Текст книги "I'll Never Let You Go"

Автор книги: Mary Burton

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

He was a man who liked to win. And she was a piece on the chessboard. Stupid to get attached.

Inside the clinic, a phone rang and a dog barked, but she stayed close to the door until she heard what she thought was the crunch of his footsteps against the gravel. Her breath burning in her chest, she waited longer and then, finally, when she heard the engine, exhaled slowly and carefully.

She wanted Deidre’s killer to be found. She wanted the questions about Philip silenced and, God help her, she’d wanted a relationship with Alex.

Life had taught her that wanting didn’t always coincide with receiving.

Chapter Sixteen

Friday, January 20, 4 P.M.

Disappointed with himself, Alex closed the car door and jammed his keys into the ignition. That wasn’t the way he’d envisioned this conversation with Leah. He’d known his theories would upset her, but he’d hoped they’d find a way to work together. And he found the pain etched in her features troubling.

Damn. He started the car. He hadn’t spun this damn web of lies. That had been Deidre and, perhaps, Philip’s doing. His job was to untangle it all.

Alex gripped the wheel. If his theories were correct, he needed to stay on point to protect Leah. Philip Latimer had attacked her, and if he were alive, he would do so again, of that Alex was certain.

God knows, Leah had no reason to trust him, but he wanted her trust. He was on her side. And when he picked a side, like it or not, he was all in.

Leah didn’t realize that. She considered talk cheap. Words carried little weight with her. One way or another, he would show her that he was on her side.

He drove to the Nashville Police Department to meet with Georgia and Deke. The three were to discuss the findings from Deidre’s crime scene.

He found Georgia in her lab, her red hair twisted into a topknot as she leaned over a black cotton shirt laid out on a light table. She peered through a magnifying lens suspended over the table with an adjustable arm. With a pair of tweezers, she plucked a hair sample from the shirt’s collar and carefully placed it in an evidence bag.

“Is this a bad time?” Alex asked.

Georgia glanced up and smiled. “No. Your timing is perfect, as always. I was just wrapping up with this piece.” She carefully refolded the shirt and placed it back in a large evidence bag.

“What’s that from?”

“A homicide on the East Side. Looks like a drug buy gone bad. This shirt is from the shooter.”

When it came to everyday life, his sister could be scattered, but when it came to work, her focus was laser sharp. “Got time to talk about Deidre’s crime scene?”

She pulled off rubber gloves. “I do. We worked that crime scene for two full days, dusting and collecting in the kitchen as well as the entire house.”

“So give me what you have.” He hitched his hip on the corner of a metal desk.

“As the blood splatter suggested, it all went down in the kitchen.” She reviewed the details of the killing.

“So this guy must have been covered in blood.”

“Yes. There were bloody footsteps that led to the back door and down the three back porch stairs, but they ended at the grass. Like I said at the crime scene, I’m guessing he was wearing some kind of protective gear.”

“This wasn’t a random attack.”

“Not in my professional opinion. No other signs of blood or disturbance anywhere else in the area. Though I did find traces of hair on her body, which I’ve sent off for DNA testing. I can’t imagine our killer would go to so much trouble to hide trace evidence and then drop hair, but you never know. I also found semen on her bedsheets that were less than twenty-four hours old. Again, testing for DNA.”

“The medical examiner’s final report said she had consensual sex within twenty-four hours of dying.”

“Fits.”

“When will you have the DNA?”

Her cheeks puffed and she blew out a breath. “Couple of weeks, and that’s putting a rush on the tests. Then we’ve got to run it through the databases and see if there’s a match.”

“Can you test the DNA against one particular individual?”

“The boyfriend or husband?”

“Both. And I’d also like it tested against a guy by the name of Philip Latimer. He was a cop in Nashville who worked with Deidre.”

“Where’d you come up with that name?”

“He was Leah Carson’s husband.” Though they might be legally married, he considered Latimer an ex-husband in every sense of the word when it came to Leah.

