Chasing Darkness (28 page)

“She’ll
be fine, Nick. She’s a very strong woman.”

“I’m
not worried about Mom.” Nick continued to stare out the window.

Gina
laughed. “You know, you can hear them from the porch off the den,” she said in
a hushed voice.

Nick
raised an eyebrow and then hurried through the kitchen to the den. At the
window, he looked through the shades. His mother and Sam were still facing the
garden, though neither of them appeared to be interested in the plants now. His
pulse dancing as though he was actually on surveillance, he tested the lock and
then unlatched the sliding door quietly. He watched his mother and Sam, but
neither looked back to the house. He eased the door open and let the shades
fall back.

Their
voices were low across the yard. Nick stepped onto the porch and pressed his
back to the wall. Sinking to the ground, he listened.

“I
grew up in a rough family,” his mother said.

Sam
was silent, and Nick longed to hear the sound of her voice.

“I’d
had boyfriends before Franklin, but no one like him. Where I grew up, it was
fight or be killed.”

Nick
watched Sam look at his mother.

“That’s
where I got this,” his mother said, pointing to the scar that ran along the
side of her neck. Nick concentrated on his mother’s words. All the kids had
asked her about it at one time or another, but she’d told them it was from a
cat when she was little.

“From
a man?” Sam asked.

His
mother nodded. “He didn’t like it when I told him I’d find my own way home. He
did this with a key.”

Sam
shuddered, and so did Nick. He pictured the ragged tear and wished he could get
his hands on the son of a bitch who had done that to his mother.

“Then
I met Franklin. He didn’t seem to care.” His mother laughed. “I mean he didn’t
care what it looked like. It didn’t bother him at all. ’Course, he wanted to
kill the guy that done it. That’s just men.”

They
fell silent for a minute.

“I
suppose what I’m saying,” his mother continued, “is that we all have scars of
one sort or another. For a while after we get them, we hide them and don’t let
anyone see. Then, later, maybe we hide behind them, use ’em to try to scare
people off from caring. That’s all fine for a while. Eventually, you have to
let them be part of who you are, instead of what you are. You’ve got to give
life another chance.”

“I
think I know what you’re saying,” Sam said. “But how—”

“I
just figured you would understand.” His mother bent down and picked a leaf from
a plant. “My son’s pretty smitten.”

Nick
rolled his eyes and silently banged his head against the outside of the house.

He
could hear the light ringing of Sam’s laugh. “Your son is a wonderful man,
Ella.”

His
mother handed Sam the leaf.

“I’m
glad you think so. That’s a mint leaf. My mama always said the smell of mint
drove men mad.”

Sam
took it and pressed the leaf to her nose.

“You
test it out for me, you hear?” Then his mother put her arm through Sam’s and
led her back toward the house.

Nick
stood up quickly and slipped back inside through the den door, sliding it
closed and clicking the lock into place. He got back to the kitchen just in
time to see them come through the back door.

Sam
smiled at him, and he was relieved to see she didn’t look furious or miserable
or both.

“Coffee
for anyone?” Gina asked.

“Please,”
Nick agreed.

Sam
took some, too, and they headed back into the living room.

Before
he could catch up with Sam, his mother caught his arm and pulled him back.

Nick
steadied his cup to keep the coffee from sloshing over the edge. “You were
about as obvious as a fox in a chicken coop out there,” she scolded.

Nick
grinned. “What are you talking about?”

“All
that fuss with the window shades, you could have waked the dead.” His mother
slapped his shoulder. “She’s a good woman, Nick. You treat her right. Now get
in there before she thinks you’re ignoring her.”

Nick
kissed his mother’s cheek and walked into the living room with a distinct
bounce to his step.

Deputy
Director of the Department of Justice Andy Corona dialed the number on his
pager and frowned. He’d like to know what jackass thought he could interrupt
his evening. He was trying to have a quiet night with his wife to celebrate
their anniversary. They’d just come home from a late dinner and dancing, which
was Elaine’s idea. He’d almost passed out on the dance floor. But now they were
home, and he just wanted to go to bed. It was after two in the morning. The
house was quiet, the kids were all sleeping at friends’ houses, he and his wife
had all morning to sleep in, and then his damn pager starts buzzing. Shit.

