The Green-Eyed Doll (32 page)

Matt stripped off his badge, watch, and gun then emptied his pockets on the kitchen table. He made a beeline to the bathroom and shed his grimy uniform, which he’d sweat through several times today. Once in the shower, he put both hands against the wall while hot water sluiced across the back of his head rinsing some of the grit and stench of the day off.

Once again, the killer had left no visible clues. Matt’s hopes rested on Jessie’s fingernails. He prayed the ME might find skin under them. The forensic people had bagged her hands, and the ME would scrape for DNA samples during autopsy. Obtaining DNA results took months and then only produced a suspect if the bastard was in the system.

He laughed when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. The junkie’s living around the shipyards in Houston weren’t any grosser. He rubbed his hand down his cheek. This was way past stubble, and the circles under his eyes matched the color of the hair on his face. When he finished shaving, he moved quietly down the hall into the bedroom. At last, his body hit the cool sheets, and Matt breathed out a sigh when his head sunk into the pillow. Catherine turned toward him, rested her hand over his heart, and rubbed a small circle. Her touch steadied his world, calmed his ragged nerves, and soothed the pain in his temples. The rumbling volcano of need woke, and he reached for her. Wordlessly, she slid on top and took him inside.

****

Wednesday, September 6th, 6:30 a.m.

Catherine pulled on her robe and peeked out the window to her front porch. Ash with his cold eyes and gritted teeth could only mean bad news. Her heart physically hurt at the thought of waking Matt. The pounding on the front door hadn’t fazed him. She’d pulled the door open, blocking entrance with her body.

“Is he up?” Ash asked, stepping closer.

Matt looked rough last night, but not compared to Ash today. His disheveled hair and sunburn made him appear gaunt and harsh. A twinge of sympathy hit her. It wasn’t enough to drag Matt out of bed. He’d promised to protect the public—well, who protected him? She would if necessary.

“Shh,” Catherine whispered. “No. He’s not. I didn’t disturb him.” She balled her hands into fists and glared at him. “He’s exhausted. Can’t you give him a few hours to himself?”

Ash’s gaze narrowed, impatience flitted across his face. He studied her for a minute and then closed his eyes. When he looked at her again, he appeared to be better composed. In fact, he sort of smiled. He might as well, because he hadn’t frightened her one bit. She was ready to fight to get Matt some rest.

“I’m glad you want to take care of him. Let me assure you, he wants to hear the news. Now go disturb his beauty sleep.” He cocked his head at an angle, waiting.

Damn she hated to yield. Ash had something important to tell Matt, and she had no right to refuse. She stepped back, allowing Ash inside. He surprised her by walking past her into her kitchen, where he began opening cabinet doors.

“Make yourself at home,” she whispered.

“Catherine. Somebody died last night—”

“I’m aware Jessie’s body was found.”

For the second time, he narrowed his gaze and glared at her. He opened his mouth then snapped it shut. What was he not saying?

“Say it,” she challenged him.

“JC was found dead this morning.”

His razor sharp words stabbed through her chest walls and sucked the oxygen from her lungs. Her mind refused to register his words. He couldn’t possibly be right. JC dead? She walked to the cabinet, pulled out the coffee canister, and handed it to him. Moving on autopilot, she went to wake Matt.

She knelt by the bed and kissed his closed eyelids. Her heart squeezed and tears found their way to the surface. Unchecked they ran down her cheeks. “Matt. Wake up.” Her hands trembled when she shook his shoulder and called his name again. “Matt.”

“Hey.” His eyes snapped open. “What’s wrong?”

“Ash is waiting for you in the kitchen.” She couldn’t force additional words from her mouth, not without breaking down. How could JC be gone?

Matt was up and on the side of the bed so fast she lost balance, and he grabbed her arms to steady her. Fully awake, he pulled her chin up higher so he could see her face.

“Tears?” He brushed her wet cheeks with his thumbs while icy blue eyes searched hers. “Ash made you cry?”

“Something’s happened. I’ll let him tell you.” She pulled away from him, held her emotions in check, and returned to the kitchen while Matt dressed. Ash had started the coffee pot and sat waiting.

“I’m sorry if I leaned on you too hard. Matt would expect me to come get him.”

Ash’s tone hit her raw nerves like an acid wash. “If you’d leaned too hard, you’d know it. Matt’s dressing.”

