Laurel Drive, Hoover, 11:20 a.m.

Elliott Carson had apparently done well for himself despite the early demise of his Major League career.

“This is some place,” Lori noted as they parked amid the barrage of official vehicles already on the scene.

“I Googled him on the way here,” Jess said as she prepared to climb out of the vehicle. “His work with underprivileged youth has garnered him several big-time sponsors. Doesn’t hurt that his wife is the daughter of a Texas oil baron.”

“That would explain the massive house.” Lori shoved her door closed and met Jess at the hood of her Mustang. “Texans take big to another level.”

“That’s what I hear.” Jess surveyed the home of the latest victim. Funny thing was, why the hell didn’t these rich guys hire bodyguards if they anticipated trouble coming? Where was their sense of self-preservation?

Probably the same place as yours when you play games with Spears and complain because Dan feels the need to protect you.

Point taken.

Now there was something new. She was carrying on a conversation with herself.

Not a good sign. Maybe the department shrink was right when she suggested Jess needed additional counseling.

“News hounds picked up the scent,” Lori noted.

Jess snapped to attention and glanced back at the street. Three reporters hustled from their vehicles.

“Let’s get a move on,” Jess suggested, mostly to herself. She had nothing to give the hungry reporters just now.

A curving stone staircase led from the sidewalk up to the porch. By the time they reached the door, she was cursing the four-inch heels of her new shoes. She’d lost everything when her place was destroyed a week and a half ago. Even her shoes had been beyond salvaging, save one pair that didn’t match her new spiffy suit. She’d just bought these lovely new heels that did. Trouble was they were far from broken in.

“Remind me never to buy a house on a hill,” Jess grumbled as they reached the porch. After donning gloves and shoe covers, she smoothed a hand over her taupe pencil skirt and checked that the matching waist jacket wasn’t riding up. Those reporters would be getting video feed, if not comments, for late-breaking news. It was bad enough to have them dissecting her every investigative step. She had no desire to have her appearance ripped to shreds as well. “Let’s get this done.”

The towering double doors of the front entrance opened and Harper greeted them with, “I put in a call to the coroner’s office to let them know this case might be related to the Baker murder. Dr. Baron is on her way.”

“Thank you, Sergeant.” Jess appreciated his quick thinking and the confidence to take the steps he deemed necessary.

“And your Audi is waiting in your reserved parking space downtown.”

“I have a reserved spot?”

“You do. Right next to Deputy Chief Black.”

“Nice.” Now she had no excuse for not saying good morning to him every single day. Until she started questioning one of his old cases and a new war started. Great.

The Carson home was as ostentatious inside as it was outside. From the marble entry hall floors to the soaring ceilings, the home spoke of style and wealth. Evidence techs moved in and out of rooms like bees searching for pollen.

“Who discovered the body?” Jess settled her attention on Harper.

“The wife. She and their son spent the night at her mother’s home last night. This morning she dropped the boy off at baseball camp and came home to find her husband dead in his study.”

“I thought her parents lived in Texas.” That was what she got for relying on Google.

“They do but the mother keeps a home here so she can spend more time with her only grandchild.”

“Did the wife say why she spent the night at her mother’s last night?” Jess fished for her glasses and tucked them into place.

“She says her husband asked her to. Said it was important.”

“I think I’ve heard that story before.” Scott Baker’s wife had stated that he’d asked her to take their child and go away for a few days. Could be a coincidence, but considering both victims were members of this Five, she was thinking maybe not.

“Prescott and Cook are interviewing the neighbors,” Harper went on. “The wife is in the family room.”

“Detective Wells,” Jess said to Lori, “interview the wife again. See what she knows, if anything, about the Five and any of her husband’s friends. Does she have some idea why her husband wanted her away from home last night?”

Lori gave her a nod and looked to Harper. “Straight ahead,” he explained. “The family room is at the back of the house next to the kitchen.”

Harper led the way to the study. An evidence tech was videoing the room. He lowered his camera and nodded to Jess. “I’m done in here, ma’am. I’ll just get out of your way.”

Jess thanked him and waited until he’d left the room before asking her next question. “No indication our perp was after anything? Money? Jewelry?”

