Revenge (9 page)

Lori let off the accelerator and then eased down on the brakes. Tires squealed in protest but the Mustang came to a smooth stop in the middle of the road.

The dark sedan careened to a stop far enough behind them that making out the driver’s face was impossible. Jess turned all the way around in her seat to stare at him. She wanted him to know he was caught.

He did nothing. Just sat there. A horn blew as a minivan drove around.

‘Well, aren’t you just full of yourself,’ Jess muttered.

‘What now?’

‘Start backing up. He won’t have any choice then.’

The instant the Mustang was in reverse and the backup lights flashed a warning, the driver of the other car backed up, then spun around and raced off in the direction they’d come.

Jess committed the first three numbers of his California license plate to memory but that’s all she got. ‘What’re you doing so far from home, Mr Corolla?’ She turned and settled back into her seat.

‘You want me to follow him?’

‘That won’t be necessary. If he has something to say, he’ll find us again.’

‘Home or the office?’

Her Audi was at the lab. ‘Do you mind dropping me at my place?’

‘No problem. So what’s the deal with Corlew?’ She glanced at Jess. ‘You two looked pretty tight in there.’

Jess had wondered when Lori would get around to that question. ‘We went to high school together.’

‘Was he pre-Burnett?’

‘I knew Corlew first, if that’s what you mean. He and Burnett were mortal enemies. Their football rivalry was legendary. Burnett was the rich kid from the right side of the tracks and Corlew was his opposite in every way.’ Except that they were both devastatingly handsome and too sexy for any female’s good. That part she would just keep to herself.

‘You and Corlew had a thing?’

Jess considered how to put the answer. ‘We had a
moment
. That moment is dead and gone. I had known Corlew for years and I can’t deny having fantasies about him. Any girl breathing at the time would have admitted the same. But he never paid any attention to me until Burnett and I became an item. Then he wanted to take what belonged to Burnett.’ As young as she’d been, she hadn’t been stupid. ‘It wasn’t really about me. It was the rivalry between those two.’

‘But you had a moment,’ Lori reminded her.

‘The night before the homecoming game of our senior year, I was angry at Burnett for something. We were always fighting and then making up.’

‘Does that ever stop?’ Lori sent her a look. ‘I mean, really, do you ever outgrow that need to best each other?’

Jess wasn’t so sure she could give Lori an answer she wanted to hear. ‘I don’t know. I’m still waiting for that to happen.’

Lori groaned. ‘So you were mad at Burnett,’ she prompted.

‘I guess word got around that we’d had an argument and lo and behold, who shows up at my door on his big sexy Harley?’

‘He took you for a ride.’

‘He did.’ Jess would never forget that night. The wind in her hair and the absolute terror as he raced down a long dark stretch of highway. She’d held on to him for dear life. At some point they’d ended up at one of his hangouts and he’d tried every way in the world to seduce her.

‘Earth to Jess,’ Lori teased.

‘We kissed. That’s it.’

‘Does Burnett know about that night?’

‘If he found out, he never mentioned it.’

‘The chief might need to worry,’ Lori noted. ‘I saw the way Corlew looked at you. That moment might still have a little life left in it.’

‘I don’t think so.’ Jess shook her head.

‘So you and Burnett made up after that
moment
?’

‘He climbed into my bedroom window sometime after midnight. My foster mother was out of town. Gambling in Mississippi with her old lady friends, if I recall correctly.’

Lori laughed, a rich deep, guttural sound. ‘I can’t see the chief climbing in through a bedroom window.’

‘We were young and in love. The only thing that mattered was the moment.’

They’d had other moments . . . like ten years ago when Jess had come back to Birmingham for Christmas with her sister and her family. She and Burnett had run into each other at the Publix supermarket.

They hadn’t seen each other in ten long years and somehow they’d ended up at his place . . . tearing each other’s clothes off.

Jess didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the idea that Burnett had somehow managed to invade every decade of her adult life.

Maybe it was a sign.

