright, smiling faces urged anyone who recognized one or all to contact the FBI’s hotline.

Every news channel, website, and newspaper in the state was running the photos. The story, a tragic true-life reality show guaranteed to boost ratings, had been picked up by the national news. Fox, CNN, they all posed to the world the single question that burned in Jess’s brain:

Have you seen these women?

The Player had started a new game. And Jess was caught in the middle.

The Bureau was in charge of the case, since it involved their ongoing investigation into the serial killer known as the Player, a sadist who was suspected of having murdered countless young women already. Not to mention the two federal agents he and his protégé, Matthew Reed, had murdered last month.

Damn you, Spears…I will get you somehow.

This time the tables were turned. They knew the perpetrator, but they couldn’t identify the victims…and there was no way to predict when the crime would occur. The Bureau and every law enforcement agency in the state were on alert for a crime that hadn’t happened yet.

Jess glanced at her cell phone that lay, oddly silent, on the conference table. Spears had repeatedly turned her life upside down, starting with the demise of her career at the Bureau. And now, the bastard had sent the photos of those three women with a warning that one was about to become his first victim in a new game. Then he’d shut Jess out. She hadn’t heard a word from him since the package containing the photos arrived nearly forty-eight hours ago.

Eric Spears, aka the Player. She squared her shoulders and tried to clear the lump from her throat. No one, not even the Bureau, was denying that Spears was the Player now. Didn’t matter that Jess had told them weeks ago. She hadn’t been able to prove it. So here they were more than a month later, and Spears was out there, free to torture and murder whomever he pleased.

Starting with one of these young women.

Wherever Spears was, rather than communicating with her, he had one of his friends or a hired lackey watching Jess. The texts he’d sent last week proved that much. How else would he know to send Cheers when she was having a glass of wine? Or Bang right after some creep in a dark Infiniti sedan took a shot at her? And she couldn’t forget the fishing worms someone stashed in the fridge at her apartment. Are you going to fish or cut bait?

Spears had gone fishing all right. Jess had to find him…before anyone else died.

“Damn it!” She shoved back her chair and stood. She couldn’t just sit here.

From his desk, Chief of Police Dan Burnett swung his attention toward her. “What’s wrong?”

God, didn’t he get it? Everything was wrong. “You mean besides the fact that you won’t let me out of your sight even to do my job?”

His need to protect her had gone from excessive to completely unreasonable, numerous long and heartfelt talks be damned. No matter how Dan claimed to trust her abilities and instincts, no matter that she had warned him this incessant hovering was making them both look bad to the rest of the department, Spears had made a move and all that had gone out the window.

For the past hour Dan had been going over updates on open cases while she sat here at his conference table pretending to review reports from her detectives on cases she couldn’t investigate. She’d closed out the Five investigation yesterday with a full confession from the perpetrators of that travesty. This morning she’d pretty much been twiddling her damned thumbs.

Visibly resigned to a battle, Dan set aside the report he’d been reviewing and pushed back his chair. Those same grim lines he’d been wearing since Sunday were etched even deeper in his face.

Before she could outmaneuver him he stood in front of her, his strong hands curled around her upper arms, making her long to fall against his chest. Get a grip, Jess. Just went to show how crazy not being able to do something about Spears or anything else was making her.

“You’re worried sick,” he said softly. “I get that.”

Why the hell did he have to treat her as if she were made of glass? “No.” Tears stung her eyes, making her all the angrier. “You do not get it. At least one of those girls will die.”

Fear and anger tore at her heart, stealing her voice for a moment. “She’ll be tortured for days…until he grows weary of her and then she’ll die an ugly, brutal death.” A sharp breath stabbed through Jess. “And it’s all because of me.” Her hand went to her throat as if she could somehow hold back the hurt rising there. “I started this.”

She wished his blue eyes didn’t reflect so very accurately the fear and pain torturing her. This was ripping him apart, too. “Gant and his team are doing everything possible to identify and locate those women. They will find Spears.”

Jess choked out a laugh. She couldn’t help herself; the anguish was giving way to hysteria. “They won’t find him, much less stop him, Dan, you know that.”

This time he looked away. He couldn’t deny the truth any more than she could. Her lips started that confounded trembling again, and she couldn’t manage to summon the proper words to explain the rest of what needed to be said.

Someone would die soon…because of her.

Her heart pounded in her ears, ticking off the silent seconds. If he would just back off…give her some space…so she could do what needed to be done.

“All right.” He exhaled a heavy breath. “But you will not make a move without Sergeant Harper or Detective Wells right beside you. You will not go home or anywhere else without one of them or without me. Understood?” He shook his head, the look on his face dead serious. “No exceptions, Jess. No pretending this time that the danger isn’t real and imminent.”

Relief rushed through her so hard her knees almost gave way. “You have my word. You can put a tracking device in my bag. Whatever makes you feel comfortable.” Truth was, that wasn’t a bad idea. As desperately as she wanted to do something besides sit here, she understood the danger was all too real. And definitely imminent. As badly as she wanted to stop Spears, she didn’t want anyone to die in the process—including her.

The MO he was using this time around was similar to the games he’d played before, he’d simply taken a different and startling new strategy to get from selecting his victim to abducting her. Spears wasn’t playing with her this time. Jess sensed that cold, hard fact to the very core of her being. What did a killer who sat at the very top of the most evil scale do for a finale?

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Dan said, hauling her back to the here and now. “I’m assigning a surveillance detail to you 24/7.”

Daniel Burnett, her friend, lover, and boss—not necessarily in that order—wasn’t going to take any chances this go-around. He knew her a little too well. Jess had a habit of going rogue when the need arose.

“Whatever it takes. Cooperation will be my middle name,” she promised. As long as she got to get back to work and out from under his thumb.

He assessed her a moment longer before heading for his desk to put his warning into action. “You’ll keep me apprised of your every move.”

“Absolutely.” She felt like a bird just let out of its cage as she gathered her bag and files. “I’ll head on down to SPU now and let you get back to your work.” The Special Problems Unit and her office was just a short flight of stairs or a brief elevator ride away—the latter being her preferred method of getting from here to there. Four-inch heels and stairs just didn’t go well together.

Dan shook his head. “I’ll have Harper come get you.”

Her jaw dropped. She couldn’t move about inside the building, for heaven’s sake, without an escort? Before she could demand an answer to that question, Burnett—she was too mad now to keep calling him Dan, even in her mind—made the call.

Opting to choose her battles, she snapped her mouth shut and decided that getting her way with Harper would be a whole lot easier than trying to get anything over on Daniel T. Burnett. He was far too hardheaded and impossible to persuade into seeing things her way when any measure of risk was involved.

“Harper’s on his way.” He tossed his cell phone back on his desk. “Don’t make me regret this decision, Jess. I’m counting on you not to let me down.”

“I gave you my word.” If her record didn’t show otherwise she might be offended. But she had a well-documented history of doing things her own way regardless of instructions from her superiors. “Besides,” she added with a shrug, “I’ve never once disobeyed orders unless it was the best for the victim or the case. You can’t say otherwise.”

That part was the irrefutable truth.

Even her former employer, the Federal Bureau of Investigation, couldn’t claim she’d bent—or broken, more often than not—the rules without the best interest of the case at heart. There were some evils out there that simply couldn’t be stopped by the book. The Player was one of those.

Fortunately, a rap at the door prevented Dan’s pursuit of that topic.

Thank God.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Harper glanced from Burnett to Jess.

She gave her detective a nod sans the victorious smile now tugging at her lips and waited quietly, obediently, as Dan laid down the law. Her frustration dissipated faster than fog clearing beneath the rising sun as the reality that she was really getting out of this office-turned-prison seeped fully into her veins.

I will get you, Spears.

When Harper had been fully informed of his grave duty, he gave a nod without so much as another glance at Jess. “I understand, sir.”

Jess was out of the chief of police’s office and heading for freedom before Harper could turn around. She bypassed the elevator, since it was monitored by security, and she needed a word with her detective in private. She waited until she and Harper were in the stairwell headed down to SPU before voicing her request.

“I need a disposable phone, Sergeant.”

“Something wrong with your phone, ma’am?”

At the door to their floor she gave him a skeptical look. “You don’t want to know the answer to that. Just get me one I can use without anyone tracking it.”

“I’ll send Cook to Walmart.”

“Thank you.” She finally let that triumphant smile she’d been holding back make an appearance. “We have work to do.”

He gave her a nod. “Yes, ma’am.”

A kind of calm descended and Jess’s pulse rate steadied as she entered her own domain. Her small staff waited for her. SPU’s team consisted of her and only three others, and the floor space allotted for their offices was just one big room, but it was her unit and she couldn’t be happier for some sense of normalcy. The past forty or so hours had been unbearable.

“Good morning, Chief.” Detective Lori Wells looked as relieved to have her back as Jess felt at being here.

More so than anyone else at the BPD, Lori had as much reason as Jess to want Spears caught. His protégé, Reed, had kidnapped and tortured her just to lure Jess into a trap that mercifully fell apart, but not before people died.

“Good morning, Lori.” Jess gave her and then Officer Chad Cook, the youngest of their team, a nod. “Cook.”

“Ma’am,” Cook greeted. “We’ve missed you.”

