Daddy's Little Killer (29 page)

Another memory filtered through.  I
replaced my stolen laptop yesterday morning and installed the
software that would let me work on the fly whenever I damn well
pleased.  I stumbled out of bed with renewed
determination.

Somebody put me to bed in my
underwear.  I was not amused.  The robe was flung over
the end of the bed.  I grabbed it with a vengeance.  I
shoved my arms into the silky sleeves and stomped out of the
bedroom.  Fine, it was less of a stomp and more of a
hobble.

Orion's brows arched, comical with
disapproval.  "I thought I told you to go back to bed."

The urge grew ridiculous
to throw out a petulant
you're not the
boss of me
.  Ignoring him was so much
more mature.  I steered in the general direction of his
office.  My laptop was exactly where I left it.  Inside
were the fax copies of the reports Sergeant Sexist had sent from
Portico.

I glanced at my wrist.  Naked. 
"Where's my Rolex?"

"On the stand beside your bed."

"Oh.  Well what time is it?"

"Two-ish."

"Don't you have a
thing
to do today? 
Or a girl?"

His stomp was far more effective than
mine.  I felt an uncontrollable urge to cower away from
it.  Orion squatted in front of me.

"The only
girl
I have a thing with
today is you.  I'm not letting you out of my sight from now
on, Doc.  Got it?  I'm not letting the FBI fail to
protect you.  I'm not letting Kelly and Varden near you for
another shot at doing whatever it is they did to you
yesterday."

I opened my mouth to protest and shrunk away
from the determination in his eyes. 

"Mean it, Doc.  If I have to cuff you
to my wrist, I'll do it."

"This is false imprisonment.  I could
arrest you."

"You think you're in any condition to throw
down with me today?  Go ahead.  Try it.  And after
you fall on your ass, try convincing me that someone didn't do this
to you."

"If you're so damned concerned, why didn't
you take me to the hospital?"

"I came this close to it," his thumb and
index finger were scant millimeters apart.  "Winslow seems to
think you brought this on yourself with stress, sleep deprivation
and over use of stimulants to keep you going."

"Exhibit A, the coffee pot?"

His head rolled forward.  "Why do you
have to be so impossible, Helen?  Is it really that awful that
in a few short days, you managed to burrow under my skin and become
someone I care about a whole hell of a lot?"

"I don't want my case to fall apart because
I did something stupid."

"It's not gonna fall apart."

"We're beyond 48 hours out, Johnny." My
throat tightened with a wad of gravel that miraculously appeared
out of nowhere.  "It matters.  You know it as well as I
do."

Another memory enveloped me.  Orion's
eyes sparked it.  His tender gaze gripped my heart and
squeezed so hard, I couldn't breathe.

"Why won't you trust me?  I want to
help you, Doc.  Let me help you.  You know I didn't do
anything to Gwen.  I couldn't."

"Protocol –"

"Be damned!  Let me help you." 
Soft, succinct and utterly effective. 

I felt the walls crumbling more than a
little bit.  He gripped my hands.

"Please?"

"I can't share details with you,
Johnny.  It wouldn't be right.  You know that.  I
know you understand what I'm saying."

"Then let me help with other stuff."

"Like what?  There isn't any other
stuff right now."

His thumbs rubbed slow circles over the
backs of my hands.  "I can make sure nobody hurts you.  I
can make sure you're properly fed and watered."

I snorted.  "You make me sound like a
potted plant."

"You kinda acted like one last night. 
Doc, it scared the hell outta me."

"You could move my luggage to the
house."

"That's the one thing I'm
actually
not
willing to do," he grumbled.

"I can't stay here
indefinitely.  You know that too.  You've got
business.  I've got work.  You don't want me hanging
around cramping your style, interfering with your
thing.
"

"That wasn't what I said, or meant."

I pulled my hands free, surprised to miss
the warm pressure so quickly and the caring their sheath
communicated.  "I'll make a deal with you."

