“I have an appointment.”
“You mean a date?”
“No, an appointment. I’m meeting David Campbell.” He extended his hand and helped her stand. “Saturday may be warm. I can offer our apologies.”
A sparkle lit up her eyes. “Come down here.”
J.T. bent at the hips and lowered his face to hers. “Ma’am?”
Her eyes narrowed as if she was looking for clues or an untruth. Nobody on the planet made him squirm, except her. She had this uncanny ability to see right through him. Nana was the reason he’d understood Ethan’s story about his mother having a third eye. Ethan crossing J.T.’s mind made him squirm.
“Why don’t you want me to meet your new girl?” She cupped his cheek to ensure he didn’t look away or pull up where she’d have to crane her neck.
“She’s not my girl. You’re my one and only.” He told the truth as he saw it. He wanted Leigh in the worst way. The urge was physical. Sexual. Nothing long term. And nothing to be thinking about while he was with his grandmother.
“But she could be.” Nana nodded her head, passing judgment before she met Leigh. “I feel it. She may be the one.”
“Don’t start matchmaking, or I’ll cancel for sure.” Damn, he wished Nana would give up on him ever walking down the aisle. “You know how I feel about marriage, passing on bad genes, and parenting. We Nobles are a bunch of drunks who never cared about anybody but ourselves. How long do you think I’d last before I ruined her life? A year? Five? Besides, she’s got a kid to raise.”
The instant hurt in Nana’s eyes ripped a chunk out of his heart, and a shot of remorse burned through him. He covered her small hand on his face with his. “You’re the exception. You got all the good stuff. All the virtue and decency are in you.”
“Why do you talk such nonsense? You’re a good man.” She patted his cheek firmly. “God and I made sure of that.”
“If you say so.” He straightened his spine and led her to the backdoor. “I’ll call you with a time for Saturday.”
“Teddy?” she called from the porch.
“Ma’am?” A sharp pain stabbed the base of his skull. If she called him Teddy on Saturday—
“You’re still looking for your mother, aren’t you?”
“Tonight, Nana. I promise. I’ll look tonight.”
****
Thursday, May 6, 9:30 p.m.
“Do you think J.T. plays football?”
Leigh worried about Ethan getting attached, because he’d talked about J.T. all through supper. Tucked in bed, Ethan’s mind had drifted to the upcoming picnic.
“He’s not coming to entertain you. His grandmother will be with him, and he’ll want to spend time with adults.” Leigh stood and pulled the sheet up to Ethan’s chin.
“Read me one more story.”
“Not tonight. It’s bedtime for both of us.” She smoothed Ethan’s curly hair off his forehead, clearing a spot for one more kiss. “I love you. You know that, right?”
He snuggled down under the sheet. “Right.”
Leigh backed to the door, taking one last look at her son before flipping the light switch.
“I love you more,” Ethan called out.
Leigh heaved a sigh. She wished J.T. hadn’t come up. He was already on her mind too much. Wednesday night he’d left no doubt he wanted her, and she’d almost gone to his bed instead of the guestroom. Would the world come to an end if she spent the night in his arms? She wanted him to satisfy the pulsing sexual need he generated way down deep inside her. Could she have sex with him without emotional ties or expectations?
She tested the locks on the doors and windows. Double checked the alarm before she headed to bed. She’d scrimped and saved to buy this house. She’d researched and selected this neighborhood especially for her son. Tonight, she slid between the sheets and listened to the sounds of the night. Every rustle of the bushes made her jump. She snapped off the bedside lamp and willed herself to relax. Leigh rolled to her side, slipped her hand under her pillow, and found comfort in the cool handle of her pistol.
Damn Jason. Damn him for threatening Ethan’s security. Damn her for not killing him the night of the rape.
Chapter Fifteen
Thursday, May 6, 10:00 p.m.
