Dirty Rotten Scoundrel (2 page)

“
My turn,” I said, pushing against him so he rolled onto his back and straddling him. The angle was different—sharper—deeper—and I sucked in a breath as he hit a spot that made my eyes cross.

“Jesus, Jack.”

A laugh rumbled in his chest and was choked off when I tightened around him. “God, I love it when you do that.”

I placed my hands on his chest and did it again. “I know. I try to stay in shape. Exercise is important.”

“Mmm, I definitely know which of your muscles is my favorite.” Perspiration dotted his brow, and I could tell he was close but trying to hold off. There was nothing I liked more than watching him lose control. It so rarely happened. And I loved knowing I was the one who could make him. He flexed inside me and I lost concentration for a moment. But this time wasn’t about me. It was about Jack and the power we wielded over each other.

“Speaking of muscles,” I s
aid. And then I began to ride, fast and furious as his fingers bit into my hips. My eyes never left his and I watched as the dark brown bled to black the closer he came to fulfillment. And then I was just as lost as he was as we went over the edge together.

I collapsed onto his chest
and snuggled against him as his arms came around me. My eyes drifted shut and contentment washed through me. I felt the weight of the covers as he pulled them over us and he rolled so we lay on our sides, our bodies still joined. His breath fluttered across my ear.

“Just think of all the years we wasted not doing this.”

I grunted and wasn’t sure I was capable of speech. My leg was thrown over his hip and I was still having aftershocks of what had to be one of the most incredible orgasms I’d ever experienced.

“Maybe so,” I finally managed. “But I can’t say I
’m disappointed you had all that practice in the meantime.” His laughter rumbled beneath my ear and I smiled.

“Sleep, love. I’ll hold on to you.”

That was all it took for me to drift off.

***

I hadn’t been asleep long when my phone rang. My head jerked up and hit Jack’s chin, and he swore as we tried to untangle ourselves from the covers. I rubbed the top of my head and looked at the clock as I crawled across to the nightstand.

“Shit, it’s barely five.” A call coming in at that time could only mean one thing—someone had died.

“Dr. Graves,” I answered.

“This is dispatch.” I recognized
Barbara Blanton’s nasal voice without her having to tell me who she was. Barbara had been the dispatch operator for King George County since before I was born. “We’ve got a body over in Caledon State Park near Jones Pond. Police are already on the scene. You’re up to bat, Doc Graves.” She hung up the phone and I was already scrambling out of bed.

I had to figure there weren’t a lot of dispatch operators like Barbara—at least I hoped not. I knew as soon as she hung up she’d dial her sister to let her know what had happened. It was impossible to keep secrets in a community of this size. By dinner, everyone would know just as much as the police did.

“She said the police were already on site,” I told Jack as I ran into the bathroom and turned on the shower. “Why didn’t you get a call?”

“Colburn is on call tonight.” Jack followed me into the bathroom and got towels out of the cabinet. I never remembered to get a towel until I was out of the shower
and dripping all over the floor. “Besides, I already put in for that vacation time I was telling you about.”

I stopped with one foot in the big, walk-in shower and
narrowed my eyes at Jack. “Pretty damned cocky of you to assume I’d say yes.” His gaze was steady, but I could see the humor lurking in his eyes and around the corners of his mouth.

“I was
SWAT for a lot of years, sweetheart. Cocky is my middle name.” He got into the shower behind me and closed the glass door, adjusting the showerhead for his height while I stood there with my mouth open.

Jack was
already dressed by the time I came out of the bathroom. I had a towel wrapped around me and my hair dripped onto my shoulders.

“I’ll make coffee,
” he said, looking up, his eyes going heavy lidded with arousal as he took in the sight of me. “Maybe we should just stop by the courthouse this afternoon and get the marriage license. Unless you want a big wedding.”

