Chapter Ten

The Rhymester picked his next victim just because she was chosen to host a series of talks about the power of women. What a bunch of claptrap. A bitch encouraging other bitches to become even more delusional than they already were. Terrific.

Women in the workplace, my ass, he thought, smashing his glass beer mug against the table’s edge. The handle snapped off in his hand. A few dots of blood dripped from his fingers. Damn it. Now, see what they’d done. That had been his favorite mug.

The first presentation took place next Wednesday night at the university closest to his house. An evil plan brewed. Wouldn’t it be fitting if he killed her going to the talk? Or, even better, right after she’d finished when she was distracted by the undeserved applause ringing in her ears. He could envision it, and it made him smile.

He would have to get to work immediately, learning her habits. If he was careful, he could do some of that during work hours. There wasn’t much time to prepare, but this target seemed like the right choice. And maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to involve Pamela Clayton and make it a ‘two birds, one stone’ kind of thing.

Then, he’d get a hell of a lot of media coverage, wouldn’t he? The recognition, finally, that he so richly deserved. He glanced up at the worn dartboard on the opposite wall of his bedroom. The entire surface was covered by faces of women, including his ex-wife. Picking up a dart, he grinned and let it fly.

Bullseye.

****

Dayle thought about Elijah as she got ready for bed, a welcome heat stealing over her body. It had been a depressingly long time since spending time with any man excited her. Excited in all of the right ways, from her head to her reluctant heart and beyond. He had to have flaws, everyone did, but they weren’t readily apparent. There were no big, glaring red flags that warned her to run in the opposite direction.

When he’d kissed her, he’d allowed her the opportunity to back off if she wanted to, but she hadn’t. His soft, firm lips had tempted her just enough to sense there was much more to come. Would he carry that same focused attention into the bedroom?

She certainly hoped so. Her body had responded in a way she’d almost forgotten it could.

Settling for an average relationship didn’t suit her. Doing that in her first marriage was her deepest regret. She’d been lonely and looking for lasting companionship. Her ex-husband’s caveman behavior had forever cured her of putting up with abusers. She had paid dearly for making a disastrous choice.

She carried the seductive thoughts about Elijah to bed, having satisfying dreams for a change. If compelling dreams translated to reality, she’d have a lot more enjoyment in store.

On Tuesday night, she took a few hours to herself after work and looked into a volunteering opportunity. One of the local women’s shelters was searching for some career women who could help their clients re-enter the professional world. The general idea was to persuade local vendors to commit free clothing, beauty treatments, and other image enhancers to help those who were looking for a fresh start. She could do that. She knew how to elicit a positive response, a necessity in her job.

Locating the old, brick building had been easy with the help of a friendly cab driver. The manager, Sara Towers, met her at the door, welcoming her. She had just begun a guided tour of the facility when, turning a corner, they almost bumped into Elijah. An unexpected flush of pleasure came over her. “Hi. What are you doing here?”

He smiled, the gesture lighting his eyes. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

Sara said, “Oh, you two know each other.” She smiled. “Detective Black is considering awarding us some private funding.” Turning toward him, she added, “And Ms. Stockard is interested in helping the transition team for our clients who want to re-enter the professional world.” Pausing, she looked back and forth between the two of them. “Would you like to take the rest of the tour together?”

They both agreed and followed her first into the large playroom. A large, older model television sat in one cramped corner, framed by worn wooden shelves packed with toys and games. Children gathered in small groups, playing board games he recognized from his youth. They looked up at the adults, their faces latching onto Mrs. Towers for reassurance, but clearly wary about their presence.

She smiled to calm them, then lowered her voice. “This is one of the rooms we’d like to update. We currently have to use it as a school area as well, and there’s definitely room for improvement.” Walking to the other end, which was empty, she said, “We have enough space here for desks, shelves, and a few computers, but we currently lack the resources. Our plan is to stress that education can be a road out of their current situation.”

They ventured down a long hall and made their way to the kitchen. Although it was a spacious room with good light from several large windows, the older appliances appeared to be on their last legs. “The basics are here for a good setup,” Dayle said, trying to be positive.

The other woman nodded. “I agree. The appliances, though, are running on borrowed time. Replacing all of them would be very expensive. And we could save more money on groceries if we had a freezer.”

Elijah stared at the long, bare wall on the opposite side from the appliances, his eyes narrowed. “Where does everyone eat?”

“In the playroom.”

“So, the playroom does triple duty—play, school, and dining?”

“Yes.” She smiled. Dayle realized how tired she looked, with dark shadows around her eyes. “It’s not ideal, but we make it work.”

He paused, and she could tell he was calculating. “What if you built a long, farm style table along that wall with shelving overhead? It wouldn’t cost much, but then the children, at least, would have somewhere more comfortable to eat.”

She sighed. “In a perfect world, we could have that, too, but we have more pressing priorities. There are always necessities battling with desires.” Nodding, he took a small pad from his pocket and made a few notes.

