You Belong to Me (11 page)

‘Here’s one of the shoulder blade mole,’ she said, sorting the photos. ‘And one of the scar from the burn. Neither of these pictures shows any of the assault injuries.’ She looked up, her expression grim. ‘And believe me, that wasn’t easy to do.’

Stevie took the two photos. ‘Thanks, Lucy. We’ll start with the old and new Mrs Bennetts to find out if Russell had any of these marks before we go to the parents.’

‘I have the first wife’s address,’ Trask offered.

JD’s brows went up. ‘You two keep in touch?’

‘More like a one-way thing. She sent flowers after I broke his nose and I get a Christmas card every year.’ Trask found the address in her phone and wrote it down. ‘She kept the house and the kids. She’s kept in touch with Russ’s folks so the kids can have a relationship with their grandparents. The Bennetts like her.’ She handed the paper to JD, careful not to touch him. ‘They’re good people and this is going to tear them up. Please don’t forget to ask your captain if I can be there when you notify them.’

JD held her gaze and for a moment saw the flicker of awareness he’d seen before. It was quickly extinguished, her eyes going cool. But he’d seen it.

‘I won’t forget,’ he said quietly. ‘I promise. But you have to promise something too.’

He reached across the table, brushing her fingers briefly as he took the autopsy folder she still held, not missing the subtle twitch of her hand or the quick intake of her breath at the contact. Within the folder he found the photo of the ‘I’ burned into the victim’s back and turned it so she could see it.

‘This is a threat, Lucy,’ he said softly. ‘You were set up to find this man’s body, whoever he is. Someone went to a lot of trouble to make that happen. You didn’t do the murder, but you’re connected. Until we find out how, you stick with people you know.’

Her cool control snapped, emotion churning in her eyes. He saw the awareness return, but also saw fear and anger. That was good. She needed to be afraid.
Just not of me
. Still, he got the feeling she
was
afraid of him and he didn’t know why.

‘I get it,’ she said roughly. ‘No dark alleys.’

‘Or running before dawn,’ he added. ‘Promise me, Dr Trask.’

She nodded once, her eyes not leaving his. ‘I promise.’

He handed her one of his cards. ‘Both Stevie’s and my cell numbers are on the back. Call us if you need us.’

She took the card gingerly, again avoiding his fingers. ‘I will. Thank you.’

‘Then we’ll get to work,’ Stevie said. ‘We’ll be in touch.’

Lucy watched them leave, her heart pounding wildly. Stevie had patted her shoulder comfortingly as she’d pushed away from the table, but Fitzpatrick hadn’t touched her again. He hadn’t needed to. Her hand still tingled from that brief brush of their fingers. Her cheeks still burned from that last long look he’d leveled before he’d closed the conference room door on his way out.

Fitzpatrick was very interested. Her ‘boring’ warning had had the opposite effect, only intensifying his not-so-subtle study of her face as he’d sat across the table.
I don’t want him to be interested
.

But of course she did.
Goddamn me
. She gritted her teeth.
Won’t you ever learn?

‘That went better than I thought it would,’ Craig said.

She realized he’d been watching her. ‘Yes, it did,’ she murmured. ‘I have an alibi.’

‘I could see they didn’t think you had anything to do with it from the moment they walked in,’ Craig said. ‘Especially Fitzpatrick. I think he likes you,’ he added slyly.

She wanted to wince. ‘It doesn’t matter if he likes me nor not.’

You, Lucy Trask, are a big liar
. Having a man like JD Fitzpatrick interested mattered a great deal. He was sexy, kind, and had a magnetism that drew her gaze despite her best intentions. Ruby had called him a narcotic, which was probably the most accurate description.

He’d be amazing in bed. The thought sent a new shiver across her skin.
Oh God
.

Which was precisely why she needed to keep her distance. Even if every nerve in her body was telling her to run closer.
Maybe just once
. What could it hurt?

Everything
. Unbidden, the squeal of tires and the sickening crunch of metal filled her memory. Her mind went quiet, until all she could hear was the baby’s wail that still invaded her worst nightmares. What could it hurt, indeed?
Everything
.

Craig frowned, still watching her. ‘Whatever you say,’ he said skeptically.

‘So, what about me? Am I on leave?’

‘Yes. Until you’re officially cleared. Luckily you were just back and hadn’t had time to start any other cases.’

‘But we’re so behind.’

