The Wrong Side of Dead (26 page)

By the look of Sal’s pulsing facial tic, her cavalier attitude really pissed him off—no doubt exactly what Alexa had in mind. Bullies always expected to dish it out, but never knew how to take it. Pinzolo was no different. And being confronted by women had probably never happened to him before.

“Be careful what you ask for.” Pinzolo pointed at Alexa, then glared at Jess before he walked away, an iron-fisted hulking load of badass.

She knew big talking was a weapon in her arsenal—a pure defense mechanism. Her bluster made it look as if she weren’t afraid of the bastard, but Jess knew the man posed a real threat. And it wouldn’t end here.

“Flaunting is a highly unattractive quality, don’t you think?” Alexa stared at the man as he turned a corner. “And guys like Sal never know when to leave well enough alone.”

“Yeah, unless they learn the hard way.” Jess chewed the inside corner of her lip.

“Honey, I doubt the hard way would make an impression on Sal, but he’ll get what’s coming to him. I can assure you.”

“Yeah, that’s a sure bet. And I’d pay serious coin to be there when it happened.”

Midnight

Nadir Beladi opened his eyes and stared into the dark shadows of his bedroom, not recognizing where he was at first. It took him a moment to get his bearings. With alcohol on his breath and the smell of sex on his sheets, he remembered the hooker he had brought to his room earlier, but she had been taken away after he was done with her. His men had seen to that.

But something had awakened him. He was sure of it.

And as he held his breath to listen, he felt a presence in the room. He remained still—his body taut—and peered through the dark for any signs of movement. Nothing. When he raised his head off the pillow, he heard a chilling sound. Someone had racked the slide of a gun and shoved the muzzle next to his ear, pressing it hard to the back of his skull.

When the trespasser didn’t shoot, he dared to take a breath.

“Who are you?” he asked. “And how did you get in here?” Not waiting for a reply, he ventured the real question on his mind. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“I know exactly who you are, Nadir.” A woman’s voice.

She barely spoke above a whisper. And he did not detect an accent. He looked for any reflection of her face in a mirror. There was none. And he tried to place the voice, but nothing came.

“If this is your idea of foreplay, I must say it is working. My cock is hard for you. Please…let me see your face.” He tried flattery, anything to keep her talking.

She nudged the gun and thumped his head.

“Ah.” He winced, but kept still. “What do you want?”

The bitch had dared to injure him. Surely he would have a bruise by morning, if he survived.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” the woman whispered. “I’ve got nothing but contempt for men like you. And I can only pray that you learn from your parents’ mistake and use birth control.”

“Surely you did not come here merely to insult me.”

“Why is
that
hard to believe?” She hesitated, then added, “But you’re right. And insulting a man like you is too easy. I’m here about justice. And believe me, you’ll want to hear what I’ve got to say.”

The woman spoke and he listened. At first he was reluctant to believe what she had to say about Sal Pinzolo, his number one man. Even she admitted her conjectures were only speculative, but what she told him eventually made sense in light of his own observations. In the end she had planted a fertile seed of doubt and made him a believer.

In America, a man was presumed innocent until proven guilty, a noble belief that had served him well in his many brushes with the local police. But in his world he could not afford such idealistic sentimentality. Such a view would be a weakness, to be sure. And men like Sal Pinzolo could be easily dealt with and replaced. The way he saw it, he had nothing to lose by ridding his house of a suspected traitor.

Nothing
.

Two days later

“Glad you could meet me on such short notice.” Sam shoved into a corner booth in the back of the Funky Buddha Lounge, hitting the bar for an early drink before it got crowded. It was a trendy metro watering hole with mural-covered walls and antique lighting that was more her friend’s style. Sam waited until the waitress brought their drink orders before she gave Jess the news.

“Earlier today someone at the Adler Planetarium called to report a body floating in Lake Michigan off Lakeshore Drive. The medical examiner ID’d the body as Sal Pinzolo. He was capped twice in the back of the head, but not before someone carved him up. And the fish of Lake Michigan had their fill of Sal…like the rest of us. Can’t say I’m sorry he’s gone, for your sake.”

