Beauty and the Chief (11 page)

He understood very well not letting fear win or control you. But it didn’t make it easier. “I guess I’d better go … unless you’d like me to stay a little longer?”

“I would say yes, but you really should get home and get some sleep.”

He didn’t want to leave her. “I could stay on the couch.”

That brought a smile. She reached up and brushed at her eye. “No, I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

“Have lunch with me tomorrow?”

“I thought I was making you dinner tomorrow night.”

“You are. I’ll take care of lunch.”

“I have a meeting in the morning with one of my contractors, then a new client. I’m not sure when I’ll be done.”

“Just give me a call and we’ll meet.”

“Okay.”

“Good.” He gave her a quick, hard kiss and walked to the door. “Lock up after me.”

***

The door banged back against the wall. The cop had almost caught him. What had he been doing there? She was his. She was Beauty. He stared at the faces on the wall. Jillian looked back at him from dozens of different angles. Yes, she was his.

No cop was going to stand in his way. He would woo her away. He would love her and she would love him just like it was meant to be. She was his Beauty.

Jillian ran up the stairs of the police station. At least she knew where she was going this time, but she wasn’t sure she felt any more comfortable. She remembered her last visit and as if she had conjured him right out of her mind, Detective Crocker appeared in front of her as she rounded the bend in the stairs. The plea that he wouldn’t recognize her barely crossed her mind before he looked her up and down.

A derisive look crossed his face. “Let me guess, you’re here to cry about the unfairness of life.”

Jillian shifted to the other side of the step to pass him, deciding it was better just to ignore him. She was parallel to him on the step when his hand snaked out, latching onto her forearm, jerking her to a stop.

“What are you doing? Let me go.” Jillian tried to pull away.

The man glared at her. “Back whining again. Such a beautiful eyeful, did you put on a good show through your peephole?”

Jillian sucked in a breath at what he was insinuating. It stung, especially after the restless night she’d had.

“I saw your name on the report,” he continued. “I’m not surprised you’d come complaining when a man looks at what’s offered, and you’re going to act all indignant. You’ve caused enough trouble. Just because you’re beautiful, you think you’re privileged. You’re not. You’ll bleed and die, just like the others.”

“Crocker.” Mark’s voice echoed in the stairwell. “What’s going on here?”

The detective glowered defiantly up. “Just came in to get something out of my desk before I go meet with the shrink.” His sneer was plain to see when he looked back at her. “See you around, beautiful.” He released her arm, heading down the stairs, ignoring Mark.

Jillian remained frozen on the stairs until Mark reached her. The hand he put on her arm was tender, comforting. Completely different from the one it replaced.

“Are you okay?”

The gaze he ran over her was also different from the other man’s. The curve of his lips was tender, and she released a sigh of pent-up energy. “I’m fine.”

Mark studied her face a moment longer until he must’ve been satisfied. “Good.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Sorry about that. I put him on leave until he completes a full psychiatric evaluation. He’s not taking it well. Come on, let’s get out of here.” He turned her down the stairs. “What would you like for lunch? There’s a pretty good Oriental restaurant down the block and an Italian across the street and a Mexican around the corner and down.”

Jillian found herself relaxing. “Oriental sounds good. We’re having Italian tonight, and I don’t know if I’m up to spicy today.”

“You okay?”

“Just nerves.”

“You didn’t get any rest last night. I knew I should have taken you home.”

“I did fine. I’ve just never had things like this happen in my life before. I tend to be pretty boring.”

“Let me tell you, you’re not boring.”

She shook her head. “It’s the new company I’m keeping. I’m the proverbial girl next door.”

“Well, I find the girl next door very attractive.” He looked her over.

They’d just reached the bottom step when Mark’s phone rang. He looked at the number. “Sorry.” He connected the call. “Richards.” He listened, and then looked down at her. Jillian knew what was happening even before he said the words. There was no faking the frustration in his voice when he said, “All right, I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“I know,” she said as he disconnected. “You’ve got to go.”

“I’m sorry. The mayor wants a meeting now. He’s getting a lot of pressure from the press. There’s a conference scheduled for one-thirty.”

