2:30 p.m.
I’ve initiated a separate investigation into this tampering,” Burnett explained from his standing position behind his desk. The man hadn’t been still since she walked into his office. “We will find out how this happened, Jess. You can count on that.”
His face wasn’t as red as it had been when she first arrived, but he was still markedly upset.
“Who’s lead in the investigation?” Jess crossed her legs. She worked at keeping her foot from tapping. He wasn’t the only one upset. She hated that she had let the fear slip so deeply under her skin, but there was no denying it.
“Harold’s on top of it.” Burnett loosened his tie. “He asked to take the lead.” Fury visibly tightened his lips. “He’s already grilling personnel in the car pool. The whole place is on lockdown.”
Jess resisted the urge to ask why he didn’t consider Deputy Chief Harold Black a suspect. But that would be her ego talking. She and Black had seriously butted heads over a case and likely would do the same in the future, but Harold Black was a loyal cop.
No use pretending she could keep the break-in to herself. If someone was this serious about taking her down, she couldn’t afford to flirt with that particular denial. “There’s something…”
He planted his hands on his hips and fixed that look on her—the look that warned she wasn’t going to like whatever he said next. “Jess, it’s time for you to admit this threat is serious. I want you off the streets. Period. Harold said he would step in and take the reins while you work in the background.”
Not only did she not like that suggestion, she was not going to listen to another word, much less tell him about the break-in. How could she get her job done like this? She reached into her bag and pulled out her pad and pencil. While he watched, she wrote a short, sweet note, then passed it to him.
“Bullshit!” He crushed her resignation and tossed it across the room. “This is not a game, Jess. This is—”
Jess stowed her stuff and stood. “You can have someone follow me around and I’ll concede to having Harper or Wells with me every minute on the job. But”—she held up a hand when he would have interrupted—“ but if you push this idea that I have to duck and run for cover, I will resign.”
The standoff lasted another five seconds. “You try to evade protection,” he warned, “and I swear, I’ll put you in protective custody.”
He was forgetting a little thing called her civil rights. He was upset. She was upset. But this case—finding Devon Chambers alive and nailing Gabrielle Grayson’s killer—was more important than either of their egos.
“I will not attempt to evade my assigned protection.” Unless it’s absolutely necessary. “Can we move on now?”
He rubbed at his forehead as if a headache had started there. “Sure.”
She resumed her seat and he finally settled into his. She gave him a rundown of what they’d learned from Netty Winters, the nurse who once worked with Gabrielle Grayson. “Wells and I are following up with Trenton as soon as I’m finished here.”
“I want to know where you are and who you’re with at all times.”
Jess flashed him a fake smile. “Then you’d better make sure whoever’s pulling surveillance knows to relay that information to you.” She grabbed her stuff and stood. “I will let you know if there are any major developments.”
Her cell clanged before Burnett could argue with her last word. She dug for it and checked the screen.
Leslie Chambers.
Worry got a good sharp jab into her gut. “Harris.” To Burnett, she whispered, “It’s Devon’s sister.”
He nodded his understanding.
“You have to help me,” Leslie cried. “The people from Child Protective Services are here. They’re asking about Devon. I don’t know what to do.”
“I’ll be right there, Leslie. Tell them to wait.”
Jess shoved her phone into her bag, anger sparking. Though she understood this was the way the system worked and whoever had showed up at Leslie’s door was only doing their job, the timing made her mad as hell. One way or another she would see that Leslie and Devon were not separated under any circumstances.
Assuming they found him alive…
4:05 p.m.
Jess waited until the introductions were out of the way and then she let the kindly looking woman named Selma Peterson from Child Protective Services have it. Politely, of course.
“Ms. Peterson, I appreciate and respect what you’re doing. I’m certain your job is rarely pleasant or simple. Unfortunately I’m about to make things a lot more complicated. This young woman and her brother, who is currently missing, are persons of interest in an ongoing homicide case. Until that case is solved or I tell you otherwise, you have no authority to question her. So, with all due respect, I will need you to leave these premises and not return until I’ve instructed otherwise.”
Ms. Peterson looked from Jess to her colleague, Heather Phipps, and back. “Frankly, Chief Harris, I’m speechless. In my career of twenty-four years I have never had an officer of the law speak to me in such a manner.”
