The Chilling Spree (9 page)

The thing about that assumption, aside from
the fact that it was completely wrong, was that it lobbed a major
ball into my court.  Could I let it go, what we knew, what we
shared?  What if Johnny suddenly started remembering things
without understanding what lead him to commit certain illegal, not
to mention unethical acts, in order to protect my dirty little
secret?  Could I risk that?  Did I want to risk it?

Unease settled over me.  I’m not used
to feeling this empathy thing.  Dad would certainly not
approve of all these new emotional leaves I’ve been turning over of
late.  My indecision wasn’t the source of the
discomfort.  It was the sadness in such clear blue eyes that
suddenly impaled me while I debated which fork in the road made the
most logical sense.

Emotion is utterly divorced from
logic.  Whether that’s fortunate or not, I don’t know. 
Yet.  I have a feeling that I’ll figure it out if all of this
deception ever catches up with me.  That siren of the heart
beckoned, and I answered the call.  This time, my fingers
connected, a tender scrape over Johnny’s cheek.

“Of course I care how all of this makes you
feel, Johnny.  It tears my heart out seeing you struggle with
it alone.  I don’t know what else to do.  Is it right for
me to make you feel obligated to something with me when you don’t
even remember it?  I want to be selfish and demand –”

His hand clasped mine and held it against
his face.  “It’s not selfish.  I know this isn’t easy for
you either.  Rather than slam doors or fumble through this
alone, couldn’t we try to figure it out together?”  He turned
his head and kissed the heel of my palm softly.

My eyes fluttered shut.  The magnetism
that had been between us from day one tugged me into a hard lean
toward Johnny.  “We could try that,” I whispered.

“What about Detective Dreamy in the
kitchen?” Johnny’s voice was a soft reprimand more than a reminder
that Devlin might well hear every word we said. 

Deep breath.  “I don’t know what Maya
told you, Johnny, or what assumptions you made because I was with
Devlin socially tonight, but I’m not ready to forget about you
after a week.”

“Will you work this case with me?” he
asked.

“Sure,” I said.  “I’m not sure what
good I’ll be though.  Underwood doesn’t seem to take my
questions or authority seriously.  Before you arrived, we
talked briefly to the members of the band.  They weren’t much
better than Underwood.”

“Yeah,” Johnny nodded agreement.  “That
singer guy seemed pretty eager to talk to you.  It wasn’t
rocket science figuring out why.  I was thinking we might use
that to our advantage.”

Dev returned with a tray and three cups of
coffee.  “We were thinking of going back for the encore after
party tomorrow night,” he said.  “I figured that if Helen and
I appeared to be there in a less than official capacity, we might
learn something that could help the investigation.”

“What do you think, Johnny?” I asked.

“Objectively, it’s not a bad
idea.” 

I understood the message loud and
clear.  I squeezed that hand still holding mine.  “Did
the victim have an identification on her?”

Johnny shook his head.  “Nothing. 
Winslow was heading over to the morgue when I left to come
here.  She said she’d call after she rolled the prints.”

“Are Tony and Crevan still taking statements
from those with backstage access?” Dev asked while I considered how
much of the conversation he had overheard from the kitchen. 
He seemed like whatever moment we shared before Johnny arrived had
evaporated.  This was full-on professional mode.

“As best they could, considering the level
of chemical impairment flowing through the place,” Johnny
said.  “Of course word spread as fast as it usually does in
Darkwater.  The press showed up as I was trying to get
out.”

“Great,” I muttered.

“Not just any press, Doc, it was Belle
Conall.  I swear that woman is a professional nuisance.”

He was using the nickname again.  I
noticed.  How could I not?  It made me a little boneless
every time Johnny said it.  Then the implications of who
showed up to report on the bizarre death at a Pan Demon concert
seeped into my brain.  Belle Conall, the literal blackmailer
of my dear friend Crevan’s secret, sniffing around the unexplained
death of a victim Maya already suspected was transgendered. 
Micro nuclear bombs ignited in my brain. 

“What?” Orion frowned.

I shook my head.

“You groaned, Doc.  Don’t start hiding
things now.”

