The Last Execution (31 page)

He left his grandmother behind and walked to the edge of the garden. He extended a hand to his mother. A look of confusion flitted across her face. Jesus Christ, was she afraid to accept his offer? She hesitantly wrapped her fingers in his, and he helped her step over the rows to the sidewalk.

She moved closer and tentatively slid her arms around his waist. His heart worked its way to the back of his throat. He swallowed hard and gathered her frail body close. They stood silently, holding each other for the first time in years. A sudden wave of remorse hit him. Caught him off guard. The feeling slammed into him with such fierceness, he staggered under the weight. Years of lost time because of her drinking and his inability to stop her pulled him into deep water.
Shit.
He couldn’t force her to do anything. Why did he feel so responsible?

“You two come in the house. I made peach cobbler, and it’s cooled long enough.” His grandmother opened the back door, waiting.

“Can you eat?” he asked, walking his mother into the kitchen.

“A little.” She kept her gaze on the floor. “At least my food’s not coming right back up anymore.”

“That’s gotta be a relief.” He blocked old images from his mind.

“She’s doing great,” Nana announced, standing on tiptoe to pull bowls from the cabinet.

They sat around the table and made small talk about the weather and the garden. Nana’s cobbler was his favorite, and when she offered a second helping he didn’t turn her down. She chattered away as if this little gathering happened all the time.

Her enthusiasm and optimism amazed him. The capacity for forgiveness in her heart was bottomless. Hell, he’d benefited from it as a kid more than once. He worried that she was painting a happy family portrait in her mind, which he’d guarantee was fake. The colors would turn dark and run. How soon? A question nobody could answer.

J.T. made up an excuse to leave after they’d finished eating. He’d made nice like his grandmother wanted while trying to get a feel for how his mother had progressed. Trust didn’t come easy for him, and he doubted she’d stop drinking if she didn’t get help. Part of him hoped she proved him wrong this time.

He kissed his grandmother goodbye and turned to find his mother’s hand extended. An odd gesture, she seemed to be returning his earlier action of escorting her into the house by walking him to his car. He caught her small fingers in his, and they went outside. The night air hit the sweat forming on the back of his neck sending a shiver up his spine. She was still his mother, and he loved her in spite of all the heartaches they’d been through. Respect her? No. Damn it, hard as he’d tried, his heart had never been able to fully cut her out.

“Take care of yourself,” she said.

“You too.” He leaned down and kissed her on both cheeks. A single tear ran down her face, and his heart cratered. Imploded. He gathered her in his arms.

“Mama.” He leaned down and whispered in her ear. “You can do this.”

The nod of her head was so slight, for a second, he wasn’t sure whether he imagined it or not.

He slid in behind the wheel and took one long look. “Call if you need me.”

When he backed out of the driveway, he wondered if he’d seen his mother for the last time. If she left again, how long would she be gone? Years? For good? He hoped she’d at least try to stay sober. For Nana’s sake.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Wednesday, May 12, 11:00 p.m.

Leigh reread the same paragraph for the third time before she realized her brain hadn’t registered a single word on the page. She closed the book and lay staring at the ceiling. How could she have been so stupid? She’d walked right into a trap by acknowledging Ethan was Jason’s son.

His attorney contacted Karen with a new demand—visitation rights or face a nasty court battle. In a fit of fury, Leigh had sent back the message she’d see Jason in hell before she allowed him to get near her son. No doubt, her attorney had reworded the statement. She issued instructions to Leigh to control her temper.

Tonight, she’d made the decision to tell Romeo and Olivia about her past and Jason’s demands. God, the idea of baring her soul and sharing the assault sickened Leigh. And yet, she couldn’t let them be blindsided when all hell broke loose.

She tried to relax. Pushed the negative thoughts from her mind by taking air deep into her lungs and then releasing the breath slowly. Her mind wandered to J.T. and how wonderful he’d been tonight. She’d worried needlessly about how he’d react around Ethan after she’d shared the circumstances of his birth. If anything, J.T. seemed more connected and openly demonstrative with Ethan.