Jess gifted her with a patient smile. “Well, ma’am, I’m awful sorry if you took anything I said the wrong way, but, if you have any questions, my boss is Chief of Police Daniel Burnett. You can direct any questions you, your colleague here, or your supervisor have to him. You have a good day now.”
The two women grumbled about rude cops and rules all the way out the door. As soon as they were gone, Jess turned to Leslie. “I don’t know what repercussions might come from that, so we’re going to get you moved someplace else until this is over.”
Leslie shook her head. “I can’t go anywhere. If Devon comes back he won’t know what to do.”
“Leslie.” Jess pulled her down to the sofa, since she looked as if she were about to drop. “We have your brother’s psychologist and two other specialists working with our search commander. We have Devon’s picture everywhere. We have an officer watching your home. If he comes back, we’ll know it. My top priority at this moment is to ensure your safety as well as your peace of mind.”
“I promise I’m fine.” Her voice shook.
“Have you eaten today?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“How about I order your favorite pizza?” Lori suggested. “My treat.”
Leslie looked from Jess to Lori and back. “Cheese is my favorite.”
Lori smiled. “Done.”
“Chief Harris,” Leslie interrupted before Jess could resume, “do you have a brother or sister?”
Jess blinked. “Yes, I do. A sister.” A sister who might be very sick. An ache twisted deep inside Jess.
“If this were your sister missing like this,” Leslie said, her worried gaze searching Jess’s, “would you leave?”
She had her there. “Okay, you win. Let’s go over the rules again and I’ll give you an update on the search.”
Leslie grabbed her and hugged her. Startled, Jess wasn’t sure how to respond at first. Then she just went with it and hugged the girl back.
Edgewater Condominiums, 5:30 p.m.
Johnny Trenton had managed to save up enough for a down payment on a low-end condo in Homewood. There was a pool and plenty of other folks his age. Just went to show that before the housing crash mortgage lenders would approve a loan for anyone, whatever their source of income.
Lori spotted Trenton lying on a chaise near the glistening pool. Jess could have gone the rest of her life without seeing the guy in a mankini and tanning oil. Why any woman would consider a self-serving player like him attractive she would never know.
Jess stared down at the glistening creep and wished she had saved the ice from the Pepsi she’d hit a drive-through for on the way here so she could cool him off before he scorched every female on the property.
“I’m sure you’re enjoying the view,” he said without opening his eyes, “but you’re blocking my sun.”
“We should step out of the way, Detective. We wouldn’t want to block his sun.”
Trenton’s eyes popped open but he didn’t bother getting up. “Chief Harris, what an unexpected pleasure.”
He looked her up and down with that usual smirk he wore most likely when any breathing female was in his line of sight.
Evidently not wanting to play favorites, Trenton gave Lori the same appraisal. Lori rolled her eyes.
“Remember I said we might need to speak with you again?”
“Yes, ma’am. I surely do.” He got up and stretched to ensure everyone around got a good look at his mostly naked body.
“Would you like to talk here or some place more private?” Jess asked.
“Come on up to my place.” He grabbed his towel. “I think I might even have some lemonade in the fridge.”
Like she would drink anything he had in his fridge if she were dying of thirst.
His condo was on the first floor with a slider leading to the pool. Not as bad as she’d expected. The décor was blasé but the place was spacious and relatively tidy.
When they had settled around the coffee table, Lori reminded him, “Mr. Trenton, your rights were explained to you when you were interviewed previously. Do you need me to read them again?”
He shook his head. “I have nothing to hide and as far as I know I don’t need an attorney. So shoot.” He smiled at Jess. “I’m ready for whatever you got.”
“Mr. Trenton,” Jess flipped through her notes just to make him nervous, “do you recall threatening Gabrielle Grayson when you were a patient at New Life Rehab Center three years ago?”
He flinched. “I do.” He shook his head. “I was a genuine asshole to Gabrielle. But, like I told you, she wouldn’t let me give up. She kept on urging me to hang in there even though I threatened her seven ways to Sunday. I called her every imaginable ugly name. But she never gave up. She’s the reason I got clean and stayed that way.”
“Why didn’t you mention this when I questioned you on Monday?” Jess hated wasting her time. This investigation was far too important to cater to his massive ego.