Chapter Nine

9911 Conroy Road, 7.55
P.M.

J
ess waved to Lori, then turned to face her garage apartment. She had to start remembering to leave a light on inside. Mr Louis had added a sensor to the outside light on her landing so that it came on at dark. Still, no matter how old she got, there was just something unnerving about going into a dark house.

This evening, though, she was too beat to work up any real misgivings. Wasn’t that always what happened with the characters in horror flicks? They were either too tired or too distracted to pay attention.

‘Just go up the stairs, Jess,’ she grumbled to herself.

‘You’re home.’

Jess jumped, made one of those silly sounds those characters in the movies she’d just been thinking about make. Her landlord stood at the corner of the garage wiping his hands on a small cloth or hand towel.

‘I didn’t mean to startle you.’ Louis gestured to the garage. ‘I was just cleaning my paint brush. But I was hoping to catch you.’

‘Well, you caught me,’ Jess assured him. She put her hand to her chest and ordered her heart to take it easy. ‘I was trying to convince myself to climb those stairs.’ When a seventy-plus-year-old man could sneak up on her like that, it was time to polish up those old basic awareness skills.

‘I painted your railing.’ He gestured to the iron railing leading up the landing outside her apartment. ‘It was looking a little weathered. We can’t have rust setting in.’

The deep bronze color did look a little browner but it was difficult to tell with dusk setting in. She was glad she hadn’t touched it.

‘I was about to have dinner. Come along, you can join me. Give yourself a rest before you have to climb those stairs.’

Jess almost cringed. She had a long hot soak and a glass of wine on her mind. ‘I couldn’t impose.’

‘It’s no imposition. Dinner is done already.’ He motioned for her to follow. ‘I insist you join me.’

How did she say no? ‘If you’re sure.’

Besides, she really needed to have that talk with him about her door. Last week she’d come home late, like now, and found him slathering a fresh coat of paint on her door. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate a well-maintained home, but she suspected there was more to that decision than the sudden urge to spruce things up. After the message she’d been left in her apartment by an intruder before her locks were changed, she had a feeling that same intruder had left her an ugly message on her door.

Maybe Louis was OCD and couldn’t bear to put things off. She’d need to make him understand that he couldn’t go cleaning up what might be connected to one of her cases.

She had a feeling he was so going to wish he hadn’t rented this place to her.

He opened the door and waited for her to go in first. She opened her mouth to thank him but the most amazing aroma short-circuited her ability to speak. The scent of cloves and paprika hung in the air.

She finally found her voice. ‘That smells amazing.’

‘Why, thank you.’ He ushered her inside.

She really should feel guilty imposing like this but he looked so excited at the prospect of having her company, and her appetite was doing somersaults at those incredible scents. She did have questions for him. The least she could do was spend a little time with a lonely old man.

And taste whatever smelled so freaking heavenly.

This was her first time in her landlord’s home. The craftsman architecture of the century-old house carried through to the interior. The living room was neat and sparsely furnished. The lack of efficient lighting left the room a little dark for Jess’s taste. She hadn’t once seen the heavy drapes open on any of the windows except the kitchen. Nothing wrong with preferring privacy.

‘I hope you’re not a vegetarian.’ He motioned for her to follow him. ‘The kitchen’s this way.’

‘No, sir,’ Jess said in response to his comment as she trailed after him. ‘No reason to ignore any food group, the way I see it.’

‘The pork’s been cooking all day.’ He pulled out a chair for her at the oak table that stood in the middle of his kitchen. ‘The sauce is a family recipe.’

Barbecue pork. Jess couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a barbecue sandwich. Or attended a cookout. She needed a life. As soon as this case was solved, she would make a concerted effort. Starting with the Baron Labor Day cookout. That was as good a beginning as any.

With a twisted ulterior motive.

She needed therapy. Serious therapy. She wondered what a shrink would say about her fascination with Burnett’s exes.

While Mr Louis readied their plates, Jess considered how to broach the subject of the paint job on her door without offending the elderly gentleman. She guessed he was about the same age as Frances. Jess didn’t have a clue whether or not he had any family here in Birmingham. As independent as she was, she understood how difficult it would be to reach his age and be alone. Proof positive that her brain was done for the day. She needed that glass of wine and long hot soak.