My back stiffened and that sense of panic started to creep up my skin, rendering me cold. And angry. “Don’t push it, Jack.
I said I’d marry you, but I’m not going to be rushed into anything. Weddings take time to plan.”

“And long engagements would give you plenty of time to think of all the reasons you’re
too afraid to make a commitment and to live again.”

I jerked back as if I’d been slapped and I felt the blood drain from my face.

“I’ll meet you downstairs.”

He left the room and I tried to focus on the present—on the body that waited for me—but there were too many other thoughts jumbled in my mind. My dad, the boxes he wanted so badly,
the dead body I’d found in the Poconos, marrying Jack, and wondering what would happen if we got married and then he decided he couldn’t handle all the baggage I brought with me. There was fear inside me. I knew Jack was right. But that didn’t make the words hurt any less.

I dug in the drawer for clean underwear and a bra and then found a pair of jeans
folded in a box of my clothes. The weather was still cool in the mornings, so I shoved my head and arms into a white T-shirt and pulled a gray long-sleeved Henley on top of it. I put white athletic socks on my feet and stepped into my worn hiking boots.

I didn’t waste a lot of time looking in the mirror. My black hair was short—chin length—and it would be dry by the time I reached the scene. I hardly ever bothered with makeup, mostly because I didn’t think of it. My face was angular—my cheekbones sharp and my chin slightly poin
ted. My eyes were big and gray and long lashed—a feature I now knew came from someone other than the people I’d called my parents—and the emotions swirling in them couldn’t be hidden. I was scared. And it showed.

I grabbed a windbreaker from the closet just in case
I got cold and jogged down the stairs. The smell of coffee hit me full force and Jack had a to-go cup ready to put in my hand. His weapon and badge weren’t attached to his belt like normal, and the sight of him without them confused me for a moment before I remembered he was on vacation. But it was obvious he still planned to go with me to the crime scene.

My Suburban was parked in Jack’s driveway, just like it had been every night for the last several weeks. Jack and I had been fueling the gossip mill
for a while now, and if we went onto the scene with our current moods, we’d be fueling it even more.

I’d had the Suburban outfitted especially to haul bodies and my equipment. There were no back
seats, just a flat bed and a hidden compartment beneath for my medical bag, camera, extra blankets, and a coverall.

Jack got in the passenger side without saying a word and I took a deep breath before I got in and started the engine. My hands gripped the wheel and I stared straight ahead, trying to get my thoughts in order. I felt Jack’s gaze after a minute or two, but I didn’t look at him.

“You know I love you,” I finally said. “And I want to marry you.”

I felt more than heard his sigh of relief. “Then what’s the problem?”

“I’m afraid you’ll eventually realize you made a mistake. And then I’ll have to kill you for breaking my heart.”

“With a promise like that, you can see why I’m crazy about you.” His hand came up and rested on the back of my neck, squeezing at the tension that was sure to bring me a headache before the end of the day.

“I can see you’re crazy period. I mean it, Jack. This thing with my parents—the mess they’ve left behind. It’s not going to go away easily or quickly. It’s something people are going to talk about until we’re old and gray. It’s something that will follow around our children and grandchildren.”

“I like the idea of having children with you. Especially the part where we make them.”

The temperature was getting very warm in the car and I flicked on the air conditioner to full blast.

“I’m serious. You have to decide if it’s really worth it. It could cost you the election.”

His hand froze on the back of my neck and I winced as his grip got tighter. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You think I give a shit about an election? You think it means more to me than you do?”

“I know you love being a cop. That you live and breathe it. I don’t want to be the reason you can’t be who you were meant to be.”

“That’s just bullshit, Jaye. I can be a cop anywhere. I’ve got enough experience to take any job I want. Believe me, I get offers all the time. And if you’re worried about our children and the whispers that might follow them around then we can say to hell with Bloody Mary and find some place else to live. We’re not tied here unless we want to be. My family will always be here when we need them, but my home will always be wherever you are.”