“It’s not the kind of thing I want to brag about. Besides, that was someone else. It wasn’t the man you’re sitting here talking to now. Gabrielle saved my life. There is no way in this world I would have done anything to harm her.” He looked away then. “I pretend to be all nonchalant and like I don’t care about anything but I care that she’s gone. I hate like hell that some sick son of a bitch gangbanger did this to her.” His jaw tightened with the fury Jess heard in his words. “I hope they kill each other until the fuckers are extinct.”
Now there was a thought. Only, a gangbanger didn’t kill Gabrielle.
“Mr. Trenton,” Jess offered, “I’m going to go out on a limb here. I believe you when you say you would never have hurt Gabrielle. But I need you to think long and hard about your relationship with her.” She had to be careful. She couldn’t put words in his mouth. Yet she wanted desperately to get a break in this case. The only way that was going to happen was if someone who knew Gabrielle started talking. “Did you ever see or hear anyone do or say anything that might have developed into the motive for murder? Did she have a boyfriend? Did her husband have a girlfriend? Was anything going on that signaled trouble?”
His shoulders slumped. “Honest to God, I wish I knew something. But there’s just nothing to know. Gabrielle’s whole life revolved around that kid and her husband. She got frustrated sometimes, mainly I think, because she was used to working outside the home. But she was happy. Her husband was happy as far as I know. He wasn’t usually around when I worked on the pool. He didn’t like her associating with anyone like me. Can’t say that I blame him. Most addicts who had it as bad as I did don’t stay clean. But I had Gabrielle. There was no way I was going to fail.”
“On Monday,” Jess countered, “you said Gabrielle’s husband wasn’t taking care of her needs. That her child was driving her nuts. Which is it, Mr. Trenton? The woman you hold in such high regard is dead. Someone cut off her head and stabbed her body ten times. Imagine what she must have suffered.” That wasn’t true but he didn’t know that. “Don’t you want us to find the person who did this?”
Cocky, full-of-himself Johnny Trenton cried. Like a baby. Jess felt like a total buttwad.
Lori shrugged and grabbed a paper towel for him to dry his eyes.
“Okay,” he mumbled, then sniffed. “I know I said Gabrielle was unhappy, but she wasn’t. Not really.” He looked at Jess with watery eyes. “Gabrielle loved her son more than life. She almost never complained. And she worshipped her husband. He could do no wrong in her eyes. She set the standard for being a wife and mother.”
There it was. More proof of Gabrielle Grayson’s sainthood.
How the hell was Jess supposed to solve a case when everything was so perfect?
Except for the fact that a woman was dead.
And a little boy was missing.
Outside, Jess dropped into the passenger seat of Lori’s Mustang. It was hot as blazes and she was exhausted and disgusted and mad as hell. What jerk disliked her so much he would try to blow her up?
Lori started the car. “Wow. I feel like I just walked off the set of an episode of Dr. Phil.”
Jess laughed, sort of. She was too tired and overwhelmed to really laugh, but it was a start. She adjusted the air-conditioning vents. “So, her former coworkers and patients think Gabrielle walked on water. We know there is little or no likelihood this was a gang hit.”
“Don’t forget her neighbors,” Lori added. “Everyone we talked to thought she was super mom. We got nothing but rave reviews.”
Didn’t add up. All those post mortem stab wounds spoke of the killer’s rage. “This killer had to be someone who knew her. Hated her. Was envious of her. Or feared her somehow.”
Their gazes locked. Lori spoke first. “All her friends are cops and cops’ wives.”
As unpopular as exploring that avenue would be with the whole department, they had no choice but to take this investigation right there. “Grayson’s mother-in-law is home now. We need to nail down an interview with Sarah Riley. She has no more excuses.”
“She’s put me off every time I call,” Lori complained.
“She and her husband are closer to the Graysons than anyone,” Jess said, mostly to herself. “We need that interview.” They needed a hell of a lot more than that. “We need whoever the hell was close enough to know Grayson’s work schedule and whoever Gabrielle knew well enough to let into her house at that time of night.
“We need,” she said, frustrated and tired, “to find whatever it is that prompted a motive strong enough to kill a woman and then mutilate her body.”
