Chapter Eleven

 

Jack ran into the squad room, T.J., O’Hara and Carmichael on his heels.

Gemma shoved the phone practically in his face. Words ran across the screen in simple text letters.

TOO MUCH CANDY CAN BE BAD FOR YOU. LAST CHANCE. LIVE OR DIE. YOU CHOOSE.

Gemma gripped her phone, her freckles standing out starkly against her pale skin. “What does he mean by that? What am I supposed to reply?” She didn’t wait for a response. Her fingers were already flying across the tiny keyboard and he read her reply. LET CANDY LIVE, PLEASE!

Behind him, Jack heard O’Hara barking orders on the phone for a tech guy to get up to the squad room.

Gemma’s phone buzzed and her hand flew to her mouth.

The pinched pale look didn’t suit her and only made him angry that the killer was playing with her. “Show me,” Jack said tersely.

She held the phone out for him to see again. TOO LATE. SHE WAS NEVER WORTHY. LET’S PLAY AGAIN.

Jack swore. “This guy’s playing head games.” He didn’t like the stricken look on Gemma’s face and he didn’t like that he cared. He always kept his cool on a case and never let his feelings get involved. But he was knee deep in this one, whether he liked it or not. “Damn it, O’Hara, where’s that tech guy?”

“Should be here soon.” O’Hara replied.

Jack didn’t have time to reply. Gemma’s cell vibrated again. “Incoming text,” she whispered, her eyes wide in her face.

Once again words spilled across her screen, making him want to hurl the damn phone far away, except that doing that wouldn’t change anything. CHAPMAN AVENUE. MAKE IT IN TEN AND MAYBE SHE LIVES.

Gemma grabbed his arm. “Chapman Avenue. That runs North to South, covering nearly the entire city. How are we supposed to find anything?” She hit the reply button and simply typed WHERE? They stood with barely any space between them, staring down at the tiny screen, willing it to offer up some hint about where Candy was being held.

“We can’t wait around for him to contact us.” Gemma’s voice held a tiny sob. “We need to get in the car and start looking now.”

O’Hara lowered the phone from where he was barking orders to Traffic to get the patrol cars on the lookout. “Sam, you and T.J., start from the north and drive south. Jack, you take our girl there and go from the south and head north. Don’t do anything stupid and don’t make me regret letting you both go out on this. If you get another message, I want to know about it yesterday. Got that?”

“Thanks,” Jack said, hurrying Gemma out ahead of him.

As soon as they were in his vehicle, they headed for the south end of Chapman.

Gemma checked her phone, but there was no new message. “Suggestions?”

“We drive the length of the street and keep our eyes peeled.” Jack’s phone rang and he glanced at the screen quickly. “T.J. and Carmichael are approaching from the north.”

The North side began as a residential area that gradually became more commercial as one moved downtown. Once you hit the North-South divide and crossed into the southeast side of the city, the character changed. Stores had bars on the window and graffiti covered some building fronts. Several places advertised for clients, but the area spoke of neglect and decay.

As they drove northward from the south side of the city, Jack scanned the various empty and dilapidated buildings.

“Candy could be in one of these buildings.” Desperation colored Gemma’s voice.

He chose to ignore it, knowing it served no purpose. “Keep looking.” His eyes swept left and right. A few minutes later he asked, “See anything on your side?”

“No. How about you?”

“Nothing. This part of town a dead body could stay hidden for a while before anyone would notice or report it.”

Gemma leaned forward, straining against the seatbelt. “He has to be somewhere with her.” She held up her phone. “Why doesn’t he contact me?”

“He’s playing with us. We just have to be smarter than him.” Jack strayed to the outside lane of the two-lane road and kept his pace slow. Dusk had settled over the city. Not too many people wandered the neighborhood. A few cars lined the streets, but they tended to be old, beat-up vehicles, though one car ahead looked pretty fancy for this area. The shiny black exterior made it stand out.

“What the…” Jack said.

