What She Doesn't See (13 page)

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Authors: Debra Webb

Tags: #cia, #Secrets, #Woman in Jeopardy, #opposites attract, #independent woman, #forty something, #dangerous lover

BOOK: What She Doesn't See
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“I haven’t had time.” Geez, she’d only
discovered it a few hours ago. Too much had happened since to think
about stopping by a service station.

“Bobby, would you mind taking care of Alex’s
flat?” Shannon smiled for her husband, probably promising him a
special treat later.

“Sure thing.” Bobby scooted back from the
table. “You pick up a nail somewhere?” he asked Alex.

“Guess so.” Maybe she’d run over something in
Morningside near the site of the explosion.

“You ladies chill. I’ll take care of the
dishes later,” Bobby promised his wife.

When he’d gone, Alex winked at Shannon. “Is
he bucking for some special one-on-one attention later?”

“He can dream on,” Shannon scoffed.

Alex saw the pink in her cheeks. Shannon had
every intention of giving Bobby whatever he wanted, no matter how
much she denied it.

“First of all,” Shannon began, “I think you
should share all you know with Detective Patton regardless. Taking
risks is part of his job.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“You’re going to have to take some added
precautions at home. This could be dangerous, Alex.” She put her
hand on Alex’s. “This guy Murphy might not be who he says he
is.”

Alex sighed. “I’ve been thinking the same
thing.” She would hate to find out she’d been attracted to a
killer.

“There’s always the chance Timothy O’Neill is
some sort of nutcase,” Shannon offered, hitting on a possibility
that hadn’t occurred to Alex.

“I suppose that’s possible, but I can’t see
Hitch using a nutcase for any kind of analysis, official or
unofficial.”

Shannon flared her hands, showing her palms.
“I’ll give you that one. Still, he may have made some sort of
mistake like blowing up his own house. This whole crazy story may
be about covering his ass. Maybe Hitch’s accident really was an
accident.”

Shannon made some valid points. Points Alex
hadn’t wanted to consider. “All right” Why put this off any longer?
Shannon was right. Patton was a cop. His job included risking his
life to solve crime. “I’ll talk to Patton. I’ll give him the whole
story, even the part about Timothy.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll
give him the lens. Leave it in his lap and let the authorities
handle it.”

Shannon reached for the wine bottle. “I think
that’s the right decision.”

Alex poured herself another beer. “Hey, did I
tell you that Marg joined AA?”

Before Alex could continue, Bobby trotted
back into the house via the garage door, concern clouding his face.
“Alex, you made any new enemies lately?”

“What do you mean?” Alex asked, confused.

“That’s not funny,” Shannon chastised.

“I’m not trying to be funny,” he told his
wife. “Usually when you get a flat tire it means you ran over
something that punctured the tread or maybe the valve went bad, but
neither of those things happened.”

“Give it to us in layman’s terms,” Shannon
ordered with a puff of impatience.

“Someone opened the valve and let the air out
of your tire, Alex.” Bobby set his hands on his hips and, just in
case they didn’t get it, added, “On purpose.”

Twenty minutes before midnight Alex couldn’t
take it anymore. She’d looked out the window a dozen times since
she arrived home and Murphy was still there. Watching her house.
She needed sleep and she could not sleep like this. She tucked her
pepper spray into the back of her yoga pants and squared her
shoulders. She’d given Shannon his name and description, the make
of his car and license plate info. If anything happened to her,
Shannon would go straight to Patton.

She walked out of her house, thankful for the
cool night air. As if he’d anticipated her frustration, he was out
of the car and leaning against the door. The moonlight provided
just enough illumination to cast him in a soft spotlight. Alex had
a feeling there was nothing soft about him.

“Can’t sleep?”

She marched straight up to him and every word
she’d intended to say abruptly vanished from her brain.

He stared at her for a long moment. “I take
it you’re ready to talk.”

She lifted her chin in defiance of her odd
reaction to the man. “Yes. I think we should talk.”

“Are you inviting me in?”