‘That’s mine to worry about. I’ll figure something.’ He rose, tugging his suit coat into place. ‘Go home for now. And remember what they said about being alone in dark places. I don’t want anyone finding you slumped over a chess table.’

Lucy followed him from the conference room, the memory of this morning’s chess table pushing the baby’s cry from her mind. She thought about the body back in the cold room. The man had no face, no fingers, no tongue.
And no heart
.

It was Russ. Every instinct she possessed told her it was.

Fitzpatrick was right.
I am involved, somehow
. But how? And why?
Why me?

Monday, May 3, 1.00 P.M.

Lucy headed to the parking garage, looking over her shoulder every few feet. She was suddenly conscious of how empty the garage was, even in the daytime. And she was suddenly conscious of how isolated she was. Her back went rigid and she picked up her pace, her key clutched in one hand.

She passed a parked car with a man in the driver’s seat.
Watching me
. He got out and, ignoring her, pulled an armful of books from his trunk.
Okay, not watching me
.

‘Lucy.’

She heard the voice a split second before hitting a hard body full on. Stifling what would have been a shriek, she looked up. And up some more.

‘Thorne,’ she breathed in relief. ‘You scared me.’

He’d gripped her shoulders to steady them. Thomas Thorne was a huge man, at least six six. Even Fitzpatrick would have to look up at him. Right now Thorne’s handsome face was scowling. ‘You didn’t pick up your phone.’

She thought of the call she’d left unanswered. ‘I was talking to the detectives.’

His scowl deepened. ‘Without me?’ he growled. He had a deep, gravelly voice that carried through a packed courtroom without a microphone.

If she hadn’t known him so well, she might have been unnerved. ‘I had an alibi.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘Famous last words. Are you that stupid?’

Annoyed, she took a step closer, lifting her chin. ‘No. Any other questions?’

Did the little girl live?
She heard Fitzpatrick’s quiet voice in her mind. That’s what he’d asked after she’d told them she’d cut off a human leg with a Sawzall and once again she thought of the first time she’d seen him, standing across her autopsy suite. His feet had been spread solidly, arms crossed over his chest, his face stoically stern. She especially remembered the tears in his eyes. They’d startled her that day.

The victim had been a three year old girl. He’d cared, just like he’d cared today.

JD Fitzpatrick was a very dangerous man indeed.

‘What?’ Thorne asked, giving her a little shake. ‘You just went somewhere.’

Lucy refocused on his face. ‘I’m fine. I’ve had an eventful day.’ She told him what had happened, leaving out the missing body parts that the police wanted kept under wraps.

‘Shit,’ he murmured, but even a murmur from Thorne vibrated like a shout.

‘Indeed,’ Lucy said. ‘Mazzetti and Fitzpatrick are verifying my alibi. I had a class full of students every day last week and had room service delivered almost every day. There was no way that I could have made it from Baltimore to LA and back again to kill Russ Bennett, or whoever that victim really is.’

‘They’ll come to talk to Gwyn,’ he said and she sighed.

‘I didn’t tell her. I thought it would be worse for her in the long term if I did. But I did tell them she was with her mom the day Bennett disappeared.’

Thorne winced. ‘She’s gonna be pissed that you kept this from her.’

Lucy lifted on her toes so that she could pat his cheek. ‘You’ll sweeten her back up,’ she said, hoping it was true. ‘Just give her a new whip. She’s worn the old one out.’

‘I’ll put it on your tab,’ he said dryly, but he’d stopped scowling. ‘I’ve got to run. Let me see you to your car. Let’s go.’ He started walking and she had to nearly skip to keep up with his long stride. ‘If the cops want to talk to you again, you call me,’ he ordered. ‘And next time, do not say a word until I am physically at your side.’

She nodded dutifully. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘I’ve met JD Fitzpatrick,’ he added crossly. ‘I didn’t like him.’

Her brows lifted, surprised. ‘Why not?’

Thorne’s mouth curved ruefully. ‘He’s a straight cop. I grilled him for a long time on the stand, but he never slipped once. Told the goddamn truth.’

Lucy frowned, unsurprised to hear that Fitzpatrick had integrity, but disliking the thought of him being grilled. She and Thorne argued about his career many an evening. Lucy’s feelings were mixed. As were Thorne’s. ‘Did you get your client off?’

‘No. He was guilty.’ Thorne shrugged. ‘But he got a fair trial so I slept that night.’ He stopped when they got to her old Chevy. ‘Call me when you get home.’