“Stop the car!” Gemma shouted.

Jack yanked the SUV over to the side, right in front of the black Mustang convertible. He got on the radio and requested back up and then had dispatch patch him through to T.J., bringing him up to speed.

Gemma twisted in her seat to look at the car through the rear view window. “That’s the car Candy described, isn’t it?”

“Maybe. Only one way to find out.”

A black and white pulled up beside Jack and he gave the two officers in the car instructions to check the nearby buildings.

“I’m coming with you.” Gemma released her seat belt and climbed out of the SUV.

“Fine,” Jack said over the roof of the vehicle, “but you do as I say. The car is evidence. Don’t touch anything”

Jack removed a small flashlight from the glove compartment. He took the lead, with Gemma a few steps behind. He turned on the flashlight and kept it trained on the convertible the entire time as they approached. When they were close enough to peek inside, Jack swore under his breath. The interior didn’t have so much as a gum wrapper from what he could see.

“What about the trunk?” Gemma asked.

Jack shook his head. “I can’t open the trunk without a court order.”

She reached out clutching at his arm. “We don’t have time for a court order. Candy could be dying.”

“T.J. is working on it. We have nothing to tie this car to Candy’s abduction. We pop the trunk and any evidence there might be is inadmissible. We need probable cause.” He’d always followed the rule of the law, aware of the shadow he walked under. Now, for the first time, he was tempted to ignore the law and do what his gut told him to do.

Gemma’s cell vibrated. She brought it up close to her face and then shoved it in front of his. “How is this for probable cause.”

I LEFT YOU A NICE PRESENT WRAPPED IN FUNERAL BLACK WITH A YELLOW BOW. DO YOU LIKE IT?

Gemma hurried around to the back of the car. “Look!” She pointed at the trunk.

Jack followed and spied the bright yellow ribbon that had been stuck to the trunk. “That son of a—”

“Does that give you probable cause? Hurry!”

“Hang on. We need to be smart about this.” Jack flashed the light around the trunk. He didn’t see anything out of place. He dropped down to check underneath.

“You think he might’ve rigged something?” Gemma’s voice rose.

Jack got to his feet. “I don’t see anything.” He’d be taking a risk in opening the trunk, but with Candy’s life possibly in play, he couldn’t afford not to. “I want you to stand over there by the car.”

Gemma appeared about to argue, then gave a short nod and retreated to the back of his SUV.

Jack took a deep breath, and then felt for the trunk button. It was a long shot, but this creep liked playing head games. He could as easily leave it unlocked as locked. He heard the lock release and tensed, grateful when there was no explosion.

The trunk lid popped up. Gemma ran over and let out a cry.

Like a broken, discarded doll thrown in the trash, Candy lay bent and broken within the dark, confined space.

“Is she—” Gemma choked off the rest of her question.

“I don’t know. Call for an ambulance.” Jack leaned in and carefully felt for a pulse. Her clothes had been sliced in various spots and he saw bloodstains along her legs, arms and torso. Little nicks dotted her neck and a two-inch slice marked her left cheek. Carefully he checked for a pulse.

“She’s lost a lot of blood,” he observed. Was it his imagination, or had her eyelids flickered. “Where’s that ambulance?”

“On its way,” Gemma said. “Shouldn’t we get her out, or cover her?”

“Without knowing what he did to her, we could make things worse by moving her.” Jack contemplated Candy, anger burning in his stomach.

The two officers ran over and Jack barked orders for them to secure the crime scene.

Gemma moved closer and hugged herself. “I hate this. I really hate this.” She lifted her face to the night sky and then lowered it to face him. “I want this guy, Jack. We’ve got to get him before he does this again.

“We’ll get him,” Jack agreed. The sound of the ambulance reached their ears. “The bastard took a chance letting Candy live. She’s a witness now.”

Gemma opened her mouth then closed it. “Do you think he’ll try to kill her if she makes it?”

