Broken Promises (6 page)

She grimaced. “And then…?”

Man, she wasn’t cutting him any slack
whatsoever. “It ended. I got a promotion—my dream job—the Violent
Crimes Task Force.” Somehow, he had a gut feeling she wouldn’t be
congratulating him anytime soon.

“And it took your
sister
being
freaking kidnapped to bring you home. Real close-knit family you
have here, Double-O. How long’s it been since you came home?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?” He
didn’t want to admit once he’d left for college, he hadn’t been
home except for his adoptive parents’ funerals. School, the army,
and finally the Bureau were demanding of his time. But maybe if
he’d been home—and make no mistake about it, Canandaigua was the
only home he’d ever known—maybe his sister wouldn’t have been
abducted if he’d been there to protect her.

He gave a sheepish smile. “About the task
force—my boss gave me forty-eight hours. If I don’t wrap it up,
they’ll replace me.”

She rose from the bed and set her hands on
her hips. “Guess you’d better get off your ass and find your
sister, then. Clock’s a-ticking.”

Anger and a mixture of fear flashed through
him. “Like I don’t know that. Sit down and let me see your damned
pupils.”

“My pupils are fine,” she said hoarsely. “But
you’re giving me a major pain in the ass.”

Alex took a step toward Bette. The dog jumped
to her feet and began growling at him. Just how serious the
creature was, he had no intention of finding out. He backed up.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to upset her.”

“Shelties don’t like loud noises.” She sat
down and cuddled the dog like it was a baby. “Your sister’s a vet.
Don’t you know anything about dogs?”

He clenched his jaw and said through his
teeth, “She’s the vet. Not me.”

Realization dawned in her eyes. “You don’t
like dogs, do you?” She shook her head and shot him a disappointed,
tight little smile. “I’d never trust a man who didn’t like
animals.”

He walked over to the small fridge, pulled
out a bottle of water, and twisted off the cap. “It’s not that.” He
took a long swig, stalling. “It’s more like a…phobia.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “You’re
afraid
of dogs? Like Shadow could do much more than lick you to
death.”

Okay, show her the scars. She’s not going to
shut up until you do.

He walked over to the bed, pulled up his
sleeve, and raised his right arm. “I was nine years old. I was
mauled. One hundred stitches. That’s right, one hundred.”

“Aw, poor baby.” She ran her fingers over his
jagged scar. He shivered at the lightness of her touch and wished
she wouldn’t stop.

“Pit bull?”

“No.” He downed half the bottle of water. Why
couldn’t she just shut the fuck up about dogs?

“Doberman?” She gave him a knowing smile.

“No, just drop it.” He shoved his hands in
his pockets and began to pace.

“Please don’t tell me it was something like…a
poodle.” Triumph spread across her face.

Dammit. Jackie must’ve told her. “A
standard
poodle. Those are big dogs when you’re nine. And
this one was mean.”

“What did you do to the poodle? It had to be
your fault.” If she was trying to keep from outright laughing at
him, she wasn’t trying hard enough. Her dark eyes glittered with
amusement, and her lips twitched.

“All I did was cut across the Pearson’s
backyard, and she attacked me.” He raised his arm again. “Did you
even look at my scars? Believe me, they were no laughing
matter.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea. Yes, your scars
are awesome.”

“You think it’s funny.”

“No, I’m very sorry for the little boy who
was nearly lunch for a nasty old poodle. But you have to admit,
it’s pretty funny for a grown man, an FBI agent, no less, who no
doubt has stared down the barrel of a gun to get so bent out of
shape when this darling little dog growls at him.” More cootchy-coo
baby talk for the Sheltie. Precious little understanding for
him.

“It’s a phobia brought on by a childhood
trauma. Phobias by nature aren’t logical.”

“Sounds like Mr. Spock or some FBI shrink has
had hold of you.”

“Enough!” He headed for the door. “I’m going
back down to the stationhouse. I’d like to see what they’re getting
out of Brad.”

“Brad had nothing to do with Jackie going
missing. I’d bet money on it. They were a happy couple. I lived
with them for the last six months. I would know. At least, I think
I would.” Her expression grew pensive as she began chewing her
bottom lip. Her chin trembled.

