Buried (Detective Ellie MacIntosh) (11 page)

“She answered both 911 calls.”

He meant for two murdered cops. Jason didn’t like that either.

“I was with her for one. She gets my vote as unlucky cop of the year. How did you get this tip anyway?”

“Anonymous phone call.”

That wasn’t good. Jason lifted a hand. “Before you ask, no, I haven’t said anything to anyone. If someone knows you and MacIntosh are sniffing around on the side, it did
not
come from me.”

“Okay.” Grasso put a ten on the bar. “I believe you. But I want you to talk to Danni Crawford for me. One friend to another. She obviously knows you’re not even on duty right now. If she can tell you something, anything, about Brown’s connection with Fielding, or a link to an event that might interest the DEA, then I’d like to know about it, and I think she’d talk to you way before me.”

It was probably true. Jason knew he had a reputation for being a little too much of a cowboy now and then—he didn’t even deny it. He’d been reprimanded once or twice, and the only reason MacIntosh had been assigned his partner was to tone him down a little, though no one had ever said it to him out loud. On the flip side, he’d worked his way up through the ranks and he’d earned detective. No one had ever handed him anything on a silver platter, and pretty much everyone recognized that fact. Grasso, in his expensive suits, was not the average cop.

“Sure, I’ll talk to Danni.” Jason smiled without humor. “Between you and MacIntosh, I’m feeling like I’m back on the job.”

The lieutenant slipped his money clip back into his pocket. “MacIntosh? How so?”

“Wants me to look into an old missing-person case.”

“She does?” Grasso seemed interested. “Who?”

If she hadn’t said anything to her current partner, Jason wasn’t about to go there. They didn’t always get along perfectly, but in this last case, he’d saved her ass, and she’d done the same for him. He shrugged. “I don’t even know. I think she’s out of town right now.”

That seemed to satisfy her new partner, for he nodded. “She is. Let me know what Crawford says.”

“I will.”

After Grasso left, he sat there and thought about drugs and dirty cops and love affairs that ended because someone was killed, and wondered about his choices in life, which happened now and then.

“Jase.”

His head came up and the familiar tone cut right through him.

Oh crap
.

He turned with a very fake smile. “Kate. Yeah right. I thought that was you over there.”

There was a problem in his life. He didn’t do fake well at all. All up front was more his style.

Kate lifted one hip and slid onto the stool Grasso had just left. “
Thought
it was me? Please. You’ve said a lot of stupid things in your lifetime—there’s a list miles long—but that might be the most ridiculous yet. We lived together for months. You’ve been doing your best to not as much as glance over since the minute you saw I was here. But you saw me, and I saw you. Can we be honest here?”

“Sure.” He was just going to walk home, so maybe another beer was in order. He lifted a finger at the bartender. “Fine. It is a little awkward to see you have drinks at our old place with another guy, but you’ve moved on. Hi. There it is. We’ve said hi.”

She gazed at him. “You are angry with me and I think I know why.”

He’d always loved her eyes. They were really gorgeous. And her tits. He couldn’t deny his affection for that part of her anatomy. Fantastic breasts.

And he was more pissed than he realized, or let himself realize, that she’d not come to the hospital after the shooting. It stirred in him as they looked at each other. Casually, he fingered his beer. The music faded into the background. “About you leaving? I’m a fan of self-preservation myself, so no, I get why you moved out. You wanted more dark and brooding. I’m not exactly the esoteric type. Who’s the boyfriend?”

“I want you to know, I
couldn’t
visit you.”

The trouble was, she was in earnest. Did they really have to fucking talk about this? It was over. Staying home and playing solitaire on his computer might have been a better idea. He still tried to deflect. “Visit me?”

“You just can’t play stupid well, so don’t try.” Kate, the soon-to-be doctor of psychology, shook her head. “God, you have so many issues I should have stayed and used you as a case study.” She sighed and rubbed her cheek. “Jason, I wouldn’t have moved in with you if I didn’t have feelings for you, and just because you are impossible to live with doesn’t mean they all vanished. Your job scared me from the beginning, and when I heard you’d been shot by a serial killer that was an affirmation of my fears.”