‘I saw on the news that the administrator of that nursing home was found murdered.’

‘Retirement home,’ she corrected. Considering those feisty widows, the Vestavia Village was definitely not a nursing home. ‘It’s more like luxury condos for those who don’t want to cook and clean for themselves.’

‘I see.’ He crossed to the table and set a plate before Jess. ‘Water? Iced tea?’

Too bad beer hadn’t been one of the offerings. She loved beer with barbecue. ‘Water would be nice.’

He delivered a glass of tap water on ice and a linen napkin for Jess before preparing his own plate. Then he sat down across the table from her and waited expectantly.

So this was awkward. Jess propped a smile into place. ‘Do you want to say grace?’

‘You may, if you’d like.’ He adjusted his eyeglasses.

She smiled. ‘Why don’t we just eat?’

‘Yes.’ He nodded. ‘Let’s eat.’

She picked up the sandwich with both hands and took a small bite. The flavors filled her senses and she moaned before she could stop herself. ‘This is delicious,’ she managed around the chewing. ‘The pork is so tender.’

‘Hours of basting.’

Louis went on and on about how he’d prepared the meat. Jess tried to listen. She really did but mostly she just ate. By the time she’d finished off the sandwich, she felt like the hog she’d eaten. ‘I am absolutely certain I’ve never had barbecue that amazing.’ She was also certain she’d never devoured anything in front of a man who watched her every move so intently unless they had either just been intimate or were about to be.

‘I’m pleased you enjoyed it.’ One of those rare smiles lit his face. ‘There’s plenty more.’

Jess held up both hands. ‘No. No. I couldn’t.’

Silence stretched a second or two too long. She couldn’t keep putting off discussing the subject of her door . . . or of the search Burnett wanted forensics to do of his property.

‘So you’re investigating that murder?’

She nodded. ‘Yes, I am.’

‘I’m certain you’ll get the bad guy.’ He cleared his throat and looked around the room as if he wasn’t sure what to say or do next.

Just ask him, Jess
. ‘The other evening when I came home, you were painting my door. Had someone written something ugly there? Maybe a message for me?’

He reached up and adjusted his glasses again. ‘What sort of message do you mean?’

There it was. The averted eyes. The monotone. Guilt. ‘I investigate some very bad crimes, Mr Louis. Sometimes the folks who commit those crimes or maybe just some who don’t like me very much get a kick out of saying or doing things they think will scare me.’

He cleared his throat again and glanced at her. ‘You mean like threatening that you’re going to die or something like that?’

So it was that kind of message was it? Her heart felt heavy at the idea. ‘Yes, that sort of message.’

Still not looking at her, he nodded. ‘It was very ugly,’ he said softly, his voice growing lower with each word. ‘
Kill the bitch
.’

A similar message had been left at the crime scene she’d worked last week. ‘I apologize that you had to see that,’ she offered. ‘And I do appreciate your trying to protect me from the unpleasantness. But the message may have provided clues to the case I was working on. I need to see any and all messages that come to me by whatever means.’

He stared at the table for a moment. Jess felt like a total jerk for scolding him. She didn’t like it at all. He’d offered her a place to live and she made him feel awkward in his own home.

‘Mr Louis, I’m sorry. I feel terrible even having to bring this up.’

He lifted his gaze to hers. Whatever he felt he’d erased it from his face. ‘Don’t apologize. You’re right. I should have asked you first. I wasn’t thinking.’ He swiped his palms across the crisp white tablecloth as if trying to smooth invisible wrinkles. ‘I was taught to respect and protect women. It’s difficult for me to see such things. But I do understand.’

Relief flooded her tense muscles but she still had one more favor to ask of him. ‘You remember on Friday my car had to be towed because someone tried breaking into it?’

He nodded but he didn’t look at her. ‘That’s very unusual. We don’t generally have break-ins in this neighborhood.’

There it was. Further proof that she’d brought nothing but trouble to his door. ‘I’m certain you don’t. We believe the person who did this was after me.’ Jess moistened her lips. ‘The forensics techs, the folks who gather evidence at crime scenes,’ she explained, ‘would really like to have a look around if that would be okay with you.’