“Maybe, but I’m not letting that happen.” His hand curled into a fist, and he forced himself to relax and release it.

“Jack, what if he’s watching us? He’ll know if Candy’s alive.” Gemma turned slowly in a circle, examining all the building fronts.

“I’ve got it covered. Now do me a favor and stay over there by the car. It’s going to be a long night.”

***

It was four in the morning when Jack pulled into Gemma’s driveway. She guessed he normally would’ve crashed at the station, but he’d insisted on taking her home. She hadn’t had the energy to argue. Her niece needed to see her in the morning, especially since she hadn’t been there at bedtime.

Inside, Jack headed directly for the couch. Gemma was grateful to see that Sylvie had expected him and prepared the sofa with a sheet and blanket as well as a pillow.

“What time do you want to be back at the station?” Gemma asked softly.

He rubbed the back of his neck, exhaustion clearly evident. “No later than nine. It isn’t much time to sleep. You can stay here and I’ll have a patrol keep an eye on your place in the morning.”

Gemma shook her head. “I need to call the hospital early and get an update.” The doctors still weren’t sure if Candy would live through the night, as she’d lost a lot of blood through tiny, mostly shallow cuts all over her body. A few hadn’t been so shallow and the slice on her face had required a number of stitches. If she lived, she’d have scars on every part of her body, but at least she’d be alive. What kind of human being did that to another person?

“The nurse said she’d call if there was any news,” Jack reminded her.

Gemma still shook her head. “I’m going to need to go into the paper tomorrow. This is big news.”

Jack winced at that, but she recognized that he bit back the retort on his lips. She didn’t know if that was progress or not. Did it mean that he cared about hurting her feelings or was he simply too tired to go into it?

Frankly, she was too tired to dissect it further. Sooner or later, they’d have to tackle it. But not tonight.

Instead, Gemma concentrated on what mattered. “Candy deserves justice. You do it with a badge. I do it with the pen. People will see only that she was a stripper and believe she was asking for it or something. They won’t know how she helped Mrs. Beaumont with groceries or a host of other things that made her a real human being with hopes and dreams.”

“You know, I generally rank reporters only slightly above urologists, but I have to admit that the passion you bring to your job is sexy.” He moved until he was standing right in front of her. She tipped her head back and gazed up at him.

“This is a very bad idea,” she said even as she closed the inches between them.

“Probably,” Jack agreed. His arms came up and pulled her closer. “Do you want me to stop?”

Gemma shook her head. “No. After this evening, I want to be held. I want to have something bright and positive to focus on.” It felt like a ball of pain resided in her stomach and she couldn’t manage to release it.

“Shhh...it’s going to be okay.” Jack brought his lips down on Gemma’s, and she reveled in the connection. He kept the kiss gentle, soft, and undemanding. Gemma slid her hand up his shoulder and around his neck to tangle in the hair at the back.

He tightened his hold on her, and she felt his body reacting to her closeness. Her mouth opened under his and he deepened the kiss, his tongue dueling with hers, the heat beginning to spiral higher and higher.

When she’d realized he was going to kiss her, she’d intended to keep it short and simple. A kiss and a parting, but her body wanted more. Mentally and physically she was tired, and Jack had to be the same, but her body seemed to have found a second wind.

With his lips still on hers, Jack turned Gemma around and backed her slowly to the couch. His mouth left hers and he nibbled from the corner of her mouth to her jaw and followed the line of her jaw to her ear. “God, you smell good.”

Gemma laughed. “I’d say the same, but I think we both really need a shower.”

“Later.”

They were nearly to the couch when a tiny voice called out from the top of the stairs. “Aunt Gemma.”

Like a bucket of cold water thrown on her, Gemma jumped back. “Dana. What are you doing up, sweetie? It’s still dark out.”

Dana rubbed her eyes with her fists. “Monsters in my room. Can I sleep with you?”

“Tell you what, why don’t I come up and chase away all those monsters for you?” she said.

