Broken Promises (3 page)

Spitz frowned, his forehead creasing. “I was
on patrol then. Remember the case well. But this isn’t the same
thing.” He shook his head. “Nothing like.”

“You don’t know that. Has anyone bothered to
enter the details into ViCAP? Maybe there’ve been similar cases
nearby.”

Spitz stood and stuffed his hands in his
pockets. “You know, you’re starting to piss me off, Agent. Why
don’t you get along home and check the phone for voice-mail
messages from your runaway sister.”

He spun and hit the wall with his fist.
“Dammit! My sister isn’t a runaway. Someone took her!”

“We’re through here.” Spitz’s chin jutted out
with his determination. “Now, if you don’t mind, or even if you do,
I’d like to get back to the case. I’m sure you can find your way
out.”

Alex sucked in a breath and clenched his jaw.
Sonofabitch wasn’t going to do a damned thing to find Jackie. “I’ll
run my own investigation, Detective. You and this department better
pray I find her alive and well.”

He stomped out and rushed to the fresh air of
the city street. The temperature gauge read eighty degrees. Almost
a freaking heat wave for upstate New York.

Since Andy had died at fourteen, it’d just
been the two of them, Jackie and Alex. And as good as their
adoptive parents had been, they couldn’t make up for the loss of
his identical twin. They couldn’t fill the gutting hole left in his
soul. Most of all, they couldn’t wipe away the guilt of a promise
not kept.

No one could.

Chapter Four

After leaving the police station, Bette
headed for the animal hospital. She hopped into her second-hand
Corolla and then drove down Ontario, hung a left on Main heading
toward the lake, then another left on Eastern Boulevard. Stinnett
Veterinary Clinic was located just inside the city limits. Neon
yellow crime scene tape was draped around the porch columns,
barring the entrance…and making a jarring contrast with the
bungalow’s moss-green lap siding, cream shutters, and forest-green
door.

She pulled into the side lot where employees
usually parked and found the side entrance was taped off as well.
To make matters worse, it was Saturday morning, and four cars were
already parked in the front lot just outside the crime scene
tape.

Damn.

What were they going to do without a vet? The
locum came in only on Wednesdays. Maybe she’d consider coming in
full time until Jackie was found. How would they pay the locum? As
the office manager, she’d have to worry about that particular issue
later. More importantly, when would the authorities let them back
into the office?

What if they couldn’t find Jackie?

Jeez. Stop it. No negative energy. Positive
thoughts. Positive thoughts.

She climbed out of the car and marveled at
the mild eighty degree temperature. In Nashville, where she’d lived
for eight years before moving to upstate New York, it would already
be in the low nineties and humid as all get-out.

Might as well get it over with. Telling
clients the doctor wasn’t in and who the hell only knew when or
if
she would return wasn’t a job she relished. But since
crime scene tape wasn’t part of the usual parking lot décor, the
people waiting in their cars probably already figured something was
up.

She walked along the edge of the tape and met
the first of the clinic’s clients: tall, slender, silver-haired
Gloria Mason with her asthmatic and obese Pekinese. Who said dogs
and owners looked alike? Not these two.

“What’s going on, Bette? Was there a
break-in? Someone looking for drugs?” the woman asked.

Bette worried her bottom lip before
answering. “Dr. Stinnett’s missing. We don’t know what happened. Or
where she is.”

Mrs. Mason shot Bette a hooded sideways
glance, then nodded with a knowing expression. “Oh, well, it was
her husband. It’s
always
the husband.”

Bette shook her head. “Mr. Stinnett’s out of
town. Please. The police are handling it.”

“It’s like what happened to her brother.” The
woman let out a theatrical sigh. “Here one minute. Gone the
next.”

“No, Alex is fine. I just saw him at the
police station.” The words came out too fast. Too late to bite her
tongue.

“I mean the other one. Andy or Andrew—he
disappeared too.”

“What?” Before she could ask any more
questions, another client came up: Tom Miller with his Maltese,
Buffy, a darling little creature who could always be depended upon
to act out as soon as his owner left the premises.

