No Escape (20 page)

Tim spotted Scott and cut through the crowd toward him. His gaze landed briefly on Brody and Jo and then settled on Scott. ‘Scott, it’s time to go. We’ve got the graveside ceremony.’

‘I have a call to make first,’ Scott said.

Tim wrapped his arm around Scott’s shoulders. ‘It’s going to have to wait, pal. We need to go.’

Scott’s face crumpled with sadness. ‘This Ranger shouldn’t be here.’

‘He’s trying to find Christa’s killer,’ Tim said. ‘He’s doing his job.’

‘This isn’t the place.’ Scott lowered the phone to his side as if all the will had melted from him.

‘It’s always the place,’ Tim said. ‘Let him do his job, and we can do ours and see Christa laid to rest.’

Tears welled in Scott’s gaze as his head and shoulders slumped. ‘I can’t do it. I can’t watch them lower her into the ground, knowing that freak buried her alive.’

Jo studied Scott’s grief but didn’t allow herself to be pulled into it. He was clearly hurting.

Tim glanced at Jo. ‘Hey, Jo, good to see you.’

‘You too, Tim.’

‘Thanks for trying,’ Tim said.

Jo nodded. ‘Of course.’

Scott looked ahead to the casket now being loaded into the hearse. ‘God, they are going to bury her again. That’s not right.’

Tim patted Scott’s shoulder. ‘She’s in a better place, buddy.’

Scott buried his face in his hands. ‘This is messed up.’

Tim made apologies to Jo and Brody and led Scott away, helping him into the limo.

‘He’s worried about her being buried in the ground again,’ Jo said. ‘I’m surprised he didn’t have her cremated.’

‘Ester didn’t want Christa cremated. She wanted her buried next to their parents in the family plot. Scott protested. There was a big fight. But Scott had no legal leg to stand on.’

Jo had noted how Ester had leaned on Scott. ‘They seem close now.’

Brody shrugged. ‘Grief can mess a person up. Makes them say or act out of character.’

Heaviness lingered behind the words. For a moment she thought he might have been talking about himself. ‘What you’re saying is that tomorrow she won’t need Scott?’

‘Let’s say soon her head is going to clear, and she’ll see the world differently. She will look back on today and wonder why she said and did half of what she did.’

Before she thought, she said, ‘You talking about her now or yourself?’

Brody met her gaze. ‘Both.’

At the gravesite, Jo stood next to Brody, too aware of the energy that he radiated. Raw. Powerful. Dangerous. She had a strong attraction to him. It would be foolish now to deny it. But this attraction had to be exorcised. She’d flown too close to this flame once before and had been burned.

Focusing her attention on the gathering crowd of mourners, she watched as they took their seats at the gravesite. Christa’s sister and boyfriend sat in the front row, each clutching a red rose. Ester’s eyes were bloodshot, and she still clung to Scott as if he were a lifeline. The woman might have disliked the man before but right now he was her rock. Brody had been right. Grief changed enemies into friends. Friends into enemies.

Tim caught her gaze and smiled.

‘I’ll be right back,’ Jo said.

Without a glance at Brody she maneuvered the cemetery lawn in her heels toward Tim. He smiled warmly at her and pulled her into a hug.

‘A lot of the searchers showed up at the church,’ Tim said. ‘I thought I saw Rucker before but he was on the other side of the room so we didn’t get a chance to speak.’

‘It was touching to see everyone. We all wanted to find her alive. That connects us to each other and to her.’

Tim was a handsome man. Pretty almost, though she doubted he’d have liked the description. ‘I wish we’d done a better job. We failed her.’

‘You can’t look at it that way. Look how many people you marshaled and brought together to search.’

A bitter smile twisted the edges of his lips. ‘Effort is nice, but it’s the results that matter. Yeah, we worked hard but in the end we didn’t find her.’ He shook his head. ‘And she’d been alive all these weeks.’

‘Tim. You can’t live your life playing the what-if game.’

Tension deepened the lines around his eyes. ‘But I will for a long time. I let her down.’

She took his hand in hers. Warm. Rough. ‘Don’t blame yourself.’

‘There is a group of us gathering tonight. The searchers, as we like to call ourselves. At a bar downtown. You should join us. You worked harder than anybody.’

Aware of Brody, she hesitated. A month ago she’d not have second-guessed. ‘Grief often finds some solace in groups.’

‘You sound like a psychologist.’

She smiled. ‘No getting away from it.’