Find the motive, find the killer.
9911 Conroy Road, 8:40 p.m.
Jess’s new surveillance detail parked on the street right across from the drive to her place. When she pulled into the drive and shut off the engine of her Audi, her gaze automatically swept up to the top of the garage stairs. There was a man there. He seemed to be doing something to her door.
Good grief! Was she being burglarized?
What next?
She grabbed her Glock, opened her door very carefully, and eased out. The guy still hadn’t moved. He had surely heard her car pull into the drive. How could he have missed her headlights?
Maybe he had a hearing problem. If so, he needed a new line of work.
Could be her landlord. But why didn’t he turn to greet her? Why keep his back to her arrival? She surveyed the back of his house. Lights were on downstairs. He was up it seemed.
Moving cautiously, she made her way to the stairs and slowly started upward. When she was two steps from the landing, her weapon in hand but aimed downward, she cleared her throat in hopes of alerting the man to her presence.
He turned around, seeming startled. This was no young man. Sixty-five or seventy. Eyeglasses with very thick lenses. Thin gray hair. Had to be her landlord.
“Mr. Louis?”
“Chief Harris, I presume?” He passed a hammer to his left hand and offered his right for her to shake.
Jess shifted the Glock to her left hand and accepted his gesture. His grip was firm. Steady. “Yes, sir. That’s me. Sorry about the gun. But I thought someone was breaking in.”
He shook his head. “We don’t ever have any trouble like that around here. It’s quiet. Peaceful.”
She could argue that point but she opted not to. Her problems had nothing to do with the neighborhood.
“I’m almost done here,” he said. “I noticed when the locksmith was here that some of the trim around the door was loose.” He pointed to the strips of painted wood around the frame. “I thought I’d tack them back into place and freshen the paint. So be careful, it’s still a little wet.”
That was when she noticed the bucket of white paint and well-used brush. She also noticed there was light. He’d taken care of the outdoor light on the landing.
“Thank you for taking such good care of me.” She gestured back to her car. “I’ll just get my stuff.”
“I’ll clean up and then I’ll be out of your way. With this heat, I have to wait until the sun goes down for outside maintenance.”
“Smart plan.” She smiled before turning to hustle back down to her car. She grabbed her shopping bag and the Chinese takeout she’d picked up on the way home. By the time she reached the top of the stairs again, Mr. Louis had finished his work and was preparing to be on his way.
She waved the box. “I picked up Chinese. I always order far too much. Would you like to join me for my first meal in my new place?”
He shook his head. “I couldn’t do that.”
“Please. I’d love to have the company.”
He kind of shuffled his feet and gave a vague nod.
“Great.” She picked through the keys and unlocked the door. After the day she’d had she could use the distraction and she needed to get to know her landlord. She flipped on the interior light and walked in. “Feels way better in here.” The heat index had neared another record today. Thank goodness the air-conditioning was up to par in this place.
“I repaired the light.” Louis pointed to the light outside her door, then flipped the necessary switch to turn it off then on.
“I can’t thank you enough.” She dumped the load in her arms on the table. “Maybe I’ll get one of those automatic thingies that makes the light come on at dark. My schedule is so crazy I never know what time I’ll get home.”
He nodded, his gaze directed more at the floor than at her. “I can install a sensor for you.”
“That’d be great. You can add the charge for the work onto my rent.”
He shook his head. “No charge. That’s part of being a good landlord.”
He needed to spread that word around. “Well come on in. Have a seat.” She gestured to the table. “I haven’t had time to get a sofa yet.”
Rather than take a seat, he waited a few feet away and watched as she spread the dinner on the counter. “Bottled water okay with you? I don’t have any beer or wine.” She wasn’t much of a host.
“I don’t drink alcohol.”
Oops. She should have considered that possibility. Lil said he was at church every Sunday and though Lil drank wine, not all churchgoers approved of alcohol consumption. Jess checked the bag to ensure they’d included more than one set of chopsticks. Usually they did, since they assumed she was ordering for two or more.
What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. She might go all day without eating but when she did, she made up for the missed meals.
“We can eat in here or sit on the steps. I’m planning to get a glider for the deck.” She laughed. “Eventually.”
The sound of a car door slamming outside had her guest turning toward the door neither of them had bothered to close.
