Love Inspired Suspense June 2014 Bundle 2 of 2: Forced Alliance\Out for Justice\No Place to Run (30 page)

She hadn't taken the ring. Instead, she'd jumped to her feet and started rambling about how she was leaving for school, and that it wasn't fair for her to tie him down and expect him to wait for her, and how they both needed to be free to date other people. He had left that evening with a lump in his throat and a hole in his heart.

But he wasn't going to think about that. Now he was with her, and God was possibly giving them a second chance.

“No, what's significant about this spot?”

“This is where you kissed me for the first time.”

He grinned down at her. “Are you sure about that?”

“Positive. It was after the Memorial Day cookout. We had just finished watching fireworks and were walking around the lake. And you stopped right here and kissed me.”

“Then you're right. It
is
a special place.” He released her hand to wrap his arm around her and pull her to his side. The memory she brought up stirred something in him, carrying him back to those early days, when love was new and the future was bright with promise. Would it be even sweeter the second time around?

He had promised her he would take it slow. But how slow was slow? He could really use some clarification. Because he was so ready for a replay of that first kiss.

He cleared his throat and reined in his thoughts. His safest bet was to let her set the pace. When she was ready, he would know. At least that was what he hoped.

She sighed and stretched out her legs in front of her, crossing them at the ankles. “You know, after Dad died, I used to come down here a lot. Mom thought I had gone back home, but I was right here, sitting, staring out at the lake, trying to find answers.”

“Did you ever find any?”

“Nope, never did.”

“If the question is why, sometimes the answer doesn't come until after this life is over. God sees the big picture, and we just have to trust Him to get us through the rough places.”

“I have a hard time serving a God who allows so much evil in the world.”

He smiled over at her, his tone gentle. “You don't want anyone to try to control you, but you're expecting God to do just that.”

“What do you mean?”

“He created us with free will. Evil is never part of His plan, but He allows us to make our own choices, even if those choices hurt ourselves and others. God didn't create us to be a bunch of puppets.”

She heaved a sigh and seemed to sag against him. “I'm just tired of people dying.”

The sadness in her tone stabbed through him and he pulled her closer, longing to somehow soothe away her pain. It wasn't just Prissy and Kayla and her father. There were countless others she had encountered whose lives had been snuffed out before their time. Being a homicide detective had to wear a person down, especially someone as compassionate as Lexi.

She hiked up her shoulders, then let them fall, as if shaking off the melancholy that had descended on her. Lexi was compassionate, but she was also strong, and she wouldn't let herself wallow in sadness for long.

She pushed herself to her feet to continue her course around the lake. When they reached his car, he turned to face her. “How about taking in a movie with me?”

She gave him an apologetic smile. “I think I'm going to pass. As much as I've enjoyed our outing, I should probably be getting home.”

Disappointment washed over him. “Already?”

“I wanted to run the names Lysandra gave us through the database. If we can talk to her friends, maybe one of them will remember Gary's full name.”

“Can't you just goof off this afternoon? Even God took a day off. He spent six days creating the world, then rested on the seventh.”

“I can't take a day off as long as women are dying.”

Yeah, she would look at things that way. He opened the passenger door for her to slide into the seat. “Anything I can help with?”

“Not tonight. When I get some addresses and phone numbers, I'll have you help me contact them.”

A few minutes later he braked to a stop in his driveway, right next to the blue Mazda. He had wanted to pick her up, but she had insisted on meeting him, saying she needed to check on her mother anyway.

So now she was getting ready to drive home. Alone.

“How about if I follow you?”

She leaned back against her car and smiled up at him. “That's not necessary. I'll be fine.”

He stepped closer. There was more he wanted to say. But he had been putting it off, because he knew it would be a point of contention between them. They could discuss it all day long and probably never agree.

But he had to try to talk some sense into her.

“Lexi, you're the spitting image of the young Lysandra.”

She tensed. “I know. I saw the photo the same time you did.”

He ignored the annoyance in her tone. “What if the killer has realized that fact, too?”

“I'm being careful.”

“I know you are. But I'm worried about you. Ever since I saw that picture, I haven't been able to get it out of my mind.”

Her gaze softened and she reached up to put both of her hands on his cheeks. “My job has its risks. If we're going to make this work, you're going to have to accept that and trust me to make the right decisions.”

“All right.” He gave a small nod and she lowered her hands. He should probably step back and give her some space. But he couldn't get his feet to obey.

And she didn't seem to be in any more of a hurry to leave than he was to let her leave. She stood staring up at him, gaze warm and lips slightly parted. A fresh, clean fragrance drifted to him, some kind of lavender-scented hand lotion or body wash, the same scent that had teased him off and on at intervals throughout the afternoon.

What would she do if he kissed her? He had refrained all afternoon. Was that slow enough?