Dana held the banister and in her princess pajamas slowly climbed halfway down the stairs. She raised her finger and pointed at Jack. “Want him to do it. Please.”

Gemma looked back over at Jack to gauge his reaction. “Honestly, you don’t have to do it. It’s probably better if she doesn’t get used to having you around since this is only temporary.”

“I don’t mind doing it.” Jack moved past Gemma and slowly climbed the stairs to squat on the step below where Dana stood. “I’ll get rid of those monsters for you so that you can go back to bed. How does that sound?”

Dana gave a decisive nod with her little chin and grabbed Jack’s hand to pull him up the staircase with her.

Down below, Gemma watched them, various feelings pinging inside her chest. This whole situation was fraught with excessive emotions. It would be so easy to make the wrong decision or build a fantasy on a kind word or a toe-curling kiss.

She didn’t know what to do except to let Jack do what he excelled at—keeping monsters away.

Even so, Jack had to be running on empty. She knew because she was. He didn’t have the option of going home because he was tasked with babysitting her. But guard duties did not include calming the fears of a four-year old.

Yet, watching the man bend down to hold the little girl’s hand caused a lump of feeling to rise up in her throat. Dana had never had a daddy and she’d lost her mommy at a young age. It worried her that Dana had taken to Jack so easily. If she became too attached, it was going to be hard on her to lose another person when he walked away after the case.

And couldn’t the same be said about herself? Gemma followed in their wake, her thoughts on their situation. She and Jack had been thrown together because of a crazy killer who’d taken every opportunity he could to reach out and touch her.

Downstairs, she’d let things heat up and heat up good. If Dana hadn’t shown up when she had, Gemma had no doubts where those kisses would have led. Right over to that couch, or would they even have made it that far?

She’d wanted him.

She still did.

Standing in front of Dana’s bedroom doorway, she watched him search the closet and bend down to check under the bed, telling Dana that no monsters would bother her again. He spoke gently, but firmly, and from Dana’s droopy eyelids, she appeared to trust that he was telling her the truth.

Silently, Gemma slipped into the room. “Go ahead and get some sleep. I’ll watch over her. She should drop off pretty soon.”

“Thanks,” Jack said. His gaze darted one more to Dana, a pensive expression on his face, and then left the room.

Like she expected, within a few minutes, Dana’s soft breaths filled the room. Gemma turned off the bedside lamp, making sure that the nightlight stayed on, and headed for her room next door.

She barely had enough energy to change and drop face first onto her pillow. But, as exhausted as she was, sleep wouldn’t quite come. Candy’s body covered in cuts and blood swam before her eyes, while the taunting texts of her killer played in her head. She wasn’t worthy. He’d used that same expression to talk about Kelly. Worthy of what? Or worthy of whom? What kind of game was he playing?

From there her mind wandered to the anonymous note about Jack and his father. Jack refused to even talk about it. Two of the police officers that had been accused with Jack’s dad were now dead. A third was presumed dead, his body never recovered from the lake. She supposed Jack knew this information, but maybe not. He didn’t seem interested in digging into his father’s scandal.

Except he didn’t have a choice. The note implied Jack’s dad was next.

Could they believe the note? If they did, then Jack was also in the line of fire. And who could the fourth man be?

So many questions remained to be answered. The biggest one as far as Gemma was concerned being who had sent the note. She wondered what that person’s agenda was, because they must have one.

And if all that wasn’t enough, she still had the photos of the lookalike Jack selling drugs. When she’d approached him at O’Malley’s, it was because she’d smelled a story. That story hadn’t disappeared, but it certainly had morphed into something else she couldn’t quite define yet. Two days ago, she’d speculated about a decorated cop falling off the path. It would’ve made a great story. Having spent time with Jack, there was no way she could envision him selling drugs. His moral compass pointed straight, without a crooked line or kink in the arrow.

So, who was the guy in the picture if it wasn’t Jack?