“I understand.”

“This really doesn’t happen often. I want you to know that I won’t break dates often.”

“I said I understand, and I do. It’s all right.” She could tell it really bothered him and that made her feel warm inside.

“I’ll swing by and see you after the conference and take you home.”

“You don’t need to do that. I’ll be fine. I’m being very careful.”

“I’ll still try to be there. I’ll call you later.”

Jillian decided to take control of the situation and gave him a kiss. “Get going. I’ll see you later.”

***

Mark came around to open Jillian’s door then went to get Abby from the back. As promised, he appeared at her studio just before closing to pick her up, and no amount of persuasion could dissuade him from driving her home, even pointing out that he’d have to drive her to work in the morning.

“I still can’t believe you’ve never played soccer.” Jillian continued the conversation that had been going on during the drive.

“What can I say?” He shrugged. “It was football and baseball in my school. I was into football and also ran track.”

“Really, which events?”

“Hurdles, two hundred and four hundred.”

“Now, I am impressed.”

“I didn’t say if I was any good.”

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t imagine doing hurdles. I tried once. I tended to jump them. You know, like regular jump. The time I did come close to doing it right, I caught the hurdle and went down. That ended it for me. And though I was quick on the soccer field, I wasn’t nearly fast enough for a sprinter.” She looked over at him. “So were you any good?”

“I placed third in state on four hundred, fourth on two. So fair, just not spectacular.”

“I’d say that was spectacular. What did you play in football? Wait a minute, let me guess. The quarterback, calling the plays.”

“Nope, tight end, I was fast, could jump and good hands to shift into a receiver.”

Her next comment failed to come out as her, “oh,” changed to a gasp as a man popped up from behind the railing of her patio.

“Hi, Jillian. These are for you.”

Abby growled faintly as she, too, was startled. Jillian sagged against Mark’s arm.

Mark shifted back from the defense move he made to shield her when he recognized the man. “Toby,” he said sternly. “You can’t wait and pop up like that. You scare people. It frightened Jillian.”

Toby’s look turned to one of concern. “I’m sorry.” He looked to Mark and back to Jillian. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I wanted to give you the flowers.” He shoved the large bouquet of long-stemmed, red roses toward her.

Jillian swallowed. Getting herself back into control, she stepped forward and took them. “Thank you, Toby.” She lowered her nose to draw in the fragrance. “They’re beautiful. Why are you giving me flowers?”

“You’re supposed to give a girl flowers when you like her. Roses. Red roses.”

“Oh,” Jillian wasn’t sure what else to say. “Thank you.”

Toby looked at Mark. “Have you given her flowers before?” It was said as a challenge.

“No, I haven’t,” Mark replied.

Toby looked satisfied at the answer.

“Roses smell good. Do you like them, Jillian?”

“Yes, Toby, they smell nice and are very beautiful, but you shouldn’t have spent your money on them for me.”

The boy-man shifted. “They are American Beauties. I know ‘cause Sandra got some.” That comment made both Jillian and Mark freeze.

“You gave Sandra American Beauty Roses?” Jillian asked the question before Mark could.

Toby shifted again uneasily, and Mark repeated the question. “Toby, did you give Sandra American Beauty Roses?”

“No. She got them from a secret admirer, right after she got her picture in the paper. She was excited.” He looked at the flowers in Jillian’s hand and glanced down. This time it was Mark’s question that caused her pause.

“Toby, did you buy these flowers for Jillian?”

He weaved from side to side.

“Toby?” Jillian pressed.

“I wanted to give you the flowers.” Toby kept his eyes on the ground.

“I understand, and that was very nice of you, but where did you get them?”

He peeked up at her like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar, which Jillian thought was a fitting analogy. “They were by the door.”

Jillian knew instinctively that the words were coming, but still had to fight to keep from dropping the flowers. Her breath caught. Beside her, she felt Mark tighten.

“They were here when you got here?” Mark asked casually, but Jillian heard the tension in his voice.

Toby nodded still looking down. Jillian stepped forward placing a hand on his arm. “It’s okay Toby, I’m still glad you gave them to me.”

