Everywhere She Turns (42 page)

Shelley’s life needed to be celebrated. What better place to do it than here, with the people who’d shared that life with her?

815 Wheeler Avenue, HPD, 2:00
PM

Huntsville’s almighty were all present: the chief, the mayor, the district attorney himself, and select members of the city council.

All wanted the same thing.

“I don’t care what it takes,” Mayor Newman reiterated, “you find Tyrone Nash and you arrest him. No one sleeps until he’s in custody. I want him charged with five counts of murder.”

The chief said nothing, nor did the DA.

Great. “Sir,” Braddock broached, “with all due respect, we have no evidence connecting Nash with a single one of these murders.”

Beside him, Cooper shifted. Braddock didn’t look at her. He knew she would have kicked him had they not been standing at attention before the conference table lined with the city’s gods.

The chief cleared his throat, which meant he would be talking to Braddock later. “I feel confident Detectives Braddock and Cooper can find the necessary evidence to obtain a warrant for his arrest.”

“It won’t take that much,” District Attorney James Ayers suggested. “All we need is enough to charge him; the jury will take care of the rest. Folks are sick to death of men like Tyrone Nash. Dr. Cost’s father and grandfather have learned of the fiasco
involving the questioning of Carter Cost. They’re out for blood.”

Translation: they’d heard about Braddock’s coercion. If Cost wanted to avoid charges, he would help reel Nash in. Braddock had badgered him into going for the deal.

“So, finding the real killer isn’t the goal here.”

Cooper inched her sneakered foot onto the toes of Braddock’s loafers and pushed hard.

The fury that blazed across the faces lining that conference table would have melted steel.

“Do your job, Braddock,” the chief warned, “or find another one. This case will be closed with the arrest and prosecution of Tyrone Nash. The
Huntsville Times
raked this department over the coals this morning. Tomorrow’s headlines will read entirely differently. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.” That certainly didn’t give them a lot of time.

“Detectives,” the chief said, looking from Braddock to Cooper and back, “you are dismissed. I don’t want to see your faces again until Nash is in a holding cell.”

Braddock executed an about-face and walked out of the room. Cooper followed. Neither spoke until they were outside headed across the parking lot.

He stopped at his car, glared at Cooper across the top. “Thanks for the support,
partner
.”

She scoffed. “Like there was any point arguing with those assholes.”

Braddock shook his head. This investigation could not turn into a political circus. And yet that was exactly where it was headed. The mayor would not allow the city’s reputation to be tarnished with these murders. It might affect tourism or the government’s consideration of Huntsville as a prime location for military and space research facilities.

“You heard the order the same as I did,” Cooper reminded. “So, what do you say?”

“I say fuck ’em. Nash needs to be found and questioned.” He sent a look at Cooper that warned there would be no negotiations. “But he isn’t our killer.”

“When did you decide that?”

“When I got a long, hard look at Cost’s puny penis,” he tossed back. “Nash doesn’t think that way. All this staging is far too sophisticated and time-consuming for his methods. Look at the vics we know belong to him. Like Celeste Martin. Simple, straightforward. Make the mark, do the kill. No games, no fucking this-is-your-life venue.”

She shrugged. “I guess we look for a different killer. God knows we have loads of suspects and evidence.”

Braddock slid behind the wheel of his G6. “That’s why we need Nash.”

Cooper fastened her seatbelt and sent him a sidelong look. “You just said Nash isn’t our guy.”

“Nash makes it his business to know what’s going on in
his
village. He knows something. That’s most likely why he’s gone into hiding. We have nothing on him. He’s not afraid of us. But he is afraid of whoever is behind these murders.”

“You got a point, partner.”

“All we have to do is find him and that video.”

“Easier said than done.”

No shit.

But first Braddock needed to talk to CJ. She needed to stay off the streets.

This, whatever
this
was, was about her. She was either the next victim or the trophy the winner expected to take home.

904 Williams Street, 3:05
PM

“Detective Braddock is here.”

CJ looked up from her work. Edward waited near the French doors. Her heart thumped at hearing Braddock’s name. “Okay. Thanks.” She set her notes aside and stood. She’d escaped to the sun porch to think. To try to make sense of all this tragedy. She’d made a list of all the victims and how they were tied to Nash as well as what he might have hoped to gain by eliminating each of those victims.

As she entered the long hall leading to the front of the house with Edward, he hesitated. “Will you be all right?”

She couldn’t help smiling at the worry etched across his face. He was still fretting about her going to the party on Dubose Street tonight. He insisted he would have gone with her had he not already been obligated to attend the library’s board meeting. He didn’t want her out of his sight. He was as bad as Braddock.

“I’ll be fine. Detective Braddock may have news about the investigation. Hopefully this will all be over soon.”

“Very well. I’ll be in my library.”

CJ hurried through the den and entry hall. Braddock waited in the parlor. The urge to run into his arms was nearly overwhelming. “You have news?” Maybe the killer had finally screwed up and left evidence at the scene of his latest murder.

“Unfortunately not.” Braddock shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “I just came by to check on you.”

Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows she noticed that Cooper waited in Braddock’s car. “You’re on your way somewhere?”

“We’re working on rounding up Nash for questioning.”

CJ moved a few steps closer to the man whose mere presence took her breath. “You still believe Tyrone is the killer?” She knew he’d killed Celeste. But the others . . . she wasn’t so sure. She kept trying to connect the dots, but the puzzle wasn’t coming together.

