Ruthless (19 page)

Who else besides a meter reader had the opportunity to get that close on a regular basis without rousing suspicion?

Pest control provider? The mailman?

Not the mailman. His deliveries rarely took him to the door of a home and certainly not to the children’s
bedroom windows. Mailboxes were way out in front near the street… nowhere near the windows on the backs of the homes.

Jess closed her eyes. She needed to clear her head… then she could start over with a fresh perspective.

A long hot bath was in order.

And a glass of wine…

Or maybe not, since she still hadn’t gotten her period. She groaned. How had she gotten into this mess?

She did a mental eye roll. Oh, yes. She remembered. One tall, dark, and handsome police chief was the answer.

The very one who might just need to learn to answer to “Daddy.”

Birmingham Police Department, 6:35 p.m.

Jess stared at her cell phone through two more rings.
Gant.
She steeled herself and answered just before it went to voice mail. “Harris,” she said by way of a greeting.

“You didn’t think you needed to call me when those flowers were delivered?”

“That’s what Burnett’s for,” she countered. “I’m sure he called you as soon as he finished chewing me out for not calling him.” He was still mad at her. Anytime he avoided her it was because he was too angry to trust what he might say.

Well she was mad, too. Mad as hell that Spears was out there playing a game that included three innocent women whose names she didn’t even know yet. Gant and the whole bunch needed to be worried about those three women, not her. Jess could take care of herself.

“Your stalker in the Infiniti is getting bolder, Jess,” Gant cautioned. “There’s no way to anticipate what he might do next.”

“Have you identified the women in those photos?” That’s what the supervisory agent in charge of the Behavioral Analysis Unit needed to have his energies and powerful abilities of analysis focused on. He was wasting time talking to her.

“We’re close on one of the women. We’ve followed up on hundreds of names from callers. This time we may have gotten lucky in Mobile. I hope to have a confirmation within the next twenty-four hours.”

Jess sat up a little straighter. “Have you actually found the woman?” That would be very good news. She wanted to hope… she really did.

“Not exactly. She—if this is one of the women in the photos—is unaccounted for.”

Jess groaned. “Damn it. Where the hell are these women? Their faces are all over the news. Someone somewhere has to know them.”

“Bear in mind, Jess,” Gant reminded her, “we only got the photos out to the media and in the national databases less than seventy-two hours ago. These things take time. You know this. It doesn’t work like it does on TV.”

Jess reared back and glared at her phone. “You did not just say that to me.”

“You know what I mean, Jess.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” She did. People, young and old, went missing all the time without being missed immediately by friends and neighbors. She also knew that Spears would take advantage of those least likely to be missed. “Am I still trending among his friends on the Net?”

Wasn’t that every woman’s dream? To be the subject of discussion among killers and their fans?

“That’s difficult to assess. There’s indications that some have moved on to private chat rooms. But they’re still out there Jess, and they’re talking about you.”

Lovely. “As soon as you find out about the woman in Mobile, you’ll let me know?”

“Count on it.”

When the call ended Jess decided it was time to go home. As if she’d summoned him, Harper strolled back into the office. He’d had a command performance with the chief of police.

Jess grabbed her bag and readied to go. Harper went about doing the same. That he didn’t say anything had Jess wondering what Dan had to say. This was the first time since their college days that he’d gotten this angry at her. She remembered now why she hated so much when they argued. It made her feel empty and… afraid.

“You ready, ma’am?” Harper asked.

She cleared her throat and banished the memories. “Is he still angry at me?”

Harper considered her question a moment. “Not angry, no, ma’am. He’s worried.”

Well, that made two of them. “Take me home, Sergeant. I’m done for today.”

Sometimes a woman, even a cop, had to admit when she was at an impasse and only a hot bath and chocolate would help.

And maybe an apology.

9911 Conroy Road, 7:15 p.m.

J
ess stared at the interior of her fridge hoping something ready to eat and delicious would appear. There was nothing edible except a hunk of cheese and leftover pizza that needed to go in the trash. Somehow she just didn’t have the wherewithal to shut the door and admit she had no food in the house.

Hadn’t she just gone shopping and filled her shelves the other day? Relenting, she closed the fridge door and moved on to the cupboards. Yeah, there was food but all of it required some prep time and she just wasn’t up for it.

Any other time she wouldn’t even think about food unless someone waved it in front of her. Maybe it was the fact she was getting nowhere on this case that had her wanting to break open a box of Hamburger Helper and eat the uncooked noodles.

She grabbed her cell and shuffled over to the sofa. The suit she’d worn today was in the dry cleaner’s pile. After a
quick shower she’d dragged on jeans and a tee. Eventually she was having that hot bath just to relax her muscles and then heading straight to bed.

But she needed to eat first. Her belly wouldn’t stop rumbling. Maybe that middle-age spread she’d always heard about had taken root and needed fuel for the necessary expansion. Other than chocolate, she’d never been a stress eater.

The third possible explanation bobbed to the surface of her other worries.

“Not going there.” The concept was still only a theory. With this case and the whole Spears thing, who’d had time to pick up a test, anyway? No need to worry until she was at least a week late. That was reasonable, wasn’t it?

Let it go for now.

“Who around here delivers?” She prompted a Google search. “Definitely not pizza.” She bypassed all the pizza joints. “Steak-Out?” She shrugged. “Maybe.”