He looked up at her. “I wanted you to have flowers. Guys give flowers when they take a girl on a date. Will you go on a date with me?”

Jillian smiled gently, though her insides quaked. “I can’t. I’m dating Mark. I don’t date more than one man at a time.”

Toby sent a glare at Mark. “Will you date me when you stop dating him?” He shifted from side to side.

“We’ll have to wait and see Toby. I like Mark a lot. I’d like to date him for a long time.”

“Are you going to marry him?”

Jillian felt herself blush. “I might, it’s still soon, but I love him already.”

Toby kicked his foot on the ground.

Jillian squeezed down the hand she had on his arm. “I’m sorry, Toby. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He pulled back from her.

“Toby,” Mark drew his attention to him. “Are you certain Sandra got roses like these?”

For a minute, it looked like Toby wasn’t going to answer, then he nodded. “She told me all about them. She’d never got roses like them before. She didn’t know who gave them to her, but she was real excited. Jillian, will you still be my friend even if you marry him?” He looked pleadingly at her, and then sent another glare at Mark. “I knew you first.”

“Of course. I’ll always be your friend,” she assured him, patting his arm.

He nodded and looked up. “I brought Abby another bone.” And he pointed to the bag on the patio table.

“Thank you, Toby.”

“If you want flowers, I’ll bring you flowers. They sell them at work.”

“That’s not necessary. But, thank you. I’m just glad you’re my friend, and Abby really loves the bones. Toby, we have to do something now. So I have to go. Bye.” She shifted, anxious to talk to Mark about what Toby said.

“Okay, Bye.”

“Just a minute.” Mark stopped him as he started to turn. “Toby, one more question? Did you see who left the flowers?”

Toby shook his head.

“All right, thanks, Toby.”

The man sauntered away, glancing back several times at Jillian. When he went around the corner of the clubhouse Mark saw him duck back behind the bushes so he could watch them. “Come on, let’s go in.”

The minute they entered the apartment, Jillian dropped the flowers as if they were poison ivy and turned to him. “There’s a connection between the roses and The Beast.”

Though she voiced his thoughts, Mark didn’t want her going too far with the hypothesis yet. “We don’t know that.”

She eyed him. “But you’re thinking it.”

She was too bright, or she knew him too well for the short period of time they had been together. “I’m wondering. We don’t know for sure. Toby’s information might not be very reliable.”

Jillian stared at him for a minute then went to her desk, found a piece of paper and dialed the number. “Mr. Cannon? Hi, this is Jillian Taylor. Yes, I’m fine. How is Sandra tonight?” She listened and smiled. “That’s good. I heard about that. No, she’s great, getting around with no problem, but we’re still not jogging yet. Mr. Cannon, what I called you for was to ask a question. I’m really sorry to bother you about this, but did Sandra receive any flowers lately?”

Her face clouded as she listened, and her voice shook on the next words. “Yes. They are. Would you mind if Police Chief Richards and I went and got them? We don’t know. He was with me when someone mentioned that she received roses and we wondered. I agree, they’ll keep her safe, and they’re doing all they can. They’ll get him. Try not to worry about that. Yes, I’ll call later. Thank you. You, too. Bye.”

She hung up the phone and turned to him. “Sandra received a dozen long-stemmed, red roses about a week before the attack. Her father said he thought they were probably still sitting in her room if you’d like to look at them. We can go now and get them. Her brother should be home.”

It didn’t take Mark long to make up his mind. “Let’s go.”

The wilted roses were still there, draped over the vase on her dresser. They looked like they would have been similar to Jillian’s when fresh, and like Jillian’s, there wasn’t a card. Sandra’s brother confirmed that because he’d teased her about it.

“You’re troubled,” Jillian observed as he secured the dead flowers in the back of his car.

“I’m afraid I’m about to ruin the rest of our evening. I’m not going to get dinner with you. I’d like to go over to Tina Kimball’s apartment. She was the victim before Sandra. Her apartment’s is still empty. Though it wasn’t the crime scene, the family wasn’t ready to go through it yet and agreed to leave it until the rent was up just in case it might help.” Mark didn’t want to leave her, and relief filled him at her question.