Obsession (6 page)

~*~

10:35 p.m.

Burnett parked his SUV in front of the lavish entry of his parents’ home and shut off the engine. Jess stared at the dark house and absently wondered if Dan senior and Katherine, dear, queen Katherine, had any idea that their only son had lent out their home. More importantly, to whom he had lent their home. 

“I should come in with you and check the security system.”

Jess snapped to attention and snatched up her bag. “You gave me the code, I can handle it. I have a security system back home.”

She did not want him to come inside. The barrage of questions that hovered on the tip of her tongue needed answering but in her present state of mind the asking would be the problem. She needed some distance. And some sleep.

She reached for the door. He placed his hand on her arm. The feel of his palm sent a burst of heat scurrying across her skin. She really was exhausted; otherwise, she would have averted that ridiculous reaction.

“You sure you’re okay?” He shrugged. Between the landscape and security lighting she didn’t miss the worry in his expression. “You haven’t said much since we left the church.”

“I’m processing.” She moved her arm. “What about you? You haven’t said much either.”
Stop, Jess
. Taking that path right now was not a good idea.

“I guess I’m processing, too.”

“Well, then, I’ll see you in the morning.” Her fingers made it all the way to the door handle this time.

“Jess.”

Why did he have to do that? She closed her eyes for a second to clear her head before meeting his gaze. “Yes?”

“At some point, we need to clear the air. Put the past behind us once and for all.” He exhaled a breath that was as burdened with multiple concerns as it was weary from days of intense focus. “I don’t want ten years to go by before we speak or see each other again after this case is solved.” He squeezed her arm. She flinched, hoped he didn’t notice. “I’d like to be friends.”

Jess typically turned off her analytical side at times like this. It really wasn’t fair for her to be in assessment mode all the time. Especially among friends. But then, she and Dan Burnett weren’t friends, not in the true sense of the word. “Fine.”

Another big sigh escaped him. “I know what fine means.” He waylaid her again, this time curling his long fingers around her forearm.

Tension raced through her body, bumped her pulse rate into a faster rhythm. Was she never going to be able to get out of this damned vehicle?

“What does fine mean to you,
Dan
.” He’d done it first, no reason she couldn’t say his name to his face, too.

“It means,” he said, unmistakably annoyed now, “that it’s not fine at all. You’re just going to let this
thing
stand between us like a brick wall forever.”

“Forever is a long time, chief. I dare say that’s one timeline we won’t have to worry about.” Unlike the one she’d drawn on that case board this evening.

“Why do you want to leave it this way?” He threw his hands up, hit the dome light of his fancy SUV. 

A Mercedes. The man drove a
Mercedes
for crying out loud. He certainly hadn’t ten years ago. He’d driven a Chevy almost as old then as her Audi was now—which she had purchased pre-owned and only after talking the salesman out of his commission.

When had police chiefs started making that kind of money? He lived in Mountain Brook. She didn’t have to know the exact address. The neighborhood said it all. Big house, big money. Or maybe Katherine and Daniel senior bought the Mercedes for him. After all, who wanted an old worn out Chevy rolling up in
this
driveway?

“You’ll leave,” he accused before she could gather her defense, “just like you did last time. And forget everyone back here exists.”

The unwarranted exasperation in his tone
almost
deferred the realization that she had nothing to go back to. Her career with the Bureau was over for all intents and purposes. The so-called relationship with the man she’d almost trusted was over. Even as the thought breached her already compromised defenses the band around her finger burned her skin. 

It was over. All of it.

“Fine,” he muttered. “You’re right.
Fine
.”

She jumped at the harshly uttered words. She’d gotten lost in her own worries and he’d assumed she had nothing to say to his comment. Truth was, she doubted he would want to hear what she actually had to say.

Breathe, Jess
.

“We will talk. I swear. This case has me distracted and that’s as it should be.” She gambled and reached over to pat his hand. It wasn’t her smoothest move on record but it seemed to satisfy him. “First we have to find these girls.”