“I should get back to the house.” Louis backed up the two or three steps he had taken. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
Before Jess could argue he had snagged his toolbox, rags, and paint can and hurried across the landing and headed down the steps. She walked outside to see that he got down the stairs in one piece at that speed and with both hands full. The new arrival was Wesley. And she looked a mess. Too late to do anything about that. She ordered her jittery nerves to settle down. It was only Wesley. He’d probably spoken to Lopez’s people and had an update for her.
Wesley nodded and said hello as he and Mr. Louis passed. Louis didn’t appear to say anything but maybe he spoke too softly for Jess to hear. He just kept going as fast as he could walk until he’d disappeared into his house.
Nice man but quite peculiar.
“I brought dinner.” Wesley held up a bag that looked oddly familiar. “And wine.” He held up a bottle next.
“The wine will get you in the door for sure. But I hope you have a corkscrew and glasses. Otherwise we’re doomed to merely admire your taste in wine.”
When he was inside they laughed over the idea that they had chosen the same fast-food restaurant. That was one of the things that had drawn her to Wesley. They thought so much alike, or so it had seemed.
Not only had he brought a corkscrew and wineglasses, both of which were housewarming gifts, he had brought a blanket, which he promptly spread on the floor for their dining experience.
Jess couldn’t deny enjoying his company and the food. Not to mention the wine.
But she knew Wesley well enough to know that he wasn’t here just for dinner and conversation.
“I’m leaving tomorrow.”
“I see.” She’d wondered when that would happen. There was little more he could do here.
“Leonardo Lopez returned to Los Angeles late this afternoon. Based on our conversation, I must admit there appears to be merit to his allegations of a mole in my organization.” Wesley swirled the wine in his glass. “That’s difficult for me to believe but it’s my duty to explore those allegations.”
“What does he want in return?” Jess cradled her second glass of wine. “He wants something, I’m certain.” Lopez had mentioned wanting immunity for his daughter. Jess hoped he wouldn’t win that negotiation.
“If his claims prove true,” Wesley said with obvious reluctance, “he wants probation for his daughter. To keep this business out of the media, his wish may very well be granted.”
Jess downed the rest of her wine, a stall tactic to prevent speaking before thinking. The wine didn’t do a thing to slow down her building outrage. “You’re telling me that his daughter’s charges, which include kidnapping me, will likely be lessened to basically nothing if you can verify his claims.” That stunk like three-day-old roadkill in the middle of August.
Wesley refilled her glass. “You’re aware of the way these things work, Jess. You have to give to get.”
Yes, she was all too aware. “Seems incredible that our own people can create this sort of a predicament. And we don’t ever want to believe that evil can be working right alongside us. We walk around assuming the best of everyone until the knife is plunged into our back.”
Like the idea that someone in the Birmingham Police Department had rigged a bomb in her borrowed car. She glanced at her door. Not to mention broke into her place and left that message.
Wesley hummed a sound of agreement. “That’s the part of this job that gets to me the most. To know that one of us is capable of selling out to that kind of monster.”
Jess knew better than to ask any questions. So far he hadn’t mentioned the incident with the car. Her guess was Burnett hadn’t shared. She didn’t plan to either. “Just make sure Lopez gives you enough to get the bastard.”
Wesley held up his glass. “To getting the bad guys.”
“Hear, hear.” Jess bumped his glass and took a long drink.
“I’ve realized many things the past few days, Jess.”
She tangled her chopsticks in the lo mein. “Such as.”
“I’ve missed you.” When she looked up he was staring at her. “One day, when we have some time, we need to talk about that.”
“Wesley.” Her stomach knotted with the mix of emotions his words evoked. “I’ve missed you, too.” It was the truth. She wasn’t going to lie. She might never see him again. She had made a promise to herself not to take another moment for granted and she intended to keep that promise. “But I’m happy with my life here just as it is.”
That part was the truth, too. She was happy. For the first time in a long while.
“It’s Burnett, isn’t it?” he asked at last.
She’d expected that one. “It’s far more complicated than that.” She couldn’t explain to him what she didn’t fully understand herself. “Burnett and I have a history that’s difficult to define. My happiness at the moment is about a lot more than him.”
A smile spread across Wesley’s lips. She had always loved his smile.
