Love Inspired Suspense April 2015 #1 (49 page)

“Okay, Mel. I ordered a warrant to look at the security disks. The team has arrived and is going over every square inch of your aunt's room for evidence.” Not that they'd find much.

“Why don't you sound confident?” Mel asked.

He sighed. He hadn't been as good at hiding his doubts as he'd thought.

“Your aunt died last night. They've already cleaned the room. Since she was in coma already, the doctor on call declared that she died of natural causes so no one thought to take any precautions to preserve the room. The one good thing is that there wasn't a new patient assigned to the room yet. Any way you look at it, though, it's not very likely the team will find any new evidence. So let's hope the security disks will.”

They waited for an hour before the warrant arrived. They watched the monitors in silence as various nurses and staff walked past the room. Every now and then the camera caught a nurse entering the room. She'd check vitals and mark the chart. After half an hour, the man they knew as Dr. Ramirez entered the room. He checked the vitals and marked the chart, same as the nurses had. Then he glanced over his shoulders at the door. Keeping his eyes on the door, he slipped a hand inside his coat and pulled out a long needle and attached a vial to it. He moved over to the IV and injected the liquid. Pocketing the vial and needle, he sauntered back to the door and exited. The camera clearly showed him talking for several seconds with the security guard before walking to the elevator. A minute later, the entryway camera caught him, now dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, leaving the building.

“There's our guy,” Jace murmured. He rubbed the back of Mel's hand with his thumb. All at once he realized what he was doing and dropped her hand. He casually leaned forward as if needing to see the screen better. He wasn't sure why he wanted to mask his attempt to keep his distance, other than he didn't want to hurt her feelings.

“There's something familiar about that guy. Don't know what. Maybe it'll come to me on the drive.”

ELEVEN

M
elanie had been none too pleased when Jace informed her that he would be traveling to Pittsburgh alone. Oh, sure, she knew he would accomplish more without her, especially in a police station where everyone would see her as nothing more than a convict. She would have been in the way. In her mind, she understood that. In her heart, though, she was uncomfortable being away from him. Until that moment, she hadn't realized just how safe he made her feel.

She could not fall into that trap again. Yes, she trusted Jace. He was a brave man, a man who took his call to protect and serve seriously. But he was still a man. She needed to put her trust in God. He would care for her. She wouldn't let herself need anyone else.

A sigh left her. She could no longer procrastinate. Jace had contacted Paul that morning before he left. Mel knew that two officers would be with her most of the day. She had reluctantly let Jace convince her to allow Irene to deal with most of the funeral arrangements. Mel was of two minds about that. On the one hand, she was grateful that she didn't need to be out and about by herself on such a gloomy mission. On the other hand, she felt she owed her aunt so much, and now she would never be able to repay her.

Still, she was alive. Her aunt would not approve of her moping around when there were things to be done.

Her steps were sure when she walked into the bright kitchen for lunch. She was pleasantly surprised to see Irene sitting at the table reading the newspaper, a fresh carafe filled with coffee in front of her.

“Hi.” Jace's sister greeted her with a warm smile. “Have a cup and I'll tell you our plans for the day.”

Melanie raised her eyebrows. “Oh? Do we have plans?” Not very hungry, she popped a bagel into the toaster and poured herself a steaming cup of coffee. She couldn't resist bringing the cup to her face to inhale its rich fragrance. Even if she had hated the taste, she would have still loved the aroma. Good thing she liked coffee.

Irene gave a vigorous nod. “Of course. I figured you probably need to get out of my mother's house. We are going shopping.”

“Oh, Irene, that's so sweet. But Jace—”

“But Jace nothing. My dear brother is at his protective best. He told me you were in danger. I understand that. I called the department and got us our own personal bodyguard. Some newbie named Miles is coming with us. And another officer will meet us at the mall.”

Melanie shook her head, doubt creeping into her eyes. “I don't know, Irene. It seems so silly, going shopping now. My aunt just died, you would be putting yourself at risk...”

Irene stood and swept across the room to Mel. Her expression serious, she placed her hands on Mel's shoulders.

“Melanie, I know this is a trying time for you. I don't mean to make light of the situation. But you can't stop living. You will be in an open public place, and there will be a police car directly behind us at all times and two officers dogging our every step.” Mel wavered. It sounded as though all the necessary precautions were in order. Irene hugged her. When she stepped back, her eyes were filled with compassion. “And honey, the shopping trip is not silly. There is sure to be a huge crowd, not to mention media, at your aunt's funeral. You need something to wear that actually fits you.”

Okay, that made sense.

“Besides, think of how disappointed Miles will be if we don't go! I fully expect him to have the sirens going the whole way up, he's so excited about being given such an important duty.”

