Booked to Kill, page 12
“I’ve rented the loft for over a year. Why get upset about it now?” The question had nagged her. Nothing new had happened. She hadn’t changed anything in her life. None of it made any sense.
“Usually in these cases, there is a catalyst. Some real, or imagined, slight that provokes the criminal into acting. Into believing the time is now to get what they want. Figuring out that catalyst might be the key in finding the killer.”
“You make it sound so easy.” She swallowed over the anxiety swelling her throat. She wished she could just snap her fingers and make all of her problems disappear.
He flipped open his notebook and slid it her way. “I’ve written down all my thoughts. All the facts I’ve gathered. There are a lot of players, and most of them have been in your life for a long time. None of them appear to be murderers out to get you.”
She eyed his notebook but didn’t reach for it. She knew who he was talking about, and although she appreciated him letting her in, she wasn’t ready to take a deep dive into what he really thought about her friends and family. “Maybe it’s someone we haven’t considered yet.”
He lifted a shoulder but didn’t look convinced. “Maybe.”
“Do you think you’ve uncovered our catalyst?” She steadied herself as she waited for the answer.
He locked his gaze with hers, not a line moving on his face. “I do.”
She sucked in a breath. “Dave’s death.”
He nodded.
“But why start killing people and making threats now? Dave died over a year ago.” Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. She’d suspected Dave’s death wasn’t an accident like the police claimed, but she’d never dreamed the killer would keep coming for her. Not like this. Not after all this time.
“I’m not sure about the timing yet, but after you confided your suspicions regarding the hit-and-run with your husband, I requested the case files. You’re right. Things don’t add up.”
Validation loosened a knot that had tied up her insides since Dave died. “No one else believed me. They said it was my grief talking.”
He rested a hand on top of hers. “I believe you. And I think whoever killed your husband is now back to claim you. The writing on the painting of the church you were married in, referring to the loft as our home, scattering the flower petals that were left at your husband’s funeral—this person knows a lot about you. Whoever is taunting you appears to believe the two of you are meant to be together. Or, if not you, then someone close to you.”
His line of logic made sense until the last sentence. “What do you mean someone close to me?”
“It’s very possible someone is obsessed with you. But sometimes, in cases like this, the criminal’s mind is so distorted that the person who is targeted isn’t an object of affection. It could be jealousy. A case of you having what they want.”
She laughed at the absurdity of anyone being willing to kill over what she had. “Who would be jealous of my life?”
He shrugged. “A best friend. A sister-in-law. Someone who passed you on the street and thought how wonderful your life was compared to theirs.”
She fought not to argue, because deep down, she understood his logic and knew he had a point. Even if she hated to admit it. Wanting to throw out another alternative, she added, “Or revenge, but we already considered that and came up short.”
Jack pointed a fry at her before taking a bite. “Exactly.”
“Which do you think it is?” Another question she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer to.
“I don’t know, but I do think I have a way to find out. I want you to show me where your husband died.”
She gasped, her stomach revolting at the idea of seeing the gruesome scene where her husband’s life had been cut short. “What? Why?”
“Because either your husband’s death might have pushed someone over the edge, or he was murdered to get him out of the way. Knowing the truth about what happened to Dave brings us one step closer to understanding who is out to get you.”
* * *
An odd sensation swept over Jack as he welcomed Olivia into his modest apartment. A hint of unease mixed with anticipation as her gaze flickered around, taking in the living room and the kitchen, which was separated by a half wall. His place wasn’t much bigger than hers, boasting two rooms for him and his roommate, but the beige walls and worn furniture must look awfully sad to her artist’s eye.
After she’d agreed to show him around the town where her husband had died, he’d accompanied her back to her place so she could pack a bag. A flash of urgency set him on edge. He needed to grab his things quickly before she changed her mind.
The hesitation furrowing her brow and the tight line of Max’s mouth told him neither of them were completely comfortable with his plan. But he couldn’t doubt himself now. Not when his gut told him finding out what really happened to Dave Hickman was the key to solving this whole damn case.
He tossed his keys on the circular table that took up most of the space in his tight kitchen. “You can have a seat wherever you’d like. My roommate, Nolan, is at work so it’s just us. Make yourself at home while I gather my things.”
“Thanks.” She took a step off the square patch of linoleum flooring in front of the door and lingered behind the sofa.
“I’ll join you,” Max said, following him down the short hall to his room. Once inside, Max closed the door. “Are you sure about this?”
Rummaging through the closet, Jack yanked a bag from the top shelf and selected a few shirts off the hangers. He didn’t want his clothes to scream out his profession. A light jacket to hide his sidearm, jeans to blend in, and sneakers. “What do you mean? You agree. Dave Hickman’s death looks suspicious. From what we’ve seen, the investigation into the accident was shoddy. Hardly any information you’d expect to see in a crime like this was inside the file.”
“The files the local force sent over don’t show much of an investigation at all.” Max leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms over his chest. “The local police took the easy way out. Didn’t ask enough questions. Never found the person responsible. Even if it was an accident, someone should have been held accountable.”