Bette reached out and rubbed the little white
dog’s head, then clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention.
“You’ll probably be hearing about this on the news soon enough.
Jackie—Dr. Stinnett—is missing. The office is closed until the
police department removes the tape. I don’t know when that’ll be.
If you have an after-hours emergency, please call the emergency pet
clinic in Rochester.”

One of the clients didn’t bother to get out
of his car but backed out and drove off. The last remaining client
was a tall, skinny man she didn’t recognize. He climbed from his
red pickup and led a small tricolor Sheltie by its leash. He tried
to hand Bette the leash, but she backed up and shook her head.
“We’re closed. You need to take—”

He ran his hand through his shaggy hair.
“Can’t. Mom’s had a bad stroke, and they say she has to go to a
nursing home. I work construction all over the east coast, and I’m
only home once every three weeks. I can’t take care of a dog. My
mom set great store by this little dog, but I don’t know what else
to do with her.”

She looked down into a pair of big dark eyes.
Eyes that said, “Take me home. Love me.”

Unable to resist the unspoken plea, Bette
took the leash. “What’s her name?”

“Shadow.”

“How old?”

“Around two. She’s had her shots. Mom had her
spayed during one of those shelter spay days.”

What was she thinking? How could she manage
to care for a pet when everything with Jackie was up in the air?
Hell, she might not even have a job. But that was selfish, and here
was this dainty little creature staring up at her, trusting Bette
would do the right thing.

“I’ll take her.” She looped the leash around
her wrist and sighed.

The man nodded. “Thanks.” He ambled back to
his truck. She knelt down and held out her hand for the dog to
sniff. The Sheltie backed away, typical behavior for the breed,
then apparently decided Bette would do after all. The dog wagged a
plumy tail and licked Bette’s hand.

She hunkered down, pulled the dog to her, and
buried her nose in the luxurious fur. The bitch’s coat was well
brushed and smelled clean. At least she’d been taken care of. For a
moment, the release of tension was like the rush of water from a
bathtub when the plug was pulled. “Yeah, we’ll suit, won’t we?”
What she’d do with a dog in her small, basement apartment, heaven
only knew. Thank goodness her landlords were animal lovers.

At the thought of Jackie, the tightness in
Bette’s shoulders returned with a rush. The dog grew skittish and
backed away. “Sorry, girl. It’s not you. It’s me.”

“Sounds like you’re breaking up with her
instead of taking her home.”

She looked up. Alex stood looming right
behind her, all six-feet whatever of him. “Well, well. If it’s not
Double-O himself.”

“Yeah, thought I’d better warn you. That
idiot disguised as a detective has figured you for being
involved.”

“Believe me, I noticed.” She stood and looked
at the Sheltie, then at Alex. “I must be crazy, but I couldn’t say
no to those big brown eyes.”

“Know what you mean. I—” He shifted from one
foot to the other, then looked at the crime scene tape and
frowned.

Okay, was it her imagination? Was he actually
referring to Bette’s eyes he couldn’t say no to instead of the
Sheltie’s?

Still scowling, he paced, stiff-legged, back
and forth beside the perimeter tape. “Can’t get in to see the
scene. Detective Spitz couldn’t, or wouldn’t, tell me squat about
any physical or forensic evidence they’d found. I can’t get a
handle on the situation. I know one thing for damned sure. My
sister wouldn’t run off and leave her husband, much less her
kid.”

“No, she wouldn’t.” Bette began to pace
alongside Alex. The dog heeled perfectly, as if she were competing
at Madison Square Garden. Yes, she’d made the right decision.
“She’s the most direct person I’ve ever known. Never pulls any
punches.”

“You don’t know what she went through to have
Cody. It was three years of torture.”

“Actually, I do.” She watched him
surreptitiously from beneath her lashes. Might as well be a
stranger for all the attention he paid. “Jackie told me a bit about
it. We’d share a Diet Coke over lunch and talk about stuff.” She
chuckled. “Okay, most of the time, I talked and she listened. Once
in a while, she’d tell me what a dumbass I’d been about this or
that—and she was usually right.”

“Big sisters are always right. Don’t you
know?” His tone was flat. Any warmth she might’ve expected just
wasn’t there.

