Profiled (16 page)

Not what he’d expected, but he didn’t question the information he’d been given when he saw Lexie’s car, with its WGXA decal in the back window, parked nearby.

After pulling his Grand Cherokee in the next spot, he parked and got out.

Okay. He’d found her. Now what? What did an assisted living home have to do with the killer? Because John knew Lexie wouldn’t have come down here the day after he struck without a tie-in.

When he’d first started this search, he expected to find Lexie on the trail of a prime suspect. However, he didn’t foresee the killer hanging out in Valdosta, and he didn’t anticipate finding him at an assisted living facility. But maybe Lexie had identified a victim’s family member inside. There could be several tie-ins to the case, reasons causing her to change her plans today and head to Valdosta, but John saw none at all for her to put herself in danger or keep John out of the loop.

She
said
she trusted him. Then why didn’t she tell him about her lead? He’d ask her, as soon as he found her.

He crossed the parking lot and started up the stone pathway leading to the porch.

“Who’re you here to see?” The woman’s voice echoed through the porch shadows.

John turned toward the sound and made out the petite figure of an elderly woman, her long gray braid hanging over one shoulder as she sat in a rocker on the far end of the porch. He couldn’t make out her facial features. Even with the moonlight trimming the edge of the wooden planks on the porch, the majority of her face and body were hidden in the shadows of the gingerbread-embellished eaves. However, after blinking to focus, he saw the whites of her eyes, two circular pricks in the jet-black recesses of the porch.

“I asked you a question.”

“Lexie McCain.” He saw no reason to lie.

“Whatchu want with Miss Lexie?”

“I need to ask her some questions.”

“She ain’t broke no laws.”

John glanced down to see the shield at his waist glistening in the moonlight. “No, she hasn’t. But I need to see her and make sure she’s safe.”

“Well, why didn’t ya say so? She’s inside, in Nicholas’ room, but you better check with Jackie first. And you gotta ring the bell to get in. It’s dark now, ya know.”

“Will do.” John nodded toward the tiny shadow, then turned to press the button beside the door. The familiar eight notes of the Westminster chime sounded from within the home, then footsteps echoed and the door creaked opened.

“Hello,” The woman smoothed the front of her dress. “I’m Jacqueline Murrell. May I help you?”

“He’s looking for Lexie!” the woman in the rocker yelled.

Ms. Murrell sighed, smiled then stepped forward. “Just a minute, please.” She looked toward the tiny lady on the porch. “Agatha, aren’t you ready to come in now? Your dessert is ready.”

“Nope. The moon’s bright, and I’m enjoying it. And don’t call me that name.”

“But that’s your name. And it’s a beautiful name, the name of one of my favorite authors, in fact.”

“Is your name Jacqueline or Jackie?”

“Well, it’s both. Jacqueline is my given name; Jackie is my nickname.”

“Right. Well, I want to be Aggie today. I’ll be Agatha again tomorrow.”

“Okay, Aggie,” Ms. Murrell sounded exasperated, “do you want to come in and have your dessert?”

“Not yet.”

“Fine. Tell you what, I think Donovan wanted to come out and enjoy the moon too. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good. Sounds real good.”

“Okay. I’ll tell him you’d like for him to join you.”

“All right.”

Jacqueline Murrell turned back toward John, and her jaw dropped. She stared at his shield. “Is something wrong?”

“No, ma’am, I’m a detective with Macon’s police department, and I’m working with Ms. McCain on one of her stories. I was concerned she may have put herself in danger by following one of her leads, so I came down to check things out.”

Her brows lifted, head tilted to the side as she examined John. “Personally? Could’ve called her to see what she was doing, couldn’t you?”

However, he did have an answer for her question. “She hasn’t answered her cell phone today.”

“Oh. Well, she’s fine, I can assure you.”

“No offense, Ms. Murrell, but I’d like to see that for myself.”

“Yeah,” she didn’t hold back a knowing grin, “I kind of figured you did. Come on and follow me. I’ll have to ask her if she wants to see you, though. If she says no, I’m afraid you’ll have to leave.”

John fought the urge to laugh. The woman weighed all of a hundred and twenty pounds, yet she had no qualms with informing a two hundred pound homicide detective that she was the boss under this roof. He liked her spunk.

“Hold on a minute.” She put her palm against his chest, then stepped in a side room. “Donovan, Agatha’s on the front porch and wanting company.”

“On my way,” a male voice responded. “Who was at the door?”

“A detective from Macon. He’s here to see Lexie. Says he’s helping her on a story.”

Within two seconds, a tall elderly gentleman, his glasses pushed on top of his head to nestle within a sea of white waves, stood in front of John. “You’re here to see Lexie?”

“I thought she might be chasing a lead on a story and was concerned for her safety.” John wondered if the half-truth sounded more believable to the older man than it did to John.

Evidently not.

“Could’ve called the police down here to check on her, if you thought she was in trouble,” Donovan pointed out. “I mean, it’d have saved you the trip, plus they could’ve gotten to her quicker, don’t you think?
If
she was in trouble and all.”

Why did John feel like this couple had him in the crosshairs and were ready to fire? “Yeah, I could have.”

“But he wanted to see her himself, to make sure she was okay. Isn’t that right?” Jackie fingered the silver bun on the back of her head, shot a knowing look to Donovan, and then turned her attention back to John.

“That’s right.”

Donovan’s weathered face cracked into a smile. “Well, it’s about time somebody watched out for that girl. She’s done put herself in danger one time too many, if you ask me, chasing all those stories. I’m guessing she’s after that killer they’ve been talking about in Macon, isn’t she? Trying to solve the crime herself again, huh?”