“Agreed,” Jack said. “I need to see the scene for myself. Draw my own conclusions.”
Max snorted. “That’s not the part I’m questioning.”
Jack tossed his half-full bag at his feet and aimed arched brows at his partner and best friend. “Then what part don’t you agree with?”
“Like you really have to ask. You’ve been down this path before. Gotten too caught up with a woman close to an investigation. It didn’t end well last time, and it might not end well this time. I can’t stand back and watch you go through that again, or watch Mrs. Hickman get hurt because you can’t see past whatever it is that’s going on between you two.”
A familiar ache tore through him. His last case in the Cybercrimes division had led to Mary’s death and almost destroyed a year-long case to end a sex trafficking ring. He couldn’t let the same disaster happen again. Especially not to Olivia, who’d already been through so much in her life.
With his chin lifted, he fisted his hands to his sides as if physically holding on to his composure. He appreciated his friend’s concern, but he didn’t like Max’s lack of confidence in him. “I need Olivia to come with me so she can help me walk the same steps her husband had walked—the same steps she had when she spent a weekend in Cold Spring. Without her, all I have is the shitty case file. That won’t get me anywhere.”
Max lifted his palms in surrender. “I’m not arguing with your plan. I’m questioning if you being alone with Mrs. Hickman for an extended period of time is smart. You’ve spent a lot time with her lately. Are you getting too close?”
He rolled his eyes at Max referring to Olivia as Mrs. Hickman for the second time. He didn’t need a reminder of who she was or to be chided like a child for his feelings. Feelings he had a firm grasp on. After what happened with Mary, Max couldn’t make him feel any more guilty—or guarded—than he already was.
“Like you were smart when you spent so much time with Samantha.” His partner had fallen hard for a woman in a previous investigation. Things had worked out for them, which Jack was happy about, but he wasn’t stupid enough to think lightning would strike twice.
Max reared back. “Well. Tell me how you really feel.”
He scooped up his bag and faced Max with squared shoulders. “Listen, I appreciate your concern but I’m fine. She’s fine. Neither one of us is looking for anything beyond finding the person responsible for two murders and terrorizing her. I won’t let anyone hurt her.”
Max nodded, but he didn’t look convinced. “Okay then. I’ll stay here and tug all the strings we’ve already exposed. Hopefully whatever I untangle will aid you, and vice versa.”
“Sounds good,” Jack said with a nod. “I need to go. Olivia’s been waiting out there alone long enough.”
Pushing by Max, he stepped into the bathroom and swiped his toiletries into his bag before zipping it up and going out to meet Olivia.
She stood from her spot on the couch and faced him with a tight smile. “You ready?”
“Yep. Let’s get going.” He hoisted his bag on his shoulder, casting a glance around the room for anything he might have forgotten.
Max met them at the door. “Keep me posted on what you find. Stay safe.”
Jack led them all into the hall. His hand shook as he slipped the key in the lock. He had to keep a tight leash on whatever the hell he was feeling. He might not have been 100 percent honest with Max, but he was certain of one thing he’d said. He wouldn’t let anyone harm one hair on Olivia’s head.
Not even himself.
Chapter 15
Driving away from the noise of the city usually lifted Olivia’s burdens from her shoulders. But not this time. As the sun hovered just above the green trees that lined the sprawling mountains, her muscles tensed. A hundred memories of the last time she’d arrived at the quaint town of Cold Spring, New York assaulted her, forcing her to shut her eyes against their crushing blows.
Just over a year ago, she couldn’t get enough of the cute little shops and colorful buildings. The charming red brick sprawled over the walkways and the gazebo that sat in front of the river had made the artist in her sing. Now she couldn’t stomach the sights. Didn’t want to inhale fresh air or remember the last steps she’d walked with her husband before everything in her life changed.
“Are you okay?”
The gentle timbre of Jack’s voice turned her toward him. His broad shoulders took up the seat back as he drove with his hands hung loosely on the steering wheel. His gaze was fixed straight ahead, but she had no doubt he could read her energy in the confining space of his car.
“I’m as fine as I can be. I don’t really know what to expect.” That was true of multiple things. She never expected to be back in the little town nestled in the Hudson River Valley and wasn’t sure what kinds of emotions she’d face during their brief stay.
But there was also a thrill running along the edges of her nerve endings. Excitement over being alone with Jack—away from the city with only each other for company. She had no illusion that this trip was anything beyond professional. A fact-finding mission to put a stop to the mess consuming her life. But she’d be lying if she didn’t acknowledge a part of her tingled with anticipation.
“We’ll make this as fast and painless as possible.” He flicked a quick glance her way. “I promise.”
A hum of agreement purred from her throat.
“We don’t have much daylight left,” he said as he turned off the main street. “We can head to the rooms I booked and get a fresh start in the morning. Or, if there’s something else you’d rather do, let me know. I don’t want to put any pressure on you. Take whatever time you need.”
