Текст книги "Dirty Deeds"

Автор книги: Liliana Hart

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Dirty Deeds

New York Times Bestselling Author

Liliana Hart

Copyright © 2015 Liliana Hart

Kobo Edition

All Rights Reserved

Chapter One

I might not be the best expert on the subject, but in my opinion, marriage is pretty awesome.

Jack and I had spent the last three days soaking up the sun on a Caribbean Island the size of a table napkin. The population was small enough that we weren’t tripping over people on the beach, and our cabana was isolated from the main roads and all the other cabanas. Which was probably a good thing since we’d spent ninety percent of our time naked. It turns out married sex isn’t boring. Married sex is very, very good.

“We can put another tally mark on the wall,” I croaked out.

My heart pounded like a drum in my chest and a sheen of perspiration and salt water from the spray of the ocean coated my skin. I was sticky, hot, and probably getting a sunburn in places that were going to be really uncomfortable later on. I didn’t care one bit.

“No,” Jack said. His hand lay limp across my stomach, his tanned skin a blatant contrast to my own. “I don’t have the energy. Your tally mark idea is going to put me into an early grave. I need some rest and some food, woman. We’re on sex hiatus for at least an hour.”

“Pussy,” I said, shaking my head. “I didn’t know marriage was going to make you so whiny.”

His fingers danced along my ribs and I laughed. “I beg your pardon? What did you call me?”

The problem with being married to my childhood friend was that he knew all my weaknesses, including the fact that I was ticklish on just about every space on my body.

“Nothing,” I snorted. “You must have misunderstood.”

We rolled from the large beach towels beneath us and sand went into a bunch of places sand had no business being. Palms swayed lazily overhead and the sky was cerulean and cloudless. Waves crashed to shore a few feet away, the sound hypnotic and soothing. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect day.

“Don’t think you’ll get another round out of me by wrestling and getting me all worked up. I’m on to you, Doctor Graves.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I bit his shoulder, laughing as I felt life return to certain parts of Jack’s body. “I’m just trying to use you as a sun shield. There are parts of my body that should never see the sun.”

“Baby, I hate to break this to you, but I’m not sure that any part of your body has ever seen the sun. I shouldn’t be able to lose you on a white sand beach.”

I laughed and hitched my leg around his hip. “Very funny. Besides, I’ve gotten a little color since we’ve been here.”

“Yes, now you’re white instead of clear.”

“Are you trying to piss me off as a way to get out of sex?”

“Never,” he said, grinning.

Jack was one of those people who was a pleasure to look at. He stood a little over six feet and had the kind of body that showed discipline and training. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. Anywhere. He also had the kind of face that made women stop and stare, dimples that he always used to his advantage, and eyes that turned the color of dark chocolate when he was angry or aroused. He was one of the two at the moment, because they were almost black. Based on the fact that something hard was poking my hip, I was betting on the latter of the two.

His hair was dark and he always kept it buzzed close to the scalp. Mostly because when he let it grown long it had a tendency to curl. There were times when I had trouble focusing if Jack was in the room because I pretty much wanted to jump his bones every time he crossed in my general path. Fortunately, he was always very accommodating.

His body had scars—plenty of them—telling story after story of the life he’d led as a cop. And Jack wasn’t the type of man to sit comfortably behind a desk. He wanted to be in the action—leading the pack and taking the chances. Even now, as Sheriff of King George County, Virginia he made sure he knew what was going on in every department of the sheriff’s office. He wasn’t just a figurehead.

“I mean it,” he whispered, slipping inside of me. “This is the last time.”

“Agreed. I’m already sick of you. Lets get a divorce.” And then my eyes rolled back in my head and I stopped thinking all together.

A half an hour later, Jack was spraying sunscreen across my shoulders and back while I dumped sand out of my bikini top. I managed to put on my bathing suit despite the fact that my legs weren’t quite working, and I tied a bright blue sarong around my waist. My body was satiated and relaxed, and all I wanted was to crawl into one of the hammocks outside of our cabana and sleep. I’d had precious little rest and relaxation over the past several years.