“Did I say I thought my brother-in-law was
responsible? No. General wisdom says to go after the people closest
to the vic—” He broke off, unwilling to come right out and call his
sister a victim.

“She has to be all right. She just has to.”
Bette’s face flushed, and she suddenly started to cry again, her
shoulders shaking. “Never should’ve left her. My f-fault.” The dog
snuggled close to Bette and started licking her cheek, but at least
the creature wasn’t growling.

In spite of everything, he couldn’t leave her
like this. He closed the distance between them, sat on the bed
beside her, and placed his arm around her shoulders. “It’s not your
fault.” Her head rested against his chest. God, her hair smelled
good. Fresh as new-mown grass after a spring shower. He shut his
eyes and drank in her closeness. She felt so right in his arms. Why
hadn’t he come home sooner?

Because he’d wanted to avoid this very
situation. Bette was different from the other women he’d dated.
Feisty yet fragile. She needed someone who’d stick around and give
her a real family. Someone who’d grill burgers and hots on the
weekend and have his buddies over for poker parties.

And no matter how good and how right she felt
in his arms, he wasn’t that man.

“Bette,” he said softly, aiming to extricate
himself from the situation. She met his gaze, her lips parted. And
damned if he didn’t lower his head and kiss her. Soft. So damned
soft. He lost himself in the moment of expectation and of promises
unfulfilled.

Hungrily her body melded to his, and somehow
they were lying on her bed. His hands were skimming under her
T-shirt to her full breasts, and she was tugging at his belt. He
grew hard and pressed against her thigh.

“No.” She pulled away and started tucking her
T-shirt back in her jeans. “Sorry. I lost my head for a second.
Didn’t mean to attack you like—” She sniffed, wiped her eyes, and
said wryly, “Like an oversexed…poodle.”

He sat up and scratched his head and tried to
catch his breath. Good thing she’d come to her senses. Otherwise,
he’d be crawling between her sexy legs right now. And in a heap of
trouble. He cleared his throat. “Thought I was the one who attacked
you. Thanks for clearing that up.”

Her lips parted. No. Not gonna kiss her
again.

He sprang off the bed and straightened the
collar of his knit shirt. “Going down to the CPD. Be back in a
bit.” He stopped, turning toward her. “No, I’m not supposed to
leave you alone—your head.”

“Go on. I’m fine,” she said breathlessly.
“Maybe the detective has some news.”

Before he could lose his willpower again, he
nodded and beat it for the door.

She called after him, “Find out from Brad if
I need to pick up Cody.”

“Will do, Jersey.” He shut the door to the
motel room behind him and ran for his rental car, opened the door,
and slid inside. Finding his sister was what really mattered. No
doubt about it, Jersey was a major distraction.

Talk about a close call.

~~*~~

Bette lay back on the bed and shut her eyes,
then let out the heavy sigh she’d held back until Alex was beyond
hearing. She could almost feel his strong hands on her body. And
smell the soap he’d bathed with. His lips on hers. The taste of
coffee.

Shadow wiggled closer, nudging her pointy
nose under Bette’s hand. She stroked the Sheltie’s long fur and
told her, “You must be extra well-behaved around Alex, you know.
He’s a little dog-shy. It’s up to you to teach him all dogs aren’t
like that big old bad poodle.”

Thinking of Alex as a young boy brought
Jackie’s son to mind. She reached for the phone and called the
Crandalls, where Cody’d spent the night, and learned Brad’s sister
had picked him up and would take care of him until his father was
available.

Great. At least Cody was taken care of. One
less thing to worry about. Another call to Jackie’s locum tenens.
Apparently, the cops had released the office as a crime scene, and
all the overnight patients had been picked up at the Humane Society
by their owners. Jackie’s locum worked only part time, but she
agreed she would try to keep the office open as long as she
could.

Jackie. Jackie. Where are you?

She shut her eyes and tried to concentrate.
Nothing. No visual images. No messages through the mists of time
and space. Obviously, her psychic powers were nonexistent. Hell,
even a hunch would do.

If only she hadn’t left Jackie alone.
Together they could’ve fought him off. Together they would’ve stood
a chance. As it was, Jackie was likely facing a monster all
alone.