He nodded without meeting her gaze. “You’re right. I apologize for dredging up the past. This has been a tough evening.”

Because you saw your ex-wife with her new/old husband?
Jess held her tongue. That he didn’t look at her as he said the words related loads about just how much he was holding back himself.

“It has,” she agreed. The conversation with Lorraine Parsons rushed to the front of the long parade of thoughts and theories cluttering her brain. “We have an early day tomorrow.” Calm, collected. Good.
Now say goodnight and get the hell out of this vehicle
.

“Wells and Harper made all the appointments after the service so we’re set for the family interviews,” he said, shifting the subject back to business.

“Good. We can convene the team at seven and go from there.” Her fingers curled around the door handle. “Goodnight.”

“G’night.”

She emerged into the humid night air and shut the door before he could toss something else at her. He started the engine as she climbed the steps and relief finally washed over her. Thank God this day was over. Cramming her hand into her bag she tried to remember where she’d put the house key he’d given her.

Her cell phone blasted that
old phone
clang that she disliked immensely but that differentiated her ring tone from all the other chirps and melodies.

“Damn.” Where was that stupid phone?

Dress hiked up her thighs and squatting in a manner that would no doubt appall Katherine Burnett, Jess shoved around the stuff at the bottom of her bag. Two more blasts and she still hadn’t laid her hand on the damned thing. The Mercedes hadn’t moved. Why the hell hadn’t he driven away? She’d said goodnight. What else did he want?

The image of tangled sheets and hot, damp skin flickered in her fatigued brain. “Idiot,” she muttered.

“Jess!”

Dan was out of the SUV and yelling at her over the hood. “I’m fine,” she assured him without looking. “Just trying to find my phone.”
And the key you gave me!

“Get back in the car, Jess.”

Thought, sound, even the ability to breathe faded into the background. Jess couldn’t see his eyes from her position near the front door but she didn’t need to. She knew every nuance of his voice by heart.
This was bad
.

“Reanne Parsons’ father is dead. His wife found him when she got home tonight.”

…
now we’re all being punished
. 

Chapter Five

Tuscaloosa, Thursday, July 15
^th
, 2:18 a.m.

Chief Patterson had been trying to interview Lorraine Parsons for the past two hours but she kept grabbing her minister’s hands and bursting into fervent prayer with her spiritual leader adding his own brand of passionate harmony. Patterson had finally sequestered her to the kitchen away from the activities in the bedroom and leaving the minister waiting in the living room. Dan had supervised the necessary duties related to the victim.

He’d sat behind a desk for so long he’d almost forgotten what it was like in the field.
Damn
. This was one aspect of police work that never got any easier.

Bob Koerber, the Tuscaloosa County coroner, and his assistant had suited the victim in a body bag and loaded him onto a gurney for removal from the premises.

“We’ll get on the autopsy right away.” Bob removed his Crimson Tide cap and scratched his forehead. “The wife isn’t going to be happy.” He made a face that broadcasted his mixed feelings on the subject. “She’s one who doesn’t believe in going to the doctor much less having some medical examiner slice and dice her kin.”

“I’m not certain we have a choice here, Koerber.” Dan shook his head. Determining the exact cause of death was essential. No matter what it looked like, they had to be certain. Even if Parsons had committed suicide, if the act had any connection whatsoever to the missing girls, they needed to know ASAP.

Jess had followed the evidence techs around the room, scrutinizing every step taken. No sooner than Bob had turned his back to confer with Dan, she had opened the body bag to have a final look at the victim.

The stool and rope Parsons used to hang himself from the bedroom light fixture, not to mention the note he’d left behind, made the situation appear relatively clear, if not the motive. Dan doubted the meticulous work by the techs would reveal anything useful.

There was no sign of forced entry. No indication of a struggle. The bedroom, as well as the rest of the house, was pristine. Rigidly so. Perfect order. Not a single item out of place. The furnishings were Spartan, to say the least. Only one small television in the living room. The channel had been set on a local station when the uniformed officers arrived. Still was. Someone had muted the volume.