Maybe so. Because the next moment she stood on her tiptoes and brushed a soft kiss across his lips. “Look, I'll call when I get home. I promise.”

He stood frozen, fighting for control, afraid that if he moved he would crush her to him and kiss her back. And it wouldn't be a sweet, casual peck. Finally he stepped away and forced a smile.

“All right. If I don't hear from you within thirty minutes, I'm sending out the search parties.”

As he watched her back out of the drive and start up the road, his heart clenched. Somewhere out there was a killer. And Lexi was vulnerable. After six long years, he was so close to winning her back. He couldn't lose her again.

Lord, please protect her.

Her taillights disappeared from view and he turned to walk into the house. His recliner beckoned, but he didn't bother to settle into it. There was no way he could sit still. Instead he began to pace the living room. If only she would go stay with her mom. Or take in a roommate. Or let him sleep on the couch.

But he knew Lexi. And she would do none of those things. She was far too independent. There was nothing he could do.

Actually, there was something he could do. He stopped pacing and pulled out his phone. Maybe she wouldn't let anyone stay with her. But she couldn't stop people from checking on her.

He punched in a now familiar number. Tomlinson answered on the first ring.

“Hi, Sarge, it's Alan White.”

“Is Lexi all right?”

“She's fine right now. But I was wondering if you could have some units drive by her place on a regular basis and check on her. I'm worried about her.”

“Is something going on that I need to know about?” His tone was heavy with suspicion.

“Yeah, we found Lysandra and talked to her. I'll let Lexi fill you in on the details. But we're pretty sure that the next victim is going to be someone who looks like Lysandra did ten years ago.”

“What's that got to do with Lexi?”

“Ask her to show you Lysandra's picture. She and Lexi could be sisters.”

“Oh, that's not good.” Tomlinson was concerned. Alan didn't need to see the worried frown or creased brow. It all came through the phone.

“Lexi isn't going to back down. And though I don't agree with her, I understand. She's determined to find her cousin's killer and doesn't want to leave it in someone else's hands.”

“Kayla Douglas was Lexi's cousin?”

Uh-oh, he had said too much. “Please don't tell her I told you. I just wanted to let you know what kind of danger she's in so everyone can be watching out for her.”

“We'll do that. Thanks for letting me know, son.”

Alan ended the call and laid his phone on the end table. Conflicting emotions churned in his gut—relief that other deputies would be watching out for her, and fear that she would find out he talked to Tomlinson.

And regret. Because he had no doubt that she
would
learn of the conversation. And when she did, she would be furious.

Whatever walls had come down over the past two days would go right back up.

And she would be lost to him all over again.

TEN

L
exi stood at the watercooler, watching the ice-cold water slowly fill her thirty-two-ounce 7-Eleven mug. Ever since that morning's briefing, she had been holed up in her cubicle, searching databases, poring over names, trying to gather contact information. She was getting closer. She had already made contact with two of Lysandra's friends. She had the contact information of three others, but hadn't yet had any luck getting hold of them. The last four were still at large.

She released the lever to stop the flow of water and took a long swig. It wasn't until she turned that she realized a line had formed behind her. A line of one anyway.

She smiled up at Greg, the newest detective in the unit. “Sorry. I didn't mean to hog the watercooler.” She stepped aside. “Help yourself.”

“No problem. I'm not in that big of a hurry.” He moved his cup to his left hand, then held out his right. “I don't think we've been properly introduced. Greg Morganson.”

She took his extended hand. “Lexi Simmons.”

“I'm pleased to meet you, Lexi. I've heard a lot of good things about you. You're well respected.”

“Thanks.”

She turned and walked back to her cubicle, leaving Greg filling his cup. He was being friendly, and she hoped she came across as being friendly back. But she wasn't there to socialize, she was there to work. And as long as she held that attitude, it would keep her out of trouble. She wasn't sure which was worse, office politics or office romance. She avoided both.

She had just settled in at her desk when a large figure filled the opening to her cubicle. Tomlinson might be close to retirement age, but he hadn't lost any of his bulk.

She smiled up at him. “How's it going?”

“Can I see you in my office?”

It was phrased as a question, but she had no doubt. It was a command, not a request.

She sprang to her feet and followed him past a stretch of cubicles to one of the offices at the edge of the bay. Whatever he had to say, he wanted more privacy than what the cubicles offered. That by itself didn't concern her. His stern manner did. A thread of uneasiness slid through her mind.

He closed the door behind her, then motioned toward one of the two chairs that faced his desk. “Have a seat.”

Once he had settled into the padded office chair, he leaned back, fingers intertwined over his abdomen. “So how did your trip to Ybor go?”

“Very productive. We have a first name. And we have a picture. Unfortunately, it's from the back. So all we know about him is that he has brown hair and is thin, or was at the time. And he doesn't look good in pink tulle.”

