Dunbrooke Drive, Thursday, August 12, 7:05 a.m.
You got everything?”
Jess saddled the strap of her bag on her shoulder. “I do.” She tugged at her suit jacket. She really liked the rich red color but the lining was itchy. If she didn’t like the skirt so much, she’d take it to that fancy thrift store Dan’s friends used and donate it.
Men were the lucky ones. She admired the one fiddling with the coffeemaker. A few classic suits and shirts and the only real accessory they had to worry about were ties. Shoes were black or brown and comfortable. Lucky dogs.
“You want to take a coffee with you?”
“No thanks. I’m ready.” This was the part she hated about sleepovers. Her car was at her place. She was basically at his mercy. She liked to get up, get dressed, and get to work. She dragged her coffee with her and didn’t care if she ate or not.
Dan, on the other hand, looked over the morning paper with his coffee. Nuked a prepackaged breakfast in the microwave.
She’d been counting off the minutes for half an hour.
“What time is your appointment with the security company?”
“Noon.” Inside, she winced at the idea that she was going to have to turn her place into Fort Knox to satisfy Dan’s demands.
“Good.” He grabbed his briefcase and nifty to-go cup and followed her to the door.
Thank God.
While he set the security system and locked up, she climbed into his fancy Mercedes SUV. It was a nice vehicle, no question. But it reminded her of that big, fat dividing line between Dan’s family and hers. His family were Brookies, Mountain Brook residents, the high and the mighty. And she was from way, way across town, the low and the invisible.
He settled into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “You sure Mrs. Wallace and her friends are expecting us this early?”
“They’re expecting us.” Her day was already jam-packed. Meeting with the widows was a courtesy to Frances. A phone call from one of her detectives could have sufficed but she owed the lady more than that. The least she could do was follow up personally.
Frances probably had a lot more to do with Jess and Dan becoming a couple back in high school than she realized. She helped Jess see that the massive chip she carried around on her shoulder was not going to get her what she wanted out of life.
Admittedly, she was still a work in progress, but Frances had set her on the right track.
“I slept better knowing you were right down the hall.” Dan backed out of the driveway.
Jess studied his profile. He really worried about her. She’d realized that last night. He worried the way she and Lily worried about each other. In a way, Dan was closer to real family to her than any other man she’d had in her life—not that she’d had that many. Her one marriage to Wesley had ended almost before it started. More her doing than his. She’d pushed him away even before he’d moved across the country.
The kind of connection she and Dan shared also carried far more potential for intense pain. She knew that particular pain too well.
She made an agreeable sound in answer to his statement; then she turned her attention to the passing landscape. Everyone she’d ever had that deep bond with had left her, starting with her parents when they’d gotten themselves killed in that car accident. Then Dan after college.
Maybe she’d been pushing people away ever since. Even Lil. It was easier to be busy up in Virginia than to come home for frequent visits and get too attached. People left… people died.
Jess closed her eyes and wished with all her heart that Lil would be okay. Jess had wasted a lot of time… she didn’t want to lose her sister now.
She glanced at the man next to her.
Or him.
That confession, even if only to herself, made her throat ache and her chest tighten.
“So we’re in the clear?” Lucille, the eldest of the widows, asked.
“Yes,” Jess repeated. “New evidence has come to light that suggests Baker’s murder was not related to the Village or anyone here.”
One of the twins, Molly, harrumphed. “He’s dead and we’re no better off than we were before. Clemmons isn’t trying to stop the construction. He’s seeing dollar signs.”
The widows all started talking at once, which was the norm for this group.
Frances held up her hands. “We will not give up, ladies.”
Lucille argued, “We’re wasting—”
“Stow it, Lucille,” Frances warned. To Jess she said, “Can you tell us anything about the case?”
Jess shook her head. “Sorry. I can’t talk about an ongoing investigation.”
“It’s related to that ex-ball player,” Polly said knowingly. “My son is one of his neighbors. He would know.”
“Well.” Jess stood. “We should be going.”
Looking past ready to do just that, Dan stood as well. “Thank you for your cooperation, ladies.”