‘So you’ll come?’

‘Yeah. See you.’ She squeezed his hand and returned to Brody’s side.

He kept his gaze ahead but he was frowning. ‘I didn’t realize you two were friends.’

‘He’s a nice guy.’

Brody’s gaze shifted toward Tim, much like a rifle sight zeroed in on a target. ‘He likes you.’

‘Mutual respect.’

‘Don’t kid yourself.’

‘None of your business.’

‘Anyone connected to Christa is my business. I saw you nodding. You accepted an invitation.’

His attention to detail on such a simple exchange surprised her. ‘He and some of the other searchers are gathering for a drink in town tonight. I agreed to go.’

‘I didn’t realize it was such a tight-knit bunch.’

‘Tim’s great at building camaraderie.’

The hearse arrived and Scott, Ester and Tim moved to the back of the vehicle and unloaded the walnut casket. Jo didn’t know the other three pallbearers. Their gazes fixed and solemn, the six carried Christa’s casket to the grave. The crowd went silent for a moment before the faint sounds of weeping rose.

Thick, sudden tension rippled through Brody’s body, drawing Jo’s gaze to his face. He wasn’t staring at the coffin but past it to a woman hovering close to a tree. The woman wore all black, including a black lace veil that covered white hair.

‘Who is she?’ Jo asked.

‘Her name is Ginnie Dupont. She’s a big fan of Smith’s. She’s been writing him letters since his trial. She dreams of being buried alive with him.’

A shudder passed through her body. ‘And she comes to this funeral because Christa was murdered like Smith’s victims? She’s delusional.’

‘That’s being kind.’

Jo watched the woman wring a handkerchief between her hands. ‘I didn’t see her at the church.’

‘She’s not fond of crowds.’

‘She’s not broken any laws by being here?’

His jaw tensed. ‘Not yet.’

When the casket was lowered into the grave each searcher placed a single red rose on it. In minutes red rose petals covered polished walnut.

Jo watched the casket lower into the ground. A shiver raced down her spine. ‘I never want to be put in the ground.’

Brody raised a brow and stared at her. ‘When you’re dead, does it really matter?’

‘My colleagues would argue that I’m trying to maintain control over life even after I’m gone. Which I suppose is true.’

‘But logic doesn’t communicate too well with emotion.’

‘No. And it’s an irrational fear … being trapped in a small space. But the fear is there, and I don’t want to be buried.’

‘Well, here’s hoping you have a long and happy life, and when the end does come years from now, if there’s breath in my body, I’ll see that you don’t end up in the ground.’

She arched a brow. ‘You can’t keep a promise like that. Who’s to say where you’ll be?’

‘Doesn’t matter. If I’m alive, that promise will be kept.’

An odd calmness warmed the chill. She trusted Brody would keep his word. ‘Only fair I return the favor. Any final requests?’

He looked toward the spot where Ginnie Dupont had stood. She was gone. ‘Don’t care what you do with my carcass when I’m gone. Fact, I don’t want any fuss made. If you’re still kicking, have a toast in my honor and make a donation to your favorite charity.’

‘You really don’t care.’

‘Not a damn bit. Let the dead bury the dead.’

Jo wasn’t watching the streets carefully when Brody pulled away from the gravesite. She’d been preoccupied with dissecting the reactions of the mourners. The sense of loss and grief had been palpable, but as she’d told Brody, no one really knew what drove the visible tears. It could easily be remorse as well as loss.

When he stopped at a street corner and a horn honked she refocused her gaze. She studied the tree-lined neighborhood. ‘Where are we?’

‘I need to make a quick side trip.’

She checked her watch and thought about her six o’clock appointment. ‘Where?’

He kept his gaze ahead, his body relaxed as he made another turn. ‘My folks’ place.’

‘Your parents’ home?’

‘That’s right.’

Unease rolled through her, tightening her muscles. She’d never met Brody’s parents and she never wanted to. ‘Perhaps you should drop me off at my office first. I shouldn’t tag along for this.’

His gaze searched hers. ‘Why not?’

‘I would rather not.’

‘Why?’ His gaze sharpened.

She shoved out a deep breath. ‘Brody, when we were married, you kept making excuses why you couldn’t introduce me to your parents.’ She swallowed a lump in her throat that she’d not expected or wanted.

His jaw tightened. ‘I was an immature prick when we were married.’

‘What does that have to do with this introduction now?’

