The Last Execution (18 page)

“Does this happen a lot?” Romeo asked Leigh.

“Yes. Last night calls were every hour. I didn’t answer anything without an ID.”

“Want Romeo to get you one of our cells?” JT. asked. “You can turn yours off and throw it in the desk drawer.”

“No. Atlanta CID uses this number as well as the school and my family.”

J.T.’s head tilted to the side. “What happens to Ethan when you catch a case in the middle of the night?”

“A neighbor comes and stays. Takes him to school,” she said curtly. It was an odd question and really none of his business.

“No kids for me.” Romeo shook his head from side to side. “J.T., you got rug rats?”

“Never. No kids. No wife,” J.T. muttered, leaning over to study a picture of Preston.

“Hmm,” Olivia mused. “There’s an interesting story buried there.”

“There’s one buried in these boxes. Can we get back to them?” J.T. dropped another stack of files on the table.

Romeo left and the rest of the group dug into their respective stacks. J.T.’s words weighed heavy on Leigh. No kids. No wife. So why was he questioning her about child care? Best to blow off his comment and concentrate on work.

“Here’s something. Phone bills with calls from New York to Atlanta. Holy shit. The New York vigilante group had ties here in Atlanta.” She passed the pages to J.T. to look over. “Preston’s coming here was no accident.”

J.T.’s face was a study in concentration as he pored over the information she’d found. Slowly, his head moved in a nod. Then he turned to Olivia.

“Work with Romeo. Get names and addresses to go with these phone numbers. Leigh and I will run background checks. One good lead is all we need.”

His eyes sparkled with excitement. The electricity he generated filled the room, sweeping over Leigh in sensual excitement. She would’ve sworn his chest expanded, stretching his starched white shirt.

****

Tuesday, May 4, 2:00 p.m.

Rushing in with an apologetic look, Romeo shoved Leigh’s phone in her hand.

“Sorry, I answered without thinking.”

They both laughed when J.T. jumped and muttered a string of cuss words under his breath.

“Damn, J.T., you have a guilty conscience?” Romeo asked.

Leigh checked the readout on her cell...Karen Parker, her attorney. “Excuse me.” She stood, moving out of ear shot of the two men.

“What’s up?” Leigh held her breath hoping this was good news.

“If I’m interrupting—”

“Not at all. One of the FBI geniuses was trying to trace my hang-ups. You have news?”

“Jason Carrington’s attorney contacted me this morning with an offer. He claims he’s found a judge who’ll hear the paternity plea—”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I were. He’s offering you the chance to keep the case out of court. He won’t pursue if you’ll agree to the test.”

“Can you block the motion or whatever it’s called?” Lunch threatened to revolt. She wanted to run. Fear her legs wouldn’t hold her weight kept her rooted to the spot. Nobody was drawing blood or plucking hairs from her son. Nobody. This was a nightmare and it was time to wake up. “What honest judge would agree to listen to this monster?”

“I don’t know. Morgan Anderson assures me Jason’s attending counseling sessions, taking all the right steps to show the court he’s remorseful.”

“You’re warning me, aren’t you? Bracing me for the possibility of him winning.” Leigh’s voice rose and shook. She pulled in a quick breath to compose herself. She had to calm down, unless she wanted everyone in the office to know her problems. “How does he benefit by knowing if he’s Ethan’s father? He wants something.”

“There’s no court date set, and months may pass before the case comes up on the docket. This action is a maneuver to scare you into complying. I recommend you refuse his offer. Remember, the final decision is yours.”

“Tell the bastard I said no.” Leigh fought to keep from saying something a lot stronger.

“One word of caution. The longer this drags on, the more time Carrington has to establish himself as worthy of a chance to know his son.”

“Then I’d better prove he’s the one harassing me.”

“What? When did this happen?”

Leigh went through every detail. She described the bike being delivered from nowhere, the break-in, how he’d pinned her body to the bed and the punches the bastard had thrown. “That’s all, you already know about the hang-ups.”

