Conviction of the Heart (12 page)

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Authors: Alana Lorens

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: Conviction of the Heart
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The overnight bag she’d brought to the office held a pair of black pumps with a mid-height, chunky heel. She slipped them on, then looked in the mirror again.

Satisfied with her clothing, she dabbed on a hint of makeup, nothing garish, and added small dangle earrings, blue gemstones wrapped in silver, and a spritz of Opium, her favorite perfume. A deep breath gave her a moment to examine her appearance. A little less than professional, a little more than Sunday church. It would do.

She picked up the overnight bag and returned to her office with fifteen minutes left to wait.

Should she be ready when he showed up? Should she be immersed reading papers, so he could see how hard she worked? She paced, trying to decide.

She really liked him. He had a way that connected with her. So many professional men she’d met exhibited personas rigid and ambitious, anxious to get ahead in the world. Pretentious, single-minded individuals immediately triggered Suzanne’s defenses.

Nick was different. It was refreshing to meet someone willing to show her a gentler side, someone not trying to control her, but just taking life as it came. It was
fun
.

Realistically, she knew this wasn’t a trait that elevated someone through the police department ranks to lieutenant. Inside the man, then, a more aggressive drive must exist. But he was smart enough to know that wouldn’t work with her.

That, she liked, too.

Before she could make the decision, it was made for her. Nick appeared five minutes early, announcing his presence by a smooth whistle from the door. “You clean up real pretty, counselor.”

“You don’t look much like a cop today, either.”

The whole package enticed her, the polished shoes, the sharp-creased khakis, the gold-and ruby class ring on his right hand. The top two buttons of his navy print shirt were undone, revealing curly dark hair, thick and especially appealing.

He saw her looking and added a smile. “I wanted to be classy enough to be seen with a member of the bar.”

“You may have succeeded,” she said. “We’ll wait for the reviews to come in before making a final ruling.”

“Cautious, always cautious,” he chided, but there was a good nature to his words. “Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’m going to be. Let’s go.”

****

As the concert concluded, Suzanne sat back, the final notes of “Nights in White Satin” still swirling in her head. She looked up at the huge crystal chandelier, one of a number of hanging lights in the Baroque-style setting in shades of brick and terra cotta, all trimmed in gilt highlights and shiny brass rails. The ceiling full of muted octagonal lights gave the interior of the Benedum a gentle warm glow that echoed with the feeling inside Suzanne herself.

The evening had been perfect, so far, tapas and wine at Ibiza, then the music she’d always loved in the darkened theatre. Edge, Hayward, and crew played a fabulous gig, including a medley from
Days of Future Passed
.

Nick and Suzanne waited for the majority of the crowd to leave, Suzanne comfortable in the first-tier level seats, which she knew had set the detective back a few dollars. She’d had several glasses of wine, contributing to the greatest sense of relaxation she could remember in months. Nick had seen to her every need, almost before she’d realized what she needed.

She turned to him with a smile. “Thank you, Nick.”

“You’re welcome.” Something of the excited puppy was in his eyes, delighted he’d pleased her. “What next?”

“Next?” She sat up straight. “It’s probably eleven o’clock. Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“Saturday tomorrow. No work for me.” A calculating curl of his lips.

“Right.”

What to do? Her house was empty. Hope and Riviera were staying with their grandparents, since it wasn’t a school night. They hadn’t left just because of the date. She hadn’t told them. No sense getting their hopes up. Truth be told, she’d been glad they had plans. She’d wanted options, and no reason to have to hurry home.

“What did you have in mind, Lieutenant?” There. Toss the ball into his court.

He stood up, offered her a hand. She took it, and he raised her to her feet.

“First, this.” He slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her close to kiss her. She closed her eyes, released the objections that automatically came to her mind and let herself go. He’d worn that aftershave she’d noticed in the courthouse elevator, and as he pressed her against his chest, the scent filled her nose and made her knees weak. Her hands, at first on his shoulders, perhaps ready to push away, soon surrendered with her will, slipping around his neck instead. Their lips met, parted, met again, softly tasting each other, teasing, too. He kissed her a little more intently, seeking something, some answer only her lips could provide, or perhaps only her soul. Heat rose between them consuming all sound and motion, until she lost track of her surroundings.