“It’s… I’d rather wait until Maya confirms
cause of death.”  Among other things.  Crevan’s comfort
level was about to do a one-eighty.  Could he work this
case?  Instant regret flooded me.  This would be moot,
had I not lost my temper and let Johnny’s ultimatum push me out of
a case that should’ve been mine and Dev’s.

Speaking of Devlin, his frown caught my
eye.  “Et tu?”

“I guess I’m having a little trouble
figuring out why Belle Conall would make you have a thought about
the victim’s cause of death.  Knowing you, we’re several days
behind your deductive reasoning.”

Not so much that as the things I knew about
Crevan, about why his marriage to Belle was over, her response to
it, the Adam’s apple on our allegedly female victim and how no less
than three universes were on a disastrous collision course. 
I’m pretty sure that the sickly emotion in my chest was conveyed
completely by what should’ve been a reassuring smile.  “Maybe
I’m getting a little ahead of myself.  Or, the alcohol is
doing weird things to me.  I’m tired, guys.  Dev, would
you mind getting one of the rooms upstairs ready?”

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

I nodded.  “I’ll walk Johnny
out.”  His gaze met mine.  “We can set up a time to talk
tomorrow about the case and how we plan to proceed when I’m not so
fuzzy.”

“I guess I’ll dispose of the coffee we
wanted but no longer need,” he said with a shake of his head.

“Leave it.  I’ll clean up
tomorrow.  Really, I’m tired.”  I rose. 
“Johnny?”

He followed me to the foyer and halted at
the front door.  “Doc, I hate to agree with him, but you’re
acting odd.”

“What time do you want to meet
tomorrow?  Are you planning to work the rest of the
night?”

“I’m gonna check in with Crevan and
Tony. 
Are
you all right?”

His hands slid up my arms. 

“Johnny, have you had a heart to heart with
Crevan about his divorce?”

The hint of a smile quivered at the corner
of his mouth.  “Not that I recall.  I remember the
estrangement and separation.  Is that what’s got you feeling
out of sorts?  Believe me.  Belle writing for the
Sentinel on this one isn’t gonna throw Crevan off his game.”

“What time do you want to meet in the
morning?”

“Get some sleep.  Call me when you wake
up.  Considering your rank on my speed dial, I assume you’ve
got my number too.”

“Will you call me right away if Maya calls
with any information about the victim?”

One eyebrow lifted.  “You’re making me
very suspicious, Helen.  I said I was sorry for what happened
earlier.  I’m not gonna cut you out of the case.”

That wasn’t my main concern.  If Maya
was right, how would Johnny react to the fact that I failed to
share the information with him?  I cursed my reticence.

This wasn’t my secret to share, no matter
how much I trusted Johnny.  Old habits die hard – an old adage
with much truth.  “Johnny, I can’t explain why I feel this,
but there are going to be issues with this case that are going to
make it very difficult for us.”

“In what way?”

“I can’t say.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“A little of both.  Please trust
me.  I’m not keeping my mouth shut because I want to. 
Talk to Crevan about the divorce.”

“All right,” he said softly.  “Are you
sure you’re okay?”

I wasn’t, but managed to nod my way through
another successful lie.  At least I hoped he bought it.

The phone rang half an hour after Johnny
left.

“Maya?”  How did we function before the
invention of caller ID?

“I hope I’m interrupting something.”

“Please don’t do this right now.”

“Strictly business then,” she said. 
The abrupt shift from friend to medical examiner jarred me out of
that place where sleep teases but won’t quite come.

“Your suspicion was correct?”

“Yes, our victim is a very thin Caucasian
male, and I have his identity.  Are you sitting down?”

“Lying actually.”

“Victim’s name is Kyle Goddard.  He’s
nineteen years old, Helen.”

“A baby.  Jesus.  Is he
local?”

“Yes,” Maya said.  “His parents live in
Bay View if the information from the DMV is correct.”

“Have you called Orion about it yet?”

“No,” a little grin wiggled into her
voice.  “Have you seen him tonight?”

“You know damn well that I have. 
Thanks a lot, Maya.  He’s going through enough right now
without you needling him.”

“He was brooding and needed an excuse to
follow you home.  Did you talk?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“We’re back on the case.”

“Good.  That’s it for now.  I just
wanted to give you a head’s up that I haven’t lost my mind. 
The dude looks like a lady.  Let’s hope that had nothing to do
with the motive for his murder.”