My time as county coroner, as well as the owner of Graves Funeral Home, didn’t always allow me to get a solid eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. Why was it that death always happened in the middle of the night? Fortunately, I was conditioned to function on little sleep and gallons of coffee from my time as an ER doctor. Of course, my ER days were back before my parents had driven their car over a cliff and changed my life forever.

I swayed and steadied myself on Jack’s arm. “I think there was something in the wedding vows that said you have to carry me if I’m unable to walk due to sexual bliss.” Our cabana was barely a speck in the distance, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to make it without falling on my face.

“I’m not sure whose wedding you attended, but I don’t think it was ours.” Jack smacked me on the behind and took my hand as we strolled toward our cabana.

My legs felt like lead, the sun was starting to get to me, and I needed a fruity drink with an umbrella in it in a bad way. I’ve never really been on vacation before, but I’ve discovered I’m pretty good at it. I kept my head down, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, so I didn’t see the man standing on our front porch until we were almost right on top of him.

Chapter Two

Jack always noticed everything—part of the job description—so he nudged me as we got closer. “I told you we’d get caught doing it in that restroom at the restaurant last night,” he hissed. “That woman must’ve really had to go to the bathroom. She tattled on us.”

I looked up and noticed Joe Kingston at our door, his hand up in mid-knock. He was dressed in loose shorts and a Hawaiian shirt with big yellow flowers all over. It bagged over his hip holster, but the outline of his weapon was still visible. He wore a straw hat that was frayed around the edges and flip-flops.

Joe was the island cop, and in the tradition of things, cops had a sixth sense about other cops. So we weren’t on the island a full day before Joe had sought out Jack and made an introduction. And by saying Joe was the island cop, I meant he was the only island cop. I’d never been anywhere with a police force of one before.

Most of his time was spent dealing with petty thefts, domestic violence issues, and drunken tourists. He’d told us the first day there was never any serious crime because the locals knew how important the tourist industry was to the economy.

“I’m not taking the rap for that by myself,” I hissed back. “You could’ve said no.”

“Are you kidding me? You did my favorite thing. I’d have to be an idiot to say no.”

“Your favorite thing? I thought that thing we did this morning was your favorite thing.”

“It’s all starting to blur together. Listen, let me handle this. If Joe’s like any other cop he’ll give me a high-five and then we’ll have a beer.”

“What about me?”

“I’m sure he’ll give you a high-five too if you really want one.”

I elbowed Jack in the ribs, but couldn’t get the silly grin off my face long enough to be serious. But the closer I got to Joe the more I realized that whatever was bothering him was very serious. Jack must gotten the same impression because he let go of my hand and took the porch stairs two at a time.

“Hey, Joe. You okay?” They shook hands, but it was very obvious Joe wasn’t okay.

I hurried up beside Jack, automatically checking Joe’s color and wanting to grab his wrist and check his pulse. His skin wasn’t a good hue and he was clammy with sweat. And his eyes were dilated to the point they looked more demon than human.

“Why don’t you sit down,” I said. I didn’t give him a choice. I grabbed him, discretely checking his racing pulse, and led him to one of the white rocking chairs. “Jack, maybe some water?”

“No, no,” Joe said, pulling from my grasp. “There is no time. I came right away. You must both come with me.”

Jack’s eyebrows rose, but there was no other expression on his face. Jack was a hell of a poker player, and unless you knew him well it was impossible to know what he was thinking half the time. I knew him better than anyone, and I still hardly knew what he was thinking. But part of Jack’s job as a sheriff was to be a politician. He knew how to win people over, calm them down, and be compassionate when the time called for it. It’s what had made him such a great street cop and commander too. And it’s what made him an exceptional sheriff.

“The body is still very fresh. Still warm.” He nudged us both in the back to get us going and he headed back down the stairs.

“Wait a second,” I said. Things were starting to come into focus, but I needed a little more clarity just to be sure. “You’ve got a body you need us to look at? A dead body?”

“Yes, yes. Very dead. Very murdered. Things like that don’t happen here. We don’t know what to do. You are experts, so you come do it for us. Yes?”

