Corpse Whisperer (4 page)

Detective Ed Bauer, his best friend, had called him in.

“The same,” Ed said.

Zach nodded. This fire looked the same as the last case he’d had before being asked to resign from the Prosecutor’s Office. The one that had been his downfall.

“Either we have a copycat on our hands or we arrested the wrong man a year ago,” Ed said. His grin appeared more as a grimace than a look of pleasure.

A mere bone. No one would ever let him back in the door at the prosecutor’s office. No PD would have him. Besides, he’d lived in Jersey his whole life. Why would he move now?

Lors’ baby tied him here for good.

Zach sighed. As much as he hated leaving the department, he couldn’t see himself going back. He had more freedom and no boss breathing down his neck. Even if he tracked down cheating husbands, he still had the occasional arson case to keep his skills sharp.

A visitor in uniform appeared at Zach’s desk as soon as he took a bite of his protein bar. He hated the taste of it, but they got him through the day. His gaze traveled from the dark blue pants to the belt holding trauma shears, latex gloves and a stethoscope.

Grace looked ready to spit nails at him. How did she find him?

He dropped the bar on his desk, wiping his fingers on his pants. “You ready to talk?” He motioned for her to sit. e He

She shook her head. “No, and I don’t appreciate prowlers spying on me in the middle of the night. At least have the balls to identify yourself.”

What was she talking about? “Miss Harmony, trust me. If I were spying on you, I’d have walked through the front door or you wouldn’t have known I was there.”

“Don’t snow me. I’ve dealt with you law enforcement types before. You were on the driveway last night.”

“I was not. I was deep in sleep after I left Lors’ house.”

“And what time did you leave? Abruptly at midnight?”

“Did you see someone in your driveway at midnight?” he asked, shifting a pad of paper to the center of his desk. “Was that the exact time?”

She looked at him as if he’d just walked out of a space ship. “You know what time you were there.”

“Please sit and listen carefully to what I have to say. I was not on Dolores’ driveway at midnight. I was having a very lewd dream, probably right around that time if you must know. So I’ll take notes and you should file a police report.”

She plopped herself down in the chair, her radio hitting the side of his desk. “It wasn’t you?”

He liked that she didn’t blush at his comments. Since working mostly with men she probably heard sexual comments all of the time. “No. What time exactly?”

She ran a hand over her face, the momentum out of her anger. Her radio squawked and she turned down the volume. “My clock said 12:15.”

“What did you see?”

He scribbled the time at the top of his page. Who would be scoping out Dolores’ house so late at night? He’d check with the local PD to see if there were any burglaries in the area.

“A man was standing on the driveway,” Grace said. Her gaze looked over his shoulder as if she were reliving the incident. “I assumed it was you.”

“Where?”

“First at the end then he moved down the driveway. He seemed to be looking up at my apartment. I backed away.”

“Did you feel threatened?”

“I was naked. I put on a robe and went outside.”

He resisted the urge to throttle her. “You went outside when you thought you saw a strange man?”

“I thought it was you. As strange as you may be, I don’t see you as a threat.”

He glanced up at her. The thought of her naked clouded his mind for a moment. Dolores is carrying my baby, he said to himself. “You don’t see me as a threat?”

She swallowed visibly, her hands holding onto each other. One booted foot tapped on the floor. “No.”

Her gaze didn’t waiver, but he didn’t believe her. Her body language said the opposite of her words. She sat with both feet on the ground, ready to take flight. He could smell her fear. Why did he make her afraid?

“Really.”

“At least not a physical one.”

He put down his pen. “Am I a threat in some other way?”

This could be good.

“No,” she said, too quickly.

He wasn’t going to crack this tough nut. How did she get that haunted look in those beautiful eyes? “What’d the guy look like?”

“You, I guess. Couldn’t see well. The moon was out, but the house cast a shadow and he stayed in it.”

“How close did you get?”

“Not very since he was gone by the time I went out. I heard a car start down the block.”

“You didn’t think to call the police?”

“I thought it was you. If I called the police, who would have believed me?”

“I see you have some trust issues with cops.”

She snorted. “You could say that.” With a deep sigh, she stood. “I have to get back to work.”

“You’re a medic?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t elaborate, but stared at him for a moment as if deciding to say something.

“I think Dolores is in danger.”

His radar went up. “Why? Did this guy do anything last night?”

“No, I just think she is.”

Great. He needed another psychic like a fish needed swimming lessons. “A feeling?”

She shrugged. “If you want to call it that.”

“Does your feeling have a name?” he asked, arms crossed over his chest.

“Nope.”

“Any ideas?”

She stood, her hand on her radio. “You.”

Chapter Four

Grace’s idea that Dolores was in danger propelled Zach to her house. He had to talk to Grace. If he had to shake the details out of her he would.

She answered the door in running shorts and a tank top. His gaze went down like an elevator then back to the top floor. Her breasts didn’t spill over the front of her shirt like Dolores’. Instead they remained discreetly behind her baggy top, daring him to imagine them.