J.T. scanned the nightclub to get his bearings. His stomach lurched at the smell of cigarettes and stale beer. Famous for hundreds of different brands of beer, the Kegger had been a favorite hangout of law enforcement for years. Knowing his mother wouldn’t be caught dead in a place full of cops didn’t keep him from looking. A young couple and two men sat at the mahogany bar, which ran the length of one wall. The small bandstand was dark and empty as were many of the tables.
A loud crowd had bunched up around the pool tables. Tournament night.
“Over here.”
David Campbell met J.T. halfway, grabbed his hand, and pulled him close for the mandatory shoulder bump. J.T. snagged a waitress and ordered a rum and coke without the rum. She frowned, taking a second to get his meaning. She laughed with a slight nod of her head. Even in the darkened bar, J.T. noticed the bags under David’s eyes. Tired? Alcohol?
None of your business.
“Thanks for meeting me.”
“Anytime, man. Looks like the sniper is leading you Feds around by the dick. Any way I can help?”
“I wish.” David wasn’t necessarily wrong, J.T. just didn’t want to hear it. He choked back a harsh comment. His inability to figure out who the sniper was had soured his stomach. “I gotta be honest with you, I do need your help with something personal.”
“What the hell? Since the wife left, I’m at loose ends.”
The waitress delivered J.T.’s coke and turned to David. “How about you?”
“Not yet.” He held up a half-f bottle of beer. “She’s been trying to get me drunk for months. Wants to ravish my body.”
She rolled her eyes at David as she walked away.
“That’s obvious,” J.T. agreed with a chuckle. David’s old familiar way-down-deep-inside laugh was contagious.
“I started you a tab,” she said to J.T. over her shoulder. “I’ll be back to check on you two later.”
“Sorry to hear about you and Patty. I figured if any marriage lasted, yours was the one.”
“My own damn fault.” He wrapped his big paw around his beer. “She felt like the family wasn’t my priority.” David took one long swallow. “And she was probably right. What about you? You’re not sporting a gold band.”
“No wedding ring for me.”
“What? Hell, you’re my age. At thirty-three, you should’ve already found the right woman.”
“There’s no right woman for me.”
David finished his beer and rubbed his hand across his mouth. “Old buddy, you’ve spent too many years screwing around. When you fall, she’s gonna lead you around by the dick.”
“Can we talk about something other than my love life?”
“Sure. What’s going on in the land of black and white?”
“What?” J.T. connected the statement to the color of police cars.
David leaned across the table and tugged at J.T.’s shirt.
“The FBI. Black and white. Get it?”
“What’s wrong with the way we dress?”
“Nothing, man. I’m just giving you a ration of shit.” David waved his hand through the air.
“Sorry. The entire office is as jumpy as I am. We know the sniper’s going to keep killing until we stop him, but he leaves us nothing to work with.”
“So what is this personal thing I can do for you?”
“I need information.”
“Let’s hear it.”
J.T. gave David a brief overview of Leigh’s break-in, attack, telephone hang-ups, and wreck. Hell, after he’d told the story out loud, the conspiracy theory didn’t sound farfetched at all. “I can’t prove Carrington’s harassing her. However, this shit didn’t start until after he got out of prison.”
“He’ll be easy to check out. You look into your girl’s background?”
“Been tempted. Knowing this woman, I guarantee she’d be pissed if she found out.” He hadn’t mention Leigh was a cop. Probably should because it would come out with Carrington’s information.
“I hear ya. Feels kinda like you’d be violating her privacy.”
“She’s a CID detective.”
“Oh shit. She’d probably be more than pissed if we started digging around in her file.”
“She and Carrington have history. That’s why this has to be done quietly.”
David drained his beer and waved at the waitress. “Let’s get out of here and walk down to Harriman’s.”
J.T. had a number of places to hit before he looked Nana in the eye and honestly said he’d hunted for his mother. None of them as nice as where he and David were headed.
They walked a few blocks and stopped on a corner. While they waited for the light to change, J.T. checked out every female coming or going. This part of town had always been too upscale for his mother.
“Still looking for your mom?”