I looked at Jack in question and I could see the resignation in his sigh. All we’d wanted—needed—was a break from our day-to-day lives and the horrors that often plagued us both.

“We’ll come,” Jack finally said. “Let us change clothes and you can take us to the scene.”

There was no escape from the dead.

Chapter Three

The island was only a couple of miles in either direction, and Joe maneuvered the bright yellow Jeep off the main road and down one of the cobbled narrow side streets. We sped between brightly colored houses, each connected to the next, and laundry lines hung from the balconies of the apartments overhead.

The streets were full of bike traffic and people going back and forth from the outdoor market, carrying baskets of fruit and other goods, but Joe just beeped the horn and kept speeding through the melee.

I hung onto the roll bar with one hand and Jack’s thigh with the other as we bumped along and watched people get out of our way at the last possible second. The engine was loud, so Joe had to yell to be heard.

“It’s been about an hour since it was reported,” he said. “The phone lines have been down on the island today and cell service isn’t the most reliable, so they had to come get me and bring me to the scene. And then I had to find you.”

I closed my eyes as our wheels drove up on the sidewalk and scattered a bunch of chickens. I wasn’t an overly religious person, but I started saying every prayer I could think of. The women in my family had a tendency to die young and tragically, and I was hoping to break that streak, though it didn’t feel like I was going to be successful at it.

“Father Fernando found the body in the church courtyard between masses,” Joe continued. “I’ve never been a mainland cop, but I know enough to know the scene is not how you would like it. Mass is well attended and you can imagine everyone’s curiosity. And Father Fernando isn’t one to think that outside help is needed in matters like these, so he wasn’t exactly worried about preserving the scene.”

I winced, knowing we were already playing with a stacked deck. I didn’t have a useable lab or hardly any resources at hand that I’d normally take with me, so a contaminated crime scene and a reluctant priest were the least of our worries.

Jack pushed his sunglasses higher on the bridge of his nose. “No one noticed the body when the earlier Mass let out?”

“It wasn’t there before or directly after the three o’clock service.” Joe maneuvered a sharp turn and barely avoided hitting a flower cart. He beeped the horn and waved and didn’t look back. Apparently everyone was used to Joe’s driving. “The courtyard is located between the clergy house and the church, and parishioners use the front entrance of the church for the five o’clock Mass, so the courtyard area in back is always clear. Father Fernando and Father DeCosta were coming from their quarters to hear confession when they noticed the body. Father Barthe heard the commotion and came out to join them soon after.”

“Is the victim a local or a tourist?”

“A local. Leon Stein.”

I felt Jack relax beside me, and I knew where his sigh of relief was coming from. It was going to be a lot easier to deal with a local than a foreign tourist getting murdered while on vacation. There’d be less hoops to jump through for us if we were going to help and less, if any, media attention.

“No offense, but Stein doesn’t exactly sound local,” I said.

Joe smiled, his teeth starkly white against his dark skin. “Leon has been here more than seventy years, shortly after the Second World War. He says he came to the island for vacation and decided to stay the minute he laid eyes on a girl named Maria. She was fifteen at the time and they were married within a few weeks. It’s hard to find someone on this island not related to Leon and Maria. He would’ve celebrated his hundredth birthday next week. We were planning a big celebration.”

“Are you related to them?” Jack asked Joe.

Joe smiled again. “Oh, somewhere down the line a few times removed. It’s the way of things here. Maria will have heard the news by now. I need to go by and see her.”

“We’ll need to talk to her,” Jack said.

Joe sighed and his smile disappeared. “I know you will. She’s frail and not in the best of health. Be easy on her.”

“We can step back at any time. This isn’t exactly how we planned to spend our honeymoon.”

“No, this is the right thing to do. Besides, you’ve got the look of someone who could use a break from their honeymoon, if you know what I mean.” Joe covered his smile with a cough and I shot Jack a narrow-eyed stare.

“Whimp,” I whispered.

He turned his head so his lips touched my ear. “Baby, all those SWAT ops in my past had nothing on you.”

“You’re a sweet talker, Jack Lawson. I’ll give you a reprieve so we can solve this case. But after that you’d best watch out.”