“Call me when you’ve finished the
autopsy.”

“Will do, cupcake – and yes, I know. Don’t
call you cupcake.  Get some rest.”

“You too.”  I disconnected the call and
immediately made another.

“Conall.”

“It’s Helen.  I need to see you right
away.”

“Seriously?  Helen, if you’re upset
about what happened with this case tonight –”

“No, it’s about the case, but not what
you’re thinking.  Can you come over now?”

He blew out a heavy sigh.  “We’re still
up to our eyeballs in this interview business over at the
amphitheater.  Maybe we could have a breakfast meeting.”

It wouldn’t wait that long.  “I’m
heading back over to the amphitheater now.  When I get there,
we need to talk immediately, Crevan.”

“Should you be driving?”

Reality had sobered me.  “I’m
fine.  See you soon.  And Crevan, don’t tell anyone that
I’m coming back over there.”

I redressed and slipped out of the house
without disturbing Devlin.  The drive back to Downey was long
enough to allow my fears to percolate.  My palms sweated by
the time I parked the Expedition.  I sent Crevan a text and
asked him to meet me outside.

He grinned, joining me outside in the damp
foggy night.  “Rather cloak and dagger, Helen.”

“Maya called me.”

“Oh?  Was this before or after Johnny
chased you again?”

“Our victim appears to be
transgendered.”

Crevan sobered immediately.

“You see where I’m going with this,
Crevan.”

“Belle,” he said slowly.

“Among other things, yes.”

“Is this why Johnny came back and said we
needed to have a chat about my divorce?”

“Crevan, I’m worried about how you’re going
to handle investigating this case,” I stumbled inside my brain for
soft words that did not come easily.  “This has nothing to do
with you, or how I feel about you.  Your partner, on the other
hand, wins the award for Neanderthal of the Common Era.  He’s
going to needle and make inappropriate comments.  I worry that
he’ll even have issues with the commitment to solving this
murder.  Who cares what happens to these kind of people,
right?  They’re nothing but miscreants anyway.”

“Helen, I wish you’d talk to Tony.  He
doesn’t show his emotions like a normal human being, and I think
you’re reading things into that gruff exterior that couldn’t be
more off base.  He’s pretty torn up over what happened the
night Johnny got hurt.”

I sucked in a deep breath.  “He thought
it was appropriate to keep me away from a man I love with all of my
heart.”

“Then the date with Devlin tonight, that
wasn’t a sign that you’ve moved past Johnny?”

“Of course not.  I can’t just turn it
on and off like that.  Speaking of unfair assumptions.”

“He’s my friend, Helen.  I’ve never
seen him this out of sorts before.  You’re all my friends, and
I hate it that nobody seems to be getting along right now.”

“Johnny and I talked tonight, a little bit
anyway.  Don’t worry about us.  We’ll figure it
out.  At least we seem to be closer to an amicable
whatever.”

“You’re gonna be stubborn about Tony?”

“Are you seriously standing here telling me
that you have zero concerns about what kind of can of worms this
case could open for you personally and professionally,
Crevan?  What if Belle decides she’s sick of the closed-mouth
policy of the department and starts getting vindictive?”

His eyes clouded, the vibrant green muting
to something dull and tired.  “I guess we’ll have to deal with
it if it happens.”

“Crevan,” I gripped his hands in mine. 
“I love you like no one else in this god forsaken city.” 
Silently, I pled with him to understand what could happen if my
automatic protective instincts kicked into high gear.  Belle
might end up at the bottom of Darkwater’s bay with cement Jimmy
Choo’s.  “I’m not sure I can stand idly by and do nothing if
she hurts you.”

“I’m afraid that damage is already done,” he
said.

My fingers tightened, ground the bones in
his hands together.  “She told someone?”

Crevan winced and tugged one hand
free.  It took a glancing swipe through his chestnut
hair.  “That’s not what I meant, Helen.  Some of our
fights before we separated were… traumatic.”

“I’m so sorry.  Can you work this
case?  It won’t be easy, Crevan.  I have little doubt
that Belle will have a field day with this when news breaks about
Kyle Goddard’s identity and how he was found.”