Erotic Deception (20 page)

The ethereal mist evaporated over the portent of his meaning. In a violent move that surprised both of them; she broke free and slapped him hard across the face.

“He doesn’t support me now so why would it be a problem for her?” she cried. “I told you, the baby is yours.”

Jet swayed as if in pain.

“Liar!” he accused again, retaliating with a swing of his hand. Lily braced for the impact, but his aim drew back at the last second and a brush of air passed in front of her face. His breathing was hoarse and his face was bitter and grey.

The expression he cast severed all that had budded between them before he spun on his heel to slam out the door.

Chapter Thirteen

Her tears dry on her cheeks, Lily didn’t remember crying them nor sinking onto the floor to her knees. In her haze, all she could hear was Jet’s accusations reverberating against her heart.

How could he believe she could pass off another man’s child as his? The insult to her and ugly taint on their child kept knocking on the weak walls of her survival instincts.

In shallow breaths, Lily forced functionality into her numbed brain.

 
Where’s my car? That’s right. My house. I needed that. How can I get it? Mark… I’ll call Mark.

She pushed to her feet in search of her cell phone. Her composure slipped when his warm voice came on the line.

“Let me call Jet,” he said after her request.

“NO!” She shouted.

“Alright, alright. Calm down.” He gave a worried sigh. “I’m on my way.”

Lily remained ensconced in her nightmarish cloak until Mark arrived. He shot concerned glances all the way to the house and held off questions until they arrived.

“I still think we need to call Jet,” he reiterated. She shook her head. “Sweetie, there are things going on here you don’t know about.”

“I don’t care,” she snapped, and then bit into her bottom lip. “Please, Mark,” she broke off as communication split open the pain and she once again fought for control.

“Lily,” his voice was troubled.

“I’m begging you.” This time she looked straight at him and he flinched at the bruised irises.

“Okay, honey,” he relented. “But what are you going to do?”

“What I said. I’m going to get the rest of my things and leave.”

“But you can’t.”

“Watch me,” she all but screamed and put a shaky hand to her mouth and closed her eyes. Then more rationally, “Just help me do this okay?”

His mouth flattened. “Tell me what you need and I’ll get it.”

Her blank stare suggested he was the one acting crazy. “I need everything. I told you I’m leaving. For good.”

She got out of the car and entered the house, but Mark’s arm prevented her from going upstairs.

“You can’t go up there, it’s a crime scene.”

She tried to pull away. “It was only an animal.”

Mark looked worried at her flat response. “It was human,” he blurted out.

She looked at him feeling numb “What?”

Mark tipped his head to the ceiling. “Jet’s gonna kill me for telling you.”

“Screw, Jet, what do you mean it was human?”

“Maybe you’d better sit down,” he said and guided her into the kitchen. Lily followed, but didn’t sit.

“Talk to me, Mark,” she insisted.

“After Jet took you to his house I discovered drops of blood by the master bedroom closet. Fresh blood.”

“Blood?” The floor shifted beneath her. “Whose blood?”

“We’re not sure yet.” He licked his lips with uncertainty and then asked, “Do you know what luminal is?”

“It’s that stuff that detects blood after someone tries to clean it up.”

Not quite a smile, his mouth quirked at the raw definition.

“Exactly. After we ran the tests to determine the blood was human we waited until after dark to apply the luminal.” He paused and then, “We found more…a lot more around your bedroom. From what we can tell there was quite a struggle.”

Images of horror swept through her mind.

Lily lifted her chin to keep it from wobbling. “Do…” she started, but her voice cracked and she had to begin again. “Do you think someone was killed here?”

She held her breath for Mark’s answer and after hesitating, he nodded.

“Either that or critically wounded,” he said. “We don’t know much more than that. Jet’s calling some people he knows in the city.”

“Because Anthony might be involved,” she said, but it was as if another person was speaking. She shook her head and groped at the French doors. “I need some air.”

She didn’t wait for permission and exited out into the heat. She plopped down on the patio stairs. Her head fell into her hands and her fingers stretched up to rub into her scalp.

Was it possible for one nightmare to surpass another? Which was worse? The hatred of the man she loved or the idea that something very bad had happened in the same house she’d slept in. Analytically both were equal in their differences depending on the stress level of contemplation. The scenario of an emotional trauma generally usurped a physical injury as long as said injury of reference didn’t directly align with the subject involved.

A hysterical gurgle of laughter warned her she was losing it. She swallowed it away.

Hiding behind her training wouldn’t help this time. Where was the strength that had carried her through Jerry’s death? Not in Windom Hills, that was for sure.

Lily peered through her fingers at the lush green grass and could’ve wept for a mere smidgeon of normalcy.

Her gaze touched on the birdfeeder propped up against the house beneath the patio deck. Confusion puckered her brows beneath her fingers. The birds couldn’t reach the seed under there. Suddenly the importance of putting something in order was paramount.

She rose and stepped down to move it back to its original spot in the middle of the yard.

“Where are you going?” Mark’s voice reached her from the top of the stairs.

“Someone’s moved the birdfeeder,” she tossed over her shoulder.

“It’s not a good idea to touch anything. The entire house is a crime scene now and if a District Attorney is involved things are gonna get complicated.”

“I’m just putting it back where it was,” she said, grasping the ceramic bowl mounted on the pedestal.

It wasn’t that heavy and she tilted it and began rolling it away from the house. She jerked in her tracks when the wall shifted.

“Lily,” Mark protested, but then he too noted the cubbyhole opening in the wall. “What in the world?”

Lily sat the birdfeeder upright and approached the wall muttering, “This place is so weird.”

Mark’s curiosity overrode caution and he pulled at the opening.

