Ruthless (15 page)

Good God, Burnett had drilled Lori and Harper about protecting her until they could scarcely do their jobs. With a big sigh for emphasis, Jess powered her window down. “Do you hear that?”

Lori frowned. “Hear what?”

“Exactly. I think we’ll be able to hear anyone coming once they turn onto this gravel road.”

Lori removed the weapon holstered at her waist. “Well, alrighty then.”

Jess palmed her Glock and shouldered her bag then climbed out of the car. She moved carefully down the
gravel road. It was a bit slow going at first, since the road dipped steeply downward before leveling off and cutting toward the creek. Dale Myers had said they went fishing here. Lots of folks who lived along this road did. It was walking distance from the Myers farm, not more than a mile and a half or two.

“I think I’ll start keeping a pair of sneakers in the trunk,” Lori grumbled.

“Keep two,” Jess suggested. High heels, no matter how stylish or what designer label they sported, just didn’t go with gravel roads.

The bubbling and trickling of the water revived her determination. Jess moved more quickly toward the sound. As she got closer, the road widened into an area good for parking two or three vehicles. Nearer the water the thick shade canopy blocked most of the sun and weeds grew along the paths leading to the water’s edge.

“If you like to swim, this would be the place to be on a hot summer day.” Lori surveyed the creek from a safe distance. “Wide and deep enough for a paddle canoe or a flat-bottomed boat.”

Lori was terrified of water. Jess hadn’t talked to her about it, but obviously she had no desire to get too close to the water’s edge. Jess turned around and studied the road that led to this spot. The main road wasn’t visible from here. The Mustang, either. Once a vehicle pulled down into this flat area, no one passing on the road would know it was here.

The story Myers had told about their dog and how he’d been found here two days after Dorie went missing kept niggling at Jess That dog had come here and then waited for a reason.

“This is where he parked,” Jess decided.

Lori’s gaze collided with hers as if the same epiphany had just struck her. “He walked through the woods and approached the Myers home from the rear. He walked straight up to Dorie’s window.”

“But Samson didn’t bark,” Jess countered.

“He used one of those training whistles or whatever,” Lori suggested. “Called the pup to him and gave him a treat. He’d probably done it before just to be sure Samson would go for it. Then they went to the house together.”

“He used the dog to lure Dorie out through the window and he brought her here.” Jess’s heart pounded so hard she could no longer hear the trickling water or the whisper of the breeze shifting the leaves of the trees.

“Only he hadn’t counted on Samson following them this far or refusing to go back to the house.”

“Poor thing probably tried to follow the bastard’s vehicle but ended up back here when he couldn’t keep up.” Jess played the scenario over and over in her head. “Or the perp could have left him the treats or a pile of dog food then drove away while Samson was occupied with an unexpected windfall.”

“Samson hung out right here, assuming they’d come back.”

Emotion swelled in Jess’s throat. “Only they didn’t and he just kept waiting.”

A twig snapped and Jess whirled around, swung her weapon upward, adopting a firing stance. She scanned the tree line and then the gravel road where it rose toward the paved highway.

“Get down, Jess!”

Lori’s voiced echoed around her at the same instant
the man came into her line of sight… dark hair… dark glasses… tall…

Jess lunged into the tree line.

Lori rushed up the gravel road. “Police! Hands away from your body!” she ordered.

“Damn it, Lori,” Jess muttered, scrambling from the underbrush.

An engine roared to life and tires squealed as Jess made it to where Lori stood, feet wide apart, weapon aimed on the retreating vehicle.

“Did you get his license plate number?” Jess was breathing hard. Her feet were killing her and the bastard who’d just scared ten years off her life was long gone.

Lori shook her head as she lowered her weapon. “He had mud or something smeared across it. I couldn’t get even one digit. Four doors. Dark in color.”

The road was deserted now as far as Jess could see in either direction. “Definitely not a local looking to cast a fishing line. Not in a business suit.” Jess hadn’t gotten any real details on the face, not behind those dark sunglasses. But that cocky body language of his had her instincts zipping into high gear. “Did you get the make?”

Lori turned to her and Jess knew the answer before she said a word. “An Infiniti.” Her shoulders sagged in frustration or defeat. “I should’ve taken a shot at his tires. Maybe I could’ve stopped him.”

“No.” Jess shoved her Glock back into her bag. “You had no compelling reason to take a shot. You didn’t see a weapon and you couldn’t be sure it was the same guy.”

But Jess was sure. A man matching his general description, dark hair and dark glasses, driving a blue or black Infiniti had aimed a weapon at her just a few days ago. But
he hadn’t been wielding a weapon today. Probably didn’t want to get his ass shot sneaking up on two cops like that. It seemed incredible to Jess that the guy would dare to get so close. But then again, he was one of Spears’s followers. He might do anything to impress his pal. Spears’s former protégé, Matthew Reed, had gone so far as having cosmetic surgery to look like his mentor. There were folks in this world who were truly, deeply damaged.

“Damn that bastard.”

Jess dragged her mind back to the present. “Did he do something to your car?” Lori’s dad had left her that car. Jess joined her on the driver’s side of the Mustang.

“He left you a gift.”

Dread coiled deep inside Jess as she stared at the bouquet of flowers wrapped in tissue paper that lay on the hood. Before Jess could do so herself, Lori donned gloves and picked up the accompanying envelope addressed to Jess, opened it and withdrew the card.