“Cintrello.”

Corona
raised an eyebrow. “It’s Corona here, Bob. How are you?”

“Doing
well, Andy. And you?”

“Good.”
He rolled his hand in the air as he played along with the bullshit routine.

“How
are the kids?”

Corona
answered with fake enthusiasm. “Driving me crazy, as usual.”

Cintrello
laughed. “I can relate, let me tell you.”

“I’m
surprised to hear from you on the weekend. Where are you?”

“I’m
at the station, actually.”

“Work?
Hell, I’m sorry to hear that. What’ve you got going on?”

“Same
thing as you, I’m afraid. I heard we just got another vic on the eucalyptus
case.”

Corona
hated the word “vic” for victim. What was the sense in cutting out three little
letters? How much time did it really save?

“Came
in about ten minutes ago.”

“Where?”

“Martinez.
Vic is a male Caucasian, early forties, multiple gunshot wounds.”

Corona
rubbed his fingers on his brow. “Your guys are on the scene?”

“Yep.”
Cintrello paused, as if he was gearing up to say something really important.

Corona
did his best not to fall asleep before he got it out.

“Three
of them out there now, but I want to hold off taking Chase and Thomas to the
scene.”

“Why’s
that?”

“Well,
Andy, I think we need to get Sam Chase checked out before she goes to any more
scenes.”

Corona
frowned. Politics told him to at least hear the jackass out before telling him
where to go. “I’m listening.”

“The
lab’s been working on the batteries, and they’ve got almost a full set of good
prints.”

“And
the outside was wiped clean? It’s too obvious. You think she wouldn’t have
known to wipe batteries?” Corona said, trying to make Cintrello realize what a
jerk he sounded like.

“Her
cases, ones she failed to lock up.”

“There’s
no way my agent is capable of murder,” Corona said.

“You
willing to stake your career on it?”

He
hesitated. Hell, yes, he thought quickly, and then he thought again. He
couldn’t screw it up, not this close to retirement.

“That’s
what I thought.”

Corona
bit his tongue.

“It’s
just to clear her, but the undersheriff wants it done and I’m not going to
argue.”

“Just
to clear her,” Corona repeated, wishing he could swallow that load of bullshit.

“To
rule her out, of course.”

“You’re
wrong.”

“I’m
not hanging my ass out on this one. Not after the shit that went down with
Yaskevich. The undersheriff’s going to draw blood if we’re wrong.”

Damn
John Yaskevich and his guns.

“And
we’ve got the psychological profile on her. Our guy thinks it could be a fit.”

Corona
shook his head. The profile had been part of her application to the department.
As far as Corona was concerned, any profile could be twisted into something
negative. The fact that Sam Chase had expressed her views on abusers was
unfortunate. But she’d never said anything about committing a crime. She’d
talked circles around killing abusers, making them finally pay for the
shattered lives they left behind. Some of it was extreme, but Corona thought it
made her all the more dedicated to her job.

The
flashlight was circumstantial. He’d been concerned at first. But, after hearing
about her failed brakes, on top of that business with the photo and the
exploding heater, he was leaning toward a setup. People touched batteries all
the time—no crime in that. Planting them at a scene would’ve been easy too. But
he had to admit it still looked suspicious, especially to someone as gun-shy as
the undersheriff. “I still don’t think you have any evidence that she committed
a crime.”

“Of
course I’m with you, Andy, but I think you ought to consider some CYA here.”

Corona
only half listened. Chase was Corona’s employee, so if she was a killer, it
would come back to haunt him, Cintrello was saying. He’d be smart not to get
caught in the crossfire. Corona wondered if this call had anything to do with
the fact that Chase was seeing Nick Thomas, one of Cintrello’s detectives. His
wife came into the room, and he put up his index finger, praying that Cintrello
would get to his point in the next minute.

“She’s
not capable, Bob. It’s a setup.”

“No
one wants to believe that more than me, Andy. She’s your best agent, but I
think it’s a liability to have her on the team right now. I think the
undersheriff would agree.”