Harper shook his head. “I didn’t find anything disturbed anywhere in the house. I asked the wife if there was a special place they kept valuables or a hidden safe. She showed me the safe in the master bedroom but nothing had been touched. Other than this room, the place is clean.”

“We can certainly rule out robbery.” From what Jess had seen so far, this place would be a burglar’s lucky strike.

“Found these wadded up in his pocket.”

Harper passed her two evidence bags containing pages torn from a notepad not unlike the one Jess carried. The handwritten pages were dated March, twelve years ago. As she read the victim’s name, her breath stalled.

“The author’s reminding him of why he had to die.” That cop instinct had kicked in hard. Had they overlooked something like this yesterday? “When we’re done here, go back to the Baker scene. Check his home.” She passed the evidence to him. “If these murders are connected, there may be more of these.”

Jess turned her attention back to this murder. She surveyed the elegant study. Richly paneled walls lined with bookcases along one side. Another wall was corner to corner windows that filled the room with bright morning sun. Heavy drapes of red velvet were gathered on each end of the ornate rod that extended the full width of the generous room. A third wall featured framed photos and certificates from the victim’s sports career. An organized desk and credenza sat in front of that wall. Directly above the credenza was a mounted rack that sported the slogan Lucky Wood but whatever the rack had held was missing. She frowned, but Harper had said nothing was missing.

“The bat’s on the floor next to the victim.” Harper gestured to where the victim waited for Jess’s attention.

“No sign of a struggle,” she noted, mostly to herself. Carson lay on the floor next to the wall of windows. His lucky bat at his side. Blood had accumulated on the floor beneath his head. The blow or blows had left him with a considerable gash.

“Lividity indicates he’s been lying in that position for several hours. He’s in full-on rigor. Been dead for a while.”

Like Scott Baker, Elliott Carson had been tall and athletic. Seemed strange that someone had overtaken him with his own bat without him putting up a fight.

“No sign of forced entry at any of the exterior doors?” The house surely had several points of entry. She supposed one could have accidentally been left open.

“Every door in the house was locked,” Harper confirmed. “The only one left unlocked when the first officers on the scene arrived was the one coming in from the garage but the wife had unlocked it when she arrived home.”

“Was the security system set?” No need to ask if they had one. They would have one.

“She said he usually sets the alarm before he goes to bed each night. That didn’t happen last night.”

Jess tried to visualize how the attack took place. “He either knew the perp or the perp was here waiting for him.” She turned all the way around, looking for a good hiding place.

“I guess he could have hidden under the desk,” Harper offered.

“Too difficult to get into position without the victim noticing.” Jess looked from the door to the desk. “If the perp had attacked as Carson came into the room, he would have fallen here.” She indicated the floor near the door. “We need to check for blood spatter there. Our killer may have tried to clean it up.”

“What about behind the drapes?” Harper asked as he walked to the window. He shifted the full reams of fabric and hid behind it.

The drapes fell to a generous puddle on the floor. Jess had never understood this particular decorating trend. Just something else to move when you vacuumed. “That could be our hiding place,” she agreed.

“I’ll make sure the glass is checked for prints.”

Jess looked from the curtains to the victim. “Still seems to me that if our guy stepped out from the curtains, bat in hand, that Carson would have turned to him in surprise. Wouldn’t he have fallen more here than there?” She pointed to a spot perpendicular to where he currently lay on his back.

“You think the perp moved him. Positioned him for some reason.”

Jess looked back at the door and then to where the victim lay on the floor, feet aimed at the door. “I think our perp didn’t want it to look as if he’d come up from behind his target. He wanted us to believe he’d come through the door.”

“A coward attacks from behind,” Harper suggested.

Indeed. “Let’s see if we can find any evidence that confirms our theory.”

“You know that murder weapon is worth some bucks.”

The victim’s apparently famous bat lay on the floor next to him, discarded as if it were worthless. “Proves our point that this wasn’t about money.”

“Please,” a female voice said from the door, “everyone knows that ultimately everything is about money.”

Jess turned to the newest arrival. “Good morning, Dr. Baron.”

Sylvia breezed into the room, her form-flattering dress an understated tangerine color that complemented her tanned skin. Speaking of money, Jess would bet a million bucks that beneath those tacky shoe covers the doctor’s toenails matched perfectly manicured fingernails that sported the same sassy color as her dress.