“I have excellent hearing, so no need to whisper,” Joe said. “And you are a lucky man, Sheriff. Maybe she has a sister she could send my way. It would be nice to have some fresh blood on the island. You’d think in a place where women outnumber men two to one it would be easy to find a wife.”

“Wow, you’d think,” I said, surprised by the ratio.

“Jaye is an only child, thank God,” Jack said. “I’m not sure she’s the kind of fresh blood this island could handle. She’s a little rebellious.”

Joe tipped his sunglasses down to the tip of his nose and looked at me. “I could’ve guessed that. She’s got that look about her. The church teaches that a wife should be obedient.”

Jack looked at me with his brows raised and his eyes full of the devil. “Yeah,” he said. “Obedient.”

“I can see why he’s having trouble finding a wife despite the ratio,” I whispered out the side of my mouth. “Besides, there are times I like being obedient.” I waggled my eyebrows and smirked. “Can we do that thing with the zip ties again?”

“Ssh, woman. Stop giving away all my secrets.”

I grinned, despite the circumstance that had put me in a Jeep bouncing along rutted roads instead of bouncing on a mattress. A few days of marriage to Jack had done more for my soul and sanity than the lifetime I’d spent praying for relief from the constant shit storm that plagued anyone with the last name Graves.

“You don’t happen to have a spare medical bag or gloves with you,” I asked Joe.

“Medical bag, no. Doctor Hizumi is the only physician on the island and he’s on a house call. An American tourist spent too much time in the sun this morning.

“But I brought gloves, and I’ve got a few supplies in a box in the back. I wasn’t sure what might be needed. I sent my nephews to go and clear space for you to work at the police station. It’s not a large building, so unfortunately our makeshift morgue will be in the jail cell. And of course, Jack can use my desk for whatever he needs.”

I pursed my lips together to keep from saying anything I’d regret. I was on my honeymoon and I’d get to spend the foreseeable future in a jail cell with a dead body and no air conditioning. Jack gave me a comforting squeeze on the shoulder and I exhaled, releasing the tension from my body.

St. Miguel’s was small, but beautiful, and sat on a higher elevation looking out over the water. The architecture was decidedly Spanish—pale yellow stucco and ornately carved wooden doors. It was obviously well tended to, the grounds neatly mowed and the wild growth of tropical flowers in the flowerbeds maintained. To the left was a small cemetery, the headstones and crosses lined up like soldiers.

The stained glass windows gleamed in the late afternoon sunlight and a small fountain with a statue of the Virgin Mary sat between two of the cathedral style windows. A crowd had gathered in front of the church and they gossiped in hushed whispers.

Joe parked the Jeep in front of the church, and I noticed most people made the sign of the cross as they saw who was arriving. Joe received looks of relief from the crowd. The looks they gave me and Jack ranged from confusion to hostility. From what I’d observed during my three days on the island, it was a close-knit, hard working community. There wasn’t wealth here. Just what the tourists brought in. But the raw, natural beauty of the island was its own wealth with white sand beaches and greenish-blue water that was so clear you could see straight to the bottom of the ocean before it got too deep.

I gave Jack a quick glance, but he was absorbed in the surroundings. I’d learned the thing about being involved with a cop was that he was always a cop. Those instincts didn’t take a vacation. His focus was on the crowd, cataloguing anyone who might look suspicious or who didn’t fit. Just because the country was different didn’t mean a killer’s mentality would be. They liked to watch for the most part. To see the reactions of police and witnesses alike.

I let Jack do his thing and hopped out of the Jeep, grateful to have my feet on solid ground. People immediately swarmed Joe, rapidly firing questions. The death of Leon Stein was obviously catastrophic to the community. He was loved and had built his legacy here. Had a wife and children here. But what made someone kill a man like Leon Stein just shy of his hundredth birthday? That’s what we had to find out.