He frowned.  "I wasn't aware that this
had become a negotiation."

"All of life is a negotiation, Johnny. 
This is our pact, if you prefer.  I'll stick around here and
take it easy for the rest of the afternoon.  I'll eat, and
drink and rest if you tell me to rest."

"I like it so far.  Go on."

"If, by early evening, we can both agree
that I show measurable improvement in my physical functioning,
you'll agree to let Charlie and me talk to my ... person of
interest, who is in no way a suspect, but could be the piece that
moves this case forward to a swift resolution.  After that
conversation, which I can 99 percent guarantee will last no longer
than an hour, I promise to come back here and let you play the
doting caretaker for the rest of the night."

"It's the middle part I don't like."

"Meet me half way."

"No more than an hour, including
transportation."

"Johnny –"

"Those are my terms.  Take it or leave
it.  You could preserve your time with this person of interest
by having Charlie bring him here, you know.  I'd even make
myself scarce for an hour and ten minutes, so his identity won't be
revealed."

"I'd rather not."

"Then meet across the street at
central."

"I would
really
rather
not."

"LaPierre Bistro is next
door to the Tower.  It's quiet, intimate, a great place for
having a discussion without eavesdropping."  He paused for
dramatic effect, I presumed.  "Meet
me
half way, Doc."

"Fine," I sighed.  "But if I can't have
the benefit of talking to my person of interest in his or her
natural habitat, there are no physical functioning conditions
attached to this meeting.  You'll let me call Charlie right
now and have him set it up."

He grinned.  "You are one hell of a
negotiator, Doc.  Damn."

"Deal?"  I thrust my hand out to make
it official.

"You wanna swap spit in that handshake or
what?"

For some inexplicable reason, his suggestion
conjured the image of the kiss that almost was Monday night. 
I realized that part of me would love nothing more than turn back
the clock and let it unfold without interruption.  Then again,
it was his world that intruded on a moment long gone.

Chapter 27 

Charlie Haverston showed
up at Johnny's penthouse around four-thirty.  He has the eyes
of a cow.  Large.  Milk chocolate brown.  Lashes out
to
here
.  If
it were possible for eyes to have a lazy southern drawl, Charlie's
would do it.  Moo.

He's a sweet kid, in reality. 
Kid.  He's probably ten years younger than me, fretting over
thirty creeping up while his dreams of a detective squad waste
away. 

His concern was more than touching. 
The impact of my ordeal was far more profound coming from a man who
hadn't professed how much he wanted to get into my pants.  Or
lied to me.  Or got bossy and territorial with my personal
freedom.  I could go on. 

Those drawling orbs followed me across the
living room toward Orion's den.  There was no faltering gait,
no dizziness, no pauses to catch my breath.  The hearty lunch
Orion ordered was delivered by the very bistro that Charlie and I
would later grace with our interview of Caroline Blevins.

"You're sure you're up to this, Helen?"

"I'm fine.  Do I look like I had the
sense knocked out of me last night?"

"No, but –"

"I am fine, well rested, at least two pounds
heavier from lunch.  Stop worrying already.  Maya called
to check on me about an hour ago, and even our resident expert on
death is convinced that whatever happened to me has passed."

"If you're sure."

"I'm positive.  Talk to me
Charlie.  What's happened since our last coherent update?"

"Do you remember me telling you about the
key Forsythe found at the crime scene?"

"Yes.  You were sending Thieg to scour
possible locks it might open."

"Right."

"Did he turn up anything positive?"

"No.  It's not a bank key or one that
opens a locker at the airport or bus station."

"Well, I can't say that I'm surprised. 
Until we know the identity of the person it belonged to, it's
probably a moot point.  Unless of course, it had opened a
locker at the bus station and there was information that would've
identified him for us."

"Well, that's the thing, Helen.  We
were sitting around at the crime lab last night brainstorming with
Forsythe, and you're never gonna believe who showed up outta the
blue."

"Who?"

"Flynn Myre."