Frances walked them to the door. “I saw on the news that both victims once belonged to this tight little group called the Five. Has someone targeted them for what happened to that young man all those years ago?”
Jess should have realized that Frances would remember the case; she had still been teaching at the time. “We’re working every angle, including that one.”
She grabbed Jess’s hand and tugged her closer. “You two still look good together.”
Jess glanced toward the corridor outside the door to make sure Dan was out of earshot. “Frances, he’s my boss now. We’re friends.”
Her too-perceptive eyes twinkled. “Call it what you will, but I know what I see.”
Jess must have looked confused because she added, “That young man looks at you the way my Orson always looked at me.” She smiled, her eyes watery now. “Until the day he died.”
Jess gave her dear friend another hug and hurried to catch up with Dan.
She felt a little depressed at what Frances had said, though she was sure that wasn’t her old friend’s intent. Frances and Orson had lived the kind of relationship love stories were written about. Lily and Blake were like that. They were so much a part of each other it was impossible to imagine one without the other. As much as Jess loved her independence, she really didn’t want to grow old alone. She and Dan had promised each other that if they were still single when they hit sixty, they would get married just to prevent being alone.
But that wasn’t the same.
Could Frances be right? Jess stole a glance at Dan. Could he possibly love her that way?
Her heart pounded at the thought of relying on anyone so completely.
Give her a cold-blooded killer to face down any day over figuring out affairs of the heart.
How could she trust anyone else to make the right decisions if she couldn’t even make them herself?
It was so much easier to stick with what she knew.
“We need to pick up my car,” she reminded him.
“As long as you don’t go taking off on your own,” he reminded her.
“You’re the boss.”
He sent her a look.
“Okay, okay. I will take every precaution.”
He reached across the console and squeezed her hand. “I know it cramps your style, Jess, but until we know what’s going on with the Allen case and have a better handle on what Spears is up to, we need to be vigilant.”
Jess smiled at him but inside she wondered if she’d ever be free of Spears again.
She didn’t know why she bothered. She knew the answer.
Not until he was dead.
Birmingham Police Department, 11:02 a.m.
Jess waited until the three remaining members of the Five were seated around the conference table. “First, I appreciate your coming.” She looked from one to the other. “I know your schedules are busy but I believe this is a serious threat. Two of your friends have been murdered already.”
“We’re very much aware of that fact, Chief Harris,” Kevin O’Reilly said pointedly. “What we don’t know is what you intend to do about keeping the rest of us alive.”
Jess just didn’t see how a woman as seemingly nice as Juliette Coleman could have ever been friends with these two overbearing, self-serving men.
Then again, in some social circles it was more about pedigrees than personalities. Both men were attractive and well dressed. Aaron Taylor was perfectly manicured from his eyebrows to his nails. Not a hair out of place. O’Reilly, on the other hand, was more what she would call money groomed. He had the bucks for the right clothes and the better hair stylist but beneath what money could buy he was rough around the edges. He’d missed a tiny spot when shaving. His striped shirt, though undeniably a designer label, didn’t quite match the suit. Then there was Juliette. Like her sister, she had long dark hair and gray eyes. Either could be a supermodel or a big-screen actress. Both had that sexy, fresh-faced beauty that called out to a camera and the fashion sense and dollars to back it up.
That was something else Jess had noticed about the Five. They were all attractive and fairly fashionable while Lenny Porter and his friend Todd Penney were your typical nerds with big glasses and an unkempt appearance. Lenny and Todd had been perfect targets for the likes of these snobs. As hard as Jess tried not to hold what she’d read in those journal pages against the group, it was difficult.
And now, a dozen years later, they were looking at a double homicide. Sometimes the bullied or the downtrodden came back to get even.
“I can only help you, Mr. O’Reilly, if you cooperate,” Jess explained with all the patience she intended to bother with. “We’re doing everything possible to find the person or persons responsible for Scott Baker’s and Elliott Carson’s murders but we need evidence and motive. These murders appear to have been well planned and equally well executed.”
“What you’re saying is that you’re stumped,” O’Reilly accused. “You have no idea who killed our friends even though we’ve given you a suspect and his address as well as his motive.”