A statement as simple as that shouldn’t have had her struggling to hold a fresh rush of emotion back, but it did. This was her new home and it felt exactly like that. A mere six months ago she wouldn’t have believed she would ever be back in Birmingham feeling like she belonged. But here she was and it felt right.

The television mounted on the wall opposite their case board was running the same news coverage as the one in Burnett’s office. Jess hoped someone out there would recognize those three women and call in. Soon. There was no way to know if one or all three were already missing or even where they lived. For now, the Bureau was focused on the state of Alabama, since the package containing the photos had been mailed from Montgomery. But the truth was they had no clue who or where these women were—they had nothing except the photos and the promise of bad things to come.

Spears was too smart to get caught easily. He had no doubt selected very carefully for this pivotal game. Women who were loners, maybe had no families. Women who wouldn’t be missed right away. That strategy would buy him the time he wanted to draw out the game.

Every step he took was judiciously calculated for optimal gain and leverage.

While Harper pulled Cook aside to give him his task, Jess parked her stuff on her desk and headed for the case board. Lori, with a manila folder in hand, joined her there.

“I was waiting until you got here to start.” Lori opened the folder and revealed copies of the photos of the unidentified women and a photo of Spears.

The unsavory combo of anxiety, fear, and frustration almost got the better of Jess again. “Thank you.” She was extremely lucky to have Lori and Harper on her team. Cook, too. The vacant desk reminded her that SPU was a member short since Valerie Prescott had moved on to the Gang Task Force.

A sense of foreboding churned in Jess’s belly. Captain Ted Allen, head of Birmingham’s Gang Task Force, was still missing. More than a week now. Whatever else she knew, Jess understood with complete certainty that his disappearance had something to do with her. Yet she couldn’t connect Allen’s disappearance with Spears and his game. Had to be the high-profile Lopez drug case she and Allen had repeatedly butted heads over. Although there was plenty of gossip floating around the station that she’d had something to do with Allen’s disappearance. She didn’t like the captain, and liked the fact that he may very well have planted a bomb in her car even less, but there was only one man she wanted dead enough to do the deed herself.

Eric Spears.

If she let herself contemplate all that had happened in the last six weeks or so, she might just lose it. After all, what forty-two-year-old woman wouldn’t want a serial killer kidnapping innocent women to get her attention and a cop who hated her going missing—after possibly planting a bomb in her department vehicle? Gave new meaning to the term mid-life crisis.

“I was thinking about a replacement for Prescott,” Lori said, evidently noting Jess’s lingering attention on the vacant desk.

Thankful for the reprieve from the other thoughts, Jess set the self-pity party aside for now. “I doubt we’ll get any cases thrown our way until this—” she blew out a big blast of frustration “—is over, but we do need to fill that vacancy. Who’d you have in mind?”

“Lieutenant Clint Hayes. He’s over in Admin right now, but he’s been looking for an opportunity to get in the field.”

Jess placed the photo of Spears on the case board. She hated those pale blue eyes of his. Not the same deep, true blue of Dan’s. Spears’s were that pale, ghostly color that warned pure evil thrived beneath them. “Give me some stats on Hayes.”

“Thirty-four. Single. Went to Samford. Finished law school with high honors but opted not to go that route. Instead he hired on with the BPD.”

Jess stalled before getting the final photo on the board. “Decided he’d rather be one of the good guys, is that it?”

Lori gave a halfhearted shrug. “Something like that.”

There was more to this story. “Something like what…exactly?”

“There was a morals issue in the background check,” Harper chimed in from his desk.

With the last photo in place Jess turned to her senior detective. “What kind of morals issue?”

“The state bar association discovered he had worked his way through college”—Harper strolled up, hands in pockets and wearing a smirk—“as a gigolo. They refused to certify his character.”

A frown puckered her eyebrows. Jess rubbed at what would end up another wrinkle if she didn’t stop the habit. A gigolo? Do tell. “Evidently he was never arrested for solicitation.” That kind of mark on his record would have kept him off the force as well.

“Never,” Lori confirmed. “Character references killed his chances with the state bar association—a couple of his own friends ratted him out. Cost him his chosen career and the city one hell of a sharp attorney.”

“Good Lord.” Jess looked from one detective to the other, certain she had misheard. “You’re telling me the bar association ignored his superior academic prowess and refused to admit him because he’d worked as a manwhore?” She could think of far worse things lawyers did every day, and it rarely got them disbarred.

“I’m telling you,” Harper chuckled, “that the BPD hired him because he was a manwhore.”

Now Jess was really confused.

“It was the mayor’s idea,” Lori interjected, wearing her own smirk now. “Rumor was that Clint’s little black book included Mayor Pratt’s wife’s name.”

In spite of the insanity going on around her, Jess had to laugh. Seemed like for all their old money and power the mayor’s family and friends just couldn’t resist dancing around the dark side. And in the South, even in a city the size of Birmingham, everyone who was anyone knew everyone else. “Don’t you just love small-town justice?”

Harper leaned in closer. “You think he called up Mayor Pratt and asked for a favor, or do you think the mayor’s wife took care of it for him?”

“Good question.” Jess cleared her throat. “If the two of you think Hayes would prove an asset to our cozy little group, I’m fine with a probationary period.” She wouldn’t mention the idea that having a little dirt on the mayor would make her immensely happy. “Talk to him,” she said to Lori. “If he’s agreeable and Burnett approves it, we’ll bring him over as soon as possible.”

Before Jess turned her attention back to the case board she wanted one more administrative issue out of the way, since their youngest member was out of the room. “We need to start grooming Cook for the detectives’ exam.”

“I can handle that,” Harper offered.

“Excellent.” Whether or not Cook got a promotion wasn’t such a priority right now, but Jess needed to hang on to a few threads of normalcy. Spears was doing all within his power to take that from her.

Ruthless, that was what he was. Ruthless and pure evil. If she had her way he would die screaming.

Satisfaction warmed her heart. Oh yes. I will get you this time.

“Your Realtor called.” Lori hitched her head toward Jess’s desk. “There’s a message. Something about the last week of September for the closing date on your house.”

There was another normalcy Jess had been hoping for. It also meant she only had to pay one more house payment before that burden was lifted. There would be some fees involved with the sell, but her equity in the house would take care of that.

“I’ll give her a call back later today.” Jess realized then that both detectives were staring at her. “Oh, sorry. With all that happened, I forgot to tell you. My house in Virginia finally sold. Full asking price.” Thank God for that last part. “The call came Sunday afternoon just before”—she gestured to the board—“this happened.” A splinter of fear needled its way back into her chest.

You have to do something, Jessie Lee. Something that will stop him in his tracks. Fast.

“So.” She walked to her desk to prowl for her glasses. “The hotlines have no confirmed leads on the identities of these women.”

“A few callers,” Harper said, “insist they’ve seen one or the other around their hometown but they don’t know their names. Most of the calls are coming from the Montgomery and Mobile areas.”

“The FBI’s adding an additional layer to the searches in those towns, but it’s like the proverbial needle in the haystack,” Lori added.

“No matches to Alabama driver’s licenses?” Glasses in place, Jess moved back to the case board.

Harper hummed a note of regret. “Nothing yet.”

There was no way to know how much time they had before Spears took the next step, but Jess suspected it wouldn’t be enough. “These women are the right age to be college students. Maybe students from other states. That could explain why we didn’t get a hit with the DMV.” Damn it. Or new residents of Alabama who hadn’t had time to make all the documentation changes.

“The FBI is checking all databases at their disposal,” Lori mentioned.

That was something. But unless these women had passports or had committed a felony they wouldn’t likely be in any of those databases.

Across the room Jess’s cell clanged. Wouldn’t be Dan. If there was a new development he would just appear at the door. Maybe Lily had news. Her sister was pretty frustrated with the inability of her doctors to figure out what was going on with all these crazy symptoms plaguing her. Jess was damned frustrated herself. Her sister had always been as healthy as a horse. The concept of a serious health issue just didn’t seem possible.

“Carry on,” Jess suggested to her detectives, as she hurried back to her desk.

Lori created the time line and added the notes Harper recommended. The two had been dating for a few weeks now, and thankfully so far the fledgling relationship hadn’t affected their work in any way. Jess hoped it stayed that way. She knew from experience it wasn’t an easy balancing act to sustain.

At her desk she picked up her cell and frowned at the screen. Why would Gina Coleman be calling her? Jess had nothing on the Spears case to give Birmingham’s favorite reporter. As far as Jess was concerned, after the business with the Five case the two of them were even on who owed whom what.

“Harris.”

“You need to get over here, Harris. Now.”

Adrenaline kicked Jess’s heart back into that same frantic pace she’d been suffering since Sunday afternoon. “What’s going on?”

“A package was left with the receptionist at the studio. It’s addressed to me but there’s a message on the inside flap that says I should give it to you. I don’t know what it is, but it smells dead.”

 

Chapter 2

12:45 p.m., Channel Six Studios

The fact that he was the chief of police with a job to do gave Dan no comfort when what he wanted right now more than anything in this world was to protect Jess from opening that damned bundle.

Every part of him howled with the need to do this himself, but Jess would never stand for it and with a unit from the Bomb Squad as well as a dozen other cops including evidence techs standing by, he couldn’t exactly argue with his newest deputy chief.

Deputy Chief Jess Harris had a job to do, too.

