“I’m glad we got that cleared up.” Jess grabbed her SPU handbook and stowed it. Maybe the thing hadn’t been such a waste of trees after all. She was beat. She needed a bottle of wine and a long, hot bath. Maybe not in that order. “Anything else?”
She probably should thank him for sticking up for her with Allen and the feds. Maybe not. As chief of police, that was his job.
“Just one more thing,” he said when she had about decided he was done.
“What’s that?” He’d better make it fast or she was going to expire from sheer exhaustion and total starvation. She couldn’t even remember if she had eaten today.
“If you ever walk into an unknown situation again the way you did this afternoon, I will put you on administrative leave.”
A frown wiggled its way across her forehead. She scrubbed at it with the back of her hand. The protector thing was back. What do you know? She wondered if he had conversations like this with Black or Hogan. “Would that be paid leave? Like a vacation?”
“I am dead serious, Jess,” he growled. “If you don’t care that you could have gotten yourself killed, what about your detective? I’m certain you’re aware that Harper has a son.”
“I had no intention of Harper going in there with me. But he insisted. In fact, he disobeyed a direct order.” She shrugged. “Besides, I had a handle on the situation.” She couldn’t exactly tell him that one of Harper’s contacts had told her about the ongoing operation across the street, which basically meant dozens of law enforcement personnel were watching and only yards away.
“How is it that you had such a good handle on the situation?” He folded his arms over his broad chest and waited for her answer. Judging by the expression on his face, whatever she said wasn’t going to satisfy him.
“I have my resources. My LA contact told me Nina was Lopez’s sister and that she was the father’s princess. I knew then why the whole thing with Simmons had been kept on the down low on the street. Salvadore Lopez is terrified his father will find out little sister ran off with another guy. Big brother was supposed to be making sure that didn’t happen again. He has no more idea where his sister and DeShawn are than we do. I needed verification of that and to make him understand what I would do if he hurt DeShawn.”
Burnett shook his head, anger now glittering in his eyes. “And all that knowledge was your safety net? You took that kind of risk just to confirm that Simmons might still be alive?” He took a breath, probably in an attempt to regain that composure. “I want your word right now that it won’t happen again. If I cannot trust you to make rational decisions about how to proceed in a dangerous situation, then maybe I made a mistake offering you this position.”
Her belly clenched at that below-the-belt blow. There it was. That regret Black had suggested Burnett might eventually feel. “I can’t give you my word on that and you know it.” She did what she had to do and she would do it again.
“Why the hell not?” He threw his hands up in exasperation. “Why do you have to make this so damned difficult? The safety of every member of my staff is my responsibility. It feels like you left the relative safety of your position with the FBI and came here to see how fast you could get yourself killed.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and lowered his voice a few decibels. “I need you to be more careful, Jess.”
That last part came straight from Dan, not from the chief of police. He was worried about her. And she wasn’t making his job easy. Every cop, all the way up the chain of command, was watching the dynamics of their relationship, and she understood this. Maybe she was punishing him somehow by refusing to conform to the expectations of others. Maybe it was her way of keeping some amount of emotional distance.
Wesley had sworn that was what she did to him. She married him and then did everything possible to push him away. He called her a coward—afraid of falling too far.
Why hadn’t hearing his voice today evoked even one hint of what she felt just standing here being lectured by Burnett?
Even knowing how Burnett made her feel, she didn’t trust herself or him… not the way she needed to. The idea that Annette and her husband were having trouble flashed through her mind. Was that the kind of woman he preferred? One who wouldn’t give him so much grief? Or was Jess just looking for a way to stay out of the truly dangerous territory?
Maybe she had let her emotions and determination override her logic today. But that happened sometimes. The need to do the right thing outweighed the self-preservation instinct. That territory was familiar… it was
this
kind of territory that terrified her.
“This is what I can promise,” she offered. “I will never walk into a situation like that without knowing what I’m up against and the odds of pulling it off without casualties. You have my word on that.” Which was exactly what she had done today. A strategic move with a small measure of risk and the potential for a huge payoff.
