Faith, Honor & Freedom (7 page)

I turn away from her and find our lead of Forensics, James. “Tell me you have something on this sick fucker,” I bite out.

“Looks like he was pretty rushed. She’s not as beaten as the other girls were on first look. She was definitely raped, but I’m guessing he wore a condom. I’m not seeing any forensic evidence just yet, but I’m hopeful. He can’t get away with this forever. Sooner or later, he’s going to slip up,” James says, disgusted.

“You’re a hell of a lot more optimistic than I am, James,” I say, turning to survey the room.

I check her windows—no sign of forced entry. Windows aren’t locked, though, so it would have been easy enough to slip in unnoticed. No matter how many times you warn people about locking their doors and windows, everyone seems to think they’re immune to tragedy.

I walk around the house, looking for something, anything. A boot print, a fingerprint, a fucking hair. Anything. Nothing looks out of place, and the whole house reeks like bleach and ammonia.

I’ll bet, rushed or not, he went over the victim with a fine-tooth comb before he washed her dead body to cover any evidence. I notice a picture frame sitting on the mantle of what looks to be the victim with her mother, father, and four siblings.

“Parker,” I shout out. “Have you sent anyone to inform the rest of the family yet?”

“Cruz and Peters are on it,” he replies.

“I’m going to head back to the station, see what I can dig up on the victim, and maybe question her sister. I’ll try and set up a timeline of what she did last, where she frequented, see if I can get something.”

“I’ll meet you back there,” Parker says, turning back toward the bedroom.

I drive slowly past Lana’s house, but her lights are still out. I check my messages, there’s nothing. I call her over, and over again. On the thirteenth time, she finally answers.

“Jesus fuck, Lana, where are you?” I ask impatiently. I know it’s not her fault, but I’m on edge from seeing Jenny like that, and I just want to see Lana with my own eyes so I know she’s okay.

“I’m out for a drive,” she replies, and I know she’s purposely being vague.

“One of your neighbors was killed last night,” I say harshly and hear her gasp. “And no, it wasn’t Violet,” I add so she doesn’t worry.

“Please, take me back home,” I hear her whisper to her date, and I know she’s crying already. My sweet Lana, so sensitive and caring, and here I am being a prick, ruining her night. “Who?” she asks.

“Jenny Owens.”

“No, you’re lying! I just saw her a few days ago … she was fine,” Lana says, choking back sobs.

“Where are you, Lana, I’m coming to get you.” I hate that she’s hurting so badly and with some fuckwad who doesn’t even know her. I probably shouldn’t have told her about Jenny over the phone, but I didn’t want her to hang up on me either.

“I’m on Jackson Mountain Road,” she says uncertainly. “Alec, can we please turn around?” I hear her ask again.

“Why the fuck are you all the way out there?” I yell. There’s absolutely nothing, and nobody, out there. Who the hell takes someone on a date out there? I pull off her street and speed toward the highway. Fuck the station, I’ll get there soon enough.

“We were going on a picnic,” she says quietly.

“Lana, you don’t even know this guy. It’s almost nine o’clock at night!” I yell, frustrated. “Did he turn around yet?”

“No,” she says uncomfortably.

“Stay on the phone with me, Lana. I’m about five minutes out. Tell him to turn around.”

“Okay,” she says, moving the phone away from her mouth. “Alec, a friend of mine has died. I really need to get back home, so can we please turn around?” I hear her ask. My heart is fucking thumping in my chest, and I almost regret bringing my gun with me. I want to kill this fucker, and he’s probably just pissed off he’s not getting laid tonight like he thought he would be. I listen carefully to see if he answers. I can’t hear what he says, but he seems pissed off. I put the pedal to the floor, and thank God for light traffic. That, and being a cop sometimes has its perks. I put on my lights and speed toward her.

“Lana, what’s he saying?”

“He’s turning around,” she says quietly, and I breathe a small sigh of relief. It never fails; Lana seems to attract every asshole on Earth. They think with their dicks and not their heads. Sometimes, I can’t blame them. She’s the most beautiful person, inside and out. But nobody is good enough for Lana, especially not me. I pull off the highway and, not long after, onto Jackson Mountain Road.

“Are those your headlights I see?”