“You know that’s not how this works,” Taylor argued. “Just because we believe Todd Penney is picking us off one by one doesn’t mean the police can just arrest him. They need proof. That attitude is not going to help us,” he warned his friend.
The two glared at each other for several seconds. Maybe not such good friends after all.
“Well said, Mr. Taylor,” Jess noted when no one else seemed inclined to break the silence. “We have no proof that Mr. Penney has done anything wrong.” Other than the journal entries, which may or may not have been written by him, and the fact that his Corolla had followed Jess around that one evening, but the latter wasn’t really a crime. He’d have to do it a lot more and venture considerably closer for her to accuse him of stalking. Honestly, she had no idea why the man felt the need to follow her—if Penney had even been behind the wheel.
At this time, the one known aspect of his behavior that cast undeniable doubt on Penney was his refusal to come in to make a statement. He knew the police were looking for him. Only a man with something to hide refused to cooperate when the authorities came knocking.
“What is it you expect us to do?” O’Reilly demanded.
“The best option would be to relocate to some place safe away from your home and usual routine. If that isn’t a viable possibility the department will provide a surveillance detail for each of you.” With budgets tight all over, those kinds of resources were getting tougher and tougher to come by but Jess didn’t see any way around it in this instance. If the mayor complained, she would remind him that she was only taking care of his friends.
“I’m staying with my sister,” Juliette said. “Do you think I still need a surveillance detail, Chief Harris?”
Jess opted not to say that her big sister was just a reporter, not a superhero. “I would strongly recommend the detail.”
“I’m supposed to just uproot my family because the cops can’t do their job?” O’Reilly roared. “No way. And I won’t be made to feel like a prisoner in my own home.”
The three of them started talking at once—arguing mostly.
You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make it drink. Jess stood, drawing their attention back to her, which ironically shut them up. “I would advise you to accept my offer or to take the proper precautions as I’ve outlined. Avoid your routine and keep your eyes and ears open. Call nine-one-one immediately if you feel you’re in danger. Do not hesitate. No one is going to complain about a false alarm under the circumstances. If you change your mind about a surveillance detail,” she said to O’Reilly and Taylor, “don’t hesitate to call.”
O’Reilly was the first out the door. No thank you, no nothing.
“I’m sorry for his behavior,” Juliette offered. “He’s been a wreck since Scott told us Todd was back in Birmingham.”
“Stop covering for him,” Taylor insisted. “He’s always been a jerk. If his father wasn’t who he is, Kev wouldn’t have a friend on this planet.” He turned to Jess. “Thank you for the offer, Chief Harris. My wife and I will go to a friend’s lake house. I’m due a vacation anyway.” He hugged Juliette. “Stay safe, Jules.”
When Taylor was gone, Juliette lingered. “Chief Harris, do you think you can find Todd before he tries to kill another one of us?”
“We’re doing all we can,” Jess assured her. Rather than leave it at that, she pushed for more reaction from the woman. “I’m just having some trouble reconciling the idea that a man who had achieved huge success on the West Coast would return here to have revenge for the death of his friend twelve years later.”
Todd Penney’s high school records showed he’d been in counseling for depression and anxiety back then. Harper had found nothing else since. Not even a traffic violation. The night Lenny Porter died, Penney disappeared. Days later he was discovered in the psych ward after a near drug overdose. Beyond his insistence that his friend had been murdered—a statement he later recanted—there was not a speck on his record. His employer gave him a stellar recommendation when Jess called just before this meeting. But then a lack of evidence didn’t mean the man wasn’t guilty. It just meant they hadn’t found his secrets yet.
“It has to be him,” Juliette insisted. “There’s just no other explanation.” She frowned, openly searching Jess’s face. “Are you saying he doesn’t meet the criteria for cold-blooded murder?”
“All of us are capable of evil,” Jess allowed. “It’s choosing not to commit an act of evil that separates us from the bad guys. Sometimes a good person can make a mistake and cross the line. Evidence shows that once that line is crossed, it’s easier the next time. Even easier the time after that. So, yes, it’s possible. Whether it’s probable is yet to be seen.”
Juliette looked away. She covered her mouth as if she had more to say or ask but couldn’t bear to do so.