He arched a brow, half amused by her directness. ‘I’ve been stowing a few boxes at their place that need to be picked up, and it wouldn’t hurt for you three to meet.’

‘Yes, but why?’

He shook his head, his exasperation evident. ‘Does there have to be a deep psychological need behind my actions?’

She shrugged. ‘Most of us are driven by something under the surface.’

He parked in front of a white one-story with a neat front yard and faced her, his expression hawkish. ‘What is driving you now? Why are you hesitant to meet my folks?’

Jo stared sightlessly out the windshield. ‘I carried their grandchild, and you were ashamed.’ The inside thought came out before she thought to censor. ‘It took me a long time to get over all the emotions that stemmed from that time. I don’t want to go back.’

He shut off the engine. ‘You did nothing wrong. The baby was an accident. I know that now. I’m ashamed of the way I acted during that time. I thought marrying you was enough, but I can see now you deserved better.’

She closed her eyes as tears clogged her throat. ‘Why are we doing this now, Brody? It’s been fourteen years. And I really, really don’t want to travel down memory lane.’

He was silent for a moment. ‘A debt is a debt, Jo. And I owe you.’

Her left hand curled into a fist as she faced him. ‘You don’t owe me anything.’

He opened his car door. ‘Yeah, I do.’

A growing sense of panic clawed at her as she imagined meeting Brody’s parents. A foolish reaction, her mind pointed out. Fourteen years was a long time ago. The past was dead and buried. And here were emotions pulling at her as if it were yesterday.

Brody opened her car door. ‘Come on, Jo. I never figured you for a coward.’

Her temper rose and she swung her legs out of the car and stood. ‘It takes a big brass set, Sergeant Winchester, to call me a coward.’

He laughed. ‘That a girl.’

‘Oh, shut up.’

Brody slammed the car door and the two walked side by side to the front door. He rang the bell and seconds later the door snapped open to a tall woman with short, gray hair and Brody’s dark eyes.

The woman grinned and pushed open the screen door. ‘Brody!’

Jo stepped back as Brody hugged his mother. She thought about the dozen other places she’d rather be right now. Even listening to her sister talk about her beauty pageant days was preferable.

‘Mom, I’d like you to meet Jo Granger,’ Brody said. ‘Jo, this is my mother, Del Winchester.’

Jo extended her hand to the trim woman with keen eyes and smiled as if she were interviewing a stranger or testifying in a court of law. Polite, simple, impersonal. ‘Pleased to meet you.’

Mrs. Winchester’s brows knotted as she eyed Brody. ‘Jo Granger.
Your
Jo Granger, Brody?’

Your
Jo Granger. Damn. Somewhere along the way he’d told both his parents about them. Great. Just great.

Brody removed his hat. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

Mrs. Winchester’s smile was as warm and welcoming as it had been when she’d first looked at her son. ‘It’s nice to finally meet you, Jo.’

Jo wasn’t sure if she should extend her hand, nod or smile.

Mrs. Winchester settled it when she hugged her. At first, Jo remained stiff and unsure, but to her surprise her tension eased. This was the kind of hug she could have used fourteen years ago when she’d been scared. ‘It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Winchester.’

What else could she say?

Mrs. Winchester squeezed her tight before releasing her. ‘Call me Del. And you two come on inside. I’ve got some iced tea made. Brody, Jo and I can visit while you and Daddy load your boxes in the car.’

As her brain screamed
Run!
Jo walked into the small, modest home. It was neat and orderly and the walls were covered with pictures of Brody. The images spanned his infancy all the way up to a recent valor awards ceremony.

‘Nick!’ Del shouted. ‘Brody’s here, and he’s brought company.’

‘Be right there.’ Nick’s voice emanated from somewhere upstairs.

‘He’s putting shelves in the attic,’ Del explained. ‘I’ve been after him to do it for years. Had not a bit of interest. I might as well have been talking to a tree outside. Of course, Brody calls, Nick starts rummaging for boxes in the attic and decides it’s time to get organized.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘It’s all his idea now.’

A loud
thump
sounded from upstairs.

‘Maybe I better go check on Dad,’ Brody said.

Del didn’t look worried. ‘Might not be such a bad idea. All I need is for him to cut off a finger or break a toe.’

Brody smiled at Jo. ‘Be right back.’

She stared up at him, doing her best to send evil intentions without giving away her frustration to Del. ‘Sure.’

He winked, amused as if he could read each of her dark thoughts. ‘Be right back.’