Like a mother lioness, she’d paid close attention when Ethan had fallen into J.T.’s arms to say goodnight. She’d stood out of the way while her two guys exchanged a bear hug. After tucking Ethan in, she’d curled up on the couch in J.T.’s arms and requested her own hug.

Now, lying in bed all alone, she ran her fingers across her mouth, remembering the pressure of his lips against hers, his strong hands cupping her breasts, lighting fires with his fingertips. Neither Leigh nor J.T. wanted to test fate with a little one in the next room. Reluctantly, Leigh had escorted him to the door and let him drive away. Her hormones were still running amuck, loudly protesting because she hadn’t brought him to bed with her.

On the nightstand, her cell vibrated, and her cheeks heated when she read the caller ID. “Hey. Are you home already?”

“Yeah. Are you in bed?” His voice was husky. Thick. Sexy.

Her heartbeat relocated to the juncture of her thighs. “Yes. I can’t seem to concentrate on my book.” A tingle raced from her head to her toes.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.” Should she tell him where she throbbed?

“Yes. You do. Tell me.”

His low chuckle rolled through her phone touching off small tornadoes in her stomach.

“I wish you were here.”

“Doing what?” He pressed for more.

“Stop it.” A statement she clearly didn’t mean.

“In bed with you?” He sighed. “Inside you?”

“God, yes.” The throbbing intensified. “By the way, I’m a beginner at having phone sex.” Easier to joke than admit how his voice set her skin on fire.

“Then don’t start something you can’t finish.”

She did love a challenge. “Hang on.” Leigh put the book on the bedside table, slid her pistol under the pillow next to her, and snapped off the reading light. “Now. Where were we?” She closed her eyes and imagined his warm breath on her neck.

“Take off your sleep shirt.”

****

Thursday, May 13, 9:00 a.m.

Leigh leaned back in her chair and let the small team around Casey’s conference table absorb her lengthy statement. Childbirth hadn’t been as hard as telling the taskforce about her rape, the ugly trial, and what she was going through with Jason now that he’d been paroled. That she’d gotten pregnant as a result of the attack was the one fact she’d held back.

Romeo and Casey’s expressions were stoic and unreadable. Compassion reflected from Olivia’s warm brown eyes. J.T.’s hunter green gaze hardened to a fierceness Leigh hadn’t seen before. She felt this team supported her more as friends than coworkers.

Casey cleared his throat. “Thank you for telling us, Leigh.” He turned to face to group. “Based on the expected court proceedings, I encouraged her to share her situation with the team. I also assured her, everyone in this room would understand how difficult sharing such personal information was for her.”

Romeo’s hand covered hers. “Tell us what we can do.”

“My off duty time is yours.” Olivia leaned forward and rested her hand over Romeo’s.

“Jesus Christ.” J.T. rolled his eyes. “I’ll shoot the person who says ‘All for One and One for All.’ So help me.” He folded his arms across his chest and scowled. The corners of his lips couldn’t hold the downward curve.

“Damn.” Casey laughed. “You stole my line.”

Leigh struggled to express her gratitude, her voice breaking when she thanked everyone for their support. Casey ended the meeting and sent the group off with instructions to turn up something on the sniper.

“I’ve got to stop by the printer,” J.T. commented. “I received the report on Preston’s trust fund.”

Leigh made her way to the restroom, where she turned on the tap and splashed cold water on her face. Hands propped on the counter, she blinked back tears, refusing to give in. Reliving the past in her mind was bad enough, speaking the words out loud had turned her inside out. Pain doubled her over as old memories became new and real again. Pissed she’d given Jason this much power over her emotions, she ripped a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and dried her face.