Gemma rolled over on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. Insomnia had been a frequent visitor since her sister’s and mother’s deaths. She didn’t see monsters like her niece Dana. Monsters could be faced. Guilt, though, that was a whole different animal. Guilt ate at you and preyed at the edges of your mind. It lived inside you, so that eyes open or eyes closed, it was there, living and breathing inside.

Deeply tired as she was, Gemma recognized she wouldn’t be getting any sleep. Getting up, she went to her desk by the window and turned on her computer. Jack didn’t want to talk about the note or his doppelganger, which mean that Gemma would have to do the same thing she usually did, and find the truth on her own.

***

Jack walked into the kitchen freshly showered and enjoyed the smell of freshly brewed coffee and scrambled eggs that permeated the air. When he woke up in his own bed, there was no one around to make coffee or breakfast. He could get used to this, which could be dangerous.

Gemma was a case, and when the case ended, he’d be out of her and her family’s lives.

“Help yourself to a cup of coffee.” Sylvie directed from the stove. “I didn’t hear what time you both got in, but I’m assuming it was quite late.”

Jack poured himself a steaming cup of black coffee and inhaled the scent before taking his first sip. That first sip went down smooth and he savored the taste. “Sylvie, you make excellent coffee.”

“Many a soldier has told me that, and flattery will get you everywhere.” She gave him a wink and returned to mixing the eggs on the stove.

Gemma walked in looking rumpled and grumpy. Jack poured a cup of coffee and handed it to her.

He thought she mumbled something before she took a drink of it. Sylvie eyed her sharply as she divided the eggs onto plates.

“You didn’t get any sleep again, did you?”

“I’m fine, Aunt Sylvie. I’ll catch some sleep later.”

Sylvie passed him two plates, which he put on the table. He sat down next to Gemma and scrutinized her features.

“What?” Her eyebrows slashed down and her nose wrinkled at him.

She reminded him of Dana. Only Dana brought out unexpected fatherly feelings. With Gemma, his feelings were complicated and definitely tied up with sex and attraction. Jack dug into his eggs, not about to let them get cold, and decided on a safe response. “Why can’t you sleep?”

Gemma pushed the eggs around her plate, before laying her fork at the side. “It’s complicated.” She smiled at him, but he sensed it was more to appease him than because everything was all sunshine. “Anyway, I don’t need a lot of sleep. I get by.”

“Why don’t you stay home? I’ll get a cop car to sit outside and you can catch up on your sleep.” Jack picked up a piece of bacon and popped it into his mouth. “Sylvie, you open a diner and I’ll be your first and most faithful customer.”

“Ha! That’s what they all say.” Sylvie stood with her back against the counter, her own cup of coffee in her hand. “I’ll have you know that I’ve been propositioned by the best of them. In fact, the last one was a two-star general. You’ve got your work cut out for you, young man, if you want to compete with top military brass.”

Jack chuckled. “I stand warned.”

Gemma wrapped her hands around her mug. “And Aunt Sylvie, he’s right. You are an awesome cook.” She leaned back in her chair, drinking slowly from her cup.

“You going to eat those eggs?” Jack hated to see delicious food go to waste and he had the perfect spot for them in his stomach.

“Help yourself.”

Sylvie made a tsking sound. “Living on black coffee is going to give you an ulcer.”

Gemma smiled suddenly and blew a kiss to her aunt. That small gesture made him want to reach out and plant his own kiss on those lips.

Unsettled by his reaction, he focused on his plate. He needed to stop thinking about Gemma and her family as if they were a part of his own. She was a witness and they would go their own ways once they caught the killer. Even worse, she was a reporter. He couldn’t forget that.

Jack finished up and picked up his plate, taking it to the sink.

“You okay? You got quiet all of a sudden,” Gemma said.

Of course, she would notice, and that reporter brain of hers wouldn’t let it go. He wasn’t about to feed her curiosity. “You ready to leave soon?” He checked his watch. “I want to be at the office by nine.”