The building had been evacuated of Channel Six personnel, including Gina Coleman, who had argued the edict all the way out the door. The experts had examined the box intended for Jess and pronounced it free of incendiary materials and other destructive substances. That assessment made the package’s contents no less explosive.

Bones.

After a thorough analyzing, including digital X-rays and probing, the contents were deemed skeletal remains wrapped in disintegrating burlap and plastic.

Once placed on a trace sheet to ensure no evidence was lost, the bundle had been removed from the cardboard shipping box. With Harper standing on one side and an evidence tech on the other, Jess carefully opened the bundle of fabric. Dan and the rest of those gathered stayed back. The fewer bodies crammed around that table, the less likelihood of contaminating whatever evidence the package contained or represented.

The Channel Six security video showed the delivery was made to the station via UPS just after ten that morning. Detective Wells and Officer Cook had interviewed the clerks at the originating UPS Store. One clerk remembered the guy, who’d given his name as Smith Johnson. Johnson was old with thick-lensed glasses, thin gray hair, and a walking cane. His long sleeves and gloves despite the August heat wave hadn’t triggered the usual alarms. The clerk figured he was just an old man trying to avoid sun exposure.

The return address Johnson gave was just as bogus as the name he’d used.

Detective Wells was standing by at the UPS Store for a copy of the video footage from the security system.

A new rush of frustration rammed Dan. What the hell was Spears up to now? Had he dared to disguise himself and waltz into that store right here in Birmingham so he could personally mail this package to Jess? Wasn’t it enough that he was torturing her with potential victims?

More outrage threatened to consume Dan whenever he thought of the SOB, and it had to be wrestled back. If he was going to be any good to Jess or this department, he had to keep his emotions in check.

Harper and Jess exchanged a look, and Dan’s attention zeroed back in on the here and now. “Chief,” Harper said with a grim look in Dan’s direction, “you should call Deputy Chief Black.”

Black? Why would they need another cop on the scene? To hell with it. Dan strode to the table. Harper pointed to the newspaper article preserved in a small plastic sleeve that he had placed on the trace sheet next to pieces of crumpled newspaper and ragged burlap along with the first of several small human bones.

Search Continues for Missing Child.

Recognition slammed Dan in the gut, and the blood in his veins went cold. Dorie Myers. “Jesus Christ.”

Jess stared up at him, her face showing the same shock and confusion he felt. “Do you know the name?”

The dread resonating in her voice made what he had to say all the more difficult. “A third grader who went missing twelve…” he shook his head “…no, thirteen years ago.”

“The Man in the Moon,” Harper said quietly.

God Almighty, this would rip open old wounds in this community that went back decades.

Jess’s breath caught. “Oh my God. I remember that case.”

Though she hadn’t lived here for the past twenty years she would remember the case from before…when she was a kid. Just as Dan did. Like anyone who had resided in or around Birmingham in those days would. He’d been almost ten when the first little girl went missing. His heart felt like a massive rock in his chest.

Twenty little girls had gone missing and were dubbed victims of the so-called Man in the Moon. For two decades he had struck every fall on the night of the harvest moon, like clockwork, and then, thirteen years ago, he suddenly stopped…with Dorie Myers.

This wasn’t Spears’s kind of evil, but it was the work of an equally ruthless monster.

BPD Conference Room, 4:00 p.m.

Mayor Joseph Pratt and all the deputy division chiefs lined the long table in the center of the room. The somber sound of Black’s voice filled the heavy air. Dan’s mind still reeled with this latest turn of events.

Deputy Chief Harold Black headed up Crimes Against Persons. Kidnappings and murders fell under his domain. For nine years after making detective with the Birmingham Police Department, Black had worked the Man in the Moon case. He knew the case. Knew the families involved. Had suffered as much as anyone when the monster couldn’t be found.

Dan stretched his neck and attempted to stay focused on Harold’s briefing. The man was not going to like it when he got the news that this case would not be his this time.

But the cold, hard truth was that all of Harold’s experience with the case couldn’t trump Jess’s uncanny instincts when it came to hunting down killers like the Man in the Moon. This killer or someone who knew him had reached out to Jess, so assigning SPU to handle the investigation was the only reasonable move. SPU had been created for precisely this sort of case. Equally important was the fact that Dan needed Harold working with the FBI on the Spears case as well as leading the investigation on Ted Allen’s disappearance. Harold couldn’t argue that rationale.

But he would.

“Why ‘Man in the Moon’?” Wells asked. “Was it because the missing children attributed to him all disappeared during a full moon?”

“That was part of it.” Harold stood in front of an elaborate case board he had put together in record time for this briefing. Photos of all twenty children suspected to be related to the case lined the board.

“Each year for approximately two decades a female child between the ages of seven and nine went missing on the night of the harvest or hunter’s moon, the full moon nearest the autumnal equinox,” he explained. “That particular full moon always seems closer to the earth. At some point there was a comment in the media about how it was almost as if the moon got so close to the earth that the man living there reached down and snatched a human child so he wouldn’t have to live alone.” Harold shrugged. “The legend stuck and the unknown perpetrator has been referred to in that way since.”

“Has this sudden delivery after all these years,” Mayor Pratt spoke up, “given us new evidence as to the identity of the monster we’re looking for?”

“Not yet, sir,” Harold admitted, “but our forensics personnel are still analyzing evidence. We hope to have something soon.”

Pratt grunted. “What do you propose to announce to the press?” he inquired with blatant skepticism. “This won’t stay under wraps long, I can guarantee you that. People have waited a very long time to know what happened to these children.” He surveyed the table, his attention landing lastly on Dan. “This department has enjoyed a lengthy reprieve from this monster but the people, particularly the families still seeking closure for their immense losses, will demand action. How do you intend to handle that, Chief Burnett?”

“This department,” Dan said emphatically, “will do what it always does—everything possible to find the person or persons responsible for these despicable acts. As soon as the remains are officially identified, the family will be contacted and we’ll make an announcement to the press. I hope to do that by six this evening.”

Pratt gave him a look that suggested he wasn’t convinced, then he shifted his holier-than-thou regard to the next unexpected aspect of this development. “Why was this package sent to Harris?” he asked, as if she weren’t in the room and he wasn’t looking straight at her. “She had nothing to do with this case. She wasn’t even here for the better part of the time frame we’re looking at.”

Before Dan could suggest there was rarely any logic to the acts of a deranged killer, Harold interjected, “I’m certain Chief Harris’s recent notoriety has garnered his attention. Sociopaths and psychopaths often crave that sort of attention. He most likely feels a connection of sorts with Chief Harris.” Harold presented an indulgent smile to Jess. “No offense intended, of course.”

“None taken,” Jess assured him. “I’m sure you’ll have your own fan club one day.”

Dan scrubbed a hand over his jaw, mostly to cover the smile her comeback aroused but also to prevent telling Harold to sit down and shut up. “Considering his probable age”—Dan directed this at Harold—“it’s possible he’s suffering health issues and has decided to reveal himself through the highest-profile deputy chief in the department.”

Harold’s posture stiffened. One day the man would learn to play nice with Jess.

“I hate to disagree with the two of you,” Jess said, as she divided her attention between them, “but I sincerely doubt either of those scenarios.”

Silence expanded in the room. Just like old times. What was a briefing without a standoff between Jess and Harold? Or Jess and everyone else in the room, for that matter? How that made him love her all the more was a mystery.

“Well,” Harold said, waving his hand in invitation, “I’m quite certain we’d all like to hear your analysis, Chief Harris.”

“Since I had little time to review the case, my impressions are based primarily on what I’ve heard here today.” Jess adjusted her glasses and surveyed the case board. “If these abductions, only one each year over a two-decade span, are indeed the work of a single perpetrator, then he is incredibly disciplined. He has likely led a normal life within the community. Married with kids and grandchildren.” She shrugged. “He has shown no desire to draw attention to his work in the past. If all the cases are indeed connected to him and he’s still alive—”

“They are all connected to him,” Harold interrupted.

“By date alone?” Jess challenged. “How many other children went missing during those same years? Children of the same age group,” she pressed, “and with no clues left behind as to why they were taken? Timing alone is a skimpy link, Chief.”

“Your points carry merit,” Harold agreed, his back still ramrod straight and his expression no less skeptical of Jess’s opinion.

Dan waited for the other shoe to drop.

“But only one child in a one-hundred-mile radius around this city went missing precisely on the night of the harvest moon each and every one of those years. Coincidence?” He held his hands out, palms up. “Perhaps.”

Jess acknowledged his move with a dip of her head. “Then again, after the third or fourth year, the media made a big to-do about the harvest moon connection. Copycats love to capitalize on that kind of attention.” She looked around the table, confident in her assessment. “Whatever we think we know, it’s our job to dig deeper and find the elements that connect the victims to the person or persons who chose that date to do his dirty little deeds. Bottom line, we need a motive. Was he lonely? Satisfying sadistic sexual urges? Are we dealing with one perpetrator or several? Can we adequately connect all of those cases? We have a lot of questions and not nearly enough answers.”

While Jess and Harold continued their debate, Harper slipped out of the room. Dan’s instincts went on point. He hoped the detective was seeking privacy for an update from the forensic techs. They could damn sure use a break about now. So far they had three decades of nothing except missing little girls and no clues.