He let her go slowly. She opened her eyes, finding his so close, so liquid, so overcome with emotion. Hers, she knew, must have looked the same.

“Good beginning,” she whispered.

He didn’t move. “I know where we can finish that thought.”

Her breath caught. Did she dare?

“Will you come home with me, Suzanne?”

Words stuck in her throat, and she couldn’t force them out. She wanted to say no. She wanted to say yes. A stray thought crossed her mind that the rush of desire in her body was willing to let him take her right there, and she squelched that as soon as she caught it. But that one made up her mind. She nodded and let him take her hand.

They walked, hand in hand, along Seventh Avenue to the parking garage at Theater Square. Night sounds of traffic and happy concert-goers floated around them. Suzanne couldn’t speak, afraid she’d jinx what seemed to be the best chance for the right one she’d had for many years. While she would have been concerned to walk in this area by herself on a weeknight, the presence of a city police lieutenant considerably allayed her fears.

Nick exchanged greetings with the security guard on the first floor of the garage, then they continued up to the second parking deck. As they approached Nick’s pick-up truck’s passenger-side door, a man in a black hooded sweatshirt and jeans walked up to Suzanne and jabbed a large manila envelope in her direction. She took it without thinking.

“What’s that?” Nick asked, his brow clouding up.

“For the lady,” the man mumbled. His shoulders hunched, he kept his face turned away from the parking lot lights overhead. Not as tall as Nick, he slouched away, disappearing around the corner toward the exit as Nick reached for the envelope.

“Do you know that guy?” Nick asked.

“Hard to tell.” Feeling a little sick, Suzanne pulled the envelope away from Nick’s outstretched hand. Her independent streak wasn’t ready to give in just yet. So far, this was her problem. “All thugs in black look alike in the dark, hmm?”

“I’ll go after him.”

“Nick, don’t. We don’t even know what it is.” She started to open the envelope, but he just growled at her.

“Come on, get in the truck.” Nick stood straight now, like a guard dog at alert, his eyes surveying the garage. “You can examine it inside.”

She didn’t argue when he opened the door, but climbed in obediently. Her mind returned to Riviera’s email, and the threat therein. What was in the envelope? Another threat? A letter? Something worse?

Nick closed the door behind her, moving swiftly around the truck to climb in the driver’s side. He gunned the engine, taking off in the direction the man had gone. The man in black was not to be found. Nick exchanged a few brusque sentences with the parking attendant, but got no answers. His foot slammed on the gas pedal and peeled out of the lot.

Her shoulder slammed into the passenger window as he took a hard left onto Sixth. Her stifled gasp brought a quick look of contrition and an apology, but he didn’t slow down.

“Suzanne, I’m sorry. I just didn’t want the chance that someone was looking to take a shot—”

“Take a shot? What the hell are you talking about? It’s an envelope, for heaven’s sake.”

He reached forward with his right hand to snap on the interior map light. “No return address,” he said, his voice tight.

She eyed the envelope, turned it over. No markings of any kind, not even dirty fingerprints.

“We could take it to the station,” he suggested.

“It’s probably nothing.”

Even as the words left her lips, she chastised herself. She didn’t think it was nothing. She just didn’t want her evening with Nick Sansone to turn into a crime event. It wasn’t fair.

Annoyed, she opened the clasp even as Nick protested, grabbing for the dashboard as the truck swerved. “Look, damn it, you drive and I’ll look at this, all right?”

His breath came in short but heavy spurts, and his right hand hung in the air between the steering wheel and Suzanne, as if he waited to yank the envelope from her hands. “All right,” he conceded. He turned his attention to the road with a glance in the rear-view mirror. “You said the girls are at your parents.’ Right?”

“Mm-hmm.” She tilted the envelope, peering inside. No white powder. Too flat for a scorpion or other creature. Just a couple sheets of paper. She reached in and slid the papers out. When she saw what was on them, she nearly dropped them as though they were white-hot.

“Everything all right?” he asked, his tone indicating he knew it wasn’t.

She adjusted her grip on the papers, trembling fingers a little more solid against the sheets of plain office paper as she studied a dozen color pictures of Hope and Riviera at school, in various rooms and groups of young people.

