Final Words (24 page)

And yet they had a murderer to catch.

Jason rubbed his chin over her hair. “Did you know that Paul
Sanders’ parents were murdered?”

Emma looked up at him. “No.”

“The killer was apprehended but his lawyers pleaded him not
guilty by reason of insanity. A psychiatric evaluation supported their claim
and he was found unfit to stand trial.”

Emma pushed further upright, breaking the contact of their
bodies. Jason felt the night air sweep between them but he refused to allow it
to chill their closeness. He refused to let go of that no matter what came
between them. Instead, he relaxed and let her take the lead again, knowing that
was what was important to her.

“That means Paul has a possible motive for killing others
who’ve been found unfit to stand trial,” Emma said. “Maybe he kills them as a
way of gaining justice for his parents.” Her eyes grew large as she looked back
at Jason. “What happened to his parents’ killer?”

“The man was sent to a mental institution but he escaped and
killed another couple. The second time he was locked up, another inmate killed
him.”

“Divine justice,” she whispered.

Jason decided that, even though they were partners now—in
every conceivable way as far as he was concerned—boundaries remained that they
both should respect. “We wouldn’t be on to him if it wasn’t for you, Emma but
it would be a good idea if you let the professional detectives check him out
from now on.”

“Okay.”

Jason lifted one eyebrow. “Convince me.”

She looked down at his chest. Reaching out, she pressed her
palm against his flesh, pushed her fingers through the hair just over his
heart. “Since the night of my accident…” She nibbled at her lower lip and then
went on. “Jason, I don’t want to die. But I know what’s waiting on the other
side. I’m not afraid to risk my life to stop Paul from killing others.”

“You don’t need to risk your life. That’s my job. Promise me
you won’t ask around about Sanders on your own anymore.”

She nodded. “I promise.”

“You’ll end your sessions with him?”

Her brow furrowed. “That might look suspicious.”

“You’re right. But I’m going to those sessions with you from
now on.”

The lines in her forehead disappeared. Her eyes sparkled. “My
hero.”

“You bet!”

Tossing the towel aside, Emma draped her arms around him and
snuggled close again. Her breath warmed the flesh that covered the base of his
throat even as her naked body scorched his.

“You know, my hero, we might be more comfortable on the bed,”
she murmured.

Feeling the tip of her tongue against his skin, he closed
his eyes. “The rug suits me fine,” he answered, burying his face in her hair
once more.

* * * * *

Emma felt no trace of guilt as she parked outside Paul
Sanders’ office building the next morning. She hadn’t really lied to Jason when
she’d said she’d stay away from Paul because Paul was in Dallas. His secretary
was just leaving for her regular noon aerobic workout and the office would be
empty for an hour. In less time than that, Emma hoped to find enough evidence
for Jason to arrest Paul and for Marta to put him away.

She waited until Pamela Ives drove away and then got out of
her car. Hurrying across the parking lot and into the building, she thought
back to her late-night phone call with Marta. Her friend had called to make
sure Emma was all right. To Emma’s surprise, Marta had actually seemed pleased
to learn that Jason was still there. So pleased, in fact, that she hadn’t even
questioned Emma regarding her earlier statement about Paul. Emma was glad
because she didn’t want to involve Marta too soon. First, she wanted to gather
some evidence of her own.

Rounding the corner leading to Paul’s office suite, Emma
found the elevator lobby deserted. Quickly, she shoved her credit card into the
space above the latch of the outer office door. After the two of them had
imbibed too much wine one night shortly after Emma had left Alan, Marta had
taught her the skill. She’d picked it up during her early years of associating
with criminals.

Criminals like Alan, Emma thought, shaking her head. After
his arrest, he’d confessed to everything. He’d been determined to get Emma back
because he had lost all his money in a bad real estate venture. With him, their
relationship hadn’t meant more than money for a long time.

Putting aside painful thoughts, Emma focused on the task at
hand. She heard the latch click. The door fell open. Heart pounding, she
slipped inside and looked around. Bookcases, sofa, desk and plants. No file
cabinets in the outer office.