“Who’s lead on this case?” Pratt demanded, evidently weary of the back-and-forth between the deputy chiefs. He glared at Dan. “We need forward momentum, not this pointless rehashing and butting of heads.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Dan had intended to discuss this with Harold in private. So much for keeping the peace in the department. Since all eyes shifted to Dan, there was no getting around making that announcement here and now.

The door opened and Harper returned. He walked straight to Dan and passed a note before taking his seat.

As he read the words Harper had scrawled on the page, Dan’s throat went dry.

He’d read the words twice before the silence in the room dragged him from the haze of disbelief. “The forensic techs have been analyzing and dissecting the packaging used for delivering the remains to Channel Six. The perp left us a note by circling letters on the pages of newspapers.”

Reluctance and more of that frustration coiled deep in his gut. “Hello, Jess.” Dan’s gaze connected with hers. “We’re all waiting for you to find us.”

The pain on Jess’s face ripped open his chest a little wider. How the hell could this happen? Another killer wanted to play games with her?

“How do you intend to proceed, Chief Harris?” Pratt demanded. “Obviously the decision as to who will be lead on this case has been made. This monster wants you to find him and his victims.”

“This year’s harvest moon will be on September nineteenth,” Detective Wells offered when no one else in the room seemed able to find their voice.

Before Jess could answer, Tara Morgan cracked the door open and stuck her head in the room. Dan motioned for her to come on in as the debate between Harold and Jess reignited, a little hotter this time. Tara lingered near the door rather than coming to the table, the signal loud and clear. She had news to relay that she didn’t want the others to hear. Dan didn’t bother excusing himself from the table. He doubted anyone would notice.

As soon as he reached her, Tara leaned close and whispered, “Chief, there are…” she chewed her lip a second before she said the rest “…people in the lobby demanding to see you. I told them you were in a briefing, but they won’t take no for an answer.”

“People?” Confusion jumped into the mix of frustration and worry churning inside him. “Reporters?”

Tara shook her head. “Parents of some of the—” she nodded toward the case board “—children.”

A press briefing was tentatively scheduled for six. Nothing about this investigation was supposed to be released to the public until then. A wave of fury gave his gut a twist. “How many, Tara? How many parents are we talking about?”

“Four.” She gave him the names.

“Okay. Show them to my office.” His cell vibrated. Bloody hell. If there was more news like this he could do without it. “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he assured her.

To tell them what?

The cell phone in his pocket started that damned vibrating again. He checked the screen. Gina. She’d better have one hell of an excuse for this breach of trust.

It was one thing to hold a press briefing to inform the public that remains from a cold case had been discovered and to assure the citizens that the BPD was on top of the matter. It was entirely another to inform the parents of victims before remains were properly identified Gina had given her word that she wouldn’t release a word until he gave her the go-ahead.

Now he would have to deliver the heartbreaking news that they had nothing…except the promise of more anguish to come.

Be sure to leave a comment! One lucky winner will get all three books! I’ll announce the winner tomrrow morning so check back!

Have a great weekend! And see you next Friday for more of RUTHLESS!

Deb

The Faces of Evil Weekly Briefing

Be sure to drop by The Weekly Briefing! I'm giving away copies of Revenge and a copy of The Sweetest Hallelujah!

http://www.thefacesofevil.com/weekly-...

Do You Want to Make a Memory? Book 5 in the Faces of Evil & Giveaway

Maybe listening to Bon Jovi while writing a Faces of Evil Weekly Briefing isn’t the right mood enhancer but somehow it feels right. We make many memories in our lives. Lots of wonderful ones hopefully and some not so wonderful. What happens when you make a memory that you regret later? I don’t mean like buying a dress that busted your budget or the wrong hair color. I mean a really BIG regret like maybe you got someone killed…or maybe you murdered someone? That gave me a chill even with Bon Jovi crooning in the background. The Five, young, Birmingham elite, have that kind of problem. Something happened more than a dozen years ago that set their lives on a different course and changed everything forever more.

Let’s talk about that and two lucky winners will receive autographed copies of REVENGE! AND, one lucky winner will receive an autographed copy of The Sweetest Hallelujah by Elaine Hussey! So be sure to comment!

REVENGE is book five in the Faces of Evil series. Many things change in this book and a lot happens that sets the stage for the rest of the series. Lots of old memories surface as well as some faces from the past. Buddy Corlew, Dan Burnett’s arch rival in high school, pops back into Jess’s life. That’s going to be an interesting new element moving forward. I hope you’ll love the story as much as I loved writing it! And, oh my God, in just three and one half weeks RUTHLESS will be here! I promise you are going to LOVE LOVE LOVE that story!

My publisher, GCP’s FOREVER ROMANCE, provided an AMAZING Fresh Fiction blast about the series. The banner is incredible. I love it, love it, love it. I just have to share in case you haven’t seen it! All I can say is WOW!

Another author, the incredible Elaine Hussey, had a book released the same day as REVENGE. The Sweetest Hallelujah is an incredible literary novel that will leave you breathless. To quote the Kirkus review: “In a desperate bid, a dying mother takes out an ad in the paper and finds protection and love for her daughter from an unexpected source…An endearing and emotionally satisfying exploration of race, family and friendship in trying times.

Doesn’t that just reach out and grab you by the throat? This is a stunning novel. I fully expect The Sweetest Hallelujah to be one of the top novels of 2013. DO NOT MISS THIS ONE! The characters in this fine novel come face to face with many of the aftershocks from the memories they have made, good and bad. After reading this novel you will never look at friendship the same way again. There are simply some bonds and feelings that transcend words but this rare author somehow managed to find the right words to convey enormous emotion.

So, let’s talk about memories. Have you ever made one you regret? Well, one you don’t want to take the Fifth on at any rate? Be sure to leave a comment (even if you don’t want to share your secrets) and check back later this evening for the names of the winners.

Next Friday look for the first sneak peek at RUTHLESS and another giveaway! If you haven’t signed up to be a Person of Interest be sure to do so, I’ll be announcing a new suspect on August 30!

Have a great weekend and make lots of wonderful memories!

Deb

Congratulations Winners of REVENGE

Amanda Brown and Arlene Dean are winners of autographed copies of REVENGE! Please contact me at author.debra.webb@gmail.com for details! Celebrate!

REVENGE is almost here! Final sneak peek and a chance to win!

FOUR MORE DAYS!!!! REVENGE will be available everywhere on Tuesday! I cannot wait! We have one last sneak peek today AND, if you leave a comment you could win a Faces of Evil tee-shirt! So be sure to comment! Read on for one last look at REVENGE until Tuesday!

REVENGE

 

Chapter 7

Vestavia Village, 4:00 p.m.

Jess finished her tea and placed the glass on the elegant crystal tray waiting on the coffee table in the middle of Frances Wallace’s unexpectedly opulent gathering room. Not a living room or great room or den, she had explained to Jess. The condos had gathering rooms with mini kitchens equipped for serving cold refreshments. No cooking kitchens or dining rooms. There was no need. The residents’ meals were served in the facility’s dining hall.

At least this way there was no worry about anyone accidentally burning the place down.

“This won’t stop them,” Lucille argued. “The construction will continue anyway. Our situation has not changed. At all. Why would we want to kill Scott much less bother doing so?” The last she delivered with a look that proclaimed the mere idea grated like broken glass against her delicate sensibilities.

Lucille Blevins was as blunt as Frances and about as delicate as the Glock Jess carried. She was the eldest of the group and made sure everyone understood that detail carried certain privileges.

And the two janitors had called Frances the ringleader. Ha!

Frances sighed loudly. “Mercy alive, Lucille. No one’s saying that.”

“You said it.” Polly Neal lifted her thin chin in consternation. “Said you wanted him dead. I heard you. So did everyone else.”

Molly Jones, Polly’s twin, nodded adamantly. “I heard it too.” She turned to the others. “We all heard it. Didn’t we?”

The heads of the other three, Geraldine Lusk, Colleen Sharp, and Pansy Cornelius, moved up and down in frantic agreement. They stole a glance at Jess and stopped abruptly. Then another of those free-for-alls started with everyone assuring Jess that Frances would never hurt anyone. Absolutely not. Not even Scott Baker.

No wonder Frances felt compelled to rally around these ladies despite every last one of them being a tattletale. Well into their eighties, all lacked the actual know-how to dive into a war against the facility’s board unless their strategy was to frustrate them to death. The sort of ladies who lived their whole lives with husbands taking care of everything. Nothing wrong with that for those who chose that lifestyle. Had Jess’s mother lived, she would have been the same way. Lily’s relationship with her husband wasn’t that different even now.

Jess could not imagine leaving all that control up to the man in her life—when she had a man in her life.

She supposed Dan was kind of in her life. Sort of.

No one made Jess’s decisions for her. The last time that happened, she’d spent from age ten to eighteen in a carousel of foster homes. The day she turned eighteen she made up her mind that would never happen again. Her livelihood and happiness would never depend on anyone else.

She hauled herself back to the present. Following up on the statements made by the widows was nothing more than a formality. Lori had taken each, one at a time, to Frances’s balcony and gone over her statement while Jess attempted to explain how the investigation worked and the roles the ladies played in bringing to light the events of the past twenty-four hours. Prescott and Cook had already done the initial interviews but Jess needed to do this. Mostly to reassure herself that she wasn’t missing anything.

That was working out just great so far. Not.