“I’m hoping she’s not trying to solve it on her own. That’s why I’m here. But she is the lead news correspondent for the story.”

“Don’t surprise me.” The old man pulled his glasses down and settled them on the bridge of his nose. “You gonna be able to keep her safe? She got too dang close to that killer in Atlanta. Ticked him off real good, if I remember right. He sure enough didn’t like her interviews with that poor lady he hurt.”

“Lexie doesn’t realize we follow her stories.” Jackie lowered her voice to a whisper. “But we can’t help it. We care about her. She’s a dear soul.”

“She’s not chasing any killer here, though,” Donovan added.

“She’s not?” If she wasn’t working on the story, why had she come?

“No,” Jackie shook her head, “But I’ll let her tell you. Come on.”

Donovan turned toward the door. “I’ll head out to check on Agatha. Nice to meet you, Detective—”

“Tucker, John Tucker.”

Donovan nodded, extended his hand and shook John’s. “Nice to meet you, Detective Tucker, especially if you’re going to watch out for Lexie.” He turned and crossed the foyer then went outside to see Agatha.

“This way.” Jackie started down the hall.

They passed a large room with a rock fireplace in its center. Three women and one man sat around a big screen television watching Wheel of Fortune and guessing the current puzzle. Then they passed several additional rooms, larger than college dorms but smaller than apartments, branching off both sides of the hall.

A few residents sat in their private domains reading newspapers, watching television or resting. Other rooms were vacant. He suspected those belonged to some of the Wheel of Fortune enthusiasts in the family room.

The home smelled of spiced apples, furniture polish and vanilla. John had visited quite a few assisted living homes before his grandparents passed away, but none as elegant as Murrell’s.

“Nice place.”

“We like it. Our residents are happy here.” Jackie stopped by the only closed door in the hall. “Lexie’s inside. I’ll ask her if she’d like to see you.”

“All right.” John knew this would be—interesting. It wasn’t as if he could say he’d been passing through. Two and a half hours from home wasn’t a passing visit. Even so, he’d made the trip to see Lexie, and he wouldn’t leave until he accomplished that goal.

Lexie’s eyes burned, irritated and dry from lack of sleep. But she
had
slept last night. In fact, she’d achieved the most peaceful rest she’d had in a long time…with John Tucker outside her home.

But one good night’s sleep wasn’t enough to make up for the three nights she’d barely closed her eyes. The three nights since Cami Talton’s body had been found, signaling the killer’s return.

Her grandfather mumbled in his sleep, shifted in the covers and blew out a thick puff of air. She cringed. She hated that sound, those sudden exhalations of the elderly when they slept. The same sound she heard so many years ago, pronouncing death.

Lexie shook the memory away. How would she calm down enough to rest tonight if she kept remembering the pain? And she needed to sleep in order to think, to help the task force find the killer before he murdered again.

“No,” Granddaddy whispered, frowning in his sleep.

Was he dreaming? Or remembering? As if she didn’t know. How she wished she could tell him that they’d put the monster away for good.

But they hadn’t.

He’d fallen asleep at 7:30 and would wake bright and early at 6:00 a.m. It’d been his schedule for as long as she could remember, early to bed, early to rise. Tonight the ritual would prove to her favor, because his pre-dawn awakening would allow her the chance to see him again in the morning before she drove back to Macon.

She looked at the clock. 8:15. Soon she’d leave and attempt to sleep in the guesthouse, a side cottage with four small rooms for those staying overnight to be near their family members. Lexie stayed there often. The cozy guesthouse provided everything she needed for a good night’s rest. However, she knew it wouldn’t. Not tonight, and not until they caught the killer.

But she
had
slept last night, which still baffled her. She’d gone so many years taking care of her fears on her own; she hadn’t needed a man, hadn’t needed anyone. But she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t felt safer with John Tucker standing guard.

Had he felt the same? Had he experienced the connection that’d consumed her thoughts all day, making her wonder if perhaps she could feel safe enough to give her heart to a man again?

She’d tried with Phillip and had succeeded for a while. But then the old fears returned, and she turned away from her husband, hadn’t been able to let him touch her because of the memories. The nightmares. The never-ending echoes of her screams.

But she hadn’t thought of any of that last night with John.

Why did that realization make her feel so scared?

She decided to stop analyzing her response to the man until morning. Tonight she’d concentrate on learning how to sleep without him nearby.

Standing, she moved to the bed, kissed her grandfather’s cheek, then turned to leave. She’d almost reached the door when she heard the faint tapping from the other side. Jackie’s familiar soft knock.

Lexie opened the door and saw Jackie smiling. Then her gaze moved to the man who looked even bigger, even more invincible, when standing behind the petite older woman.

“You have a visitor. The detective said he’s working with you on a story and wanted to make sure you were safe.”

Lexie stepped into the hall and eased the door closed behind her, while her mind raced. How had he found her here? Angel wouldn’t have given him this address unless something had happened. Unless something was very, very wrong. Plus, he didn’t even know about their connection. He didn’t know the man in the room behind her was her grandfather...and Angel’s.

“John, what happened? Did they find him? Or did he find someone else? It isn’t time yet.” She rushed through the words in an effort to hear his response. “What happened?”

“Everything’s fine. Ms. Murrell told the truth; I wanted to make sure you’re okay. You didn’t say anything about leaving today, and I knew how determined you were to get the story right, so I thought you might have followed a lead on your own.”

Lexie blinked. “You followed me?”

“More like I found you.”

“Why?”

“Like I said, I thought you were chasing this guy on your own and could be putting yourself in danger.” He seemed to choose his words in Jackie’s presence.

Lexie processed what he didn’t say. “But why?”

Jackie cleared her throat. “Well, I need to go clean up a bit in the kitchen.”