She gave a quick shake of her head and
fluffed her hair. “Wouldn’t know. I only have the one brother.” Why
hadn’t he told her about
his
brother? They’d spent a lot of
time talking that night in Music City.

Hunkering down to pet the dog, she looked up.
“So how are we going to find her before…?”

His blue gaze was cool. Too cool. “There’s no
‘we’ in this case. I’m not here officially, but that doesn’t mean
I’m going to sit on my ass and wait for that idiot Spitz to find
her. But
you
need to stay out of it. At the very least,
you’re a material witness. And if whoever took Jackie thinks you
can ID him, you’re in danger too. Go home. Lock the door and keep
your head down.”

“Not going to work.” She shrugged, rose, and
shot him a skeptical stare. “Besides, now I have a dog to
walk.”

“Right.” He raked his hands through his hair.
“Great idea. Make yourself a walking target. I can see it
now
—
you’re busy bending over picking up
dog poop, and some jerk comes along, hops out, and snatches you off
the street quicker than I can say son of a bitch.”

She squared her shoulders. “Fine. You can
stand here and piss and moan all day, but I’ve got to hit the pet
store before I take this little girl home.” She headed toward her
car, then stopped and turned. “But when you’re ready to let me help
you… Well, you know where I live.” She flipped her hair back,
opened the car door, and scooted the Sheltie inside. Jackie would
read Bette the riot act if she ever found out she transported
Shadow without a cage or some kind of restraining device.

The riot act would be worth it if only they
could find Jackie.

~~*~~

Alex shook his head and watched Bette drive
away, all sassy and sexy and full of attitude. No, he hadn’t been
able to resist her on New Year’s Eve. Dammit. She’d needed his help
that night, and somehow he managed to resist his baser urges, which
definitely included screwing her brains out.

She’d challenged him. But no way in hell was
he getting a civilian involved—not any more than she already was.
His warnings weren’t just to hear himself talk. He meant every
word.

As much as his stomach knotted at the very
thought of what his sister was going through or had gone through
already, he couldn’t accept the conventional wisdom that she was
already gone any more than he could accept the detective’s notion
that she’d run away.

He walked over to his rental car, got inside,
and sat for a moment. This was nothing like what had happened to
Andy. He’d made no promises to Jackie.

This wasn’t
his
fault.

So why did it feel like it was?

There were so many things he could’ve done
differently. He could’ve stayed closer to home instead of
gallivanting all over the country like a modern knight in a black
suit and tie. He couldn’t deny his brother’s death at fourteen had
set the course for the rest of his life. It inspired him to join
the FBI, driving him to achieve his goal of working on the Violent
Crimes Task Force.

The Task Force cleaned up the slime. Worse
than slime—predators of all types, especially those who preyed on
children. Every time a case was solved, there were four more to
take its place. A freaking never-ending struggle against evil.

This time, it was his sister who was missing.
His sister, who held him when he cried himself sick for a solid
year. Who told him it wasn’t his fault. Evil had raised its ugly
head here in rural upstate New York, his home stomping grounds.
This time, he wasn’t a powerless teenage boy. And this time, he
would see to it the results were different.

Chapter Five

Chew toys, a bed, a big bag of dog food, and
a crate. For the moment, those would have to do. Bette surveyed her
small apartment. The Sheltie didn’t take up much room and seemed
eager to please her new mistress. But why on earth had she taken on
the responsibility of a pet?

No, that wasn’t the question. Truth be told,
she’d been dithering back and forth on the issue ever since she
went to work at the veterinary clinic. The real question was, why
now, when so much was unsettled?

Let’s face it. She was a sucker for big brown
eyes. Blue ones too, for that matter. Of the human variety.

The floorboards above her creaked. Shadow’s
ears pricked. Someone was in the house.

Probably Alex.

Might as well go up and help him get settled.
She’d already called Cody’s kindergarten teacher and explained the
situation. She arranged for him to spend another night with the
Crandalls, unless his dad came home in time. Where was Brad,
anyway? Had he made it to the police station? More important, where
was he when she tried to call him last night?