Bless their hearts. Jess reached for more patience and waited out this latest squabble. They were cute as buttons and for the most part sweet as could be. Except maybe for the twins. Those two were vicious little old ladies from what Jess had gathered so far. Looked as if they were ready to throw Frances under the bus and back up a couple of times.

During a moment of silence as they all caught their breaths and wet their whistles, Frances stared longingly at her tea as if she wished it were something far stronger. “Ladies,” she said in a surprisingly calm voice, “I said nothing about killing Scott Baker or wanting him dead. What I said was,” she stated firmly when mouths opened to protest, “I hoped to live long enough to see him eat those words and die. I didn’t mean I wanted him to literally die. I meant he should go to hell.”

“You could’ve just said that,” Lucille demanded. “Maybe then we wouldn’t be in this hellacious predicament.”

A collective round of gasps from the others punctuated the statements.

Frances looked heavenward. “God, help me.”

Jess cleared her throat. “Ladies.”

All eyes shifted to her. At least she had their attention again. The question was, how long could she keep it?

“None of you are suspects in this case. You are only persons of interest. But your statements are important to the investigation.” Jess kept her hands folded in her lap in hopes of presenting a calm, cool demeanor. She sure didn’t need any of these ladies having a stroke or a heart attack. Try explaining a scene like that to the press. “Anything you remember beyond what you’ve shared in your statement could be useful in finding the person who did this awful thing.”

Molly and Polly shared a looked. “You mean we’re not in any sort of trouble?” the latter asked.

“No, ma’am,” Jess assured her. “We only needed to go over your statements regarding where you were last night and to discuss whatever you might know about any enemies Mr. Baker may have had.”

“You mean beyond every single soul he met?” Lucille challenged.

“Do you know of any specific person or persons with whom Mr. Baker had trouble?” Jess tried again.

“Scott Baker was a very savvy businessman, Jess,” Frances said. “He told me once that he’d never met anyone he couldn’t charm when it came to negotiations.” She lifted her glass in a salute. “Besides me, of course.”

“No one other than the seven of you were against this new construction?” Jess tried a different tactic.

Heads wagged. “They’re all too afraid to speak up,” Lucille explained.

“Why would anyone be afraid to speak up?” That was the first time she’d heard that one.

The widows clammed up as if she’d asked which one lost her virginity first.

“We pay well for this luxury,” Frances spoke up when no one else would. “But there are rules. Opening hours for the dining room and the little movie theater we all love so much. He made it a point to learn our habits, what we enjoyed, and then when we crossed him about this, he took the things we cared about away.”

“Give me an example,” Jess prompted, her dislike for the deceased mounting.

“I have dinner with my daughter’s family on Monday nights. Afterward I come back here and enjoy a cup of tea in the dining room with my friends before retiring for the evening. He instructed Ms. Warren to stop serving tea after eight.” She waved her arms to indicate her lovely home. “We’re not allowed to cook in our condos, not even with a microwave. We can’t even have a coffeemaker or a teapot.”

“He fired my hairdresser,” Polly said. “I won’t let anyone else touch my hair.” She patted her curly gray locks. “From the day the salon opened, Deidra was my stylist. He fired her. I can’t make arrangements to go to the new shop in town where Deidra works since one of the occupancy rules require we use the on-site salon.”

“I’m addicted to hot fudge pie.” Lucille wrapped her arms around her waist as if the confession drew everyone’s attention to her healthy middle. “As soon as I signed that petition to stop construction, the dining room stopped serving my pie.”

Jess leaned forward, outrage kindling in her belly. None of these instances were exactly torture tactics but the man was strong-arming these old women. No, he was bullying them. “Have you contacted attorneys to have your contracts reviewed?” There had to be a law against this mistreatment.

“It’s all in the fine print,” Frances announced, the weight of the battle she’d been waging showing on her face. “Baker was a brilliant businessman. He may not have charmed me but he certainly outmaneuvered me.”

“No enemies to your knowledge, other than the residents such as yourselves who were unhappy with him?” Jess should get this interview back on track. “No one in particular who came around that stirred your interest in what he might be up to?” This was as close as Jess would get to outright asking if the man was having an affair. She wanted these ladies to give her information, not the answers they thought she wanted to hear.

“No one I can recall,” Frances said first.

Lucille shook her head.

Jess tried a different tactic. “No problems with his deputy administrator or his secretary?”

“They’re having an affair,” Polly said in a stage whisper.

Now they were getting somewhere. “Mr. Baker and his secretary?” Jess asked.

“Oh no!” Molly laughed. “Baker was too boring for that. Mr. Clemmons and the secretary are having an affair.”

Everyone in the room started tossing out the latest gossip they’d heard. Jess held up her hands to quiet them. “We need facts, ladies. Just the facts.” Whatever the deputy administrator was doing, Scott Baker had sex with someone before his murder.

“If Baker was having an affair,” Frances said as if she were the final authority in the matter, “he was very discreet. I’ve never heard a rumor like that about him.”

Jess waited for her to go on. As did the others, fortunately.

“Scott loved his wife. He loved his son. He loved his life.” For a bit Frances looked as if she might weep. “I despised his business tactics but”—she drew in a deep breath—“he would never have hurt his wife or any other woman like that. He wasn’t that kind of man. He worked. He went home to his family. That’s it.”

“How can you be so certain?” Lucille demanded, her gaze narrow with suspicion.

“I hired a PI.” Frances gave a little half shrug. “So sue me. I figured if I could find some dirt on him, we could be rid of him. Maybe if there was evidence he’d used his position in some inappropriate manner to manipulate the Your Life corporation coming in and taking over, then we could undo this mess. What I discovered was that he was a cutthroat businessman. He lied to us at every opportunity and, worse, he stole the peace we all deserved.”

“And paid for,” Polly added for good measure.

“A private investigator?” All the frustration and impatience Jess had been holding back whipped out of her on those three words. “You have a background investigation and surveillance reports and you didn’t think to mention that?”

Frances heaved another big sigh. “I didn’t want to look any guiltier than I already do. Hiring a PI is a little extreme. I recognize that now. But I was flustered and it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“I’ll need those reports immediately,” Jess warned. “As in right this minute.”

“You can have them.” Frances got up from her camel-back sofa and walked over to a table near the door. “But the reports are full of nothing.” She crossed back to Jess and handed her a pathetically thin manila folder.

Jess stood. “Thank you, ladies.” She surveyed the group. “I appreciate your cooperation.” She smiled and just for the devil of it said, “Now don’t y’all be leaving town until I give you the go-ahead.”

She strode toward the door with Frances hot on her heels and the other six whispering loud enough for folks in the next condo to hear.

“Jess, you know I didn’t mean any harm keeping that from you. I forgot, that’s all.”

She wanted to be upset with her favorite teacher but that just wasn’t possible, so she whispered back, “This better be the only thing you didn’t tell me about.”

“I swear.” Frances held up the two fingers signifying Scout’s honor.

Jess opened the door but decided to give Frances one last counsel. “Keep your widows under control.” Then she was out of there.

This widows’ club didn’t know a thing that would help the Baker investigation. Jess was confident of that assessment. Still, as a cop, the truth was that the only thing preventing Frances Wallace from becoming a full-fledged suspect was Jess’s certainty that the killer had been far stronger and faster than her.

Lori waited in the courtyard, her cell phone pressed to her ear. Judging by her exasperated hand gestures, she was not too happy with her caller. She and Chet Harper had just moved in together. Was there trouble in paradise already? Chet had a three-year-old son. Lori was worried about whether the child liked her or not. Maybe that was the real issue.

Jess wished she could make the younger woman understand that these things took time and patience. Something she’d never had enough of. That was why, at forty-two, she was alone unless you counted her off-the-record affair with her boss.

The man she was supposed to have married twenty years ago.

Another hard lesson learned about not relying on others or love or money.

Jess booted the past back to its place deep in the nether regions of her gray matter. She had a homicide to solve.

Lori looked up as Jess drew nearer. She quickly ended the call but there was no speedy way to banish the mixture of emotions from her face. She was worried and frustrated. Jess was confident her frustrations had nothing to do with the widows.

“That was Harper.”

“Everything all right?”

Lori joined her progression toward the parking area. Jess put her hand on her arm and stopped her for a moment. “Just look at that view.” She admired the calm water of the lake. The birds dipping down for a drink with the breeze playing with the lovely ornamental grasses nestled around its rocky shore.

When the sun dropped amid the trees in the distance, it would be a breathtaking sight. No wonder the board was anxious to squeeze more out of this view. According to the plans she had seen in Baker’s office, the new condo tower would be far taller and larger than the one Frances and her friends occupied. Leaving them absolutely no scenic view whatsoever.

Jess moved on. “You were saying Harper called?”

“Mrs. Baker is back home and she wants to speak to the person in charge of her husband’s case.” Lori hit the clicker to unlock her Mustang. “Like right now.”

That was generally Jess’s line. Since the wife had been out of town and the mayor had been keeping word of her return under wraps, Jess was glad someone wanted to help with this investigation rather than hinder it.

“Let’s hope there’s something she can add to the investigation.” Maybe Mrs. Baker knew what her husband was up to when she wasn’t home.

