Don't Say a Word (24 page)
On the other hand, she had seen the way women looked at him. He was a sexy man, and she knew now that he was certainly adept at kissing a woman until she turned to jelly. He could have any woman he wanted. Why was he suddenly so interested in forging a relationship with her? Was she a challenge? Was that it? Down deep, she really didn’t believe that. He had treated her courteously, given her great respect the whole time they’d worked the case.
Okay, Julia, calm down. Time will tell.
Thing was, he might be right. After tonight, and those overwhelming kisses that left her so breathless, she might indeed have trouble keeping her hands off him.
Okay, Julia, calm down. Time will tell.
Thing was, he might be right. After tonight, and those overwhelming kisses that left her so breathless, she might indeed have trouble keeping her hands off him.
Later in bed, listening to the rush of the current, she relived the feel of his mouth again—those warm, eager, possessive, deep, penetrating kisses. Her body reacted. Furious with herself, she punched her pillow and flipped over. After about an hour of Julia’s tossing and turning, Jasper apparently had had enough. She felt him get up, jump off the bed, and pad off to the living room couch, no doubt seeking some peace and quiet. Julia groaned and wished she could do the same, but it was not until the early morning hours that she finally got Will Brannock off her conscious mind and dreamed about him instead.
Chapter 17
When Julia arrived at the TBI offices early the next morning, she hoped nobody commented on her puffy, bloodshot eyes. This time Visine had not done the trick; not even close. Surprised to find the full task force assembled inside the conference room, she poured herself a cup of strong black coffee and joined them. Will was standing at the head of the table. When he saw her at the door, he glanced away without acknowledging her. Okay, he was doing exactly what she had asked him to do. Then why did it bother her so much? Good grief, this guy was driving her crazy.
“Hey, Julia!”
Julia turned quickly and found Tam Lovelady motioning and pointing to the chair beside her at the long, shiny conference table. Glad to have somebody else to concentrate on, she hurried over and took the upholstered chair beside her CPD partner.
Tam looked her in the face and said, “Are you feeling all right, Julia? Got allergy problems?”
“No, I’m fine. Just couldn’t sleep last night.”
“I know how that is. Good news is, though, now that I’m finished testifying, the chief told me to get over here and help you guys out any way I can.”
“Great, Tam. We can use you, especially in the research you’re doing on Lockhart’s judicial decisions. He was on the bench for nineteen years. That’s a lot of files to go through.” Julia was pleased her new friend had come aboard on the case. Determined not to look at Will again, she listened intently while Tam filled her in on the status of the Rocking Chair murder trial.
“Your brother still hasn’t been called back, but they’ve told him they’re goin’ to, so he’s got to hang around. Talk about somebody champing at the bit. Audrey’s probably goin’ to be called, too.”
“J.D. told me something about Audrey’s involvement. It was pretty awful. A complicated case.”
“The Tongue Slasher is pretty terrible, too. Now y’all think he’s a serial, right?”
“Yeah. He used the same MO and the same mutilations on both the vics.”
“I know. I saw the crime scene photos Will’s got up there on the bulletin board. This guy’s a real psycho. What’s this meeting about?”
“I don’t know. Will didn’t mention it last night.”
Tam searched her face. “Last night? Are y’all goin’ out? J.D. keeps saying that Will thinks you’re really something special. That true?”
“C’mon, Tam. You know I can’t get involved with a partner. You wouldn’t, either, now would you?” Julia could not believe the interest everybody was showing in her and Will and their relationship. Good grief. Please, make it stop. She was having enough trouble resisting the guy without everybody in town pulling for a romance.
“I’m your partner, not Will. He’s just your liaison special agent on this case.”
“Technically. In any case, we all need to keep our minds nice and clear so we can find this killer.” She hesitated, not really wanting to continue any discussion of her or Tam’s love lives, or lack thereof, but she felt like she should ask about Marcus. “So, Tam, how are you and Marcus doing?”
Tam’s smile was quick, maybe even a bit self-satisfied. “I moved back into our house two nights ago. I was so glad to be home again. Living without a man is not all it’s cracked up to be.”
Tell me about it
, Julia thought. Thank goodness she had Jasper, although he had deserted her last night, the dirty dog. “I know one thing. Audrey’s going to be thrilled to death.”
, Julia thought. Thank goodness she had Jasper, although he had deserted her last night, the dirty dog. “I know one thing. Audrey’s going to be thrilled to death.”
“I know. We go back a long time. Lots of history.”
