Damaged Goods (16 page)

“A lot.” She gave in with a sigh. “I don’t know. I really like him. He’s so sexy and strong and God, is he ever good in bed.”

“Terryn,” Brice interrupted with a new edge to his voice, “don’t make me kill my best friend.”

She giggled. “Sorry. But he’s wonderful. I really like him. Only—he’s not you. And I don’t know, I guess I felt wrong somehow being there when you weren’t. Like, like—it sounds dumb—but it’s like without you there it’s almost like I’d be cheating or something.” She waited for a while and when he didn’t say anything she asked, “Is that stupid? Am I being stupid?”

“No, Red.” His voice was soft and she was back to warm fuzzies when he said, “Not at all. In fact, I’m sorry I didn’t think of that myself so you wouldn’t be home alone and feeling awkward. You were there as my sub, so it’s natural that you would feel that way left alone with another Dom. You knew that even though I was okay with him joining us and touching you with my permission, without me there it would feel wrong.” He paused for a minute. “Do you know why that is, sub?”

“No, Sir,” Terryn answered, feeling a tingle of awareness in response to his Dom voice.

“It’s because you belong to me and even though we haven’t talked about commitments or arrangements, your body knows it.” Another long pause. “And, Terryn? So does mine.”

Brice hung up his cell and allowed himself one more moment of gloating. What he had with Terryn felt solid and right and good. He’d had no interest in a permanent relationship before meeting her. Now the thought of not having her with him permanently caused a disturbing amount of panic in his gut.

After this case was closed, they’d have that talk about commitments and arrangements. They’d have to make some adjustments on both sides. He’d insist on her moving in. That was a hard line for him. Although her neighborhood was nice enough, he wanted her in his arms every night. On his end, he was going to have to find a way to pull back at work without letting his cases suffer. There were plenty of guys on the force who had found the right balance. No reason to think he couldn’t also.

With his mind settled on the next phase of his life with Terryn, he switched gears and turned to look into the coffee shop he had been sitting in front of while they’d talked.
See
, he silently told himself,
compartmentalizing already
. Then he got out of the car and headed in to talk to the owner.

“Hello, Detective.” Jeannette Hankins looked up at him with a grief-ravaged face and didn’t bother trying to force a smile.

She was an attractive woman in her late thirties with chin-length brown hair and round hazel eyes. She was smart and had a sense of humor that she used with charming skill on everyone who crossed her path. Including him. He’d let her tease and charm him, both he and his partner had, and now two of her employees were dead while a third one barely clung to life. He’d never even considered her. Had he let a killer deceive him? He was here to find out.

“Hi, Jenny.” She noticed something in the way he spoke because her hands stilled and her eyes filled. “Oh, God.” He watched what color she had drain from her face. “She’s gone? Is Angie gone?” Brice quelled the urge to comfort, trying to see a killer in what he’d previously decided was an innocent woman.

“No, Jen, no. Angie is still in ICU—there’s no change.” When she wilted in relief, Brice asked, “Where were you last night?”

She looked at him in puzzlement. “I was here as soon as I got the call from one of your officers. I let you all in and made everyone coffee.”

“Where were you when you got the call?”

“I was home with Bill and the kids. Before that we were at a ball game. Bill coaches for our youngest and we all go to help out at the concession stand.” She crossed her arms over herself in a protective gesture. “Am I a suspect, Detective?”

“I’m asking the whereabouts of everyone connected. What time was the game over?”

Brice watched her eyes dart around the room. “Nine o’clock.”

“Late for a Little League game, wasn’t it?”

She bit her lip and answered, “Not really. It got over earlier than that, but we had to help out. You know, close out the stand and clean up and stuff.” She tugged at one ear and then scratched at her neck. She was awful fidgety for a mom recounting her kid’s Little League game.

“Care to tell me why you’re so nervous?” He pointed to her hand that was now scratching at her leg and she visibly forced herself to relax.

“It’s just…” A huge sob broke from her chest. “Just that I‘m scared. I’m scared that my shop is going to close down because no one is coming here for coffee anymore and—and—and what if he comes after me next?”