“If there’s something else you need to tell me, this would be the time. I can’t help you and your friends unless I have as many of the facts as possible.”
Juliette seemed to compose herself and readied to go. “It’s nothing. Just something Scott said a long time ago.”
“A long time ago meaning shortly after Porter’s death or sometime since?”
“It was a few months later. He said that sometimes the universe tests you and maybe we failed the test that night. I think maybe he was right. Maybe we failed the test and this is our fate. Maybe this has nothing to do with Todd. It could just be fate catching up with us.”
The lady had watched way too many B-rated movies. “I don’t deal in fate, Juliette. But I do deal in facts. And there are still a lot of those missing in this case. Until I know all the facts, none of you are safe. I wish you’d change your mind about staying some place the killer wouldn’t know to look for you.”
Juliette thanked her and went on her way. Jess had a feeling one or all of the dwindling group knew something—possibly earth-shattering—about the night Lenny Porter died, but none wanted to share with her.
She hoped they wouldn’t wait until it was too late to make a difference.
Speaking of late, it was almost noon. Jess was supposed to meet the security system technician at her place at two. If she didn’t do something drastic, Dan would never allow her to go home again.
Don’t kid yourself, Jess.
Spears had scared the hell out of her last night. She’d been more than ready to come clean with Dan and to get out of that apartment. She shuddered at the memory of opening that takeout box and finding a clump of worms. The evidence tech had found no prints, no nothing other than worm excrement. Not that she’d expected anything to be found. Spears was way too smart for that. Nothing would be found unless he wanted it found.
The new dead bolts she’d had installed failed to deliver the security she’d hoped for. In truth, she wasn’t naïve. A top-notch thief could open most any kind of lock and then relock it when he was done.
The bottom line was she just hadn’t expected Spears to make a move like that… this soon. She had baited him for weeks now. Hoped he would make a move. Show up back in Birmingham so she’d have a second chance to do what she’d failed to do twice already.
And yet she hadn’t been prepared. Not by a long shot. She’d turned tail and run like a scared little girl. All the way to Burnett’s place.
Spears was getting bored. He’d said so. Regret sank like a rock inside her. Her puny efforts to keep him entertained had been a lost cause.
When the craving started, a serial killer like Spears was hard pressed to ignore those desires. She feared it wouldn’t be long now until he would start killing again.
Because she had failed to stop him when she had the chance.
Her cell rang and she jumped. “For the love of God.” She had to get a hold of herself. It was just Harper calling. “Harris.”
“Chief, I think you’re going to want to get over to Easy Storage off Lorna Road. Looks like someone’s been planning to take out the Five for a while.”
“On my way, Sergeant.”
Jess tossed her phone into her bag and dug for her keys. “Damn.” Lori and Cook were in the field. Cook was interviewing a distant cousin of Penney’s and an ex-boyfriend of his mother’s. Lori was following up with Scott Baker’s father about the payments to Lenny Porter’s mother. Mayor Pratt had warned that Jess should steer clear of the Baker patriarch. But that didn’t mean Lori couldn’t attempt an interview.
Jess wasn’t about to pull those two off task. Waiting for an escort would be a waste of time and resources. It was no big deal. She was driving straight to the location where Harper waited. She was certainly capable of driving herself across town in broad daylight. Dan needed to be reasonable.
Just in case, she took the stairs. The chances of running into him were far less likely along that route. She smiled for the security guards in the lobby and hurried out of the building. Careful to remain aware of her surroundings, she reached her reserved spot in the parking garage in record time. Minutes later she was in her Audi and on the street. She breathed a huge sigh of relief.
It felt good to have her car back. And her freedom, even if only for a few hours. The need for precautions was important but she liked being in charge of her own movements. She hated having a babysitter. Except for last night. She’d been really glad to have Dan with her after finding the gift Spears had sent her. Not only had he called for an evidence tech, but he’d also called Gant. Saved her the grief Gant would have given her.
Looking at the situation in the light of day, she realized that certainly Spears had hired someone to do the job. As Dan said, the man had endless resources. Well, his resources wouldn’t do him any good when she got her security system installed.
“Dammit!”
