Morning Cup of Murder (9 page)

Consequently he spent his time preying on mostly innocent drivers who believed he was a typical small-town cop who loved nothing better than handing out speeding tickets, when in reality it was the part of his job he liked the least.

Well, almost the part he liked the least. The part he truly liked the least was standing by while the higher ups made stupid mistakes like arresting Lucinda Craig. If there was anyone less guilty of murder in the universe, Jason had yet to meet her. But what he had told Lacy was correct; he was a peon. Detective Brenner was a closed-minded jerk. If Jason had disagreed with him in any way, it would only have backfired and increased his bloodlust for the old woman. And the worst part was that Jason couldn’t tell Lacy he agreed with her. Knowing her the way he was beginning to, she would use the information to go off half-cocked and do something crazy, something that would get both of them in trouble.

He smiled, thinking of Lacy. She was so unexpected that he still couldn’t get over the shock of seeing her again. He would never forget that day a month ago when he had been walking down the street on one of his rare days off, minding his business, when a pretty redhead stepped out of the coffee shop and blinked up at the sun as if she were a mole seeing daylight for the first time. He had stopped short, realizing at once that she was new in town. He definitely would have remembered someone with curves like hers. With her long red-gold hair, grass green eyes and porcelain complexion, she was memorable, to say the least. She wasn’t beautiful, exactly, but attractive and captivating in a way he didn’t understand.

Then, and to his utter astonishment, she turned to look at him with recognition and he realized he
knew
her. Although he hadn’t been able to summon her name at first, he instantly recalled the vision of her from high school. She had been one of the smart kids who played in the marching band and worked on the yearbook. Only at that time she had been chubby with frizzy red curls, glasses and braces.

They hadn’t been friends in high school, but they hadn’t been enemies, either. In fact, their two worlds hadn’t intersected at all. Though they had gone to school with each other since kindergarten, they had never exchanged a word. So it was all the more amazing that he found himself angling toward her on the street that day, searching his brain for an opening line.

Since that time, he hadn’t been able to get her off his mind. He had tried, without success, to learn as much as possible about her. He still had no idea why she had returned to their Podunk town after living in
New York
, but he sensed there was a story. There was something about her that seemed hurt or broken in some way, and he found to his chagrin that the more time passed the more he longed to know her, really know her.

But, try as he might, he couldn’t gain a foothold with her. To say she was standoffish was putting it mildly. Oh, she watched him, but it was the same way an entomologist watches a fly, as if she were seeing something mildly interesting, but not interesting enough to tempt her. And that annoyed him--a whole lot.

He had dated a lot of girls and never once been rebuffed by someone he wanted. Although he knew it was a cliché, it annoyed him that Lacy seemed uninterested in him. Not that he wanted to date her. Despite his helpless attraction to her, he knew she wasn’t for him. She was too high maintenance.

Not that she was clingy or needy--quite the opposite. Lacy was one of those girls who was so independent, self-sufficient, and unassuming that it would probably be the guy who found himself constantly pursuing her. Jason was chagrined to admit that he liked to be needed and wanted. Maybe it was because he was a cop and had a strong protective instinct. Whatever the reason, he wanted to be the solid one in a relationship. He wanted to be adored and fawned over. Lacy wasn’t the fawning type. She was so proud and stubborn it would probably take a deathbed confession for her to ever admit to having feelings for anyone. And whatever had happened to her in
New York
had only worked to reinforce her protective shell. A guy would have to use a hammer and chisel to get at her heart again, and Jason just didn’t want to have to work that hard.

But even though he knew they were all wrong for each other, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Lately he had taken to baiting her just to get a rise out of her. Early on after her return, he had learned that her ironclad self control slipped whenever she was angry. Since then, he found himself teasing her, testing her limits and then relishing the outcome whenever he succeeded in making her angry.

He smiled. Lately he had made her angry a lot, like last night when she called him a high school has been.

His smile slipped and his look became thoughtful as he ignored the cars speeding past him. Last night he had come so close to giving in and kissing her. If she knew how much self-control he was exerting in her presence, she might cut him some slack. But he was doing both of them a favor by keeping things light. They were all wrong for each other, and they both knew it. He was football and fried food; she was Jane Austen and sushi. Both of them were too strong-willed to ever give an inch on anything. No doubt once the initial physical attraction burned itself out, they would end up fighting all the time. Jason had no plans to live his life that way, ever. In fact, he pretty much planned to stay single for the remainder of his life. Being alone meant never getting hurt, never giving too much, never having too much taken away. Occasionally on holidays he felt glimmers of loneliness, but for the most part he was happy with his carefree life. He had no plans to let anyone ruin the good thing he had going, especially not a pretty little redhead with a volcanic temper.

But even though he didn’t want to date her, he didn’t want anyone else to date her, either. He was humiliated to realize he was jealous not only of Buzz, the jailer she had effortlessly charmed, but of the mystery guy from the restaurant.

Who was this new guy, Tosh? And if he was so new, how had he been able to gain a foothold into Lacy’s life when Jason had been circling her for weeks without ever finding a crack in her defenses? His instincts went into overdrive imagining the worst about the newcomer. It was a felony to use law enforcement resources for personal motives, but Jason had never been more tempted to run a full background check on a non-criminal before.

Or maybe the man wasn’t as innocent as he appeared. Wasn’t it suspicious that this man arrived just when the town had its first murder in two decades? And how convenient that he should immediately hook up with their only suspect’s granddaughter.

Jason’s frown deepened to a scowl. Maybe he wouldn’t use official channels to investigate the new guy, but he could still make some discreet inquiries. In a town like theirs, someone always knew something. It was all a matter of finding the right person with the right information, which was exactly what needed to happen with the murder case.

