Silence: The Faces of Evil Christmas Prequel (3 page)

Interest stirred in the other woman’s eyes. “You’re saying if I could help you find some more evidence—not saying I could, mind you—I could wash my hands of this whole mess?”

Jess smiled. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, Ms. Potter. You help me find the place where Melvin took those girls after he snatched them and I’ll make sure you don’t have to show your face in the courtroom when he goes on trial.”

With the right evidence there was a chance a trial wouldn’t even be necessary. And if Potter turned out to be Aniston’s accomplice, she wouldn’t be showing her face at his trial.

She would have her own.

3

Christmas Eve

Publix, Hoover, Alabama, 6:45 p.m.

No hot fudge pies.

Jess scowled as she circled the festive holiday stands in the bakery section of the store for the third time.

Dozens of pies. Chocolate—not the same as hot fudge at all—apple, pecan, pecan, pecan, key-lime, peach, pumpkin.

“Shoot.” Plain old chocolate would just have to do.

Jess added a chocolate pie to the basket hanging on her elbow then went in search of the wine aisle.

“Merry Christmas, shoppers,” echoed from the store’s intercom system.

Knowing what the coming announcement would likely be, she picked up her pace, zigzagging faster through the crowd that seemed to multiply the closer she got to the wine and beer aisle.

“Just a friendly reminder,” the disembodied voice went on, “that Publix will be closing in fifteen minutes so our employees may spend the holiday with their families. Please proceed to the checkout counters with your final purchases. Thank you for shopping at Publix.”

Jess cut around and between other customers as she scanned the wine labels. Something light and crisp would go well with the chocolate pie. She grabbed a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and headed for the checkout counters.

Every register had a line of customers waiting. Jess groaned.
She was never getting out of here
. The express lines were the longest but, like her, the customers queued there had the fewest items. She made her way through the cluster and got in the shortest of the three lines. Should move reasonably quickly, she hoped.

Her cell chimed that tinkling melody. Probably Lil checking up on her again. Jess fished for her phone deep in her purse. One of these days she had to organize this hobo style handbag or get something larger. Everyday she seemed to carry more of her life around with her. Possibly, she admitted, because she was never home.

She flipped open the phone and greeted her sister. “I’m at the register now, Lil.”

The woman in front of Jess glanced back at her. She smiled and shrugged. So she’d lied. Just because there were... eight, nine... ten people ahead of her didn’t change the fact that she was at the register prepared for checkout. The nosy woman turned her attention forward once more.

Merry Christmas to you, too, Jess mused.

Lil’s voice dragged her attention back to the phone. “You need what?” Her weary shoulders sagged as her sister lamented the fact that she’d forgotten to pick up carrots for Santa’s reindeer.

For Pete’s sake. How old were kids these days before they figured out Santa was just leverage their parents used to make them behave. She heaved a sigh. Oh well, it was Christmas. She should be thankful her sister wasn’t ranting at her for holding up dinner.

“No problem. I’ll get carrots for Rudolph and Dasher and the rest. Be there in a few.” Jess shoved her phone into her purse and took a long look around the store without moving from her spot in the ever-shortening line.

Where the heck was the produce department?

“It’s that way,” the meddlesome lady in front of her said.

Jess forced a happy holidays smile. “Thank you.”

Oh well, surely the line would be even shorter five minutes from now. The store was closing. Yeah, right. Hordes of shoppers were hastily maneuvering their carts toward the front of the store.

At the produce section, she surveyed the long tables mounded with fruits and vegetables. The cooler displays were arranged with sparkly snowflakes hanging above the apples, oranges, lettuce, tomatoes and...
carrots
.

She passed over the generic bags of baby carrots for a bunch of long carrots with the greens still attached.

“Looks like reindeer food to me.” She added those to her basket.

“Jess?”

A shiver, followed immediately by a flash of heat, swept through her. Her heart thumped hard as she turned toward the man who had spoken.

Dan
.