And he spent a moment doing just that. How would they feel in his hands, on his chest, in his mouth?

Grace frowned at him. He shook himself from his daydreaming.

“We need to talk,” he said, brushing past her into her apartment. This was business. No ogling suspects.

The smell of pizza permeated the small room and Zach’s stomach rumbled. The protein bar had only held him part of the day.

“Come in, please. Don’t be bashful.”

She slammed the door. When she turned around her eyes held fire. “Who the hell are you to come barging in here?” The words escaped from between clenched teeth.

He pulled himself to his full height. He had no ulterior motives here. “I’m an ex-cop and you’ve informed me of a threat. One to someone close to me. I’m following up.”

A frown creased her forehead. She shook her head. “Forget I said anything.”

“Why? You changed your mind about hurting Lors?”

Her mouth dropped open. “I’m no threat to anyone.”

He leaned closer to her. She didn’t flinch.

She was a threat. To him. With her sea-green eyes and innocent face. Despite her hard attitude she could easily be a damsel in distress. The worst kind. The kind that didn’t know they needed to be saved until too late.

And he’d be just the chump to jump in be a knight. He gritted his teeth. Not this time.

“Why do you think there’s a threat to Dolores?”

Her shoulders rose as she drew in a deep breath. “I spoke out of turn.”

The words came out as a whisper that threatened to go away on the wind as if they’d never existed.

Why did she back down? “So there isn’t a threat? Then the guy on the driveway is after you?”

“Why would you think that?”

Her peachy scent permeated his nose, clouding his thoughts. He shook his head clear, then turned away from her. “Well he was either looking for you or Lors.”

“Maybe he had the wrong house.”

He whirled to look at her. One finger twirled her pony tail. Her usually pouty mouth formed a thin line.

“You don’t believe that. What aren’t you telling me?” he asked.

“Something you’d never believe in a million years. Who’s the father of Dolores baby?”

He squinted at her. “What? Why do you need to know that?”

Sighing she crossed to her couch and flopped down on it. “Have a seat.”

He did in an overstuffed chair across from her. “Talk.”

“What if I knew about something, but I can’t tell you how?”

“Oh, yeah. Some divine intervention.”

Her words pinned his bullshit meter.

She bit her lip. “Maybe.”

He leaned his elbows on his thighs. What kind of game was this lady playing? “Tell me the threat.”

“You won’t believe me.”

“Probably not, but at least I can show you that there is no threat.”

“Someone is going to kill Dolores, then set a fire to cover it up.”

Zach jumped from the chair, towering over her. His anger spiked. “Tell me who?”

“I don’t know,” she shouted.

She stood now, too. Her lips close enough to kiss.

Her scent intoxicated him so he couldn’t trust his instincts. Stepping back would have meant conceding in a battle that he didn’t know if it was love or war.

“Then how do you know she’s in danger?”

“I just do.”

He grabbed her arm. Her eyes went cloudy as she struggled to pull away. “Don’t touch me,” she hissed out.

Letting go he realize how hard he’d held her. Thankfully his fingertips hadn’t bruised her. “Sorry.”

The relief softened her face as she rubbed her arm. “It’s okay. You didn’t hurt me.”

He lowered his voice. “How do you know Dolores is going to be killed?”

“She told me.”

***

Grace waited for the laughter.

Instead, Zach’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. He sat down again. Or maybe his legs gave out. “Dolores told you.”

Her mother used to say, “In for a penny, In for a pound.”

She sat, then hugged a throw pillow to her chest. “Dead people talk to me.”

The statement hung in the air, passed gas no one wanted to notice, but everyone smelled.

“Oh, lovely. You psychic or something?” He scowled while his words dripped with disdain. For some reason, she wanted him to believe her story. Somehow he was a key to the whole situation.

“Or something.”

Zach stood and paced the short length of her apartment. Ripping off his suit jacket, he laid it gently on the back of his chair. His tie came off next. “You still have some of that pizza?”

She blinked. He wanted food? “Yeah. I can heat it up.”

“Do it.”

Her eyes blinked, but she stood to do his bidding.

She put two pieces in the oven and returned to her seat. He didn’t stop pacing. His firm jaw sat in place as if glued there. His eyes gained an intense, but faraway look.

“We had a psychic in last year to solve a case. She didn’t. She was a fraud. We wasted a lot of time and effort on her.”

He stopped abruptly. So there
was
more to his story.

“So you’re more than a garden variety skeptic?”

“You bet. You can’t imagine the hoops you’ll have to jump through to get me to believe you.” He sat on her coffee table, his knee scraping hers.

The room wobbled and she saw him in a different light. Naked and sweaty. And so was she.

“Grace?”

His voice brought her back. His knee had lost contact with hers. She jammed herself further into the couch so as not to risk his touch again.

“I’m here,” she said.

“Tell me what you think you know. We’ll start from there.”