She crumpled. Brice watched in horror as she simply dropped out of view and disappeared behind the counter. He heard her sobbing voice float up from the floor. “I’m next, I know it and I got kids and my husband and I don’t wanna lose my shop and I’m scared and what am I going to do?”

With all the caution he would use approaching a bomb, Brice leaned over the counter and looked down. She was hunched over with her arms clasped around her middle, sitting cross-legged. She rocked back and forth and continued to sob out her misery to the floor. “I’m a terrible person. I should be worried about my poor girls. Katie and Amber and now poor sweet Angie but all I can think about is me and my stupid business. I’m awful. I-I-I-I’m a bad person.” Then the rest was lost in some pretty impressive wailing.

The bell above the door chimed. Brice looked over to watch the customer who came in pause and go wide-eyed at the sound of weeping. She looked at Brice and he just shrugged and pointed over the counter to where Jenny continued to bawl.

“Maybe you should come back later,” he told her even as she turned and fled. He walked back to the door and locked it behind her. When he came back, Jenny was pulling herself up with both hands and looked like she’d aged about twenty years in the last ten minutes.

“I don’t even know why I opened today. I should have stayed home. I should have. Bill told me to.” She gave a watery huff. “Shit, Bill told me to close permanently and sell.” She looked at him with her heart in her eyes. “I can’t sell. I love this place. And, Detective, believe it or not, part of why I love this place is my girls. I do. I love my girls and I can’t take this.” She seemed to steel herself and then asked, “Are you arresting me?”

Brice grabbed a napkin from the counter and handed it to her. “No. I’m not arresting you.”
Yet.
“Your back door is locked with a deadbolt.”

She blew her nose and answered, “Yes.”

“Any way for it to be locked without a key?”

Another blow and snuffle. “No.”

“Can you explain how Angie was out in the alley with her keys inside and yet you had to come let everybody in?”

The blowing stopped and Jenny looked at him with fresh horror.

“Whoever attacked Angie locked up before they left. Seems the killer loves this shop too.”

In the family waiting area of the hospital, Brice sat knee to knee with Kent and filled him in on his little talk with Jenny. “Mandy is the only other employee and therefore key we have left. I went back through the belongings of the first two and both of their keys are accounted for.”

“So unless someone made a copy, we are down to two suspects.” Kent was haggard and wrung-out, but now he also looked determined.

“That’s a big unless, but yeah. That’s my take too.” He motioned with his chin to the ICU. “How is she? Any change?”

“No.” Kent ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “They have her in a medically induced coma. They said it’s supposed to give her time for the brain swelling to go down. But with that they have to have a machine breathing for her and they can’t get an accurate reading of her brainwaves, so they have no idea if she’s going to come out of this a vegetable or not. Doc said the damn bastard beat the shit out of her skull. They said it’s a miracle she didn’t die on impact because her whole skull is a fucking spider web of cracks.”

His shoulders slumped and he dropped his head into his hands with a barely controlled sob. Brice reached out and squeezed his shoulder in comfort. “Her right elbow was shattered, collarbone too, and a couple ribs. They had to remove her spleen—it was demolished.” Kent looked up and locked eyes with him. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do if she doesn’t make it. She has to fucking make it.” With another compressed sob, he shoved to his feet and paced to the window.

Brice sat where he was and watched helplessly while his partner battled the grief and worry. He knew Kent had been seeing Angie since Katie's funeral and if he’d had any doubts before about how serious it was, seeing the shape he was in right now eradicated them. They’d been partners for years and he knew that Kent needed the space to pull himself together. Giving him his space didn’t stop his heart from breaking for him, though, didn’t even come close.

After several painful moments, Kent wiped an angry hand under his nose and said, “I can’t leave here yet. Not this soon. Leave me the background files and I’ll go over them again. You go home.”

“I’ll stay,” Brice said with a frown. Did Kent honestly think he’d leave him like this?

“No, really.” Kent sat back down and faced him again. “You’ve been working this all day. Go. I’m here and re-reading these will take my mind off some of the worry, if I’m lucky. I saw Gage last night at the scene. Go. Go spend time with your friend and get some sleep. I’m fine.”

Brice just got up and walked to the coffee station on the back counter. “So, you want any coffee with your sugar or should I just bring you this?” He held the sugar container up and wagged it back and forth without looking back.

