Harlequin Heartwarming May 2016 Box Set (87 page)

That drew a few laughs, and he joined them.

“It's likely a handful of youthful pranks coinciding with a few cases of folks putting things away and not remembering where they put them.” He was sure his mother fell into the second category.

“But good police work means keeping an open mind and not letting our judgment be clouded by preconceptions, so if you see anyone skulking around residences, especially the ones in the old quarter closest to downtown, feel free to cuff them and bring them in.” He glanced around the room. “You might even make it into that blog everyone's been talking about.”

More light laughter.

“On a more serious note, the other favor concerns the young Daniels woman who was picked up a couple of weeks ago. She spent a week here, then she left, and now she's back and working at the Riverton Bar & Grill. She's a key witness in that triple homicide in Chicago, and I still have a vested interest in the case. If you notice any peculiar behavior, I want to hear about it, no matter how inconsequential it may seem. If you suspect she's drinking and driving, pull her over and bring her in.”

Jack's request was met with a round of nods.

“That's it for me. Unless anyone has anything they'd like to add, let's get back to work, or to enjoying those days off.”

After some handshakes and shoulder slapping, the officers drifted to the front desk, the report writing room or to the parking lot. Jack watched them go, then refilled his coffee cup and carried it to his office. Today, he would be keeping his chair warm while he pored over the files sitting beneath Emily's horseshoe. He checked his phone, and smiled nervously when he saw a text from her. She had gone for her first ultrasound that morning, and it had practically killed him not to be there with her. He hadn't realized until now how anxious he'd been feeling.

Bet U knocked their sox off 2day. Saw baby move. Heart beating like crazy. All's well. Em

The image from the ultrasound was attached. Jack lowered himself into his chair, not taking his eyes off the screen. He hated text messages, and this monitor was too small to reveal much detail in the gray blur. Emily's message sounded so matter-of-fact, but surely she must be excited. He hadn't even been there, and he was experiencing waves of emotions he couldn't begin to identify. Next time she had one of these appointments, nothing would keep him away. Right now, though, he had two important tasks at hand. One was learning how to run a police force, and the other was figuring out how to make sure Emily Finnegan said “yes” the next time he asked that all-important question.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

E
MILY
CLATTERED
DOWN
the stairs to the door and then dashed the half block to the Riverton Bar & Grill where she was meeting Fred for lunch. She was excited to tell him about the ultrasound, and since she'd already told Jack and sent the picture to him, she felt sharing her excitement was justified. And who wouldn't be excited? Jack was here in Riverton, he had started his new job today, everything was beginning to look perfectly...perfect.

Inside, she was surprised Fred wasn't sitting in their usual booth. Odd because he had texted to say he was already there. Glancing around, she spied him perched on a stool at the bar, which was also odd. He leaned forward, elbows on the counter, engaged in an animated conversation with the young woman behind the counter, who looked suspiciously like... Rose? What was
she
doing here?

“Hi,” Emily said as she approached them.

Fred swung around, his smile wide. “Hey, you're here. I thought we could sit at the counter today.” Fred already had a cup of coffee in front of him.

“But our spot is over there,” she said, pointing to
their
booth. Emily always sat on the side facing the front window because she liked to see who was coming and going, and Fred always sat opposite her, facing the bar so he could keep an eye on news headlines and sports scores flashing across the screen of the wall-mounted television. They never sat at the counter, and Emily was less inclined than ever to switch up their routine.

Fred patted the stool next to him. Emily tried to think up a plausible excuse for not sitting there. Unable to come up with anything, she sighed and took a seat.

Rose handed her a menu. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Sure. Coffee. Decaf, please. This is a surprise. It's Rose, right?”

“Yeah. Your sister Annie knew I was looking for work, so she put in a good word for me with the owner. It's my first day.” Rose turned to the coffee machine, poured a cup from the orange-topped carafe, and set it in front of Emily. “Fresh brewed a few minutes ago.”

“Thanks.” Emily lowered her gaze to the menu. Although she could have recited every item, including prices, from memory—and she'd decided on the soup-and-salad combo even before she had arrived—she pretended to give it her full attention while she surreptitiously focused on the conversation between Fred and Rose.

“You'll like Riverton,” he said. “Especially once you get to know everyone. Right, Em? Great people, great place to live.”

“Mmm-hmm. Not a lot of exciting things for young people to do, though.”
Young people?
She couldn't believe she'd said that.
Way to make yourself sound like an old woman.

Fred gave her a quizzical look.

“Oh, I'm not looking for excitement,” Rose said. “Back in Chicago, my life was basically boring. When I wasn't at work, I mostly stayed home or hung out with a few friends.”