“You can’t keep this kind of information from me,” Karen admonished, a hard edge to her voice. “Call me with the smallest invasion of your privacy. Nothing is insignificant.”

Leigh ended the call and stared into the distance as she tried to regain composure. She’d packed up and stored her anger and guilt a long time ago. Was it time to make an appointment with her therapist? Dredge it all up again? No. She’d use the tools she’d learned and control those old fears. Leigh put her personal problems on hold and turned back to work.

“Where Romeo?” She needed to give him the phone back.

“I sent him to his desk. You okay?” J.T.’s eyes softened.

“I’m beginning to wonder if anything will ever be okay again. Romeo couldn’t trace the calls either, could he?”

His expression confirmed what she’d expected.

“Occasionally, after somebody says something can’t be done, Romeo works a miracle. Not this time.”

Her phone buzzed. J.T. rose, leaned over her shoulder, and they both read the words on the caller ID aloud. “Caller unknown.”

“Let me.” He reached for the phone.

“No. I have to handle this.” She punched the silent button, watching confusion slide across his face.

Chapter Thirteen

Wednesday, May 5, 12:30 a.m.

A slight breeze filled with clean fresh air told J.T. she’d walked up behind him. Leigh’s scent was out of place, considering he stood over a man with over half his head missing and blood spattered everywhere. J.T. turned away from the horror lying beyond the yellow tape and toward something beautiful.

“Hey.” She smiled up at him.

“Hey, yourself.” J.T. froze in his tracks when her hand brushed across his back as she stepped around him to view the crime scene. Lightning streaks trailed her fingers.

“Charlie.” She addressed one of the techs.

“Detective McBride. Long time no see.” The tech closest to the victim gave Leigh a wide grin. “You’re looking good tonight.”

J.T. stared at the guy in disbelief. Bent over a dead body and he still found time to flirt with Leigh.

“I can say the same about you.”

A flash of heat hit J.T. when she favored Charlie by returning his silly grin.

“Sorry to drag you out this time of morning. Be a damn site easier on us if he’d kill in the daylight,” Charlie grumbled, returning to work.

“He works at night for a reason. Don’t expect him to change.” J.T. moved around the perimeter.

“You ID the vic?” Leigh asked.

“Dr. Nathan Holibeck,” Charlie said over his shoulder.

J.T. ignored the tightness in his chest at the familiarity Leigh and Charlie displayed. She leaned down, walked under the tape, and stood close to her friend who’d squatted next to the body. J.T. clenched his jaw while the word
mine
cycled through his brain like a revolving sign. Jesus Christ. Jealousy was not his thing.

“A doctor this time. What else can you tell me?” she asked.

“He was dead the second the bullet hit him.” Charlie looked directly at her. “I’d say the shooter was on the top of a building. I’m only guessing at this point.”

J.T. shook off his irritation. “ID clipped on his scrubs says he worked at Fairmont Hospital.”

“Took one hell of a shot to be this accurate at night.” The second tech stood and turned in a circle studying the tops of the buildings in the cluster of high-rise apartments. “Wonder if he sticks around to watch the aftermath?”

“Don’t know.” J.T. glanced at the tech. “I wouldn’t stay.”

He moved around behind Leigh, her gaze remained on the dead man. He liked her dedication and backbone. Not once had she flinched at the face of death. Had she ever taken a life? He’d taken his share in Afghanistan. He carried no regret and no remorse for doing his job. The faces he remembered late at night were his friends. The ones who hadn’t come home.

“Do we know if he lived around here?” she asked.

“According to his driver’s license, he’s in the Emerson Towers,” Charlie answered.

“He was almost home.” She pointed to the apartment nearest to them. “Expensive digs. This area is known for families. I’ll bet he had a wife.”

“My money’s with you.” J.T. slid his hand around her bicep. The hit of pleasure at her slight shudder pleased him. He led the way across the parking lot into the building and stood waiting for the elevator.

“You and Charlie are…what?”