Jess fastened her seat belt and waited as Lori maneuvered off the property. If she chose not to talk about whatever was going on between her and Harper, Jess would understand. She hoped their relationship wouldn’t damage the SPU team. She wanted both Lori and Harper working with her. Keeping their personal lives separate from the job wasn’t going to be easy. Jess knew that firsthand.

She opened the manila folder Frances had given her to have a look at the PI’s report.

“He doesn’t want me in his father’s house.”

The words burst out of Lori as if a dam had cracked. Jess turned to her. Her profile told the rest of the story. Lori Wells was on the verge of tears. That was way out of character for the tough-as-nails lady who had survived days on end as the hostage of a ruthless serial killer.

“Give it time. It’s too soon to expect a child so young to accept you.” Jess wished she had advice more immediately comforting. At three, Chet’s son was old enough to be fearful and standoffish with strangers. And yet too young to understand that his father had a new friend he wanted to keep around.

“I don’t know.” Lori’s lips trembled. “He doesn’t want to be in the room with me. He stays hidden behind his father and he doesn’t want me close. At all. Maybe I shouldn’t be there when he comes over. I could go to my place. Make things simpler.”

“No.”

Lori braked for an intersection. She turned to Jess with a question or hope amid the despair on her face.

“If you give him that,” Jess promised, “you will never become a part of his new normal. You have to stay the course. Be strong and steady. Be there. Keep smiling and trying to interact. He’ll come around in time.”

“From your mouth to God’s ears.” She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and took a deep breath as if needing the cleansing effect. “Your friend is a character.”

Jess smiled. As much as she wanted to shake Frances right now, she still adored her. “Yeah. I know.” Speaking of Frances, Jess turned her attention back to the manila folder. She scanned the first report. “Do you know a private investigator who calls himself or his business Tracker?”

“Tracker?” Lori glanced at her. “Are you serious? I mean, the Tracker?”

Jess rifled through the four pages in the folder. “That’s the only name on the reports.”

Lori grinned. “Tracker. I can’t believe it. I think you’re going to want to talk to him. Maybe even before we talk to Mrs. Baker. What time is it?”

Jess checked her cell. “Five-twenty.”

Lori got one of those aha looks. “I know where to find him. He’s like clockwork. Rumor is every day at five he lands on the same barstool with a beer in his hand.”

“Who the hell is this guy?” What in the world was Frances doing dealing with someone who spent that much time in bars? Frances Wallace epitomized etiquette and principles—most of the time anyway.

“Some cops would call him a lowlife scumbag if you could even get them to say his name out loud. But”—Lori paused, seeming to choose her next words carefully—“others say he’s a damned good investigator when he wants to be. I was curious. I read up on him. Until a few years ago, Buddy Corlew was a legend in the department.”

“Did you say Corlew?” No way. “Forty-something?” Jess snapped her sagging jaw shut.

“That’s him,” Lori confirmed. “You know the guy?”

Jess leaned back in her seat, almost anticipating the opportunity that had fallen into her lap. “Let’s just say that I knew him once.”

 

The Garage, 10th Terrace South, 5:12 p.m.

Jess had to hand it to her old friend. If he was going to spend his evenings hanging out in a bar, this place definitely had some charm. From the rusty sign out front to the wisteria climbing over the iron gate and garden statues, a welcoming atmosphere just reached out and enveloped anyone who got close. Inside, there was more of the same. Lots of friendly conversations at the rustic bistro tables and along the bar, even for a Tuesday night.

One man sat alone at the far end of the bar, a vacant stool separating him from the rest of the patrons. Buddy Corlew was an island. The only thing here that could touch him was the lively music blasting from the speakers.

While Lori melted into the crowd, Jess made her way to that unoccupied stool. He didn’t look up as she settled in next to him. Just as well. Gave her a moment to study his profile. Not much had changed. The threadbare jeans and T-shirt and cowboy boots had always been the mainstay of his wardrobe. He still sported that trademark ponytail. Only the slicked back hair was more salt than pepper now. Crow’s-feet had made themselves at home. He’d filled out a little around the middle. Definitely no longer quarterback material but then she had no room to talk. It was hell getting older.

“If you’re that interested,” Corlew suggested without turning his head to meet her steady gaze, “I’m happy to buy you a beer and give you my number.”

“I got your number twenty-four years ago, Corlew,” she advised, “the night you tried to talk me out of my panties.”

He turned to her, the lopsided grin that had broken many an innocent heart making an appearance. “I don’t expect I’d be any more successful now than I was then.”

Jess smiled. “I don’t expect you would.”

“I heard you were back in town.”

“I’m pretty hard to miss.” Considering she’d been all over the news, that was an understatement.

“You and Dan back together?”

“He’s my boss,” Jess skirted the question.

Corlew grunted. Could mean anything or nothing at all.

“I hear you’ve got your own shop now,” she prodded, since he didn’t seem inclined to launch into conversation.

Corlew had gone straight from high school to the Marines. It was either that or do jail time for busting too many heads. Back in the day, Buddy Corlew was the badass of Birmingham—a tough guy who rode a Harley and stole the prettiest girls from the rich boys in town.

But there had been one girl, hard as he tried, he hadn’t been able to steal away from the rich boy she loved. Jess shook off the foolish thoughts. God, that was a long time ago.

“That’s right.” Forearms braced on the counter, bottle of beer in hand, he turned to Jess. “After I lost yet another battle with Burnett four years ago, I decided I was better off working for me instead of the establishment.”

On the way here from Vestavia Village, Lori had explained how Buddy Corlew had achieved the status of veteran detective with nearly a dozen years under his belt at the Birmingham Police Department. As the story went, he’d had his own way of doing things and spent more time stepping on toes than following the rules. He’d butted heads with Burnett one time too many. When Burnett was appointed chief of police, Corlew was out of  there.

There was more to the story, Jess suspected. Eventually she would get the rest from Burnett.

“Frances Wallace hired you to find the dirt on Scott Baker. According to the reports she showed me, you didn’t have any luck.”

He bunched up one shoulder, then let it relax in an indifferent shrug. “You can’t find dirt that doesn’t exist. Besides, you know I can’t discuss a case with you.”

Jess reached into her bag for her badge, then placed it on the counter. “In case you haven’t heard, Scott Baker is dead. Murdered. It’s my case. Frances gave me the file you provided. You have a question about that, you can call her. Otherwise, I have a few questions, Mr. Corlew. You want to answer them here or you want to take a ride downtown?”

He downed the rest of the beer and pushed the empty longneck aside. “Scott Baker was squeaky clean, Chief Harris. Not even a parking ticket. His wife too. Hell, I even checked out that swanky retirement facility he runs—ran. Nothing shady there either except a slick businessman determined to make his daddy proud.” The waiter grabbed the empty bottle and plunked down a replacement in a passing swoop.

Corlew gave the waiter a nod, then carried on with his story. “They’re building another swanky joint called Windswept Village down in Orange Beach. These guys aren’t interested in murder. They’re too busy making money off folks like Frances Wallace and her wealthy friends.”

Jess stowed her badge and fished out a business card. New ones that no longer listed her as a special agent for the FBI. She’d picked them up on her lunch break yesterday. “If you suddenly remember something you believe relates to my case, I’d appreciate a phone call.”

He gave the card a thorough perusal as she slid off the stool. “If I don’t remember anything relevant,” he asked, “can I call you anyway?”

Jess suppressed a laugh. Same old Corlew. “You can try.”

Just like twenty-four years ago, she walked away without looking back.

 

Drop back by tonight and I’ll announce the winner of the Faces of Evil tee-shirt! Enjoy your weekend! Be sure to get out there and get your copy of REVENGE next week!

Deb

REVENGE is almost here!!! We have another sneak peek!

TEN MORE DAYS until REVENGE hits the shelves!!! I”m thinking we need big prizes to give away for the release! How about a very special Faces of Evil tee-shirt? We’ll talk about that more next Friday. This week I’m in Atlanta at the annual Romance Writers of America Conference with great friends! Read on for two more chapters of REVENGE!

 

Chapter 5

 

The Grille, Five Points, Noon

“I can’t believe he’s dead.” Juliette Coleman felt sick to her stomach. She pushed away the menu. This was her favorite lunch spot but there was no way she could eat and have this discussion. It hurt too much.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Agony flooded her being. What did she do now? How did she move past this? Stop the images from flashing over and over in her head?

She shut down that line of thinking. She couldn’t go there. Not right now.

“This can’t be happening.” Elliott Carson turned his hands up and surveyed the rest of the group seated around the table. “No way. What about his wife and kid? Jesus Christ.” He hung his head, obviously stunned and horrified by the news.

He was the one she would have expected to be torn up about this. Elliott had always been the most kindhearted of all the guys. Yet he was the one who had the most reason not to be. With his former celebrity status as a Major League Baseball player for the Pittsburgh Pirates, everyone had expected him to turn into a self-centered ass, but he never had. Instead, after several amazing seasons and a shoulder injury that forced his retirement at the height of his game, he came right back here to Birmingham and started a training camp for young athletes. He spent a lot of time giving back to the community.

Somehow over the years she’d forgotten what a good guy Elliott was…How had they come to this?

Don’t go there, Juliette.

“What the hell happened?” Aaron Taylor demanded. He had no patience for beating around the bush; he never had.

“You’re kidding, right?” Kevin O’Reilly, the son of Birmingham’s media mogul Clinton O’Reilly, directed this at Aaron and then spent a long, dramatic moment in silence, staring across the table from one to the other.