I felt the tears threaten to fall and blinked rapidly to hold them back. I wanted to tell him about my dad.
Needed
to tell him. But I couldn’t get the words past my frozen vocal cords.

“It’s okay, Jaye. Whenever you’re ready.
Whatever it is we’ll deal with it.”

Jack knew me better than anyone else, and I knew he was referring to the secret I was keeping from him.
I felt my muscles relax under his reassurance, and I promised myself I’d lay it all out for him soon.

I put the Suburban in reverse. “Let’s go look at a body.”

“It’s a hell of a way to start a vacation.”

Caledon State Park was a natural reserve along the uppermost edge of King George County. It backed up to the Potomac River and it
was a good place for camping and fishing, and for boy scouts and school children to spend time learning about nature.

Two police
cars blocked the entrance to the park and I pulled to a stop so whoever had guard duty could check me out. Officer Martinez carried his flashlight in his left hand and had his right resting on his weapon as he walked up to the Suburban. I’d worked with Martinez before and knew he was a solid cop.

“Doc Graves,” Martinez said when I rolled down the window
, and then he turned his gaze to Jack. “Hey, Sheriff. I thought you were on vacation?”

Martinez was only a couple inches taller than me, putting him around 5’10”
. His dark hair was cut stylishly and his face was shaved smooth. He was one of Jack’s recent hires to the department, and it hadn’t taken long for the word to get out that he was single. When he smiled, a dimple peeked out on his cheek and his eyes lit up with good humor.

“I am,” Jack replied. “I’m just here to help move the body.”

“You guys are weird. If it were me on vacation I’d be soaking up the sun on some tropical island, surrounded by smokin’ hot babes in bikinis who would bring me beer and rub my back with suntan lotion.”

“
Given it a lot of thought, have you?” Jack asked dryly.

Martinez
grinned unrepentantly. “It’s been a long winter, Sheriff.”

“What’ve we got?” I asked
before things could go too off course. “Some poor camper keel over from a heart attack?”

“Nope.” Martinez shook his head. “A DB washed up on shore. Colburn is working it as homicide since the vic’s face is missing. I’ll let you see for yourself.”

My eyebrows rose almost to my hairline at the thought of a victim not having a face. “Can’t wait to see this one.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re the only woman I know who would ever say that, Doc Graves.”
Martinez got back in his squad car and backed up so I could get by, and I turned on my high beams as we rumbled over the rutted road that led into the preserve.

“Christ, w
hy can’t people just die in their sleep anymore?”

“Selfish bastards,” Jack said, making me grin.

Tree limbs scraped the top of the Suburban as we jostled past empty campgrounds. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” I said, “but you don’t look right as a civilian. I can’t remember the last time I saw you without a gun at your hip and your badge clipped to your belt.”

“
Honey, I’ll never be a civilian. I always have my badge and at least one gun on me at all times. Three-quarters of the state of Virginia is armed. I’d be crazy to go anywhere without one.” He lifted the pant leg of his jeans so I could see the clutch piece he carried.

“Good point.
” Ever since I’d been attacked last winter I’d started carrying a gun—a black Beretta that fit my hand to perfection. I never left home without it. “When I was at the gun range last week Hilda Martin was in the lane next to me.” The Martins owned the only grocery store in Bloody Mary. “She took out two of the overhead lights and shot the shit out of a concrete post before she emptied her magazine.”

“Christ. Don’t tell me that.”

“Look on the bright side. If anyone robs the grocery store she’ll probably scare them to death instead of leaving us with a body.”

“Or take out six innocent bystanders.”

“I told you to look on the bright side. You’re on vacation. You need to lighten up.”

Even with the high beams on it was hard to see the road in front of us. The park was thick with tall trees and they canopied over the road so there wasn’t even a hint of moonlight. We passed picnic tables and a couple of cabins before the area opened up. Jones Pond sat dead in front of us, and the water was inky black and still. Police cars lined the road, their lights flashing a disorienting blue over the damp grass.