He stared at her as if he expected more. Jesus Christ, what did the man want from her?
“Are we good now?” she ventured.
Suspicion clouded his eyes. “You never mentioned your contact in LA. That must be one hell of a contact to have all the information you needed just like that.” He snapped his fingers.
Jess flinched. Her pulse fluttered at the rigid lines that now defined his face. “He’s head of the bureau’s West Coast gang initiative.”
Burnett nodded. “Captain Allen mentioned the guy. A Supervisory Special Agent
Wesley
Duvall. Wait, I know that name. I think that’s your ex-husband.”
Jess boosted a smile into place. “It’s a small world. Seems like exes are bound to come back into our lives.” She gave him a little salute. “Good night, Burnett.”
She absolutely would not stand here and justify calling her ex for information on a case when
his
ex was crying on his shoulder every time he turned around.
Walking out without another word carried far less impact considering she was barefoot.
Just like Darcy Chandler when she flew over that banister.
10:18 p.m.
Nina was drinking with those men. She even danced around the room and laughed when they leered at her and made remarks DeShawn didn’t understand.
He didn’t like this. It was wrong.
Watching this made him sick. What was wrong with her? Was she so afraid of her brother that she thought she needed these guys to protect them? DeShawn wanted to protect her. He wanted to take her far away from here where her scumbag brother would never find them.
As he looked away, something on the television caught his attention. He stared at the muted screen. For several seconds the images didn’t make sense. Then Jerome’s face appeared front and center.
DeShawn rushed to the table where the TV sat and grabbed the remote. He pumped up the volume. The reporter was talking about multiple homicides in Pelham. This couldn’t be right. Why would Salvadore kill Jerome? He didn’t know anything. No one did.
DeShawn’s heart slid down to his feet as he listened to the details of the gruesome gang killings. Jerome was dead. Murdered by a bunch of thugs. Four others were dead, decapitated. Their faces appeared on the screen. His heart nearly stopped altogether then. Those were the four men who had brought him and Nina here.
They’d left and hadn’t come back. The six in the other room had filtered in throughout the day and evening. He didn’t know any of them but Nina seemed to know them all.
Then that lady cop, Jess Harris, was on the screen again. A picture of DeShawn appeared next to her. Ms. Harris was working overtime to find him and his female companion, the reporter said. A drawing that looked a lot like Nina came on the screen next. There was a big reward for anyone with information on either of them.
Why didn’t the news show anything about his grandparents? Were they okay? If Salvadore could hurt Jerome, he could definitely hurt DeShawn’s folks. Wouldn’t the police be protecting them?
But they hadn’t protected Jerome.
DeShawn knew better than to believe for a second that the cops would care about a handful of black folks who lived in the hood.
He needed to check on his grandparents.
He needed to get out of here.
“Hey, baby, what you doing?”
Nina sounded drunk. Her voice was thick. He wanted to rant at her but the others were listening and watching. He didn’t like this. Drinking in excess was bad.
“Jerome is dead,” he muttered. “So are those men who brought us here.”
She hugged herself around him. “I’m sorry about Jerome. He was a nice guy.”
“Yeah, he was,” DeShawn snapped. “And now he’s dead because of your brother and guys like that.” He stabbed a finger at the thugs in the other room.
“Look!” Nina pointed to the TV. “It’s that cop lady.” She beamed a bleary-eyed smile up at him. “She got in my brother’s face today. I mean, she was fearless, Jose said. She is so perfect for what comes next.”
DeShawn pulled away from her. “What’s going on, Nina? I thought we were trying to escape your brother, not hang around to watch him kill our friends. He could hurt my grandparents!” Fear wrapped tighter and tighter around his chest. Why didn’t she see?
“Shawney, listen to me.” She took his face in her hands. “I told you running away wouldn’t help. I’ll never be free until Salvadore is dead. This is a war. We have to be strong. So many of his people are on our side. See.” She waved to the guys in the other room. “And there are many more.”
DeShawn shook his head. “I don’t understand. What’re you saying?”
“I’m saying Salvadore is going down and that cop lady is going to help us make it happen.”