“Good for you, Jess.”
She cared for Wesley. Respected and admired him. His approval meant a lot to her. She hoped that, moving forward, they could be friends. Somehow after taking their vows they had lost that ability.
Dinner went by too fast. Jess enjoyed the meal and the conversation more than any they had shared as a married couple. When they’d cleaned up and she’d walked with him to the landing outside her door, a feeling of uncertainty and just a pinch of regret lingered.
“I’ll be in touch.”
“You’d better be.” She hugged her arms around herself. She wished the feeling of uncertainty or restlessness would go away. Would she never see him again? Did she want to?
He leaned down, and for a fraction of a second she couldn’t breathe. Wesley kissed her on the cheek and whispered, “If you ever change your mind you know how to find me.”
And then he took his leave before she could say a word.
Jess watched him drive away and she wondered if their marriage had been her last chance at having the traditional life—the picket fence and the kids.
The need to talk to Dan rushed through her. Would they… could they ever have that? Maybe. She just didn’t know. They’d made that deal about turning sixty but what if one or the other met someone else before then? That was one worry she just didn’t have time for.
She downed the last of her wine. Besides, what did she need with traditional?
She had the unexpected, the unusual. Her gaze settled on the one window in her landlord’s home that poured light into the darkness. Oh yes. She had the unexpected, the unusual, and the peculiar.
What else could a girl want?
Jess turned to go back inside and the lovely stemmed glass Wesley had brought as her housewarming gift slipped out of her hand. She crouched and caught it just before it hit and shattered on the wooden deck floor.
“Oh good grief.” She was tired. Too tired to be entertaining. And having three glasses of wine. Glass firmly in hand, she prepared to push to her feet. Spots on the wood stopped her.
Jess reached down and touched the specks. Red and dried. Not paint. Mr. Louis had been using white paint. Had the spots been there and she just hadn’t noticed? She thought of the bloody message that had been left for her on that photo.
What if her intruder had come back? The new locks had obviously kept him out but maybe he left her a message on the… door?
Jess glanced toward her landlord’s house and then at the door to her rented space. Would he have thought cleaning up the mess was the proper thing to do? Without ever mentioning it to her? That was ridiculous.
“You’re getting paranoid, Jess.”
She went inside and closed the door, taking care to lock it. She washed her glass and placed it on the counter next to the others. Now what? She could better organize her new stock of dry and canned goods in the cabinets.
“Forget it!” She couldn’t ignore the spots.
She dug around in the take-out containers and got one of the chopsticks. After washing it thoroughly, she went back out to her landing and scraped up a specimen of the red spot. There were evidence collection bags in her car, but if she went down to her car the cop doing her surveillance would report that to Burnett. He was already going to get an earful about Wesley’s late-night visit.
She was going to hear about that. Especially if that chaste kiss was mentioned.
Really all she needed was something plastic and clean. After fishing around in her bag for a whole minute she found a Tampax. She removed the packaging and tucked her specimen inside. Might not be sterile but it was clean.
“That works.” She stored the package in the zipper compartment of her bag and then dusted her hands together. First thing tomorrow morning she’d hit up Ricky Vernon at the lab for a favor.
Two brisk knocks on her door made her jump.
It was past ten o’clock. Who in the world…?
Jess stamped toward the door. “Burnett, if that’s you checking up on me, I’m going to be…” She checked the window.
Sylvia Baron?
“What the hell?” Jess opened the door. “You have news on my vic?” The woman couldn’t call with news on the case? Why the heck was she working so late anyway? Surely Burnett hadn’t recruited her to check up on Jess, too.
Baron adopted an offended expression. “Hello to you, too, Harris.” She thrust a large bag at Jess. “That’s for you.” She pushed her way inside and surveyed the space. “So this is your new place.”
Jess closed and locked the door. “Sorry about the yelling.” No way she missed Jess’s tirade. “I was expecting to find Burnett at the door.”
Baron turned to her, her eyebrows arched in skepticism. “Does Chief of Police Burnett make a habit of stopping by at this hour?”
Jess pretended to be mesmerized by the can opener beneath all the fancy yellow paper stuffed in the bag. “Thank you for the gift.” She flashed a smile as she deposited the bag on the table. “Do you make it a habit of stopping by to have refreshments with your ex-husband’s wife on the day she’s murdered?”