Georgia raised an index finger. “I remember that case. He nearly killed his wife. Stabbed her. Many were shocked because he was a decorated officer.”

Alex nodded. “Latimer stabbed Leah twenty-three times.”

“Like Deidre.”

“So it would appear.”

Absently, she tugged on a loose strand of hair. “I thought he was dead.”

“Supposedly, he died four years ago. And he might very well be dead. I could be wrong.”

That coaxed a smile. “I should get that on tape.”

He stared at her.

“Brother, you’re not wrong. You figure stuff the rest of us don’t.”

“DNA will move this theory to fact.”

“I’ll see what can be rushed.” She glanced at her case file. “I also found a footprint by the back door in the grass. He must have stopped to remove his protective suit and booties. Shifting weight to one leg left the imprint.”

“What kind of shoe?”

“A sports shoe. Judging by the tread, a cross trainer. Men’s size thirteen.”

“A big guy.” Like Philip. But also like Tyler and David.

Deke entered the room, his face darkened by a scowl.

“Georgia was just getting me up to speed on the evidence in Deidre’s case,” Alex said.

“Have you heard our brother’s crazy theory?” Georgia asked.

Deke sighed. “Which one?”

Georgia gave him the rundown.

Deke shook his head, but he didn’t laugh off the explanation. “Deidre’s connection to Philip would explain the missing money. Back from the dead, he no doubt needed money, and what better source than Deidre. Might also explain Deidre’s old business card, which we found near the John Doe.”

Alex held up a hand. “Let Georgia run her DNA, then we’ll get into how crazy this sounds. Leah has also signed a consent form so I can open Latimer’s grave.”

“That’s going to take time.”

“I know. But I filed the papers.”

“Fair enough.” He opened the manila folder in his hand.

“I just received Deidre’s cell and home phone information. It came in late last night, and instead of sending it over, I decided to just go through it.”

Alex struggled with a jab of annoyance. Big brother taking command again. It had been an argument they’d had before, but now wasn’t the time to revive it. “And what did you find?”

“Deidre’s burner phone received a dozen calls from three different numbers that lasted anywhere from three to five minutes. The calls started about six weeks ago. All from burners.”

“Three different people?”

“Maybe. Maybe it was one person who didn’t want to be traced.”

“Like a dead guy.”

“That would fit.”

The skin on the back of Alex’s neck tingled. DNA or no, he was right about Latimer. “What about her official cell phone? Any calls on that show up as unusual?”

“An interesting calling pattern there as well. Over the last months, she received two dozen calls from pay phones. All at random times. No patterns. None of the calls lasted more than a few seconds.”

“Someone was harassing her or keeping tabs on her?”

“One or the other. The calls stopped abruptly about four weeks ago.”

“What about Radcliff’s number? I caught him harassing Leah Carson today. Stands to reason he’d be harassing a soon-to-be ex-wife. Did his number show up on her records?”

“Several times, but all the calls were made during normal business hours. Any attorney could argue they were reasonable.”

“Radcliff’s smart enough not to leave an electronic trail. He’s got that reelection campaign this year, and he doesn’t want to screw it up with stalking charges.”

Deke closed his file, his scowl darkening. “Why the hell would Radcliff go after Leah?”

“Leah knew Deidre from the running group, and the two had a budding friendship. Radcliff thinks Leah knows more about Deidre’s personal life than she’s letting on.”

“Does she?”

“I think she’s told us what she knows about her.”

Georgia folded her arms over her chest. “I hear a but in there.”

Alex rose, shifting his stance. “No but. She’s open about Deidre. It’s her own past she guards closely.”

“Do you blame her?” Georgia challenged. “She was married to a monster. She’s likely carrying some guilt and shame.”

“Why?”

Georgia flicked a loose strand of hair from her eyes as if it were an annoying bug. “How long were they married?”

“Not very long.”

“My guess is that Latimer didn’t go postal on her all at once. I bet he slowly turned up the heat and she kept taking it. She’s ashamed she kept taking it. I know I would be.”