“Yes.”

“Tell him to pull over,” I order.

“Can you pull over?” Lana asks. I watch as his car slows down and pulls over to the shoulder of the dirt road we’re travelling on. I hang up the phone and jump out of my truck. The passenger side door of the silver car opens, and Lana slips out, tears in her eyes.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“I’m fine Hoss, just really sad. I’ve known Jenny for years. She has like ten nieces and nephews who are always out playing in her yard.” I just want to pull her into my arms, and protect her, never letting her go. Instead, I nod, and help her into the truck. I walk back over to the shitty sports car, attempting to cool my temper.

“What the fuck was that all about?” I clip. The smug bastard shrugs his shoulders.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was just taking
my
girl out for a drive,
Officer,”
he says, spitting the last word out like it’s venomous.

“Stay the fuck away from her. She will
never
be
your
girl,” I spit out quietly so Lana can’t hear me.

“Sorry Officer, I think she enjoys screaming my name,” he says smugly, and my mind races back to the scene in Lana’s room.
Him.
It takes everything I have in me not to pull out my gun and shoot the asshole. Instead I slam the door shut on his girly car and jump back in my truck. I throw my belt on and peel out ahead of him. He can kiss my ass the whole way home.

I look over at a very solemn looking Lana. “How are you doing, Sunshine?” I ask, wiping a tear from her cheek.

“I’m okay. You didn’t have to come get me, though; he would have taken me back.” Yeah, sure as fuck seemed like it.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Thanks Weston, that means a lot.”

There it is again; I’m a fucking bastard, considering the situation, but the second she says my name, my dick responds. I shift uncomfortably in my seat.

We pull back onto the highway, and I notice fuck head isn’t behind me. Guess he’s gone back to blow out his shitty candles. That’s not romance, that’s fucking desperation.

“I need to head back to the station to interview her sister. The street’s a little crazy right now. I can either take you to your parents’, or I can take you to the station with me,” I offer, hoping like fuck she picks me. And isn’t that the story of my life. Can’t have her, but that doesn’t mean I’m not a sadistic prick who wants her around me all the time either.

“What time is it?” she asks.

I glance down at my watch. “It’s a little after nine.”

“They’re definitely in bed,” she says, and I nod. Her parents were always in bed by eight o’clock. It made sneaking out of there easy when we were kids.

“How about I get you some take out and you can eat it in my office while I interview Jenny’s sister? I shouldn’t be long.”

“That sounds good. I’m starved.”

“Are you sure she would have told you if she was seeing someone?” I ask Jenny’s sister, Tracey, one last time.

“I’m sure,” she says through a sniffle. “Jenny and I were really close, always have been. She hasn’t seen anyone in years now. She lived for her nieces and nephews and was as much of a parent to them as we are … Oh God, what am I going to tell my kids?” She breaks down now, placing her hands over her face and letting the sobs wreak havoc on her frail body. I pass her the box of tissues again. I’m not supposed to physically comfort her, so I keep my distance.

“I’m really sorry, Tracey.”

“Me too,” she says. “Please, please just find whoever did this. Don’t let him hurt anyone else. Don’t let him hurt my children.”

“I promise, we’ll do our very best. Do you know what she was doing last night?”

“She was home all night, by herself. I talked to her around ten o’clock. She was just going to watch
Grey’s Anatomy
and go to sleep. I should have invited her over.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Tracey. You couldn’t have stopped this,” I say, reassuring her. “Thank you, for coming in and talking to me. I promise you we will do everything in our power to make sure he‘s behind bars. Now go and be with your family. Do you need a drive home?”

“Please,” she says. “An officer drove me here.”

I make arrangements for Henry to drive her home and fight the urge to punch something. This piece of shit just shattered the lives of a huge, once happy family. That’s not something I will ever let go unpunished.

Chapter 6

I toss my phone down on Hoss’s desk. It’s past midnight now, and while I should be ready for bed, I only woke up five hours ago. I called Violet to let her know all that’s been happening. She isn’t going home tonight anyway, and probably not tomorrow either. Poor little Gavin developed an infection in his incision site and is now being treated with intravenous antibiotics.