I felt underdressed in the navy shorts and white linen top I’d put on, but I hadn’t exactly packed with a crime scene in mind. I figured I could bleach the shirt if I got blood on it and the shorts were dark enough to hide any stains. I’d learned to be practical when it came to dressing in my line of work. I hardly ever wore makeup and I’d been living in sunscreen and moisturizer for the past several days. My toes still had polish on them from the wedding and my hair had been trimmed and given some kind of rinse so the tropical humidity didn’t make it frizz. My hair had never frizzed. It was straight and black and swung just at my chin. But they assured me at the salon it was better to be safe than sorry. I’d pulled it back in a stubby ponytail at the back of my neck so it wasn’t hanging in my face.

I was a pretty low-maintenance kind of woman. I’d spent too long in the medical field, where being a woman was still considered inferior. We’d had to work harder and be smarter to make it through residency. So I’d learned to ignore the things that made a woman feel more feminine. It was a shame really. I’d always thought a third year female student should be able to do rounds without being told she was sleeping her way to the top because she was wearing mascara or lipstick.

Jack was dressed in a pair of loose khaki cargo shorts and a black Tommy Bahama shirt. The relaxed clothing didn’t take away from his physical appearance. He was a true Alpha male in every sense of the word. When he went somewhere people paid attention. They watched and listened and stayed back. Because despite the vacation clothes, Jack looked dangerous.

“Please, please,” Joe said, holding up his hands and quieting the crowd. “I know you are upset, and we will have answers soon. These are my police friends from America, so they are very experienced with violent death and horrible crimes.”

I raised my eyebrows and looked at Jack. It was kind of sad to say we were experienced with horrible crimes and violence, but we were probably the best chance this community had of finding out what had happened to Leon Stein.

Joe broke away from the crowd and came to the back of the Jeep where we waited. He dug out latex gloves from a cardboard box and handed them over.

“What should we do now?” he asked.

Jack blew into his glove and pulled it on easily. And then he did the same with the other. “You know everyone here?”

“Yes, everyone,” Joe answered.

“That’s good. Start talking to them one-on-one. See if anyone saw or heard anything. Construct a timeline of events. Who saw him enter and exit the church. Where he sat. Who he talked to. Things like that.”

“I see,” he nodded. “Like TV. That’s a good idea.”

“Yep, just like TV,” Jack said deadpan. “See if anyone noticed what cars were parked nearby. And watch their body language. If anyone seems nervous or their behavior is off make a note of it and we’ll follow up. Doctor Graves will be able to determine if Leon was killed here at the church or his body was moved there. Whatever the case, someone had to have seen something. And someone killed him.”

“All of these people are good people,” Joe said, shaking his head. “They would never do anything like this. We are very peaceful, and Leon was one of our own. He was a good man. It had to be a tourist.” A ferocity came into Joe’s dark eyes, and I could tell he was offended at Jack’s suggestion. He was loyal to his community, and that kind of loyalty would never find a killer.

The unfortunate truth about our line of work was that everyone was a liar until proven they were telling the truth.

“I’m not saying it wasn’t a tourist,” Jack said, speaking softly. Jack had a way about him. He was one of those men who never had to raise his voice. When he spoke people listened. He had a natural authority and ability to lead. “And it’s probably a good idea to suspend boat and ferry services off the island for the time being. You can think of an excuse to shut them down. All I’m asking is that you collect information and listen and observe. You’re a cop. You might not be an experienced one, but your gut will tell you when you’re on the right track. Sometimes people don’t realize they know something until you ask the right question. They know you and trust you. The biggest majority of police work is documenting the facts. That’s all you need to do.”

Some of the starch went out of Joe’s posture and he nodded in agreement. “I can do that. Do you want me to show you the body?”

I dug through the box and shoved some plastic baggies in the back pocket of my shorts, along with a little black leather pouch that had tweezers and other small motor skill tools in it to collect evidence. I could take photos from my phone. That was pretty much the extent of our equipment. I didn’t even want to think about how we were going to transport the body.

“Nah, we’re comfortable finding our way around,” Jack said. “But let me know how involved you want us to be once we start. We don’t want to step on any toes. You’re welcome to take over at any time.”

“No, this is best,” Joe said. “Leon deserves someone with experience. And I don’t have that. Thank God.”

Jack nodded and put his hand on the small of my back, and we walked around the side of the church and away from the crowd.