Both women stopped talking and turned to face the front when Will walked to the podium. He didn’t beat around the bush. He was a straight-to-the-point-so-shut-up-and-listen-up kind of guy. Julia was getting used to that. Will Brannock laid things on the line, like it or lump it. Julia liked it. Julia liked him, period. Especially after what happened last night.
“There’s now a third victim. From the initial report, everything points to the Tongue Slasher as the perpetrator.”
A low murmuring erupted around the table. Nobody had expected another murder so soon; not even Julia. The killer was speeding up his agenda. Why?
“The victim is a white female, a fifty-six-year-old defense attorney. Most of you will probably recognize her name. Gloria Varranzo. The CPD officer who got the call describes the MO exactly the same as the first two, down to the thirty dimes and identical scales. Detective Cass and I need to get over there right away. Tam Lovelady has joined the task force, and Tam, I’m assigning you to Varranzo’s law office. You need to question her partners and the staff before they get any details about what happened to Varranzo. We’ll need for those of you on forensics to get over to the crime scene at Varranzo’s residence ASAP. I’ve called the ME’s office already, and Pete Tipton’s probably already there, knowing him.” He paused but still didn’t look at Julia. “The rest of you continue with your assigned duties. We’ll apprise you of the evidence gleaned from the scene as soon as we finish the forensic investigation. And keep this quiet. The media’s salivating over this case since the CBS affiliate got that Lockhart murder video from the killer. Thank God, they only aired a little of it. They’ll try to pry every gory detail out of you. Don’t let that happen. Any questions?”
There were a few people who had questions about their assignments, and then the meeting was over. Tam stood up and said, “Call me later and fill me in on what you turn up at the Varranzo scene.”
Julia nodded and then sat and waited for Will to finish giving orders to a couple of special agents at the front of the room. He then had a quick conversation on his cell phone, after which he hung up quickly and headed in her direction.
“Your car or mine?” she said, trying to act normal and keep her eyes off his mouth when he answered. She ought to be ashamed of herself, at her age. Really.
“Mine. C’mon, we need to get over there.”
Will hardly looked at her. He was Brother Brusque this morning, no panting, no lusting, and all business, like nothing earth-shattering had ever happened between them. She wished she could do that kind of abrupt, brush-it-off thing, but she felt her face heating up, just being so close to him.
“When did the murder happen?” she asked him once they were inside his Hummer and fighting early morning traffic.
“Don’t know yet. Tipton can tell us more after we get there. I suspect it’s going to be identical to the first two, and that means no trace evidence.” He slapped his palm on the steering wheel. “Damn it, we should have nailed this guy already. We’re missing something. It’s out there, we just can’t see it.”
“I agree. It’s pertinent, of course, that it’s another court-affiliated official. We got a judge, a jerk radio jock who covered trials, and now a defense attorney. I’ve never heard of her. What kind of reputation does she have around here?”
“Well, I know her. In fact, I’ve had the misfortune of being a victim of her relentless and underhanded grilling. She’s a real barracuda.” Will didn’t look at her. He kept his eyes on the dark green Toyota Camry in front of them. “Want me to give you a couple of adjectives that describe Varranzo to a
T
? Well, here you go. Deadly, cutthroat, ruthless, unscrupulous. She attacked me with all guns blazing, but I’ve testified often enough to hold my own. It’s the untrained people, witnesses to the crime, neighbors of the victim, young, inexperienced criminalists; they’re the ones she really cuts to ribbons on the stand. I’ve heard that woman verbally eviscerate people in a way that should be a crime in itself. Trust me, she’ll do anything to win her case and get herself a big, fat check.”
T
? Well, here you go. Deadly, cutthroat, ruthless, unscrupulous. She attacked me with all guns blazing, but I’ve testified often enough to hold my own. It’s the untrained people, witnesses to the crime, neighbors of the victim, young, inexperienced criminalists; they’re the ones she really cuts to ribbons on the stand. I’ve heard that woman verbally eviscerate people in a way that should be a crime in itself. Trust me, she’ll do anything to win her case and get herself a big, fat check.”
“Well, that provides plenty of motives for plenty of people. Does she get her defendants off?”
“Most of the time. Her clients are usually celebrities or mobsters, anybody who’s got the big bucks and no scruples. And they’re usually guilty, and everybody knows it. I don’t see how she was ever able to live with herself.”
Will seemed uncharacteristically angry. She stole a sidelong glance at him. His face was in profile, his eyes focused on the road, but there was a tic in his cheek as his jaw clenched and unclenched under his tanned skin. His fingers were squeezing the steering wheel.