Their final stop was to the bedroom hall. As Dayle trailed the other two inside, she brushed a tear from her eye. The few women who sat on the beds looked frightened when they saw Elijah. Mrs. Towers explained that he was a policeman, but her assurance didn’t seem to help calm them. The shelter staff had tried to do their best with the available funds, but the room depressed Dayle. The mismatched beds looked to be in poor repair, the bedcovers worn. The drab, gray walls lent credence to the need for change. “How many families stay here on a regular basis?” she asked.

“We can help twenty families, but that’s at maximum capacity.” She frowned. “Sadly, we have to turn away people all the time which breaks my heart.”

“Have you seen everything you want to see?” he asked Dayle, compassion in his gaze.

“Yes.” She smiled to reassure him.

He turned to the other woman. “Is it all right if we talk in your office? And may Dayle join us?”

“Of course.” Mrs. Towers bustled down the hall to a tiny, crowded office. “I’m sorry it’s so small. I hate to take any space away from the families.” She sat behind her scarred desk to leave barely enough room for the two of them to take a seat on the remaining chairs. “Is there anything else I can tell you or show you to help make your decision easier?”

He waited until Dayle sat before taking his own seat. “Yes. If you could have an assistant, would that be of help to you?”

A wistful smile appeared. “Oh, that would be wonderful, but I don’t see it ever happening. As you know, our list of needs is long. Squeaking by with minimal staff means more food on the table for everyone. It’s a question of priorities.”

“How many hours a week are you currently working?”

Both guilt and fatigue showed in her eyes. “About seventy. Sometimes my husband comes to help me out so we can spend more time together. I try to keep it to fewer hours, but it’s hard to say no when there’s so many families in need.”

The poor woman. It must be exhausting. She worked long hours, too, but the work wasn’t so emotionally draining. She stayed silent, letting Elijah continue.

“I understand. I must say I was very impressed by how far you’ve managed to stretch your current funding. That can’t be easy.”

Her expression lightened. “Thank you, Detective Black. I’ve become quite adept at sniffing out deals.”

He smiled. “You can call me Elijah. I think we’re going to be seeing a lot more of each other in the coming months.”

She paused, then looked back and forth between the two of them, an expression of hope blooming on her face. “Do you mean—”

“I mean that it’s clear the items on your wish list are both reasonable and necessary for the future of this facility. I am going to give you and your board the entire amount you requested.”

She burst into tears. Elijah looked at Dayle, panicked eyes signaling his need for assistance. Understanding that he didn’t know what to do, she stood to hug the other woman. “It’s wonderful news,” she murmured, feeling the woman’s shoulders shake with emotion.

After a moment, she pulled away, wiping her eyes. “Oh, my goodness, I’m so sorry. I’m a little over-tired, I’m afraid.” She reached forward to take his hand in hers. “Thank you so much, Elijah. You can’t possibly know what your generosity means to us.”

“You’re welcome. If you like, we can find some volunteers at our precinct to help paint and build a few things. That would mean we could afford to add the table in the kitchen and storage as well. And I have a few ideas about how to design a better floorplan for the sleeping areas.”

“I would love to hear all of your ideas,” she said. “I’m kind of a jack of all trades around here, and I can always use another perspective. And having extra pairs of hands to help would be an incredible blessing.”

“Good. I also think we can eventually cover the cost of an assistant as well, but we’ll get started on the other things first.” He stood, glancing at his watch. “I’ll let you inform your board members. If you give me your banking information, I’ll have the amount transferred within the next few days. In the meantime, we should head out, so you can get everyone settled down for the night.”

“I’ll email the bank information first thing in the morning.” She followed them, her smile beaming, to the door. After they said goodnight, she closed the door behind them. Right after, they heard the slide and snap of a heavy bolt. Dayle turned and hugged Elijah. She could feel his surprise, then his arms closed around her. “That was more emotional than expected,” he murmured.

“Those poor people.” She pulled away to look up at him. “It makes you realize just how lucky we are.”

“Yes. Next time I complain, feel free to lecture me.”

“As long as you do the same to me.” They walked down the driveway. “It must be wonderful to be able to help people like that.”

“It’s my first time. Even though it’s not really my money, I enjoyed helping.”

“Not your money?”

He shrugged. “It was entrusted to me for the specific purpose of helping people in this situation. I don’t consider it mine.”

How many men would give away that kind of cash? She’d heard rumors it was millions. “You’re a kind and generous man.”

“I try to be. I’ve been incredibly lucky in my life to have the family I did. It’s nice to help others who haven’t had it so easy.” When they reached the sidewalk, he paused. “Did you take a cab?”

“Yes.”

“I have my car. Let me drive you home.”

“Thank you. I’d like that.”

They spoke more about his ideas on how to improve the center and, before she knew it, they arrived at her door. She leaned over and kissed him. This time, even more, she felt the building heat as her chest rubbed against him. Not the time or the place, she thought with disappointment, pulling away. Reaching a hand up, she stroked his cheek. “Goodnight, Elijah.”