Kent pushed back to his feet and joined him. “I’ll make my own.” Brice shook his head in wonder—guy shouldn’t have a tooth left in his head with all that sugar. “Thanks,” Kent said, staring into his coffee as he stirred.

“We’re partners,” Brice said with a shrug. “Thick and thin, right?”

“Right.” Then the two of them sat down with the files and got back to the hunt for a killer.

Chapter Fifteen

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid bat! Why did I use a bat? How stupid. Now she’s not dead, the stupid bitch is in the hospital and everyone is all worried and praying for her and hoping she’ll pull through. Everyone is as stupid as the bat. Why do they even care? The world is without one more slut once she stops being stupid and dies. I can’t believe she didn’t just die. Bitch.

Terryn walked into the Surf-N-Slurp not knowing what to expect. She’d come on an impulse. She felt so bad for Jenny. None of this was her fault—some sicko was targeting the girls that worked here and Terryn just knew this was killing her.

Maybe she was crazy. Maybe she was taking a useless risk, but Katie had loved Jenny and loved this place and Terryn did too. Not to the same extent that Katie did, but enough that when Jenny looked up from behind the counter the first thing she said was, “So, can I get free coffee through my whole shift or am I limited to just one a day?”

“Huh?” Jenny looked like she hadn’t slept for the last week. Her confusion and exhaustion were plain on her face.

“Coffee?” Terryn said as she stepped behind the counter and reached for one of the aprons hanging on the back wall. It was brown and had a slogan on it that read: “There’s too much blood in my caffeine system.” All the aprons were fun and came in a rainbow of colors with a different saying or picture on each one. It was a trademark of the Surf-N-Slurp and one of the things that made the café stand out. “I know the girls all get free coffee as a perk. What I wanna know is if I’m limited to one a day or is it a no-holds-barred kind of thing?”

“You want to come work here?” Jenny’s hazel eyes filled and her bottom lip quivered. “That’s so sweet. You would do that for me? Really?”

Terryn wrapped her in a hug. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” Jenny let out a watery snort and gave her a look that comment deserved. “Well, maybe not of course. I’m not stupid. But Katie loved you and I love you and I honestly think a full third of the population of New York will die of caffeine withdrawal if you close down. I can’t in good conscience let that happen. So I’m here to help.”

“You sweet thing.” Jenny cupped a hand on Terryn’s face. Terryn had seen her do it dozens of times to her daughters and the girls who worked for her. “I love you for offering. But it’s too dangerous. As much as I need you, I can’t let you or anyone else take that kind of risk.” She looked around at the deserted dining area with a watery sigh. “I can’t just shut down, but I won’t put anyone else in harm’s way. I’ll be working open to close and Bill will be dropping me off and then coming in to close with me every night. It’ll be hard for a while, but I can’t stand the thought of anyone else getting hurt.”

Terryn looked at the circles under her eyes and said, “You’ll have to teach me how to work the machine because I can barely make drip coffee that’s drinkable. The baking will be cake, though.” She smiled and gave Jenny a nudge to move her to the side so she could wash her hands in the small sink. “I have always been a wiz at baking.”

Jenny shook her head and before she could add in more objections, Terryn barreled on. “It’s only short term and only part-time. I work Monday through Friday at the center and I’ve arranged to cut back my hours so I can be here by four three days a week. I’ll also work every other weekend for you —that way you can have some time with your family.” She faced Jenny straight-on and looked her right in the eye. “We can’t let him win. I know you are worried, but just like you have Bill, I’ll have Brice.” Terryn mentally crossed her fingers on this part because she was only hoping that he could come through. After all, she knew his work was highly unpredictable, so she would cross that bridge when she got to it. “I’ll have him be here to close with me the way Bill will be here to close with you.”

“I don’t know, Terryn,” Jenny hedged. “You are so sweet to offer, but I couldn’t live with myself if you got hurt trying to help me.”

“Look, Jenny,” Terryn said, “I know there is risk. I know to be careful. The others didn’t. I won’t let my guard down and I am dating the detective who’s going to put this psycho in a cage, so I think I’m pretty safe. Let me help.”