I parked the Suburban as close to the crime scene tape as I could and turned off the motor. Jack and I got out and he took in the area with cop eyes while I went back to get my equipment.

Jack had done his time in the military after he’d graduated from college and then he’d gone on to be a SWAT cop in DC. He’d resigned after taking three bullets on a mission that had killed one of his closest friends, and then he’d come home to Bloody Mary to recover.

The sheriff’s position
had come open when the previous Sheriff had decided to retire abruptly and Jack had stepped into the role. He never talked about what had happened to him in DC, and I never pushed him to talk about it. I knew better than anyone that some personal demons were better left undisturbed.

The air coming in from the water was cold and smelled of brine and other things less pleasant.
Jones Pond sat just on the edge of the shoreline, only a thin strip of land separating it from the Potomac River. Three large spotlights had been set up around the perimeter and lit the area well. The shoreline was muddy, so I pulled on my black coveralls and zipped them up to my chin. I slung my bag over my shoulder and ducked under the crime scene tape, Jack following close behind me.

“Doc Graves,”
Detective Colburn called out. “Thanks for coming. We’re about done here, so he’s all yours. Morning, Sheriff. You want in on this?”

“I’m on vacation.”

“I’d heard a rumor.” Colburn’s lips twitched once and then went back into a thin line.

Colburn was about ten years older than me and Jack
, making him in his early forties, and he had big city homicide experience, which was one of the reasons Jack had hired him. I don’t know why Colburn had left the city for the small town way of life, but I’d noticed Jack had a lot of success recruiting cops that had more experience than a place like this warranted.

Colburn was tall,
broad through the shoulders, and lean through the hips. His brown hair was graying at the temples, and he had cop’s eyes of pale blue steel. A few months ago Colburn had been under investigation for the serial murders that had rocked our small community. He’d been having an affair with Amanda Wallace, the wife of one of the city councilmen, and her body had been discovered after she’d snuck away to meet with Colburn at a hotel.

Aman
da had also been pregnant at the time of her death, so Colburn’s world had been shaken off its axis in one fell swoop. He’d been cleared of murder, but I wasn’t sure he’d ever get over losing the woman he loved and the child he hadn’t known about.

Colburn mostly stayed to himself, and even if he had heard the gossip around town he probably wouldn’t care much about it.
But the people in this area had a long memory, and Colburn was still whispered about as a man who’d stolen another man’s wife, and those same people held him responsible for her death, even though he hadn’t been the one to tighten the noose around her neck. They’d never trust him again, and it had the potential to make things difficult farther down the road.

Colburn fell into step beside me as we made our way down to the body. “The 911 came in abou
t three this morning. A couple of campers decided it would be fun to go skinny dipping in the middle of the night.”

“Idiots
,” I said. “That water can’t be more than forty degrees.”

“Yeah, well, they’re both twenty and had worked up their courage with a few beers. The girl sicked it all up as soon as she saw the body.
They’re sitting in the back of a squad car wrapped up in blankets. We’ll talk to them again before we cut them loose, but I don’t think there’s much more we’ll get from them.”

The first thing I noticed about the body was his size. He was a big guy. Not overweight
, but built more like Jack. A lot of muscles and bulk. He was dressed in a black T-shirt and matching cargo pants and his shoes and socks were missing.

“We found him just like this,” Colburn said. “Face down in the mud. It was a hell of a mess when we turned him to get photos. I wanted you to get a feel for the scene so we put him back once we were th
rough.”

“I appreciate it,” I said, kneeling next to the victim.
I pulled gloves out of my bag and put them on and then handed Jack my recorder so I could keep my hands free. I touched my glove to the victim’s skin and felt the give of the tissue.

