His to Defend, page 23
“Our whole relationship was a lie,” Rochelle choked out as she broke down in tears. “I was such a fool. I fell for him and had a child with the man. If I could do everything over again, I’d do it differently. I never would’ve been with him.”
“Why not just leave? Why have him killed?” Danny asked. They all wanted to know that.
“I was angry, but I didn’t think my cousin would really kill Jeremy. One day, I was telling him what Jeremy had done. The conversation got way off track. I was letting off steam and talking silly when we came up with the plan. I didn’t think David would actually go through with it. But when he really did it, I knew I had to get me and Camille out of the country.”
“I’ve seen and heard some weird stuff being on the job, but this is just...sad,” Zeke said, and left the room.
Maxwell stayed behind. He felt a little sorry for the woman. He didn’t condone anything that Rochelle did for the sake of revenge or taking care of her daughter. But unfortunately, he could relate to how angry she was with Jeremy.
There had been a couple of times over the last few years that Maxwell had wanted to strangle the guy. The difference was, he hadn’t acted on those strong emotions.
His mind went to Amina and all that she’d been through. She was lucky she had gotten out of her marriage when she had. And Maxwell was lucky that he was getting a second chance with her. Their connection was like nothing he had ever experienced with a woman, and he planned to spend the rest of his life building on that bond. Now that the case was closed, they could create the life that they both wanted...together.
Three months later...
“Amina, are you ready yet?” Maxwell called up the stairs.
“No, stay down there. I’ll let you know when you can come up here,” she yelled back, and closed the bathroom door while she finished setting up.
Their bubble baths for two had become a weekly ritual since she’d moved in with him. Some days Amina still couldn’t believe how her life had changed in such a short period of time. She never did live in her house again, opting to stay with Maxwell temporarily. But after her home sold within a week of being on the market, he had asked her to move in permanently and Amina agreed.
The man was like sunshine on the cloudiest day, bringing joy to every aspect of her life. Amina couldn’t remember ever being as happy as she’d been over the last few months. She found herself wanting everyone to feel what she felt: an overabundance of joy and peace like nothing she had ever experienced before. She credited much of that to Maxwell’s unconditional love.
She lit the last of the scented candles that were sitting on every available flat surface in the bathroom. To some, it would seem bizarre, all that she and Maxwell did to make their bubble baths special. They took the ritual seriously because it gave them a chance to relax together, regroup from a busy week, and the routine helped strengthen their bond. It was during these times that they talked about everything. No subject was off-limits, and tonight was extra special. They’d been officially dating for three months, and Amina wanted to celebrate the milestone.
The last few months had been wild and busy. David, Rochelle’s cousin, was charged for a number of crimes, the main one being murder. Rochelle had been charged with conspiracy to commit murder and hiring someone to commit murder. She was still awaiting trial, but expected to do some years behind bars.
Financially, Amina was comfortable. So when she found out how much she was receiving from Jeremy’s job, she put a plan in motion that centered around baby Camille.
The little girl was an innocent in all of this, but now she didn’t have her mother or her father. She was currently with Rochelle’s parents, who lived outside Los Angeles, and Amina didn’t know what role Jeremy’s family would play, especially since she wasn’t in touch with them. Either way, she wanted to make sure Camille was taken care of financially. Amina sent the grandparents money for her now, and she also set up a trust fund for Camille to be made available to her on her twenty-first birthday.
“I hope you’re ready in there because I’m tired of waiting downstairs.” Maxwell’s voice drifted through the bathroom door, and Amina laughed.
“Max, it hasn’t been that long. I’m still setting up. You weren’t supposed to come to the bedroom yet.”
Amina tightened the belt around her short white satin robe and glanced around the large space. Freddie Jackson’s “Have You Ever Loved Somebody” flowed through the Bluetooth speaker and the scent of lavender permeated the air. From the numerous candles to the dimmed lights, the space was romantic and as relaxing as a spa.
“Okay, I’m ready,” she said, and swung open the door. “You need to start practicing patience because...” Amina’s words died on her lips at the sight of Maxwell.
Dressed in a purple robe befitting a Nubian king, he looked like African royalty. But that wasn’t what had her speechless. No, that had everything to do with seeing him on one knee holding open a small black velvet ring box.
Tears sprang to her eyes and her hands covered her mouth. Two months ago, the marriage topic came up and they discussed plans for their future. The number of kids they would have, where they’d live, where they wanted to be financially, and the list went on and on. Amina would’ve married him on the spot, but Maxwell hadn’t asked.
“It’s been three months, baby. For some people, that’s not long enough to know if someone’s right for you. But I’ve known from the first time we met that we were perfect for each other. So what if it took us years to get to this point. All that matters now is where we go from here. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my time on this earth...with you. Loving you, protecting you and defending you from jerks like Zeke who might try to throw you in jail.”
Amina laughed through her tears and placed her hand over her heart that felt as if it was going to burst out of her chest.
“But seriously,” Maxwell continued, “would you do me the honors of becoming my wife?”