Jess narrowed her eyes and stared at Sam before she took a long swig of her single malt scotch. In her world, mustering sympathy for anyone like Pinzolo wasn’t going to happen. The guy lived by the knife and died by it. Beladi must have found out what Sal had done. Or maybe his suspicions were enough reason to torture him for a real confession. But she had no doubt, the murder of Sal Pinzolo would end up a cold case with no leads.

“I gave Jake Cordell the news, too. I think he had thoughts about recanting his story, but he’s probably even more afraid of Beladi with Sal not being his safety net, if he ever was.” Sam looked up from her drink. “You don’t seem too surprised.”

Jess shook her head. “In my gut I know that Sal was the one who tortured those women, Sam. Their knife wounds had his signature all over them. He got what he deserved.” She downed the rest of her drink and gestured for the waitress to bring another. “And if Jake served Harper the Mickey, I doubt he was there when Sal killed Mandy. Jake was an ass, but I couldn’t see him standing by and watching that girl die, not like that.”

Sam nodded, a grim look on her face. “I bet Jake was the anonymous caller, but he’s never admitted it.”

“My gut tells me he was the driver who tailed me out to the murder scene the night I first met him at Dirty Monty’s, too.” She narrowed her eyes. “He got someone to cover for him, then waited until I drove away. That had to be him. I left Pinzolo and Beladi kissing the pavement.”

“Kissing the pavement?”

She’d never told Sam about the stun grenade, and now was not the time for true confessions.

“Just a figure of speech.” She waggled her finger at Sam to change the subject. “But you know, there was a time I would have pegged Jason Burke as a killer.”

Sam stared at her for a long moment but eventually went with the flow. No questions asked. “Yeah, me too. But get this. That jerk was fencing stolen merchandise on
eBay
.”

“No, say it ain’t so.” Jess had to laugh. “Him sitting behind a computer would be a stretch, but having the balls to sell online is real chutzpah.”

“Kind of creative, actually. With the anonymity of the Internet and the lack of online controls to monitor that kind of thing, Jason Burke was living on the cutting edge of technology…until we arrested him.”

“Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.” Jess grinned. “Speaking of a
real
nice guy, how’s Ray?”

“Ray is damned fine, sista.” Sam crooked her lip into a lazy smile and lowered her eyes, lost in a memory. And Jess couldn’t be happier for her childhood friend.

“Yeah, I’d second that,” she agreed. “And whatever came of that bet you two had? Now that Harper’s a free man, you have to spill the details.”

“Ray acknowledged that I won, but I think he knew I tag teamed him by using your help and Alexa’s. But the way I worked it, we’ll both win.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a real tease, Sam Cooper?”

Her friend knew how to milk a story, so Jess settled into her seat with an elbow on the table and her chin resting on her palm.

“You love him, don’t you?”

Sam looked as if she’d object or deny, but in the end she only smiled. “I was going to have him paint my house, but after he kissed me, I came up with another idea. Now we’re taking a long-overdue vacation together. I pick the place, and he pays.”

“Sounds nice,” Jess admitted. “And what if he had won?”

“He told me he wanted me to cook for him, some family recipes from his mother. No pressure there.”

Unlike her, Sam was an excellent cook. She would have aced any test Ray could have conjured up.

“Ah, that’s kind of sweet.” Jess cocked her head. “In a ‘me Tarzan, you Jane’ sort of way. Add candles, ditch the chimp, and I see real romance potential.”

Sam chuckled. “No matter how it would’ve turned out, if I got more time with him, I would’ve been a winner either way.”

“I’m happy for you, Sammie. No one deserves love more than you.” She raised her glass. “I feel that we’ve both made it through a dark tunnel and come out on the other side, together. So let’s drink to new beginnings.”

“To new beginnings.” Her friend held up her glass and took a sip.