Clutching her credit card so hard that it dug into her palm,
she walked into Paul’s office. Windows behind his desk let plenty of sunlight
into the room so she didn’t need to turn on a light. She walked to the
two-drawer lateral file behind his desk, grabbed the handle of the top drawer
and tugged. Locked. Frowning, she faced Paul’s desk. It too, was locked.

Time ticked by. Returning to the reception area, she looked
around until she spied a small crystal jar peeking from under the leaves of an
ivy that perched on one corner of Pamela’s desk. Inside the jar lay a ring
holding two silver keys. Grabbing it, she ran back into Paul’s office and
quickly opened the top file drawer. Reaching inside her pocket, she pulled out
the list of autopsies that she and Jason had matched with police files and she
went to work.

“William Barcus,” she murmured, locating the man’s file.
Inside it lay appointment and payment records along with neatly typed
transcripts of sessions Barcus had spent with Paul. At the front of the folder
was a letter to Marta Zamora explaining Paul’s professional opinion of Barcus’
unfitness to stand trial. “Cannot clearly differentiate wrong from right,” it
read.

Closing the file, Emma began looking for other names on her
list. After finding two more, she was struck by something odd. A small blue
cross had been stamped on the inner cover of each file. Puzzled, she chose a
file with a name that wasn’t on her list. The inside cover was blank.

Emma opened a second and third folder from patients that
weren’t on her list. Neither bore a blue cross. On the fourth file, labeled Kay
Ashton, Emma found the emblem again.

She scanned her list but found no such person. Grabbing a
pen off Paul’s desk, she made note of the name and then began to check every
folder in the drawer. She found three more that contained blue crosses. Two of
the names matched her list and one did not. Returning the last file to the
drawer, she reached for the next one but stopped when she heard the distant rattle
of a doorknob.

Emma froze. The sound had come from the reception area.
Holding her breath, she eased the file drawer closed, locked it and grabbed the
keys and her list. Just as the outer office door opened, she slipped behind the
heavy drapes near the seating area where she and Paul usually met. Footsteps
crossed the oak floor of the reception area and then became muffled on the
thick carpet inside Paul’s office.

Adrenaline pumped through her veins. The sun at her back
pulled sweat from her body, sending it trickling down her spine. She could
smell the bitterness rising from under her arms.

Spying movement out of the corner of one eye, she shifted
her gaze. She could just see a faint reflection in the window behind the file
cabinet and her heart nearly stopped.
Paul.
But he was supposed to be in
Dallas until that evening.

Unlocking the file cabinet, he opened the bottom drawer.
Selecting a file, he pulled it out and opened it. Keys jingled as he pressed an
object hanging from his key ring against the inner cover of the folder. Then,
tucking his keys back into his pocket, he lifted his gaze to the window.

Emma just stopped herself from jerking back. Although the
drapes hid her, her reflection was caught in the window too. The slightest
movement would draw his attention.

The sweat she’d excreted before was nothing compared to what
flowed out of her now. Even considering her recent ghostly experiences, she’d
never been so frightened in her life. She could just make out the glimmer of
his teeth as he studied his reflection. Lifting one hand, he straightened his
tie and then pushed his fingers through his thinning hair, smoothing down the
gray strands. He angled his head as if studying his face for a moment. Finally,
he put the folder back into the drawer. He closed the drawer, locked the
cabinet and turned away. Seconds later, Emma heard footsteps retreat across the
carpet. They tapped against the oak floor of the reception area and then the
outer office door clicked closed.

Easing the drapes aside, Emma walked out on trembling legs.
Instinct screamed for her to run away in case he returned but she needed to
know why he’d crept into his own office when he was supposed to be out of town.

The keys jingled in her shaking hand as she unlocked the
cabinet again and opened the bottom drawer. She scanned the files but couldn’t
tell which one he’d taken out. Then she spotted a familiar name on a file that
seemed just a little crooked. Emma pulled out the file and the sweat on her
body ran cold. Layne Simmons.

She opened the folder. A bright blue cross shimmered inside
the front cover, the ink still damp enough to have cast its image on a letter
inside. Emma knew then that the object Paul kept on his key ring had been a
stamp. Looking at the letter, she saw that it was dated recently and addressed
to a captain at the Houston Police Department.