Love and Kisses, Your Secret Admirer

“Shit,” Lori muttered. She scanned the highway again. “We have to call this in.”

“And be stuck here waiting for an evidence tech.” No way. What was the point? She shook her head. “Let’s bag the envelope and card and put the flowers in the trunk. We’ll figure this out later. I need to interview those meter readers today. Supervisor Cagle was good enough to get them all rounded up for a meeting. I don’t want to miss it.”

“You’re the boss.”

Dan would throw a fit, but he’d just have to deal with it.

Jess had an investigation to conduct. Some scumbag sending her flowers wasn’t going to stall her search for the monster who’d taken all those little girls.

Hoover Medical Plaza, 11:01 a.m.

C
het flipped through another magazine. Kim, the receptionist, had promised he wouldn’t have to wait long. He hoped she didn’t let him down. He needed this appointment. But he and Cook were wasting valuable time, and as nice as Chief Harris was she wouldn’t be too happy about that.

Cook, his partner on this task, jammed his cell back into his pocket. “We need to grab lunch after this, man. I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving.” Chet closed the magazine he’d thumbed through and set it aside. He stared at the back of the receptionist’s head beyond the sliding glass that separated the lobby from the sign-in desk, hoping she would turn around and notice that he was still waiting.

He didn’t have time for this… but he had to know. Worry wrapped around his chest and squeezed like a vise.

“What’s the deal with the uptight coroner lady? Sylvia Baron?”

If Cook hadn’t said her name as if he were relishing a thick, juicy steak, Chet might have thought nothing of the seemingly innocuous question. But Chet could see where this was coming from and, worse, where it was going.

He looked to see that the other four people in the waiting room were buried in magazines or their cell phones. “What the hell, Cook?” he whispered. “Dr. Baron is so far out of your league you can’t even smell her perfume.” He made a face and shook his head.

Cook leaned closer. “No, no, you got me all wrong. I’m just curious, that’s all.”

Chet lifted his eyebrows. “Don’t bullshit me,
Officer
Cook,” he said under his breath. “The woman is the daughter of a senator. She was born with a silver spoon up her ass. That’s what makes her so
uptight
.”

Cook grinned. “I was thinking it was the absence of a good lay. I’d be happy to take care of that particular problem for her. She is
hot
.”

“She is about eighteen, twenty years older than you, bro,” Chet reminded him.

“I got no problem with that,” Cook assured him. “I love older women.” He looked around as if he feared he’d just been overheard. “Not the chief, of course. I mean she’s hot and all but she belongs to Burnett.”

Chet shook his head again. “You should never repeat any of that out loud ever again. Trust me, if you want to live, you should keep all that to yourself.”

He hoped he’d never said anything that stupid when he was Cook’s age. Depression set in on the heels of that thought. God, he was old. Thirty-one this coming weekend.

Damn.

“You just wait,” Cook said with all the cockiness of a twenty-three-year-old who didn’t understand how life worked just yet. “If I get the chance, I’ll have the doc loosened up in no time.”

Chet laughed. “That’s assuming you can get close enough for her to even notice you’re breathing.”

“I’ll get close enough,” Cook guaranteed. “She’ll be noticing a lot more than my respiration.”

Fortunately, the nurse popped her head out and called Chet’s name. “I’ll be back.” He hesitated before following the nurse. “We are not here. Don’t forget that.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“And how are you today, Mr. Harper?” the nurse asked, as she led the way to an exam room.

“Great. Thank you.”

He hoped.

After being weighed, having his vitals taken and waiting ten more minutes, Dr. Bolton finally showed up

“It’s not time for your physical,” she said, surprised to see him.

Chet was lucky. He never got sick. “Next month.” Now for the touchy part. “I have a question about that surgery I had after Chester was born.”

“The vasectomy?”

Chet’s gut felt queasy. “Yes, ma’am. I was wondering what the protcol is for getting it reversed.”

She studied him a moment. “I see.”

He felt like a total sleazeball. What was it about having a doctor say
I see
that made a person feel like they’d done something wrong? Maybe because most of the time they had? What the hell had he been thinking? Worse, how the hell was he going to explain this to Lori? She insisted she
wasn’t interested in having kids for now. Didn’t even want to discuss the possibility. But there was a big difference between choosing not to and having the option taken off the table.

He should have looked into this before. He’d heard of guys getting the procedure reversed. He’d figured that was what he’d do if the need ever came up. When he’d started doing his research a few weeks ago the possible complications were a big nasty surprise.

“I met someone and the relationship is progressing and I… need to know.”

“You haven’t told her?”

Why was it those four words, far worse than
I see
, sounded like a death sentence? The thought of telling Lori made him want to throw up. Mainly he just didn’t want to make a mistake by not being adequately prepared for the next step. The other night they’d even talked about the kind of house they might buy together one day. He hoped he hadn’t waited too long already.

“Well, as you will recall, both the urologist who did the surgery and I counseled you about that. It was a big decision, not one that should have been taken lightly.”

“It’s what my wife wanted.” Why couldn’t he just have an answer? “I was trying to save my marriage.”

Dr. Bolton didn’t say anything to that. She didn’t have to. The marriage had fallen apart anyway.