“He’s developed skin maceration, which tells me he’s been in the wa
ter close to forty-eight hours. The skin has come loose and is peeling off in places. We’ll have to be careful transporting him so we don’t leave his outsides in the body bag. It’s easier to know how long he’s been in the water instead of time of death. The water messes with the stages of decomp. Lacerations on both arms and bottom of feet congruent with debris he ran into on his trip down the river. Did you find any ID on him?” I asked Colburn.

“No. No
wallet and nothing in his pockets. No money either.”

“Socks and shoes are gone.”

“Yeah. Guy’s settled down for an evening, kicking back and maybe watching some T.V.”

“No rings on his fingers,” I murmured, more to myself than anyone else. “
But anything like that could have come off in the water. We’ll have a hard time getting fingerprints. It’ll be better to remove the skin from the fingers completely and try to get a solid print that way rather than transferring directly. It’ll be too fragile.”

I worked my way over the exposed skin to make sure I hadn’t missed anything, but it was more than obvious what the cause of death was. I reached the back of the skull and was careful as I parted matted hair.

“Two gunshot wounds to the back of the head. Execution style. The holes are nice and neat.” I retrieved a small ruler from the bag and measured the size of the holes and the distance between them.

Jack looked at the hole measurements and grunted. “Could be a couple of different handguns,” he said. “It could be a .357 Magnum or a 9mm, but you’ll have to send it off to ballistics to know for sure.”

“Those were my thoughts as well,” Colburn said. “And then I saw the front of him and now I’m leaning toward the .357 with hollow points. But like you said, ballistics will be able to tell us more.”

“
Let’s turn him over,” I said, more curious than ever about the front of the body.

Colburn
already wore gloves, so he took the head and I took the feet and we carefully turned the victim over so he lay on his back.

“Damn. Martinez was right. He doesn’t have a face,” I said.
I’d seen a lot of interesting things over the course of my tenure as an ER doctor and now as coroner, but I could honestly say the vacant face in front of me was something new.

The face was nothing more than spare bits of flesh and bone. The nose and mouth were empty holes, and the eye sockets were vacant—but I thought that might have more to do with the fish that had been snacking on the body for the last coupl
e of days rather than the bullets themselves. 

“High caliber weapon
through the back of the head isn’t going to leave much of anything when it comes out the other side,” Jack said. “It’s like dropping a pumpkin off the top of a building. I can see why you’re thinking the .357 hollow points. Two shots to the back of the head will make anyone unrecognizable to their own mother.”

Colburn
grunted in agreement. “I’ve got Officer Chen looking for mob related crimes in the tri-state area because of the method of killing. A hit like this seems cold and calculated. No identification and he’s dressed comfortably, so there’s a possibility he was pulled from his house. Maybe something will click in the system.”

“Who’s Officer Chen?” I asked
, not recognizing the name.

“She’s only been on about a week,” Jack said. “Good cop. She’s the one talking to the kids who found the body.”

I followed Jack’s gaze toward the squad car and focused on the petite woman talking to the shaking kids. Her hair was glossy black and pulled back into a ponytail and her profile showed even features. She looked like a teenager instead of a cop.

“Don’t let her fool you,” Jack said, reading my mind. “Chen’s got multiple black belts and put Martinez on his ass the first day on the job.
”

I snorted out a laugh at the mental picture. “I guess she wasn’t impressed by the Martinez charm.”

Jack smiled. “He’s been keeping his distance ever since. Martinez doesn’t meet a lot of women who don’t fall all over themselves to get his attention, but Chen looked at him like he was selling vacuum cleaners door to door and turned her back.”

“It’ll
do him some good,” Colburn said. “A little humility never hurt anyone.”

“Where did Chen come from?” I asked.

“She worked the streets in Atlanta. Mostly inner city. It was her home turf and she was comfortable there.”

“
King George County is a long way from inner city Atlanta. How’s she liking the slow life?”

I felt Jack’s shrug beside me. “She was one of the responding officers on the Greenwood Elementary shooting.”