“I know this death is a big shock.”

“Who’s dead?” Matt filled the doorway. Hair disheveled and half dressed, his presence commanded attention.

“JC Harper was found dead a couple of hours ago.” Ash’s tone was blunt and to the point. Flat without emotion.

Matt’s gaze shifted to her. His hand caressed her shoulder. “You want us to take this outside?”

“No. I’d like to listen.”

“I don’t see why not.” Matt pulled a chair out for her and then turned his attention to Ash. “What do you know so far?”

“I haven’t seen for myself. I’m told it’s an apparent suicide. Rey caught the call, said to tell you the body was at the drop site where Julia was found.”

Matt scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Let’s get out there.”

“There’s more.” Ash shifted his gaze directly at her then back to Matt. “According to Jake, JC may have been our killer.”

Catherine blinked back the tears. “I don’t believe it. JC wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“You never completely know anybody. We’re all capable of murder...given the right circumstances.” Ash stood and started opening cabinet doors again.

“No,” she argued. “He was too sincere when we talked.”

“You talked about the killings?” Matt asked.

“I told you. The day the package was left at the funeral home. JC and I talked when I was in town. He was sick to think you could possibly believe he would kill anybody.”

“He had items of women’s clothing in his pickup.” Ash poured three cups of coffee and passed one to her and Matt.

“I’ll meet you at the office.” Matt blew on his steaming coffee, turned, and left Ash with Catherine.

“Did he tell me to get lost?” Ash sat his untouched cup down.

“Sounded like it.” She made an effort to smile.

She closed the door behind Ash. Numbness seeped through her limbs. Putting one foot in front of the other, she joined Matt in her bedroom. He’d moved at record speed and was fully dressed. Catherine went to her closet and stood staring. He pulled her to his chest and tried to soothe her. She couldn’t relax because given the opportunity, she’d fall apart. To prevent that from happening she retreated inward. She was an old hand at handling grief and pain on her own.

“Will you be all right?” His eyes searched across her face, no doubt looking for reassurance.

“No problem. Go. I’ve got to get to work myself.” She mindlessly grabbed a pair of slacks and blouse.

He kissed her on the tip of her nose, and then he was gone. She sagged down on the bed and dropped her head in her hands. With so much going on in his life, there was never a good time to tell him about her past.

She pulled herself together, dressed for work, and went out to Emma’s old Lincoln. With a twist of the key, the car hummed like it was brand new. When the air conditioning instantly cooled the inside air, Catherine drove away not missing her old Ford one bit.

By the time she parked in the rear of the funeral home, she’d made progress at sorting out the news. That was until a name flashed through her mind. Marty. Had anyone called Marty?

Chapter Twenty-Five

Wednesday, September 6th, 8:30 a.m.

“I understand the body is male. You have an ID?” Steve Evers stood between Matt and the crime scene. “Any comments?”

“One. Move.” Matt’s glare sent the County Recorder reporter to the side of the road.

“And stay behind the yellow tape unless you want to write your column from jail,” Ash added. He walked off and started his solitary inspection.

Matt went directly to where Dave Foster and Hector Ruiz stood over JC’s body. Matt hated to be late, but Jake and Rey had things under control. The perimeter had been secured, and extra deputies kept a watchful eye on the gathering crowd.

“Foster. Ruiz.” Matt spoke to the forensic experts. “I appreciate you getting here so fast.”

“Sheriff,” Ruiz acknowledged Matt’s arrival. “Dr. Reinhardt is in route. Dave called him after we found evidence that might connect the dead guy to the recent homicides. He’s staying on top of the doll murders.”

“He’s on top of something,” Ash commented when he passed behind the group.

Matt caught Ash’s reference to the ME leaking information to Sylvia Horning. He and Ash exchanged knowing glances, but Matt didn’t speak. He didn’t care how Sylvia wormed the information out of Reinhardt. Forgiving the breach of trust wasn’t on the horizon.

Matt squatted and studied the body. A chill stirred the hair on his arms in spite of the sweat cascading down his back. A bullet had entered JC’s right temple and exited the left side taking brain matter and bone with it. Matt pulled in a lungful of air when a question popped into his mind. Was there any significance that JC’s hazel eyes were damn close to being green?

“No note? Confession?” Matt asked.