The problem was that Detective Brenner had stopped asking. He thought he had tied up his case in a nice little package, and he had no need to keep searching for the truth. Meanwhile a sweet old lady was rotting in jail and the real killer was going free.

Jason’s frustration mounted again until it reached the boiling point. He was caught in the middle, wanting to do the job correctly, wanting to help Lacy, but unable to do a thing for fear of losing his job. Detective Brenner was second only to the sheriff in terms of power. When he said “jump,” it was Jason’s duty to say “how high.” It had never been easy to suffer under such a bumbling, overbearing man, but now Jason was almost at his breaking point. Having to keep his comments to himself and arrest Lacy’s grandmother had been close to the last straw. If something didn’t happen soon to change the situation, he was going to have to start taking matters into his own hands, job or no job.

With thoughts of his job came renewed focus. He glanced at his radar just as a car blew by him. Pulling out, he ran the car’s tags, realized he was pulling over a repeat offender with a suspended license, and smiled.
Sometimes it’s fun to be the one who gives people what they deserve
, he thought as he turned on his siren and increased his speed.

As he approached the car, he saw a crack pipe on the front passenger seat.
This is my lucky night.
Sometimes, like now when criminals were painfully stupid, Jason felt like the good guy. The man behind the wheel was high out of his mind, driving on a suspended license, and creating a possibly lethal problem for the community. Jason was fulfilling his purpose of keeping the community safe by arresting this man, especially because after he secured him in the back of the cruiser he found a loaded gun in the glove compartment. Some nights were good; most were not.

When backup arrived from the state patrol, he left the trooper to deal with the tow truck while he took his prisoner to jail. The process of booking the inmate and writing his report not only kept him busy for an hour, but kept his mind too occupied to think of anything else, namely Lacy.

He whistled when he left the station for one final patrol of the town. The night was almost over, and it had been a good one. Thanks to him, there was one less menace on the streets, and he could sleep well tonight knowing he had done his job.

Just as he was about to call it a night, he drove past the murder house. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he detected a flash of light. Knowing the state patrol was in the middle of a shift change, he decided to check into the situation a little more before he called them for backup. What if he was wrong? What if it was nothing? He would look like an idiot or, worse, he would look like a rookie.

He slid the car into neutral and turned it off, allowing it to glide to a stop some distance from the house. Since it was summer, there was still some light outside, but it was shadowy enough that his black uniform didn’t stand out. Placing his hand on his large flashlight, he crept around the side of the house. Just as he reached the last set of bushes at the corner of the house, the door burst open and a blurry form ran outside.

“Stop, police.” As was the law, Jason identified himself, but of course it had the opposite effect; the shadowy figure picked up the pace. Jason gave pursuit for a few houses before realizing he had lost his quarry. He stopped short, looking around the darkening neighborhood and feeling frustrated. How had he lost the person? Even though the suspect had a head start, Jason was a fast runner who should have easily been able to catch up. He wasn’t even winded from his pursuit as he stood looking around the yard, perplexed. It was as if the person had disappeared into thin air. Usually when a suspect fled he was so intent on getting away that he crashed through anything in his path, leaving sights and sounds as a clear path for any pursuing officer. Not today, though. There were no footprints, no trampled vegetation, and no sounds save for the crickets and frogs chirping nearby.

After another few seconds of inspecting the blank landscape, Jason turned and went back to the murder house. At the very least he could see what had been disturbed before he secured the scene.

Almost as soon as he slid open the back patio door and stepped inside, the hairs on his arm stood at attention. Someone was in this house. Not only could he sense a presence, but he could hear someone breathing. The fact that they remained in one place, making no attempt to get away, was even more alarming. Were they lying in wait with a weapon?

He pulled out his gun and slid the safety off. Stealthily he crept toward the next room and toward the breathing sound, hoping no one could hear the sound of his heart thumping. He had drawn his weapon on suspects before, but he had never had to shoot anyone. Would today be the first time?

His gun preceded him around the corner as he slowly followed, sweeping the room with a glance. He frowned in consternation. There was someone in this room; he could hear them. But he couldn’t see them. Were they hiding in a closet? He took a step and his foot connected with something solid, startling him so that he took his gun and drew a bead on at the body lying on the floor, preparing himself to shoot if the person sprang at him.

Then he felt the color drain from his face as his hand thumped listlessly to his side. For a second he remained staring in shock at the mass of red hair fanned out on the carpet, and then he put the safety on his gun, holstered it, and knelt beside the inert form of Lacy Steele.
 

Chapter 9

“Lacy.”

Someone was calling her name. There was a part of her that wanted to go toward the sound and wake up, but another, stronger part of her warned her to stay unconscious. The voice sounded equally angry and concerned.

“Lacy, wake up.”

Calloused hands passed over her forehead, pushing her hair out of her face and lightly scraping her smooth forehead with their roughness.

“Wake up so I can kill you,” the voice said, and all at once it came back to her. Jason was here. He had found her in Barbara Blake’s house, and he was angry. No doubt when she came to, he would arrest her.

She groaned, not only because her head was killing her, but also because she was afraid. She didn’t want to go to jail. How would it look for her family if she and her grandmother were both incarcerated in the same facility?

“
Can
you wake up?” Now his voice began to sound frightened. “Maybe I should call an ambulance.”

That did it. There was no way she was going to the hospital on top of everything else, namely because she had no health insurance. Her eyes popped open, and she stifled the urge to groan again. Jason was very close to her face and, as she had suspected, he looked very angry.