Ruthless (22 page)

“Shhh,” he urged. “You mustn’t cry.”

Her cries grew louder and he cried with her. “Please,” he begged, “don’t cry.”

She sobbed harder.

He sank to the floor, the demon inside him howling with need. He banged his head against the wall… fought the urges… but it was too late.

It was done.

Atkins Electric, Homewood, Friday, August 20, 7:45 a.m.

T
he lights aren’t on yet,” Lori powered her car window down and leaned her head out. “Nope. No lights.”

“Let’s drive down the back alley,” Jess suggested, “see if anyone’s parked back there. I’d like to get in the door before they open for business.” She had no desire to stand around waiting for the owner’s attention.

This was a long shot. A really, really long shot, but Jess couldn’t ignore the lead.

The storefront had a typical retail façade. Big plate-glass display windows with a double glass door in the middle. The parking out front was limited, since the store sat so close to the four-lane street between two busy intersections. Jess figured the employees parked in the back. The BPD cruiser following her around this morning had parked in front at the very end of the line of slots. Dan must have instructed the uniforms not to horn into her space. They were staying back as much as possible.

Little flashes from last night threaded through her mind, distracting her. Somehow she’d just been too weary to care what the cop outside her door had thought or what Lori would think when she picked Jess up this morning. It only mattered that she had needed to be in Dan’s arms. When he’d kissed her good-bye this morning she’d almost told him her period was late.

But Lori had arrived and that was that.

“There’s a truck,” Lori said, pulling Jess back to the present.

Silver Dodge Ram. Older model. Next to the rear entrance was a picnic table and one of those portable smoking stations.

“Someone’s in there,” Jess said. “Let’s go back around front and park. We’ll beat on the door until whoever’s in there lets us in.” There was a door on the back of the building, but it was steel with no window. Out front she could flash her badge. That usually worked if a person had nothing to hide.

Lori rolled into the parking slot and shifted into Park. “Who’s playing bad cop?” she asked as she opened her door.

Jess pushed her sunglasses up her nose. “You have to ask?” She emerged from the car and shoved the door shut with her hip. “Why don’t you go around and keep an eye on that back door, just in case.”

“On my way.” Lori headed around the hood of the Mustang. She jerked to a stop. “Wait! I saw someone behind the counter.” Lori bounded up to the front entrance.

Jess was right on her heels. At the door she peered through the glass, on which a sign boasted an opening time of eight a.m.

Jess rapped on the door. “Birmingham PD,” she called out. “Sir, we need to speak with you.”

An older man shuffled to the door, peering at Jess with a frown furrowing his face. “We open at eight,” he said through the glass.

Judging by his age—seventy, at least—this was likely the surviving brother who had been a part of this company during the Man in the Moon abductions. And apparently he had no desire to open his doors one minute before that posted time. She flashed her badge. “Sir, I need to speak with you
now
.”

He stared at the badge a long moment, then nodded. “Give me just a minute.”

Jess managed to keep her smile in place until he’d backed away and turned to do whatever it was he felt necessary before admitting her into his store.

“I guess he has to get the key,” she grumbled.

“I hope I’m not so ornery when I get that old.” Lori set her hands on her hips and leaned closer to the glass to see if he was coming back yet.

“I can’t say anything,” Jess admitted. “I think I was born that ornery.” She jerked her head toward the police cruiser. “Have one of our friends go on around and watch that back door just in case Mr. Atkins decides he doesn’t want to talk this morning.”

Lori hustled over to give the order. Jess heaved a big breath. Maybe at least this guy could offer something new. The more rocks they turned over the greater the likelihood they would uncover new leads.

A flash of black and a deep roar snagged Jess’s attention, had her bracing for trouble. A vehicle wheeled into the parking slot next to Lori’s Mustang.

Not an Infiniti.
Dodge Charger
.

She managed to relax enough to get a decent breath. “What in the world does he want?” she muttered as Lori joined her at the door once more.

Buddy Corlew climbed out of the beefy hot rod and gave them a nod. “Morning, ladies.”

“Corlew.” Jess folded her arms over her chest. If he was here trying to grovel for information he could forget it. Whatever grudge he had with Dan he could settle with Dan. She was trying to solve a case. Besides, she already had enough friends who wanted to play games.

Lori drew down her sunglasses and surveyed his car. “That Charger could use a good wash, Corlew.”

It was dusty as hell. Made Jess think of gravel roads like the one that led to the creek they’d visited yesterday. Had he been tracking her movements? Fishing for a lead? If he thought following her around would make her want to be on his team he could forget it. And she damned sure wasn’t allowing him to join hers.

She had no problem with his help on a case, but she wasn’t dealing with any hidden agendas, and Corlew had a huge agenda. He was not going to draw her into this grudge match he had going with Dan and the BPD.

He grinned at Lori. “I’ve got two sweet little college girls who take care of that for me every Sunday afternoon. Gives ’em a chance to work on their tans while picking up a few extra bucks.”

“If they’re doing anything more than washing your car,” Lori reminded him, “it’s probably illegal.”

He laughed. “Why don’t you come on over this Sunday and you can see for yourself. I can always use another set of good hands.”

Jess rolled her eyes. “What do you want, Corlew?”

“Your boy rang me up at seven this morning wanting to discuss my work on this case.”

Good for Harper. He and Cook were interviewing all the cops—the ones still alive, anyway—who’d worked the Man in the Moon investigation. “Why aren’t you talking to Harper instead of horning into my business?”