“Off and on.” The question caught J.T. of guard. Either he was too obvious or David was a better cop than most. “My grandmother keeps the pressure on. I have no idea why.”
“The hell you don’t. You know exactly why.” David chuckled. “You don’t turn your back on family.”
“When did you get promoted to shrink?”
David’s laugh lines disappeared. “Your momma’s sick, man. And you know it.”
“I won’t find her in this neighborhood.” J.T. stayed on the sidewalk when the light changed. “I’m going to pass on Harriman’s. There’s a few hundred places left for me to check out.”
“Next time you go barhopping, change out of your funeral director’s clothes. The natives will be more cooperative.”
****
Friday, May 7, 8:30 a.m.
Leigh made a point to sit on the opposite side of the conference table from J.T. for the morning update. He surprised her by walking around and plopping down next to her. Until last night, he’d treated her like a member of the group. His calling Olivia to the crime scene had been a harsh reminder to Leigh. She was the outsider and would be leaving soon. The Feds were a tight-knit group. Famous for loyalty to their own.
She sat quietly while he and Olivia gave their report on Dr. Holibeck’s murder. J.T. surprised her when he turned the interview with the doctor’s wife, Carla, over to Leigh. Without looking at him, she flipped open her notes and brought everyone up to speed.
“What we have is one more dead man and no clues.” The muscles in Casey’s jaw twitched. “The press is eating us alive. Somebody saw something.”
“Every crackpot in Atlanta’s called us or the TV station.” Romeo patted his own stack of notes. “We need help if we plan on interviewing all these people.”
“Then we’ll add somebody to do the leg work.” Casey took Romeo’s papers and thumbed through. He shifted in his chair and spoke to J.T.
“You divide up the work.”
J.T. leaned forward and rested his arms on the table. “Romeo, run the names against the system and identify the people who sound legit. Send the rookies to Olivia. She can assign them to interview the kooks. Leigh and I are still working the boxes from New York, but we’ll talk to the rest.”
Casey passed the callback logs to Romeo. “Sounds like a plan.”
J.T. held a hand up to stop anyone from leaving after she pushed back from the table. He turned and looked at her for a long minute.
“You wanted to tell the team about the accident.”
Leigh blew out a breath. She wasn’t sure she’d made the right decision to share the details of the wreck. Everyone in the room leaned forward, so she described everything, except the fact she’d spent the night in J.T.’s apartment. Their faces tightened with concern, and they seemed to listen to each word and detail. “The odds must be astronomical against him being our sniper, but the guy who helped out was named Doyle,” she said, wrapping up her comments. “And he looked like Preston.”
“Stranger things have happened,” Casey said. “Don’t blame yourself for not stopping him. Sounds like you’re lucky to be alive.”
Leigh left the meeting wondering if she’d overreacted to Olivia being at the crime scene. What was with her paranoia? Lack of sleep? Worry? Fear for Ethan?
J.T. bypassed his desk and headed for the conference room. “Leigh, let’s keep digging.”
“Right behind you.”
Romeo caught up with her. “Don’t forget this.”
Leigh recognized the folder containing the phone contacts she’d found in the boxes from New York. “Thanks, Romeo. Did you locate anyone?”
“But of course.” Romeo handed her the list. “You doubted me, too?”
“If she didn’t, she should’ve.” J.T. sat and scooted an unopened box in front of him.
“You’ll appreciate me someday,” Romeo said, wiping fake tears from his eyes, he left the room.
J.T. dragged a chair over next to his, patting the seat for Leigh to join him. She breathed in the air around him. Images of the great outdoors and clean mountain mornings played with her senses. She had to speak. “I’d like to ask you something.”
“Shoot.” He faced her, his green eyes looking into hers.
“Why’d you call Olivia to the crime scene?”
“I called her first so you could get Ethan squared away. Why?”
J.T. being thoughtful wasn’t one of the possibilities she’d considered. Her pride couldn’t allow it, even though she appreciated his intention.