Even if they weren’t discussing the death of a lifelong friend, Kevin would pull out his whole trunk of theatrics. He’d been a drama queen back in high school and he was still one today. Part of him was probably glad Scott was dead. One less person for Kevin to be jealous of. Juliette banished the ugly thoughts. This was not the time.

God, what was she going to do? Agony welled inside her all over again.

“I warned you this would happen if Todd Penney ever came back,” Kevin said knowingly. “Scott should have listened to me. All of you better start paying attention.”

“Oh my God.” Juliette couldn’t believe he’d just said that. Anger overrode the pain and regret. Kevin thought he was the only one who could solve a fucking problem. Worse, he was making this about him! He made her sick.

As if he’d read her mind, he glared at her in warning.

She glowered right back, hoping he saw just how much she hated his guts right now.

“You can’t really believe he would do this?” Aaron challenged. “What could he possibly hope to gain?”

Answer that one, you sawed off little bastard, Juliette wanted to scream at him.

Unlike Kevin or Elliott, Aaron was the logical one. It was the attorney in him. Like his father and his grandfather, he had been born to analyze and to challenge. But a courtroom was the only place where he pulled out those sizeable balls of his these days. The cocky football star from high school was as gay as a three-dollar bill but he didn’t have the nerve to come out of the closet. Instead he’d taken a fake wife and pretended they were waiting until their careers were established to have children.

Juliette resisted the urge to shake her head. And the gang thought she was the only one who lived a lie. This little family was in for a major wake-up call. As much as she had loved all these guys at one time…there was something rotting away between them. She could hardly bear to sit at this table…but she had to. They’d made a promise. She, for one, intended to see that they all held up their ends of that bargain. She was not going to prison for anyone or anything.

Not even for Scott…

Beneath all the bravado and self-centeredness, they all had one nasty little secret in common—they were cowards. Even Aaron’s innate reasoning skill hadn’t helped them that night twelve years ago.

A new kind of fear welled so quickly inside Juliette she could hardly breathe. If anyone ever found out…What was she thinking? He knew. And if Kevin was right, Todd Penney was back and wanted revenge for the death of his best friend.

After all these years.

This couldn’t be happening. Not on top of everything else…

But it had happened. Her stomach twisted with agony…Scott was dead.

Anger warred with the other emotions whirling inside her. Scott had been a coward too. A coward and a liar.

She bit her lips to hold back an anguished cry. He’s dead. Scott was dead. She couldn’t believe he was gone.

Kevin shook his head at them as if they were all pathetic. “You just don’t get it, do you?” He stared directly at Aaron as he spoke. “He’s back and Scott’s dead. You can pretend it’s a coincidence and that what I’m saying to you is ludicrous all you want, but when another of us dies, you’ll see.”

“Okay.” Elliott glanced around the private banquet room they’d paid the waitress a huge tip to get. “When did Penney return to Birmingham?”

“We don’t know for certain but within the last week,” Kevin said in that I-have-all-the-answers way of his. “He’s staying with his mother because he’s still a loser just like he was back then.”

“So,” Aaron said, “you think this big mama’s boy loser killed Scott? Listen to yourself, Kev. It doesn’t make sense. More likely Scott messed with the wrong guy’s wife?”

“How can you say that?” Juliette growled like a mother lion. “He was our friend.” She knew for a fact that the only wife he wanted was his own. The pain twisting inside her sliced like barbed wire. He’s dead. He’s dead. Scott’s dead.

Aaron turned to her, no sign of sympathy on his face. “He was our friend, Jules. You need to get over the idea that you two were high school sweethearts. He dumped you for the judge’s daughter, remember? Scott could be an asshole just like the rest of us when necessary. Not everyone can be perfect like you. And none of us have been friends like that in a very long time.”

Juliette stood. She’d had enough. This hostile survival-of-the-fittest mentality was the reason this group had fallen apart. “I will not sit here and listen to this bullshit.”

Kevin grabbed her hand. “Please, Jules.” His plea almost sounded sincere. What an actor he was. An Academy Award–winning performance. “I’ll admit right now that I’m terrified. We have to do something about this. We can’t just pretend it never happened.”

Incredibly, even Aaron didn’t have a smart-ass comeback for that assessment. It was almost worth listening to this crap just to see him squirm.

Juliette dropped back into her chair. “Fine, but no more unnecessary remarks.” She looked straight at Aaron as she said this.

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “All right, all right. I’m chill.”

Juliette suddenly wished it was Aaron who was lying in the morgue instead of Scott. Her chest squeezed. She should feel guilty about that thought but she didn’t. After they were done here, she needed to go directly to confession. She’d already been once today.

That was what she’d done that night…a dozen years ago.

The night the five of them committed murder.

 

Chapter 6

 

Birmingham Police Department, 12:35 p.m.

“That’s the part that has crawled way up under my skin,” Deputy Chief Harold Black insisted when Dan was past ready to let the subject go for now. “Ted has fifteen years with the department. Fifteen years. Why go off the deep end now? You’re the chief of police, Dan. You’ve known Ted his entire career—your entire career. Doesn’t that theory feel wrong to you? Even with this new and seemingly damning development.”

Harold was right on all counts. But the facts, as they knew them at this time, spoke for themselves. If there had been any question that something was amiss with Allen’s behavior, the records from his cell phone greatly diminished that doubt.

“Nothing would give me more pleasure,” Dan began, hoping to convey just how deeply this tragedy affected him as well, “than to have your division somehow prove that Allen was set up. That dead or alive, he is an innocent victim.”

“The truth is, Dan,” Harold reminded him, “we can’t prove what Allen did or did not do when he entered the department’s motor pool that day just before Chief Harris picked up the Taurus.”

“I suppose,” Dan countered, “that we also can’t hazard a guess as to why he may have taken additional steps toward that same end just days later. Any way you look at this, he was up to something that involved Jess.”

There was a whole hell of a lot they didn’t know but some parts were damned obvious.

“One could say this latest development might indicate Chief Harris knows more than she’s saying.”

Outrage lit deep in his gut but Dan tamped it back. “Do not take this investigation in that direction, Harold,” he cautioned. “If you do, you will not like my response. Is that understood?”

“I’m a little concerned,” the determined man persisted, “that perhaps you are right now reacting on emotion rather than logic. Using your position to protect Chief Harris in this matter won’t go unnoticed, Dan. It—”

Dan halted him with a deadly look. “We will not go there. Are we clear?”

Harold relented with a somber nod. “Quite clear.” He gathered his notes. “You know I’ll do my best to solve this puzzle, but I’ll be honest with you right now. After talking to Ted’s wife, I just don’t believe he took off and left his whole life behind. He’s got two kids, Dan. This”—he threw up his hands—“circumstantial evidence aside, there is absolutely nothing in his background to suggest a character flaw that deep.”

“Stranger things have happened.” Dan worked at cooling off. Harold had struck a nerve and seemed to want to just keep tap dancing there. “I do agree this behavior is out of character. That said, until we find him or someone or something that can provide the answers we need, we have no choice but to consider that Allen may have crossed the line.”

Jess would be the first to point out that everyone, man or woman, possessed the potential for evil. It was not crossing that thin, often hard-to-see line that made the difference. They could speculate every day, including Sunday, and never know what led to the chain of events that played out those last few days before Allen disappeared. Another of Jess’s favorite sayings whispered through his mind. Find the motive, find the answer.

“I would be remiss in my duties if I failed to do exactly that,” Harold admitted.

In his capacity as division chief of Crimes Against Persons, the task before Harold was a heavy one. Allen was one of their own. A cop Dan had known, as Harold pointed out, for many years. That was the part that made this whole mess so unpalatable. To that end, just as Dan would not permit this investigation to drag Jess more deeply into the muck than speculation had already managed to do, he didn’t want questions about Allen’s loyalty to the department to play out in the media.

“For now, as far as the world knows, Captain Ted Allen is a victim of unknown circumstances,” Dan clarified. “We need the community’s eyes and ears on this one without unnecessary scrutiny.”

“Someone somewhere saw or heard something,” Harold agreed. “All we need is to have that someone come forward.”

Unfortunately that didn’t always happen. “Put a little more pressure on his closest buddies. One of them may know or suspect something they don’t feel comfortable coming forward with just yet.” The code among law enforcement officers was strong, as it should be. No one wanted to be the reason another cop’s reputation was sullied.

“I’ll pursue that avenue personally.” Harold stood. “You’ll pass this news along to Chief Harris? Or, if you prefer, I can speak with her.”

Dan wished there was a way around giving Jess this news. For her own safety, she needed to be kept abreast of where the investigation was on Allen. “She’s waiting in my office now.” At least he hoped she was. He’d sent word to her via Detective Wells since she opted not to answer his calls more often than not lately.

“I won’t keep you, then.”

“For the time being,” Dan said in closing, “I have no choice but to consider potential interim commanders for the gang task force.”

“Schafer’s a good man,” Black mentioned. “He’s worked closely with Allen for more than a year.”

“I’ll keep him in mind.”

Dan followed Harold from the main conference room more frustrated than when he’d arrived half an hour ago, and he would have wagered that was not possible. Allen’s vanishing act was troubling on several levels.

The truly unsettling part was the idea that they had just begun this investigation. A very good possibility existed that things would only get worse from here.