She felt around for her phone and put through a call to the tech who was scheduled to show up at her apartment. There was no way to know how long it would take to go through this storage unit but she needed to reschedule to the latest appointment the man had available today. It wouldn’t wait until tomorrow.
She needed her own place back.
Was that idea of staying with Dan really so unappealing? She felt a little hitch in her chest.
Wait. What was she thinking? Of course it was. Their positions allowed no room for flaunting a personal relationship.
That remark Corlew made haunted her again.
Jess had known Dan and his family for better than two decades. Could she be that kind of wife? The one who attended all the right functions on his arm? The one who stood in the background… and applauded his selflessness and success?
Maybe she’d just wait until they were sixty and see what happened.
The twenty minutes she’d needed to reach Harper’s location went more smoothly than she’d expected. No pileups or traffic jams. She eased ahead of a poky minivan. As she passed the vehicle, the carload of children, most young enough that they were strapped into safety seats, tossed toys at each other. No wonder the woman was poking along. Her sanity had likely gone out the window several miles back.
Jess made up her mind then and there. If she ever had children, she would not allow them to behave like untamed little beasts. Her children would show respect and have manners.
Not that she’d given it that much thought. Images like the one she’d just passed stuck in her brain and reminded her whenever she had a brief lapse in reason.
Sixty was looking better and better.
As she slowed for her exit, a dark sedan roared up close behind her.
“Almost missed your turn, did you?” She harrumphed. “Probably texting.” She hated texting. She hated even worse that people did it while driving. “Idiots.”
Jess slowed as she cruised to the bottom of the ramp and made the posted stop before crossing Highway 31 onto Lorna Road. She checked for oncoming traffic, left then right and—
Her Audi bumped forward.
“What the hell?” The car behind her had nudged her bumper. She checked the rearview mirror. “What do you th—”
The driver’s face was obscured by the gun he aimed right at her head.
Jess rammed the accelerator.
Traffic on her left registered.
She cut the wheel. Bounced off the shoulder of the road.
Horns blared as angry drivers who had just missed plowing into her whipped and whizzed by.
Heart thundering, she twisted around. The car was gone. She surveyed the intersection of streets around her… tried to recall the color and model. Dark but definitely not the Corolla. Black or navy? No larger than her own vehicle. What was that emblem on the front…?
Think! An upside-down V? That was it.
Hands shaking, she reached for her cell as she carefully navigated across Highway 31 and onto Lorna Road.
She hit the necessary numbers and waited for dispatch. “This is Deputy Chief Jess Harris.” She recited her badge number. “The male driver of a black or dark blue sedan, possibly an Infiniti, was waving a handgun around at the intersection of Highway 31 and Lorna Road. I didn’t see which way he went. Patrols in the area should be aware.”
Dispatch thanked her and Jess sat for a minute to gather her wits.
Could have been just a crazy waving a gun. It happened. Random shootings were becoming an everyday affair in larger cities across the nation.
Didn’t mean it was Spears.
Or someone Captain Allen had sent to finish the job—if he was even still alive. A shudder quaked through her at the idea that he could be dead because of her.
Her cell vibrated with an incoming text.
She pressed a hand to her throat as she lifted the phone to view the screen.
Bang! Do you like this game so far?
Rather than get angry or more terrified, Jess grew oddly quiet inside. Well, now she knew. Spears wanted to play for real now. No more tap dancing around the concept. He’d sent a friend to start the games.
This was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it?
Forcing her respiration to slow, she carefully chose her words, tapping the letters into the text box, then, holding her breath, she hit SEND.
Afraid to make your own moves, Spears?
Dan wouldn’t be happy about this.
She blinked back the emotions that threatened. “Just do what you came here to do, Jess.” Hands still shaking, she maneuvered back onto the street.
Harper was waiting for her.
Easy Storage, 2134 Lorna Road, 12:45 p.m.
The storage locker was a ten-by-ten. Not that large but covered from floor to ceiling with photos and newspaper clippings. And more importantly, page after page of the journal. Jess skimmed entry after entry that cited more cruel acts committed by the Five against the writer and his friend. The final entry appeared to be from the night before Lenny Porter died. Todd Penney, assuming he was the author, and his friend were excited about graduating and getting out of Birmingham.