He stared at the tabletop some more, smoothing another wrinkle only he could see. ‘I suppose that would be all right.’

Jess wanted the floor to crack open so she could disappear. ‘I appreciate your patience, Mr Louis. You’ve been so kind and I’ve been nothing but trouble.’

He stood abruptly. The table shook. ‘Really. It’s no trouble.’

Jess decided that was her cue to go. She gathered her bag and followed him to the front door.

‘I’ll have to return the favor sometime.’ She gave him her brightest smile. ‘I’m not nearly as good a cook as you but I am fabulous with takeout.’

He nodded. ‘That would be very nice, but no Chinese. I don’t eat Chinese.’

‘All right, then.’ More awkward seconds ticked off. ‘Good night, Mr Louis.’ She turned to walk out the door but his voice stopped her.

‘George.’ He cleared his throat. She had decided that was his nervous tic. ‘You’re to call me George.’

‘George,’ she repeated. ‘Well, good night, George.’

‘Good night, Jess.’

The night air wasn’t much cooler than it had been before the sun went down. Sometime next month the heat would start to lose its ferocity. She couldn’t wait.

Taking her time, she strolled across the yard toward her place. Mostly she worked at shaking off the creepy feeling she felt guilty about having. The man was just trying to be nice and she couldn’t stop analyzing him and his nervous habits long enough to truly appreciate his generosity.

At least she didn’t have to worry about dinner tonight.

Careful not to touch the railing, she climbed the steps to her door. As soon as she’d had that soak she’d promised herself, she intended to open a bottle of wine and relax in the glider that waited just outside her door. Another kind gift from her landlord. Lord, she felt like a total shit.

It was cool inside her place. She turned on the light, then, out of habit, locked the door and left her bag on the table. Grabbing her robe, she headed for the bathroom. If she had ever been this tired, she had no recall of the event. No sleep at all last night had taken its toll. Thank God Lori had done all the driving today. She opened the valves to fill the tub. Deep and extra hot was how she wanted it.

Jess thought of that dark Corolla that had followed her and Lori today. First thing in the morning she would put Chad Cook on trying to run down the possibilities with that partial plate number she’d gotten.

A rap on her door stalled her efforts at opening a bottle of white wine she wished was chilled but wasn’t. She hoped Louis hadn’t decided that he couldn’t deal with all her issues and had come to give her notice of eviction. Or, worse, Harper was here with the report of another murder. Nah, he would just call.

That left only one possibility. She peeked at her visitor.
Dan
.

She opened the door and stared up at him. ‘This is not a good time, Burnett. You’re getting between me and my two best friends – wine and a long, hot bath.’

‘I wanted to let you know that your Audi will be ready tomorrow around lunch.’

‘You couldn’t call?’ There was more to it than that. ‘Is there something new on Allen?’ Surely not since noon today.

‘Nothing new. Did you speak to Mr Louis about a search of his property?’

‘Yes, I did. He agreed. You just need to set up a time.’

‘Good.’

There was more. She waited. He stood there. This part always drove her nuts. ‘You’re here for what reason, then?’ They were not having sex tonight. No way. No how. She refused to even be tempted, which required that she stay annoyed at him. They had bent that rule completely out of shape already this week. And she was exhausted. Totally, dog tired.

‘Pratt called.’

Jess laughed. ‘I should have known.’ She turned around and headed back to that bottle of wine.

The door closed, locks engaged, and Burnett joined her. ‘You need any help with that?’

‘No, sir.’ She twisted the corkscrew harder, taking her frustration out on it.

‘Mr Baker complained about your tactics interviewing his daughter
-
in
-
law. He claims she was in no emotional condition to be interviewed.’

The cork came loose with a distinct
pop
. Jess didn’t say a word until she had poured a hefty serving and downed a significant portion of it. ‘She called and asked to speak to me as soon as possible. Ask Harper and Wells if you need verification. Besides, when exactly are family members of homicide victims in a suitable emotional condition for interviewing? Should we put the investigation on hold until whatever time that is?’