What was he supposed to do? Apologize? He hadn’t enjoyed the particular exchange of gunfire either. It must have been those two bullets that hurt like hell and nearly killed him. Maybe her tender feelings had been vindicated, but he’d nearly died.

He was making progress because he didn’t actually ask that question out loud, but he still couldn’t quite handle it the right way. “I exist to affirm your fears about bad decisions, Katie. If you didn’t know that, you would not have left.”

Her face tightened a fraction, but then she looked away. “I’m sorry.”

“For?”

Her hand rested on the bar, and her eyes were soft as she turned to look at him again. “That you never fell in love with me. Or that I ever fell in love with you. I can’t figure out even now which is worse. That was a great deal of the problem. I couldn’t decide which one of us I felt sorrier for.”

“Is that good English? Sorrier for? Doesn’t sound right to me.”

The minute he said it, he regretted it, but the flippancy was a knee-jerk reaction he couldn’t help. Had he loved her? He was afraid he hadn’t. Here he was, in his middle thirties and he’d never been in love. Ouch. Loser.

“I need to get back to the university. Take care of yourself, okay?” She slid off the stool and left, the man she’d been sitting with giving him a look of open curiosity as he held the door for her.

It didn’t help when the bartender set his beer before him, and said, “You know, I think from the look on your face I’ll just give you this one on the house, Detective.”

Chapter 10

He came home to an empty house.

No warmth. The woodstove was cold, the furnace off.

He said her name and it echoed through the hallway in an eerie repetition, as if someone whispered it back to him. The chill that touched his skin wasn’t just the unmoving air.

Methodically he took off his shoes, his stocking feet freezing as he moved through the silent rooms.

She was gone.

Nothing. No one. Every bedroom deserted, the quiet unnatural, darkness and panic growing.

He’d wondered what she would do. There were rumors circulating … of course there were. Secrets were very rarely kept. Only a fool counted on someone else keeping their mouth firmly shut.

That was, of course, the problem. He hadn’t counted on anyone, anything, he’d just been a human being, and human beings were extremely fallible.

He should have just talked to her. Face to face. Addressed it.

At the end of it all he went to the kitchen, took out a bottle of milk that had seen better days, and drank a glass, staring off into space.

So it had happened.

The milk was really sour.

How long had she been gone?

*   *   *

The station was
busy, but then again it usually was, and tourist season wasn’t quite over either, so the county still had extra residents and more people always meant more trouble.

An inevitable equation.

Ellie weaved her way through the building with the ease of some familiarity and finally found the desk of Detective Jared Carson, a slight smile hovering on her lips when he glanced up and saw her, his expression going from distracted to welcoming.

She liked him. He was younger than she was, probably only late twenties. Tall, a little lanky, with blond hair already thinning a little and lashes as fair as his hair. She wasn’t surprised he was stuck with this very old cold case, if it was even a case at all, since he was pretty young to be in his position. His tie was a little askew, but his handshake was all business. “Detective MacIntosh. I haven’t seen you since this spring. What brings you here?”

She took the chair he indicated and smiled with as much warmth as she could summon. “I suspect you know. The body found on my grandfather’s property. Any progress?”

“You’ve been to see the medical examiner. What did he have to say?”

“I see there is open communication between your offices.”

“Some.” His grin was easy but conciliatory. “Look, I’m not going to give you false promises. Truthfully, the old records are a pain and the ME’s office is giving me kind of a large window on those bones.”

“And you have other cases.”

“I do.” He folded his hands together.

“So not a lot of urgency.”

“Should there be, Detective?”

Well, now, that was the problem. Why the hell was she pushing on this case anyway? Obviously her grandfather just wanted it to go away, and in truth so did she.

“No.” Ellie exhaled and pushed her hair behind her ear. “I’m just puzzled. Since there isn’t an age assigned to the bones yet, I am wondering who could possibly be interred in an unmarked grave. That should make us all curious, shouldn’t it?”