“Are
you asking me to pull her off this case?” Corona tensed his jaw. First, they’d
asked for Chase to be on the case. Now they wanted her off. Fucking sheriff’s
department.

“Yes,
I am. And we’re checking her out.”

“Checking
her out?”

“A
judge is signing the warrant tonight.”

“A
warrant? For her home?”

“As
a precaution.”

Corona
paced his office and thought about his ruined evening. “Oh, Jesus, Bob. This is
ridiculous. It’s the middle of the damn night.”

“But
we’ve got another vic. If it’s her, I want to know now. And she’s not at home
now. It’s the perfect time.”

“You’re
going to serve a warrant at midnight to another cop? I think it’s crazy. At
least wait until morning.”

“Normal
procedure is to call Thomas and Chase to the case now,” Cintrello argued. “If
we think she’s involved, we can’t do that. Not even Thomas alone. We need to
know if she’s hiding something first. It’s all about covering ourselves, Andy.
I don’t want to find out she’s guilty later and not have checked it out.” He
paused. “The undersheriff agrees with me.”

Corona
shook his head and thought about his pension. Some days he would have loved to
just tell the department to shove it. If the undersheriff agreed, they had the
jurisdiction to go ahead without him. Damn it all. Chase deserved better, and
yet his hands were tied. He blew out his breath. “Fine, but keep it off the
wire. I don’t want this to be a fucking news event, Bob.”

“We’ll
be discreet.”

Corona
thought that was about the funniest thing he’d heard all day. His best agent
was about to be dragged through the wringer, and there wasn’t a goddamn thing
he could do about it but sit back and hope he could pick up the pieces
tomorrow.

“World’s
fucked up,” he muttered, sinking into his chair and leaning back. “Happy
fucking anniversary, Elaine. Happy fucking anniversary.”

They
had driven back to Nick’s apartment in near silence. Both of them knew where
they were headed, but Sam knew he’d had to be sure. He’d started to ask. She’d
simply touched his leg and nodded.

He
stopped the car and gripped the steering wheel with whitened knuckles.

“It’s
okay, Nick,” she whispered. “It’s what I want.”

“What
about the boys?” he asked.

“Derek’s
feeling better. The neighbor is staying the night,” she said.

He
turned to her and ran his knuckles across her cheek.

She
closed her eyes, concentrating on the feel of his touch and the smell of his
soap.

“Sam,”
he whispered, drawing her back. “Maybe we should wait—”

Her
eyes open again, she saw the worry in his. “I want to go in, Nick,” she said,
hearing her own voice crack as she spoke. She did want this. The unevenness in
her tone was not insecurity—it was raw excitement and nervousness. Nothing
more. “I want to be with you.”

He
took her hand. “I want you to be sure, Sam.”

She
nodded.

“I
want this—” He motioned between them. “I want us to last.”

She
smiled. “I do, too.”

He
rubbed his thumb across her cheekbone. “But the case and everything—it’s so
crazy right now.” He paused. “The accusations about you . . .”

“You
believe them?”

He
gripped her hand. “God, no. No, Sam. I don’t believe a word of it. But if
something happens, if they think you were involved—” He stopped.

She
pulled her hand loose. What was he talking about? “Is it your career? Are you
worried that being with me will ruin your chances for promotion?”

Nick
laughed out loud and pulled her to him, kissing her cheek. “Would you let me
finish? I’m just worried that you’ll push me away if things get complicated. I
don’t want that to happen. I don’t want to move too fast.” His lips were almost
touching hers. “I don’t want to scare you.”

She
put her hands on his face. His chin was rough against her fingertips, like worn
sandpaper. She ran her fingers down his neck. She could taste his breath, feel
it on her lips, on her skin. “Kiss me, Nick. Please don’t talk. Just kiss me.”

Nick
let out a soft sigh, his fingers shaking ever so slightly as he placed them on
her cheeks and pulled her to him. Then his lips touched hers, soft and warm
against her. His touch was exhilarating and sexy but strangely comfortable.

“Inside,”
she whispered. Pulling away, she stepped out of the car and walked to his front
door, feeling him behind her.