Fatal Intimacies (Romantic Suspense) (5 page)

11

Jessica stayed in a hotel that looked like an office skyscraper. No parking was available anywhere
and she had to use valet.

She slept uncomfortably, waking up several times, and by the mo
rning she felt exhausted. At seven in the morning she finally gave up on sleep and rose. She showered and dressed and went downstairs to the restaurant the hotel had serving breakfast. Sitting in a booth, looking out onto the rain-drenched streets of Seattle, she ordered a coffee and croissant.

The rain was coming down lightly, creating snowflake-like patterns on the glass.
It spattered against cars and bounced into puddles. The entire city seemed gray. As if everything was in black and white.

She finished her coffee and called home. The family that had taken in Jacob and Ruth were a nice couple that babysat when Jessica had late nights. They let her speak to the children and the only thing Ruth kept asking was when Jessica was going to come home.

“Soon, baby.”

Though she wasn’t sure how soon. She wasn’t even sure what the hell she was doing out here. Something brought her here, but she wasn’t
certain what. Maybe Sarah was right. Maybe emotion controlled us in a way we didn’t even understand yet.

Nine o’clock rolled around and Jessica got into her car and drove
to the Seattle PD headquarters. She walked in and told the front desk she was here to see Thomas Garcia. A part of her was excited, and a part of her disgusted. She blamed him for not being able to give her answers. She knew it was petty and unfair, but she couldn’t help it. She needed someone to blame right now and he was the closest person to this whole thing.

Garcia walked out in a gray suit with a white shirt, no tie. His shoes were two-tone and shined even though the lighting was dimmer than it was last time Jessica was in here.
He looked devastatingly gorgeous. So much so that she felt her heart beating faster.

“Looks like you’re experiencing our normal weather,” he said. “The sunlight from yesterday isn’t exactly the norm. Even though the tourist board claims we sell the mos
t sunglasses per capita in the States.”

“What do you have for me?”

He cleared his throat and glanced to the front desk receptionist, who shrugged. “I’ve got the file. There’s a coffee shop next door. You’ll be more comfortable talking there. Let me grab the file and I’ll meet you.”

The coffee shop was busy, at least busier than Jessica had seen a coffee shop in the middle of th
e day, and she took a table near a stage with a microphone. It didn’t appear set up for bands, but probably poetry slams or stand up comedy. The coffee shop seemed more like a club than anything.

Garcia walked in and came straight to her table. He sat across from her and placed the file down.

“What?” she said. “You’re grinning.”

“You look uncomfortable.”

“When I was in college I thought I was so experienced. So old. Now I look at these guys and they’re just kids.”

“Funny how that works.”

Her eyes went to the engagement ring on his finger. He seemed to notice and looked down at it as well. Neither of them said anything for a moment and then he flipped open the file. He pushed a drawing near her.

“This is a composite sketch of the last person your sister was seen alive with.”

Jessica picked up the drawing. The man was slender with a light beard. Stubble really. And his eyes were narrow. Placed just a little too close together.

“You think he’s…”

“No. I know this man. It’s a detective by the name of Mark Curtis. He’s in the missing persons unit. Apparently there was an attempted kidnapping of your sister the day she was killed.”

“Kidnapping?” she said, her eyes rising to his.

“Yes. I missed it because the paperwork wasn’t even filed yet. I haven’t spoke to Mark yet about it.”

“Do you know who tried to kidnap her?”

He shook his head. “No clue. But Mark might.”

She placed the drawing down. “You have no reason to help me. But I’d like to come with you. I’m a lawyer and I can… well, I don’t know what I can do. But the thought of going home and doing nothing would kill me.”

He nodded, glancing over to a table filled with students studying something having to do with environmental science. They were arguing about the impact of fracking.

“I understand,” he said. “You can come with me to talk to Mark. I guess it’s only fair you hear it from the horse’s mouth.”

She exhaled, relieved that he had agreed. She thought she would have to be out here by herself, digging up ghosts. It felt comforting to have someone there that she could turn to.

“I’m sorry if I seem curt,” she said.

“It’s understandable. I don’t blame you.”

She leaned back in the seat, scanning the space. “This
crowd doesn’t seem like your pace either.”

“It is
n’t. But I like the energy. When I need to think I come over here. I just order a coffee and sip it until I’ve solved whatever it was I had a problem with.”