“I don’t think he is.” Braddock shook his head. “But the chief and the mayor are determined to nail someone for these murders, particularly since the Cost family is . . .” He shrugged. “Well, the Cost family. He wants this wrapped up. If Cooper and I don’t find Nash first, he may end up dead no matter who finds him.”

“Oh.” CJ knew all too well how the politics of any organized situation worked. She dealt with that in the hospital. The first cop to spot Nash the suspect was either going in or going down. She understood that as well. Without Nash to question, they might never know the truth. “You’ll keep me up to speed on what’s going on?”

“I will. That’s part of the reason I stopped by.”

Her heart sank a little. She’d hoped he had stopped by just because he wanted to see her.
Foolish, CJ. Truly foolish
.

“I need you to promise me that you’ll stay right here. No going out for anything. You’re safe here. Abbott has a state-of-the-art security system and I doubt that he’ll take his eyes off you for more than an instant at any given time.”

A frown furrowed its way across her forehead. “You think I have reason to be afraid? I mean, if it’s not Nash, why would I be in danger?”

He closed the final steps between them, took her by the arms, and peered down at her with such earnestness that her chest constricted. “I don’t believe these murders are about the victims or anything they did or didn’t do. I think this whole thing is about you . . . somehow. I need you to promise me you won’t do anything foolhardy.”

“I’ll stay here.” She braced for his reaction. “Except the women on Dubose Street are having a celebration for Shelley and Celeste tonight. I promised I would stop by.” Before he could argue, she offered, “I thought maybe Jenkins could go with me. He can come inside and stay right next to me if that will make you more comfortable.”

Braddock shook his head. “I don’t think it’s safe for you to be outside this house at all.”

CJ rested her hands on his arms. “If this is about me, as you suggest, the killer will try to get to me no matter where I am. Look at Carter. He was locked away inside his home and the killer still got to him. I have to do this, Braddock. It’s important to me.”

He exhaled a heavy breath. “All right. But Jenkins will be armed and you aren’t to leave his sight. We’ve got two uniforms watching Nash’s house, so they’ll be close by as well.”

CJ nodded. “Thank you.”

Braddock hugged her, held her close to his chest. She felt his heart beating. Wished she could stay in his arms like this forever. But he couldn’t do his job with her in the way.

He kissed her forehead. “I’ll check in with you every couple of hours. There will be a cruiser out front. And Jenkins is on the porch.”

She nodded.

Then he kissed her lips. One of those slow, sweet kisses he was so good at.

She wanted this investigation over.

For the first time in her life, she wanted something more than her career.

She wanted a real life. And she wanted this man to be a part of it. On what level she didn’t know just yet. But she wasn’t letting go of what felt like a good thing.

One her sister had recognized way before CJ had.

Maybe there were a few things CJ could learn from her sister’s life.

Live for the present . . . not the future.

Dallas Mill, 7:08
PM

Where the hell was that motherfucker at?

Tyrone paced back and forth in the warehouse.

He’d come in alone, just like he’d been told. Well, he appeared to be alone. That would have to be enough.

Tyrone wasn’t no fool. He never went anywhere alone. He’d sent his two most trusted men, two-thirds of his trinity, here to take up positions an hour before his scheduled arrival. His driver waited in the Escalade.

Wasn’t nobody pulling no shit over on him. Too many dead bodies piling up lately.

“What the hell?” he muttered as he checked his Rolex. That motherfucker was supposed to have been here at seven sharp. It was ten after.

Too fucking dark in here. Couldn’t hardly see shit. He’d left the loading dock doors open wide enough to let some light from the street filter in, but it was still too fucking dark.

A rusty creak echoed in the darkness.

Tyrone turned toward the sound, tried to see through the dark.

“That you, motherfucker?” He wasn’t playing no games with this asshole.

A rolling sound told him the dock doors behind him was
being pushed closed. He whipped around. The narrow beam of light from the street disappeared as the door slammed shut.

He snatched the 9 millimeter outta his waistband. “You don’t want to pull no shit on me,” he warned. “I got the video. You fucked if you mess with me.”

A footstep, then another . . . coming closer.

Shit. What the fuck? “You better talk to me ’fore I start shooting.”

A click echoed and a blinding light hit him square in the eyes. Tyrone tried to shield his face with his hand.

“Where’s the video?”

“You got the money?” Tyrone demanded.

“The tape,” the voice pressed. “It wasn’t in your SUV.”

What the hell was he talking about? “Ain’t no way you been in my Escalade.” Bullshit.

“You mean because of the ape behind the wheel?”

The beam of light circled around Tyrone’s face. He backed up a few steps. “That’s right. My man woulda killed your ass if you’d come near my Escalade.”

“That would have been very difficult for him to do, considering he’s dead.”

Fear slammed into Tyrone’s chest. “Antoine! Jerome!”

“They’re dead, too,” the voice warned. “It’s quite thrilling how quickly a man bleeds out if you open up the proper artery.”

“You dead, motherfucker.”

Something hit him in the chest. Tyrone hesitated. Tried to see what the hell it was.

The jolt of electricity loosened his fingers on the gun. It clattered to the floor. Tyrone tried to speak but his mouth wouldn’t work.

Another jolt hit him.

He crumpled to the floor.

The footsteps came closer and closer. The beam of light shone straight down in his eyes, but he couldn’t close them. Couldn’t even blink.