‘Okay.’

He waited until she’d unlocked her car door. ‘See you tonight at the club?’

‘I’ll try,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry I worried you, Thorne. Thanks for coming out.’

‘It’s all right, I was out anyway.’ He backed away, doing the phone sign. ‘Call me.’

Lucy knew that a lot of women would love to be getting the phone sign from Thomas Thorne, and at one time she might have been one of them. Not any more. Now she went for nice, sensible men who weren’t trouble.

Fitzpatrick’s face popped into her mind and she sighed.
Not like him
. He was trou—

Her thoughts scattered, her hand freezing on the car door. There was a box. On her floorboard. Wrapped in foil, it glittered. And around it was tied a big red bow.

The car had been locked and no one else had a key.

She snatched her hand from the door. ‘Thorne?’ she called, her voice trembling.

He was back in seconds, looking over her shoulder. ‘What’s that?’

‘I don’t know. I didn’t leave it there.’ She looked back at him. ‘Did you?’

His expression was grim. ‘No. Don’t touch it.’

‘I’m not stupid, Thorne.’ She pulled her cell phone from her purse, commanding her hand to be steady as she searched for the card Fitzpatrick had given her.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ he asked, his own phone in his hand.

‘Calling Fitzpatrick.’ Heart pounding, she crouched down to better see the box. It was about the size of a softball. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I was going to call 911. Back up, Luce. You don’t know what’s in that box. It could be a bomb, for God’s sake.’

Lucy aimed her keychain penlight at the box, illuminating the foil design and her pounding heart dropped to her gut.
No, not a bomb
. Not a conventional one anyway.

‘I don’t think so,’ she whispered.

Thorne crouched behind her. ‘Looks like somebody had wrapping paper left over from Valentine’s Day.’ He paused, studying her. ‘You know what’s inside, don’t you?’

She dialed Fitzpatrick’s number. ‘I have a good idea.’

‘So . . .’ Thorne made an exasperated noise. ‘What’s inside?’

‘Same thing that’s on the outside,’ she said, then held up her hand for quiet when Fitzpatrick answered, his voice low and urgent. ‘Detective, it’s Lucy Trask.’

‘What’s happened?’ Fitzpatrick demanded. ‘Are you all right?’

Slowly she rose, careful to touch nothing. ‘I’m fine, but you need to come back. He’s left a gift in my car. The box is wrapped in paper with purple, pink and red hearts.’

She heard him draw a breath. ‘Shit. Where are you?’

‘In the parking garage across from the morgue, second floor, east entrance.’

‘Alone?’

She should have found the slightly accusatory note in his voice offensive. Instead she felt warmed. ‘No. Thomas Thorne is here with me. We haven’t touched anything.’

‘Good. I’ll send Drew and the CSU team right away. Stevie and I will be there as soon as we can. Will Thorne stay with you until the uniforms get there?’

She found herself wishing Fitzpatrick would turn around and come straight back, but knew Drew would have to do his thing before the detectives could do theirs. She looked up at Thorne. ‘Can you stay a few minutes? Just until the cops get here?’

Thorne glared. ‘Try to make me leave,’ he growled.

‘He’ll stay,’ she said to Fitzpatrick. ‘What should I do when they get here?’

‘Stay put. We’ll be there soon.’

Monday, May 3, 1.10 P.M.

JD snapped his phone shut and returned his eyes to the road. His hands gripped the wheel, itching to turn them around and immediately return to the garage. And to Lucy Trask. But they were almost at Brandi Bennett’s apartment. Squad cars could get to Lucy a lot faster.

‘Dammit,’ he muttered, reaching for the radio.

‘What happened?’ Stevie asked.

‘The prick left a gift-wrapped box in her car.’ He called Dispatch, requesting that squad cars, CSU, and a bomb detail be sent to the parking garage.

‘How do we know it’s from the prick?’ Stevie asked when he’d finished.

‘The wrapping paper is covered with hearts.’

‘Oh.’ Stevie grimaced. ‘That’s really nasty.’

‘Really nasty? He cut the vic’s heart out. I think he was already really nasty.’

‘But he kept the heart. This is personal against the doc. How did Lucy sound?’

‘Like she’s keeping it together.’
Barely
, he added to himself as he thought about the little tremble in her voice as she’d asked him to come back.
She’ll be fine. She’s trained to keep a level head
. ‘At least she’s not alone. She was with Thorne.’