"Is that a fact?  Two nights this week
he's strayed from home away from the wife.  My, my.  I'm
probably making enemies I'm not even aware of in this city."

"Don't joke about that."

"Sorry.  So what was Myre doing
sniffing around?  Wait, I think I just answered my own
question.  It's probably eating the three amigos that this
case was taken out of their hands, so Myre draws the short
toothpick and gets to spy on our investigation."

"Thing is, we had the photo of the key
laying out in plain sight."

"Fantastic.  I'll bet it's splashed on
the front page of the morning edition."

"Myre thought it looked like a key to a home
safe."

My interest piqued.

"And so Thieg started making some calls this
morning.  Turns out that the key looks like it opens a secure,
but fairly cheap safe.  It opens with two keys.  So we
went back to the house over lunch hour and tore through the place
again."

"You found a second key?"

He nodded.  "Forsythe's got it now, but
this one had numbers that were clearly readable."

"Like I said, when we get a suspect, now we
know to ask for the contents of the personal safe in the
warrant."

"Datello called late last night, after I
left here."

"Oh dear.  I had almost forgotten about
poor Vinnie.  Did you talk to him?"

"No, I wanted to wait for you.  I mean,
didn't you say that his information about Gwen could tell you a lot
that might help catch her killer?"

"Yes," I said, "but Charlie, this
investigation can't hinge on my availability."

"He's coming in to talk to us first thing in
the morning.  I was able to meet with him for an initial chat
when his flight landed.  He knows why we want to talk to
him.  I hope that's okay."

"It's fine.  You did the right
thing."

"Datello wanted to drive him home, but I
insisted and took him out to the Bennett farm myself.  Did you
know that he's got an uncle living?"

"No one close to the family bothered to
mention that.  Is this another Bennett brother?"

"No, his name is Harlan Hartley. 
Apparently he's a maternal uncle who became close to the family
after Vinnie's parents died when he was an infant.  He'd like
to be present when we talk to Vinnie.  I said that would be
left to your discretion."

"I'd like to talk to both of them,
Charlie.  Good job."

"Adams has been trying to find Candy
Blevins."

I blew out a slow breath.  "Any
luck?"  As the afternoon progressed, parts of Thursday became
clearer to me.

A cell phone rang before Charlie had the
chance to respond.  He checked his.  "Sorry, Helen, it
must be yours."

"That's not what my phone sounds –"

Orion appeared out of nowhere and thrust a
new phone under my nose.  "The other one is history.  I'm
not having these guys tracking a phone I doubt is secure,
Doc.  I trust the Apple brand meets your standards."

And he accused
me
of being
impossible.  Still, the iPhone was a nifty looking gadget, and
I had boycotted PCs more than a decade ago in favor of the
Mac.  I slid my finger across the glossy screen and held the
phone to my ear.  "Eriksson."

"Took you damn long enough to answer. 
I was about to dash out the door and make sure you're all right,
and, if finding you were not, brain Orion for not calling me
immediately."

"Maya."

"I've got some DNA in front of me. 
Interested in hearing the results?"

"Like you wouldn't believe.  What did
you find out?"

"Seventeen sexual assaults reported in a 50
or so mile radius around Bay County where DNA was collected were
compared to the sample I obtained from Gwen Foster's body. 
Fourteen identical matches."

"Jesus.  A dozen plus two."

"Yep.  So I got to thinking that your
brilliance might actually overshadow some of mine."

"You found
more
?"  I could
hear my watch ticking, which is impossible, because Rolexes don't
tick, they sweep.  "Would you stop being a drama queen and
tell me already?"

"Well, as you know in the grand scope of
science, particularly forensics, we haven't been gathering DNA all
that long."

"You didn't get any hits."

"No, but I did comb through the ViCAP cases
on the fourteen matches and uncovered some disturbing
similarities."

"Such as?"

"Not important for now.  What I did was
alter your search just a tad bit, expanded the upper age limit by
four years."