Blue eyes shimmered like the sun bouncing off the ocean when she leaned back against the handrail. “Cousins.”

Her one-word delivery with lifted eyebrows made J.T. wish for a rock to crawl under as he followed her into the elevator. “Looked like kissing cousins the way he drooled over you.”

Her smile broadened. She flashed enough pearly white teeth to make any dentist proud.

The damn elevator stopped, ending his urge to drag her against him and kiss those smartass lips. With a swish, the doors opened, and she was gone. He caught up with her in front of the dead man’s apartment.

J.T. gave the ringer a push and held his ID up to the peephole.

A dark-haired, middle-aged woman opened the door. Eyes wide, she clutched the tie on her yellow terrycloth bathrobe with both hands. J.T. identified himself and Leigh.

“What’s wrong?” Her lips trembled.

“Doctor Nathan Holibeck live here?” J.T. asked, sliding his ID into his back pocket.

“Yes. I’m his mother.”

“May we come in?” Leigh’s tone was soft and soothing.

The woman steadied herself by resting her hand on the doorframe before she waved them inside.

“Maybe you should sit.” Leigh followed the woman to the couch.

“It’s my daughter-in-law, isn’t it?” Her gaze shifted from Leigh to J.T. and back, confusion clouded her eyes.

“Why would you think that?” Leigh asked.

“She’s in Fairmont hospital for a couple of days. She fell and broke her ribs.”

J.T. felt Leigh’s gaze on him even before he glanced her direction. Questions about Mrs. Holibeck filled his mind. Had she been abused?

The older woman’s face paled. She moved down the couch away from Leigh and glanced at the door expectantly. “My son’s a doctor at Fairmont. He should be home by now.”

Leigh spoke first. “I’m sorry to inform you, Nathan won’t be coming home.”

She handled the situation with ease. Her gentle approach led the woman through the routine questions and answers. Leigh stood by her side while she called her husband and broke the news.

The trip down the elevator was somber.

“Olivia’s interviewing a witness. Let’s check in with her.” J.T. rested his hand on Leigh’s lower back.

Her muscles tightened under his fingers, and she pulled away. “Olivia’s on site?”

J.T. puzzled at her question. Leigh’s eyebrows furrowed, and her hands smoothed the fringe of curls away from her face. He’d pissed her off. What the hell?

“You go ahead. I’ve got a few more questions for Charlie.”

“Suit yourself.” J.T. did a mental shoulder shrug at her chilly behavior and crossed over to the area Olivia had set up as command central.

Two Atlanta SWAT members leaned against the hood of a van. J.T. gave Olivia a quick nod when he walked past her on his way to introduce himself. “Find anything?”

“Nothing. Wish we had better news for you.” Gayle Sherrod pushed off the van and shook his hand. “Wish you’d brought a breeze.”

“I don’t envy you the wardrobe in May.” J.T. hadn’t noticed the wind had stilled or the dark clouds sliding across the sky until Sherrod unbuckled her flak-vest and fanned herself to cool down. “Looks like rain,” he said.

“I hope,” she agreed. “We swept the area. The shooter’s long gone. All total, four people were in the vicinity and heard the shot. One woman described the sound as a loud boom. One man witnessed the vic get hit.”

“Talk about a shock to the system.” J.T. winced.

Sherrod’s partner, Harlan King, spoke up. “EMT’s got her in the back of the ambulance. She took a header, came to, puked, and hasn’t stopped crying.”

Harlan’s muscular shoulders and big biceps left no doubt of his physical prowess. The guy pumped iron...lots of iron. His gaze never strayed from Olivia.

J.T. held back his amusement. “We need a break in this case. Nobody saw our guy run, or noticed anyone carrying a large case?”

“No. We only did a cursory interview.” Harlan’s face lit up when Olivia’s gaze briefly shifted in his direction.

“She’ll dig deep.” J.T. nodded in Olivia’s direction then lowered his voice to a whisper. “Want me to introduce you? She’s single.”

“No, thanks. I talked to her earlier.”