She glanced beyond the glass to see if the old man she presumed to be Mr. Atkins was anywhere in sight. What in the world was he doing? Maybe he was senile as well as ornery. Or maybe he’d had to take a pee and that was taking awhile.

“I owe you an apology, Jess.”

Now that got her attention. “I’m afraid to ask what for?”

“I wasn’t completely honest with you.” Corlew dragged his sunglasses from his face and shifted them around to the back of his neck.

She hated when guys did that. Especially guys over forty. “What’s new? I’ve known you better than twenty-five years. I’d be worried if you suddenly started telling me the truth.”

“I misfiled those reports on my interviews with the meter readers from Alabama Power. I was pissed at Black, so I thought I’d give him something to worry about if he ever had a reason to pull that cold case.”

Her instincts went on alert. What was he up to? “You understand that what you’re telling me is a criminal offense. I could arrest you right now.” Except she had other more important stuff to do.

He held his hands out as if he were ready to be cuffed. “Do what you think you have to. I want to make amends. Whatever it takes.”

What a load of BS. The nerve of this man! Getting even was one thing, but playing with innocent people’s lives was something else altogether. No wonder Dan fired him. “Is there anything I need to know in those reports from the meter reader interviews?”

He wagged his head, dropped his hands to his sides. “Like I said, Black was right about that. The only thing that was even a gnat’s ass off was the guy Bullock. Jerry Bullock. He seemed a little antsy when I talked to him. Like maybe he was worried about getting fired.”

Jess had picked up on Bullock’s anxiousness, too. Funny that he’d be nervous all these years later. “What about the one who got fired the next year, Roger Fowler?”

Corlew frowned in concentration before an oh-yeah expression dawned. “He was off in Cancun when the little Myers girl went missing. He and the woman he was having the affair with apparently sold off jewelry that had belonged to her husband’s mother to pay for the trip. When her husband found out, she blamed it on Fowler, said he stole the jewelry.”

“I appreciate the confession, Corlew, but I’m a little busy just now.” Jess hitched her head toward the Charger. “We’ll talk about this later. Have a nice day.” She peered through the glass to see if the old man was coming yet. No sign of him. Damn. “Detective Wells, why don’t—”

A blast rent the air.

“Gunshot!” Jess warned even as both Lori and Corlew shouted the same.

Jess hunkered down next to the Mustang and pulled her Glock from her bag. Lori dropped between the Mustang and the Charger, weapon in hand and calling into dispatch the code for shots fired.

Corlew, his own weapon drawn, had flattened against the brick building rather than hit the ground. The sound had come from inside. As far as Jess knew there was no one inside except the old man.

Corlew signaled that he was going around back. Jess gave him a nod.

The second uniform from the cruiser, crouched down low, moved up behind her.

Jess leaned to one side in an attempt to see through the doors. No visible movement. Doors still secured.

“Stay down, ma’am,” the officers said. “Back up is en route.”

Jess ignored him.

An SUV pulled into the parking slot next to the Charger. A man climbed out and looked from the police cruiser to Jess and Lori and then to the front entrance of the store.

“Get down, sir,” Jess ordered. “Someone inside fired a weapon.” She wasn’t waiting any longer. There hadn’t been any more gunshots. “I’m going in,” she said to Lori.

As if her words had just sunk in, the man from the SUV rushed for the front entrance. “My father’s in there!”

“Chief Harris!” the uniform shouted as she lunged forward, blocking the man’s path.

Jess couldn’t have this guy rushing inside until they determined exactly what had happened in there.

Lori shoved the new arrival against the wall. “Stay back, sir.”

“Mr. Atkins, do you have a key for this door?”

He nodded. Jess held out her hand. Worry in his eyes and hand shaking, he passed her the keys.

“Let me go in,” Lori offered.

Corlew would be at the back entrance by now. Wouldn’t
matter if it was locked. He had learned the art of breaking and entering as a freshman in high school. Just another reason he’d ended up in the military. He’d probably scared the fire out of the officer she’d sent back there to watch the rear entrance.

“You,” Jess said to the young officer next to her, “come with me.”

“Chief,” Lori argued.

Jess cut her off with a look.

She hugged the wall and eased toward the front entrance. She peered past the glass. Didn’t see a thing. Watching for movement inside, she shoved the key into the lock and gave it a twist. Corlew appeared just as she was shoving the door open. Once she and the uniform were inside, she closed and locked the door. Until they had assessed the situation no one else was getting in.

“What’ve we got?” she asked Corlew.

“I’ve got your other uniform maintaining the rear perimeter,” he explained. “Building’s clear. Old man, sixty-five, seventy maybe. Single gunshot to the head. I called it in, backup and a bus are on the way, but he’s a goner. Most of the back of his head is decorating the wall.”

“You shouldn’t be in here.” She tugged on a pair of gloves from her bag. “I want a list of anything you misfiled, misplaced, or whatever on my desk ASAP.”

He nodded. “I won’t let you down this time, Jess.”

“We’ll see about that. Now go,” she ordered.

Remarkably, he didn’t argue. He gave her a two-fingered salute and got out of her way.

She dragged on a pair of shoe covers and ensured the uniform with her, Officer Mitchell, did as well. Corlew
had said the old man was beyond help and that the building was clear, but she opted to check for herself. With Mitchell trailing her, she walked the scene. Sure enough, the old guy was done for.