The security system warned that she had company. Maybe it was Dan. Guilt gave her a nudge. She hoped it was Dan. Most of his points were valid. It wasn’t fair for her to ignore him. She owed him an apology. If there was ever a time in her life she needed to stop being so damned hardheaded and independent, this was it. She and Dan were… a couple. Didn’t matter that this particular status wasn’t official. Work conflicts and ethics had to be considered. He was her boss, and everyone in the department was going to be gauging whether or not she gained extra privileges because of their personal relationship.

A firm rap on the door reminded her to check the security monitor.

She frowned. Not Dan. Gina Coleman and Sylvia Baron. What were those two doing here
together
?

Too curious to care that she’d already washed the makeup off her face and discarded her bra, she opened the door to greet her visitors. Maybe the world was coming to an end.

“Ladies.” She refused to feel inadequate with the two standing at her doorstep looking as if they’d just stepped off the runway in their formfitting designer dresses and spiked heels. “Did I forget to mark my calendar?”

As if her own body were on a mission to undermine her confidence, her gut rumbled loud enough for all to hear.

Sylvia held up a take-out bag. “Sounds like we’re just in time.”

Mortified, Jess shrugged. “I was busy. I forgot to stop for takeout.” And too lazy to cook. The grandiose plans she’d had when she went grocery shopping of creating culinary masterpieces in her little kitchen had fallen flat this week.

Maybe she needed those cooking classes Gina used for finding her zen. Haha.

Gina waved a bottle of sparkling water and another bag, this one pink. “I brought the drinks and dessert.”

Jess frowned, confused and then worried. Why sparkling water? These two couldn’t know…

“Don’t be rude, Harris,” Sylvia chastised. “Invite us in. This is our first official girls’ night.”

Jess backed up, opening the door wider in invitation. “Sounds fun.” What it really sounded like was an evening of listening to complaints about work and men. She stifled a groan. She hated those kinds of “bash the bastards you sleep with” sessions. A total waste of energy and she had none to spare.

That was another thing… she was just exhausted every night lately. Maybe it was time to get on a good multivitamin.

One thing she knew for certain. As soon as these ladies were out of here she intended to Google the symptoms of early pregnancy.
Oh God.
She wanted to scream, and she couldn’t even scream in her own house. She had company. The last two people on earth she would want to suspect she was…

Wait. Other than the mental confusion and achiness, she had several of her sister’s symptoms. What if they were suffering from the same unidentified illness? Her mind went immediately to her bag, where the notes about any health problems Jess’s and Lil’s parents might have had waited. Their aunt Wanda had prepared them
after
claiming she couldn’t remember anything.

Jess rolled her eyes. The woman’s notes were as worthless as everything else she’d ever done for Lil and Jess. Ellen, their mother, had never been sick a day in her life—according to Wanda. She’d had perfect pregnancies and deliveries. Lee, their father, on the other hand, had issues, Wanda had suddenly recalled. But she couldn’t say what. She hadn’t even named symptoms. How totally useless was that load of crap?

While Jess was caught up in her own worries, Sylvia had taken over her kitchen, arranging the take-out containers of Chinese entrees.

Giving herself a mental kick for standing here like she was in a coma, Jess went to the cabinet and grabbed three plates. She loved Chinese. Between the rice and the four—no five—entrees, this was going to be a feast. No cooking time required.

So maybe this unexpected visit wasn’t such a bad thing. It certainly smelled good.

Thankfully Wesley, her ex, had given her a set of lovely stemmed glasses that Gina was currently filling with sparkling water.

Jess had a good reason—that she absolutely would not share—for avoiding alcohol. But why were Sylvia and Gina opting out? She’d learn the reason soon enough, she supposed.

They settled around the table and not too much conversation was made while they savored the sweet and spicy meal. Jess could deal with the occasional girls’ night if the food was this good. No one had time to complain if they were stuffing their faces.

Sylvia stopped eating and held up her glass. “Let’s have a toast to us, ladies.” She shot Gina a look. “Even if it is only water.”

“After what happened with my sister,” Gina replied, “I drank myself to sleep three nights in a row. I realized this morning that I’ve always used alcohol for a sleep aid and I decided I had to do something about it before I woke up at fifty and discovered I was an alcoholic. Life is too short to spend it under the influence of mind-numbing drugs.” She glared at Sylvia. “You satisfied?”

Sylvia harrumphed as the three of them clinked glasses. “Suit yourself, but next time I’m bringing wine.”

Jess sipped the sparkling water and toyed with the idea of keeping her mouth shut for the rest of the night. She wasn’t sharing secrets with
anyone
until she was ready, and then it would be only with Dan. And maybe her sister.

After a few more bites of scrumptious chicken, Jess couldn’t take it anymore. “When did we decide we were
going to start having these little get-togethers?” No amount of mind-numbing drugs would have erased a decision like that from her memory banks.

Sylvia pointed her chopsticks at Jess. “I made the decision this afternoon. I called Gina, and we agreed on tonight at your place. Do you have a problem with that? I didn’t have to include you, you know.”

Well, there was that. “I didn’t—”

“Yes, you did,” Gina challenged Sylvia. “How can we figure out this case without her?” She gave Jess a look that warned this wasn’t about friendship. “Besides, she owes me.”