Jess drank to Sam’s prospects. Her friend had always lived a charmed life compared to hers. Despite the fact that Sal Pinzolo would no longer be a threat—and she could stop sleeping with her Colt Python under her pillow—too much remained unsettled in Jess’s life to make her feel good about her future. And although she had come full circle, with the destruction of Millstone’s mansion closing that chapter in her life, she felt restless and anxious for something new to happen.

Without having any idea what it should be.

A week later

The morning held the promise of an early fall as a crisp breeze jostled the trees of the Chapel Hill Cemetery. Not a cloud marred the pale blue sky. If not for the nip in the air, the day had the feel of spring and new beginnings.

A strange contrast to why she’d come.

Dressed in a dark pantsuit and holding a dozen white roses, Jess spotted Harper standing alone by a grave, staring down at the modest headstone. Since his usual Jerry Springer tee and jeans weren’t fitting for the solemn occasion, Seth wore a navy suit and gray-striped tie, looking more like the man Alexa had talked about.

Why hadn’t she seen it before?

When she got closer, he looked up, not hiding his sadness—not from her.

“Hey, Jessie.” He took a deep breath. “When I said I’d be here this morning, I really didn’t expect you to come. But I’m glad you did.”

She’d come for him. And despite not knowing Mandy, she’d come to recognize the occasion and acknowledge her passing from this life. In the end, she felt a connection to her. Mandy had been a girl unable to deal with what life had dished out. And thanks to Seth, he’d helped her see beyond the labels of hooker and drug addict to find the human being Mandy Vincent had been before she met Danny Ray Millstone. Except for the mercy of a higher power—or a fortunate roll of the dice—Jess might have turned out the same.

She placed her roses at the base of the headstone, next to the elegant pastel lilies he had brought. Jess smelled the earthy aroma of the freshly turned soil at her feet. And she watched a hawk make lazy circles in the sky, content to stand next to Harper in silence until she found a way to comfort him.

“You picked a real nice spot, Harper.” She stared across the horizon and took a breath. “It’s peaceful.”

Seth had paid for Mandy’s funeral expenses. She’d been buried two days ago, with Jess and a handful of others in attendance, but today would have been her birthday. Mandy would have been twenty-three years old.

“You know, Jake told me that you made a difference with her.” She watched the breeze blow his hair, but he didn’t look up. “She had gone to him for money, to start a new life somewhere else. I think that’s why she called you…that day.”

He turned to look at her, a questioning expression on his face. She could tell he didn’t believe what she said.

“Despite Jake being an asshole”—she furrowed her brow—“I don’t think he lied about that.”

When a tear rolled down Seth’s cheek, she knew he was struggling to find the words to share what he was feeling. And she was content to let the quiet moment linger between them.

“I was the one who got her killed,” he said. “I put her in the line of fire.”

“No, you only tried to help her.” She touched his arm. “Mandy made the wrong choices in her life, long before you came along. I think meeting you gave her hope…that things could change for her.”

He shut his eyes tight, then slowly looked down at her grave.

“No really, just think about it. You have…” She tugged at his sleeve until he looked into her eyes. When he did, her breath caught in her throat. “…such a big heart. This wasn’t only about your father and your search for the kids in his casebook. Once you found who you were looking for…”

His eyes made it hard for her to continue—especially when her gaze lingered on his lips. She swallowed and took a deep breath.

“…you wanted to make a difference. And you have. Believe me, you have.” She nodded and let go of his arm. “I mean, you did. With Mandy.”

For an instant, his eyes softened and his guilt-ridden grief faded long enough for her to imagine he might kiss her again. She held her breath, waiting for that moment. That second chance. But when he didn’t, she saved face by shifting the conversation.

“So…have you reconciled your past with Max? I mean, are you still planning on using that old case file to track down the kids he saved? I know it’s none of my business now, but—”

He stared at her, blinking. The shift in topic had thrown him. He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know, Jessie.” He shook his head. “When I found you, I realized you were a strong, capable woman, making it on your own. You didn’t need me. Mandy was different. If I did make a difference with her, maybe I should still pursue this…quest of mine. And you’re right. It’s not about my father anymore.”