The badge hanging from the chain around her neck bounced off the marble countertop. She caught the cool shield in her hand, held it to her chest, and drew strength. Life slid into focus.
Enough.
Work waited outside the door. Leigh held her head high and went back to her desk.

“I was seconds from coming after you.”

“Rescuing me from the clutches of the women’s restroom won’t be necessary,” she joked, and he rewarded her by showing her his dimple. “Although, I remember you have no problem barging in, privacy be damned.”

Heat prickled across her skin when his face relaxed completely, and the smile rose to his eyes.

“And don’t you forget it.” He passed her a file, and his demeanor shifted to business. “Doyle Preston’s trust fund hasn’t had one single inquiry.”

Leigh read the statements and found nothing new. “You expected him to try?”

“No, but I hoped. We’ll drop this thread for now and move on.”

Leigh shared his disappointment. “At least we caught a break. We made it to Thursday without another murder.”

“Yeah. A reprieve. A stay of execution for somebody.”

Leigh’s stomach cramped. As outrageous as her theory might sound, she had to tell the team that Jason could be the sniper’s target. She wouldn’t shed a tear if he died, yet couldn’t keep quiet if there was a possibility Doyle was going to kill him.

“I remembered something my good Samaritan said the night of the wreck. It troubles me.”

“What is it?”

“I think Jason may be in danger.”

She held her breath while J.T. scrubbed a hand over his chin and gazed at the ceiling for a long second.

“How would Doyle know about Jason? Help me understand.”

“Pieces of our conversation pop into my memory. The guy asked me about my bruises, and I made some flippant remark about somebody being after me. After he told me his name, he added that he might help me.”

“You sure you didn’t mention anybody’s name?”

“I’m positive.”

“It’s one hell of a long shot.”

Relieved J.T. hadn’t blown her off, Leigh buried the thought that life would be easier without Jason around. She kept her thoughts to herself while J.T. scrubbed a hand over his chin and gazed at the ceiling for a long second.

“What are you thinking?”

“We should ask the widows if anyone offered to help them.”

Leigh’s cell buzzed. Odd. Her dad never called.

“What’s wrong?” J.T. asked when she ended the short conversation.

“I have to go. Apparently, my mother’s had a headache since the attack Saturday and didn’t tell anyone.” She grabbed her purse. “After she’d gotten violently sick to her stomach, she finally told Dad. He’s taking her to the Fairmont ER.”

****

J.T. caught up with her and ushered Leigh in the elevator. She surprised him by not arguing, which was just as well, because he’d have hogtied her before letting her drive across town by herself.

He slipped his arm around her waist and felt the full force of her fear when she rested against his body. The tremors and rigid muscles said her nerves were strung tight enough to snap.

“Leigh.” Trying to assure her, he lifted her chin and held her gaze. “You’ll get through this.”

“And then what? This problem with my mother is because of Jason. He’ll never leave me alone. I know it and now we have to figure out a way to save his sorry life.”

She pushed away from him. Hate filled her blue eyes. Damned if J.T. could blame her. If she was right, and the sniper had Jason in his sights...well, shit.

“Did Atlanta PD follow up with your parents after the assault?”

“Hell, no. Not even a follow-up call.” She stormed out of the elevator into the parking garage.

J.T. slid behind the wheel and reached across to the glove box. After she buckled up, he handed her a section out of the newspaper. “Take a look.”

Damn, he hated to upset her further. The picture of Jason presenting a check to some charity in the Hamptons proved he wasn’t in Atlanta when her mother was attacked.

J.T. kept quiet, allowing her the privacy of her thoughts. The urge to fix things ate at him, driving his temper close to the edge. How far could he go before she flipped because he’d interfered in her personal life?

David hadn’t followed through with his promise to look into Leigh’s suspicions. Granted, he couldn’t do it from a patrol car, but he had contacts on the force. He was supposed to ask discreet questions.

Leigh crumpled the paper and tossed it to the floor. “Believe what you want. Jason orchestrated and directed the break-in and the attack at the park.”