Laughing softly, Melanie shook her head. “I almost feel sorry for him. The kid is so new, he squeaks. But he seems sincere.”

Satisfied, Irene smiled. “Then it's settled. Go get dressed and we will be on our way to the mall. You are in desperate need of a new wardrobe. Maybe we can get you something fun, too. Like possibly an outfit to make my brother's head swim.”

“Irene!”

Irene snorted. “Don't ‘Irene' me. I see the way you two look at each other. And I think it's great. It's about time my brother let himself feel something more than duty.” Sadness touched her pretty face. “And I hate the way he blames himself for Ellie's death.”

“How could that possibly have been his fault?”

“Oh, sweetie, deep inside he feels that he should have been able to protect her—or at least figure out what was wrong in time to get her some help. She was his baby sister, but in many ways he was a father to her after our dad died. He tried to be a father to us both. I was twelve, but Ellie was only eight.”

The image of Jace as he was at her trial came to mind. Forbidding, angry and somehow broken. She hadn't understood the turmoil he had felt, but she had sensed it. Now she mourned for his grief.

Mel set her brush down just as Miles pulled into the driveway. Grabbing her purse and coat, she hurried down the stairs so that he wouldn't be kept waiting. He was such a sweet guy. He almost tripped over his own feet in his eagerness to take her arm so she wouldn't slip on the ice. There was nothing kid-like in the way he handled his car, however. He expertly wove in and out of traffic. Even though the traffic in Erie could be heavy, his car was behind theirs every time she looked back. Mel was impressed in spite of herself.

As she and Irene chatted on the drive, she admitted to herself how much she had missed this, having another woman to talk with. The fact that Irene was so willing to overlook her past was a huge blessing. Melanie felt free to talk without fear that she would somehow say something that would make her listener walk away in disgust.

At the mall, she tried to ignore the stares and whispers when someone recognized her, no doubt from the newspaper photos from the day she was released. The first time someone pointed at her, she actually cringed. She sneaked a peek at Irene to see her reaction. Irene acted as if she hadn't noticed a thing, but Mel saw her jaw clench. Expecting Irene to call an early halt to their adventure, she was pleasantly surprised when the other woman proceeded into yet another store, the two officers falling into step behind them. “Come on, let's find you something.”

Find something they did. It was a soft black dress that fell in graceful folds to Mel's calves. It was modest and subdued. Perfect for a funeral. What she hadn't expected was the way it made her look. Regal. She looked regal. She lifted her chin and allowed the corners of her mouth to lift. There. A perfect smile. Not happy, not cheeky. But confident enough to help her brave those at the funeral.

“How does it look, girlfriend?” Irene called through the door. “Let me see.”

Feeling shy, Mel opened the door. Irene clapped her hands, delight written all over her face.

“Oh, my brother's gonna forget his own name,” she gloated.

“Irene, that's not why we're shopping,” Mel reminded her knew friend softly.

Irene cast her an ashamed look. “Sorry. Guess that was thoughtless. But—” she slid a sly look at Mel “—I still think you're going to make his eyes cross.”

“You don't believe I did it, do you?” The moment the question left her lips Mel wanted to call it back. Irene, however, was already answering.

“I never have. Even during the trial.” She saw the question in Mel's eyes. “Jace was too tormented. Too torn. I could tell he was second-guessing himself. And I know he was under pressure to close the case. He thought he was letting Ellie's death distract him from the truth. But Jace doesn't get distracted. His instincts are usually right on.”

Melanie threw her arms around her new friend's neck.

“Thank you,” she choked.

“You're welcome,” Irene whispered back, her own voice cracking. Then she cleared her throat and pushed Mel back, a teasing smile on her pretty face. “Now I want to go try on some shoes. Why don't you go back into the dressing room and change, then come join me.”

“Shoes? You bet!”

Back in the changing room, Mel quickly changed out of the elegant dress, determined not to keep Irene waiting.

A gentle knock on the door interrupted her musing.

“Miss?” a soft female voice, sounding very young, called to her. “Your friend asked me to have you try on this, as well.”

Melanie peeked through the door and saw a young girl, probably about fifteen, standing there, popping her bubble gum as she waited. Despite the ring in her eyebrow and the bright pink hair, she was surprisingly innocent-looking. Mel opened the door far enough to take the plastic store bag from her.

“Thanks.”

She watched the girl swagger back toward the store entrance, replacing her earbuds as she went. Had she ever been that carefree? Sighing, she returned back into the dressing room. She held on to the bag with one hand while she slid the latch into place, then she opened it and reached down inside, expecting to grab on to fabric. Her mind froze when her hand closed over a thick coiled body with smooth, dry scales.