“Did you study here in college, too?”

“No. I went to the University of Miami. I didn’t move out here until I was twenty-five.”

“You seem young to be a detective.”

“One of the youngest in the city’s history,” he said. “Sorry, that seemed like I was bragging.”

“No, that’s interesting. How did it happen?”

He ran his fingers over some nicks and scrapes on the tabletop. “I solved some cases as a uniform that caught the right people’s attention. I had thought, when I first left the academy, that you were promoted based on how good you were. But that’s not what it is at all. I just happened to make a couple people with power happy.”

“You couldn’t have made them happy if you weren’t good.”

“Maybe.” They exchanged glances and both of them smiled. “So, should we go see Mark?”

Jessica followed
Garcia back into the precinct. They went to some chrome elevators down a long hallway. Next to the elevators were a set of gleaming steel stairs that people seemed to be sprinting up and down.

“You guys seem busy,” she said.

“Bureaucrats mostly. I’m sure they’ve got some deadlines they’re trying to meet.”

“You’re not interested in rising up the ladder?”

“The ladder’s rigged. I’ve made a few calls that might prevent me from getting to the top.”

The elevator dinged and opened. They stepped on and Garcia swiped an ID badge on a reader
next to the buttons. Then he pressed the button for the fourth floor.

“Missing Persons and Robbery-Homicide are the only two
divisions here,” he said. “I know Mark pretty well. If he has anything, he’ll share.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Sometimes detectives compete with each other. Not all the time. Some of us are happy to give one of our cases over to another division. But sometimes they like to be the ones to make the collar or follow through to the end. They don’t always share information. Mark’s one of the good ones though.”

They stepped off the elevator into a sea of cubicles. Jessica could see a few offices lining the floor, but the great mass of space was taken up by cubicles smack in the center. Detectives and staff were running around, barking into phones, bullshitting with sodas in their hands, or watching clips on
Youtube. It was exactly what she had imagined when she thought of a police precinct in a large city.

Rounding a corner, the man from the composite drawing was sitting at a desk, typing on a desktop computer. Garcia came and sat on his desk next to him while Jessica stood a few paces back and folded her arms.

“What’s up Tommy?” Mark said.

“Caught one in common,” he said. “Michelle Barlow.”

“You’re shitting me?”

He shook his head. “Mark, this is Jessica Barlow. Her sister.”

Mark looked to her. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t heard.”

Garcia looked from Jessica to Mark before speaking. “I missed the kidnapping ’cause it wasn’t inputted in
Spillman yet.”

“Yeah, I’m getting to that today actually. Sorry, man. I had no idea.”

“Well we’re all up to speed now. I was hoping we could share.”

“Nothing to share. Someone tried to grab her on the street. She got away and snuck into her friend’s apartment building. One of the tenants found her and called us. How was she killed?”

He glanced to Jessica, as though he were getting her permission to speak freely. “She was killed in her apartment… the same night.”

Mark was quiet. “Wow. He went back.”

“That’s the guess. So it’s really important if you got anything.”

He shook his head. “Nothing. She didn’t see anything. He wore some kind of mask. Damn it.”
He pushed the keyboard away. “I can’t believe that. I was right there. She said she didn’t have anybody she could stay with so I didn’t think it’d be a big deal if she went home.”

Jessica’s guts tightened again and the anxiety and nausea from the previous few days was back in full force. Her sister didn’t have anyone out here to turn to. Ev
en for a night. The guilt weighed her down so heavily she thought she could fall to the floor right now and not be able to get back up.

“She didn’t have anybody?” Jessica asked. “No friends or a boyfriend?”

“Nope. I mean, nobody that she told me about.”

Garcia said, “It’s not your fault, Mark. All the evidence said this was a random attack. No one could’ve guessed he’d come back. But if you got anything else that can help us…”

“I’ll email you my reports, man, but there’s nothing there. I was just gonna file the case away. Perp wore a mask, no DNA, no witnesses, no enemies she could think of that would do something like this. We were up shit creek without a paddle.”

Garcia rose. “Can I get the name of the guy in the apartment that called it in?”

“Sure thing. I’ll look it up and text it to you.”

“Thanks.”

As they walked away, Mark said, “I’m sorry again about your sister.”