“Oh crap! Lily, get back!” Mark shouted, but he was too late.

What looked like a man’s pant leg beckoned and as if drugged, Lily inched forward. Mark tried to grab her, but she evaded him.

A rupture of screams tore through her throat and the last thing Lily remembered was Mark’s arms circling around her.

* * * *

Twilight cast a glow over the lake and deepened the shadows around the crime scene. It also added fuel to Jet’s already black mood.

His cop’s detachment followed Capriccio’s lifeless arm flopping alongside the gurney over the terrain of the backyard. Even without his experienced immunity, Jet wouldn’t care about the other man’s death. As far as he was concerned, it pushed the earth’s exfoliation of evil to the underground.

“You know,” Agent Deke Sarnecky said, his eyes trailing after the corpse, “if I wasn’t your alibi two days ago I’d suspect you of slicing that grin into our fine District Attorney’s neck.”

His chubby-face grinned at the deadly look Jet shot him.

“Be careful,” Jet warned. “I still have pictures of you with a certain blonde doing some pretty dirty acts.”

Deke snorted. “You’re in those pictures too. Besides, college was a long time ago and sex isn’t against the law any more now than it was back then. I might even earn the reputation of being a ladies-man at the Bureau.”

“Maybe,” Jet conceded. “But it’s not those light-weights I’m thinking of.” A side of Jet’s mouth lifted at the fear in his friends eyes. “You answer to a much higher authority.”

Deke lifted a fat finger to pull at the tie bridging the gap in his collar.

“Abby would sentence me to the couch for a year,” he accused.

“Exactly. So don’t push me.”

“Jerk-off,” Deke muttered.

“Wanker,” Jet came back.

Deke chuckled. “Aren’t we candidates for the mutual admiration society?”

Jet sobered. “I hate having this puss festering in my backyard Deke. I left all this years ago to you guys in the city.”

 “You were the one with the hard-on for Capriccio this past month. Hell, what are you worried about? Thanks to you, I opened up an investigation against him. Do you think my superiors are going to reward me after all this?”

“I thought eliminating corruption was part of the FBI’s job?” Jet pointed out.

“It is,” Deke defended scratching his head. “But I gotta tell you that with drugs involved, the situation gets complicated ten-fold. Don’t get me wrong, there’s enough evidence on Capriccio to prove he was into some bad stuff, but if he got whacked stepping on the meth-balls of someone’s turf; it’ll be hard to get a conviction. These guys work in the dark and we need an underground team to expose them. That takes time.”

“What about the kids from the rehab center?” Jet asked.

Deke shrugged. “There’s one kid who’s pretty scared, but looks like he wants to talk. Capriccio’s death might open him up, but my inner-vibe tells me that the dirt won’t stray far from its immediate source.”

“Other than clearing Jerry Delaney’s name,” Jet inserted, “I don’t think I care whether or not Capriccio’s murder gets vindicated.”

Deke was silent for a moment and then almost reluctantly said, “You know I’ll have to interview Lily Delaney for this, don’t you?”

Jet’s head spun warily toward him. “You’re not including her as a suspect are you?”

The agent stuck his hand in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “You know everyone’s a suspect. Personally, I don’t think a woman could do this especially by herself. But I will need to talk to her.”

“It’ll have to be later,” Jet replied grimly. “She’s sedated at the hospital. Unlike you and me, she’s not used to this type of garbage. What about Bailer? Did you contact him?”

“I spoke with Fred Bailer earlier today,” Deke admitted. “A very interesting conversation indeed.”

“Do you like him as a suspect?” Jet asked. It would be a surprise to him if he did. Bailer was too much of a delicate flower for something like this. Hell, after meeting him it was inconceivable that Lily had asked for his help in the first place.

“Mr. Pansy-pants?” Deke shook his head. “He’s been out of the country for four months. It doesn’t make sense to show up out of the blue and kill a District Attorney. There’s no motive.”

“Are you sure he was out of the country for that long?” Jet asked.

Deke nodded. “I verified it myself.”

Sick reality sunk into Jet’s gut. Fred Bailer couldn’t be the father of Lily’s baby. Furthermore, since Capriccio shot blanks there was only one other rational conclusion and it pointed directly at him.

Had Denie gotten her information wrong or just flat-out lied. Why would she lie? Because of Celeste? Moreover, why had Lily spurned the idea of being pregnant after the condom broke? At Don’s bar, she’d stressed that assurance further.

“There’s another thing,” Deke cut in on the agony of Jet’s revelation. “Contrary to what you suggested, Bailer told me that Capriccio wasn’t what brought him to Windom Hills.”

He smirked at Jet’s sharp look.

“Apparently,” he went on to explain, “Bailer’s parents were in cahoots with some big-wig doctor who’s about to get a malpractice charge of prescription drug distribution and falsifying patient’s records. It’s a big scandal scheduled to hit the papers in the next few days.”

“What’s that have to do with Lily?” Jet asked, searching for some relevance. “Was Capriccio in on it?”

“No.” Deke scowled. “I told you, Bailer coming here had nothing to do with Capriccio. Bailer believed his ex-wife was contacting him because the family physician had fabricated her infertility.”

“What?”

“Crazy, isn’t it? How the power of money induces people to believe they have the right to manipulate others and ruin lives?”

Jet was dumbstruck at the inference. Deke incorrectly deduced that his friend wasn’t computing the context of his words and slapped a hand on Jet’s shoulder.

“To put it in simple terms Watson, thanks to a bunch of lies from a few sick-ass people, until just recently your Lily Delaney thought she was barren.”

* * * *

“Lily, wake up.”

Lily blinked her eyes open to Denie standing by her bed.