Deke nodded. “I saw the scars on her hands.”

Georgia drummed her fingers against her arms. “She was stabbed, and then she finds a friend stabbed. God, she must be freaking out at the idea that Latimer is still alive.”

“She was spooked.” Alex rarely second-guessed himself, but he again wondered if he should have dumped such explosive theories in her lap and simply left.

“My attacker was killed two years ago,” Georgia said. “I still have nightmares, and I sure don’t like to talk about it. I can’t imagine what she’s feeling.”

Deke seared his sister with his gaze. “You’re sharing all your worries with your therapist, right?”

Georgia wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like her.”

Alex faced his sister. “I don’t like a lot of things, but that doesn’t mean I don’t do them. You still seeing her?”

A sigh leaked through clenched teeth. “Yes. I see her. I just don’t like it.”

Deke studied her a beat longer, clearly determining if he should believe her. “So, when are you going to share with us?”

She laughed. “Never.”

Alex twisted his gold cuff link. “Why not?”

“You two aren’t the warm and fuzzy types.”

“Would you tell Rachel?” Deke asked. Rachel had lived the nightmare with Georgia, nearly died with her, and, in the end, saved her.

Georgia shrugged. “She and I talk.”

Deke’s gaze softened. “I didn’t know that.”

“Exactly. By the way, I think she wants to marry you. She’s scared of giving up her independence, but if you ask again, I bet she says yes.”

Deke’s gaze sharpened. “How do you know?”

She shot him a look.

“Right. Thanks.”

“Anytime. But don’t screw this one up, Deke. I like Rachel.”

Deke grunted. “So do I.”

Georgia snapped her fingers, as if suddenly remembering. “That John Doe who was shot and burned. Ballistics just came back. The bullet that killed him was fired from the nine-millimeter Beretta you found at the scene.”

Alex rubbed a thumb and index finger together as he thought. “Left the murder weapon at the site. Why?”

Georgia shrugged. “That’s your gig, bro.”

Deke looked at Alex. “I’m calling the lab and doing some leaning regarding the DNA on that victim as well.”

“Lean away, brother,” Alex said.

“Show them who’s boss, bro,” Georgia coaxed.

“Smart-ass.” Clutching his file, Deke left.

Georgia leveled her gaze on Alex. “I thought you kinda liked Leah.”

Alex studied his sister, unwilling to admit to any feelings. “What makes you say that?”

“I know you well enough. You wouldn’t have asked her out just for a case.”

He didn’t answer.

She shook her head. “Alex, I’ve no doubt you can lock away the emotions and do your job, but you need to be careful. One day you’re going to look for the key to those emotions and you won’t be able to find it.”

Thoughts of Philip stalked Leah all afternoon as she finished her afternoon appointments by five. She moved to the front desk, where a large tabby cat named Felix lounged. He was Dr. Nelson’s cat and visited from time to time.

Leah scratched Felix between the ears and handed the last chart to Gail as an elderly couple with a fifteen-year-old terrier left through the back door. Glancing out the window, she searched the lot for any signs of a car that didn’t belong or a person who stood a little too long in one spot. She saw nothing.

Gail accepted the chart. “How is Misty doing?”

Leah could almost hear the wheels in her head screeching and groaned as she forced her thoughts to change direction. “Surprisingly well. The Smiths are committed to giving her insulin shots each day and keeping her on a modified diet.”

“They do love that dog. I’ve been here ten years and remember when they brought her in as a puppy. They lost their son last year and I think losing Misty is just too much for them right now.”

“I can’t imagine losing a child.” She smoothed her hand to her flat belly. Philip had talked about having a baby often. Though she hadn’t had the strength to leave at first, she’d known for damn certain bringing a child into the mix would be dead wrong.

As the Smiths drove off, she spotted a black truck parked in the lot of the strip mall across the street. The windows were tinted, making it impossible for her to see inside. Had the truck she’d seen at the park have tinted windows? That was the kind of thing she should remember. Details were important when she documented her days in her journal.