Her thoughts ping-ponged in her head and made her dizzy. A quiet evening in could be nice. Maybe she’d soak in a bath or try to sketch.
A nagging in her gut told her relaxation would be impossible. Jack would be close, probably down a short hall in his own room, and that knowledge would keep her on edge for all kinds of reasons she didn’t want to examine right now. Then there was anxiety about what tomorrow held. Her mouth went dry, and she ran her tongue over her teeth. Sleep would be hard to find, knowing what waited for her with the sunrise.
Decision made, she blew out a long breath. “Can we go somewhere before we get to the hotel?”
“Sure. What do you have in mind? We can grab a bite to eat if you’re hungry. Or take a walk to calm our nerves.”
She smiled. “You’re nervous?”
He shrugged, not answering her question.
The idea he was tense somehow put her a little more at ease. “I have something else in mind. I want to head to the place where Dave was hit.”
A beat of silence pulsed before he asked, “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Seeing it will be the hardest part of this little trip. I want to get it over with.” Then she could grab that bath and maybe a glass of wine and unwind all the tension circling her neck like a noose.
Jack parked the car on the side of the street. He let the engine idle as he fiddled with his phone. “The spot where he was hit is close.” He programmed his GPS then pulled back onto the quiet street, following the directions given.
“We stayed a few blocks from downtown, so I figured it was nearby. Dave ran every day, so he set out for his morning jog first thing that morning.” Jack hadn’t asked her any questions, but the urge to fill the silence had her spewing the horrible details. “We took the train up and didn’t have a car, so we wanted to stay close to town.”
She chuckled to herself, replaying the quick banter she and Dave had exchanged before their getaway. “He was so annoyed. The train doubled the time it took to get up here. But the scenery was so pretty, and I wanted us all to relax and just enjoy every second. Dave said I was ridiculous but agreed to skip driving on the highway anyway.”
“What about your brother and Clara? Were they irritated by the longer travel time?” He spared her a quick glance before returning his attention to the quiet, residential street.
She tilted her head to the side and studied his profile. Nose slightly crooked at the end and a square jaw covered with scruff. He kept his gaze ahead as he traveled the charted course, but his tight grip on the wheel told her he was very interested in what she had to say. “Not at all. They were so happy. It’s sad how things unraveled in their marriage. I hate that I could be the reason.”
“You should talk to her,” he said. “When we only have our own perspective of a situation, it can be hard to see the big picture.”
She leaned back against the soft, leather seat—happy to think about something besides their destination for even a few seconds. “I wish she would talk to me. She’s always been one of my closest friends. I hate the thought of losing her.”
Jack rested a hand on her arm. “I don’t think you have to.”
The scenery outside her window stopped moving, and Jack put the car in Park. Her heart stopped, and she caught Jack’s concerned stare. Sweat moistened the back of her neck, and she struggled to keep the nausea in her gut settled. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
He slid his hand from her arm down to her palm. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
She nodded, grateful for his support but knowing she owed it to Dave and Courtney and Priscilla to step out of the car and face her demons. Hell, she owed it to herself. She needed to put fear behind her once and for all. And the first step in putting the terror of the past in her rearview mirror was to look it in the eye. “I’m okay.”
She turned to stare out the window and black shaded her vision. The world stood still. The spot where Dave had been hit and left for dead was marked with a small, wooden cross. She swallowed hard and clenched her jaw to keep the tears misting her eyes from falling.
“It happened right there,” she said, lifting a finger to point at the spot that looked like just an ordinary stretch of sidewalk in a suburban neighborhood.
“I’m so sorry.” He squeezed her hand. “We can get out if you want. Or stay in the car. If you need to step outside for a moment to yourself, I’ll sit here. You tell me whatever you need.”
She tore her gaze from the shabby patch of grass between the sidewalk and road, not wanting to see the sprinkle of yellow dandelions on the lawn beyond. “It’s weird. I can see that morning so clearly. When I got the call, I ran down here. I remember the swarm of people milling about, wondering what happened. Police cars and sirens. The torn-up earth where the car had driven. But now...it doesn’t even feel like the same place.”
“The world keeps moving, keeps changing, even when you wish it wouldn’t,” he said. He gently swept the pad of his thumb over the back of her wrist. A comfortable silence hung in the air. “How do you feel?”
She shrugged and struggled to put her emotions into words. “Sad. Relieved. Scared. I thought this would be unbearable, but I’m glad I came. Even if nothing else comes from this trip, this is worth it. Because it shows me that even when you don’t witness the change, time heals. Heals wounds and ripped-up earth and broken pieces of concrete.”
“Do you want to look around?”
She shook her head. “We can come back and do that tomorrow. Now I want to recharge a bit.”
With her hand still in his, he merged back onto the road and headed the way they’d come.
She settled against her seat, happy to be lost in her thoughts. In her new sense of peace. Something had shifted inside her. Freed her from a whole host of things holding her back. And for the first time in a long time, even amidst the horrors waiting for her back home, she could finally breathe. Finally believe her future held more than just hurt and pain and grief.