She flinched. Couldn’t help it. “I am.” There
was absolutely no way she was going to let this guy see how he
rattled her.

He straightened. “After you.”

Her outrage building, she marched back into
her house. When he’d crossed the threshold, she closed the
door.

“Were you planning to use that on me?”

She faced him and frowned. “What?”

He reached around her with his right hand,
his face coming so near to hers she could see the tiny flecks of
gleaming silver in his pale blue eyes. Her breath caught. He
snagged the canister of pepper spray she’d completely
forgotten.

“What do you want to talk about, Alex?”

She snatched the canister from him, ignoring
the spark of electricity touching his fingers ignited. “Did you
come into my house and go through my things?”

She resisted the urge to step back from his
penetrating gaze. He was so damned close and so very good-looking
and impossibly intense.

No way. This was her home. If anyone was
going to back off, it was him.

“Yes.” He drew away. “You were taking a bath.
The lavender was…
distracting
.”

Another little hitch disrupted her breathing.
“You were here… while I…” Sweet Jesus. Her heart was pounding so
hard she could hardly breathe, but it was the heat building inside
her that unnerved her so completely.

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “Any
more questions?”

“How did you get in?” It was a question, but
her brain was being less than cooperative at the moment.

“I haven’t met a lock yet I couldn’t open.”
His lips twitched with the need to let that ghost of a smile spread
across his handsome face.

Unable to help herself, she watched his lips
move as he spoke. Anger poked its way through the desire clouding
her good sense. “Why are you watching me? Because my friend called
me the night he was killed?” Her heart was really racing now. It
was a miracle he couldn’t see it trying to bang its way out of her
chest.

“All you have to do is tell me what happened
to the device?”

She froze. “I don’t know what you’re talking
about.”

The smile made a full on appearance now. “You
know exactly what I’m talking about, Alex.”

That he stood only inches from her should
have unsettled her. Instead, with every part of her that made her
woman she wanted to scale his lean body right this instant. “If I
had whatever it is you’re looking for, wouldn’t you have found it
when you searched my house?”

“And your office.”

Her jaw dropped. “You searched my
office?”

“I did. I also let the air out of your tire
as an opportunity to introduce myself.”

Who was this guy? “You couldn’t just knock on
my door and say hello?”

“That’s not my style.”

For the love of God. “The local cops have
never heard of you. There is no federal investigation into
Detective Hitchcock’s death.”

The smile vanished, along with all other
emotion. “This operation is on a need-to-know basis only.”

“Well, here’s the deal, Mr. Murphy,” she
opened the door, “I don’t need to know.”

“You’re making a mistake, Alex.”

“I’d like you to leave now.”

Before Alex could blink, he slammed the door
closed and pinned her against it. “I’m trying to protect you.”

Even then, she felt no fear. The feel of his
warm breath on her lips had fire blazing through her. The tension
radiating from his lean body made her want to touch him just to see
if he was really made of stone beneath all that designer
fabric.

Somehow she found her voice. “Goodnight, Mr.
Murphy.”

He stepped back, giving her room to open the
door once more. She watched him disappear into the darkness and she
could breathe again.

Chapter 16

Thursday, July 24

By dawn Alex had made up her mind about the
next step. Under no circumstances was she going to trust Wyatt
Murphy. Instead, she would tell Patton the whole story. He could
laugh her out of his office, but she was telling him anyway. Better
the devil she knew.

She would keep the contact lens hidden for
now as a sort of backup plan. She’d only give up that evidence if
Patton couldn’t move forward without it. A smiled teased her lips
when she considered that Mr. Murphy hadn’t discovered her hiding
place. Just thinking about him had a shiver of awareness racing
over her skin.

“Not smart,” she reminded herself.

Before leaving the house Alex went through
room after room of her home and checked the windows and doors. She
couldn’t remember a time when she’d been afraid in this house and
she wasn’t really scared now, but she did need to ensure that she
took extra precautions. If Murphy could get into her house, someone
else could as well.