Gail’s dark brows rose and she rested a hand on her full hip. “You’ve never had a pet?”

Leah pulled her gaze from the truck. “I had a black Lab as a kid. She was a great dog. She died right before I left for college.”

“That’s a long time ago. I’d think by now you’d be ready for another dog. You know Dr. Nelson would be fine with you bringing it to work.”

“I know. And maybe I will one day.” She’d avoided pets since Philip. She’d feared what he’d do to it if she had one. And now Alex thought Philip could be alive. Shit. She couldn’t dare risk loving anything now.

“A few new kittens arrived. All strays. Six or seven weeks and very cute. They’re in the kennel in the back.”

Knowing she wouldn’t take any of them, she said, “I’ll check them out.”

“While you’re back there, have a look at the post-op cases. We have the broken leg, two neuters, and a female Dr. Nelson is going to spay in the morning. The owner dropped the dog off while you were in surgery. She’s sweet, and I know she could use a walk.”

“Sure. I’ll have a look.” Leah headed back to the kennel, where she found her patients. Most were still dazed from surgery and lying in the corners of their cages. The dog, however, saw her, barked, and tucked its tail.

Leah moved to the cage and, taking a leash from the wall, opened the cage and took it from the wall. She checked the dog’s chart. “Charlie, how’re you doing?”

The dog’s tail relaxed at the sound of her name but she kept barking. Laughing, Leah hooked the leash to the dog’s collar and took her out the back door. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Charlie.”

The afternoon air was warmer, the sun bright, but a snap of cold in the air triggered a shiver. She led the dog to a patch of grass behind the clinic. The dog sniffed and calmly looked up at her.

Leah shivered. “Come on, girl, let’s get the job done. I’m not wearing a fur coat.”

The dog wagged her tail and then dropped on her hind legs to pee.

“Bless you.”

To give the dog extra exercise, she led her around the front of the building. She glanced toward the parking lot and noticed that the black truck was gone. “It was a damn truck in a parking lot. You don’t need to freak out because it had tinted windows. Alex is wrong. Philip is dead.”

The dog looked up at her and wagged her tail.

Leah shrugged. “Dog, if you got to know me better, you’d realize I worry about everything. I write down all the crazy details of my day because I can’t stop worrying.”

The dog cocked her head.

She knelt down and rubbed the dog between the ears. The dog licked her face and she laughed. Moments like this, she’d give anything to cut Philip from her past. She wished she could go back in time and be distracted just long enough so that their first meeting never took place. She wished.

Leah rose and guided the dog back in the front door, welcoming the heat. She took Charlie back to her crate, filled her food and water bowls, and patted her on the head before she closed the crate.

She spent the next half hour examining the other patients, who were all recovering nicely.

It was after six by the end of her shift. Gail had closed the front office, shut off the lights, and locked the front door. Alone in the clinic, Leah shoved aside a feeling of unease. Her skin prickled and her belly tightened, as if someone was staring at her. Watching from the shadows, like Philip used to do.

She went into her office, checked her cell phone, and immediately noticed she’d received a voice mail from the South Carolina detective. Her nerves jangled as she checked the message. “Mrs. Latimer.” The moniker had her gritting her teeth. “I’ve been traveling and just got your voice mail message today. Your husband’s death investigation was an open-and-shut case. We have no reason to reopen it. I received an inquiry from a TBI agent and forwarded my files to him. Again, we ruled this an open-and-shut case.”

Leah waited, expecting a “Call me if you need more information” or “I’m here to answer your questions.” Neither came. Clearly, the detective had better things to do than answer her questions.

Leah sat down in her darkened office and replayed the message. Nervous energy snapped through her as she tried to imagine, if Philip were alive, where he would be. If he’d been alive these last four years, she’d had no sign of him, or any real hint that he was out there stalking her. The creepy, tingling kind of feeling she used to get when he stalked her had returned a couple of weeks ago, but she’d chalked it up to nerves, a new home, even the New Year’s resolutions that forced her out of her comfort zone. There’d been plenty of reasons for it not to be Philip.