Tomlinson cocked a brow at her.

“It's a long story. Anyway, five of her friends bear a strong resemblance to the five victims, and a sixth looks a lot like Denise.”

“And what about Lysandra herself?”

Tomlinson's pose was still relaxed. But there was something about the way he asked his question. Her uneasiness intensified.

“Dark hair, heavy makeup. Pretty tough.”

“Dark hair, huh?”

“With purple streaks.”

“How about ten years ago?”

Okay, she was busted. And she was pretty sure she knew who had ratted her out. “Blond.”

“Like you?”

“Like me.” She gave him a tense smile.

He didn't return it. “Why didn't you tell me you were related to one of the victims?”

“I was afraid you would take me off the case.”

“You lied to me, Lexi.”

“No, I didn't lie. I told you I knew Kayla.”

“You withheld important information.”

Her eyes drifted to her lap and she took a stabilizing breath, trying to gather her wits. If she didn't do some fast talking, he was going to assign someone else to lead the investigation.

She brought her gaze back to his and kept it there, unwavering. “Sir, I'm sorry I wasn't completely honest with you. But I was afraid you would make me step down. And this case is important to me. It was before Kayla was killed. And it's even more so now. We're making headway. Please let me continue. Please don't take this away from me.”

Tomlinson stared at her, his dark eyes unreadable. If the sternness had lessened, it wasn't by much.

Finally he sighed. “Lexi, you're one of my best detectives. But you're too close to this. It's way too personal for you.”

“But that isn't affecting my performance. Look how far I've gotten.”

“But your relationship to Kayla could make you take bold risks. Unnecessary risks that you wouldn't take if it was just another murder investigation.”

“I won't. I'm careful. I know I can't do Kayla or the other victims any good if I'm dead.”

“You look like Lysandra, the next one on the killer's list, which makes you a shoo-in to be his next victim.”

Tomlinson was coming up with one reason after another. No problem. She would refute each argument as soon as it left his mouth.

“I can be bait. Better me than some naive young girl. I'm trained. This might be our best chance of catching this guy.”

“It's not safe. I'm not putting you in known danger. He's already threatened you.”

“We don't know that for sure. It could have been a prank. Anybody could have written it.”

“Sorry, Lexi. I'm assigning Detective Kaminski to take over the case. It's for your good and the good of the case.”

She heaved a sigh and her shoulders sagged. So she was well respected. A lot of good it was doing her now. “Sarge, please.”

He held up a hand, signaling the end of the discussion, and rose from the chair. “I want you to go over everything with him and bring him up to speed on these latest developments.”

She walked from his office, disappointment heavy in her chest. There was no changing his mind. Thanks to Alan, she was off the case. He had betrayed her.

She returned to her cubicle, gathered up her papers and threw her purse over her shoulder. It was lunchtime. Usually she would grab something from the Publix deli right up the road. But now she wanted to be alone.

What had she been thinking? How could she have even considered a future with Alan? She was better off alone.

She slid into the Mazda and tossed her purse and file into the passenger's seat. When she pulled into her driveway fifteen minutes later, her mood wasn't any better than it had been when she left the station. And it probably wouldn't improve until she had the opportunity to unload on Alan.

She wasn't going to let him off the hook on this for a long time, if ever. Getting close to him had somehow made him think he had the right to interfere in her life. She wouldn't excuse herself from the case, so he'd gone behind her back and had her removed. He was treating her just as her mother always had.

Well, she wasn't going to put up with it. After twenty years of living under her mother's controlling, manipulative thumb, she had won her independence. She wasn't about to trade it for the male version of what she had endured for most of her life.

She unlocked and pushed open the front door. As always, Suki met her in the foyer. If she took a sandwich into the living room and plopped down in front of the TV, she would probably have all three cats nestled in around her. The idea had appeal. An hour of Court TV, listening to someone else's problems instead of thinking about her own, and she would be ready to face the rest of her day.

This afternoon she would brief Detective Kaminski. It wouldn't take much. He had helped investigate the first four murders and had been initially involved in this one. So he was already well acquainted with the case.

This evening she would see if her mother needed anything. She had already confronted her about her lies. And she had been all profuse apology. But Lexi knew her mother's brand of apology. She wasn't sorry for her actions. She was just sorry she had been caught.

Then there would be one more Harmony Grove stop to make. Alan would probably be watching for her. He couldn't really expect her to accept his betrayal and go on as if nothing had happened. He had to know her better than that.

At least she'd realized her mistake before she'd gotten in too deep. There was no ring, no seriously hurt feelings on either end. They could both easily jump back to where they were a month ago—two professionals temporarily working together.

She slathered some mayonnaise on two slices of bread and piled on the cheese and lunch meat. Within moments of settling onto the couch she had company. Times three.