That was crazy talk. “That cop is not going to do anything for you! Listen to what you’re saying, Nina! The only thing she’ll do if she catches us is put us in jail for all the trouble we’ve caused.”
“She will help us,” Nina insisted. “She will do it to save
you
.”
Mountain Brook, Friday, July 30, 10:30 a.m.
“Did Detective Wells mention what this meeting was about?” Harper inquired.
Jess wondered how closely Harper and Wells’s relationship mirrored hers and Burnett’s. With the emotional balancing act between personal and professional, any sort of relationship, even friendship, was difficult. Did they play the same tug-of-war with boundaries? Were they perfect for each other but destined to be apart for one reason or another? Did their respective pasts and all the baggage—and exes—they’d acquired over the years keep them from moving forward?
No, that would be her and Dan.
He’d sent her a good-night text just before midnight. For about three seconds in his office she had sensed that he was jealous of the idea that she had contacted Wesley. Which made about as much sense as her being jealous of Annette.
God, they were screwed up.
Jerome Frazier and DeShawn Simmons had haunted her dreams when she’d finally gotten to sleep last night. She needed to find that kid. It was too late for his friend and she intended to see that Lopez paid for that somehow.
First thing this morning she and Harper had sat in on the search team commander’s briefing on the nothing they had found despite their hard work and a rundown of the hotline tips, which were growing fewer and fewer with each passing day. The reward had prompted an initial rush but the response had slowed considerably now. Damn, but they needed a break.
She’d also accompanied Harper to the nine o’clock meeting with Burnett. Harper had gotten basically the same don’t-do-that-again talk she’d been given last night.
“Wells said she had information about the Chandler case,” Jess finally said in answer to Harper’s question.
He nodded. “You mean the case that’s not our case.”
“Exactly,” Jess confirmed. Their investigation, beyond the ongoing search, was at a standstill and it was driving her nuts. As much as she wanted to help DeShawn, there was nothing else she could do until Lopez made a move or a lead came their way.
Later today Darcy Chandler would be laid to rest. Afterward there was a celebration at her home for close friends and family. The grandmother had invited Jess. She needed to go. Mainly to watch all those dance moms, especially Dresher, and the husband. But also to take another look around that second-floor landing.
Lori breezed in through the entrance of the café. Jess waved and Lori hurried over to their table. She looked great. Rested. And, judging by the spark in her eyes, ready to get back to work—officially. And since both her personal physicians and Dr. Oden had released her, that was happening on Monday.
After the good-mornings were swapped, Lori asked, “Did you guys order?”
“Coffee.” Jess lifted her cup. She’d had two already.
“I’m starving.” Lori waved down a waiter.
Another Broken Egg was new to Jess but she was glad Lori had chosen this café. The atmosphere was relaxing and amazing smells were coming from the kitchen.
When they’d placed their orders, Jess couldn’t take it anymore. “What have you learned?”
Lori had been keeping tabs on Corrine Dresher and her daughter Katrina. She had also looked into the accidental death of Michelle Butler.
“I’ve asked Sandra Butler, the mother, if she’ll talk to you and she’s agreed.”
“You think there’s something there?”
Lori lifted her shoulders and let them fall in a noncommittal shrug. “The accident report is as clean as a whistle. No one saw anything other than a woman and two girls walking along the street. Suddenly one
stumbled
into the street in front of an oncoming car. Three days later the little girl is dead and Katrina Dresher gets her spot on the team.”
Silence settled while the waiter delivered Lori’s coffee and refilled the empty cups on the table.
“I have to tell you, ladies,” Harper said, “this cutthroat little girl dance team business is creepy.”
Jess had to agree with him.
“I was a dancer when I was a kid,” Lori piped up. “Not all the dancers and their moms are insane.”
Harper chuckled and Jess was almost envious of the look that passed between the two. If Lori didn’t watch out, she was going to find herself married to this man. Not that sharing a life with Harper would be a bad thing by any stretch of the imagination. But Lori was fiercely independent. Jess wondered if last week’s near-death experience had her rethinking all that she believed about herself and life.