“Yes,” Amina said, and threw herself at him, practically knocking him over before he caught her around the waist. “Yes, I’ll marry you. I love you so much.”
“Not as much as I love you.”
When Maxwell kissed her, it was different than all other kisses they’d shared. The passion and desire were there, but this one held something more. A promise of forever.
* * *
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Colton 911: Under Suspicion
by Bonnie Vanak
Chapter 1
On some days, life was worth living again. This wasn’t one of them.
Lifting the sheet covering the victim, Detective Harry Cartwright squatted down by the body, the eyes staring skyward at nothing. A neat round hole punctured the victim’s forehead and a small-caliber firearm rested near his outstretched right hand. Christmas lights adorned the redbrick mansion and several reindeer decorations grazed near a red sleigh filled with brightly wrapped boxes.
“How can anyone hate Santa Claus?” he mused, his gaze scanning the red suit, the immaculate white ruff ringing the cuffs.
He dropped the cloth over the body. Out of habit he touched the gold medal he always carried in his trouser pocket. The last thing he expected before coffee was a dead Santa Claus. Naperville was a peaceful suburb of Chicago, a place where Santas were more than likely to bounce kids on their knees for photo ops than end up with slugs in their foreheads. But Jimmy had driven him out here, a stop on the way to where another vic—Axel Colton—had died.
Though it wasn’t his case, Harry could no more resist a quick look at a crime scene than a dog could resist a meaty bone.
Jimmy Curry, lead investigator with Major Crimes in Naperville, thrust a steaming paper cup at Harry. He gulped the coffee gratefully, glad for the warmth scalding his throat. A veteran of the force, Jimmy had been his old partner in Naperville before Harry moved to Chicago.
“Who called it in?” Harry asked.
Jimmy jerked a thumb at a patrol cop standing nearby. “Junior here. First week on the force.”
The cop, who looked all of eighteen years old, flipped through a notebook. “Vic’s name is Devin L. Duell. Ex-con, in for breaking and entering, paroled last month. Neighborhood security guard shot him. She was making rounds and saw him trying to break in around oh six hundred. He turned, lunged at her and she fired. Single shot to the head. Homeowners are Mr. and Mrs. Henry Ladd, away for the week at a convention.”
“Where’s the security guard?” Jimmy asked.
The uniformed cop gestured to a woman standing nearby. “Maureen Markam. Robber meets security guard armed and ready.”
Harry glanced around at the snow dusting the elegant sweep of driveway, the immaculate lawn, the house locked up tight.
“You think this was a burglary?” he drawled to the patrol cop.
“Miss Markam said there’s been break-ins over the last few weeks. Some guy in a Santa suit. Meets the description.”
“Security cameras?” Harry pointed to the house behind them.
“Blacked out with spray paint. Just like the ones at Axel Colton’s house.” The newbie’s eyes brightened. “Hey, you think this has to do with the Axel Colton murder?”
Harry resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. He pointed to a red sack a crime scene investigator photographed. “What’s in the bag?”
The newbie frowned. “A soccer ball and a kid’s toy truck. I still think this is a robbery gone wrong.”
Jimmy sighed. “Harry, why don’t you give the kid an education?”
“Why not?” Harry squatted by the body, lifted the sheet again. “Look here, kid. This is execution style.” He pointed to the bullet wound. “See the gunpowder residue? Close range, against the forehead.”
He dropped the sheet again, dusted off his hands. “You know the drill, Jimmy. Have your team check reports of local burglaries to see if the vic’s description matches. Interview all the neighbors. Check all incoming emails, letters, phone calls and visits to our Santa in prison before he was paroled.”
He narrowed his gaze at the security guard talking to another detective. “Something in Miss Markam’s story doesn’t match. See if she had a relationship with Santa.”
As Jimmy shooed off the newbie cop, Harry saw a familiar face among the gathering throng of bystanders outside the crime scene tape.
His day went from mildly bad to excruciating.
“Harry Cartwright!”
Dominic Anthony Russo the Third. Shock of white hair neatly swept back, his coat impeccable. Snow melted soon as it touched the man’s shoulders. Funny about Dominic making anything melt. Harry always thought the man was as icy as Chicago in winter. Even when Marie and John were alive.
Never one to obey rules, the old man ducked under the tape, ignoring the protests of the uniforms guarding the scene. Harry walked toward him before Dominic trampled all over the crime scene. He touched the medal again. It was a family heirloom, had belonged to his wife.
“Dominic.” Short and clipped greeting, hoping the old man wouldn’t cause a scene this time.
“Harry. I can’t say it’s a pleasure to see you back here.” Russo flexed his fingers as if he longed to punch him.
Again.
“I’m here on official business and this is a crime scene.” Harry pointed to the sheet-covered body, one black boot sticking out from beneath it.
“Right. Cop business.” Russo shook his head. “Low pay, chasing criminals. You screwed up, Harry.”
Here we go again. Harry remained silent. Russo couldn’t say anything worse than what Harry had said to himself over the past two and a half years.