Gemma pursed her lips, before nodding. “I can be ready in a jiffy.” Gemma stood and picked up her cup. “Aunt Sylvie, you and Dana good for today?”

“We’ll be fine. No worries. Go ahead and do your job.”

Gemma took her cup and left the kitchen. Jack thanked Sylvie and returned to the living room where he tidied up the bedding and waited for Gemma. Figuring she’d need more time than she’d implied, Jack pulled out his phone to check his messages. Most could wait until he got into the office. A couple he sent quick replies.

Gemma still hadn’t come down, so he decided to try to contact his folks. This early they shouldn’t be out. He tapped his dad’s name and waited for the phone to dial the number. While he waited for the line to connect and the phone to ring, he kept his eyes on the stairs. The phone rang and rang and rang. He tried to bury the unease he felt as Gemma tripped lightly down the stairs, appearing much fresher than she had shortly before.

His call finally went to voicemail and he left a short message. “Dad. It’s Jack. Call me.” He frowned at the phone, debating whether to try again.

“Problems?”

Jack shook his head. “I don’t know. Give me a minute, would you?” This time he called his mom’s cell. It also went to voice mail. His mom had probably left it in her bag. It was coincidence that neither had heard their phones. Telling himself it didn’t mean anything, he tried the landline at the condo, but it too went to the answering machine.

They had a landline in the kitchen and another in the bedroom. The condo was a two-bedroom affair. Even if they were eating out on their small balcony, they should have heard the phone. Maybe they’d gone for an early morning walk.

He wanted it to be as simple as they’d gone out for a walk, but he wasn’t about to wait to find out. The condo belonged to a senior retirement community. Jack switched his screen to the Internet and looked up the management number, tapping that number into this phone.

“Hello? Green Springs Retirement Community, this is Robin speaking.”

“Hello, this is Detective Jack Donahue of the Carville, New York Police Department. My parents retired to a condo in your community. I have been trying to reach them and am unable to get them on their cell phones or landline. Can one of your staff members please do a wellness check?”

“One moment, Detective. Can you tell me the names of your parents and the unit number.”

Jack rubbed his temple, trying to dredge up the number of his parent’s unit. “Corner unit of the third building…2H. My dad is Bill Donahue and my mother is Eileen Donahue.”

“Okay. Could you verify the phone number that I have on file for you.”

Jack recited his phone number, barely hanging on to his patience.

Robin’s bright cheerful voice filled the line and Jack grit his teeth. “That matches the one we have, Detective. I’ll have one of our staff go check on your parents and call you right back.”

“Thank you. Please do.”

Jack disconnected and stayed rooted to the spot.

“Jack?” Gemma’s voice recalled him. “I think we should talk.”

“About what?” He stared back down at his phone, willing it to ring. A sense of uneasiness stirred in his gut, though he tried to tamp it down.

Gemma’s hand rested lightly on his arm. “There’s something you need to know. It’s about that anonymous note I got.”

His mouth pulled downward. “That note was someone’s stupid idea of a prank.” Even as he spoke the words, his gut niggled with apprehension. Why weren’t either of his parents picking up?

“Maybe,” Gemma said, lightly squeezing his arm, “but…”

The phone rang and Jack immediately answered, cutting Gemma off in mid-sentence. “Donahue.”

“Um, Detective Donahue? This is Robin from Green Springs Retirement Community.”

“Yes, I know. What’d you find? Are my parents there?”

“I sent Tom, who’s with our Security staff, to do a check. He said that the door was unlocked and when he went in, the place looked like people had left in a hurry.”

“All right, Robin, I want you to listen to me carefully. Make sure you or your staff do not touch anything further. I want you to contact your local police department and tell them what you told me. Give them my name and contact information. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, of course, Detective. Right away.”

“Thank you,” Jack said and disconnected the call. He looked at Gemma. Her crazy talk didn’t quite sound so crazy anymore.