Unable to sit, she rose and grabbed her coat and purse. Keys in hand, she left by the back door, which locked behind her. She crossed the parking lot, glancing into the deep, dark shadows and the backseat of her car before she slid inside, and immediately locked the doors. She switched on the ignition and started driving. The idea of going home to darkness and solitude triggered more tension, so she opted to drive to the mall, full of bright lights and people.

She parked in a well-lit spot and hurried through the cold. She entered through the food court and was immediately drawn to a table of teenage girls who were laughing over a pizza and Cokes. Near them, a mother fed her two toddlers chicken nuggets, while several tables over, an elderly couple ate Chinese food.

The normalcy of it all surprised her. These people appeared to be going on with their lives, unaware that monsters like Philip Latimer lived in their world. A part of her wanted to scream a warning to them all. Philip had done a good job of toying with her sanity and making her question every creak, shadow, and bump in the night. But to behave like a crazy person now would do her no good. She held her silence.

She moved to a vendor and ordered a hot tea and a cookie. After paying for both, she chose a seat backed up against a wall in the center of the food court. She sipped her tea, watching a young couple saunter past. Their hands were linked, and the girl leaned into the boy as if she drew energy from him. She found herself searching the young girl’s bare arms, neck, and face for bruises. When she saw none, her utter cynicism struck her. She’d been hoping for a new way of living and thinking, and in the blink of one conversation, she’d regressed four years.

She reached in her purse and pulled out her journal. Carefully, she began to detail the day. She recorded the incident with Tyler Radcliff and Alex, and of course the latter’s theory about Philip. The craving for a cigarette rose up in her, so sharp and strong she wondered if there was a drugstore nearby. She caught herself before she went hunting for one.

Philip, you’re not going to keep ruining my life. You’re not.

Curling and flexing her fingers, she reached for her phone and dialed the South Carolina detective’s number. Yep, she was officially a nag when it came to the whereabouts of Philip Latimer, but she figured she’d earned the right. Though the one-hour time difference between Nashville and Greenville ensured she wouldn’t reach a live person, she made the call regardless. Ranting at a voice mail would work for tonight. After the phone rang and she waited for the away message and the beep, she said, “This is Leah Carson. I dropped the Latimer name years ago. I would like a call back in the morning regarding Philip Latimer’s case. I would like to discuss the details of his accident. So give me the courtesy of a return call in the morning or I’ll be contacting your supervisor.” She hung up, her face flushed with frustration and a bit of worry over her tone.

Leah rose, slung her purse over her shoulder, and grabbed her tea and cookie. But instead of heading home right away, she headed toward the crowds.

“Leah Carson.”

Leah stiffened just for a moment at the sound of the voice. She turned to find Alex Morgan standing just feet from her. “Alex.”

“What brings you here?”

“Just grabbing a bite to eat.” She found herself smiling. “I wasn’t interested in going home. You don’t strike me as a mall rat.”

“God, no. I come here only when I must.” He held up a bag from a sports store. “I needed new running shoes.”

“Plausible, but I don’t buy it.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve been stalked before. I’m not the most trusting person.”

His gaze held steady. “Shoes really don’t last long when you’re training. A few months at best.” He leaned forward a fraction. “No more signs of Tyler Radcliff?”

“No. No signs. I’m hoping he was just venting his anger and grief.”

“Anything else catch your attention?”

“You mean like my dead husband coming back to stalk me?”

“Exactly.”

If she weren’t so scared, she’d laugh. “No. And he wouldn’t be that careless. He was clever and knew how to turn up the heat without it blowing back on him.”

Alex frowned. “Why do you think he’d lay low for four years?”

“He was scared. Found someone else to stalk. Was bored. I don’t pretend to understand him.”