“Oh, I think Max has a great deal to do with this.” She grinned, feeling the heat of her blushing cheeks. “You inherited his good-guy genes…and his courage. You’ve had a connection to your father all along, smart guy.”

Seth nudged his lips into a crooked half smile, an expression Jess wanted to remember. And after he touched Mandy’s headstone one more time, he headed for his car. Jess walked with him, but halfway there she got a call on her cell. She reached into her pocket and recognized the number. Area code 907. Payton Archer.

“I gotta take this. It won’t take long,” she assured him. “Don’t leave me—”

He interrupted her by saying, “Never.”

“At least, not without saying good-bye,” she added.

Seth watched her walk away, but not before he saw her smile, and say, “Hey, Payton. Yeah, it’s good to hear your voice too.”

And his heart sank.

He should have been happy for her. Jessie had found someone she cared about, yet seeing her happy with another man only made him miserable. It had been the reason he had walked out of her life months ago, something he’d never told her. He could see being a friend to her eventually, but his heart wasn’t ready to let go.

Most men would see Payton Archer—a former NFL quarterback—as a major rival. But Payton was a good man and not the problem. It was Jessie. She thought of him as a kid and had no feelings for him beyond friendship. And hearing the phrase “let’s be friends” would zap the love muscle out of commission. He couldn’t face hearing those words from her.

By the time he got to his Mustang, he blocked out the world by plugging music into his ears as he waited for Jessie. When Secondhand Serenade launched into “Fall For You,” he slumped against his passenger door and shut his eyes, letting the lyrics do a number on his heart. He was so rapt in his misery that he never saw Alexa walk up. She pulled the earbuds out to get his attention.

“Hey there, Harper.” She slid next to him and nudged his shoulder with hers. “I came by to steal you away. Nothing fancy. Just you and me.”

“I thought you left town after the funeral.” He let his eyes search for Jessie. When he found her, he wished he hadn’t. He heard her laugh from where he stood.

“No, I thought you might need a friend.” Her hand brushed his hip as she leaned against his car.

“A friend, huh?” he asked, finding it hard to hide his disappointment at hearing the word “friend” from another woman.

“For starters,” she said in a low husky voice.

His eyes grew wide when Alexa raised an eyebrow and lowered her gaze to his lips and beyond. But she shocked him even more when she loosened his tie. She straddled his legs and leaned close, tugging at his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, not taking her eyes off his. He swallowed, hard. And when her perfume drifted to him on the wind, goose bumps raced across his skin. And his reaction had nothing to do with the chill of a stiff breeze.

“Don’t you want to hear what I have in mind?” She winked.

Jess ended her conversation with Payton, promising she’d call later when she had more time. After the fire, she’d called him, and they had talked. And he’d called to check on her several times since then, yet with the time difference between Alaska and Illinois, they had played phone tag all day. A part of her wished he lived closer to Chicago. The close emotional bond they had formed, while searching for his niece, had been hard to live without these past few months. But Jess knew in her heart that a visit from Payton would only complicate things.

She’d been in denial and had to deal with her feelings for Seth, whatever they might be.

Was she trying to sabotage her long-distance relationship with Payton, protecting her heart before he broke it off? Or were her feelings for Harper real? Two good men. And she had no idea if the choice was even hers to make. Maybe both of them would open their eyes and see her more clearly—a familiar pattern she’d noticed for the men in her life.

When she headed toward Seth, she looked up to see Alexa unbuttoning his shirt. The intimacy of her stance disturbed her. And Harper couldn’t take his eyes off the tall blonde.

“Damn it, Beckett,” she muttered.

Jess veered toward the van, hoping they wouldn’t see her. She had no right to be jealous. She’d cleared the path for Alexa. And Seth deserved a good woman in his life. But if she truly believed that, why did she have this damned lump in her throat?