“The locker’s rented to a T. Penn,” Harper explained. “He rented it one week ago according to the paperwork.”
“Was there a copy of his photo ID?” These places were supposed to have a photo ID on record.
“Negative. The owner says there was a lot of that going on. That’s why he fired the guy he had running this place. When he got here this morning, he found this unit open. Says he knew trouble when he saw it so he called it in.”
“There’s no security video?” She’d seen the cameras posted around the property.
“He claims the system’s been broken for years.”
Jess didn’t doubt it.
She surveyed the photos and newspapers clippings. Penney or whoever had done this had been keeping up with the Five all these years. In every photo, an X had been swiped over their faces.
“Evidence techs on the way?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Jess studied the collage created apparently in the last week. If Todd Penney had been in California all this time… had his mother collected the newspaper clippings for him?
“Sergeant, let’s see if we can determine how often Mr. Penney has come home for a visit. Did he fly or did he drive as he did this time? How long did he stay? If he hasn’t been back, then who collected these?” Maybe the mother had kept a shrine of sorts. Or maybe… “Also, let’s find out what Lenny Porter’s mother has been up to. Maybe all these clippings and the journal are from a shrine to her son.”
Jess wasn’t sure how far they would get with the last since Mrs. Porter was out of the country.
“I’m on it,” Harper assured her. Even though the evidence techs hadn’t arrived yet, he glanced around as if to ensure they were alone. “May I ask you a question, Chief?”
She reminded herself not to frown. Bad for her complexion. “Absolutely. Ask me anything you’d like.”
“Is it true that Lieutenant Prescott transferred to GTF?”
“That’s right.” Jess shrugged. “I guess she couldn’t get past her feelings that I got the job she felt she deserved.”
“Will we be bringing anyone new onboard soon?”
“I sure hope so, Sergeant. We’re a skeleton crew as it is.”
“Corlew called me this morning.”
Jess was surprised he hadn’t called her. “Did he have something new to share?” She wanted to believe he meant well getting involved with this investigation, but she had far too many reasons to doubt the idea.
“He says Mrs. Porter’s ship is coming back into port on Sunday. He suggested we have someone waiting for her.”
“I have a better idea.” Jess had been thinking she needed to get a firmer grasp on what Corlew was up to. After talking to Dan last night, she’d made up her mind. “When you’re caught up here, track down Corlew. Tell him you need to have a look around his home and office. If he doesn’t want to cooperate, let’s get a search warrant. If he wants to get more involved in this investigation, let’s give him a written invitation.”
Harper grinned. “My pleasure, ma’am.”
Jess’s cell clanged.
Harper’s must have vibrated because he reached for his.
Burnett. He’d already heard.
Harper stepped out of the locker to take his call. Jess bit the bullet and hit ACCEPT.
“Harris.”
“Where the hell are you?”
“I’m on Lorna Road at an Easy Storage with Harper.” She didn’t mention that they were in separate vehicles.
“What happened with the Infiniti and the driver with a weapon?”
“He nudged my car and when I looked in the rearview mirror, there was a gun pointed at me. I didn’t see his face.” And unless Todd Penney had traded way up, it wasn’t him. Not that she thought for a second the incident had anything to do with her ongoing case.
“Do not leave your location until I get there. That’s an order.”
Jess hit END CALL. “Great.”
“That was Officer Cook,” Harper announced as he stepped back into the unit. “He just got back to the office. The hospital called.”
Fear closed Jess’s throat. She prayed Lily was okay.
“Your friend Frances Wallace is in the ER with chest pains.”
Jess had to get to her. “You know what to do here, Sergeant.”
“I’ve got it under control, Chief.”
Jess hesitated at the door. “When Burnett gets here, tell him I’ll call him as soon as I know anything on Frances.”
Dan shouldn’t be surprised when he arrived to find her gone. If he didn’t know by now she wasn’t very good with orders, then he hadn’t been paying attention.
She never had been good with authority. Otherwise she wouldn’t have been voted most likely to rebel her senior year.
Come to think of it, Corlew had gotten that same vote.
Apparently neither one of them had changed much.