There was no need to mention any of this to
her mother. Marg was a fanatic about keeping her windows and doors
locked—not that mere locks would stop a pro like Murphy. Alex
wondered if her mother’s obsession with protecting herself had
anything to do with her marriage. Those years hadn’t been easy and
Alex was certain she didn’t know the worst of it.

She checked her reflection once more before
heading out to try to catch Patton before he got into a case. Hitch
had mentioned on numerous occasions that he and his partner got to
work by seven each morning to enjoy a couple of cups of coffee and
to discuss their thoughts about ongoing cases. She imagined Patton
would stick with old habits no matter that his partner was dead and
that he was a new father.

Shannon had reminded her to check her tires
before going anywhere. Bobby gave his own advice, as well: Look for
any drained fluids under her SUV when she backed out of a parking
spot. Of course, she now knew who had flattened her tire. Still, it
didn’t hurt to take precautions.

Just days ago she’d climbed into her SUV with
no concern other than if her gas tank was empty or not. She refused
to acknowledge Murphy’s presence as she went through the steps.
Tires were in order. She crouched down and surveyed the concrete
under her vehicle. As clean as it had been when she’d parked there
last night.

She checked the backseat and cargo area
before clicking the remote and climbing in.

The Miami climate had already set itself to
smoldering. Alex adjusted the air conditioning in her SUV and
backed out of her driveway. As she rolled down the street, Murphy
followed. She hated that she had dreamed of kissing him. He’d
certainly gotten close enough to make that happen. Alex suspected
he’d only been trying to intimidate her. She hoped he hadn’t picked
up on how turned on she’d been.

God, maybe she needed therapy. Or maybe just
a vacation.

Even with the air turned to max, she powered
her window down and let the saltwater breeze flow into her vehicle.
She had several cleanups on the schedule today, including four
deaths. Two were natural causes, bodies already claimed, and two
others were from questionable circumstances that wouldn’t be
available for removal until after lunch.

Hernandez would take the first two scenes
while the Professor whittled away at the list of other jobs,
including the removal of decaying vegetables stacked in a far north
side duplex. Apparently the perishables had been stolen from a
local warehouse, and then abandoned in the rented home of one of
the perpetrators. A truckload of rotting lettuce, potatoes, and
tomatoes. Very messy. Like people, decaying vegetables attracted a
variety of predatory insects and vermin.

When she reached the station, thankfully,
Patton was already there. Alex found him in the lounge getting what
he announced was his third cup of coffee for the morning.

“Morning, Jackson.” He stirred two packets of
sugar into the dark liquid. “You working a case with us this
morning?”

Any time a death had to be investigated, Alex
checked in with the detective in charge before beginning her
cleanup. Standard operating procedure. She followed the rules—which
was the reason she was in this predicament in the first place.

“I came to talk to you.” She didn’t mention
the subject matter since anyone could walk in at any time. She
needed privacy for this. “Can we talk somewhere?” Most of the
detectives shared the bullpen, but there were a few private offices
and a conference room or two. A senior detective like Patton would
have access to a more nonpublic setting.

He sighed. “Sure.” He gestured to the
coffeemaker. “Coffee?”

“No thanks.” Her stomach was already in
knots, she didn’t need any caffeine.

Patton led her across the bullpen to a small
conference room. It wasn’t large enough to hold the morning
briefings, but for a discussion between an intimate few on a shared
case it would be quite sufficient. A whiteboard and conference
table that seated eight made up the basic furnishings.

When she’d settled into a seat, Patton did
the same. “You here about the guy who’s claiming to be a federal
agent? Seriously, Alex, he’s probably just trying to get a date
with you. If you want, I can talk to him.”

Alex could just imagine how that would go.
“I’m here about Hitch.”

His expression changed to one of resignation.
“I thought we cleared things up already.”

She braced herself and took the plunge. “I
wasn’t completely honest with you the last time we talked. The
eyeball I found at the Crane scene wasn’t artificial, but it did
have a strange looking contact lens attached to it. I called Hitch
and he came back by the scene to pick it up just in case it was
relevant.”

“To the scene of Crane’s suicide?”

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