Emily wasn't buying it. Nothing about Rose even hinted at a cloistered kind of lifestyle, least of all her attitude, which was more big-city street kid than stuffy small-town girl, and she had the wardrobe to back it up. And now that Rose was back, Emily was once again bothered by Rose's apparent lack of identity. These days someone her age would have some kind of online presence. Rose was a mystery. And when Emily encountered a mystery, she immediately wanted to solve it.

However, today Rose had toned down her excessive use of black eyeliner and mascara. Her short black hair was tucked neatly behind her ears, the long, purple-streaked bangs were swept to one side, and her oversize silver hoop earrings swung every time she moved. She wore a pair of black jeans that made her look superskinny, a short-sleeved white top and a pink, black and white print scarf that Emily recognized as Annie's. Was Rose back at the B & B? And what was her sister thinking? Helping this girl get a job here, lending her clothes. Unless Rose had helped herself to the scarf without bothering to ask.

Emily interrupted her own thoughts. Her instincts told her Rose was not to be trusted, but there was nothing to suggest the young woman was a thief. And why would she steal a scarf and then wear it in public, in a place where Annie might show up in person, given that she had helped Rose get the job?

“What about a boyfriend?” Fred asked.

And it was Emily's turn to fire a giant, silent question mark in his direction.

Rose's pale skin turned pink. She shook her head.

Fred smiled.

Seriously?
Seriously?
He was flirting with Rose. Emily wanted to smack him. What was he thinking? Not only was this young woman not the least bit suitable for him, she wasn't likely to be in town for long.

It's none of your business.

But it was her business. Fred was her best friend, and she didn't want to see him get hurt. Yes, he deserved to have someone special in his life, but Rose was not that person.

“So, Rose,” Emily said. “It's Rose Danvers, right? Where were you working before you left Chicago?”

A cup and saucer rattled in Rose's hand.

Fred's eyebrows drew together. “Danvers? Didn't you say your last name is Daniels?”

She nodded. “That's right.”

“Oh,” Emily said. “My apologies. I was sure Annie told me it was Danvers. Maybe she was confused.” As if that could ever happen. “Or I might have misunderstood.”

Rose shrugged, and Emily guessed it was an attempt to look nonchalant.

You're not fooling me, Rose Daniels. Or whatever your name is.

Emily thought back to the conversation she'd had with Annie right after Rose had checked into the B & B. She had not misunderstood what Annie told her, and she was equally sure Annie had not confused Daniels with Danvers. She had her guests fill in a registration form when they checked in. However, Annie had admitted she hadn't asked for ID to verify the name on the form. Normally, she would compare the name on the form with the one on the credit card. But Rose had paid cash, claiming she didn't have one.

Emily watched the young woman closely as she smiled at Fred and managed to brush his hand with hers when she picked up his cup to refill it.

Oh, please. Bad enough Fred was showing a complete lack of judgment by flirting with her. Now she was flirting back. Ridiculous.

Right after lunch—if Rose stopped flirting long enough to take their order—Emily would go back to her apartment and run an internet search for this new name. Rose Daniels was hiding something, and Emily had a hunch whatever that something was, it would turn up. Then she would call Jack at the police station and fill him in on the latest intrigue.

The door opened and the two stock boys from Henderson's Hardware came in and settled into the booth that Emily liked to think of as hers and Fred's.

“Be right back,” Rose said.

Emily waited until Rose was at the booth, handing out menus and reciting the lunch specials—which she still hadn't mentioned to her and Fred—before she leaned toward her friend.

“What's going on here?” she hissed.

Fred was still grinning. “I think I might ask her out.”

“Are you out of your mind? Look at her.”

“I think she's kind of cute?”

Cute? “I guess, if you go for the vampire look.”

Fred shook his head. “You're jealous.”

“That's ridiculous. You can go out with anyone you choose, and I'll be very happy for you, but Rose? There's something weird about that girl.”

“Weird?” Fred shook his head at her.

“There is.” She ran through her list, starting with her random appearance at a small-town B & B and ending with this new piece of evidence, the mix-up over her name. “None of it adds up.”

“Are you sure you're not trying to cook up another mystery for your blog?”

Cook up a mystery
? “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You can only get so much traction with your Riverton bandit posts. If no one catches this guy, and soon, then your readers will lose interest.”

“You know perfectly well I am not making up those stories, and for your information, I have no intention of blogging about Rose Danvers or Daniels or whatever her name is.”

“It's Daniels—she told you herself—and like you said, you or your sister must have made a mistake. Why would she lie about her name?”

Good question. Emily shrugged and glanced over her shoulder to the booth where Rose was now coyly laughing with the two young men from the hardware store. “If you're going to ask her out, you'd better be quick about it.”

