Ultimate Fear (Book 2 Ultimate CORE) (CORE Series) (2 page)

Tears welled in her eyes as she ran her free hand along the blankets covering her still swollen stomach. Her face twisted with sorrow and anguish. Her breath caught on a sob. “I want to see him.”

He pressed his lips together and fought to be strong for her. “You can’t. I…I’m sorry, but I didn’t know how long you’d be in the coma and I already made arrangements for his burial.”

Still holding his hand, she rolled to her side and buried her face in the pillow. Her entire body shook as she released her grief, while her muffled cries pierced his heart and soul. Dimples had wanted the child so badly. He had, too. But he needed his wife more than the baby they’d had their heart set on, or the family Dimples had thought they were meant to have. He’d known her since they were kids. She’d been the one bright and steady thing in his life he could always count on, no matter what. He would sacrifice a family and accept their fate so long as he had his Dimples by his side.

As he stroked her back, she lifted her head. Her face had reddened and sweat caused strands of her hair to stick to her forehead and cheek. Her tear-soaked, red-rimmed eyes were glassy and filled with horror and shame. “How?” she asked, anger causing her voice to shake.

“You had another placental abruption,” he answered, and knew he didn’t need to offer any other explanation. The last two pregnancies had ended just before the twenty-week mark for the same reason.

“Impossible.” She fisted her hand and hit the pillow. “I’ve had so many ultrasounds and my doctor knew I was high risk. He would have—”

Wayne shook his head. “The doc thinks the placenta tore a day or two before the contractions started. Which was a week after your last ultrasound. Until you started bleeding, there was no way of knowing.”

“I want to see him.”

“Your doctor will be by later today to—”

“No. My baby.”

“Dimples, I told you—”

“Wayne, I
need
to see him.”

His hand trembled as he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the picture a nurse had taken of their stillborn child. He’d only looked at it once and had considered burning it, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it. That picture was all that remained of their son and Dimples deserved to see him.

He handed her the photo and fresh tears trickled down her cheek as she smiled. “Oh, Elton, you were so perfect and beautiful. Mama loves you so much. I wish we could have been together here on Earth, but Mama knows we’ll be together in heaven.” She lightly touched the picture, then looked at him. “We made a perfect baby.” She hugged the photograph to her chest. “I can’t wait to see the doctor and ask when we can try again.”

Alarmed by her abrupt change, his chest tightened with unease. “Honey, we
can’t
try again.”

Her smile fell. “Why not? Now that we know—”

“The doctor said the risk is too great.” He shook his head, his temper flaring. “You
died
. Maybe you’re willing to take a chance on your life, but I’m not.” He gently grasped her arm. The defeat in her eyes had his breath catching. “I can’t lose you. I love you so much, Dimples, and I know you want a baby, but I’d be nothing without you.”

She cried with him and brushed the tears from his face. “Wayne, I’m sorry. I never thought about what I’ve been putting you through. All of the miscarriages…I’ve been so selfish.”

“Never,” he said with vehemence. “I wanted us to have a family, too.”

“We still can.” She looked down at the photo of their dead son. “We can still have a family. If I promise to get my tubes tied so we don’t run the risk of getting pregnant again, will you promise me you’ll do everything you can to help us have a baby in our lives?”

He grew limp with overwhelming relief. Finally, after all of the years of trying for a child, after all of the risks and disappointments, Dimple was willing to go another route. Adoption, foster care…they had options and could still have a family. He nodded and gave her forehead a quick kiss. “I promise, honey. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you a baby.”

She gave him a watery smile and then looked back to the picture. “I want another boy, just like our Elton.”

“Sure, honey. We’ll get us a baby boy.”

“And I want to name him Elton.”

She met his gaze. The challenge and determination in her eyes caused them to glitter with excitement, and had wariness settling in the pit of his stomach. While he was glad Dimples was willing to give up on having a child of their own, he wasn’t looking to replace the son they’d lost. Dimples probably wasn’t, either. She’d just learned their son had died, and she’d just woken from a coma. After she had time to adjust and grieve properly, she’d realize adopting a boy and calling him by their dead son’s name wasn’t healthy.

“Wayne,” she began, her voice surprisingly strong and defensive, “you don’t have a problem with that, do you? After all that we’ve been through, after all me and my family has done for you, I can’t imagine that you’d lie and go back on your promises to me.”

She’d never held his past over his head and he’d never gone back on a promise. Hell, she’d never spoken to him in a condescending tone before, either.

He reminded himself of where they were at and what they’d just lost, and put her feelings and needs above his. “Never,” he said, taking her hand in his. “You know I’d do anything for you. And if you want to name the next baby Elton, that’s fine by me.”

Her eyes softened. “You’re a good husband. And you’re gonna make a great daddy.” With a wistful sigh, she looked to the picture again. “Ain’t that right, Elton. Your daddy is gonna make sure we’re together again real soon. And we’re gonna be a
real
family.” As she traced the tip of her finger along the photograph, she began humming a lullaby that should have sounded sweet, but for some reason it gave him an eerie chill.

Dimples wasn’t herself right now, was all. She’d be fine. Once she had herself a baby boy to love, she’d be fine.

He hoped.

THE FIRST TRIMESTER

For every evil under the sun,

There is a remedy, or there is none.

If there be one, try and find it;

If there be none, never mind it.

—Mother Goose

Chapter 1

Present day…

“I HAVE NO words,” the young, uniformed patrol officer said, his face ashen, his eyes filled with disgust.

Detective Jessica Donavan looked over the man’s shoulder toward where a large headstone stood at the top of a gently sloping hill. “You were the first on the scene, try and find them.” She glanced to his badge. “Officer Kronowski.”