“You okay, Will?”
He glanced at her then, his dark eyes flashing fury. “I’m sick of seeing severed tongues on a weekly basis. I want to find this guy and put a bullet between his eyes.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Don’t I?”
“My, my, we are a bit cranky today, Special Agent Brannock.”
“Then again, maybe it’s just extreme sexual frustration. Seems like I’ve got myself a partner with ice water in her veins.”
Lord have mercy. He was wound up tight, and was he ever. Maybe he didn’t get enough sleep, either. And the ice water in the veins crack: if he only knew how laughable that one was. Calmly, she said, “I thought we agreed to wait until after this case was over.”
“You did. It sure as hell wasn’t my idea.”
“We have to stay focused, Will. This killer’s taking out people’s tongues for souvenirs, for God’s sake.”
After that sobering remark, they drove along in an unhappy silence. Will was just venting. She glanced over to see if steam was coming out of his ears, but she knew exactly how he felt. Last night didn’t help; it only complicated things, just as she knew it would. Sexual frustration was inside the truck, all right, slapping both of them around.
A few minutes later, Will said, his tone much more conciliatory, “Sorry. I didn’t sleep much last night.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t, either.”
Will frowned across the cab at her. “Good. I hope you paced the floor all night. Doesn’t sound like you’ve changed your mind about anything, though.”
Julia thought it better not to answer that. Truth be told, she wanted to change her mind and was fighting herself. They rode without speaking the rest of the way. Julia was already dreading walking into yet another gruesome crime scene. Will spent the rest of the ride on the phone with Phil Hayes.
As it turned out, Gloria Varranzo lived in a classic Victorian mansion on Lookout Mountain—on East Brow Road, to be exact, which was a very high-end residential street overlooking the city. Julia wasn’t familiar with the area, but Will managed to tell her that lots of attorneys and politicians lived in the vicinity. He wasn’t gnashing his teeth anymore, either, so he was feeling better. The neighborhood was not gated, but it should have been. Julia had never seen so many Mercedes, Cadillacs, BMWs, and even one sleek, black Lamborghini.
A significant portion of East Brow Road was taped off. She bet that raised the hackles on all the uppity, well-to-do home owners. They were probably choking on their caviar at the inconvenience. Will pulled up to the driveway and stopped the car near the front door. The house was huge, probably six or seven thousand square feet. They got out and walked along low hedges lining the front sidewalk. There was one gigantic oak tree on the front lawn; the rest of the yard was well-maintained grass and shrubbery. The house itself looked like something out of a benevolent Grimms’ fairy tale. The south side had a three-story round turret that rose above the wide porch. They could see Gloria Varranzo’s body hanging outside from a white curlicue banister on one of the second-floor porches. She wore a belted white silk robe that was stained dark with blood. A lot of blood. She had on one white, high-heeled slipper. An identical shoe was lying on the grass far below her body. A tech was dusting it for fingerprints while another man was photographing it and the brass scales sitting beside it. The dimes were stacked on the right-hand side, as at the other crime scenes. Part of Gloria Varranzo’s tongue bloodied the other side.
“He’s silenced another one of his enemies,” Will said, shaking his head. “This could be the break we need.”
“How so?”
“If we can come up with a case where Varranzo was the defense lawyer and Lockhart was the judge, we might isolate some leads on who’s out for revenge.”
Julia nodded. “That could be dozens of cases. They’ve both been in the Hamilton County court system for ages.”
“We could get lucky.”
“We’d better. Let’s see what he left for us this time.”
Inside, they found out. The Tongue Slasher left them a truckload of blood all over the place. More than at any of the other crime scenes. It seemed as if Varranzo had put up more of a struggle than the two male victims. There was blood in the main foyer, spattered all over the oversized black-and-white tiles. A giant crystal chandelier hung directly above a round marble-topped table, which was the only furniture in the room. A tall, expensive Lalique crystal vase sat atop it, full of fresh white orchids and white English roses. A painting that looked like a genuine Monet hung on the curving, cream-colored wall along the glossy and intricately carved wood staircase.
“Is that real?” Julia asked Will, pointing to the painting.
“I would say yes. When I talked to her law offices this morning, they said her fees went six figures, and usually higher than that.”
They spoke to the forensic techs on the stairway, where they stopped and slipped on their protective gear. Upstairs, a long hallway with white wainscoting stretched out in both directions. Will turned right. Julia followed, slightly spooked by the huge house that seemed to crouch down over them, totally, completely, creepily silent. Not even the forensic guys were saying anything.
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