There must be something she could do.

Had some unknown someone been stalking Jackie
all along, just waiting for his chance to take her? Maybe. After
all, Bette’d had a stalker in Nashville, and after meeting Alex
that crazy New Year’s Eve, he’d helped her get away from the
creep.

He’d done more than offer; he’d been a
lifesaver. He bought her a plane ticket and sent her to work for
his sister. All Bette’s money had been stolen by the stalker, the
no-good SOB. And since moving, she’d put aside a little each week
to repay Alex. This was the first time he’d been home since she
first met him in Nashville six months ago. From the way he acted,
he hadn’t been home in years.

Strange. He seemed to really care about his
sister. Why leave and never bother to come home for a visit? Was he
so career-driven he could just forget about his family?

It wasn’t as if his family was anything like
hers.

Less said about them, the better.

Chapter Nine

The Canandaigua Police Department wasn’t used
to major crimes, and the lack of activity in the waiting room
showed it. In fact, they weren’t used to much crime at all. Alex
showed his ID to the desk sergeant and asked to see his
brother-in-law. They directed him back to an interview room. He
stood in the hall and observed Brad through the two-way mirror.

His usually well-pressed brother-in-law
looked like he could use a few hours of sleep. His eyes were a
bleary red, and his five o’clock shadow darkened his cheeks. For
the moment, he was alone, and his fingers beat a steady tattoo on
the table top. The door opened, and Brad jumped as if startled
awake.

Detective Spitz strutted into the small room
and sat. “Come on, Stinnett. Give it up. What did you do with your
wife? How’d it go, you got in an argument and lost your temper?
That happens, you know. We all lose our tempers with our wives.
Geez, they can really be bitches.”

Brad straightened his back and said patiently
as if speaking to a child, “I told you, Detective. I was in New
York City at a conference.”

“Yeah, about that. No one really remembers
you being there from about five o’clock on until we located you
this morning. You had plenty of time to get back to your wife’s
office and do away with her. Hell, maybe you even offed her at
home. Have some help from that hot little office manager of hers?
Can’t say as I blame you if you sampled some of that.” With a
knowing smirk, Spitz nodded. “Yeah.”

Spitz’s technique was right-on, and if the
detective hadn’t been talking about people Alex knew, he would have
approved of the line of questioning. But he did know them, and
tension gathered in his midsection. His jaw clenched.

“I didn’t have anything to do with my wife’s
disappearance. I love my wife.”

Beads of sweat collected on Brad’s upper lip.
All those telltale glances to the left. He had to be hiding
something. But what?

“Okay, Brad,” Spitz said, “just so you know,
you’re not leaving this room until you tell the truth. Where’s your
wife? Maybe you didn’t kill her. Maybe we can still pull your ass
out of the fire on this. Just tell me where she is.”

Brad buried his head in his hands. “I don’t
know
where she is. I told you and told you. I need to get to
my son, please.”

“Should’ve thought about your son before you
killed his mother.” Spitz shook his head. “Men like you make me
sick. Excuse me while I go out in the hall and puke.”

The detective left the interview room and
scowled at Alex. “You back?”

“I’d like to have a go at him. If he’s done
something to my sister, I want his ass.” He punctuated his remark
by hitting his palm with his other fist. He hadn’t known his
brother-in-law all that well, but what he did know was from high
school. Brad had been a dog and a bully. Maybe he’d never grown out
of it.

The detective nodded, his shiny head
glistening under the lights. “Have at it. He ain’t talking. They
never do until we catch ’em in an outright lie.”

“Thanks.” Alex entered the interview room and
took a bottle of water with him. “Here.” He handed the water to his
brother-in-law. Maybe it was time for a little “good cop,” since
Spitz’s “bad cop” routine wasn’t working. “Dude, that detective’s a
real asshole, isn’t he?”

Relief flooded his sister’s husband’s face.
“Man, am I glad you’re here. They think I did something to Jackie.
I was in frigging New York City.”

“Yeah? Or were you in New York dicking around
just like the detective said?” Okay, so maybe his good cop routine
had already left the building. Dammit. He
was
too close to
the case.