When I get off the phone with Vi, I place an order for her favorite Chinese food and a bouquet of flowers to be delivered to their room. Sure, it was ten o’clock at night, but hospital food sucks, and I knew she would be up all night worried about him. As much as I want to go see her, and make sure they’re both okay, visiting hours are over, and I’m sure she just wants to rest as much as possible.

I look around Hoss’s office, which could definitely use a woman’s touch. Well, that and a maid. I get up and busy myself around the room, cleaning and organizing what I’m able to. I try not to snoop but when an email pops up on his computer from Emma, I can’t stop myself from opening it.

Weston,

I can’t tell you how disappointed I am that work stole our night together … again! I don’t see you often enough anymore. I’m beginning to think you’re seeing somebody else. There is NOBODY better than I am, Weston Hoss, and I hope you smarten up and see that soon. If you don’t put a ring on this finger soon, there will be other men waiting in line to take your place, sugar.

Emma xo

Ring? I don’t think Hoss is serious with anybody. I can’t remember him having a steady girlfriend in the past ten years—not to mention, I know he’s been with plenty of other women over the last few months. Maybe I was wrong, though; maybe he has changed. I feel a twinge of jealousy, but quickly push it aside. It’s not my place to be jealous. Never has been, and never will be. I mark the email as unread, and exit out of the program. I continue to clean, until a grumpy looking Hoss storms into his office.

“Let’s go,” he orders, looking around. “What the hell did you do to my office?”

“You’re welcome,” I say sarcastically. I never expected an elated Hoss, but a thank you would have been nice. Especially after the night I’ve had.

“Thanks,” he says dryly. “Now grab your phone, and let’s go.” I pick up my phone and follow him out of his office, and then out of the station.

“I’m guessing that didn’t go well,” I say as I pull on my seatbelt inside his truck.

“Once again, I’ve got zilch. I’m at a loss and pissed off. She wasn’t seeing anybody, hadn’t said she met anyone suspicious, and so far, there’s not much at the crime scene, aside from the fact that he didn’t have time to brutally beat her first.”

I cringe at the thought of what poor Jenny must have gone through. Her last moments on this Earth were spent in fear and pain. I glance out the window, wondering if I’ll miss out on all of the same things she did. Jenny was never married, never had kids of her own, and now she would never have the chance. I could die tomorrow, and have missed out on everything as well. It just doesn’t seem fair.

I pull away from my thoughts and notice that Hoss isn’t headed in the direction of my house. Where the hell is he going?

“You honestly can’t be hungry again, Weston,” I joke. He lets out a small groan and shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Well, maybe he can be.

“Nope.”

“Well, where are we going?” I ask.

“My condo.”

“Why? Can’t you drop me off first?” I ask, confused.

“Jenny was killed on your street tonight. There’s no way you’re sleeping there alone,” he says, a little angrily.

“Hoss, I’ve got the stupid security system you had installed at the house, I’ll be fine,” I promise, before wondering if that’s actually true. Truth be told, I’m a little on edge and sitting in my house all night, worrying, doesn’t exactly sound all that appealing.

“Which would be great, if you ever turned it on.”

“I will, pinky promise.”

“Come on, Lana. You can have my bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch. Please, just give me this. Let me know you’re safe.” The way he says it pulls at my heart. I know he’s thinking back to Rhett—he couldn’t protect him the day he was killed, and I know it eats him alive. I’ve tried to get him to talk to someone about it, but he refuses.

“If you think I’m sleeping on the same bed dozens of dirty pussies have slobbered on, you are very, very wrong. I’ll take the couch.”

Hoss grumbles, but I know I’ve got him there. We park in the underground parking lot in his building, and take the elevator up to his condo. It’s beautiful inside; everything is sleek, black, stainless steel, and leather. It’s definitely a bachelor pad. I take off my shoes and walk into his kitchen, which is just off his front entryway. The cupboards are black, and the tiles behind them are shiny chrome. The countertops are black granite, mixed with tiny flecks of silver, and the appliances are stainless steel. Together, it looks phenomenal. Sometimes I wish my house was this modern. I mean my house isn’t super dated or anything, but it’s worn in and could probably use an upgrade. I have no idea where to even start, though, and it feels wrong changing the last real piece of Rhett I have.