“Nada. It’s never that easy.” Ruiz looked up from bagging JC’s hands.

“What’d you find tying him to the murdered women?”

“He’s got a silk blouse in his hand,” Foster supplied the answer.

“So? It’s too early to make such a broad statement.” Matt needed a lot more proof.

Rey moved to Matt’s side. “There’s another blouse and a pair of women’s panties in the glove compartment. All different sizes.”

“Shit.” Ash looked up from taking notes. “I liked the sonofabitch.”

“I’ve known him for years. Easy going, everybody’s friend. He’d give you the shirt off his back.” Jake spoke for the first time. Disappointment mingled with anger in his eyes. He blew out a sigh. “I’d have trusted him with my sister.”

Matt didn’t know what to say. Trust was a fragile thing to him. Jake would have to work past his disillusionment. “You about finished here?” he asked Ash. “I want to take a look inside JC’s house.”

“Let’s ride.” Ash strode to Matt’s cruiser without saying goodbye to anyone.

“Jake, when you and Rey wrap things up here, let Ruiz and Foster follow you to JC’s. We’ll meet you there.” Matt wanted a look around before anyone else. Something nagged at him. Like Ruiz had said, life wasn’t this easy. A couple of articles of clothing didn’t sew this case up for Matt.

The television news van and the ME’s car arrived at the same time Matt started the cruiser. The sixty-something-year-old Reinhardt exited his vehicle and hurried toward the young blonde reporter. Not much about JC’s death would be kept from the press.

“What’s eating you?” Ash asked after they got out on the highway. He pulled the sun visor down, opened the mirror, poking at his sunburned skin with his finger.

“I told you to wear a hat.”

“So you did. What’s eating you?” Ash repeated the question.

“I wasn’t ignoring you. I don’t have an answer to give you.”

“Talk it out. Like we used to. No wisecracks if I get melancholy about days gone by.”

“You have a permanent badge here with me whenever you want one.” Matt reminded him.

“I was thinking more along the lines of you returning to civilization. After you get married, Catherine might be happier in the big city.”

“When did we quit discussing the case and start talking about my personal life?”

“You started it by mothering me over my sunburn.”

Matt would miss the camaraderie if the case was over and Ash went back to Houston. Crest County was home for Matt, and he hadn’t given any thought as to how Catherine felt about the area. Maybe he should. But marriage? That was a whole other ball game.

Matt kicked off the brainstorming with a question. “Let’s say, for the sake of argument, JC killed all three women. He was careful not to leave one shred of evidence. Nothing. He was super cautious. Then he up and kills himself. Why?”

“I think I’m supposed to say he felt guilty. I’m still having trouble seeing JC violent enough to kill anybody.”

“And wasn’t it considerate of him to off himself in the same place he left the first body. A location every person in the county read about. If that weren’t enough, he provided us lots of clues. A couple of blouses and a pair of panties happened to be with him.”

“Sounds too convenient.”

“We’d have been blind fools not to put two and two together.” Matt parked in front of JC’s house. The trellis was bare. Obviously, the scraggly roses Matt noticed a month ago had perished in the dry heat. Curious, because he remembered JC watering.

Matt handed Ash a pair of gloves, and both men put them on when they exited the car. Ash walked the length of the porch and disappeared around back.

Matt tried the door and found it locked as expected. JC’s house was like Catherine’s, old and easy to get into. A good shoulder push would do it.

He froze. Somebody was inside the house. He stepped back, unsnapped his holster, his hand automatically resting on his Glock. A figure appeared, and the door opened.

“Shit, Ash. I could’ve shot you.” Matt rubbed his hand across his face.

“Then you’d have to take care of me. You know...payback.”

Matt did know. Ash was joking, but Matt would never forget the physical therapy sessions with Ash egging him on, challenging him to do more. “Maybe I will shoot you next time. I wouldn’t mind getting to call you sissy, wimp, and your favorite...pussy boy.”

Ash grimaced. “Did I call you a wimp? I’m sorry, man.”

The two men worked in unison. Sparsely furnished, the living room hadn’t changed since Matt’s last visit. Neither noticed anything of interest. Ash took off toward the bedrooms, and Matt went to the kitchen. He was staring at beer, milk and something that might be green bologna when Ash exploded with a stream of cuss words.