A bloodcurdling scream escaped as she dropped the bag in terror. Two hissing black snakes emerged, staring at her with baleful eyes, flicking their forked tongues in her direction. She whispered a prayer and tried to unlatch the door with fingers that shook and fumbled. Panic threatened as her sweat-slickened fingers slipped off the latch. She grabbed it again. Finally. But when she tried to open it, the door thudded under her hands. It felt as though something heavy had been thrown against it. She shoved against the door. It wouldn't budge!

She whimpered as she remembered the barricaded door in her bathroom while the kitchen was set on fire. Flattening herself against the wall, she fought to control her breathing. Hysteria was building inside her. Spots danced before her eyes as she struggled to stave off a panic attack. Snakes were her greatest fear.

“Black snakes. They're just black snakes. Not poisonous.” She repeated the mantra to herself again and again.

“Mel! Hold on, Mel,” Irene called out. Bumps and scrapes could be heard as whatever blocked the door was moved. At last, the dressing room door was wrenched open. Irene stood in the entrance, her face pale. She gasped and shrieked as one of the snakes writhed toward her. Yanking Mel through the opening, she quickly slammed the door closed before the serpent could escape.

“Someone call the manager, and security! We have a situation here.”

* * *

Jace was ushered into the chief's office at the Pittsburgh precinct. Chief Martha Garraway greeted him with a firm handshake and a welcoming although professional smile.

“Lieutenant Tucker. Please, sit down.” She motioned toward a couple of standard-issue chairs across from her. “I hear you have questions regarding the death of Mr. Steven Scott.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Jace cleared his throat. He needed to step carefully. In no way, shape or form could he even hint that the officers under her command had not done their duty. “A case from my county seems to be linked to his death.” He drew a deep breath and said a quick mental prayer for guidance. Chief Garraway nodded for him to continue.

“Four years ago, a young college student was sold some tainted drugs and died as a result. An anonymous tip led us to a Miss Melanie Swanson. I myself collected the evidence against her. It seemed a simple open-and-shut case. Miss Swanson herself appeared to OD, a suicide attempt complete with a note wherein she confessed to selling the drugs. The level of drugs in her system caused some memory loss of the night in question. She pled not guilty, but was convicted of manslaughter and served her time in prison.” He refused to allow himself to dwell on those four years. She had forgiven him and claimed he had saved her. He had to move on.

“A few days ago she was released. Since that time, her life has been repeatedly threatened and her aunt has died in suspicious circumstances. Two jurors have admitted to being threatened into finding her guilty during her trial. One of those jurors has been murdered. The other said that Mr. Scott had also been targeted and that he was coming to talk with your detectives before he was killed. My chief has put me in charge of locating Mel—er, Miss Swanson's attacker.” Of all the stupid— Did he really just refer to her as Mel in front of the chief? What was he, a rookie?

Chief Garraway arched a brow at him. “Apparently you know Miss Swanson pretty well.”

“Yes, ma'am. Well enough to have proof that she was set up.” No way was he adding any more than that. Let her think what she wanted.

Garraway narrowed her eyes, considering. She decided. Folding her hands in front of her on the desk, she gave him what he wanted. “Mr. Scott came here. He spoke to one of our finest detectives. When he was killed the next day, my officer immediately suspected foul play. He ran a thorough investigation and discovered that Mr. Scott's vehicle had been tampered with. It was no accident. We are still working to apprehend the one responsible. At the moment, however, we have no suspects. My detective has gone undercover to try to locate the perp.”

“Would it be possible for me to review the case files, Chief?”

Chief Garraway was way ahead of him. “I thought you might want to. When your chief contacted me, I had the files brought up and copied for you. I took the precaution of removing my detective's name from the reports. I know you will understand my wish to keep his identity private.”

“Absolutely, Chief.”

Chief Garraway led Jace to an empty conference room and left. He spent the next hour poring over the files. Steven Scott's story matched Emily Keith's. His car had been expertly sabotaged. Whoever had taken him out, the guy was a pro. He returned the file to Chief Garraway, thanking her for her time and cooperation.

“I believe, Chief Garraway, that when you find your perp, we will find ours, too. I would suggest keeping the communication open between our departments.”

“Agreed.” Garraway stood and extended her hand. “I look forward to working with you, Lieutenant Tucker.”

Satisfied, Jace left. He sat in his car long enough to shoot an email to Paul, then he started his engine.
I wonder what Mel did today?
he thought to himself. He smiled as he imagined her impatience at being kept in the house with only his mother for company. They would probably avoid each other. He was nearing the parking lot exit when his phone chirped. He had an email. He glanced at the phone and saw it was from Paul.
I'd better look at this before I go.
A minute later, his satisfaction with the day's work had dissipated. Aghast, he stared at the email on his phone. He read it over twice. He could see Irene wanting to take Mel shopping. But Paul? He shook his head in disgust.