Baron’s gaze narrowed. “I told you she called me but we never had that meeting.” Baron folded her arms over her chest and cranked up her haughty meter. “Did you forget to write it down?”
Jess ignored her dig. “Someone came to Gabrielle’s house after eight o’clock Sunday night. Someone she knew.” She matched Baron’s stance. “If it wasn’t you, then who?”
“How would I know? You’re the hotshot cop, why haven’t you figured it out?”
Again, Jess ignored her potshot. “You want coffee?” The woman was here, they might as well accomplish something.
“It’s not instant, is it?” Baron sent a suspect glance toward Jess’s new coffeemaker.
Jess rolled her eyes. “No.” She gave her nifty carousel a spin. “What’s your pleasure?”
Coffee blends selected and cups brewed, they moved to the steps. It was far too nice to stay cooped up inside, especially with no sofa. The oppressive heat had subsided, taking the worst of the humidity with it.
“We’re not dealing with a gangbanger,” Baron said what they both already knew after a lengthy silence. “Burnett tells me there’s still nothing in her background that would suggest an enemy out for revenge.”
“It’s not the husband,” Jess said. She wasn’t even going to pretend to believe otherwise.
Baron turned and stared at her profile.
“I know she called you and was worried about him, but I think it’s about something he was involved in. I just have to find out what that something is.”
Baron made a rather rude harrumphing sound. “Larry Grayson is all about work. That’s what he does. That’s all he does.”
Was that resentment she heard in the assistant coroner’s voice? “Then it has to be related to his work. Whatever it was,” Jess argued. “Gabrielle was scared and needed someone to talk to. Maybe she called you because she thought you had experienced the same problem when you were married to him.”
Baron shrugged. “I considered that possibility.”
Another patch of silence elapsed between them. Someone had to say something. “Everyone she knew loved her,” Jess said. “Doesn’t look like she had any enemies.”
“I know,” Baron admitted. “Clearly she was the saint everyone says she was.”
More of what sounded like resentment dripped from her voice. Jess turned to her. “That doesn’t lessen who you are.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Jess regretted having said them. She and Sylvia Baron weren’t friends. They barely knew each other and Jess wasn’t sure she even liked the woman. She was reasonably certain the woman didn’t like her.
“I know that, too.” Baron’s hands started to shake and she set her coffee cup on the step between her feet so she could clasp them together. “I just keep thinking that if I had made time for her… she would still be alive.” She turned to Jess. “I was wrong to do that, you know. And she’s dead.” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “And maybe that little boy, too. I stood by and did nothing and now…”
God knew Jess had never been a hugger. Never. But this lady needed a hug and somehow they were alike in ways that Jess wanted to deny and, for whatever the reason, some force of nature had ensured their paths crossed at this time in their lives. Jess put down her cup and patted Sylvia Baron on the back, tried to think of something clever and comforting to say. Baron’s shoulders shook and Jess had to hug her. There was no denying the instinct.
The embrace lasted all of three seconds before, as if they’d both taken a big mental step back at the same time, they drew apart.
Jess cleared her throat.
Baron swiped gingerly at her eyes. “Well, that was awkward.”
“We all have our moments.”
They talked a while longer. Around midnight Baron decided it was time to go home.
“Wait.” Jess’s gaze dropped to the wooden deck. “I need a favor.” What were friends for if not to help each other out?
While Baron grumbled, Jess dashed inside and retrieved the specimen from the spots on her floorboards. She offered it to the assistant coroner. “Can you tell me if that’s paint or blood or what?”
Baron took the Tampax packaging between two fingers as if she feared contamination. “Seriously?”
“I didn’t have any plastic bags so I tore the packaging off a new one.” Jess pointed to the couple of spots on the floorboards in front of her door. “Paint or what?”
“I’ll take it home and package it properly and then run the necessary tests in the morning.”
“I appreciate that.” The weight of the day suddenly crashed down and Jess couldn’t remember when she had been this tired.
Baron sniffed the specimen, then frowned. “But I can tell you right now that it’s not paint.”
Deep inside, where her guest couldn’t see, Jess trembled just a little.
“It’s blood.”