Fred briefly followed her gaze and swiveled back to the bar. “Do you have to read something into everything? She's only being friendly.”

Emily patted his hand. “Right. You keep on deluding yourself. I'm going back to my place.” She stood, fished two dollars out of her wallet and dropped it on the counter.

“What about lunch?”

She shot another glance at Rose, who now appeared to be on the verge of pulling up a chair. “Yeah, good luck with that. She hasn't even taken our order. I don't think you're going to see food anytime soon.”

“Suit yourself.”

Emily hated it when she and Fred disagreed—they always ended up sounding like preteen siblings—but she wasn't backing down on this. There was something shady about Riverton's newest resident. She intended to find out what that was, and then people like Fred and Annie would have to listen to her.

Back in her apartment, she poured herself a glass of milk, opened a can of soup and slapped together a grilled cheese sandwich while the soup heated. Pretty much what she'd planned to order at the Grill, if ordering had been an option.

Emily opened her laptop on the table, and while it booted up, she ladled soup into a bowl and set it on a plate next to her sandwich. She sat down and swallowed a spoonful of soup. Then she rubbed her hands together.

“Okay, Rose Daniels from Chicago. Let's find out what secrets you're keeping.”

There were too many hits to count. The subject lines included phrases like “triple murder” and “suspect in custody.” A series of thumbnail images across the top of the page confirmed she had found the right person. Emily scanned the sources, and then, with her heart racing and her hands shaking, she clicked on an article in the
Sun-Times
.

Chicago police have discovered an unexpected link between the murders of three Chicago women, who were first thought to have been randomly selected by the alleged serial killer Jason Caruthers.

Rose Daniels was connected to the murders of three women? Emily shoved her plate aside and fixated on the screen. Tempting as it was to scroll down until she found Rose's name, she forced herself to read the article from the beginning.

Twenty-seven-year-old Caruthers, from Albany, NY, is undergoing a series of psychiatric evaluations to determine whether or not he is fit to stand trial. His lawyers have filed a plea of not guilty by reason of insanity.

Emily had heard the story on the news, read a few snippets on the wire, but they didn't run articles like this in the
Gazette
. Frankly, they totally creeped her out.

Jack Evans, lead investigator on this case, says the evidence to support a conviction is overwhelming.

Jack. Of course. This had been his last big case. He hadn't said much about it, and Emily had put it out of her mind. Besides, they had plenty of personal matters to work out. But a case like this, one that involved a woman who had recently come to Riverton, a woman about whom she had expressed concerns that he had all brushed aside? Why hadn't he said anything? What was
he
hiding? She continued reading.

The murders, committed over a three-day period, took place in different parts of the city. The first victim, a social worker with the Department of Child and Family Services, died from multiple stab wounds. Her body was discovered by a coworker in the parking lot behind their office complex.

Emily shuddered. Why her? Why this woman, who had dedicated her life to helping others? This was why Emily hated reading stories like this, and one of the reasons she hadn't wanted to work for a big city paper.

The second woman was a homemaker and a PAWS volunteer who worked part-time at a nearby library. She was stabbed multiple times. Her body was found by her husband when he returned from a full day at the office. He was never considered a suspect.

The article didn't say whether or not they had children. Emily prayed they didn't. She had skimmed past these women's names. It was less personal that way.

The third victim was a homeless woman...

Seriously?

...a homeless woman, fifty-one-year-old Scarlett Daniels, who was found in the alley next to the shelter where she had been spending the night. She died as a result of multiple stab wounds.

Scarlett
Daniels? Was this Rose's mother? What if...? No. That was a ridiculous thought.

But Rose was here in Riverton. Why? Was this more than just some bizarre coincidence?

It had to be. Jack knew about Emily's mother, and he obviously knew about Rose and Scarlett Daniels. He would have told her if there was a connection. Wouldn't he? Of course he would.

Emily tried to steady her breathing. Part of her wanted to stop reading while the other part desperately needed to know the whole story. Besides, she still hadn't found the reference to Rose, so she pressed on.

The murders initially appeared to have no motive, until Chicago PD detectives pieced together the connections. The link turned out to be Daniels's daughter, Rose, who had spent much of her life in and out of foster care. Now an adult, the daughter had befriended Caruthers, whose DNA was found at all three crime scenes.

Emily jumped to her feet, whirling in a frenzied circle, then rushed out of her kitchen and through the apartment to the bathroom. She felt sick, as though she might retch her guts out, but there was nothing in her stomach but that spoonful of soup. She splashed cold water on her face, struggled to draw a breath, and another. She was suffocating, having a heart attack, dying maybe.