When her gaze landed on him some part of her psyche surrendered just a little bit to the weight of the past few days, as if just seeing him had pushed the load beyond what she could bear.

Good sense promptly took a hiatus and her brain immediately went into inventory mode. First of her own unkempt appearance as if she were hovering overhead, staring at her travel worn self. Her slacks were wrinkled from all those hours behind the wheel. The matching black sweater had a speck of mustard on the front from the burger she’d gotten at a drive through just this side of Roanoke. At least her coat covered that unsightly mess. The burn in her cheeks warned her face had just gone bright red.

More disconcerting than all that combined, she hadn’t bothered with makeup and her hair, which hadn’t seen a brush since sometime after midnight, was in a ponytail.

She looked like hell.

He, on the other hand, looked amazing.

Before her brain could kick back into gear and organize the proper verbal response, he hugged her. Her lungs filled with the scent of him... he smelled like rain... fresh and clean with a hint of that same sexy aftershave he’d worn when they were together.

He released her. She swayed before she could recapture her equilibrium. “Dan.” She gave a nervous laugh as she glanced around, hoping against hope this was some sort of delusion brought on by the stress she’d come here to escape. “Of all things... running into you
here
.”

There had to be a hundred supermarkets in the Birmingham area. What were the odds?

There was only one possible answer. God was getting back at her for leaving Him behind along with Santa Claus at the ripe old age of ten. Who wanted to believe in anything when your parents suddenly died on you and a foster home became your new address?

Not Jessie Lee Harris. She hadn’t believed in anything but work since.

Maybe she hadn’t believed sufficiently in the man staring at her right now to salvage their relationship as it fell apart ten years ago.

No
. He was the one who walked out.
He left her
.

As if ten years hadn’t passed, the compulsion to slap his face abruptly expanded inside her. Just as suddenly, the impulse to cry washed it away.

What in the world had she been thinking coming here?

It wasn’t bad enough that the preacher’s son waited for her at Lil’s house, she’d just run into her first and only love in Publix when she looked her absolute worst.

Determination surged, chasing away all those other frustrating emotions. She would not permit an up close encounter with the past to make a fool of her.

She opened her mouth to say something witty then snapped it shut. He was staring at her. She might have been offended except he was smiling. Much to her irritation, her entire being reacted to that gorgeous smile. And those incredible blue eyes. No man had a right to look that good. His dark hair was a little longer. He hadn’t shaved in days and still he took her breath away.

She should have gone for another of those psych evaluations instead of coming here. Maybe even paid attention.

Dan shook his head. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

That was a cue for her to speak. Where was all that bravado now, Jess? “I’m headed to my sister’s,” she blurted. “For Christmas.”

Just die right here and now
. Of course she was here for Christmas and headed to her sister’s. Why oh why did she have to embarrass herself in front of him of all people?

More of that thick, consuming silence lapsed between them with him staring at her as if he didn’t know what to say next.

She certainly didn’t. She’d said too much already.

Years
... she hadn’t seen Daniel Burnett in almost ten years. Yet, he looked exactly the same, maybe better. He’d filled out a little. Broad shoulders looked even broader in that navy suit jacket. The tee shirt beneath gave a nice preview of just how well he’d kept in shape. Jeans hugged the rest of him. She wasn’t even going there.

No question about it, thirty-something looked good on him.

Thirty-something, on the other hand, had done nothing kind for her. She rarely found time for the gym. Forgot to eat more often than not. He was probably staring at her trying to figure out what happened to the cute blond he used to know.

You’re not supposed to care, Jess
. Except she did.

“Oh man.” He gave his head a little shake as if he was still having trouble believing his eyes. “I’ll have to thank my mother tomorrow.”

“Your mother?” Confusion, then disdain marred Jess’s brow before she could stop it. Katherine Burnett had always hated her.
Always
. From her first date with Dan, his mother had decided Jess wasn’t good enough for her only son.