She didn’t know how long she stared at the prints, steeped in shades of horror. Her heart raced, as if his foot on the gas pedal sent her flying forward into the unknown. The clock said only ten minutes had passed, but she felt like it was nightmare-laced hours before Nick pulled the truck to a stop. She dragged her attention up, to look out the window, to discover they were in some office building parking lot in Greentree. “What are you doing?” she asked softly.

“May I?” he asked, but he didn’t wait for her answer. He took the pictures from her hand, shuffling through the pages at a brisk pace. His jawline tightened to stone.

“So. Someone is taking pictures of your children. This says they know where your children are. And they bring the pictures to you after a concert at the Benedum, which means they know where
you
are.” He eyed her. “Stalking is a crime in this state. But I don’t have to explain that to you, I’m sure.”

“No, you don’t.” Suzanne tried to focus her thoughts, which had followed the same chain of logic. Who had the resources and tenacity to pursue her like this?

One obvious answer.

Nick growled. “Well, we’ve both got fingerprints on them now.” He slipped them back in the envelope. “I can turn them over to the lab techs tomorrow. Unless you already know who sent them.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. Not for sure.”

“You’re thinking it’s Councilman Morgan.”

A shrug was her only response. If she was wrong, she’d cause both Maddie and herself much more trouble than it was worth. He spoke for her.

“I’m thinking that’s who it is. Unless it’s standard behavior for crazies to hire people to track you down.”

“To tell you the truth, Nick, I deal with a lot of people who are unstable. I mean, for heaven’s sake, it’s the worst time in their life. They’re losing their partner, their house, their kids. How are they supposed to react? I try to give people the benefit of the doubt.”

“That’s crap.” The edge in his voice could have sliced through the asphalt they parked on. “No one has a right to terrorize you or your girls.” He studied her in the light reflected from the overhead parking lot lamps. “But this is part of a bigger picture, isn’t it? This isn’t some random crazy.”

She closed her eyes, the relaxation she’d experienced earlier in the evening quickly dissipating. “Yes.”

He took another long look into the rear-view mirror, then suddenly bailed out of the truck. He marched around, muttering, words she couldn’t hear, but his tone was clearly angry. She understood. She felt the same taut wire coiled inside herself, ready to spring loose. But she had other priorities.

She reached in her pocket for her cell and dialed her mother’s number. Long seconds passed while she waited for an answer, during which she watched Nick’s frustrated walkabout. Finally her mother answered. “Hello?”

“Mom? This is Suzanne. Is everything all right?”

A hesitation. “Of course everything’s all right, dear. The girls had some friends over to watch a movie, but everyone’s getting ready for bed now. What’s the matter?”

Suzanne counted to ten. The last thing she needed was to get her mother riled up at this time of night. She put a smile on her face, hoping it would come through in her voice as well. “Nothing’s the matter. Someone tried to call my phone but it cut off before I could see the number.” Okay, it was a lie, but it was for a good reason. “I just didn’t know if it was one of you.”

“No, dear. Your father’s taken his milk and cookies up already, so it wasn’t him. The girls are washing up.” A pointed moment of silence. “The dogs will let us know if anyone shows up who’s not supposed to be here.”

Suzanne bit her lip. It figured her mother would have guessed Suzanne wasn’t being completely honest. “What? Of course they would. I’m not going to worry about any of you at all.”

“That’s fine, dear. You have a good time.”

Did she know about Nick? Had Suzanne let something slip to the girls? She hadn’t thought so. Of course, they were a combination of beauty and brains, the both of them. Hmm. “All right, Mom. Thanks. You call if the girls need anything, all right?”

“Of course I will. Good night.”

As she hung up, Nick marched back over to the vehicle, and gunned the engine. “All right then.” He sped off into the night. Several times, she tried to open a conversation, but couldn’t think of something that wasn’t a subject so glaringly distracting, it was an obvious non sequitur. He probably wanted to discuss the pictures, root out the culprit. It was, of course, what he did every day. Suzanne, though, wasn’t sure she wanted a face on her potential tormentor. As long as it was a nebulous “someone,” she could avoid open confrontation.

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