Other than the numerous crosses and the pictures depicting Christ and other angels, there were few interruptions in the flow of white walls throughout the house. He supposed that one explanation was the devastating tornadoes back in the spring. Most personal belongings, including family photos, had been lost according to Patterson. 

“Well, we gotta do what we gotta do.” Koerber pretended to ignore Jess.

“I appreciate you putting a rush on this.” Dan understood that his appreciation wouldn’t fully cover the blow back Koerber would have to deal with. The media would have a field day with every angle. A dozen news crews were already camped outside on the street. Patterson had insisted he would make a statement to the press when the time was right. Since this was his jurisdiction, Dan had no problem with staying out of the limelight. He got more than his share back home.

“We’ll be on our way then.” Koerber hitched his head toward the door and to his assistant tossed, “Let’s load up.”

His announcement prompted Jess to step back, giving the assistant an opportunity to secure the body once more.

The wheels squeaked as the gurney was guided through the door and out of the room. The sound drove home the point that a man was dead. A man who, apparently, could not bear the burden of having lost his daughter. Jesus Christ, Dan had to find these kids. Parsons’ note had been a mere two words.
I’m sorry
. His wife had confirmed his handwriting.

The cop in Dan was stuck on the
sorry
issue. Sorry that he hadn’t protected his daughter? Sorry that he was the reason she’d fled—if that turned out to be the case? Or sorry that he was the one responsible for her disappearance? And why now? That his daughter could be found alive was not completely outside the realm of possibility. There was still hope. Maybe waiting to learn her fate had been too much.

Exhaustion clawing at him, Dan rubbed at his raw eyes. There were questions that needed to be asked and he wasn’t sure Patterson was the man to get the job done. He was too close to this family.

Like Dan had any room to talk. Andrea wasn’t his daughter but they had grown close during his one-year marriage to her mother. Faulting Patterson would make him a hypocrite. When Jess learned that piece of information, she would accuse him of jeopardizing the case. He’d have to tell her soon or risk her finding out from another source. 

He surveyed the room. Speaking of which, where was she? He checked the closet and the small en suite bath. No Jess. He wouldn’t put it past her to barge into the kitchen and start asking questions she knew as well as Dan did that Patterson wouldn’t straight up ask. Since Dan hadn’t heard any bellowing from Patterson, he assumed Jess hadn’t made it that far yet. With his luck she would be grilling the minister.

“We’re finished here, sir,” one of the techs announced.

Dan nodded. “Let me know as soon as you process the prints.”

There was little else to process. If they learned anything beyond the likelihood of suicide, it would be gleaned from the body. Even that was doubtful, unless drugs were involved. Since there had been no signs of a struggle or foul play anywhere in the house or on the body and Mrs. Parsons insisted the door was locked, lights out, when she arrived home, this tragedy might very well be nothing more than that. A
tragedy
.

Dan followed the techs into the narrow hall that divided this end of the modest ranch house. The door to Reanne’s bedroom stood ajar, light crept through the narrow crack between the plain flat panel door and the frame. He paused to check it out. The room had been gone over three times since the girl disappeared. Jess may have wanted to see it for herself. Who was he kidding? Of course she would.

He eased the door open and stalled. Jess had stretched out on Reanne’s bed. He closed the door to prevent anyone who walked by from seeing her. “What’re you doing?”

“Look around.” She waved one arm. “This is the most generic room I’ve ever seen. How could a nineteen-year-old girl live here?”

“As true as that is,” he walked to the bedside and extended his hand to pull her up “this is where she lives and we’ve gone over every inch of this room multiple times. There’s nothing here except her clothes and a couple of dolls.”

The carpet had been removed to make sure there wasn’t anything beneath. The ductwork leading from the heating and cooling system to the room had been examined. The bed had been taken apart, as had the dresser and chest of drawers. Even the two dolls her mother stated Reanne had kept since she was a baby had been thoroughly inspected.