“You could have had all this, Harry.” Russo swept a hand up and down the tree-lined street and the multimillion-dollar mansions. “You should have stayed in Naperville and taken that job with my firm. Head of my security. And then Marie and John would still be alive.”
Russo fisted his hands in Harry’s jacket, bunching his tie. “You killed them as much as that crook who was after you did.”
Harry shrugged off the man’s grip. He smoothed down and straightened his tie. “I’m not a rent-a-cop. And I told you, I’ll live with their deaths on my conscience as long as I breathe. But I’m not your lapdog, Dominic. I don’t answer to you. In fact...”
He narrowed his gaze at the older man. “Where were you this morning around 6:00 a.m.?”
His ex-father-in-law sputtered. “How dare you...”
“This is an official homicide investigation.” He crooked a finger at Jimmy, who hurried over. “I asked a question. Where were you?”
“I was home with my wife! I’ll call my lawyer...”
“Call your lawyer, but that makes you look even more suspicious,” Jimmy drawled.
“Jimmy and the major case squad may have more questions for you. Don’t leave town.” Harry walked off to a string of curses from Russo that would make a sailor proud.
Harry felt a wave of relief as a uniform pulled Russo back behind the tape. Not his case. Not his problem. Not his town anymore.
He stared at his reflection in the window of a police cruiser and straightened his tie. Tiny, scowling Tasmanian devils peppered the black fabric. Marie had given him that tie for his birthday. She thought it was whimsical and fun, something he needed in his life. And then a few weeks later, a car crash ended her life and John’s and anything whimsical and fun died with his family.
Jimmy joined him, shutting his notebook. Jimmy, bless him, knew the strained relationship with his ex-in-laws.
“Intense.”
“Yep. He can be.” Harry rubbed the nape of his tensed neck. He withdrew the medal, staring at it.
Marie’s great-grandmother brought it over from Italy, passing it down to Dominic, who gave it to his only daughter. Treasured family heirloom and his wife had given it to Harry on their wedding day.
“St. Jude is the patron saint of hopeless causes, darling,” Marie had told him with an impish smile. “Our marriage is a lost cause, according to Dad, so you might as well have it for protection.”
Damn, he felt like a wrecking ball smashed into his guts the day she died. Every time he touched the medal, it reminded him of her, but along with the good memories came the bad, the guilt...
Jimmy popped a piece of chewing gum into his mouth as Harry pocketed the medal once more. “We’ll handle this. What did you dig up on the Colton case?”
Axel Colton. Blunt force trauma, his head bashed in in his luxurious Naperville home recently. Out of Harry’s jurisdiction, but Naperville’s major crimes unit asked him to be point man on the case. With Christmas coming up, Naperville’s police department had their hands filled. The murder of wealthy Axel Colton took prominence, but the department was slammed, so they called in a favor and asked Harry to be lead detective on the investigation. The sooner Colton’s murder was solved, the sooner good citizens could sleep easy.
Didn’t hurt that Harry had met the Coltons while dating Carly Colton, Ernest and Fallon Colton’s daughter. Carly’s father and her uncle Alfred had been murdered by a serial killer Harry had helped to collar.
Harry glanced around. Too many ears and mouths, and he knew how this neighborhood gossiped. He inclined his head at Jimmy’s car. “If you’re done here, let’s roll.”
Jimmy nodded, left the investigation to two other detectives and soon they were driving away. Harry felt another wave of relief, as if he’d escaped the yawning jaws of a steel trap.
His old partner guided the car down a tree-lined street. “Why do you want to visit the crime scene again? Got any leads?”
“Maybe. Whoever killed Axel Colton wasn’t Santa Claus.”
Jimmy slid the car into a parking space before Axel Colton’s mansion. The house loomed, silent and dark in the snowfall.
Harry pulled out his phone, showed Jimmy a photo he’d come across.
Jimmy whistled. “Your latest love conquest?”
“Hardly. Her name’s Sara Sandoval. Came across her photo when I was checking out Vita Yates, Axel’s ex-wife. Met her at Yates’ Yards, the nursery where she works, when I was chasing a lead on Nash Colton, when we thought he might have killed Axel.”
“Quite a looker.”
“Yeah, reminds me of Carly Colton.” Harry pocketed his phone. “I used to date Carly.”
“Lucky you. You questioning this Sara? What connection does she have to Axel?”
“I plan to talk to her.” Harry rubbed his beard, his jaw tight. “I did a little digging. Found something at the crime scene as well.”
He laughed.
His former partner glanced at him. “What’s so funny?”
“The Coltons.” Harry snorted. “Everywhere you turn, there they are.”
But in this case, his dating Carly, and attending a couple of family dinners with her, proved beneficial to the case.
Because after meeting her at Yates’ Yards, he realized Sara Sandoval wasn’t just a pretty face who reminded him of Carly Colton. But unlike with Carly, he’d felt instantly smitten, the chemistry between them like an electric shock.
Harry knew he had to forget the attraction he’d felt upon seeing her. The family resemblance was plain. Sara was related somehow to Axel Colton.