“Thanks,” Jessica said.

When they were back waiting for the elevators, Garcia said, “I’ll go talk to this guy. See what he has to say.”

“I’d like to come, too. I mean, if that’s okay.”

He hesitated. “I really shouldn’t. If anything happens, it means you’re a witness. I don’t want you involved in this anymore than you already are.”

“I can make up my own mind, Detective. And I’d like to help if I can.”

He shrugged. “Fine. You drive.”

12

The streets this high over the city were like coiled snakes. Several times, Jessica had to slam on the brakes to not go skidding off the side of the road. And the people coming down were even worse. They would sp
eed around the corners, hugging them like they were racecar drivers, and wouldn’t slow down for a second. Even to an oncoming car.

“Not too much farther,” Garcia said from the passenger seat.

She glanced to him and then back to the road. “So when’s the big day?” He regarded her with a look that said he had no idea what she was talking about. “The wedding?”

“Oh,” he said, glaring at the ring on his finger as though noticing it for the first time. “No date yet.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know. Just haven’t decided on it yet
, I guess. Turn right up here.”

The car took the turn with the tires squealing. Jessica slowed to a crawl as they rounded it before speeding up again on the straight road.

“What about you?” Garcia said. “Husband? Kids?”

“No, no husband. Two foster kids that I’m hoping to adopt one day.”

“Really? I didn’t picture you as a foster mom.”

“W
hy not?”

“That purse is Gucci.
At least a thousand bucks. Your shoes are Valentino Rose. At least twelve hundred. People that wear twelve hundred dollar shoes don’t typically take in foster children.”

“You don’t miss much, do you?”

“I just have an eye toward making sure I know where people are coming from. Keeps me protected.”

“And how, out of curiosity, do you know what Valentino Rose pumps look like?”

“My fiancée is a connoisseur.”

“Really?”

“You sound surprised. Turn left up here.”

The car came to a stop at a
red light and Jessica had to wait for a truck to pass before taking the turn. “Well,” she said, “let’s just say that people that marry people that wear twelve hundred dollar pumps aren’t usually cops.”

He grinned. “It’s an… odd pairing. I’ll give you that. Her father told me he wants me to go to law school or business school so he can hire me in the family business. He doesn’t want a cop as part of the inheritance line.”

“Ouch.”

“What can you do?”

“So are you going to do it? Law or business?”

“It’s not me. I belong here.
On the street. It’s where I grew up. Where I feel the most comfortable. It’s that building right there.”

Jessica parked out front and stared up at the
structure. “This is where my sister ran in?”

“No, this is where the man lives. Mark said he was visiting his sister, who we’ll need to speak with too. You should wait here.”

“I’d prefer to come.”

He looked out to the road, trying to suppress a grin. “Okay. But try not to say anything.”

They got out and walked into the apartment building. It was situated on top of a hill overlooking Seattle below and the Pacific beyond. They had to be buzzed in by the manager and went up to the second floor to find the apartment for a man named Randall Fullmer.

Garcia knocked on the door and no one answered. Then he rang the doorbell. A few seconds went by and he put his ear to the door.

“What is it?” Jessica asked.

“I hear… damn it.”

Garcia dashed for the stairs leading down. Jessica stood motionless a moment, unsure exactly what to do, and then followed him as best she could without sprinting. As she came outside, she saw a man racing down the street. Right behind him, Garcia was shouting for him to stop.

Jessica jumped into her car. She turned it on and pulled out, following behind the two men. The man Garcia was chasing,
who she guessed was Randall Fullmer, turned on a dime like some NFL wide receiver and ran into an alleyway between two buildings. Garcia sprinted after him.

Jessica spun the car around and zipped down a side street. She came out on the other side of the buildings and pressed down the gas, the car jolting forward. Passing through a red light, her heart pounding like
a drum, she saw Randall dash out of the alley. Garcia was nearly to him. Jessica sped in front and slammed on her brakes.

Randall flipped over the hood of the car and
crashed onto the pavement. He tried to get up but Garcia tackled him. They rolled over on the pavement several times before Garcia got on top of him. He had him in an arm lock and pulled out cuffs, slapped them on, and stood up. Randall was on the ground, his hands cuffed behind his back, spitting out a slew of obscenities.

Garcia looked to her, huffing breath like a track athlete, and smiled.