“Right. I…ah.” Kronowski cleared his throat and wiped the sweat from his brow. “There’re two victims. Male and female. Looks like they’ve been there overnight.”

Well, wasn’t that great. Between the heat and humidity plaguing Chicago, she could only imagine what they were going to find at the top of that hill. Too bad it was Thursday and not Saturday. Someone else could have taken this case, and she could be in her air-conditioned apartment, maybe even still in bed.

“And?” her partner, Alex Byrnes, asked and looked up toward the cawing crows circling in the sky.

“Call came in from one of the cemetery’s groundskeepers at six forty-five this morning. My partner and I got here a few minutes later, and after we found the victims I called dispatch. There’s a gun next to the male victim. I’m no forensics guy, but it looks like maybe a murder-suicide.”

“Got any IDs?” Jessica asked, following the circling crows as well and counting four of them.

Kronowski’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “No. But we’re assuming they’re the kid’s parents.”

She dropped her gaze from the crows to the headstone below them. “Kid?”

“Yeah, the grave is Noah Palmer’s. The marker says he was almost seven when he died.”

Alex glanced at her. With his mirrored, aviator Ray-Ban sunglasses, she couldn’t see his eyes, but his clenched jaw indicated his disgust. Alex was married to her cousin, Shannon. They had three sons and their youngest was going to be eight at the end of the next month. Whenever she and Alex had to work a case involving kids, he had a hard time separating the job from his boys at home. Unfortunately, she could relate. Although at least this time around, thankfully, the kid wasn’t one of the victims.

Car doors slammed behind them. Alex looked over her head. “Megan and Audra are here. Let’s head up the hill and start processing the scene.”

Jessica loved working with the two Forensics Investigators. The women were sisters and although she could do without some of their—at times—caustic banter, they were meticulous and quick. Today was expected to hit close to ninety degrees. She had no desire to be at the cemetery staring at roasting dead bodies any longer than necessary.

Kronowski stepped in front of them. “Do you need me? My partner is up there, so he can answer your questions, too.”

Rookie
. Then again, she couldn’t blame Kronowski. She’d been working for the Chicago PD for twelve years and had been a homicide detective for the past five. No matter how much she tried to harden herself, seeing the end results of violent crimes was never easy. She looked to her left and caught sight of a man leaning against a weed whacker beneath a large tree. “Is he the groundskeeper who reported the bodies?”

Kronowski nodded. “Yeah. I told him to hang around until you guys got here.”

As she moved past the patrol officer, she gave his shoulder a pat. “Good. Why don’t you go stand in the shade with him and make sure he stays put for us?” she suggested, giving Kronowski a break, and followed Alex up the hill.

The thick green grass and the smatterings of mature trees and stone benches made Holy Cross appear more like a park than a cemetery. Arrays of beautiful vibrant flowers, large memorial bouquets and wreaths adorning the numerous graves indicated this place wasn’t for family picnics and Frisbee matches, though, but for resting in peace.

As for murder?

The crows continued to circle and caw and she counted six now. Leaves from the nearby trees rustled with the hot light breeze that brought with it the rancid odor of death. She slowed her pace when the bodies came into view and covered her nose and mouth with her forearm. Alex stood at least twenty feet from the gravesite. The other patrol officer was on the opposite side and approached them using a handkerchief to combat the smell.

After the patrol officer introduced himself and relayed the same information as his partner, he said, “I gotta take a break from this shit.” He looked over his shoulder toward the crime scene. “Unless you need me to stick around.”

“You’re good,” Alex said, as Megan and Audra made their way up the hill wearing white protective suits.

“Morning,” Audra greeted them, and winced when the breeze gave them another acrid dose of decomposition. “What do we have?”

“We’re about to find out,” Jessica responded, and nodded to Megan’s equipment box. “Got any extra masks in there, or are you going to make me have to walk back to my car?”

“And miss out on the fun?” Megan pulled a couple of masks from the box, along with two pairs of booties to cover their shoes, and handed them to her and Alex. “Where’s the tape?”

For whatever reason, Megan loved her crime scene tape. “Let’s figure out the perimeter first and then I’ll have the patrol officers take care of it,” Jessica said, then turned to Alex. “Ready?”

With a nod, he placed the mask over his nose and mouth. After Jess did the same, they walked closer to the grave. With each step, with each cry from the orbiting crows, her stomach soured with dread, and she regretted that last cup of coffee. The mask helped with the smell, but not as much as she would have liked, and the view…

Stopping only a few feet from the grave, she touched Alex’s arm. “I think Kronowski’s right.”

“Murder-suicide? Yeah, looks like it.”

Careful of where she stepped, she edged around the grave, halting a few feet from the headstone, which was a sculpted weeping angel holding a heart-shaped granite slab. She craned her neck and caught a glimpse of a child’s smiling face etched into the granite. Glancing to the base of the angel, she cringed and fought the bile rising at the back of her throat.

“Assuming the victims are the parents, it looks like the husband shot the wife first,” Alex said from the opposite side of the angel.

“She was on her knees.” Jessica squatted down. “Her rear is still resting on her heels. First guess, the husband came up from behind her and shot her in the head. Blood spatter and bits of her brain are near the angel’s knee and at the point of the heart slab.”

“The gun is still in the husband’s hand,” Alex said, also crouching.

From her angle she couldn’t see the gun, but based on the entry wound on the man’s head, which rested on its side against the woman’s back, it was clearly a suicide. What a waste. She’d never understood the whole murder-suicide thing. If someone wanted to take their life, have at it. But to take another person’s in the process?

Disgusted, she stood and looked to the heart-shaped slab again. The boy had been adorable in life. Cute smile, laughing eyes and had died— “Oh, my God.” She glanced down at the dead couple. “The boy died a month ago.”