Carson nodded. “We are, but there’s no specific indication of murder.”

“And if there was, it would have been years ago.”

“Pretty much.”

“Those striations on the bones?”

“Inconclusive, I’m told, at least in labeling it a homicide.”

And they’d given the case to a new detective who was too busy to look into it. In his defense, they were probably overworked.

“I’m wasting your time.” Her tone was apologetic.

“No.” The words were gracious. “If you have a helpful lead we’d appreciate that, but otherwise, we’ll just keep you informed if you like.”

“What if I could offer some free help in the form of a colleague of mine from Milwaukee who is out on medical leave? He’s already agreed to look over missing-persons files. He wants something to do.”

“Free is good. I’ll ask the sheriff, but I’m sure you’ll get a thumbs-up. We like free around here, especially from MPD.”

“Thanks.”

Outside it had started to thicken with the dusk. Bryce had, as usual, opted out of entering the county offices, no doubt a reaction to his previous experiences with Wisconsin law enforcement. He was leaning against the car, his cell phone to his ear, and when she approached, she heard him say, “We’ll be back in Milwaukee tomorrow. I’ll ask Ellie.”

They’d driven her car up and she looked at him inquiringly before she slid into the driver’s seat. “Ask me what?”

“Dinner with my parents.”

He came from a close-knit family, which she liked, but her schedule was sometimes erratic. Half the time she canceled, and while the Granthams had been very nice about it, it seemed like at the moment there was potential for another fall from grace. “Tomorrow? I don’t know.”

“How about we plan it at our house? I’ll cook. If you get a call, you don’t have to apologize. Just take off.”

In the act of starting the car, she faltered.
Our house
. How easily he moved ahead, when she was not nearly quite so confident.

And he caught it.

“Fine, I’ll tell them we will do it some other time.” He settled into the passenger seat.

“I haven’t even answered yet.”

“Body language is pretty effective.”

The car started smoothly. She thought about bones on hillsides and dead cops. “I’m a little preoccupied, but I love your parents and don’t want to make them think I don’t appreciate the invitation. Feel free to go without me.”

“Maybe I’ll suggest next weekend.”

She backed up, wished the slanting sunlight wasn’t in exactly the angle that made it impossible to see behind her, and cleared the parking space enough to pull forward. “Things could be better by then,” she agreed neutrally. “Or worse, of course.”

“Goes without saying.”

“I don’t want you to hate my job.”

“I don’t actually.” His voice was mild, his expression reflecting pragmatic contemplation. “I’ve wondered often enough why I am intrigued by driven women, but the answer escapes me. Maybe in this universe, some things just
are
. Quite frankly, you worry about it a lot more than I do.”

It could be true. She glanced over at his tall, relaxed body and wondered herself about the intricate and often inexplicable dynamics of sexual attraction. Even though she was a detective, there were some mysteries she just could not solve.

“Let’s go see my grandfather and talk about this later.”

*   *   *

Danni answered the
call on her personal cell with perceptible irritation. “This is Crawford.”

“You on duty?”

For a second she seemed puzzled, but then the voice apparently registered. As did the lack of a polite greeting. “Santiago?”

“At the moment, no. I’m just Jason. I wondered if you might want to meet and talk.”

“Meet?”

She sounded dazed still. Grief, he’d discovered, could bury a person more effectively than a load of sand. Maybe if she and Chad had been married or even engaged she would have gotten some time off. He still thought maybe Metzger should consider giving her some leave.

One look at the clock said it was almost six. “Can we? Hey, I’ll buy you dinner.”

“I’m hungry,” she admitted. “It’s kind of a surprise if you want the truth. I haven’t felt much like eating. I keep thinking about it, but never get around to it. This isn’t how I wanted to go on a diet.”

He agreed, thinking about his encounter with Kate. “Actually, I went out for lunch and ended up just drinking beer instead. I’m kind of hungry myself.”

“I have to work later.”

“We can go right now, if you want. I’m pretty flexible these days. You know that.”