How could any woman who spent most of her time with the dead look so elegant and classy? Did she sit up nights with her own private salon and spa staff? Jess was lucky to get a bath and shave.

Sylvia paused next to Jess and surveyed the victim. “Oh my. I’ll have to tell Daddy to mark him off the guest list for the Labor Day barbecue.”

If Jess didn’t know that Sylvia’s brash brand of humor was more about concealing her own vulnerabilities than anything else, she would be offended for the unfortunate victim. Sylvia immediately set to the task of determining approximate time of death and making a preliminary call on manner of death, not that it wasn’t glaringly obvious. Only this time the killer hadn’t bothered to clean the murder weapon.

Had he gotten careless or changed his strategy?

“I’ll give the lead tech our punch list,” Harper offered.

Jess pulled her attention back to the present. “Thank you, Sergeant.” The sooner the techs could wrap up this scene, the sooner this family could try and resume some sort of normalcy in their lives. That wouldn’t happen before late today. Jess preferred two rounds of evidence collection. Two rounds was SOP when it came to large scenes with multiple victims. For one as clean as this and with only one victim, some might say once was enough. Not in her opinion.

“You and Dan are coming, aren’t you?” Sylvia asked while she made a small incision for inserting a thermometer into the victim’s liver. “To the barbecue?”

“We’ll be there.” Burnett hadn’t actually said yes but he hadn’t said no either.

“Good. My father wants to meet you.” Sylvia sat back on her heels and studied the thermometer. “Your vic died between eight and eleven last night. The manner was certainly homicide.”

Jess made a note of the time frame.

“You might want to brace yourself for trouble,” Sylvia said as she examined the damage to the left side of the victim’s skull.

“Why is that?” Beyond the fact that both her victims were high-profile Birminghamians whose forefathers were the city’s founding fathers, which meant the press was sure to pick the investigation to pieces in the news. What could be worse?

“When I came inside, there was a little storm brewing out there.” She jerked her head toward the wall of windows that looked over the grand driveway and stairs that fronted the home.

“I expected the media to show up in droves.” Jess would have preferred to be on her way before the flock got too thick. Dealing with the press when you had nothing to give them was like getting your picture taken for the DMV. It never turned out well.

Sylvia looked up at her then. “It’s worse than that,” she warned. “Buddy Corlew’s out there demanding to be allowed inside.”

What in the world… The last thing she needed was for him to go running off at the mouth to any reporters.

“Thanks for the warning, Dr. Baron,” Jess said as she headed for the door. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

At the moment she had to put out a potential fire.

“That man is trouble,” Sylvia called after her.

He was trouble all right. But right now he was mostly a pain in the ass.

On the porch she ran into the man in question, escorted by one of the officers charged with guarding the perimeter. At the street, no less than a dozen vans and cars representing various local media outlets lined the perimeter. Powerful lenses swung toward her. Jess could feel them zeroing in.

“Chief, Mr. Corlew says you sent for him.”

She glared at Corlew. And there went that mischievous twinkle in his eyes again. “Thank you, Officer Ashby.” She gifted the young officer with a big smile, then turned to Corlew. The smile disappeared and she gave him what she hoped was a murderous glare. “Follow me, Mr. Corlew.”

Jess marched back inside. As soon as the door closed behind the man, she rounded on him. This was as close to the crime scene as he was getting. “I know we were friends once,” she snapped, “but this—today—is not about friendship. This is about murder. If you have some real input that can help with this investigation, I’m all ears. Otherwise, stay out of my way, Corlew.”

He stared at her for a moment before he spoke. “You finished reaming me a new one?”

Jess was too furious to respond.

“The reason I rushed over here,” he said finally, “is because I just learned a major newsflash I think you’re going to want to be aware of.”

She regained enough of her composure to speak. “This better be good.”

“Remember I told you the dead guy from twelve years ago, Lenny Porter, had a friend who swore Lenny was with the Five when he died? But no one believed him,” Corlew kept going, giving her nothing new, “because he didn’t come forward for nearly a week after his pal took a nosedive off the News building.”

Other than the timing, she’d heard all this. “What took him so long?”