“I consider Detective Simmons not only unfit for duty,” it
read. “But a danger to the community she has pledged to serve. She is inclined
to put herself in deadly situations with little regard for her own safety or
for the safety of others and should be handled with care.”

Handled to death, is what you really mean.

She fingered through the file tabs, looking for her own
patient file. It wasn’t there.

Emma glanced at her watch. Twelve-twenty. To be safe, she
had about thirty minutes to finish before Pamela Ives returned. Replacing Layne’s
file in the drawer, she picked up where she’d left off.

* * * * *

Jason frowned as he stood in the doorway of Emma’s empty
office. Looking up, he saw her assistant striding up the corridor, a
plastic-wrapped sandwich in one hand and a soda can in the other.

“Hey, Detective MacKenzie,” Skitch said. “Dr. St. Clair ran
out to grab some lunch but she should be back soon.”

Jason tucked his fingers into the front pockets of his
jeans. “I was hoping to take her to lunch, myself.”

Skitch grinned and popped the top on his soda can. “You two
are becoming quite a thing, huh?”

Warmth coiled in the pit of his stomach. “Is that the story
going around?”

“It can be. You want a rumor started, I’m your— Oh, hey,
there she is.”

Jason looked up to see Emma step off the distant elevator.
His heartbeat immediately quickened at the sight of her.

“Don’t trust Skitch to get the details right,” she warned as
she approached the two men, her gaze locked with Jason’s. “He likes to
embellish a bit.”

Skitch held his sandwich against his chest, just above his
heart. “I confess. Making up tales is one of my great joys.”

“That and stuffing your face.” Catching Jason’s arm, Emma
tugged him into her office. “See you later, Skitch.”

She closed the door and Jason didn’t wait another second. He
pulled Emma into his arms and gave her the kiss he’d been thinking about all
morning.

“Well,” she said when he finally released her. “Hello.”

“I missed you.” He kept his arms around her, pleased by the
slightly dazzled look in her eyes. “I came by to take you to lunch but Skitch
told me you’d already gone. Did you meet Marta again? I know she planned to
call you once she knew anything more about your ex-husband’s case.”

“No, I haven’t talked to Marta.” Her gaze dropped to the top
button on his shirt and her face grew pink. “I went alone.”

Her blush roused his suspicions. “You had lunch alone?”

“Yes. Well. I…didn’t really have lunch.”

He knew suddenly what she’d done and felt as if he’d been
gut-punched. “Emma, you promised you wouldn’t see Sanders without me.”

“I didn’t see him. Not exactly.” Lifting her hands, she
began to toy with one of his shirt buttons. “I thought he was out of town, so I
waited for his secretary to go to her aerobics class and then I sort of…broke
into his office.”

Catching her chin in one hand, Jason tilted her head back.
Moist and dark, her eyes revealed her guilt. “You little fool.”

She stiffened in his embrace. “Maybe I am but I learned the
names of other possible victims. And, Jason—”

“Whatever you found was illegally obtained.” Releasing her
abruptly, he retreated a step, not wanting her to feel how badly he was
shaking. Didn’t she realize the man could have killed her? “I can’t use it.”

“You could say you got an anonymous tip. You have to check
out these names. One of them… Jason, it was Layne Simmons.”

A chill swept him. “What?”

“Layne was seeing Paul. As a patient. I think he killed her
today.”

He shook his head. “Layne isn’t dead.”

Emma placed her open palms against his chest. “How long has
it been since you’ve seen her?”

“It’s been a few days but I figured she just went home.”

“Her file was marked with a small blue cross. The other
files I found marked that way matched some of the names on my list. I think he
kept track of his victims that way.”

He stared at her. “I ought to throw you in jail for breaking
and entering. Then at least I’d know you were safe.”

“No one knows I was there. I thought Paul might have seen me
when he—”

Pure alarm skittered through him now. “You said he was out
of town.”

Guilt flushed her cheeks. “He was supposed to be. But he
showed up while I was in his office. I hid behind the drapes.”