His secretary held up a fistful of messages as he passed her desk, but he waved her off. Those would just have to wait.

“Chief Harris is waiting for you,” she called to him as he reached his office door.

Dan hesitated and turned back to his secretary. “Thank you, Sheila. I’ll take care of those messages later this afternoon.”

She smiled. “I’ll hold your calls.”

Dan returned the smile. He gave himself a mental boot in the ass for failing to show his appreciation of his support staff often enough. Sheila and Tara, his receptionist, kept his office running smoothly. He’d be lost without them. At times like this they only got noticed when they did something wrong and that was wrong.

Jess was waiting. He took a breath and reached for the door once more. Her showing up on time was rare. That was the first good news he’d heard all day.

“I guess turnabout is fair play,” Jess announced as soon as he’d cleared the doorway.

She stood in front of his desk, bag draped on her shoulder as if she had been contemplating leaving. She’d had a hell of a long night and day. She had to be exhausted. Just a few hours before she’d gotten called out to a possible homicide they had broken their number one rule, not once but twice. On her bed…on the kitchen counter…

Get your head in the right place, Burnett. “I apologize for making you wait.” He rounded his desk and took a moment to decide the proper approach for giving her this sensitive news.

As if he’d telegraphed the thought, Jess’s gaze narrowed. “What’s going on? The only time you stay over there”—she pointed to his position behind his desk—“instead of sitting over here with me”—she hitched her thumb to one of the two chairs stationed in front of his desk—“is when there’s trouble.”

He’d have to remember that next time. Though generally whatever he’d hoped to recall went out the window when they were alone together without his desk between them. Today, however, it was important that he keep his head on straight. “Let’s have a seat and catch up on what we have so far.”

She stood there, arms crossed over her chest, for several frustrating ticks of the mega-tense muscle in his cheek. He resisted the urge to work his jaw or reach up and rub at the damned twitch. As if she understood exactly how long she could hold out before he exploded, she finally sat, crossed those long, toned legs, and stared at him expectantly.

For the first time in nearly two hours, he let his guard down and said aloud the words that had turned to stone in his gut. “We found Captain Allen’s SUV. It was parked at the Amtrak station over on Morris.”

She tried to hide her initial reaction but he saw the pain and worry creep into her expression. “Was he found?”

Dan shook his head. “Just the vehicle.”

They had no body. No evidence that Allen had been harmed or kidnapped. He’d simply vanished. How the hell did a fifteen-year veteran of the force go AWOL? Leave his family in the lurch? Possibly try to kill a colleague? It didn’t add up. Particularly since none of his credit cards had been used and the money he and his wife had in savings was still there—every dime of it.

“Then we don’t know any more than we did,” Jess said, sounding disappointed and frustrated. “No way he just vanished into thin air.” She seemed to be talking more to herself than to him. “It’s a simple matter of physics, mass occupies space.”

He didn’t miss the hint of hope she tried to cover with the frustration in her tone. Her feelings were understandable. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Allen’s case solved, but until his body was found, there was at least reason to hope that maybe, possibly, he was alive. But in Dan’s opinion, they were kidding themselves to hold on to any optimism.

Besides, if Allen was alive, unless he was a prisoner, he had changed sides and was now a criminal. Was that better or worse than the theory that he’d been murdered?

Dan heaved a sigh. He couldn’t put this part off any longer. “We also got his cell phone records.”

Denial instantly started to cloud her expression. She instinctively understood that this had something to do with her. “Have any calls been made since he dropped off the map?”

“No.” Like Dan, she didn’t want to deal with the monumental and dark possibilities this case opened up but sadly it was necessary.

The silence hung between them like a black cloud.

“The last time his cell reached out to a tower, it was near your place, Jess. Around four Friday morning.”

For another three beats she stared at him. He saw the moment when full comprehension dawned on her. Her shoulders slumped and uncertainty replaced the denial in her expression.

“My Audi was tampered with sometime before I got up that morning…I had to call Lori for a ride and…” She blinked, disbelief widening her eyes. “So he really is the one.”

“We can’t prove he installed the explosive in the Taurus you were driving last week. He was in the motor pool the day I ordered the Taurus for you. The clerk admitted he’d gone outside for a smoke while Allen was there. As for your personal vehicle, we can only assume that given what happened with the Taurus, Allen intended to do the same with your Audi and was interrupted or ran out of time for some reason. Since we can’t prove either one just yet, we’re keeping that part out of the media. But we both know how this looks.”

“Why would he do that?” Jess shook her head. “I’ve made a lot of serious enemies in the past.” She looked away. “But they’re usually the bad guys. Not other cops.”

“If Allen did this,” Dan said, “he is a bad guy, Jess. Just because he carries a badge doesn’t make him immune.” He wanted to round this damned desk and hold her. Damn propriety.

As if she feared he would do exactly that, she stood and squared her shoulders. “Anything else?” She smoothed a hand over her skirt to avoid eye contact. “I have a murder case to get back to.”

Apparently he had been wrong about which part of this briefing he dreaded the most. This next part had his gut clenching. Or, hell, maybe it was just saying it all out loud to her. “We need to go over your Audi again, Jess. Check for prints and anything else he may have left behind. And your apartment.”

Rather than argue as he’d expected, she wiped her face clean of emotion and said, “I’m a person of interest. I understand that. I’ll talk to my landlord and set it up. Anything else?”

“You understand how important this is and that it’s not about you having done anything wrong. No one’s calling you a person of interest, Jess.” Not as long as he was chief of police. He searched her face, her eyes, needing to be absolutely certain she was okay with how this was going down. He hated like hell that any part of this made her feel guilty or threatened.

“Of course they are. We all know what constitutes a person of interest. I’m connected to this, Dan. Good or bad, I’m connected. And just because the guy didn’t like me and may have tried to kill me and then disappeared doesn’t mean I did anything wrong. I’m sure no one thinks that.” She laughed, the sound hardly amusing. “My landlord barely knows me but he surely won’t think I’m guilty of any wrongdoing. I’m certain he’s just wishing he hadn’t picked such a troublesome tenant.”

He couldn’t take it any longer. Dan bolted around his desk. As if he’d intended to grab her and throw her over his desk for an encore of last night’s out-of-control lovemaking, she backed up a step, bumped into the chair. Damn it. He stood there, helpless, wishing he could hold her for just a moment, but she didn’t want that. She wanted to play by the rules.

Rules he knew better than to break—for all the good that knowledge had done him last night. Or now.

“You absolutely did not do anything wrong, Jess,” he said, going for soft but sounding rough. “Your landlord will understand. I’ll clear it with him if you’d like.” He wouldn’t mind an opportunity to talk to the guy again. He still had reservations about that setup.

“Not necessary.” Jess dug in her bag for her pad and pencil. “Give me a time frame so I can run it by Mr. Louis.”

“The sooner the better.” Dan forced his body to relax. Harold was actually pushing for today to get into Jess’s apartment, but Dan wasn’t springing that on her. It was past one now. The man would just have to cool his heels until tomorrow.

Jess made herself a note, then jammed everything back where she’d gotten it inside that bottomless pit of a leather bag she hauled around. “I’ll take care of it. Anything else?”

She’d asked that three times already, angling for some indication that the meeting was over so she could get back to work. She was the strongest woman he had ever known.

Despite just how shitty this day had been so far, he felt a smile coming on. She hadn’t dried her hair after her shower. Back in college, she had always complained if he tried distracting her before her hair was dry after a shower. Just like back then, that mass of blond locks looked all wavy and sexy. She’d made a halfhearted effort at a ponytail but wisps had worked their way loose. And the glasses. She didn’t wear them all the time, but when she did, he couldn’t help thinking of that old classic eighties video for “Hot for Teacher.”

“This is exactly what got us into trouble last night,” she warned.

He snapped out of the lust coma and slid his hands into his pockets. “You’re right. We broke your number one rule.” No point pretending he didn’t know what she meant. She was the only woman who had ever made him want to break the rules.

“Our rule, Burnett.” She cocked an eyebrow. “We should show a bit more restraint next time, wouldn’t you say?”

“We should.” He would try. He really would.

“How long will they need my car?”

It took a sec for him to shake off the I-want-you fog wrapped around his brain and to focus on the answer to her question. “You’ll have it back tomorrow. You can use one from the motor pool tonight.”

“I don’t think so.” Her laugh was the real thing this time. “I can catch a ride with one of my detectives, thank you very much.”

“You could catch a ride with me,” he proposed. Smart, Burnett. Spend time alone with her in her apartment again tonight. Way to go, idiot.

She smiled and he felt a little twinge deep in his chest. That smile and those lips had haunted him for two decades. God, he was glad she was back where she belonged. Home. Close to him even if not with him, officially.

“I should get back to work,” she said with a pointed look that told him she had a good idea what was on his mind.

Before he could formulate a response, she gave him her back. At forty-two he shouldn’t still have those moments of uncertainty as to what to say or do next, but here he was watching her go with no idea how to proceed either way.

Jess paused at the door. “By the way, we’re invited to the Baron’s Labor Day party. Mark your calendar, Burnett. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Leaving him dumbfounded by the announcement, she was gone before he could ask how the hell that invitation had come about.

 

See y’all  next Friday for one last sneak peek of REVENGE! Have a safe and fun weekend!

Deb