“He was in detox. Seemed he’d been on a trip. Didn’t lend credibility to his story.”

“What makes this newsflash any more relevant than it was an hour or so ago?”

“That’s the part you’re going to want to hear. Todd Penney, the friend, rolled back into town a few days ago. Drives a 1999 dark blue Corolla.”

Now that was worth listening to.

She considered the description of the guy’s car. The one that had followed Jess and Lori from the Baker residence last evening had been a dark blue Corolla. Apparently Mr. Penney still had something to say. Jess glanced toward the room where Elliott Carson’s body lay on the floor with his skull bashed in. Or maybe he’d already said plenty and no one had been paying attention. She wanted to talk to this Mr. Penney and she needed a handwriting sample.

As if he’d read her mind, Harper appeared. The guy had uncanny timing.

“Sergeant, track down Todd Penney for me. Caucasian”—she looked to Corlew for confirmation, and he nodded—“approximately thirty years of age and drives a 1999 Toyota Corolla.” She flipped through her notes and gave Harper the first three numbers she’d gotten from the license plate of the vehicle that followed them last night. She’d intended to have Officer Cook look up Corollas this morning but she’d gotten distracted. “And, Sergeant, since Mr. Corlew has offered his invaluable insights into the case, you can take his official statement.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Harper said with a smile of satisfaction. “It would be my pleasure.”

Lori had said Corlew was a legend in the department. Problem was, it wasn’t in a good way and apparently most of the cops who knew him disliked him.

When Corlew started to argue, Jess cut him off. “If you’d rather wait and go downtown with me to give your statement, that works too.”

“That’s the thanks I get for trying to help.” Corlew executed an about-face and headed for the door.

“Watch him,” Jess murmured to her detective.

Harper smiled. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

Later, when she had the time, Jess needed the whole story on Corlew and his legendary status in the department.

Her cell clanged, pushing her curiosities about Corlew aside.

Gina Coleman calling.

“Great.” The woman didn’t want to wait for a statement. Fact was, Jess still owed her a favor. She might as well make good on that. The sooner the better. “Harris.”

“We need to talk. Now.”

“I don’t have anything I can release just yet,” Jess told her flatly, “but the moment I do, you’ll get it first.” That seemed fair enough.

“I’m not calling for a sound byte,” Coleman said sharply. “I’m calling about my sister. I need your help and you owe me, Harris.”

“Has something happened to your sister?” Jess wasn’t even aware the woman had a sister.

“We can meet at your office in fifteen minutes.”

“Hold up, Coleman. I’m at a crime scene,” Jess informed her. “I can’t just leave.” Jesus Christ! Just because Birmingham’s hotshot reporter had Burnett and the mayor at her beck and call didn’t mean Jess was there, too, even if she did owe her one.

“My sister thinks she knows the killer,” Coleman said. “She says he isn’t finished yet.”

Hold on a minute. “Is Juliette Coleman your sister?”

“She’s one of the Five,” Coleman said. “Juliette is terrified that this guy isn’t going to stop until he gets them all.”

Just went to show that Birmingham wasn’t so big after all. It would have been nice if Coleman had announced this part first. “Keep an eye on your sister while I finish up here. Meet me at my office at one-thirty?”

“We’ll be there.”

Jess ended the call and went in search of Lori. She found her in the kitchen. “I have a meeting in the office at one-thirty. If we’re not finished here, I’ll need you to handle the rest without me.” The words were hardly out of her mouth when she remembered that she didn’t have her car. Damn it!

Sylvia Baron’s husky voice demanding that someone should get out of her way echoed all the way to the kitchen.

Perfect timing. “I can catch a ride with Dr. Baron.”

“Works for me,” Lori said. “Mrs. Carson’s mother is on the way. I’m having her come in through the alley.”

“Good idea. They’ll be taking the body out the front any second.”

“When things are wrapped up here, I can try to round up the others for lunch. Give you some privacy at the office,” Lori offered.

“That would be very helpful.” At some point SPU was going to need different accommodations.

After meeting with Gina Coleman and her sister, Jess needed to visit all remaining members of the Five. If Penney was the killer and he was out for revenge, chances were Gina Coleman’s sister might be right—he wouldn’t stop until he was done.

Two down, three to go.