“If you had to pin one reason down?”

“He’d hate the idea of prison. He might still want me dead, but he wouldn’t want to pay the price.” She shook her head, running a trembling hand over her head. “And I think he might have been fine to leave me be as long as I stayed in the shadows. My life was fairly isolated in Knoxville. Now I’m back in Nashville. I have a good job. Friends. And I had a date; just one, but a date. He would hate that. Hate it.”

“You think another date would upset him?”

“It would.”

“Then let’s have dinner.”

She studied him. “This business or pleasure, Agent?”

He smiled. “Pleasure. But I won’t lie. If I can catch a bad guy, that’s icing on the cake.”

“You’re honest, I’ll give you that. I’ll take you up on the date after this is over. Then we’ll know for sure it’s pleasure.”

He nodded. “Do you have my phone number in your phone?”

“I do.”

“Good. Don’t hesitate to call.”

“You’ll get the first call if a crazed man with a knife appears.” The morbid joke undercut some of the fear.

“You have a ride to the running group tomorrow?”

“I can drive myself.” She rose. “So, are you going to follow me around until Philip’s status is resolved?”

He stood and moved closer until she could feel the energy radiating from his body. “Yes.”

She studied him, trying to gauge the depth of his commitment. One thing to say you’d help, it’s another to do it. “If you’ve done your digging, you know our anniversary is January twenty-fifth.”

“Yes.”

“He’d see a certain symmetry in killing me on our wedding anniversary.”

“I know.”

“So what do we do?”

“For the next few days either I or one of my men will shadow you.”

“This is the part where I tell you not to worry about me. I’m supposed to declare I can take care of myself. But I’m not going to do that. Follow me all you want.”

He took her arm with his hand and gently tugged her toward him until only a sliver of space separated them. He leaned his head forward to kiss her. Fear and excitement gripped her, but she held steady. Despite everything, she wanted this. Wanted to know what he tasted like.

He tilted his head and pressed his lips to hers. She raised her hand to his arm, and her fingers gripped the folds of his jacket. The kiss, tentative at first, grew a bit more insistent. She rose on her tiptoes but resisted the urge to wrap her arm around his neck. In the distance, she heard young girls giggling at their display. That thought led to another . . . was Philip watching?

She pulled back, moistening her lips with her tongue. For an instant, her voice seemed to have fluttered away and she couldn’t speak. She cleared her throat. “Was that business, too?”

Alex traced the line of her lip with his thumb before allowing his hand to drop possessively to her shoulder. His touch sent shivers through her body. “Definitely pleasure.”

He wasn’t a fan of the mall. He didn’t like the crowds or the noise. So much going on that it could overwhelm the senses. But Leah was here, so he followed. While she ate her cookie, he treated himself to a hamburger and fries across from her. A group of giggling girls at the table beside him had him remembering the first time he’d seen his wife.

She’d been with a group of her friends, and though some of the other girls were pretty, his gal had stood out to him like a beacon. He’d known from the moment he’d seen her that he wanted her. And so he’d set about following her. Not in a creepy, malicious way. He didn’t want to scare her. But he’d made a point of figuring out the places she liked, and he managed to be there. Soon he’d had her schedule down pat, so it became only a matter of time before they bumped into each other.

Now, as he watched Leah kiss this man, old memories soured. Leah, like Deidre, was a fickle creature. They were users. One marriage ended and they moved on to the next.

He balled up his napkin and threw it on the remnants of the burger and fries. As tempted as he was to attack her tonight, he quieted the desire. Move with patience and care. Slow and steady wins the race.

She’d have seen the dog by now. No way she couldn’t love that damn dog. Hell, he almost missed the mutt who’d stared at him with dopey, adoring eyes.

He rose and spotted another couple talking. The man clearly was attracted to the woman and the woman, though tentative, clearly liked him, too. A stab of envy sliced through him, and he knew, despite his slow and steady mantra, he’d get a pound of someone’s flesh soon.