“She makes a sweet potato casserole every year for Christmas dinner,” he explained, “but this year she forgot one essential ingredient.” He held up a clear plastic bag containing four large sweet potatoes. “I almost forgot to stop. And here you are.”

Somehow she kept her smile in place while her lips tried their level best not to tremble. “Here I am.”

“This might sound crazy,” he began, “but... we really need to catch up. Have a drink or something.”

Panic tightened around her throat, cutting off her ability to breathe and reminding her it was still raw from last night. “Lil’s expecting me.”

Could her voice sound any shakier? Not to mention she’d already told him she was headed to her sister’s.

“An hour.” Dan reached for her basket. “I haven’t seen you in forever.” His fingers brushed hers as he took the load from her. She trembled in spite of her best efforts. “Come on, Jess. Lil will understand. Just one hour. For old time’s sake.”

If he hadn’t looked so sincere... if her brain hadn’t gone to mush... maybe she might have been able to marshal up a no rather than going with what could surely only be morbid curiosity.

“Sure.” She swallowed at the massive lump of unstable emotions in her throat. “For old time’s sake.”

That breath-stealing smile of his was nearly enough to banish all the reasons this was a colossal mistake.
You are in serious trouble here, Jess
.

As he ushered her toward the row of checkout lines at the front of the store, she kept her lips sealed tight to hold back the bout of hysterical laughter building inside her.

It was a miracle she had survived the past twenty-four hours.

Now her sister was going to kill her.

4

One day earlier...

Warrenton, 9:20 a.m.

“I thought staying the night would be prudent,” Jess explained to her boss. Calling in this morning was essential since she’d opted to stay in the field and follow up with Delia Potter.

As he rambled on about the case, she sipped her coffee and surveyed the snowy parking lot outside the IHOP. The white stuff had started coming down hard as she’d driven away from the meeting with Potter late yesterday afternoon. With every radio station she perused forecasting a possible ten to twelve inches of snow overnight, staying put had seemed the best plan. Considering the Christmas rush would only add to potential travel issues, she hadn’t wanted to take any chances.

Sunrise had confirmed she’d made the right decision. The roads were a mess. Since Delia Potter planned a trip to Cincinnati this afternoon to spend the holidays with her family, catching her this morning was imperative.

Jess glanced at the sky. Puffy white clouds with a hint of gray threatened more of the same. She wondered how many flights would be cancelled. Potter might not be going anywhere after all. Jess was a little surprised she’d been able to obtain permission from the local authorities for the travel despite the ongoing investigation. A quick call to the lead detective who didn’t understand Jess’s surprise had confirmed Potter’s assertion. It was, after all, almost Christmas, he’d reminded her.

As long as she got what she needed from the lady before she left town, Jess would be happy. She was on the case now and she wasn’t about to allow this to be the one she failed to wrap up with a nice, neat bow.

“What’s your take on Potter?” Gant wanted to know. “You get the feeling she knows more than she’s shared so far?” He didn’t bother trying to camouflage the hope in his voice.

Any margin for optimism was minimal at this stage but what little there was Jess owned it. Delia Potter had asked her to come back this morning. She had presented the impression she wanted to talk but said she needed time to think. Not exactly an appropriate reaction for someone who had nothing else to say and nothing to hide.

Jess had spent last night going over the case file Gant had provided and mulling over the meeting with Potter. The woman had exhibited no apparent discomfort during their brief conversation, at least not once she got passed the I-don’t-want-to-go-to-court attitude. Her demeanor suggested reluctance and impatience. What the woman really wanted was off the hook with her former lover’s troubles.

“I think,” Jess weighed her words carefully, “Delia Potter believes she knows something relevant but doesn’t want to get mired any deeper than she already is.”

Gant hummed a noncommittal note. “I’m counting on you, Harris. Chances are those women are dead. I have no illusions this is going to have a happy ending. Either way, we need to know what he did with them.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Jess assured him again.

Delia Potter walked in. She looked from one booth to the next.