Alan had done her a favor. She was happy alone, and she really didn't want to upset her routine. She had been on her own too long, just her and her cats. And it was better that way. She was happy with her life.

But that didn't make Alan's actions hurt any less.

* * *

Alan drove slowly down Main Street, window down and arm resting in the opening. The sun sat low on the horizon, staining the western sky vibrant shades of orange, pink and lavender. Another sunny spring day coming to a close, another uneventful shift ended.

As he rolled past Pappy's Pizzeria on his way to the station, enticing aromas drifted to him on the early-evening breeze. His stomach rumbled an impatient response. It was tempting. But Pappy's was better shared. Tonight it would be iced tea and a frozen dinner for one in the company of evening sitcoms.

He cast a glance to his left where a huge oak occupied the vacant space between Dani's Bakery and Westbrook Insurance Agency. Two sets of legs dangled from one of the lower branches.

He frowned. Dani's had closed an hour ago, Westbrook two. No one had any legitimate reason to be hanging around either business. Probably a couple of kids up to no good.

He eased to a stop in one of the parallel parking spaces. As he stepped from the car, the legs disappeared. Yep, definitely up to no good.

And he was reasonably sure he could identify one of the culprits. Whenever there was any kind of shenanigans going on, Duncan Alcott was usually at the center of the mess.

By the time he had reached the other side of the street, sounds came from the tree—a whisper, followed by a harsh “Shh.” Whoever they were, they weren't being very stealthy.

He crossed the sparse lawn and stopped at the base of the tree. Two sets of eyes looked down at him. He zeroed in on the instigator, who had apparently tried unsuccessfully to hide a crinkled paper bag in a crook of the branch above him.

“Whatcha got there, Duncan?”

“Nothing.”

“Doesn't look like nothing to me. You wanna toss it down here? Otherwise I'll have to climb up there and get it, and that won't make me very happy. You don't wanna see me unhappy, do you?”

Duncan shook his head and reached for the bag. Alan waited. A moment later it dropped into his hands with a thunk and a muffled slosh. He didn't have to look into the bag to know that he wasn't holding Kool-Aid or Pepsi.

“Where'd you get this?”

“It's my dad's.”

“Correction. It
was
your dad's.” He unscrewed the lid and began to pour out the pungent substance.

“Aw, man. My dad's going to be ticked that you dumped out his booze.”

“Your dad needs to keep his booze out of the hands of minors.”

He shifted his attention to the other occupant of the tree, this one female.

“You don't look twenty-one, either.”

“No, sir, I'm sixteen.”

“So you're too young for this stuff, too.”

She shook her head, eyes wide. “Oh, no, sir, I don't drink.”

Right. No one ever admitted guilt, even when caught red-handed. Except for some reason, Alan was inclined to believe her. Maybe it was that clean, wholesome girl-next-door look. Maybe it was the sincerity and innocence in her eyes. That wasn't likely to last long, hanging with Duncan Alcott.

Which was a shame. She seemed like a nice girl. With blond hair and wispy features, she sort of reminded him of Lexi at that age. He had seen her before, but he didn't know her name. She and her family had moved to Harmony Grove about a month ago. And the past two Sundays they had occupied a pew not far from the front at Cornerstone Community Church.

“Do your parents know where you are?”

“Yes, sir. Well, no, not exactly. But they know that I went for a walk with Duncan. They just said I had to be back before dark.”

Alan cast a glance upward, where the sky was rapidly deepening to navy. “Then you'd better get moving.”

“Yes, sir. That's what I told Duncan right before you drove up.” She scrambled down out of the tree, Duncan right on her heels.

He watched them scurry toward the sidewalk, then called out, “Young lady?”

She turned, brows raised. “Yes, sir?”

“Be careful how you choose your friends.”

“Yes, sir.”

Something in her smile told him she knew exactly what she was doing. Maybe she was going to have a good influence on Duncan rather than the other way around. He hoped so. The kid needed some positive examples in his life.

He climbed into the cruiser and, two minutes later, swapped it for his Mustang. He had just cranked the engine when his phone began to ring. It was Tomlinson; he recognized the number. He touched the screen and pressed the phone to his ear.

Tomlinson's deep voice came through the phone, crisp and professional. “I'm calling to update you on some changes.”

Here we go.
“What kind of changes?”

“I've pulled Lexi off the case.”

He cringed. “I thought you might.”

“I'm putting Detective Sam Kaminski in charge. I want to still keep you in the loop because of your connection with Harmony Grove and the latest victim. Can you write this down?”

“Hold on.” He pulled a pen and notepad from the console. “Okay, shoot.”

Tomlinson repeated the name and rattled off a phone number. After finishing the call, Alan backed from the parking space. He would program the information into his phone when he got home.